The Hollywood Producer / Superhero

Yesterday I shot the Drew show on Hollywood Boulevard. I got to recruit folks.

A woman. A Navajo, she told me, didn't have a home.

I am waiting to go home too, I told her.

Then I walked into Banana Republic and bought a three hundred dollar outfit.

You're so crazy, the girls on the shoot laughed.

No, I said. Just wanted to buy something.

A boy comes up to me. He wants to pitch a TV show. I put up my hand. I give him options. Pointer finger. Ring finger. Pointer to ring to middle. I tell him about the internet, where to pitch, how the networks work.

Can you read the script? he asks. Can I give it to you?

I put up my hand. I can't. I am not interested. I know. It's not my area. I have nothing to do with submissions. I am an Associate. I am not a network executive.

He hears one word. Internet. He says it over to himself. Internet.

Can you deal with him? another Producer points.

My hand is in my pocket. I dealt with him last week. I know how to get junkies off a shoot. My hand in my pocket. I've got a dollar there.

He looks at me. He knows.

I just wanted to say hi to her, he says.

I put my arm around him. I walk him away from the woman. I put the dollar in his hand. His eyes are on the dollar. My eyes are on the dollar. My eyes are on his eyes.

Take it.

I don't have to say go. He is already halfway to a score of something. Battery acid or a croissant or a day old bagel. I don't know. He is gone. The shoot continues. There are no interruptions.

I walk into the Banana Republic. I buy a 60 dollar belt. I walk out. I look down at my bag of old clothes. Bleach-stained-pants. Torn belt. Borrowed shirt.

New clothes this morning. Pinstripe pants. White-starched shirt. The beard is still there. The belt is on my waist. It is Friday. It is time to go. 6 pm.

I look over at my astrological chart. T made it for me.

You will be a good person to know, she says. You won't ever have to worry about money.

I laugh. I am putting away my Clark Kent. I am standing. I am in the elevator. The cape comes on. I exit the building. I soar over Hollywood. 101 North. Between the NBC Universal Building. Over Studio City. To Taft Avenue. To 1807. To a Rite Aid Pharmacy, where I burn the books of my past. To a small 14 dollar grill, where I begin again.

Does It Hurt?

Another beautiful love song. Catherine came over late on Sunday, and I heard this melody dancing somewhere.

"What do you think?" I asked her.

"I like it," she said.

I played it for a while. We sang the bits, until the jewels turned to words and we had a semblance of a lyric.

That was when I figured Catherine could take over. I love her lyrics. She makes things so effortless.

Tomorrow's a new day, she said. Told you yesterday. It won't hurt. It won't hurt.

I smiled. Beautiful. She is flawless.

We spent the rest of rehearsal with her on the bass guitar. I told her she was a natural. It's the truth. She also looks pretty cool playing the bass. It was like the instument for her.

"It fits you," I said.

"Yeah," she agreed.

Here is the song we recorded. I hope you enjoy it.

The art I create is about allowing the accidents and the imperfections within myself to be honored and celebrated. Here is Slipshod's rendition, of a happy accident, when two musicians held space among the infinite, and talked to loved ones like they talk to themselves.

Kisses to you all,

Pirooz, the Infinite

[for JP who likes poe A tree: The tender shaft blooms for no one in particular. It's hues placed in accordance with a time honered tradition, sits in a semi-circle by our feet. The master, upon the rug, blows from the pipe his truth like bits of orange peeled back from a mental kaliedoscope. It is in this periphery that one begins to ache for the Friend, and understand what hurts is not as heavy as an axe when it is shaped by a feather.]

[That is one of the prettiest poems I have written in 7 seconds.]

[Time is now irrelevant.]

Get Your AudioBook or Music Out to the World

As I promised last month, I would figure out a way to get on itunes. Here it is from itunes themselves. They sent me this message which declined my offer to have representation, but provides another route to accomplishing the task.

So if you are a musician, poet, or writer, may I suggest contacting one of these sites to get your media available for virtual distribution.

I hope this helps you in your artistic and financial endeavors.

With All the Love in My Heart,


North America:

Avatar -
CD Baby -
Digital Musicworks -
Digital Rights Agency -
Independent Bands -
Ingrooves -
IRIS Distribution -
The Orchard -
Tunecore -
Virtual Label -

Europe (and where located):

Artspages (NO) -
Believe Digital -
Consolidated Independent (UK/Europe) -
Edel (DE) -
Finetunes (DE) -
Kudos (UK) -
Phonofile Danmark (DK) -
PIAS (Benelux) -
Pinnacle (UK) -
SoulSeduction (AT) -
tate 51 (UK) -
The Music Business Organisation AS (DK) -
Uploader (UK) -
Vital (UK) -
Zebralution (DE) -

AmpHead Entertainment -

Japan: Rightsscale -
Pryaid -

PODCASTS:Please go to the iTunes Music Store to Submit a Podcast

AUDIOBOOKS:If you are an audio publisher or producer in the US who has at least five audio programs that will appeal to a wide audience and you would like to offer audio content in Audible's online store, contact iTunes Partner Provider AUDIBLE at In your email, please describe the content and length of your audio programs and let them know how many you have now and how many you'll publish over the next six months. If you are an audio publisher or producer in EUROPE who has at least five audio programs that will appeal to a wide audience and you would like to offer audio content in Audible's online store, please read the "Contact Us" page at

Into Dust

I love the people in this community. People are so sweet. They are like "what's up with Shikow?" when is Slipshod playing next?" and my very favorite "are you okay?"

So it looks like I will tell the nilly-willy with an extra dash of mmmm and gumdrops to boot.

I am good. I am great. Give me another piece of chocolate cake.

I spent the weekend exercising, doing an interview with the artist, Alice Ward, seeing V for Vendatta, and playing tennis with my brother, Paiman, at Fairfax High. It was a nice weekend. I am happy and content.

Right now I am preparing to launch Slipshod on itunes. I don't know how soon we will play out. That really depends on Slipshod. I am sure we can decide that on the 14th, when the gang gets back together to record Mars or Bust, the Soundtrack.

I would like to play basements, Hollywood parties, and the occasional coffee shop. So if you want us to play at your house, just invite us. We'll play. No bar mitzvahs though. It's more like, 'Hey, I love this band. We don't have to listen to their record. Here they are in my living room.' Only thing is, whoever invites us, has to sing at least one song with the group, or be prepared to have a song written about them on the spot.

Funny, funny, Little C says.

Sure, sure, I reply.

Yeah, so that's Slipshod. I contacted itunes, and they gave me a list of digital indie labels, who could escort me to itunes and all the possibilities it holds, and for that, I am grateful.

As far as Shikow, I will be doing the Cyndi Lauper shorts pretty soon. That is if Gabriel films them with me. Who knows? I might just direct these things myself.

In other news, I know I performed open heart surgery. It was necessary. No worries. Just stressful thoughts. None of them new. Just the same ones coming around to say peekaboo. Now they are quiet.

I have Langston Hughes, Charles Bukowski, and Idries Shah on my bed. A strange combination. I have been enjoying the Bukowski very much. He was so sad, but such a beautiful writer. He captures that personal downtrodden tip so well it tears me up and makes me want to reach into the page to lick or hug his shell back together again.

Tomorrow I talk to some folks about selling Strategies. I will tell you if... I won't say a word, if...

Too many if's. Not enough wise.
Burn back the bell to Sunday
where well worn boots are dropped
on the pile of dirty clothes.

Might be time for a new pair.
I leave the sandwich half-eaten.
I tear at my back a couple times.
Plenty of bugs. Lack of hugs.

I wish for an encyclopedia with wings.
It can carry me to Timbuktu
and tell me about Toulouse Latrec
shaking in a figure eight.

