Howard Owens gets a job and shakes hands with a Moorhouse - By N.L. Belardes

Former newspaper nemesis Howard Owens has decided to move on from the sweaty confines of Bakersfield proper. And not quietly so. He went public and announced his transition from Bakersfield to Rochester, New York on howardowens.com.

What's this? My former blog sparring partner has jumped into another ring?

Why would I announce such?

Maybe the blogosphere in Bakersfield has been just a little different since his ousting from his high-and-mighty VP chair at the Bakersfield Californian. He was let go. But why? Does Howard even know? The subtleties in his posts are intriguing as I always wonder, What does Howard really mean? His love for the media industry that shines through his blog might just begin to suffer since he will be the director of Internet Publishing at Gatehouse Media, a conglomerate operating 450 small dailies, weeklies and shoppers.

There's an interesting history between myself and Howard. We once eyed each other over burgers at Jerry's Pizza: blogger meets News Media Internet Pimp VP. We left the pizza-a-go-go with guns drawn—though no shots were fired—yet eventually we had some skirmishes online that I think were tantamount to a small town blog war.

Has the dust really settled, Howard?

Howard drove his yellow pony Mustang and parked it right in front of the Californian building and waited outside for me to arrive. I felt like a reckless teenager as I saw him standing in the shade. He looked like he was about to spray paint "howardowens.com" on the side of the newspaper building. Would I have stopped him or just snapped a photo?

"Want to get a coffee?" I asked.

"Sure," he said. He left his yellow pony right there in front of the Californian building, a big yellow pustule on the street that I half expected to be cleansed by the time we got back.

Suddenly I stuck my hand in my pocket to see if I had any money. It's never any good to ask someone for coffee and then have to borrow five bucks. Just ask Monty Byrom. I pulled out about fifteen.

"I hope you're buying. All I have is a dollar," Howard said.

"Don't worry. I got it."

At Dagny's we didn't get coffee at all. He got a black iced tea and I got my usual strawberry smoothie. This was an important meeting. I was tempted to ask for a whipped cream topping. I held back.

We sat near a window and talked about Howard's transition. We discussed the video revolution on the Internet and youtube.com. I mentioned a possible post-modern travel blog project with shozu.com. We spoke dark tales of Bakersfield Lords and of dualistic shadows of people who may still run the city's high powers. I shared my strange "Gay snuff tape" story where an old professor back in the 1980s insisted I do a paper on "gay snuff tapes". If that wasn't admitting that the Lords have a videotape, I don't know what was. Howard shared his own very interesting barbershop tale, and an eye-opening Air Force vignette. We talked about his new job and responsibilities and what life would be like in Rochester, away from family, but closer to baseball. "It's very positive after being ousted," I said.

"We might still be looking at each other with mutual distrust"

"Hey, maybe it's better this way."

Yeah, life's better without so much drama.

But is the blog?

Although I poke fun at the newspaper, I listen to Howard when he gives me advice about how the newspaper industry is run. He makes valid points; his most recent about why Internet content appears missing from the Californian's database. "Archiving is one of the biggest issues affecting newspapers today. Especially when newspapers have to turn to vendors for their archiving. In a perfect world, it would all be permalinks."

Yet I still can't find Bakersfield.com archived articles on the plagiarism scandal that smashed the Bakersfield print media giant last year. Nothing. Google, or the search engine on Bakersfield.com. I suppose I could go ask the paper, and they might say so look at microfilm. But I want the instant gratification of looking on the Internet. Besides, wasn't the plagiarism scandal newsworthy? They did write about it… and they were good articles… but where are they? I'm too lazy to go ask the Californian, and even though many folks over there read this blog, I doubt if they will comment. I think they're too afraid I'm a prowling blogger, ready to pounce on them, the same way a local artist was paranoid I was going to pounce on Camille Gavin.

Maybe Black Dog is the real blogger to worry about. He's scandalous. Just kidding.

Into Dagny's walked the daughter of Ginger Moorhouse. I think Howard mentioned her name was Ginny. When I saw her I instantly wondered if she or another relative would one day be primped to run the family-owned Bakersfield Californian.

Howard stood up warmly shook her hand. She eyeballed me a couple of times as they spoke. Did she recognize me? Was she wondering if we were going to team up and go postal?

As we left I said hello to James Ratliff from the band The Indians. He sat having a drink and was reading about "reason in writing". Such a philosopher is young James the musician and student…Howard made a slight joke about there being "no reason in writing" to James as we headed out the door.

While Howard headed to his yellow pony and I wandered next to him, headed back to my day job, I joked, "I wonder if your car was keyed."

We laughed.

Child Day of The Dead Strikes Bakersfield's Maple Street - By N.L. Belardes

I had just arrived home from work when one of my boys received a phone call that there had been an explosion one street over. I didn't have time to even grab a camera. chingpea had a camera phone and we were off to the scene to see what tragedy had struck our immediate community.


A crowd gathers on the corner of Maple Street and Oleander

It seems anything can happen in the Oleander area: a novel about the creepy old Fritts mansion, stories about a possibly unsafe water park, a house fire, a mugging by 15-20 kids attacking 3 boys after a football game, strange break-ins, and now a mysterious explosion striking Maple Street children, killing two of them.


News crew interview...


A police officer arrives to rope off the area


A relative of the homeowner comes up the street


Roped off...

Were they playing with ammunition that got dumped into a fire/barbecue pit? That's what was told to me by the supposed brother of the man who owns the house where the explosion took place. He had come up the street, holding the hand of a crying woman who walked a bike. He appeared in shock. When they neared she was clearly distraught. He explained to me the panic in the home, the violence of the situation and that he didn't know if his brother would be arrested. After I spoke with him, he and the woman wandered south on Oleander...


A man in shock stands next to a distraught woman right before I interview him


The media were on the east and west ends of the street




A family in shock





I then rushed home and uploaded a quick story onto this site and bakotopia.com. The images were trapped in cyberspace until late this evening.


What is he searching for near the roof of a house?

Tonight I went back to the scene to see lights had been set up in the street. Matildakay brought her camera but waited in her car while I walked down Maple Street. Fire engines, police vehicles lined the street while groups of law enforcement stood in nearby yards. A ladder from a large fire engine stretched to the house. What were they searching for? And why did they need a ladder? One firemen stood on the ladder and looked like a shadow amongst the trees. He shined a flashlight in my direction, after which I snapped a photo of his silhouette.







As I walked away, a news van drove onto Maple Street. The driver stared down the road and eventually turned around and drove off...

*Note: an early story claiming one child died was taken offline by the local paper. Another story appeared at a new web location. And suddenly at 11:56 PM, around 10 bottle rockets started going off on Forrest St., nearby to the Maple St. location of the explosion. Was that meant to rattle the cops, the families, or...?

Did two kids just die in an explosion on Maple Street? - By N.L. Belardes

5:20PM (images on the way)

I live one street over from an apparent explosion on Maple Street in the Oleander area in which several kids were hurt. Several of us entered the scene to see ambulances and fire engines on Maple Street. Two ambulances wheeled out in a hurry onto Oleander, while a man in a white T-shirt searched for his brother, a man allegedly in the house during the explosion…

“I can’t find my brother,” he said. “He was in the house during the explosion. I don’t know what he’s going to do or if they’re going to arrest him… one of the kids threw a round into a pit. There was shrapnel everywhere. I think it must have been a forty. Two of the kids died. One of them was a girl who died. She was hit in the chest. Some of the ages were 9 and 11…I have to go find my brother.”

Was what he said accurate? I don’t know. Details haven’t fully emerged.

I talked briefly with Felix Adamo of the local newspaper, who asked questions of the nearby media in the area… he indicated that he didn’t hear about anyone dying. I told him about the guy in the white T-shirt. “Thanks for the tip,” he said.

As we left the scene, three girls headed up the street, one wearing a red shirt with the words “R.I.P Eric Vick” scrawled in black ink.

A Writer in Yosemite, Part Eight: Photo Essay 2 - By N.L. Belardes

In the workshop, Writing the region: travel writing and beyond, I listened to Malcolm Margolin talk about a travel narrative created in the likeness of old Japanese journey scrolls/. "You won't find them at Barnes & Noble," he said.


The pirate of Heyday listens to his colleagues talk about travel writing


Malcolm reads about room 239


Matildakay is awarded a scholarship certificate for the Mary Wong Lee Memorial Scholarship


As Enrique Fuentes, Queen of the Downtown Fur would say: "Show it off because you can!"


Roxene Lee and Karene Conlin take a picture with their award recipient, Matildakay


Concerto anyone?


Connie Fulmer wins the Yosemite Writers Conference Novel Contest


A touching moment, I was overwhelmed with joy just standing nearby


THE SWAMI who wrote Love on a Rotten Day and Born on a Rotten Day


Night fire...


Sheree Petree works magic... wala!


Cindy Wathen watches her husband jam to the Beatles






T. Jefferson Parker signs his new book, The Fallen


As the Keynote speaker, T. Jefferson Parker told an incredible tale of how he was discovered... too much to tell in this brief photo essay. Let's just say he sold a book on a napkin...




T. Jefferson Parker and Cindy Wathen...




Musician/novelist Christopher Allen Poe and... oops, what is her name? Christopher, help...


At the end of the conference there was still time to chill and talk books
*Carole Sargent is pictured here with Matildakay (facing camera)...

Matildakay reports:

A great literary weekend
What's your type?
The Mary Wong Lee Memorial Scholarship
Malcolm Margolin is Posh
Hanging out with the Pirates of Yosemite and setting the record straight
Kill Your Darlings

N.L. on Paperback Writer reports:

A Writer in Yosemite: Part One
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Two
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Three
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Four
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Five
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Six
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Seven
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Eight

A Writer in Yosemite, Part Seven: A Pirate's Life for Me?

Pirates peer at a scalawag's blog...

You might ask, “What’s it like being a literary pirate?” To some folks I’m just a blogger with a big spoon, stirring as I make my way across the golden Tules and foggy valley grasslands. To others maybe I’m more of a swashbuckling pirate of literary shenanigans, lopping off suspenders and watching drawers comically drop around ankles as I go.

After all, it was Malcolm who looked at me, red wine swishing around the very whites of his eyeballs, and said, “My reputation is in your hands…”



Come now, pirates are entertainers, and we all entertained so well at the Yosemite Writers Conference. There we were: writers, bloggers, a web developer for literary web sites, novelists, a literary consultant, and even a renowned California publisher legend in Malcolm Margolin—a pirate in a commercial sea, yet so loved that even his vessel was allowed to dock in Yosemite. I think his boat was allowed so that a strange pirate beggar like myself could Jolly Roger my way, waving alongside, and happily thumb my nose at the very sleek cruise ship of publishing, that I, well… want to publish the likes of me.

But forget about all that. When you’re with pirates, you practically forget your own name. It’s like when a fight’s about to break out in a schoolyard. Doesn’t matter that everyone has someplace better to go. Everyone sticks around to watch the pummeling of the combatants and then gives their two cents: “Dude, I would have raked her head over the asphalt, then tied her hair to her shoelaces…” Admit it, you once gawked.

(I’m telling you, if I grew up in Central Valley farmland like chingpea, I would have stayed for the animal bloodlust too).

Those of us at the pirate table were very into the conversation. Matildakay got called a Goth. I drew swords against a writer who politely sidestepped. And then there was the big Berkeley pirate battle that rocked our ship of rebel-hearted fools. Malcolm sat across from a rapscallion named Laurie—she was dept at lawyer-speak—and in a moment of cleansing her life from literary rejection, launched into an anti-Berkeley tirade that had even the polite Malcolm raising his voice. Two literary agents sitting at the next table seemed to enjoy the fracas as voices raised to the point that nearby redcoats almost made the entire table walk the plank.


A pirate battle begins... notice the agents in the background


No, not an imitation of a famous painting, but hands in finger-pointing stances


More pirates and Cinema of the Lords on the puter... are you a filmmaker?


The true mystery of room 239 surrounded this plate of cheese

And then the next day, for a few moments I had to turn off the pirate swagger. Gone was my argumentative nature and pirate flag waiving; gone was my thought that I was a great American novelist wrapped in a world where I might see success. I was now just another writer in a crowd of a million writers, and I was checking in with a couple of literary agents to see if my work had enough gusto to interest the commercial world of publishing.

My first meeting was with Irene Webb, one of the most prominent film representation and literary agents in her field. I entered a room with small tables. The room itself seemed a bit stale. I don’t know, what was I expecting, flowers?


A volunteer in the pitch room


Erin Hosier and Irene Webb: two cattlemen rounding up the literary herd

Agents sat talking to prospects while a volunteer organized schedules. I caught a glimpse of Erin Hosier of The Gernert Company and Irene Webb talking and soon made my way to an outside table. Next to the table sat Bonnie Hearn Hill talking with a novelist who I think writes Christian romance stories (I might be wrong on that one). As Irene walked up Bonnie said, “You’ll like Irene, she’s very nice.”

Irene smiled while I just tried to break the tension. “Bonnie winked,” I said.

I sat down and pulled out a stack of thirteen ideas, some finished, some not. “Some of these ideas are OK,” Irene said. Is that good? After we talked for a few minutes she asked which stories I thought were most important.

“That’s a tough question,” I admitted. Aren’t they all? Oh man… That put me on the spot. Eventually we discussed some books I thought were important.


Irene Webb ponders my stories...

“Send me a few chapters,” she said. Was this a good sign? Does this mean she was interested? She must be or she wouldn’t have asked, right? Later, Cindy Wathen said, “Nick, you need to be more positive.”

Gulp. She’s right.

My next meeting was with Erin Hosier. Erin is interesting to look at and to speak with. She’s a bit dark in dress, though fashionably so. She’s hip. She likes quirky, decidedly dark fiction. I write decidedly dark fiction, I told myself 150 times before sitting at her table. Go figure; I never actually said out loud to her that I write decidedly dark fiction.



What I did talk about was my Paperback Writer blog, my novels, and about one of my novels that really grabbed her attention. “Send me a few chapters,” she said.

I got up from the table, shook her hand, snapped another photo, mumbled it was sexy and made my way out into the Tenaya Lodge hallway, wondering if I had just made headway in my literary career. She did say to send a few chapters, right?


Erin Hosier ponders our brief meeting...

In fact, that’s that Malcolm ended up telling me about one of my books. “Send me a few chapters,” he said.

The pirate consultant ended up saying, “I’m passing this book onto an editor who I know… after I finish reading it…”

So that was good too. Four opportunities. Four leads. Four doorways. Four windows. And it’s all because I never give up on my dreams and goals no matter what people have said to me. Sure, pirates have dreams, just sometimes rebellious ones. Doesn’t make us bad people, just maybe indicates to others that we don’t bathe enough.

Driving home from the conference I kept rethinking the weekend. Was every writer from the conference rethinking the weekend? What could I have said differently? How could I have better spoken with agents and writers about who I am and what I write about? As I passed endless farmland and a strange golden grass-covered area, I swore I could hear Malcolm’s voice saying over and over, “My reputation is in your hands…” while I imagined red wine and goldfish still swishing around the very whites of his eyeballs.