His eyes against my cheekbones
an answer to all prayers, all the
knees and nays of a hummingbird
beating its wings into dust.

Um...I'm tired. More later...

In My Office...


I was trying to figure out what it was that bothered me about the corporate sector. I was coming home from seeing V for Vendetta, when my brother's girlfriend, Letisha, hands me her college homework and says, "I don't understand this."

I looked over what Mr. Parkinson had to say. I smiled. The work does expand, but without any purpose. It is not contingent upon a heavy workload. It could in fact be the exact opposite.

I realized this was what was making me disgruntled at work. More and more individuals are hired to do the job of A, when A sits idly by until all the other letters of the alphabet work their best to only return the document, film, print ad, etc. to official A who returns it to a satisfactory demeanor of his choosing, making those under him irrelevant, but giving more time for him to accomplish a task.

Mr. Parkinson is brilliant. Below is an illustration of his law taken from I hope you enjoy it during your workday, in the garden, or in that NYC cafe that blips and whirs like Donkey Kong on Monday.

General recognition of this fact is shown in the proverbial phrase 'It is the busiest man who has time to spare.' Thus, an elderly lady of leisure can spend the entire day in writing and dispatching a postcard to her niece at Bognor Regis. An hour will be spent finding the postcard, another in hunting for spectacles, half an hour in a search for the address, an hour and a quarter in composition, and twenty minutes in deciding whether or not to take an umbrella when going to the pillar box in the next street. The total effort that would occupy a busy man for three minutes all told may in this fashion leave another person prostrate after a day of doubt, anxiety, and toil.

Granted that work (and especially paperwork) is thus elastic in its demands on time, it is manifest that there need be little or no relationship between the work to be done and the size of the staff to which it may be assigned. A lack of real activity does not, of necessity, result in leisure. A lack of occupation is not necessarily revealed by a manifest idleness. The thing to be done swells in importance and complexity in a direct ratio with the time to be spent. This fact is widely recognized, but less attention has been paid to its wider implications, more especially in the field of public administration. Politicians and taxpayers have assumed (with occasional phases of doubt) that a rising total in the number of civil servants must reflect a growing volume of work to be done. Cynics, in questioning this belief, have imagined that the multiplication of officials must have left some of them idle or all of them able to work for shorter hours. But this is a matter in which faith and doubt seem equally misplaced. The fact is that the number of the officials and the quantity of the work are not related to each other at all. The rise in the total of those employed is governed by Parkinson's Law and would be much the same whether the volume of the work were to increase, diminish, or even disappear. The importance of Parkinson's Law lies in the fact that it is a law of growth based upon an analysis of the factors by which that growth is controlled.

The validity of this recently discovered law must rest mainly on statistical proofs, which will follow. Of more interest to the general reader is the explanation of the factors underlying the general tendency to which this law gives definition. Omitting technicalities (which are numerous) we may distinguish at the outset two motive forces. They can be represented for the present purpose by two almost axiomatic statements, thus: (1) 'An official wants to multiply subordinates, not rivals' and (2) 'Officials make work for each other.'

To comprehend Factor One, we must picture a civil servant, called A, who finds himself overworked. Whether this overwork is real or imaginary is immaterial, but we should observe, in passing, that A's sensation (or illusion) might easily result from his own decreasing energy: a normal symptom of middle age. For this real or imagined overwork there are, broadly speaking, three possible remedies. He may resign; he may ask to halve the work with a colleague called B; he may demand the assistance of two subordinates, to be called C and D. There is probably no instance, however, in history of A choosing any but the third alternative. By resignation he would lose his pension rights. By having B appointed, on his own level in the hierarchy, he would merely bring in a rival for promotion to W's vacancy when W (at long last) retires. So A would rather have C and D, junior men, below him. They will add to his consequence and, by dividing the work into two categories, as between C and D, he will have the merit of being the only man who comprehends them both. It is essential to realize at this point that C and D are, as it were, inseparable. To appoint C alone would have been impossible. Why? Because C, if by himself, would divide the work with A and so assume almost the equal status that has been refused in the first instance to B; a status the more emphasized if C is A's only possible successor. Subordinates must thus number two or more, each being thus kept in order by fear of the other's promotion. When C complains in turn of being overworked (as he certainly will) A will, with the concurrence of C, advise the appointment of two assistants to help C. But he can then avert internal friction only by advising the appointment of two more assistants to help D, whose position is much the same. With this recruitment of E, F, G and H the promotion of A is now practically certain.

Seven officials are now doing what one did before. This is where Factor Two comes into operation. For these seven make so much work for each other that all are fully occupied and A is actually working harder than ever. An incoming document may well come before each of them in turn. Official E decides that it falls within the province of F, who places a draft reply before C, who amends it drastically before consulting D, who asks G to deal with it. But G goes on leave at this point, handing the file over to H, who drafts a minute that is signed by D and returned to C, who revises his draft accordingly and lays the new version before A.

What does A do? He would have every excuse for signing the thing unread, for he has many other matters on his mind. Knowing now that he is to succeed W next year, he has to decide whether C or D should succeed to his own office. He had to agree to G's going on leave even if not yet strictly entitled to it. He is worried whether H should not have gone instead, for reasons of health. He has looked pale recently – partly but not solely because of his domestic troubles. Then there is the business of F's special increment of salary for the period of the conference and E's application for transfer to the Ministry of Pensions. A has heard that D is in love with a married typist and that G and F are no longer on speaking terms – no-one seems to know why. So A might be tempted to sign C's draft and have done with it. But A is a conscientious man. Beset as he is with problems created by his colleagues for themselves and for him – created by the mere fact of these officials' existence – he is not the man to shirk his duty. He reads through the draft with care, deletes the fussy paragraphs added by C and H, and restores the thing to the form preferred in the first instance by the able (if quarrelsome) F. He corrects the English – none of these young men can write grammatically – and finally produces the same reply he would have written if officials C to H had never been born. Far more people have taken far longer to produce the same result. No-one has been idle. All have done their best. And it is late in the evening before A finally quits his office and begins the return journey to Ealing. The last of the office lights are being turned off in the gathering dusk that marks the end of another day's administrative toil. Among the last to leave, A reflects with bowed shoulders and a wry smile that late hours, like grey hairs, are among the penalties of success.

C. Northcote Parkinson, Parkinson's Law: The Pursuit of Progress, London, John Murray (1958)

Open Heart Surgery

My beautiful friends, Happy New Year!

How did I celebrate the Persian New Year?

I woke up early. I prayed in the four directions. I called out to the Spirit of the Sky and the Earth. I burned sage. I prayed for my friends and family. I asked Spirit to show me the light and illuminate me with it. I said I was grateful. I said I would listen. I told my great grandmother I loved her. I told my family I loved them. I told my friends I love them. I professed my love for all things.

This changed the temperature in the room. It changed the temperature at work. It changed the temperature in me. I am thankful for that. It has been an intense year for me. I got divorced, moved to a city, got a job in television, started working with children, released a comic book and record, and had to let go of all the old stories I had of who or what I was.

"You know they say divorce is one of the five leading causes to heart attacks," Nat Segaloff told me.


"It's all the stress."

Mmmm. This is where I understand. There has been stress in my life recently (thank you for asking, Sprigs). I spoke to Nicole last week about any possible reconciliation and she said no. It is not like this was unexpected. We have been apart for over a year. You could even say two, since we barely spoke the year prior to separating. But it still comes as a shock to me. I loved Nicole and was a good husband. I really can't understand why she would change her tune.

"This is her, not you," a shaman told me last year. "You are beautiful."

I am a good person. I know this. Of course, it is not something I have to manufacture. It's a magnetic pull deep inside me. It's gravity.

How can a person not feel that? How can a woman I loved so deeply uproot what was once love and turn from it without hesitation?

This is Nicole's story, so I can't ever know.

She has told me that she wasn't attracted to me anymore. This is what she keeps coming back to.

Not something I can really argue against. Arguing any part of it would be counter to reality, and leads to suffering. Believe me. I know. I tried to argue it while I was with her.

Why don't you want to sleep with me? I would ask. How come you don't ever want to hang out? Would you like to do something together? It's been a long time.

The questions continue along with her responses.

I think you're gay. I am not attracted to you. I didn't ever want to be married in the first place. I am not interested in you romantically.

The last statement was what I heard last Tuesday.

Again not something I am going to argue against. I told her I wished her the best, and that I would find out about getting the divorce papers filed.

"Don't hate me," she said.

"That's going to be hard," I said. "But I'll try."

She cried a bit.

I told her it was okay. She was still a good person. She didn't want to be with me. What more could we do?

So, yeah, this week has been a bit of a downer. It didn't help when the girl I was going to go on a second date with said she wasn't interested on the same day. I wasn't going to argue. I thanked her for telling me, and went about my business.

Now I am at home.

I am not mad or sad. I am simply thoughtful about relationships. They seem like such a waste after my experiences with them.

While Thomas was here, we got to chat a bit about being with other people. He was surprised when I told him I had yet to be with someone sexually who completed me.

"That's too bad, Pirooz. I am sorry for you."

That made me aware of how I have jumped into relationships with a false idea of love - a love that was based on my creation of it, rather than an actual experience of it.

Today a friend told me he was thinking of giving up art to have a life with the woman he loves.

"I get tired," he said. "There are just questions with art. Questions, questions, questions! I just want to be with my girl and live a life. Make something with her."

How beautiful, I thought.

And it is.

We don't live that long. I could die tomorrow. To have a genuine love is the greatest gift a person could have.

Of course, I don't know. I have loved without reciprocity. I have loved when there was no love. I have loved the idea of love.

I am a lover of concepts.

I despise them as well.

There, I have summed up my experience of love in two sentences.

It is strange to be an artist in love. For me at least. The women I meet are not necessarily interested in art. They are interested in other things. They want a home or family. They want to know they are appreciated. They want to communicate about their work or play.

I cannot tell a lie, says the GW in me. I have no interest in television. I have no interest in talking about American Idol. I have no interest in talking about art. I have no interest in pretending to be cordial. I don't want to fill a woman who has low self esteem. I don't want to be the person you come to for advice. I want a real partner.

Sometimes I wonder why I am not more like Picasso. I could just have lots of girls and enjoy the groupie life.

"I can't understand," Jeff's wife told me. "You're such a handsome guy. How come you don't have a girlfriend?"

Mmmm, yes. I'm alright. I have porked out a bit, but I'm alright. That is not the problem. It is my openness to love itself. I am open to being with people, but I don't know if I am all that capable. Relationships lose their interest for me. They become a lot of work, and I am up for an effortless union. I am up for working for something that gives in return.

Nicole didn't give back.

I left. It's that simple.

I don't need to explore her story with it. Mine is what mattered.

Sometimes I forget that and get bogged down with how I am not good enough. This is so yesterday and unuseful for me.

Take my friend N, for example. The other day I told her to meet Thomas and hook up with him.

"If he'll have you," I said.

"Oh, no," she said. "If I'll have him."

Another little Buddha to wake me up.

Yes, it is that simple. If I will have him or her.

Isn't it fascinating how quickly I jump the gun, because I am so desperate for approval? I will bend over backwards for a hello, when the hello's will come without any movement. They come when I am full and don't need any approval or appreciation.

God please let me lose my need for love, approval, and appreciation. Amen.

Byron Katie has it right. Very hard though. For me at least. I have gotten better at letting go of the art. I don't mind so much anymore. I can take criticism. I don't flinch if someone says they don't like something. I understand it's personal taste. I understand that even I like certain works more than others. This is natural. No problem. The ladies though. What a problem.

My brother recently got a book on being abused. He said it laid down how to be in a loving relatioship again.

I look forward to reading it. Maybe, it will have answers.

In the meantime, I have all the answers. I know all it takes is asking questions. I know I have stressful thoughts around love.

So with the world watching, in the celebration of Spring, and to share my genuine love with all of you - I will perform open heart surgery.

Stressful thoughts:

1. I am too fat.
2. Nicole betrayed me.
3. My parents were poor examples of a loving relationship.
4. I can only be with a woman if I am in love.
5. Love is the only time I will sleep with a woman.
6. My job is boring.
7. I want to make art for a living.
8. I want to be at peace with myself.
9. I am hungry.
10. I have to stop smoking.
11. No one loves me.
12. I am all alone.
13. I am lonely.
14. I would like to have a friend.
15. I want to sell this book.
16. I don't want to think anymore. Why am I thinking so much?

Hilarious. Okay. Those are my stressful thoughts. Now I will question them.


1. I am too fat.

Is this true? No, I am exactly what I need to be. Who would you be without this thought? I would be filled with more confidence about myself and talking to girls and not thinking about it at all and doing something useful like taking a walk or going to a museum or writing a beautiful book. Turn it around. I am not too fat. Yes, what up G money maker number five?

2. Nicole betrayed me.

Is this true? Yes, she is a fucking whore. I could shoot her with an M-16. Can you give 3 examples of how she betrayed you? 1. She didn't tell me she was unhappy in the relationship. 2. She said she was interested and then later said she wasn't. 3. She didn't want to get married in the first place.

Okay. A deep one.

She didn't tell you she was unhappy with the relationship. Is that true? No, I could tell from the get-go. Things didn't click. Okay. Who would you be without that thought? Friendly, happy, at ease. I wouldn't think about how she did something to me. I would just be. Turn it around. Nicole did tell me she was unhappy with the relationship. Is this more true? Yes, she showed with her lack of sexual enthusiasm, her lack of interest of spending time with me, and her behavior around me when I showed interest in her. Okay, so it wasn't some big surprise? No, it was clear as day. I just fought against it. Is there another turn around? I didn't tell me I was unhappy with the relationship. Yeah, I was so busy figuring her out, that I didn't figure me out. If I had truly asked myself, I would have been out of this relationship a long time ago. Is that true? You would be out a long time ago? I don't know. Yes, this is the past sweetie. We have to let it go. There is nothing you could do. Yes, thank you, Spirit. Thank you, pirooz. I know.

How about the other ones? She said she was interested and later she wasn't. Is that true? No, she may have said something, but it really didn't matter. I wasn't interested. Yes, Pirooz. You weren't. You married her because it suited your dream of marriage. She may have done the same. Yes, damn. Yes.

Now she didn't want to get married in the first place. Is that true? I don't know. That's what she said. Did you get married? Yes. Well, that answers that one. We can go deeper too. Whose business are you in? Yours or hers? Hers. Yes, what does it matter. What is your business? My business is how I felt about it. What do you mean? It felt shitty for her to say that to me. Yes, the world is shitty honey. Sometimes it is, but there is nothing we can do about it. We can only accept reality, or suffer while we try and change it. Yeah, I guess.

Why? What else is there? It still hurts though. Why can't I get rid of the hurt?

There is still a story.

Which one?

She is a bitch.

Is that true? Yes, she fucked me over.

(Wow. How brutal the mind can be?) Is that true? She fucked you over?

Yeah, she lied to me. She didn't give me what I needed. She made me waste so many years of my life.