Matildakay reports:

A great literary weekend
What's your type?
The Mary Wong Lee Memorial Scholarship
Malcolm Margolin is Posh
Hanging out with the Pirates of Yosemite and setting the record straight
Kill Your Darlings

N.L. on Paperback Writer reports:

A Writer in Yosemite: Part One
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Two
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Three
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Four
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Five
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Six
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Seven
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Eight

A Writer in Yosemite, Part Six: Photo Essay 1 - By N.L. Belardes

The Yosemite Writers Conference was filled with interesting faces, committed writers, instant friendships and more... here are a few images from part one of my photo essay:


Heyday Books had a table at the event. I've read Blithe Tomato. I'll start the Filipino memoir, Oracles within a few days.


Malcolm Margolin of Heyday Books sets up a table with some of his company's finest literature, history, memoirs and more...


Master of Ceremonies talks to THE SWAMI (Hazel Dixon-Cooper).


Delicious morning fruit energized me each morning at Tenaya Lodge


Bonnie Hearn Hill's book If It Bleeds...


A crowd of writers readies for the conference workshops and panels


Executive Director Cindy Wathen


The first panel of the conference: (Right to Left) Kristen Godsey, Andrea "The Bulldog" Brown, Doris Booth, Anne Hawkins and Stacey Barney


Be afraid. Be very afraid...


Kristin Godsey caught deep in thought


Novelist Connie L. Fulmer was a pleasant voice to greet throughout the weekend. She had a great victory at the conference for a novel she wrote...


Scholarship winner Matildakay at Jackalopes...


A high-powered lunch with Bonnie Hearn Hill (far left) and her agent Laura Dail...


Literary Agent Irene Webb gave one of the most informative and interesting speeches of the day as she spoke on writing for Hollywood. Her anecdotes kept the class amused, on the edge of their seats, and informed as to Hollywood writer realities...


Bonnie Hearn Hill is as witty and funny as a writer gets. She even gave me a hard time


In Bonnie's workshop on advanced writing tips


A writer next to me takes notes...


Stinky feet? I promised not to tell...


CAUGHT SLEEPING!!!


Malcolm Margolin of Heyday Books at the pavilion...


Cindy Wathen and Malcolm Margolin make small talk as only a writer and such an intriguing man of the world could...


Christopher Allen Poe reads an excerpt from his novel. He's also in the band, Insect out of Sacramento.

Matildakay reports:

A great literary weekend
What's your type?
The Mary Wong Lee Memorial Scholarship
Malcolm Margolin is Posh
Hanging out with the Pirates of Yosemite and setting the record straight
Kill Your Darlings

N.L. on Paperback Writer reports:

A Writer in Yosemite: Part One
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Two
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Three
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Four
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Five
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Six
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Seven
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Eight

A Writer in Yosemite, Part Five: The Attack of the Literary Agent - By N.L. Belardes

There’s a woman who works in the corporate world who I call a bulldog. She’s territorial. She doesn’t piss on herself, but she would on you if you crossed her. She’s got a thick invisible chain on her neck that makes her resemble some kind of metaphoric West Coast rapper who would pull a semi-automatic pistol just for you having food on the corner of your mouth. She’s that tough.

Of course I’ve never actually met a literary agent before, but I did try to corner one today who reminded me of the corporate bulldog. Ironically she also reminded me of my Mexican grandmother who used to wear leopard print jumpsuits, big blonde wigs, but who cooked the meanest homemade tortillas in San Jose, California. Only my grandma would invite you in for food. Not the literary agent. She would gobble all the food for herself and had a bite that would have left teeth marks in my ego if it weren’t for my humorous take on the entire dreaded affair. “Your titles are horrible! And you don’t get the age group you’re writing for!”

Ouch. Maybe I needed that. Here, take my leg too...

I wanted to get defensive. I might have been a little snooty. I can’t remember. But that’s what I get for cornering a bulldog. You never know. She may have been hungry. She might have needed to use the bathroom. I always used to tell myself about the corporate bulldog that if I brought little presents it would be like scratching her chin, stroking her scruff… She liked lottery tickets. But what did I have to give the literary agent? Four sheets of paper? Four proposals meant for minds sucked into the zaniness of Cartoon Network… stories meant for kids who sit sucked into Spongebob and who could turn off the boob tube and peer into the literary landscape of Harry Potter. A surefire mix.

Or maybe not. It wasn't like I had more than ten seconds with the bulldog. Do you realize how many bitemarks you can get in such a short amount of time??

Although I had good consultations with two literary agents today, I have to say that I was looking at the conference as the Haves and the Have Nots. Getting noticed in the literary world in part is an interesting competitive game. Elevator speeches are a must, and bulldog mentality sometimes comes out in a toughness because literary agents are salespersons. It’s very much about money and what’s hot for the Haves who often don’t want from the Have Nots…

Did I learn anything? Sure. I learned that it’s good to go through the ropes, that an attack makes you a better person (As long as you can still spawn children afterwards); and that when all is said and done, you can still be yourself, go sit at a pirate table, hoist a flag and tell stories.

Storytelling is beautiful when you’re sitting with Malcolm Margolin. He’s known some of the most wondrous characters who have stepped from pristine art, experimental and reknowned literature and culture into his life. I learned more about myself and my interests from such vigorous storytelling: a World War Two Japanese man who saw on radar the plane headed for Hiroshima and tried to warn his fellow countrymen, an artist who painted birds who once courted a baby owl that was carved up and eaten, and magical artists from India who traveled America and wondered about local products and culture. We sat and spoke about our common yet uncommon pasts. Each of us at the table escaped estranged childhoods yet cling onto our cultural upbringing as a means to uphold an essence of self and humanity.

Sure, there was a literary agent attack… but there was healing as well, and there was storytelling that surpassed the drooling jowls of the publishing industry.

Matildakay reports:

A great literary weekend
What's your type?
The Mary Wong Lee Memorial Scholarship
Malcolm Margolin is Posh
Hanging out with the Pirates of Yosemite and setting the record straight
Kill Your Darlings

N.L. on Paperback Writer reports:

A Writer in Yosemite: Part One
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Two
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Three
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Four
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Five
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Six
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Seven
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Eight

A Writer in Yosemite, Part Four: Writers and blogging - By N.L. Belardes

When Kassia Krozner, Genevieve Choate, and Erin Hosier talked about blogs at the Yosemite Writers Conference I was reminded that many writers just aren't on blogs. Why not? I have no idea... maybe it's age? Lack of marketing know-how? Or preconceived notions as to what blogs and myspace are... Hey, if you're a writer, just get started... Here's a snippet of the conversation...


KK: …the more words you put out there, the people are going to find you. I’m a huge fan of focus blogging. Forget about cheese sandwich blogs. Those get into the minutia of everyday life. A focused blog is a blog on your area of expertise. …area of expertise is critical. You want to set yourself apart from the crowd. It’s ultimately about what you want to read about… voice gets you coming back.

GC: It best to post often and consistently. They’ll also be higher up the list if you blog everyday. Use headlines. Those are the #1 search criteria. People find blogs mostly by search.

KK: I blog everyday. I tend to write for multiple sites. I write for booksquare maybe 3-4 times a week. I practiced for a month before I went live. An abandoned blog is worse than no blog at all (Check out Confessions of an idiosyncratic mind on crime, fiction and more for a good example on a writing blog).

Q: Should I write about nursing or writing?

EH: Definitely about nursing. Let your anecdotes about nursing make your writing shine. I have a client who blogs about New York taxi driving titled New York Hack. Hundreds of thousands of people go to her site…

KK: You start building your expertise online. No matter your profession. That’s how you start doing it.

GC: You have to have thick skin. How personal is it? Do you want the whole world to know? Search engines cache everything even if you take the information offline. You might post photos for the whole world to see but you don’t know who is looking or their intentions… you can go in, read what other people are doing and decide on a focus. If you don’t like it, start over. And start reading other blogs too… If you find something interesting on a blog, leave a comment and a url back to your blog.

KK: Is it safe to use your email and url?

GC: It’s great information about you… they may link to you in the future…

KK: You need to participate in what’s called your back blog… if someone leaves a comment and asks a question, you need to answer them.

EH: I encourage all my writers to use myspace.com to promote their work. Is it gross to promote your product on myspace? People know that’s why you’re there. They’re looking for product… everything has a myspace page now… if people feel like their your friend hopefully they will go out and buy your book… if a book has been published you don’t want to give the cow away for free but you can promote…

GC: Trolls get you upset, offtrack, and do everything they can to get you flustered. If you’re using blogging software, you can use moderating software and block them out. I think if they’re calling me out it reflects on them. Hijacking is when someone comes in and talks about something different than the conversation and talk about a different thread. There are paid blogging positions out there. Some pay for posts…

KK: Some people get paid for their personal blogs like on Gawker.com. Blogging is a job for a lot of us.

GC: We have folks who use the staff blogs on the Bee. Some of the folks get published in print.

Q: What kind of blogs might an agent read?

EH: I read six blogs faithfully, things I am really interested in. Entertainment gossip or fashion. I’m looking for a fresh voice. It’s important to me personally that I don’t just write a rehashing a blog. I would want a fresh manuscript on a subject…

Matildakay reports:

A great literary weekend
What's your type?
The Mary Wong Lee Memorial Scholarship
Malcolm Margolin is Posh
Hanging out with the Pirates of Yosemite and setting the record straight
Kill Your Darlings

N.L. on Paperback Writer reports:

A Writer in Yosemite: Part One
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Two
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Three
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Four
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Five
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Six
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Seven
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Eight

A Writer in Yosemite, Part Three: Bonnie Hearn Hill panel talks point of view in fiction - By N.L. Belardes

Yesterday I walked in on Bonnie Hearn Hill as she talked fiction with a class. The energy was high and the laughter just as fun. She gave me a hard time and I was a bit bashful as I wandered to the front of the class, only because I didn’t want to steal Bonnie’s thunder… just kidding. She took off her shoes, kicked back and talked about advanced fiction writing tips…

I promised I wouldn’t write about “angry nipples”, so onto today’s workshop on ‘Point of View in Fiction’ as I attempt to blog as the panel speaks: Bonnie Hearn Hill, Irene Webb, Jeff Parker, and Andrea Brown…

BHH: It’s about whose voice you’re in and how the scene is focused. It’s how you see the story through a visceral camera. We all look at this room in a different way through our eyes… What POV does the panel prefer to write or sell?

IW: I love a really good first person narrative. I think it comes from my childhood… books about girls telling their story… generally speaking my favorite aren’t in the first person… suspense actiony…straight ahead storytelling.

JP: POV is real interesting and relevant to voice and storytelling. I really have to know the tone and atmosphere before starting a book. Sometimes I try a journalistic approach, and then maybe change to a first person…I’ll see how that feels… then after experimentation you know which one is best because it just feels right… it’s like a shoe and you go, “Yeah, this is it.” A third person you see what happens in a character they don’t see in themselves… a good work of fiction is very flexible and can have competing levels…

BHH: POV ping pong is not omniscient... When I read California Girl it starts in first person and then went on from other points of view… how did you do that?

JP: California Girls is structured now then, now, forward plot. The hardest part was to make the decisive lead clear… I led each chapter with a year to make it clear.

AB: I don’t believe in writer’s block… means you’re writing the wrong thing… try something else. Never tell anyone you have writer’s block. Makes you sound unprofessional.

BHH: How many POV for a first time writer?

IW: When picking up a manuscript by an unknown writer… if POV changes and verb tense changes, that’s a disaster. Simplicity is the best approach. What you want is the person to read your material, fall in love with the characters… if you’re trying to impress, you won’t get any of those things…

BHH: Sometimes best-selling authors see someone like Jeff Parker who does multiple POV very well… they learn a lesson publicly if they can’t do it… stick to one until you’re really comfortable.

JP: …if you’re doing it right you’re readers won’t notice it… if by page 300 they still haven’t figured out your POV, then you’re successful.

IW: I feel in adult literary fiction of any kind, first person makes it feel kind of small… like it’s a little story… doesn’t feel like it’s going to be a best seller. It’s the exception if it’s a first person novel that everyone’s talking about.

AB: You’re limited in first person. Think about a 500 page novel in first person. It’s limiting. Why not want to give yourself as much freedom as possible?

BHH: I think new writers are just looking for their voice when using first person… get your stride… get your voice… I personally could not write a whole book in first person. I would bore myself silly…

AB: Writers guide to crafting stories for children by Nancy Lamb… a great book for POV. Perspective of a story and the way a story is expressed…

BHH: Most books define but don’t tell you how to do a POV. Just knowing what those terms are isn’t enough…

If you want more info, there’s a CD of the entire Yosemite Writers Conference that will be available…

Matildakay reports:

A great literary weekend
What's your type?
The Mary Wong Lee Memorial Scholarship
Malcolm Margolin is Posh
Hanging out with the Pirates of Yosemite and setting the record straight
Kill Your Darlings

N.L. on Paperback Writer reports:

A Writer in Yosemite: Part One
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Two
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Three
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Four
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Five
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Six
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Seven
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Eight

A Writer in Yosemite, Part Two: The Pirate Table and Room 239 - By N.L. Belardes

"We're all writers who started off not believing in ourselves... our reward is seeing you bloom," said Cindy Wathen, one of the major organizers of the Yosemite Writers Conference.

We sat in a room called Salon 1 and while she spoke I reflected on a morning of interesting conversations. I gave Malcolm a copy of Lords, which embarrassed, he made me sign for him. After all, I had to give the publisher of Heyday Books a copy of the very book that had been rejected. Malcolm had set up a Heyday Books booth. He tossed me the book, Oracles, by Pati Navalta Poblete in exchange for my scandalous romp through Bakersfield's decrepit past. Oracles is not officially released and is a memoir about a young Americanized Filipino girl suddenly faced with four grandparents who arrive from the Philippines. Can you imagine the love and the pain? Oh yeah... chingpea will surely have a comment...

Who knows, maybe I can give Malcolm nightmares like I have a few of the folks who've written to me about the creepy Yokut ghost in my work... and then there's the chick lit writer C. L. who phoned me one day to say, "Your book ruined my sex life."

Now that's success!

"Do you have a photographic memory?" Malcolm said.

"It takes fuzzy pictures sometimes."

"I hear more about you than I do my own children."

Malcolm and I then talked about an arts collective and models that might work for Bakersfield and about cross promoting Heyday Books with Noveltown. "Noveltown doesn't have a catalog of books. If we had an arts collective/bookstore, whose books do you think I would be pushing hard in the valley...?" Heyday of course.

And so on went that conversation.

In the Salon 1 room I wasn't getting my hair done, though I did feel like I got my attitude rearranged, nipped and tucked by the tough literary panel of Kristen Godsey, Andrea Brown, Doris Booth, Anne Hawkins, and Stacey Barney. Sure, they were all funny. But they were intimidating as well. Some of my favorite lines were: "Don't pitch me in the bathroom," "I don't care if you pitch me in the bathroom," "Work on a two-line Hollywood pitch," and "Don't stalk."

Stalk? These high-powered ladies must have had some interesting experiences with serial killa writers circling them like vultures. I instantly felt like some kind of vulture in a cartoon landscape, but I didn't mind. I like cartoons, and the metaphor seemed fitting. I think every writer in the room suddenly looked shifty-eyed at each another, unwilling to admit their own plotting. The rest tucked their tails between their legs.

Later I heard Irene Webb talk about agents: "The most important thing is to have an idea and to convey it... Some of the most famous books ever were found in a slush pile... and if it captures us, we'll keep reading. If it doesn't, it's over."

Over? ouch... Like over over?

Bonnie Hearn Hill later chimed in about the agent from hell she once had (Sadly enough, THE SWAMI once had an agent from Pluto... and don't forget folks, that's just a micro-planet now). "The agent from hell never edited for me... and we had to do an intervention to get Hazel to get rid of her agent." What's the deal with bad agents? If you have a good one, that's a healthy marriage. If not, someone will be sleeping in the doghouse...

Irene Webb, who I have a meeting with today (gulp) said to a group about writing for Hollywood, "I had dinner with Mel Gibson and he didn't get drunk... and Placido Domingo was there..."

Webb talked about how screenwriters have barely a chance to make it unless they're in Hollywood, or tapped into a network of filmmakers at a film school. I think that's what's great about the Bakersfield Renaissance. Film, art, theatre, writers fuse with the media to promote and create...

But will that get any of us anywhere? Sure, just ask Hectic Films. These guys take creating short films seriously. And Bakersfield is in Hollywood's Backyard after all... we're all amateurs until we suddenly get better, and near our goals...

"Hollywood wants what is going to be fresh and original. You have to literally see the billboard, have scenes ready for trailers, and roles for male motion picture stars..." Webb said.

Was Irene planting seeds of thought? Is that reality: male dominated Hollywood movies, or is that just what she can sell the best? I swear I just saw the Devil Wears Prada... But then Irene knows her stuff. She has brought more than 150 books to film, and sold the rights to 1500-2000 others. Her credentials include: Witches of Eastwick, Patriot Games, Clear and Present Danger, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, Friday Night Lights, Men in Black (at the time she wanted to make her two-year-old happy).

In the end, Irene said about screenwriters, "It's really up to you writers to come up with what's new and fresh that's in the zeitgeist..."

If you move to Hollywood that is.

Thank goodness I just write cheesy novels that get rejected and end back up in the publisher's hands who rejected them. Just kidding, Malcolm. I think he knows I like to give people shit. He later said at the pirate table about a mutual strange and loveable friend we had, "Don Ackland was brilliant. He would wear a suit everywhere he went. He knew a bit of everything. He was the most in touch and the most out of touch character you could ever meet..."

Oh, the pirate table? That came later in the evening in a bout of typical artistic rebelliousness. Carole Sargent from Georgetown University hoisted a pirate flag and guerrilla marketed a meeting of rebellious minds in a secretive pirate society invite which read, "Pub Q&A tonight, 6pm, Jackalopes, by the fireplace."

What's this? pirates?

Publisher Malcom Margolin was there looking like a swashbuckling pirate with his swashy beard, hairs bristling from his chin and face like bolts of rebellious lightning electrifying those around him. Zap! Matildakay donned a hat as did a lawyer with a devious set of eyes and blistering manner of verbal attack that infected the group. They both love Johnny Depp and seemed to spout a few "Argggs" out of the corners of their mouth about Ichabod Crane; not a pirate, but piratey I should add. A tech writer, marketing girl, and web developer were also onboard. They clinked their glasses and all took part in the seaworthy pirate table. As for me. I know I'm a pirate. Don't have to ask me twice to be a fly on the wall. I manned the guns.

And that's when the debates started. Fingers pointed, wine poured, grimaces were made, cheers went all around, and just like any group of pirates, we couldn't even agree on our own shadows, let alone a plan of attack. We spoke highly of treasure and treasure maps. We talked loudly, drew swords (at each other) and merrily hugged that perhaps our voyage would get us equal plunder, except for that mad captain Margolin who admitted, "I live in my own world because of the world I created around me." Damn pirate. I hate those kind. He's as lost as a castaway with a fully stocked bar, coconuts galore and island babes on each arm.

Maybe that's the worst kind of pirate...

The rest of us were hell bent on not being shipwrecked. Carol lent us a few maps even. After a while the group began talking of hair-raising literary schemes. Some of us moved to another table while the lawyer and Malcolm aimed pistols at one another, screaming, "You're no pirate, ah ya scalawag curmudgeon! It'll be off with yer barnacle intellect if I have me way!" And so on. They were drunk.

At the secondary pirate table we talked Noveltown, Lords, and Arthur Chilling... all fine topics for pirates.

And then the mystery of room 239...

What's this? An invasion? mystery? Intrigue? More plotting? The entire Tenaya Lodge suddenly seemed like a great vessel we'd just stormed. And our march up to the very poopdeack seemed to tip the very vessel.

Or was that just the wine?

Matildakay reports:

A great literary weekend
What's your type?
The Mary Wong Lee Memorial Scholarship
Malcolm Margolin is Posh
Hanging out with the Pirates of Yosemite and setting the record straight
Kill Your Darlings

N.L. on Paperback Writer reports:

A Writer in Yosemite: Part One
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Two
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Three
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Four
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Five
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Six
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Seven
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Eight

A Writer in Yosemite, Part One: Malcolm Margolin prepares for speech at Yosemite Writers Conference - By N.L. Belardes

The drive to Yosemite's gateway was uneventful, except for the samurai guys in the white van who seemed to be following myself and Matildakay. We passed the dirty white van down the bumpy 99. I looked in the rearview mirror and these samurai jokers just seemed like they were off to some wicked Central Valley farmland to practice their warrior moves... eventually we lost them as we made a pit stop in Tulare for some Calvin Klein shopping moments (don't ask).

In a mysterious set of circumstances, Matildakay and I went through our usual ritual where we each said, "Where do you want to go to eat?" We almost went to a Japanese restaurant, almost stepped into a Chinese joint, and thought about some country kitchen before wandering into The Velvet Rose, a second story Italian restaurant in Oakhurst filled with paintings of roses.

As soon as we sat down I noticed the publisher of Heyday Books, Malcolm Margolin sitting by himself next to a wall covered with eleven paintings of roses. In the middle of the wall were two fake doors. Above those hung dried roses all wired together in a beautiful banner. Malcolm wore a light blue shirt that contrasted with the mauve of a painting near his head. His grey beard, twisted and wiry, stood out like a beacon, while his glasses gave off a faint sparkle, a telling moment that he was in deep thought.

I wandered over anyways and said a hello. He mentioned he was writing a speech for the following day. "I wanted to get away, so I came here to think about a speech I'm supposed to give tomorrow. Do you know about the Book Fair in Bakersfield?"

"A book fair in Bakersfield?"

"It's in November..."

What a strange a beautiful place--deep in thought near to a wall of rose paintings that seemed as still in their paintings as he seemed sitting in his chair before I headed over. Eventually he passed by our table and greeted Matildakay. He remembered her from the Great Valley Books Writers' Conference in Merced. I invited him to sit, but he wasn't nearly done with his speech and so begged off and disappeared carrying a notepad with plenty of scribbles that certainly needed rearranging...

Matildakay reports:

A great literary weekend
What's your type?
The Mary Wong Lee Memorial Scholarship
Malcolm Margolin is Posh
Hanging out with the Pirates of Yosemite and setting the record straight
Kill Your Darlings

N.L. on Paperback Writer reports:

A Writer in Yosemite: Part One
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Two
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Three
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Four
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Five
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Six
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Seven
A Writer in Yosemite: Part Eight

Bonnie Hearn Hill’s ‘If It Bleeds’ is second book to hit bookstores in less than a year on scandalous Central Valley newspapers - By N.L. Belardes

The new blood-and-guts companion to books about newspaper
corruption in conservative Central, California...


Lords of the corrupt Central Valley publishers?


The San Joaquin Valley in Central and Northern California—also known as the Great Central Valley. How great is such a valley with nearly a dozen river systems feeding its soil-rich farmland? The hydraulic society of the world’s hydraulic societies, an artificially controlled hydrological network of agricultural landscapes with canals and rivers, with some that can reverse flow, and a giant aquafier in the Kern Water Bank neatly tucked away in the Kern River Alluvial deposit, not to mention oil rivers below ground in crisscrossing streams that feed America’s hunger for petroleum-based products. It’s the literal land of milk and honey, with golden grasslands to prove, right?

Don’t forget I used the word, ‘artificial’. Such a landscape is man-made, built with millions of dollars of hybridized agriculture and mechanical waterworks, and controlled by corporate landscapes as tricky and complex as reversing the flow of metric tons of H2O. Don’t forget the Kern Water Bank can hold one million cubic feet of water—that’s the largest in the world—no wonder it’s a bank many moguls would like to crack. The water and oil that flows in the valley are the valley’s liquid diamonds, with agriculture just as wealthy and sparkling on the vine.

The cities and the towns of the Central Valley boast all-American status, and can be as quaint as a roadside fruit stand surrounded by grape vineyards—the very places where the Central Valley breadbasket meets its highway roots, the very places where bodies are sometimes left for farmworkers to stumble across.

A discovered body could lead to a big news story. And a big news story in the Central Valley tied to a body found in agriculture fields could lead to who-knows-where—a bleeding front page news story perhaps? When working in a newsroom there might even be an axiom to live by—for journalists that is. They might say, “If it bleeds, it leads.” Maybe such an axiom just depends on the mantra a particular newspaper wants to exercise; maybe that’s just a way to say gruesome stories are always at the top of the news in the Central Valley: a landscape of many socialites with deep pockets, some of who have been tied to a murderous past.

Sure, there is my book Lords: Part One based on the ‘Lords of Bakersfield’ news stories about a citywide conspiracy of murder and newspaper corruption. A fictional newspaper called the Tule Reader harbors a publisher with a mind-controlling agenda over his fundamentalist readers so despicable that corrupt lawmakers and city officials would lead hidden gay lives that preyed on the hopeless. A local Bakersfield theatre director would tell me after reading the book, “Even though it would make a good movie, no one will make a movie about it. It won’t sell because it’s about Bakersfield.” Oh it wouldn’t? No one wants to read about the land of Buck Owens, Korn, and newspaper conspiracies? Then why did such dark news stories get picked up even by the Main Stream Media (MSM) in 2003? Popular stories breed in the public consciousness. They make for good movies that society can relate to. And just maybe such a brooding work about Central Valley newspaper corruption isn’t alone…

September 1st marks the mass market paperback release by Mira Books of Bonnie Hearn Hill’s newsroom thriller, If It Bleeds, a book loosely based on Central Valley happenings within the corrupt side of the newspaper biz. Echoes of Santa Barbara newspaper scandal ringing in your ears? (Not to mention the local Bakersfield Californian plagiarism scandal last year that I can't find on their new website. Click for dead links. Now why would the news suppress the news about their own scandal?). Read Hearn Hill’s fictional account of newspaper drama as it unfolds in conservative Central California city life. Follow investigative reporter Corina Vasquez as she explores murder and intrigue surrounding her own Valley Voice newspaper. Will she find the killer of the city’s mayor? Does the plot deepen to a wider conspiracy regarding the city’s corporate elite, rich builders and some rather stereotypical conservative bigots?

Brutal murders, big headlines and a conspiracy as deep as the plot of Lords: Part One? Yes, of course. If It Bleeds is definitely a collector’s item for people wanting books not just by Central Valley writers, but about the conspiracies of the Central Valley. There’s a lot of truth in such fiction. Who would have thought that two books about Central Valley newspaper media machines would hit bookstores less than a year apart?

And Hearn Hill is no newspaper slouch. She’s a self-made insider of the newspaper game who worked for the Fresno Bee for more than two decades. I’m thinking she may have seen her share of murder stories, interdepartmental newspaper shenanigans and newspaper scandal. There just has to be a tie-in to If It Bleeds. A big “no comment” from her on the topic. Writers tend to resolve their own distant past. As she said in a recent interview with me, “Fiction is the lie that tells a truth.” So she tells it. Her truth-telling is just woven with some good storytelling is all.

If It Bleeds storms its way into the world of psychological thrillers and leaves readers wondering just what their newspapers are up to behind closed doors and brick walls. In part one of the trilogy, Bonnie Hearn Hill takes sentences filled with narrative sarcasm, a healthy dose of mostly hidden novelist agenda, and spins a fiction about secret newspaper power trips, sexual corporate escapades, thrilling intrigue, and sprinkles her work with a journalist bent on a mission not to necessarily do good, but to find the truth no matter the cost. Hearn Hill’s ability to squeeze every last drop of plot and structure is why her novel works.

There’s no doubt, If It Bleeds is the blood-and-guts companion to Lords: Part One. If you own one, you need the other. Get If It Bleeds September 1st on Amazon. September 2nd, get your book signed in The Big “No” Barnes and Noble (Fresno).

(*If you're in Bakersfield, pre-order from Russo's Books)
Read more about Hearn Hill’s trilogy and If It Bleeds
And her purple gloves get interviewed by Authorlink
Bonnie Hearn Hill Official Site
Get If It Bleeds on Amazon. Pre-order for September 1st delivery
Try my novel for size if you want more on Central Valley newspaper corruption
Coming soon: a review of another valley writer: THE SWAMI…

Bakersfield, art as it should be - By N.L. Belardes

Now we're talking spin-off logo. Only took me ten minutes and didn't cost $65,000.

Imagine, no city folks twiddling their thumbs. Good golly!

If you want, you can get the real deal, including the 'Bakersfield, Life as it should be' gag gift coffee house blend here.

Otherwise, you'll have to wait for the T-shirts or spray-painted grafitti logo on your friendly neighborhood city and media buildings.

Maybe the broken paintbrush was a bit much.

Big thanks and a question about the idea of social critics - By N.L. Belardes

I can't begin to describe how nice Bryan Tebow of kerngamers.com was in donating his time Saturday to work the film and projection art portion of the Downtown Sculpture and Assemblage Show that Noveltown was a part of. He brought the laptop and projector (donated for the evening), and in the very hot basement, stayed for 7.5 hours. Les Paw from Fatt Katt and the Vonzippers donated his sound system for the projection art. And let me tell you, it was hot and heavy carrying that equipment down stairs.

Thanks for supporting the arts, guys.

Of course, there were some bumbles as well, one which I am really steamed about. I was basically not trusted and told not to write anything bad about the local paper as it might ruin it for local artists.

What the hell?

You tell someone something in confidence, and just because you're a writer, they tell you not to write your own opinion just because they don't like it.

Tell me if that isn't a little controlling. I don't tell artists how to paint their canvas. Just ask Hectic Films. "Skip" is their creation. And don't confuse themes with dictating or controlling art. If a theme is industrial-themed poetry, then stick to it...

Check out this post about blogging that I found just today on howardowens.com titled, "Who Let the Blogs Out? Legal Experts Offer Tips on Avoiding Trouble". There's an interesting bit in the article about the washingtonpost.com's blogs where they state in their blog rules, "We encourage users to analyze, comment on and even challenge washingtonpost.com's articles, blogs, reviews and multimedia features."

Wow, a major newspaper allowing blog criticism. And here we have someone telling me that as an artist I can't be a social critic if I felt like it?