She made you waste so many years of your life? Is that true? No. I chose to be with her. I chose to continue. Who would you be without the thought Nicole made you waste so many years of your life? I wouldn't think about her very much. I would concentrate on more important things like writing. Turn it around. Nicole did not make me waste so many years of my life. Yes, she didn't. I made me waste so many years of my life. Is that true? Yes. Can you absolutely know that it's true? No. It could have been just what I needed. Yes. Who would you be without that thought? I made me waste so many years of my life? I would be happy. I would be at ease. Yes, at ease. Turn it around. I did not waste so many years of my life. Is this more true? Yes, I did not. I learned about myself. I learned what I wanted in a relationship. I learned that I could be happy alone.

Nicole didn't want to get married in the first place. Is this true? Yes. Can you absolutely know it's true? No. We got married. I can't argue with that. Who would you be without the thought? I would be at ease. I wouldn't think about it all the time. Turn it around. Nicole did want to get married in the first place. Is this more true? Yes, we did. It's that simple. Is there another turn around? I didn't want to get married in the first place. Is this more true? I was unsure. Yes or no? Yes, I wanted to get married. I did. I wouldn't have if I didn't want to. I was hesitant, but I did it.

Okay. I have just aquired a new stressful thought. I just spoke to my father. He was pushy. He told he would get me a wife from Iran. He would collect pictures and then I would pick. This made me angry. I could appreciate that he came from love, but this idea is very stressful for me.


Becuase my parents have a knack for creating stress in my life.

Is this true?


Can you absolutely know this is true? Can you name 3 ways in which your parents have not caused you stress recently? 1. I don't live with them. 2. I haven't talked to them so much. 3. I create my own stress. So can you absolutely know this is true? Your parents create stress in your life? No. They love me. They want the best for me. They are sweet. Turn it around. My parents do not create stress in my life. No, I create stress in my life. I get sensitive when I am told things by them. I usually over react. It's not a big deal.

Why does your dad saying he will get a woman for you create stress in your life? He is in my business. It acknowledges that I am not happy with the way things are. It says I need a woman. It says that he is right. It says that I cannot be with an American woman.

All this from suggesting you try something out?

He is in your business. Is this true? Yes. I don't like it when my dad gets in my business. Is this true? Yes. What is reality? Do parents get involved in their children's business? Yes, this is what happens. You can't change reality can you? People judge. People get in each other's business? Right? Yes, this is true. So why fight reality? This is what parents do. Yes, this is true. I will not fight anymore. Turn it around. I am in his business? Mmmm. When I get mad that he is in my business and try to call him on it, then I am in his business. Yes, if he wants to suffer, this is his business not yours. It is between him and God, not you. Yes, this is reality. Thank you, God. Thank you, Pirooz.

I am not happy with the way things are.

Is this true?

Ha! Yes, this is true. I don't want to be divorced. I want to have my books sold. I want to sit at home and write everyday. I want someone to love and care for me.

Is this reality?

No. Reality is that I am divorced. Reality is I have to sell my books first. Reality is I have to work a corporate job to pay the bills. Reality is that I have all the someone I need. Me. I have to love and care for me.

Yes, how right you are.

How do I know I don't need what you want? I don't have it.

Yes, life is perfect as it is. I have all the tools to love and care for me. They are here now with these questions. They are in working and learning how to accomplish what I want. Yes.

Now why does the idea of getting a woman sent to you upset you so much?

It is chavunistic. It makes the woman a commodity.

Is that true?

I don't know.

Is it true?

If you got to talk to a woman from Iran on the internet and your family helped find someone for you. Does that make her a commodiy?

No, it doesn't. She would be given a new opportunity. She would be freed from a totalitarian regime. She would have a wonderful man.

Is this true? Whose business are you in?


Yes. You are creating a story for a woman who does not even exist.

I don't want to get married though.

Is that true? You don't want to get married?

No, this is not true. I would like to raise a family. I would like to be a husband and a father.

What about love? What about meeting a woman and talking to her and finding out what is best for me?

How would talking to a woman on the internet in Iran be any different?

They don't know the American culture. I would have to teach them. I would have to provide for them. I would be responsible. I wouldn't be able to change my mind. It would be a lot to bring someone to a country with just a few internet chats.

Yes, this is crazy. Yes, totally so. [laughing]

Okay, now you are clear. Yes, I am.

So what can you say about dating a woman from Iran? That would be fine. If I did it here in the states myself, that might not be a bad idea. Who knows? I don't want to fly to Turkey and check out brides like my dad wants though. I don't even want to get married.

Is that true? I thought you said you did.

I do. Not now though. Maybe, in a year or so. Right now I have some other things to take care of.

What about this semi-mail-order-bride?

I have to love myself. I want to be full inside, before I am with anyone. I don't want my parents involved in my love or married life.

Is that true? Yes, who would?

Understandable. Can you absolutely know it's true that you don't want your parents involved in your married life? Well, they are my parents so I don't have to much of a choice in this matter.

You are so funny. Go on.

Yeah, I mean they are crazy. Well, not crazy, but a lot to deal with. The woman I marry would have to deal with their cultural ways. Why? Is this true?

In a way. I want to have my parents in my life. If I married someone who wasn't able to understand the immigrant lifestyle and their old backward ways, they wouldn't get along.

Whose business are you in?



My parents and imaginary people.

Yes, this is true. Welcome back to reality, homeslice. Say I.






I am mad at my dad because he is trying to auction me off to the highest bidder.

Is this true? Yes.

Can you absolutely know this is true? Can you give 3 example of how this is true?

He wants to get me married.

You're a regular Jane Austen.

Ha! Jane Austen wasn't auctioned off though.

Well, neither are you. Lets be clear though. Can you name 2 more examples?

He is an asshole.

Does that have anything to do with being auctioned off to the highest bidder?

No. I am just frustrated.

Okay. Lets get back on track. You say you are being auctioned off to the highest bidder, because he is trying to marry you off to solve your problems. Is this true? Yes.

There are so many things inherently wrong with this. First of all, I don't have problem that a marriage would fix.

Is this true? Your lonely, right?

Not that lonely. I could end up in a tornado of hurt.

Yes, that is possible. Help me.

Okay, Pirooz. Take it step by step. Slowly.

I am mad at myself because I want to be with someone.

Is this true?


Can you absolutely know this is true?


I can't get with anyone though. I don't want responsibility and a marriage takes that. I want to be able to be free to be a kid, and a marriage doesn't offer that.

What is reality?

What's the truth?

You can't handle the truth!

Where is Santiago? Where did you hide the files?

Up your ASS!!!!

What's the truth?

I don't want to get my heart broken again. I don't want to betray myself again.

Is that possible? Can you know that?

No, I couldn't. Who would you be without that thought?

Someone who was willing to get their heart broken?

Visualize it. What do you look like when you have the thought "I don't want to get my heart broken again?"

I look like a Crumb comic. Like before he gets laid or something. I am in a little ball with squiggly lines coming off me, becuase I'm shaking.

Where do you feel it?

In my throat. In my back a little bit.

How do you feel without the thought?

Tired. I am ready to go to bed.

Good. What do you look like?

A newborn baby.


Seriously? Uh...I am walking to the library. I am doing my thang. What up?

Notice the language change?


Okay, we are done.

What about the other ones?

Number 3 will be tomorrow.

Why are you sharing this with bloggers?

I don't know. For approval and appreciation. To make it more real for myself. Isn't it real right now? To keep a record of it. To trace it back. I don't know. Is it necessary? Do you have to share this? No. Who would you be without the thought I need to share this? I would share it for different reasons.