And worried that I won't protect the integrity of local artists?

Ahh, but there is more... let me bring you all back up to date on Danielle Belton, former entertainment writer for the Bakersfield Californian. I criticized her and called for her to be fired. Why? Was it all my idea? No. She was being complained about by artists of the community for not reporting enough in 2005 on local arts: musicians, theatre folk, literary arts folks... but alas, let me tell you all right here and right now that I strategically took a fall for the art community. I know the local newspaper sometimes shuns those who cross its power. I'm not dumb. Certain people wouldn't be afraid if there weren't a truth to that statement. Now, if I would have gone out and taken quotes from all the local artists complaining about Danielle Belton, that might have ruined their chances of getting in print. And I wasn't out to ruin the art community. I was bent on being a social critic; and in that I wanted to prod the local media for not covering local arts.

So I took the heat, while protecting the artists. I was kicked out of the Californian's blog community and told it was because of my views against Belton. And I knew they would kick me out even after I was told they could take criticism, that they were now progressive and could accept criticism. Right. I remember saying, "I am going to criticize you. Are you sure you can take it?"

So why would I criticize the Californian now and ruin local artists chances of getting into the local paper? I'm not interested in breaking up friendships between media and artists. I would love to see local art coverage. But let me say this... if you criticize 'Bakersfield life as it should be' with all the corruption and bad air, and gangbanging, then why is the newspaper wearing an immunity idol?

Because artists want coverage.

Ask yourself if you're an artist and a social critic, or a selective social critic, afraid of media repercussions because of fear? Fear of what? Failure because the local paper won't write about you?

Is that the measure of your success?

I just spoke yesterday of starting an arts collective. But then, why would I do that if I am distrusted for being a social critic, something that the Washingtonpost.com encourages. Bakersfield art as it should be? A far cry.

Is August 22nd a doomsday joke? - By N.L. Belardes

Here's an interesting article on ABC News about tomorrow (August 22nd) being a symbolic day of reckoning for islamists. Hezbollah in America? Paranoid fluff? Airliners exploding over the star-spangled seas?

I don't think the problem is something accidentally happening. It's the freak fanatics who purposely control power and millions of lives who can turn people and machines into slaves for their end-of-the-world aims...

Read:

While no extra safeguards are in place, U.S. law enforcement are not ignoring the possible significance of tomorrow's date, August 22, a date that marks an important historic event on the Islamic calendar.

Internet websites have been full of speculation that it could be a target date for terrorists in commemoration of the return of the 12th imam, a supposed day of reckoning for Shiites.

August 22 was rumored by intelligence experts to be a possible date that the London plotters would blow-up passenger planes headed towards the United States, though it is not known if the suspects were Shiite extremists.

This year, August 22 marks the holy day on the Islamic calendar that is the day of reckoning for Shiites...

(read the full article on The Blotter)

Projection art, film, poetry and more at the Downtown Sculpture and Assemblage Show - By N.L. Belardes

“Your TV sculpture is falling…”

“I know. It’s an organic piece.”

“It’s going to fall.”

“I know. Cool, huh? Let it crash. I’m not worried. Kerngamers.com offered me five bucks for the whole mess.”

I arrive downstairs just in time to see the red-and-orange lights inside shimmer as the sculpture wobbles, snaps from the ceiling and smashes on the ground. Or should I say, plop on the ground. The sculpture is really light and airy.

Besides the art piece is more of a joke and was really meant to see if I could make a sculpture out of nothing. And to test lights. I wanted something I could do to test independent LED lights and lithium batteries for some other upcoming projects. They seem to work as soon I break into my own fallen “Drama TV” sculpture and take lights out. I put those lights on broken robot’s “pigmy beer tap” toxic drum sculpture. Why not others be organic?

Yeah, the lights work although most people who walk by my sculptures just sort of keep walking. They didn’t even really look. I don’t mind and giggle. I think many miss the hidden glowing joke and hide their own thoughts, like, “What the hell was this guy on when he was making this strange glowing beast thing?” Or something of that sort.

If any other artist would have created such a weird piece of art for the Downtown Sculpture and Assemblage Show there probably would have been hell to pay by the curator and Art Czar, A.S. Ashley. Nah. A.S. is a sculpture whore. If he saw a tumbleweed shaped like Mother Teresa, I have no doubt in my mind he would pluck it from the ground, put some random name on it and sell it as “Mother Nature Teresa Thorn”, and sell it for 500 clams.

Here’s my photo essay of the Downtown Sculpture and Assemblage Show by Bakersfield Art Rave. Round two will be next Saturday, 5pm-Midnight. There will be no round three. Show up and buy some art.


Picture of my fallen glowing art: "Drama TV" and "Geezbot".
Landen Belardes in background edited the Noveltown projection art entry


Noveltown projected poetry...


...and art in an industrial-themed collage


Watching projected poetry to industrial sounds


Broken Robot's hanging industrial art






"Geezbot" later got more organic as Hectic films and Kerngamers.com
ripped the babybot from its loins


It's maddening and intricate...


Ceramic fairytales


How to date men... find a big knife... and...


Sculpture abounds


Bug art of the creepy beautiful kind


Hectic Films mingles with the crowd as they plan a Zowietown film shoot


Hectic Films short killer flick, "Skip" made stomachs churn


Jason Sanders of Hectic Films captures a creep moment of
guests watching their film

Hectic Films sunglasses taken hostage - By N.L. Belardes

I'm thinking Rickey Bird of Hectic Films was so scared of his own slasher film that he bugged out of the projection art portion of the Downtown Sculpture and Assemblage Show without his cool shades.

I talked to him on the phone today and seriously said, "We've taken your sunglasses hostage."

"I didn't get any calls or anything," he laughed.

Oh no?

Here's your phone call, Rickey.

Now pay the ransom... before things get as slasher-like as your serial killa flickas...


We're dialin' your numba.


Who has the cool shades now?

Dual-ethnic thoughts at Narducci's Latin Cultural Revolution - By N.L. Belardes

Damas talks to artist Marisela Oropeza
Her Chicana art has rich themes of Feminine male imagery and music

There’s so much more culture and history I would learn in my own city of Bakersfield if I just understood more of the language of my own heritage. I listen to Latino radio here and there, dabble in the language, but I admit, I am far on the fringe of understanding Spanish. What I read about Latino culture must be in English. Exposure to language and big groups of people and Latino culture is like walking into a candy store without your senses turned on. I see images around me. But I don’t know what anything tastes or smells like. It’s a kind of cultural blindness and if forces me to be away from people as well (or them from me).

As a dual ethnic Chicano artist I don’t look like I’m Mexican-American at all. I can’t speak Spanish, though I understand a little and by looking at words I can somewhat tell what I’m reading if I have some time to sit and concentrate. I don’t really have friends, just acquaintances mostly, though many people read this website and think they know me. That’s wrong. Read my artwork, my novels, then you might start to know me. It’s like claiming you know Mento Buru without listening to their music.

“Oh yeah, I know them. They’re a band.”

Whatever. Go read my book if you want to get to know me or cheer for me.

It’s kind of weird. It’s not like I get invited to people’s homes even though I may have written about people, give them hugs in public, stood up for a major cultural cause, or only have small or long conversations. Is that the boon of a disheveled writer? To be a hermit of sorts, off in a corner and just observing culture taking place? To be the intelligent weirdo in the group people whisper about? Or is it a problem with being dual ethnic, having grown up thinking I was white even though my father had extremely dark skin. It was his own doing. He told his own kids, “You’re white.”

Why?

I was at Narducci’s last night and I saw a sense of family. Sure, I kind of thought I belonged. I was asked to read a poem. I took photos. I had a few little conversations that weren’t about me. I was asking people about themselves, about their art and music. So they talked. No one asked me anything about me. I was a lurker in a room with a camera. But what was I to the people in the room?

Maybe people think they have me all figured out, so they don’t ask questions in return. Maybe it’s the dual ethnic ‘white guy’ stand-offishness I get because I am Chicano, but my language doesn’t show it, my looks don’t show it, and my writing doesn’t always emulate the Chicano side, unless people read Thick White Crust, the most Chicano piece of fiction ever to come out of Bakersfield.

Maybe people think I wear my culture on my sleeve to show off. Fuck that. I embrace who I am and if people don’t like that I say I’m Chicano they can shove whatever prejudiced thought they have up their ass.

Yeah, I’m a rebel. So what?

The family that really touched me last night that I observed and gained an instant respect for was the family of Chelito Miranda, and her sons Damas of LIKHY2 and Jesus (Chuy) of Reckless Guns. At one point Chelita brought in a book from all her youthful success while a musician in Mexico. She lives in Bakersfield now, but when she was younger, she entertained with the most well-known musicians that graced the cities of Mexico in the 70s and early 80s. The book was filled with articles, fliers and photos. I could tell she was proud of her distant youth. Yet she seemed humble, almost embarrassed to show strangers such personal information. She was in touch with her cultural past and present and even sang a few songs and performed on the guitar with a back-up musician. I was touched by one of the cumbias she strummed. Her son Damas filmed her performance, while her other son, Jesus had performed some rocking songs earlier. He’s definitely a Slash of Guns and Roses fan with his big frizzed rocker hair and intricate guitar-lick metal riff style and cool poses.


Chuy gets ready to rock, Slash style. Yes, he can shred.


Damas talks about his mother's history


The young Chelito Miranda


Still beautiful and her songs are magical

I felt their strong sense of family, even though last night in the end, I felt out of place. Sure, I was supposed to give a poem. But then I wasn’t even told when I wasn’t giving it. I was ignored. That happens I guess. It’s a dual ethnic issue. A few cheers for the writer… but poem written for the occasion, left out… Was someone afraid I wasn’t going to stay if they didn’t tell me? I walked out because I wasn’t given the simple respect of being told, “We’re not presenting poems tonight after all.”

Was it really because five minutes on a stage during a 4-hour+ evening was too much time? Or are there deeper, dual ethnic issues in a Bakersfield that wants media coverage, but won’t support in return if someone looks white, but who wants to provide cultural imagery?

As I walked out I was spotted and told, “Hey the atmosphere wasn’t right,” or some bullshit like that.

Atmosphere? What?

Like I need an atmosphere to grab a microphone and inspire a group of people. I’m an artist. I can create an atmosphere with words and speech. It’s the tiny gift God gave me. He didn’t give me a lot, but it’s enough for me to survive and to be able to say, “Hey, God gave me something…”

I headed outside of Narduccis. I saw Chelito and made a point of telling her that her music was wonderful. I gave a bow, almost as if I had to show a deep respect for such a musical mother having been among such youthful culture exploring their own music and art. For a brief moment I imagined what her home must be like: the smell of food, the people and cultural language and maybe a TV blaring… I imagine colors and music and flowers. I could see photos on walls of a family that stretched into a distant cultural past that far exceeded one tiny room on one forgotten night of music, art, and shunned poetry. I could see cars in a driveway and stares out of a kitchen window, and children and cousins, and smiles.

I was reminded of my own poem, a Chicano poem, another forgotten blurb about our mythical valley of history and present, of dreams and ideas, longing and pride. The poem goes hand in hand with my Chicano novel, Thick White Crust:

There’s an immigrant in all of us, waiting…
There’s a ghost slipping down my esophagus I can’t swallow.
Red lights mean bravery goes wrong in rancid gunfire and death,
While green lights are your H20 sparkling firefly dust.

There’s an immigrant standing above the Central Valley
He’s a giant. Orange and lemon blossoms grow from his beard.
He sips the shadows of rivers.
His arms are covered by a thick white crust of bones.
Peppermint rain drips from his lips.
Scars of bones line his belly.

He lays down, slips beneath the valley soil.
He’s the god from where every dusty sprig grows.
Now you walk down your urban streets, fix your make-up,
Pull up your boxers, kiss your mother, say “Hello” to Mary,
Creep for baby Jesus, gang bang race down East side Narducci Streets.
You leave an echo of yourself in the giant’s arms.
And you live life all the way home.

As I turned away and headed for the parking lot I was suddenly more aware of my dual ethnicism. The darkness of the parking lot seemed darker; my friend Matildakay who I’ve known since the 7th grade suddenly seemed a distant moon. The giant of my poem rumbled under my feet, blinking in a moment of awareness deep beneath the valley floor. It was a toxic moment as I was aware of having a poem shunned, and reminded of my own brown-skinned father who might have simply been embarrassed if he were to ever tell his white-skinned kids they were Chicano, Latino, or Mexican.

Hectic Films to premiere most disturbing film short ever out of Bakersfield, California - By N.L. Belardes

"It's an intensely disgusting two-and-a-half minute rollercoaster ride through serial killer hell," I said as I drove from Meathead's house where I picked up a new copy of the Cinema of the Lords contest promo. I had picked it up for tonight's disturbing poetry and film portion of the Downtown Sculpture and Assemblage Show. Meathead gave me a hug. I still felt squashed even several blocks away.

My stomach was still in knots after seeing the short piece, "Skip", and I'm a lover of horror movies.

If you're some kind of weak human who can't stand horror images, just stay home and lock your doors. The boogeyman's gonna get you anyways. We don't need you to wander into our disturbing showcase...

But then, if you think you can handle it, come and see poetry, sculpture, assemblage, and Hectic Films' "Skip"... and pray it's not real.

Should the Beauty and Fashion Industry and bloggers embrace? A view of the Pierce Mattie round table discussions held in New York - By N.L. Belardes

In case you’re not aware, blogging is not a Bakersfield or Central Valley phenomenon, it’s a global phenomenon. There are industries, topics and a network of bloggers far outside of Bakersfield worthy of online exposure. Sure, you’ve tapped into bakotopia.com or the local newspaper blogs for a snuggly sense of community. And more people in the Southern Central Valley are writing everyday, or I should say, more people are acting like writers everyday. Many blogs are one-hit wonders and sputter out like Fourth of July picnic fiestas in a crowded park of celebrations. Often the writing is just plain bland. Might as well serve them up with a plate of noodles.

But what about bloggers who stick around, who are decent writers, and who influence the masses with magnetic discussions on any issue—even global topics?

Those bloggers enjoying a global awareness have the ability to grow their own sense of community into like-minded networks that take them outside of their city and town communities. Yes, to simply blog within your community in the end might be short-sighted when you can be a part of a social network of online spinsters that fit a global interest.

Maybe you have arts to grow, interests to sell that can be capitalized on more than just a localized level. So you focus on a new kind of community. Should that community include businesses and products? Do you trust the product companies who want to woo you?

And how do you cross over without sounding like a sell out?

“I get my underground Bakersfield news from nlbelardes.com. I don’t want to read ads.”

Or do you? Maybe that just depends on how products are written about. You’re tricked everyday in major magazines that place product ads right next to articles that hype certain products without you even realizing…

You don’t even notice when you’re walking out of the store with the product in your hands.

Recently a PR company called Pierce Mattie sent out invitations to bloggers in New York and beyond about a mini-conference where Fashion and Beauty industry publicists attended from Cover Girl Cosmetics, Evins Communications, Estee Lauder Corporate, Origins Beauty, EBay, Alison Brod PR, Marina Maher Communications, The Bromley Group, Max Factor, and more.