3. My parents were poor examples of a loving relationship.
4. I can only be with a woman if I am in love.
5. Love is the only time I will sleep with a woman.
6. My job is boring.
7. I want to make art for a living.
8. I want to be at peace with myself.
9. I am hungry.
10. I have to stop smoking.
11. No one loves me.
12. I am all alone.
13. I am lonely.
14. I would like to have a friend.
15. I want to sell this book.
16. I don't want to think anymore. Why am I thinking so much?

Where we left off? A list. A laundry list of questions to ask the mind. Will our superhero find stillness? Will he be a samurai? Will he taste Foo Do Shin?

Who knows? He does have a cape though.

Combat boots too.

3. My parents were poor examples of a loving relationship.

Is this true? Your parent were poor examples of a loving relationship? Can you give me 3 examples where this is true?

1. They fought all the time.

When? Now? Recently? Lets be specific.

Mmmm. Yes, my parents were not the best examples of a loving relationship. This is true.

Well, the world is not fair. What can you do? Whose business is that?


Yes. Not yours.

Thank you, Spirit. Than you, God.

4. I can only be with a woman if I am in love.

Is this true? No, I have been with many women who I did not love.


5. Love is the only time I will sleep with a woman.

Is this true?

No. I would sleep with a woman if I was horny. I would sleep with a woman if it was offered. I would sleep with a woman for money.

You are so funny.

Dude, haven't you seen that movie with Robert Redford and Demi Moore?

Okay, funny guy.

Who would you be without the thought "I can only sleep with a woman if I'm in love?" I would be more relaxed. I would be willing to explore my sexual side. I would be less concerned. I would be happy.

Yes. Turn it around.

I can sleep with a woman if I'm not in love.

Sure, why not? By being open you just might find a deeper love than you ever thought possible.

Beautiful. So true, Pirooz. Thank you.

Your Welcome.

6. My job is boring.

Is this true? Your jobs are boring.


That's reality sucker. Move on. Nothing is exciting all the time.

But I want to write for a living.

Welcome to reality. Who does?

Not me.

Yes, not you right now. Get clear.

Thank you.

7. I want to make art for a living.

I don't know.

I love that answer. Come back to it.


8. I want to be at peace with myself.

Is this true? Not so far [laughing]

No, not yet.

Who would you be without that thought?

Relaxed and carefree. I would be me.



9. I am hungry.

Is this true?

A little bit. I could eat something. It would be nice.

10. I have to stop smoking.

Is this true?


Who would you be without this thought?

More inclined to stop smoking.

Yes, no one likes to be told what to do, not even by your own mind.

How true!


Thank you.

YOUr welcome. You are so polite.

No, you are.


11. No one loves me.

Is this true?


Who would you be without this thought?

I would be loving me.

Turn it aroud.

Everyone loves me. Is this more true?

Or they are on their way.

Another turn around?

I don't love me.

Yes, when I have this thought I don't love myself. It is very violent.

12. I am all alone.

Is this true?


Who would you be without this thought?

Happy. content.

Turn it around.

I am not all alone. Is this more true?

Yes, I am constantly surrounded by people.

13. I am lonely.

Is this true?

How funny! You are going to be alone until you die. You are stuck in this body. These questions are funny. Are you lonely?

Yes, when I don't realize that I am alone all the time.

Yes, your little body. That's it. Have fun.


Turn it around.

I am not lonely. I am the same. I am in my body. It is a good place to be. I can sing songs. I can work my digestion. I have a lot of organ to hang with. What up, G?

14. I would like to have a friend.

Is this true?

I have a hundred friends, but a few more wouldn't hurt. I would like to have a friend I could communicate on a very deep level.

Don't you have this everyday?


So why do you need more?

I don't. Everything is perfect. Yes.

Who would you be without the thought "I need a friend?"

I would be available to be on a deeper level with the friends that are with me now.

Yes, homeslice. You are so cool.

15. I want to sell this book.

Is this true?

Yes. It would be nice.

What have you done to make it happen?

I got an agent. I dropped him to get into the magazine. I looked for other agents, and now I am checking out publishers.

Is there anything more you could be doing?

I could research more and talk to people; network my way down different avenues.

Yes, television has taught you that.

It's easy. Roll with it.

Things will come. Be patient.

Yes, thank you, Pirooz. You are really kicking ass.

Yeah, it feels great. Thanks.

16. I don't want to think anymore.

Is this true?

No. I will think. It is what humans do.

Yes, you have a mind. It works. It doesn't turn off. It can only get still.


How do you feel now?

Pretty quiet.


I could smoke a cigarette.

Go ahead. Why not? You're addicted.

That's true.

Thank you, Pirooz for doing this with me.

It's my pleasure P. I love you. I will see you on the flip okay?

Yeah, totally.

To listen to the work done in another format visit Byron Katie's website at

Best Wishes and Happy New Year,

Pirooz M. Kalayeh

"I Am a Sex Addict" is Coming to Theaters in April

After a long campaign trail, Caveh Zahedi has sold his film to IFC. Now he gets to have his due. Now he is President.

That makes me happy. It's also a huge lesson.


Believe me. It is easy for me to give up on marketing things. It is easy to say I don't want to be part of the machine or I am making art for posterity. It is easy to see the glass half full.

Caveh, like all artists who get their due, put an end to this scenario. He accepted the reality of the system and marketed his film to be on the mainstage.

This is the reason he is now our elected official.

"Very Aikido," a voice says. "Very Mu Shin."

Hopefully, I will learn from my friend's example and create a campaign for my books. Maybe, like Caveh, it will take touring the country and (in my case) doing readings and selling the product myself. What an undertaking for Caveh though? Unbelievable.

I am so proud and thankful for Caveh and all the people who have helped him bring I Am a Sex Addict to the national platform. I am a huge fan of Caveh's, and believe he is creating influential, daring, and emotionally powering films. What more can we ask of an artist?

Click here or on pic to watch the trailer.

Click here to read our interview in July.


"...hundreds of stone-throwing protesters took to the streets here Thursday...beating back government guards to storm and destroy a museum dedicated to the Halabja attack..."

There is something about this image taken by Johan Spanner / Polaris for The New York Times I haven't been able to figure out.

Is it that the Iraqi man holds an office chair? Is it a signal of how a forced democracy will never work?

I don't know.

This image is everything I'm not. This image does not need to be understood. This image is a story of how to throw a chair. This image is heartbreaking. This image is exciting. This image is the sign of a story that did not change.

I wonder if there is any difference between corporate America and the man in this picture. I wonder if there is any difference between the two of us. I wonder how many broken office chairs it will take. I wonder how soon before I throw a chair. I wonder if I will run for office only to throw a chair.

My Hair Slightly Flat After a Long Day's Work

I think I am turning into the Buddha. Pretty soon I will have a spear. Just imagine one next to me. It is behind me actually. Ready to strike. That will be a book I write. That title.

Now I will write a comic before bed.

Thomas Henwood will be visiting tomorrow. He will be staying with me. I am sure he will take better photographs than this one. I will commission him to take a photo of me in the element. I will post that as well.

I also have a film series I would like to start with Cindi Lauper's "All Through the Night." So far I have surfing and George Bush as my subjects. Now I just have to figure out how to get to the beach.

Ah, yes, thank you Spirit. This is where Thomas comes to the rescue.

U is Boomerang

Nothing is better than those little moments. Those inklings of space and time where the world collides with your absolute consciousness and everything slows down to such a perfect clarity that you know you are living this moment as a breaker from all that has come before it.

I watch life for these moments. I link them together to make stories. I link stories together to make novels. I watch blogs to see when it will happen on other blogs.

If I was a Zen master, this would happen every second.

I am not a Zen master.

It happens when I stop thinking.

It is funny I don't see these moments more often.

Is that the secret to writing? Is that love?