Did publicists attend to just get blogger attention? Or was this an educational meeting of the minds to present opportunities for bloggers, publicists and Pierce Mattie, who took the lead playing middle man—wooing both industry and a potential outlet that includes mostly unpaid writers.

And why blogs? Because the blogosphere is where millions congregate to read, to socialize and share. And that includes MySpace.com. Newspapers mimic the blogosphere because they want traffic and the loyal conversation journalism bonds that bloggers enjoy; that’s good for their business, while companies also want to vie for a position to gain mass appeal to potential customers through blogs.

Pierce Mattie wrote about the event in an email (perhaps a mass email written after bloggers like me didn’t jump on a plane to New York for the event). Of course I’m a little cynical because I don’t like being led by my blog nose into potential traps. I’m usually hesitant about press releases unless there’s a personal note, or some indication how the entity who sent it came across my blog. Hey, who do you trust? Anyway, Pierce wrote:

Nick,

I really wish you would have come to the beauty/fashion blog roundtable we had last night…

The night was fun, very informative and ran very smoothly. Attendees learned about how to own, set up and manage a blog plus how to pitch blogs, etc. We also talked about MySpace.com, virtual communities, long lead glossies, etc. As well as where are beauty and fashion communications going as a whole. We dealt heavily with fast breaking news on product placement for skin care and runway couture as well as apparel pitching and street wear topics with sneakers. And PR etiquette with sampling, swag bags and gifts. Plus of course Spam, what defines spam, good spam verse bad and what should bloggers do if they bust a publicist spamming.

Pierce Mattie videotaped portions of one of its interviews. Here’s a sample (Read the transcript of the interview and see more video)



So then what?

I commented on the Pierce Mattie blog about the Fashion and Beauty bloggers event:

I'm digging the youtube.com uploaded interview... great way to get your company info out there and to use the blogosphere to create a buzz about Pierce Mattie as well as the fashion industry and blogs...

I think there are some important questions left out. Here's one of many of mine that I would have had were I there...

As a blogger/novelist my agenda isn't so hidden. My blog is an organic marketing tool that needs to continue to grow. That means, as a blogger dealing with publicists, it's important for publicists to help bloggers in return, to not just send products and press releases, but to find ways to help PROMOTE the blogs who would promote them.

Let's face it, as a fashion marketing tool, a good blog isn't necessarily about being objective, but being part of a community that can be very supportive of the any industry...(and with that support also comes occasional criticism) A blog that wants to grow wants to increase traffic, nurture relationships, and find ways that publicists can help them in return for interesting blog articles that strengthen community and industry...


Pierce gave a great response about organic PR in response to my mention of blogs being an organic marketing tool, and about blogs needing press in return for press:

Hi N.L.

Actually we did discuss that in our roundtable event last night. Not seen in the two clips posted.

So... your question is 'how can PR Pro's promote blogs that they pitch to help the blog build their biz?' Correct?

I will answer that with another question. "Do PR Pro's promote magazines, TV shows and radio programs that their clients are featured on?" Not directly. But... the key N.L. is that we as PR Pro's educate our clients on why it's important to have relationships with these bloggers and other forms of new media. We as publicists try to educate our clients on why we are pitching consumer product blogs. And that some blogs may be just as important as say a Marie Claire or Vogue depending on the client. Taking it one step further we often have to defend the blogging medium with the client if they show hesitation.

We are only now beginning to build these strong relationships with bloggers. We’ve learned to embrace them, as they are just passionate people who want to be a part of a conversation and community. With better communication and education of our concerns and needs as publicists and paying attention to the concerns of bloggers we hope to help one another and meet both our clients and the bloggers audiences needs.

That is organic PR.


I think Pierce Mattie is correct. Clients, bloggers and the PR companies in between need to have dialogue, understanding of each other’s goals, and must trust one another before mutually beneficial blog writing can take place. Bloggers need mentions in magazines, crosslinks on PR firm websites, write-ups in newsletters, and to just be talked about in general if blogs are to support any industry with occasional fun write-ups (not just re-postings of press releases). After all, those industries who need the blog press are making millions. Pierce Mattie will hopefully get his share. But in the world of blogs where many writers dwell in an underground world of free pens and prose, they need the reassurance that they’re not going to be taken advantage of by anyone, especially the wealthy companies who want to get the word out… As for the crossing over part to talk about products, that’s easy. Everyone buys products and wants to hear about how existing and new products work. So why not inform the masses?

(Get more Pierce Mattie news and events)
(Read some criticism of the event from gawker.com)

Soulajar spotted on the streets of San Luis Obispo (SLO) - By N.L. Belardes

Always good to see Bakersfield bands not just on the streets of Bakersfield...

Check out Soulajar sharing some youtube.com...

And a note from Mike C.:

Soulajar just recently played the San Luis Obispo Farmer's Market/Street Fair again, this time parked outside of Higuera and Broad. As you may or may not know, Jon recently stepped down from the vocals w/ the group, and his brother Jim was kind enough to sit in w/ the band for this already booked gig. Stacey Ericsson, formerly of Warwick Place, picked up the duties on keys.

Jim recently recorded a CD in Nashville w/ some top-of-their-game musicians, and it can be heard on his myspace page (link provided below). The guys performed a tune from this album, as well as one of his other solo pieces from a previous demo.

They performed a few Soulajar staples, as well as instrumental and vocal improvised versions of previously lyricized numbers.

By the way, I played poker with Stacey once. He's a cool cat. I don't remember if he took all my money or not...

Hectic Films releases name of film short made for downtown art show - By N.L. Belardes

I asked Rickey Bird of Hectic Films to make something creepy for the Downtown Sculpture and Assemblage Show this Saturday night (August 19th). We sat outside Starbucks at the Marketplace a few days ago and talked movies, strange film shoots, and Zowietown.

I haven't written much about what a cool guy I think Rickey is and about how awesome I think Hectic Films is. Bakersfield needs more filmmakers to jump from the woodwork and work together to put Bakersfield higher up on the map of filmmaking. Hectic Films adds to the rich talent that makes up the pool of Bakersfield film. Which reminds me. I can't wait to see some of the entries for Cinema of the Lords. Just yesterday there was some serious networking being done between the new Kerngamers.com and Cerro Coso Animation Academy where there was much talk about the film contest.

Come Saturday night to see SKIP, a Hectic Films original made just for the Downtown Sculpture and Assemblage Show (A shout out to Jason Sanders of Hectic Films just cause I never mention him).

By the way, I just saw Landen Belardes poetry freak film... It's good.

A Bakersfield theatre love story - By N.L. Belardes

You know, sometimes you hear love stories or you read love stories and you just have to wonder what motivates people to tell them. It is narcissism? Self-pride? Are people just showing off, or like Inevitably Keely's story, is she just saying, "Hey, Bakersfield is never going to be life as it should be, but if your path is here, there can be goodness." Sure, you might fall in love with someone, or like Keely, even flowers and puppydogs. OK, I'm giving Keely a hard time. Truth is, she wrote a great story about leaving the big city for Bakersfield. I'll let her tell the rest:

"Bakersfield "Spotlight"

This past June marked my fourth year in Bakersfield. I moved here from San Diego after sleeping on an old futon in my parents’ living room for 7 months. I'd left behind a horrible marriage and was ready to start a new life. Bakersfield seemed like the logical place to go.

Why? That was pretty much everyone's question. No one understood, least of all my parents or my former employers. I was leaving behind a good paying job, friends, my family and San Diego for Bakersfield? Why not L.A. or Chicago (where I had job offers)? Why not stay in San Diego? What was there to do in Bakersfield?

The main draw for me was that I'd be living with my best friend from high school. We'd be able to do all the things I missed out on doing before. Moving in with her and her roommate was instant family, instant friends. It was living in my own space with two girls I thought the world of and being included in theirs. It was late night Rusty's delivery, Ouji board nights, eating out almost every night and always having a friend to talk to. Four years ago, Bakersfield was my place to start over. It was small enough that I didn't feel like I would be swallowed whole and I liked the proximity to L.A and San Diego. Everyone was so friendly and I felt like I belonged here for some reason. I moved here wide-eyed and ready for new beginnings and second chances. Bakersfield ended up being where I found me again.

(Visit Keely's blog for the full story. And leave her a comment!)

For a bonus, read this "I love BBQ" food story and leave Dick Margulis a comment. Tell him N.L. sent ya...

'Exoskeleton and Baby Jeezbot' sculpture taking shape for Downtown Sculpture and Assemblage Show - By N.L. Belardes

I was an art major in college for a while. Eventually I changed that to history. Then I became an artist and writer and off and on professor. Since I stopped being a hermit I've come out to do art shows: photography, poetry, Stories from Dust, paper mache puppets, film. I love puppets. I could put on a freak puppet show, which I think should be a theme for one of the upcoming Bakersfield Art Rave shows.

My dad used to make puppets and tour around to schools in San Jose in the mid-1970s. A trucker with a creative side I guess.

Now I'm working on a massive six-foot-tall glowing sculpture within a sculpture. It's freaky. I'm testing some lights tonight--still have to put the robotic flare in the babybot within the big sculpture... It's going to have glowing arms and legs and innards that are very... baby jeezbot on the inside... Maybe that's what I should name this piece: 'Exoskeleton and Baby Jeezbot'. I love how freak work takes shape even in name... no more Exoskeleton and Babybot Innards.

Here are images of the exoskeleton and the hidden baby jeezbot lying on unfolded laundry on a chair as I test some lights--probably not the lights I'm going to end up using... don't forget to come to the art show Saturday night...

Hectic Films to pull film surprise, while Landen Belardes promises to freak you out - By N.L. Belardes

Yes, Hectic Films has some kind of mini-creep film up their sleeve, a surprise entry along with its Fly On The Wall Series at the Downtown Sculpture and Assemblage Show.

I just got off the phone with my kid from Dirty Spanglish. He promises a freak-creep-out piece too for the Noveltown entry. That's the film with embedded poetry from local artists that's shining into basement blackness... Hair raising? He promises some of that...

I'm putting finishing touches on a freaky glowing sculpture I'm calling "Exoskeleton and Babybot Innards".

There's also a surprise poet in 'The Buckaroo'. Oh yes... you'll get some freak poetry from a local musician who performs at Bakersfield's top tourist destination, The Crystal Palace...

(Read more)
(press release)

Guest writer Greg Goodsell talks about the tough path of local artists - By N.L. Belardes

The King of Scream, Greg Goodsell is making another fine appearance on Paperback Writer, this time to talk about local Bakersfield art and artists. No need for a fancy introduction to this piece. Let's just jump right in...


Why bother? On the travails of being a local artist...

By Greg Goodsell

E-mail: gregoodsell@hotmail.com


Yours truly has been going over some local blogs by some local creative types recently, and I have noticed distinct cases of burnout on the part of many. Painters, poets, actors, filmmakers, singers, musicians, and other have all expressed their frustration about working in Bakersfield and Kern County. Their frustration can be boiled down into a few simple statements.

1. No one outside the tight-knit artistic community comes out to support them.

2. There is very low turnout for their plays or musical performances.

3. They aren't getting the support they desire from fellow artists.

4. No one has heralded them as unsung geniuses.

5. There�s no monetary compensation for their efforts.


Let's take these concerns one at a time�


1. No one outside the tight-knit artistic community comes out to support them. Here's a story that I find especially illustrative of this situation. You're enjoying a quiet lunch at a sidewalk cafe� when a wild-haired man with an unkempt beard walks up to you and starts sketching your portrait. You play along with the fellow as best you can as he scribbles away on his sketch pad. He then presents you with the finished picture. The portrait doesn't resemble you in the slightest, and the man demands $50 for his hastily scrawled efforts.

Sadly, this is how many people outside the artistic community perceive artists. The great unwashed masses largely see creative types as producing items that were never asked for, that are on some level edifying for them, usually with a meaning too deliberately obscure for them to grasp. And who can blame them? You can't expect those who are not inclined towards truth and beauty to part with their beer money for a painting. The only solution to this problem would appear in producing work that is more accessible to the common man (such as the Spotlight�s Theatre "The History of Rock and Roll" production) or to have more realistic expectations for public reaction to your work.

2. There is very low turnout for their plays or musical performances. Here I will quote from our mutual friend Ann Landers who once said, "No matter how well a man is thought of during his lifetime, the turnout for his funeral is largely dictated by the weather." In a previous column, I said that there is almost too much to do in Bakersfield in regards to artistic and cultural events. Yours truly can't be in two places at once, and there are times when sleep, food and sex must take precedence over a friend's recital or rock band.

Artists in this situation can turn a negative and make it into a positive. When I hosted a series of open mic poetry performances years ago, there would be times when I would only get nine to 10 people. I would seize this opportunity to do my more outrageous stuff. The few people who did see it would tell others and this would inspire others to come the next time. There is a wonderfully transitory nature to live performances, and stories that revolve around "you had to be there" add to an event's mystique.

3. They aren't getting the support they desire from fellow artists. Well, duh! Artists are a notoriously selfish bunch, too busy to share their spotlight with others. Having worked both sides of the fence -- providing free publicity for other artists, and hosting my own events, it's important to build reciprocal relationships. In the early Eighties, I spent an awful lot of time promoting some local punk rock groups. Instead of building a network of friends and like-minded individuals, I was instead blamed for low turnouts for lousy bands. The personalities I was dealing with turned out to be very unsupportive of my own artistic efforts, and I quickly turned my energies elsewhere.

There must be a spoken agreement among artists that if they attend a friend�s performance or help promote something that a friend has done, they must return the favor at some point. The main word in the phrase artistic community is community. Let's work together or not at all.

4. No one has heralded them as unsung geniuses. Don't hold your breath. Seriously, I have received very high praise in my lifetime, but it still hasn't gone towards making a dent in my massive credit card debt. I have been lavishly praised almost in equal parts to being condemned vociferously (usually at paying gigs). Recognition is very important to an artist. But it shouldn't affect them from producing art. The concept for "art for art's sake" is discussed at the next point --

5. There's no monetary compensation for their efforts. As we have seen from the example of the scruffy sidewalk artist who demands $50 for his scribble, you can't expect everyone to appreciate your sometimes highly personal projects. Sometimes your art will exist solely for its own sake, for your own solely personal reasons.

Having worked in the capacity as a "professional artist" for many years, I can vouch that the experience can be a very frustrating and unrewarding one. The professional artist must deal at length with people who don't know what they want -- but don't want what you have given them. Doing your own thing -- without the interference of others can be and is a reward unto itself.

However -- there are times when an artist can rightfully drop out of the community until the climes are more hospitable. A few very good reasons include:

1. The effort becomes more trouble than what it's worth. If there isn't enough interest to sustain a project, and it's costing you a lot of out-of-pocket expense, maybe it's time to take a break.

2. The effort no longer addresses your creative needs. Since a lot of what you're doing is gratis, it should be one that fulfills you on some level. If you play in a band that does music that no longer interests you, or are continually cast in parts in plays that do not challenge you, it's probably time to move on. You can do certain things as a favor for friends, but you should let them know it's not a long-term commitment.

3. You want to do other things. If you enjoy local notoriety for doing sidewalk chalk drawings of Scooby Doo, and then want to turn your attentions to expansive murals addressing Third World issues, be prepared to be told by others, "That's very nice� but can't you do another chalk drawing of Scooby Doo having a Scooby snack?" Stick to your guns! You have won the right to pursue your personal vision without commercial interference, so� go for it!

A commentary on World Trade Center - By N.L. Belardes

I was trying to think of names for the movie World Trade Center since the movie isn’t really about the World Trade Center. No history, no build-up, no idea who is in the World Trade Center except at one point in the movie when a statistic is mentioned: 50,000-60,000 people—and all treated like ghosts and practically demonic shadows—nameless ships that pass by in the night.

I thought maybe, The Lobby. But then it’s not really about a lobby. Or The Missing Bad Guys… and although the bad guys are missing from the movie, it’s not really about any bad guys or good guys for that matter. At least Apocalypse Now was a brave movie less than five years after Vietnam. It wasn’t afraid to say, “This was an ugly war and Americans killed and were killed and were traumatized and raped a country and each other,” and so on… hey it was a viewpoint whether you agreed or not and showed the brutality of war on a new level for cinema-goers to ponder.

World Trade Center shows the brutality of large concrete blocks, which is about as grey and lifeless as you can get. That’s about it. I thought maybe the movie could be titled, Brokeback Port Authority—two guys, in love, in a desperate situation… No, that wouldn’t go well with the Oliver Stone fanclub of compromising art, or those who read this blog and can’t take a joke. And besides, it wasn’t even really about the Port Authority, it was about a group of stooges who we don’t even know if they were friends, because we aren’t given any background information. Maybe I should step back and give the movie a daring title. Something risqué, like The Collapse of The American Mind. Yeah, or Below Ground: The Story of Shadows. Shadows because I’m supposed to believe that these two guys were that clueless, and in their conversations while trapped didn’t once speculate as to what happened to them.

You know what gets me? How I could leave a theatre about 9/11 without crying? How? I’ll admit right here and now I’m the most emotional person I know. I’m a big baby who will cry at movies for just the music being sappy. Hell I got emotional at The Devil Wears Prada. Flight 93 brought chills and tears—and how much more devastating were the attacks on the World Trade Center?

Not one tear.

Not even close.

Am I that desensitized? Or is the movie that bad?

It’s that bad, unless you just want to see a patriotic piece of goo about firemen digging rubble. But don’t call it World Trade Center. Title it, The Mole Men of 9/11. And don’t get me wrong. Authority figures and people of uniform in an array of job titles came together and kicked ass. And they died too. But I’m tired of the statistics all about cops and firemen.

The common men and women who were the targets of 9/11 were not the cops and firemen who daringly performed rescues and failed. The common target represented the economic structure of America. What is the average image of a person attacked on 9/11 at the World Trade Center? A woman in a red power suit? A man in a grey suit with a briefcase? What’s wrong with seeing images of the corporate frontlines, white collar workers lined up in the trenches of an exploded building, lives sacrificed simply for working in the greatest towers America ever built? And put any color of man or woman in those suits.

Give me the Apocalypse Now version of 9/11, one that explores the corporate warrior in the buildings through the entire devastation to the bitter end—a story of survival that ends tragically in disaster. The West Coast needs such a movie—one that isn’t afraid to talk economics, terrorists and the gloom of dying in a tie and long-sleeved button-up while trying to escape. Hey, how do you take the reality out of reality? Make a movie about ghosts...

I sat in the back of a bus just a few days after 9/11 and listened to gangbangers talk about 9/11. “Oh yeah, those white fuckers are all dead… they can keep dyin’.”

What?

No compassion.

I see it everyday. I see a lack of compassion in my own family. I see a lack of compassion in the people who walk past me on the way to work. I see a lack of compassion in artists, in musicians, in theatre folk, in fellow writers, in newspapers, in Bakersfield TV, in road rage mongerers, and in myself at times.

I see a peculiar West Coast phenomenon of “It happened to them and it won’t happen to me” mentality. And this crowd of unbelievers needs to see to believe.

Maybe World Trade Center is a just a simple movie about Democrats and Republicans—two opposing views falling into the rubble of the American consciousness. They must come to terms that they don’t understand a damn thing when it all caves in on them—that not even their uniform will rescue them. And just maybe they realize that when they weren’t trapped, they were just as much in the dark as when on the outside looking in.

And that’s just where those kids in the back of the bus are left if watching this movie.

Downtown Sculpture and Assemblage Show takes Bakersfield to industrial zone freakiness through light and sculpture - By N.L. Belardes

Rubber duck culture change art by N.L. Belardes


Brought to you by Bakersfield Art Rave, Noveltown, Bakotopia, and MAS Magazine.

The Downtown Sculpture and Assemblage Show takes place on these two Saturdays only: August 19th and 26th at Capistrano’s, 19th and Eye Street. I’ll tell you now, Bakersfield culture hasn’t see anything like this show, with the strangest of the strange coming out of the woodwork to bring you pieces of art dug from the very robotic souls of the Southern Valley, from the multi-talented depths of assemblage creations, and from the poetic industrial wastes of a city normally thought more for oil and cotton.

Broken robots, computers ripped and painted and fused with toxic sludge... Music from the industrial wasteland of San Francisco accompanies projected poetry from N.L. Belardes, Black Dog, Matildakay, Art Czar, Julie Jordan Scott, and the raving lunatic himself, Greg Goodsell—all in a freaky factory-themed film collage slammed together by The War Days Director; mini-films from Hectic Films, and the Cinema of the Lords trailer. Sculptures spawned from a whirlwind of glass, metal parts and who knows what; fused assemblages of sight and sound; lighted sculptures in a freaky industrial underground art motif that will flicker like your own neon-haunted dreams.

Here's a photo essay taste of the show:


The new downtown mural adorns the side of Capistrano's
created by the industrial grafitti kings of Street Klothes


Inside Capistrano's is another mural by the airbrush masters.
Visit them at 1823 Chester Ave. in Bakersfield


The upstairs gallery room has an industrial wasteland feel.
Imagine art hanging and staring and waiting for you...


Sey created this maddening piece that you need to see in person
for all the demented angular specifics of its insanity...


Do you know what she's hanging?


CSUB art student Amanda Camerer is in touch with static


Down below is a second room for film and strange lighted sculptures.
Music will haunt from San Francisco's industrial wasteland with
music dug from a meeting with N.L. in the San Francisco industrial zone pre-9/11.
It was then I met with industrial audio maestro Scott Arford...
He slipped me incredible sounds I am only now unearthing...


Dare the toxic darkness far below the Bakersfield underground...
See the poetry and let it invade your mind with the grinding of steel.
Beware of images and poetry growing like an industrial nightmare.
See Hectic Films shine on the wall with A FLY ON THE WALL series...


Broken Robot invades with shapes from an apocalyptic robot graveyard. Watch out for robot sludge invasions.


For just a moment it's almost like a real restaurant,
though it won't be open yet for the event...


Matildakay plots with the Bakersfield Art Rave maestro
A.S. Ashley about poetry sculpture and Bakersfield art culture


Sculpture lust in a broken glass infinite kiss


The kiss continues and waits for you on Saturday night...
5pm-midnight...

*Bonus: Friday night at Narducci's is an event I may read a poem at: Latin Cultural Revolution. Features art exhibit by Maricela Oropeza, poetry from CSUB Hermes Club and the best Spanish rock in Bakersfield with LIKHY2

Bella Byrd of the Bakersfield Rollergirls Backs down from Derby-novelist Fight - By N.L. Belardes

I saw this sticker in an SUV window...

I’m telling you, I showed up looking for eye contact and all I got was avoidance. There was a big benefit hoopla for the Bakersfield Rollergirls and I snuck in the front door of The Dome to check out the girls. Oh sure, they’re sexy, they had some wild outfits and some big funky quad skates. Yeah, and they might even be a little tough. But that Bella Byrd. I was expecting her and I in fisticuffs at center ring for a showdown of brute force versus hockey cheap shots with a stick to her ankles. I was ready—no doubt about that. I was going to throw down right in front of that revolutionary socialist punk, Sal.


Socialist Sal and his big hat singing "Arm the Poor!"


LIKHY2: best Spanish Rock in Buck City


Member of Esiah about to toast the Rollergirls

I might have even done a pre-warm-up dance around his cowboy hat, ripped right from his head—if Bella had even given me eye contact. LIKHY2 started playing and “Arm the poor!!” screams Sal. Oh, I love those guys—their Spanish rock is the best in town. But for some strange reason all I could think was GIVE ME THE WHORES!

Oh you all know I’m not shy. And there was lots of media there. No need for an N.L. report on all the play-by-play of the festivities. Yeah, the WHORES were in the house—all three of them and all three damn chords. You know them: Shantell, Heather and Darcie. Vocalist Darcie is head whore right now—six months into it. “I told her she didn’t have to be a whore to actually be in the band,” Shantell said. Shantell’s the drummer in Three Chord Whore, the official band of the Bakersfield Rollergirls. They now have their second skater song, a nice compendium to Zamboni Zombie, their Bakersfield Condor grunge ballad (Buy the CD and support Noveltown).

I sat in Shantell’s car and heard the new tunes. Ohhhh yeah… talk about dark angels of post-grunge angst now with some sweet hooks in the musack… oh baby, if Darcie weren’t shagalagabun-in-the-ovened up, I’d be beggin’ her to have my love child. Oh sing to me sweet Darcie Blake! Let’s run away to an island and make Mai Tai’s and cook love children and make whore music! (And thanks for the shout out on the back of the CD... first time ever!)


In the WHOREmobile


WHOREpick


WHOREbasket of goodness...

Oh forget it. She’s just a whore. No pulling her from THAT band of tough chick songs where men get smashed with lyrics the same way I would crush Bella Bryd with a cheap hockey shot to the gut.

Matildakay and I, fresh from Sam Sleuth’s black-and-white stage, were now in a world of full color sexy vixen skatergirls. No messin’ around here. I was in the Bakersfield Rollergirl house to size up the sexy competition. Competition you say? I’m telling you, I’ve skated against inline hockey girls who could pulverize most men… And I wanted to see if these Rollergirls are just a bunch of chickens on wheels. Oh yeah, they talk tough… but, does Dred Blocker really hate a sissy girl who can’t take a hit? Does Naughty Angel really think roller derby is cheaper than anger management classes? Maybe she really cries at every practice. Maybe Miss Disruption really has buns of Play-Doh, and not steel at all… And does Bella Byrd really drink Newcastle? Maybe she drinks watered-down lemon-lime Kool-Aid. Not necessarily a poor choice in wimp drinks, but you know what I mean.


A bunch of Rollergirl punks waiting for a riot

So when will these girls start performing their smashtown antics? And is it real or just WWF bullshit on wheels? I read in their flier, “Our games are not staged, the games are not fixed and all the fall and spills are the real deal!”

Bullshit. It’s all special effects and extra padding, I swear.


Skates of death...



Or maybe these Barbie-haters on wheels are going to be THAT tough? I’d like to see Bella Byrd put on the inline skates and try some hockey. Better yet, I’d like to see a charity game between Rollergirls in their cheater quad skates take on the over-aged hockey roller dudes and gals of Buck City. Throw in a couple of local celebrities and that might be fun watching the score rack up. Buck City hockey elite: 50. Rollergirls: 1.

OK, maybe I’m being too harsh. Maybe I need to just take a deep breath and back off. Maybe I’m just feeling a little competitive… or maybe I’m just acting jealous that the local hockey chicks, some of whom have nearly scalped me, never saw so much community support as these derby girls are seeing. Roller derby in Bakersfield is creating a little buzz, and that’s good.




You lookin' at me? I shoulda dropped the camera and scrapped right then


There she is, Bella Byrd. Don't let her nice smile deceive you

I just want to know when their games are going to be so I can come down and cheer for some brutal Bakersfield hits. I’ve been watching Bakersfield skaters for years kick serious ass, and I’m not talking about the Condors. I remember team Clank, the Fighting Crabs, the Tailgators, Short Bus, the Bruins, my old Blackhawk come-from-behind championship team, and I need to slip in my old Vegas team: Doom. The hits were big and Bakersfield hasn’t seen hard-hitting on actual quads since the Roller Dogs played hockey in the old Standard Park League back in the mid-1990s. Ahh, the world of brutal skating. Hockey, derby, or just in-line jumps… gotta love it—it’s here.

The Bakersfield Demolition Drama smashes a Gaslight hit with Sam Sleuth and the Fall of the Coffee Baron - By N.L. Belardes

The vaulted room of Bakersfield's Gaslight Melodrama

I think more aptly put, the performance I saw at the Gaslight could have been better titled Episode One of the Sam Sleuth Mystery Hour: The Fall of the Coffee Baron. Why? Because I want a part two, and a part three, and a part four… oh you get the idea. And Sam Sleuth was only about an hour long… (add in the Vaudeville which I sadly had to skip to go watch Roller Derby chicks. Nevermind).

First off, if you’re not from the northwest or the Oildale area and you’re headed north on 99 and decide to swing down Olive Road to hit the backdoor entrance to the Gaslight to avoid Rosedale traffic, think again. You might get lost. Allen Road dead-ends when headed south from Olive, and then it’s guesswork from there. I was lucky to turn west; I think it was on Hageman, and then another lucky turn onto Sante Fe. I think that was the name; and then Sante Fe turns into Allen again, which is totally confusing—all because I wanted to beat Rosedale traffic and arrive on time. Which I wasn’t. I wish there was a sign on the corner of Jomoni or Jumanji or whatever the street is called because I’m blind as a bat… It’s a well-hidden barn, OK?

I was late. Matildakay should have driven. It was her car anyways. And you all know that I CAN’T PAY ATTENTION without thinking about possible porn directors. So sue me.

On to the show…






Detective Sam Sleuth takes a break from his shoe phone

Right off, the Gaslight is quaint, family-owned and tugs at your senses with an atmosphere that’s as friendly as the big tubs of popcorn and salty smell that wafts through the place. Sure, it’s a barn and you might feel like you’re part of some audience nativity scene. But that’s fine. There’s food, there’s ICE CREAM. There’s a fun-loving spirit perfect for any melodrama. I don’t think I missed but eight minutes of the show—and a short show it is, though well worth the ticket price for the quality of entertainment you get.


I can't eat ice cream but I bought one...


This CSUB theatre guru forced me to buy her food so
SHE could enjoy her job while I enjoyed the show...

I have a new name for some of the local talent to forever be known here on out on Paperback Writer as The Bakersfield Demolition Drama. They’re a team, and they’re not out to wreck your life as much as to take away any kind of sour mood you might be in at the moment. Oh yes, they’ll wreck your sour apples and smash them into a sweet cinnamon pie mood with their uproarious writing. Yes, it’s Michael Prince and James Mongold, two brothers smashing together their first Bakersfield hit show with Sam Sleuth and the Fall of the Coffee Baron. They’re so smashing they’re the Bakersfield Demolition Drama. They will crush you with their wit and malachi crunch you together with their madcap sly humor and slapstick style.

And the whole idea of black & white styled film-like imagery?