For the past 2 months I have been sitting with the question of love. I made an entire record about it, and then I proceeded to rip apart my mental warehouse for any clues on love. I even explored relationships as an observer and participant.

In fact, I search for this answer everyday.

Is this how to be a good reader? Is this the answer to every question I have ever asked?

Yeah, it is.

So are you going to tell us about it?

This morning I forgot where I parked. I started walking from the apartment.
One of L.A.'s homeless stood in front of the complex.
She was motionless.
I could hear her mumbling.
I looked down at her hands.
They were crossed.
She is praying, I thought.

I had a smoke.
I listened to a crow.
The palm tree moving above me.
Down the trunk to the woman
talking. It dawned on me
God was a tree.
That seems right, I thought.

Suddenly, I remembered where I parked.
I walked past her. I looked at the tags on the tree. CLP. What does CLP mean? And then down to her bag. The Ground is Where You Are, was sewn on its front.

Tonight, I remembered this moment as Jim unbuttoned his top button for a better range of free motion.
That's a poem, I thought.

Is this a poem?

Now there come choices. I can make the poem immediate. I can make it be in the present tense. I can make it more auditory. I can create the sound of the crow. I can paint the palm tree.

I think how poems are like films. I think why don't more filmakers go to poems to make short films? I think how my favorite anything's have a little bit of everything, and that most of all they have love.

Then I realize how many moments in my day today were wasted thinking when I could have noticed love.

I didn't have to worry about work, or the fact that this is now officially my life without Nicole.

These aren't loving thoughts. They aren't because they are thinking. They are the story of how I am experiencing love.

But love isn't a story.

It's much more simple. And writing is about finding a way to tell how you find this moment. For even if the art describes love's loss, if it is told with understanding, it will only be a boomerang.

This is what I notice today.

This is what I write.

Woman prays.
Crow and tree listen.
I am grateful.

The ______ inside us hasn't moved. It is in everything. Even a grain of sand.

The word you choose is the way you live.

Shopping on Melrose, Walking down Hollywood, and Hanging on the Sunset Strip

Saturday is now my official day off. I spent it wisely [Insert King Arthur from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade].

Earlier today I managed to get myself to Melrose to do a little shopping and get my ultra-fabulous doo.

I was told to go to the BuZz Stop to get this guy, London, to cut my hair and there were no if's, and's, or shaking the salami's about it.

"Go to him," my friend told me.

"The town?"

"He does crazy hair," he explained. "You'll like the Buzzsaw too."

He was right. I enjoyed the experience thoroughly. Like me, London, was a former rocker, and I had fun shooting the shit with him about playing in a band, the trials and tribulations, and the wonders of no good or bad, as he snipped away with a razor and scissors:

"There is no good or bad."


"Right or wrong."

[snip, snip]

"Either or."


"Dude," London smiled. "You're welcome here anytime."

I thought that was so sweet. I didn't really say anything. We just talked about good and bad and its relation to not knowing, because how could we when we were not God. Period, point blank, that was it.

But how fun to meet him. He was really a joy, and he gave me a great haircut.

"I love doing hair," he told me. "I get to create every 5 minutes."

"Mmmm," I said.

"I just," he paused and sprayed some water on my hair, "wish I remembered my camera."

Fantastic human being. He told me that in Europe right now the music craze is moving towards glam rock again. I thought that was so interesting.

"From Morrison, to Iggy, to Axl," I said.

"Yeah," London agreed. "Crazy."

L told me where Axl lived and said he would hook me up with this paintball video game. He said it's real fun.

That sounded good to me. I gave him a 20 dollar tip for being a NY Doll, because it felt like the right amount, and then I headed down Melrose for a little buying action. That was when I ran into a record label exec who is managing WUSE. He told me they were trying to get Wuse on Warner Brothers and that he was out on Melrose handing out records to create some buzz.

"Any donation will help," he said. "We're just doing our thing, you know?"

I am all about self-promotion, subversive PR work, and the underdog, so I handed him 5 bucks grabbed a record and headed into Wasteland.

It was slim pickings, but I did manage to find this pretty cool black army shirt that comes off very rock 'n' roll.

I think I made a good choice. When I got home and tried the sucker on, my little brother, Panauh, giggled. First, about the mohawk, then about my shirt.

"Your chest hairs are showing," he said.

"What can I do about that?" I asked.

"It looks good," he said. "Your hair is like a mohawk."

"Yeah," I agreed.

"That's very L.A." he nodded.

I nodded as well and walked out the door to meet Dacheux.

She was in the Sabe when I walked in. She looked very cute. A little hat and her traditional red designer jacket. Hair in pigtails.

"What do you want?" I asked, heading to the bar.

"Nothing," she said.

"How about a matte latte?"

"Okay," she agreed. "A little one."

I got her a little one and we decided to take a walk down Hollywood towards Vermount. She wanted to look for some gifts for Alabaster's BDay (March 12 for those who want to congratulate him), and I was the accomplice.

We had a nice chat down Hollywood. We talked about how weird I was, and that it would probably take a lot before I found a woman that would be my everything.

"Yeah," Dacheux agreed. "You're a weird guy."

"I think I might need a prostitute or some crazy art rock girl that could hold onto me."

"Yeah," Dacheux agreed again.

She told me how it would come with time. You know the dilly. And then we shot the shit about small presses and the possibility to bring one of a kind works of art to the public as a viable option to traditional publishers.

I liked that idea very much and told her so.

"I like that idea very much," I said.

She giggled.

I went with that idea into Skylight Books. I was lucky enough to find some writing that actually interested me. It was the #16 issue of McSweeney's. I read the first sentence and I was interested. I decided to get it.

"22 dollars," the cashier said.

"Expensive," I replied, and handed him the cash.

That was when I caught wind of the Warhol uber-book lying out on display. I forgot all about expensive. I was in Warhol land. I went through the whole thing.

God, I love Andy. He was fantastic.

When I got to "Ten Punching Bags" I just stopped and marveled.

The piece had ten punching bags lined up in the Bishofberger gallery. Each bag had a Basquiat portrait of the Virgin Mary, and then scrawled throughout the collection of ten was the word 'judge.'

I thought that was remarkable. Probably my favorite art piece ever.

Really. Ever. It was great.

"Sounds good," Dacheux smiled.



We went right next door for some Miso and tempura. Very tasty. Almost as nutirtious as our conversation. We were still going on about about small presses. Dachex brought up Ken Mikelowski, and that made me happy. I love Ken. He is a fantastic poet. I can even remember one of my favorite poems by him.

Things To Do In an Economic Crisis

Buy low. Stay high.

That sounds about right to me, I thought.

I had a chance to get high on life later too. I hit a theater party late in the night, and hooked up with Jesse and Paiman, and said hello, and made a date to play chess, and smooched all the pretty girls who offered me their cheeks.

Then I got a call from Mark Parsia, who played in an old band with me, and headed off to the Sunset Strip for a healthy discussion on knowing.

His girlfriend, K, (who is awesome btw), couldn't understand why I kept saying 'I didn't know.'

"I am going to get you to change your mind about that," she said.

"I don't know," I told her. "Maybe, it's possible."

"Hey!" she shouted. "That's good. I like that. I like your philosophy. I agree with it. You don't know. But what about when it comes to family. Like my sister, the other day I gave her advice. I asked her a question. And I don't do this all the time. But, sometimes you got to throw the card down. You got to ask them something. You can't just say, 'I don't know and good luck with it.' "

"I don't know," I said.

"Hey!" she laughed.

"No, really," I said. "I don't know. For me, it has been wonderful to let go of the story that I am somehow resposible for anyone in my family. I don't even pretend like I know. I really don't. I just don't."

"So you're saying that if someone was about to commit suicide, you wouldn't ask them - or you wouldn't help them out by letting them know how much you love them?"

I shrugged.

"Well, people need that. That's what makes people stop from killing themselves. They think about how much somebody else would need them or how upset their parent would be."

This was where Mark got into it. He said the opposite and I didn't say anything.

The idea that I would let go of this 'not knowing' was finally brought back to me again, but I didn't really make any headway in explaining it. It makes sense to me, but I don't really know how to explain it to anyone else.

It was fun to listen to K. and Mark talk about their experience of L.A., and how much they loved New York, and the wonderful unity they felt in the recent transit strikes in the city.

"She volunteered for the Red Cross," Mark told me.


"Yeah," K nodded. "It was great. I made hot chocolate and coffee for all the people coming over the Williamsburg Bridge. It was great. You had such a diversity of personalities. People biking and roller blading down the whole way (she mimics rollerblading in her chair). People just walking from the East side all the way into town."

"And it was so cold," Mark said, as his eyes acknowledged the gravity of how cold it was by growing as wide as it must have been cold.

"Oh, so cold," K agreed. "5 hours out there and I was drained. But it was so great to see the people coming through. And there was this one kid who was little. Like 12 years old. He was the oldest and he was walking all these other 7 and 8 year olds to school. And when they found out that the drinks were free, he was like, 'Okay, everybody can order a drink.' As if, now it was allowed. Oh, it was so funny."

It was good to talk to both of them.

I walked out of the Rainbow Room and down Sunset. A couple hoodlums gave me the eye. I kept walking. It was cold. I got in my car. I blasted the heat, and then I zoomed up to La Brea, took a left, a right on Franklin, and pumped The Slipshod Swingers the whole way.

It's good to be alive, I thought. It's nice to drive fast in L.A.

Burly Bear

Senor Douchebag is cracking me up today with STONE COLD POETRY BITCHES. I don't even read them. I just get to that big font and start cracking up.

Ellipses Strikes Again

March issue of Ellipsis is out!

Lots of writers: Brian Evenson, Laird Hunt, Tara Blaine, Daniel Wallace, Jim Scott, James Drinard, Willie Smith, Mark Gluth, Connie Voisine...Kalayeh (that's me, what up?)

And it's looking better and better. I haven't got a chance to check out the issue. It literally just came in. I will probably check out Richard Froude's interview with Tara first off. I think she's hot.

Anyway, great job Ellipsis. I hope the world is treating you right. You are definitely giving us all something extraordinary.

To get Ellipsis in your store just request it. According to H. Perry Horton, the magazine's editor-in-chief, it is now available nationwide. Simply contact your local bookseller and offer them the following info., along with the mag's title.

Here it is from the Editor's Mouth:

1. Ingram Periodicals - - 1-800-627-MAGS (nationwide and chain stores, like universities run by Barnes and Noble)
2. Ubiquity Magazines - - 718-875-5491 (east coast independent stores)
3. Small Changes - - 1-800-GET-MAGS (west coast independent stores)
4. Media Solutions - 615.213.0081 (east coast Books-a-Million stores)

Spread the fire. The fever is catching.

I will catch you guys on the flip,


Nisa Ahmad Is Asking Some Very Good Questions

Glamazon Life is an account of the life of a black girl, playing dress up in martini, one kiss, one long night, one lazy morning, one love, one heatbeat at a time!

Glamazon also asks questions I have thought about myself, or maybe I am now. Check it out, if you like. It might do the same for you.

Black White, one of the many shows Nisa has produced, is premiering this week on FX. From the buzz I have been hearing about it, I would say it's well on its way to being a hit.

Roots of Orchis are playing San Francisco Tonight

For all my peeps in San Francisco.

Root of Orchis
March 10th @ Bottom Of The Hill
1233 17th Street , San Francisco, CA - $10
Pink Mountaintops/ Skygreen Leopards/ The Roots Of Orchis 9pm 21+ We're playing first so get there early

Independent Publishers Who Accept Non-Agented Queries

I will continue this list, until I know what publishers I dig and which I don't. I hope this is useful for the writers in our community. If I have omitted someone that definitely needs adding, let me know. Just remember I am only up to the C's as of today.

Fiction Publishers

Academy Chicago Publishers

Editorial & Marketing Departments:Academy Chicago Publishers363 West Erie Street, 7EChicago, Illinois 60610Phone: 312/751-7300 or 800/248-READFax: 312/751-7306

By and large, Academy Chicago does not publish books with explicit, gratuitous sex and violence; we no longer publish science fiction or thrillers, neither of which do very well for us. We do not publish cookbooks, self-help or books dealing with the supernatural--that is, anything to do with angels and life after death, although we do publish ghost stories; however, most of the latter which we do publish are classics. We do not publish horror or photography books, nor do we do children's books, other than children's classics. We do not have any Young Adult classification.


Akashic Books is a Brooklyn-based independent company dedicated to publishing urban literary fiction and political nonfiction by authors who are either ignored by the mainstream, or who have no interest in working within the ever-consolidating ranks of the major corporate publishers. Akashic BooksP.O. Box 1456 New York, NY 10009Tel: 718.643.9193/Fax: 718.643.9195 email:

Aresenal Pulp Press

First submissions should include a marketing analysis, a synopsis of the work, and a sample (fifty to sixty pages is usually enough). If our editorial board is interested, you will be asked to send the entire manuscript.

Editorial BoardArsenal Pulp Press341 Water Street, Suite 200Vancouver, BC CanadaV6B 1B8


Avocet Press Inc is a small, independent publisher of a wide variety of quality literature. Our offerings range from important contemporary poetry to mysteries to beautifully written historical fiction. We are particularly interested in work that is different, exciting, and awakens us to angles of the world that we haven't noticed before.


Founded in 1955, GEORGE BRAZILLER, INC. is a small, independent publishing house based in New York City. For over 45 years, we have been publishing outstanding international literature and some of the most beautiful and renowned books on art and architecture. We pride ourselves on consistently publishing books of exceptional content and quality, as well as consistently discovering new writers and exploring new areas in the world of art. The diversity of our list, which embraces fiction, nonfiction, poetry, art, architecture, and design, continues to be an important aspect of our publishing program.


Carolina Wren Press is a nonprofit organization whose mission is to publish quality writing, especially by writers historically neglected by mainstream publishing, and to develop diverse and vital audiences through publishing, outreach, and educational programs.

CAROLINA WREN PRESS 120 Morris St., Durham NC 27701.(919)560-2738. Email: carolinawrenpress at .Website: Andrea Selch, president.Estab. 1976.


Cavan Kerry Press

Dedicated to the advancement of the art of writing and to outreach programs that bring this art to under-served communities, CavanKerry publishes established writers and hitherto unpublished writers, as well as out-of-print work, collections of essays, and anthologies that spotlight and support other arts organizations. From its inception, CavanKerry has placed an emphasis on publishing gifted though unrecognized poets and is committed to publishing three first collections a year. These manuscripts are selected from open submission without the more traditional fee-for-entry competition that support many first books.

Florenz Eisman, Managing EditorCavanKerry Press Ltd.99 BoulevardGlen Rock, NJ 07452


Chiasmus Press is a Northwest, Portland-based literary collective intent on printing the most innovative emerging authors, those who have been excluded or have not yet been co-opted by the mainstream-print-industry or well established, often academically entrenched, forms of Avant-gardisms. As Chiasmus (ky-AZ-mus) n. is defined as a reversal in the order of words in two otherwise parallel phrases, our purpose is to promote a reversal in the order of words in two otherwise parallel realities.

Chiasmus Press is a mutating imprint (or imprinting mutation), evolving from Two Girls Press, founded by Lidia Yuknavitch, the publisher of Northwest Edge: Deviant Fictions, as well as the literary magazine, two girls review.