Imagine stepping in from the bright Bakersfield summer heat after my poor driving. I need a damn GPS implant. We stumbled into a dark room that felt like what little color was left had been sucked from planet Earth and was only allowed to glow from the darkened, angular faces, arms, and legs of the cast. The colorization of Sam Sleuth does not cast a shadow over the performance, but enhances the very humor and tone of the play. It was my first black & white theatre performance. Not a new technique, albeit a difficult one. Audience members have to respect the ‘washing out’ of the entire set and of the actors and actresses. The theatre is darkened to perfection with shadows allowed to cast like an old American murder mystery film. Any light leaked onto the stage is stylishly placed or cast with spotlight perfection. Angles are sharper, shadowy faces grimace to a frothy delight, and the entire set is painted in grey tones, as well as black and white, which makes for a brilliant show of style in and of itself.

Like I said, this is only part one, right?

The dialogue in Sam Sleuth and the Fall of the Coffee Baron is witty and uproarious. The plot is fun and has some twists. I admit I wanted probably three more twists than the storyline had built into it. I think the writers must have been cramming the story into about an hour to allow for the vaudeville part of the show. Maybe part two will allow for a few more twists in the plot, which could make for even zanier writing.

Why? Because the Bakersfield Demolition Drama could have spun even more witty dialogue! The dialogue leading through the plot was amazing. I couldn’t get enough of the back-and-forth jabs, the narrator’s bumbling conscience of the story, the historical jokes and references to modern day and film noir eras of technology and progress, the bantering between characters and melodramatic rendering of dark stereotypes, like the bohemian blind jazzody ventriloquist with the owl in hawkish disguise, and butler British homemaker brothers whose loyalty is maddening.


The Bakersfield Demolition Drama in action...


...and again...


And yet again, brothers James Mongold and Michael Prince

Mystery reviewer ThomasJacksonWalker agrees about the dialogue (Read his review). He includes some dialogue snippets in his own bantering take on Sam Sleuth.

Directed by Michael Prince, you can’t get any better from such a creative mind. He makes full use of the stage and isn’t afraid to have his actors toss dialogue back and forth across the entire length. And why not? He even joins in the fracas in a housekeeping frock with his own brother that will make you realize why the early British Lords of Bakersfield who migrated to the nearby Rosedale were so flamboyantly brilliant to have around. Selfish plug for a novel—I couldn’t help but think about the humor and irony of it all… film noir Cinema of the Lords entry anyone? Sam Sleuth style?





A special shout out to Suzanne Shmedding who I had the privilege of working with on a local TV show. She’s hilarious in Sam Sleuth, exceptionally funny and has a rubber face like Jim Carey’s that can melt into any form of human emotion imaginable. I don’t know how many years she stared into a mirror practicing contortionist facial expressions, but she’s just hilarious…


The many faces of Schmedding


Facial contortionist or just darn good actress?

Go watch the play. There’s still time left. And there may never be a part deux!

SAM SLEUTH and the FALL of the COFFEE BARON (July 21st-August 26th)
THE GASLIGHT MELODRAMA ~Call (661) 587-3377 for reservations
12748 JOMANI DR., BAKERSFIELD, CA 93312

Read past theatre articles:

N.L. as Queen of the Downtown Fur Rocky Horror Review
The Five Dresses of Queen Kong
The Hobbit
Peter Pan
Why I never wrote about Amadeus
Rocky Horror
Bakersfield Theatre Funny Business

New hardcore punk pizza joint and the race to Endrio at Studio 99 - By N.L. Belardes

Harcore punk at Mama Yasania's

Half of the adventure was trying to find the new Bakersfield punk pizza joint, Mama Yasania’s. I tried an indirect route and ended up on Haley Street. Then I doubled back to Columbus Street—yes in Northeast Bakersfield near the bluffs and Bakersfield College. I found Alta Vista and headed south past the Tam O’Shanter and there it was, Mama Yasania’s, a pizza parlor the perfect size for a punk venue. Inside stood lots of Latino punks. I like that: kids reaching out for individuality as non-conformists, though conforming to a society all their own—and given a place to let it fly—in a safe pizza joint that’s been standing since the 1940s.



Once Mama Yasania’s was a Shakey’s Pizza. Before that, I have no idea. But this rustic old pizza venue has entered Bakersfield as a sometimes punk friendly hangout where the punks aren’t mean at all—just kids who are being themselves. Sure there are big Mohawks and black clothes. Punk gear is worn like Marine regalia—but there’s no war at this pizza joint. It’s just showing off shiny punk medals and hanging out with friends and listening to bands like Freedom Bleeds Chaos.


John Nuño, punk pizza venue owner

In fact, there is a family atmosphere about Mama Yasania’s that I liked. I talked to one of the owners, John Nuño. He mentioned punk shows had been going on at Mama Yasania’s for quite a big chunk of the year and a half they’ve been open, and straight out said, “I like the music,” when asked why he catered to local punk bands.


Tate from Freedom Bleeds Chaos


Sound check...


The back of Big Brandon's hoodie depicts the boys from FBC

Of course I wanted to see youth punk society in action. Freedom Bleeds Chaos guitarist, Tate was sporting a short haircut—much different than when they performed at Frosty King with Dirty Spanglish.


Big John in the house...

I was surprised to see Big John in the house. This guy is everywhere and supports Bakersfield music all the time. Matildakay was also in the house. The band wasn't set up so we disappeared from the pizza venue for a while. We returned on a tip from guitarist Tate. "The band is setting up," he said over the phone. And they were. These kids were mixing it up. Hardcore punks came and went into a side room where the band was about to rock.



“This is a tough crowd,” the drummer yelled after a few songs. The crowd lined the outside of the room where two tough punks looked like they wanted to mosh everyone in the room into butter on the walls. Luckily they didn’t as I took a few shots of the band. My favorite Freedom Bleeds Chaos song was “Apocalypse Now”. Like the rest of their tunes, it was about fast riff chord changes in a punk tempo mixed with lots of cool punk screams.




Perfect Hair Jones screamin' punk goodness...

Big Brandon and Perfect Hair Jones shared the vocals while Tate jumped off a chimney base a few times just to show he’s a punk guitarist with energy. Gotta dig that. Chris pounded away at the drums and had a quick mic adjustment but got right back into the action.

I went and chowed on some pizza, talked to John Nuño some more about events and then boogeyed over to Studio 99 to see if Endrio was about to perform.


Endrio at Studio 99

Studio 99 is an old warehouse converted into a music venue. It sits in the shadows of the Crystal Palace and I wouldn’t be surprised if the ghost of Buck Owens didn’t shoot over once in a while to hear the rock jams of the Bakersfield underground.


Mike M. in the perfect hardcore stance to SCCRREEAM...

Daniel, the big kahuna of Studio 99 stood at the entrance. “Hey, it’s the ballsiest writer in Bakersfield,” he said. One of the members of Endrio was hanging out—he wore a baseball cap. That was Pat the bass player. We shook hands and I met their manager. We talked about their new singer Mike McCormick and what time the band was going onstage. “9:45”.


Scott on guitar and vocals

Crap if I didn’t have to be somewhere right then. I begged for them to start their show late and took off for more adventure as I had to get to Edwards Cinema, then to the Northwest part of town, and then back into the ghost zone of country music legends to catch the end of Endrio’s set.

Talk about a fast trip of zooming down Bakersfield streets. I felt like I had a historic tour of the Mother country after Alta Vista hills, seeing the Marketplace yuppie teenage takeover, and then a trip into the outer edge of Oildale, where the middle class parks itself in a suburbia filled with strip malls, fast food, shopping and cinnamon-covered coffee drinks. Just when is a punk or metal band going to sing about Starbucks?

Right.

I made it back in time to find a crowd of headbangers rocking to Mike M.’s gut-wrenching vocals. Endrio was onstage and showing their metal hardcore talents to the mixed crowd of headbangers and hardcore lovers.


Scott on the left and Mike M. om the far right...



There were a few technical difficulties—this happens, and Mike lost his tone in one song because of monitor static or something, but overall I was headbanging with the rest. Pat’s calm demeanor while on the bass is an energy waiting to explode. I thought he was going to cut loose and jump through the roof.


Check out how calm Pat is... it's almost scary (in middle of photo).

My whirlwind adventure into Studio 99 was worth the trip to catch a few Endrio tunes. Bakersfield metal has room for their sounds that merge with the poppier edge of metal. And I'm not complaining. I'm a sucker for hooks, groove, and the funk guitar and bass blasts that Bakersfield metal is so known for.

None to worry, the working class attitude of Bakersfield metal was still there, right in the heart of Studio 99, in an industrial setting worthy of Bakersfield underground metal... and it screamed...

Theatreaddict.com publishes past theatre disco queen junkie article - By N.L. Belardes

Looks like all the hubbub in theatre disco drama, with all the flashing lights on the Bakersfield dance floor and Aaron Mauldin decked out in his Travolta stare, somehow conjured up one mystery writer, a Thespian Tsarina, a conjurer of boogie words, a Donna Summer of lost theatre Last Dance lust:

I have a confession to make. I am a former theatre junkie.

It all started very innocently, when I was too young to know better. First, a small role in a church play, then a larger one. Then a starting role in a sixth grade melodrama (where I played the villain because there weren’t enough boys in the class). But I wasn’t worried. I was sure I could quit anytime. After all, I wasn’t doing that much—just a skit here and there. Oh, and the occasional walk-on. Nothing to worry about, right?

Read the full article

But why the big anonymous? Get out of your 70's shell, Tsarina. Cause if you wanna dance in the blog scene, people deserve to know who you are.

Nothing wrong with being a theatre-disco queen of the past. Nothing to be ashamed of...

Or is there?

You know, Aaron Mauldin called and thought the article might be from me. Nope... there are several clues that it's not me.

Clue #1: Our anonymous theatre disco queen is leaving two spaces in between sentences. This person learned to type on a typewriter and never made the crossover to the natural kerning after periods on today's computers that only require one space at the end of a sentence (I edited for my page and am a stickler about structure).

Clue #2: There are asterisks next to italics. I would edit out the asterisks. That's double overkill.

Clue #3: Oops. I forgot.

King-Cat Comics creator John Porcellino talks San Francisco Zine Fest - By N.L. Belardes

John Porcellino, one of the organizers for this year’s San Francisco Zine Fest is one of the coolest guys I’ve never met. Local Bakersfield zine library founder Belinda Singleton sent me a link to Zine Fest and I was instantly hooked. Noveltown now has a table to the September 9-10th event at CELLSpace to promote Indie publishing from the Central Valley, to learn about zines for its upcoming literary journal, and to meet all kinds of fascinating Indie publishing people in one of the coolest cities in North America.



I spoke with John Porcellino over the phone after perusing his King-Cat Comics website and reading several interviews John over the years. He’s the same age as me—late 30s, but really isn’t considered an old-timer at all in the zine scene. He’s just another zine artist albeit very popular in the world of zines, and very committed to his art. He sells his King-Cat Comics in many stores across America and Europe and sells subscriptions over the Web that offers subscription numbers higher than 1000. All that for a comic zine that only cost $3.00 US.

Just what is a zine? A self-published work on a small scale? Indie publications that don’t cater to the mainstream? Small presses? Localized literary mags that have an audience but don’t necessarily fill every Borders and Barnes & Noble in America? Perhaps all that and more. Zines are a phenomenon and craze that has a giant following across the globe and is a great way to promote whatever you do. (Learn more)

I’m finding that the idea of a zine allows for low-cost creative expression, and a means for people to read words without just sitting in front of a computer, although zines can just be computer mags. And the popularity of zines? “Zine comes and goes in waves. A lot of people do blogs and websites,” said John Porcellino. “But one of the cool things about printed zines and San Francisco Zine Fest is the community aspect of it—seeing what other people are doing. Getting a hold of them. To me that’s inspiring. You go away charged.”


Image from the 2005 San Francisco Zine Fest

And John is no slouch. He's been creating zines since 1989 and has partnered up with a collective of artists known as Family Style to bring this year's big San Francisco Zine Fest event.

Here's my interview with John:

N.L.: Why are you involved with the 2006 San Francisco Zine Fest? Is it because you’re the old timer on the scene?

John Porcellino: No, I think it’s almost coincidence… Zine Fest was started by Jenn of Starfiend Distro. She did it for a couple of years and left town. Calvin took over in 2005. This year he took a job out of the country, so wasn’t able to finish putting together this year’s event. Kind of last minute. We realized things weren’t coming together. So we tracked down Calvin and he gave us his blessing; so we ran with it. We wanted to keep the momentum going.


N.L.: Why is there a San Francisco Zine Fest?

John Porcellino: Historically San Francisco is a really strong city for underground publishing. There are always a lot of people and a lot of support in this town. So it’s natural that San Francisco would have something like this. The importance I would say it’s a place for people to come out and sell or trade their stuff, or to show to other people what they’re doing… The people who are making books and crafts are right there...

Zines are all about communication. Face to face interaction is where you are really empowering as a zine artist. So many times I've met people I had been writing to for years and finally got to meet them—that’s a personal connection.

For practical reasons, Zine Fest is a place to find the stuff, a place to find an audience…


N.L.: Anti-mainstream? Is that always a constant with the zine scene?

John Porcellino: A lot of people approach zines a lot of different ways. Traditionally you can do something in your zine that’s not commercially viable to a big publisher. There’s an aspect with zines to write about stuff that doesn’t get covered in the main stream media (MSM). Zines can express to different groups of people who might be more underground/marginalized, and can give a voice to a lot of people. I’m not anti-mainstream. It’s more that, stuff I am interested in you find through these types of channels. I don’t think it’s a pre-requisite.


N.L.: Can someone come and learn how to make a zine at Zine Fest?

John Porcellino: Absolutely—you can have people who are 40 years old and been writing their whole lives. You can have 12 year olds, senior citizens doing stuff. There’s no kind of limit of requirement. Generally we do have workshops: screen printing—own covers to books and things like that, or the basics of just how to make a zine. Zine people are pretty open and enthusiastic. It’s a perfect way to find out about zines even if you know very little…


N.L.: How do you build a network of supportive zinesters?

John Porcellino: Doesn’t happen overnight for sure. In my own case, one of my own reasons for doing what I do is because I was shy in social settings. I kind of kept to myself but had so much to express… Through zines I have expressed and communicated with so many people. Sending them all over the world and getting responses from people—that’s really rewarding. Most of my friends I made from self-publishing zines. Some of my very best friends I never even met, I’ve just created a dialogue through corresponding over the years.

The possibility of opening up channels of communication all over is endless… but it’s all about cross promoting the zine.

A lot of people are very happy about just trading zines. That’s the root of a lot of it: a bartering of ideas and creativity. You get home with a big bag of new stuff to read… zinefest is perfect for stuff like that…

*****

Click for a list of exciting creative exhibitors at this year's San Francisco Zine Fest, including Bakersfield's small press, Noveltown.
And thanks to John Porcellino for the interview!

Call for poets and mini-filmmakers! I need submissions! - By N.L. Belardes

I need experimental films... under 5 minutes in length to show August 19th at the Downtown Sculpture and Assemblage Show...

I also need a few poems with an industrial theme. Think: factory-themed assembly line poetry. I will put to film format for proection art piece. submit by Monday, August 14. Must be industrial poems of only 250 words or less. I will take top 3 pieces...