Chronicle Books

About Us : Mission Statement"Inspired by the enduring magic and importance of books, our objective is to create and distribute exceptional publishing that's instantly recognizable for its spirit, creativity, and value. This objective also informs our business relationships and endeavors, be they with customers, authors, vendors, or colleagues."


Clear Cut Press was founded and is run by Richard Jensen, a former executive of Sub Pop Records (Nirvana, Mudhoney) and co-founder of Up Records (Modest Mouse, Built to Spill), and Matthew Stadler, a novelist (Allan Stein) and literary editor of Nest magazine. As a business and artistic venture, Clear Cut is inspired by early 20th-century subscription presses Hours Press and Contact Editions, and by the midcentury paperbacks of New Directions and City Lights. These historical models seem well-suited to the independent economies that emerge every generation or so around the cultural movements and new demands of global youth, whether punk, grunge, hip-hop, hippie, beatnik or flapper.


Poetry Publishers

Adventures In Poetry (This is for Jim Goar)
AIP 25 White PlaceBrookline, MA02445Phone: 617.734.0661 Fax: 617.734.0661

ADVENTURES IN POETRY began publishing in 1968 as a mimeographed “little magazine,” and continued through 1976 with individual pamphlets, featuring work by John Ashbery, William Burroughs, Allen Ginsberg, Bernadette Mayer, Frank O'Hara, James Schuyler, Anne Waldman and numerous others.


The Alice James Poetry Cooperative currently accepts submissions only through its two annual competitions: The Kinereth Gensler Award (formerly The New England / New York Competition) and the Beatrice Hawley Award.


Apogee Press publishes the work of innovative and experimental poets.Culturally and formally diverse, our poets share an original use of language.

Apogee PressP.O. Box 8177Berkeley, CA


Atelos was founded in 1995 as a project of Hip's Road, devoted topublishing, under the sign of poetry, writing which challenges theconventional definitions of poetry, since such definitions havetended to isolate poetry from intellectual life, arrest its development,and curtail its impact. (does not accept unsolicited ms)


Ausable Press

Ausable Press1026 Hurricane RoadKeene NY 12942

Founded in 1999 by poet Chase Twichell, Ausable Press (pronounced aw-SAY-bul) is a not-for-profit independent literary press located on the East Branch of the Ausable River in the Adirondack Mountains of northern New York. Its mission is to publish poetry that investigates and expresses human consciousness in language that goes where prose cannot.


Autumn House Press was launched in 1998 when prominent American publishers, driven by economic concerns, dramatically reduced their poetry lists and important contemporary poets were left struggling to find publishers. Small presses are now publishing some of the most important poetry in America, and are largely nurturing the great American poetic tradition. We want to ensure that this tradition continues.

We believe poetry is an affirmation of the deep and elemental range of our human experience, and our need for it is as crucial now as it ever has been. We are committed not just to publishing the prominent poets of our age, but also to publishing first books and lesser-known authors who will become the important poets of their generation. We pledge to edit this poetry with devotion and care, and to create beautiful books that are
worthy of it.

Autumn House PressP.O. Box 60100Pittsburgh PA 15211


BOA EDITIONS, LTD. is a Pulitzer Prize-winning, not-for-profit publishing house that has received national acclaim for its work. Founded in 1976 by the late poet, editor and translator, A. Poulin, Jr., BOA has published more than 170 books of American poetry and poetry in translation. Beginning in 2007, the press will begin publishing fiction through its American Reader Series.


Chax Press publishes writing that does not take things for granted — things like "what is a poem,""what is an author," or "what does it mean to read?"


A Short List of Publishers Who Are Humor/Satire Friendly

I have created a short list of possible publishers for The Whopper Strategies. This is a preliminary list. Some will require an agent.

For those writers who are looking to publish humor/satire type novels. These may prove to be a good resource.

Creative Guy Publishing
Accept initial e-queries. Looking specifically for novellas (15 to 40K)
Lots of humor...


DAW Books
375 Hudson Street
New York, NY 10014

Novels in the 80,000 wd range. Looking for Sci fi/Fantasy
(I could pitch TWS in this avenue; a longshot but worth a try)


Tor Books
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010

Sci-fi and Fantasy (Patrick Nielsen)


Melville House Publishing
(Crazy Indie - No rules)

300 Observer Highway
Third Floor
Hoboken, NJ 07030


Adams Media Corporation
Humor books
(Corporate manuals and such)


Manic D Press
(My favorite press so far--like me)

Villard (Multicultural and humor friendly)
Crown Publishing Group (Some satire books)
Andrews McMeel Publishing (Calvin & Hobbes fame)


I love the idea of selling TWS as a real manual. It looks like I will have a shot at a pitch to Adams Media Corporation. Who knows? They just might see the potential.


Notes: (to self)

Dude, look how easy it is. Just do the work and then find the niche market.

Identify what you're trying to sell. Is it a humor book? A science fiction piece?

Nat says it reminds him of Bright Lights, Big City, Brett Easton, and J. Mcierney. Look these guys up. See who their editors were. What companies?

Any other possibilities?

Hmmm...I don't know. I will start pouring over the physical texts after a couple more days on the internet.

If anyone comes across a publisher or agent, who seems a fit for TWS send their contact info or website my way. I'll check them out.


Pirooz Kalayeh

Yes, it is

Selling 3 Books Together

I talked to Nat, a fellow writer, and his idea was to sell "...Strategies" as a Humor/Satire and couple it with the other books I wrote and then let the publisher separate into 3 novellas if they wish.

Not a bad idea. I will submit it to Daw books this weekend and check out the other possibilities coming available as my research continues.

If any of you have contacts, let me know.


Still Alive, Looking for a Hip, Indie Publisher, and Humming the Godfather Theme

I am still alive. Can you believe it? HA!

Okay, so I am about done with Los Angeles. Time for a change for me. I have been playing with the idea of San Francisco in my head. The other spot would be Delaware. Yes, that's right, my roots.

We will see what the future holds. I have no idea.

It looks like Jim will be in Brazil or Florida. If I get my citizenship on the 28th, I might just putz around some foreign countries for a while. Who knows?

I might just get a dog and walk across America. Ha!

I really have no idea.

Maybe, New York City is the next logical choice.

We will see what happens.


In other news, I am still searching for a possible agent. No idea who I will find. I have 2 big books from Amazon to research.

I have half the mind to find a cool independent publisher and just pitch it myself, which is something I might very well do. We'll see if I find a publisher that is a good match for "The Whopper Strategies."

If anyone has ideas of a hip, indie publishers or knows of an insider, please email me some contact info. (the benefecator will definitely have some huge stakes in my Favor Bank.)


Anything else?

I am writing the strangest things.

Pat Morita walled himself in a hotel room and drank himself to death in 6 months.

I am now reading The Zahir. I will be done tomorrow. Good book.


Last thing

I cannot stop humming The Godfather theme song.

Funny thing is that the moment that I stopped and took a walk up Lankershim, I ran headfirst into the soundwaves of The Godfathertheme pouring from a little trailer selling Italian fast food.

"I feel like I'm going to get shot," my walking partner said.

"Hmmm," I say. "Just when I thought I was out."

"What?" WP asks.

"Nothing," I say. "Hey, listen to that! They switched over to NY, NY. It's definitely a mobster ice cream truck."

"No," WP says. "It's just Gazeno's...the Italian trailer."

Man, Hollywood is weird.

Now I am eating a salad with imitation crab meat. The girls in the cubicle next to me keep asking if I am eating my salad. I ask them why they are mothering me. They giggle and stuff their faces.

I am about to join them.