CONTACT: nl@nlbelardes.com


Here's the press release:

Noveltown helps sculpt Bakersfield Art Renaissance through film/poetry

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE - Bakersfield – Noveltown is partnering up again, this time to help bring poetic storytelling and film to Bakersfield’s Downtown Sculpture and Assemblage Show on August 19th & 26th.

Bakersfield Art Rave, in association with MÁS magazine (masbakersfield.com), Bakotopia (bakotopia.com) and Noveltown (www.noveltown.net) brings A.S. Ashley’s army of local artists downtown for a first-of-its-kind show! Known for his controversial, theme-oriented group art exhibits, this “artczar” is pulling out all the stops in offering the largest collection of sculptures, assemblages, and “combines” ever shown in Bakersfield. The future CAPISTRANO’S restaurant (19th and Eye Street ) is providing the space for this 4,000 square foot event; showcasing 15 local artists exhibiting over 80 pieces of artwork.

“For Noveltown, this event brings factory-themed assembly line poetry from the heart of industrial Bakersfield through words and images,” says Melody Saberon. “For our poets, it’s the art of building, discovery and culture change. For Bakersfield, the Downtown Sculpture and Assemblage Show brings more fluidity to culture and the arts. That’s the dream—to help build culture, right?”

Included in the show will be film clips and poetry provided and shown by Noveltown. This cutting-edge offering is just another example of Noveltown’s ever-expanding reach into various aspects of our Arts community as it helps fuse Bakersfield’s blossoming Art Renaissance.

THE DOWNTOWN SCULPTURE AND ASSEMBLAGE SHOW
SATURDAYS~AUG. 19th & 26th~5pm-Midnight~$5 Admission
@ CAPISTRANO’S 1534 19th Street (19th and Eye)

Noveltown (www.noveltown.net) publishes 1-3 books per year, has a new website with a new look, and is proud to be working towards leading the way in publishing in the Southern Central Valley… Noveltown will also be one of the media at the upcoming Yosemite Writers Conference (yosemitewriters.com).
###

Bakersfield theatre funny business - By N.L. Belardes

Aaron Mauldin’s cryin’, Director Roger Mathey is defensive. Matt Munoz is dissed. The Spotlight Theatre is getting potshots from a mystery explosive—he’s some theatre guy who may be a loose cannonball himself. Something about babysitters; something about accusations; something about finger waving back and forth and it’s hurting local theatre like you can’t believe. Bakotopia’s Matt Munoz is caught in the middle and I don’t even think he knows it. It’s starting to turn into a free for all that in a way is all my fault.

I’m still trying to figure out if I’m proud of the whole mess.

OK, maybe it’s not my fault, but surely, someone might as well blame me now for the existence of nlbelardes.com, my Paperback Writer blog, Buck City podcast, all of which inspired Aaron Mauldin to start what he once called, “The nlbelardes.com of local theatre.”

That would be theatreaddict.com.

What is threatreaddict.com? It’s a website, blog and podcast promoting local theatre arts, and a little more. It’s a site that mentions me now and then, even takes a few cheap shots here and there; but it’s all meant to spark local theatre interest. Only Aaron is impatient like me. He’s expecting people to pour out of the woodwork over his media/blogger/information hub sort of website, and it’s just not going to happen any time soon.

So I inspired Mauldin to get started. Yet he mostly rides the fence and doesn’t critique theatre. Truth? Sometimes you lose friends if you bash what they do. His site is so specialized that if he bashes too much theatre he probably fears no one will read threatreaddict.com.

Au contraire.

Maybe people will read more if he’s controversial once in a while. He does go out into the scene and support and that’s worth its weight in gold. Have some guts Aaron, just be careful who you bash. I mean, right now there's someone else bashing in local theatre who needs to throttle himself before trying to throw a noose around other throats.

Here’s more that’s my fault: Yes, I directed Bakotopia director, Matt Munoz to start paying attention to local theatre on Bakotopia. I think I even told Mauldin about Bakotopia and that he needed to integrate with Bakotopia. That’s my fault. Sorry. Sorry everyone! Sorrrrryy! And Matt was informed by superiors to promote a theatre month on Bakotopia. Good move. Include the media.

The art community is learning.

Fusion. Nucleate. Participate. You like that? Matt Munoz teaches me how to rhyme.

OK, I’m not sorry. Now there’s a big hullaballoo about Aaron’s article, “Theatretopia”. Aaron griped and complained just as I have done about a lack of support. Oh yes, I’m guilty of trying to fire folks up for the arts. I’ve ranted, and I’ve raved, and I’ve bitched and moaned. I threatened to close shop, play board games and drink Jarritos with drunken sailors. I threatened to not blog. I cried wolf until I grew a tail. But it did me no good in getting people to show up to my events or other events. Hell, Heath Dobbler called me on it. Damn you, Heath.

I’ve since learned that my blog alone, though it has thousands of readers, does not motivate people to come to events in droves.

Sure, the ‘Stories From Dust’ poetry event was successful. But that was because of the media and all the Russo’s Poets built right into the event. It was a rare successful event that brought people. I think I’ve found the mixture. But that’s beside the point. Success that gets a poet paid, and a bookstore paid, does not necessarily get Noveltown paid except in good press. And so we have to think about how to charge up events to get some money in Noveltown’s pockets so we can publish more works. Got any ideas? I’m listening.

Back to theatre. What’s all the hullaballoo?

Mauldin criticized Roger Mathey’s "The History of Rock and Roll Show" cast. Oh Aaron denies it, but he criticized cast members. I mean, what do I give a shit if Aaron criticizes actors? I just criticized about 25,000 Filipinos and started a conversation that got rather hot. But people talked. And talking is better than silence and division.

But wait, actors are people too. And so are the lighting people, and theatre staff, and… You get the point. What I don’t get is the flat out denial by Aaron Mauldin: “I am definitely not using the History of Rock and Roll or the Spotlight as an example of shortcomings in the theatre community.”

Huh?

Read the first line from Mauldin’s “Theatretopia” piece:

I'm going to take, as an example, the cast of "The History of Rock & Roll." I love you all, so I know you'll forgive me for raking you over the coals.

Yes, he wrote, “raking you over the coals,” a statement that is just as hard to deny as if were I to say, “fuck your mother.” Not that it means the same thing. But I’m in a blunt mood. You can't take it back, or deny. At this point Aaron can only beg a large cast's forgiveness. And they should forgive because talking is good.

Aaron goes on:

I spent some time and money to create a podcast which I think is fun and would probably make anyone who listens to it want to go see your show. I posted a comment on the page of every cast member I could find on myspace, and I was a little dissapointed in the response. Now, I'm not looking for praise. Seriously. What I'm looking for is involvement. Feedback. Email me and tell me it sucked. Tell me what you thought could be better. Tell me I should have interviewed you instead also. Post a link to the podcast in YOUR blog. Play it for your mom. Sorry, I don't get it. The only reason I do this is because I want people to see your show. Why don't you help me?

Beg their forgiveness, Aaron, because you're preaching to the choir. Make flyers, distribute, find an audience, but don't harrass the actors. Why?

We can't blame people if they don't want to be a part of a website.

OK, so Aaron is reaching for help. He wants to fill seats. Hey Aaron, this is Bakersfield. People are complacent. KRAB radio can’t get people to my events or your events. But that doesn’t mean people aren’t trying. It’s the damn complacent people of the community who are at fault, not the actors in a play. Aaron’s example should have been of some schleprock sitting in his house drinking beer and pissing on the family dog for fun instead of going to the local theatre, or going to buy my book.

Assholes. He should be yelling at them for missing out, not on actors for not supporting his podcast.

Think about it. I was talking to a friend in our sister city of Fresno who said something like, “Yeah, in Fresno we can do a book signing and sell 100 books easily.” Now that’s support. In Bakersfield? Try 20 books at a decent book signing. I hate to say it, but Fresno is tapped into literary culture. The people aren’t complacent like they are in Bakersfield about literature. I don’t know about theatre, and I have seen a few packed houses at the Starline and Club Fred for music. So what's wrong with Bakersfield? Is this life as it should be? Culture as it should be? Art support as it should be?

Hey, at least the many many theatres in Bakersfield are still operating. That's success. One or two websites aren't going to change the scene overnight.

Bakersfield culture needs an enema and we’re all either too afraid or not qualified to give it.

Aaron just misdirected his culture-releasing enema.

And then he went on to say that “Matt Munoz laughed and mentioned how he has never heard about any of this stuff, and how the theatre community seems so separate from the music community...and the rest of Bakersfield for that matter…”

And Roger Mathey replied:

I do think this was a really good blog with a good idea behind it and your getting Matt Munoz to notice Bakersfield theater is a plus. But it can't be like he doesn't know. I know Mento Buru gets theatre bulletins that are sent out as much as I get theirs... we can only lead the horse to water but we can't make them drink. If he reads such publications like the Blackboard he would see how much local theater is out there. But his problems are the same problems we have with many people in Bakersfield not even realizing the breadth of talent that exists.

No, Roger, we can’t assume people read the Blackboard newspaper or myspace bulletins. A bulletin on myspace disappears faster than tickets to a Mento Buru show. And that’s if you’re checking the headlines. But I understand Roger’s tactic. He was burnt about Mauldin’s statement, which Roger further rebutted:

I know you mean no malice, but that's why I'm warning you. You act like they do nothing but perform, but they do a lot... it's just not always in your direction. In recent days, some of them have been attacked for writing their stories of Bakersfield theatre.

I just think you picked a bad example and maybe I say that because people have been taking a lot of shots at the Spotlight as of late and I will not stand by it.

I don't appreciate you using any show at the Spotlight as an example of something wrong with the system. We have been busting our humps to promote other theaters in town and getting the word out about theater. Even our staff works at other theaters, helping other shows, and we have had the privilege of getting people from other theaters work with us.

This is why I have issue with your saying most theaters are insular and don't want to share their assets? The Rock and Roll show is another good example of that being a fallacy. We have talent from all over from techies to dancers to singers. We have worked with other theaters, sharing props, costumes, set pieces, and talent. Most of the theaters are doing this now. For you not to see this means you are on the outside and I invite you to come in. I can site examples of the Spotlight working in tandem with the Empty Space, BCT, Gaslight, and Stars in the past few months and vice versa. I can't see too many of us holding on too tightly for personal success because I think we have come to realize that the success of one is dependent on the success of all and we are all going about trying to help each other.

Let’s face it. There’s drama in local theatre, and local theatres are balkanized. But it’s coming together through the media, through this blog, and especially, through local theatre folks working together and cross-promoting what they do. Sure, there’s a lot of bullshit—but that can be used as fertilizer.

Plant the seeds of media and watch it grow. And don't forget the schools. Quit ignoring that schools are the key to theatre support.

As for theatreaddict.com. Aaron has good intentions. But he’s being greedy about readers. If he really wants them he needs to tone down cursing, and enter those schools drama departments. Start an interactive online media program that feeds into the whole drama scene. That’s the only way. Educate the kids when they’re young and when they get college age they will be loyal supporters of theatreaddict.com and all the wisdom Aaron Mauldin spews in blogs and podcasts.

I know my intentions. I’m a novelist blogger, offering an interesting and often controversial view of music, literature, art and news. And in the end I hope to in part develop a fan base, which may not be any more ego driven than theatreaddict.com.

As for Roger Mathey and Matt Munoz? They have since spoke over the phone. No hard feelings. They talked. And so the September theatre promotions on Bakotopia are going to happen. It's more energy for theatre, and you know what? Theatreaddict.com can be right there too handing out promotional stickers or whatever. And me too. It's a community effort.

Don't forget to bring more fertilizer.

(Click for the full drama)

Ghost Hunter Arthur Chilling calls N.L. to talk about voodoo finger - By N.L. Belardes

Ghost hunter Arthur Chilling has been appearing on the Red Eye Radio Show talking about some of his adventures. He recently posted an exciting story about his voodoo finger. And here on Paperback Writer I also interviewed him about his long hiatus from the good folks of Bakersfield:

N.L.: Hi Arthur, so you wrote about your strange voodoo finger that seems to have a life of its own?

Arthur: I just posted it on my website. I've been on the Red Eye Radio Show and I know I mentioned it there to late night listeners. It's kind of a freaky story about how one of my fingers really thinks for itself. Since I was on the Red Eye people have been asking for the true version.

N.L.: What do you mean, the true version?

Arthur: Well some people say that as a ghost hunter I lie a lot. But that just isn't true. I think people perceive the paranormal as a vast lie, a conspiracy, some kind of heegablee-jeegablee ghost story lie. That's weird. Everyone knows the strangest people are those who work in the corporate world for places like banks and law firms. Paranormal at least has the word "normal" in it. What does "lawyer" or "Lawfirm" have in their name? "Law"... and we know law is a messed up word. You know what I mean? So some people say I have different versions of my voodoo finger story.

N.L.: Well don't you?

Arthur: I think people listen wrong. Maybe they didn't hear the story right the first time.

N.L.: And so that's why you call the story on your ghostkids website, "The First Tale of Arthur Chilling's voodoo finger".

Arthur: You know, some stories are sacred. And I tell people these stories so they know a little something about what makes me who I am. It's like you have a block of cheese, and people might think it stinks, but it's really good on a meatball sandwich. You understand, right?

N.L.: Of course I do. People misinterpret me all the time. You of all people know that people consider me a ghost hunter when I'm not really a ghost hunter as much as a novelist on the prowl of interesting stories.

Arthur: Who's doing the interview?

N.L.: Oops. So, Arthur, you're back from an extended... what... a vacation?

Arthur: Oh no, I won't hide behind that illusion. I was on a ghost hunting expedition far outside of Bakersfield.

N.L.: Really? Where did you go? Tibet? India?

Arthur: Try Taft. You ever been there? That's one creepy place! There's a legend that in Taft there are ghosts made completely of petroleum byproducts. And Indian legends claim that old tribesmen built wells just to tap into the lost world of petroleum ghosts. These ghosts were some of the most ancient of wise men and lived among the very fossils of the earth. They are rumored to be so wise that their hidden knowledge is what taught white man how to dig for black gold, and even, how to build the first combustible engines. Legend has it that old contraptions, combustible engines, if you will, were created out of wood and Elk bones--strange little flying engines and motorized gizmos that are now buried deep in the earth. The ghosts are rumored to want to reclaim the oil fields and find their lost technology.

N.L.: Now that's creepy. What did you discover?

Arthur: You'll find out in the coming months as I transcribe the hidden languages and decipher the ghost energy I captured with my multi-field tracker. Look, I have to go feed my weiner dog, Chirpy.

N.L.: Arthur, thanks for calling me today. We're glad to have you back. And say hi to Chirpy...

Arthur: Anytime...

An Excerpt from Arthur Chilling's Voodoo Finger story:

The story of my voodoo finger is actually one that goes back to my early teen years spent as a cabana boy on Barbados. I was lucky to have survived falling in a ditch—really a cemetery grave freshly dug near Graham Hall Swamp. Yes, even as a young boy I was on the trail of ghosts. We called them Obeah. It’s the same as voodoo, but with a little growl in the back of your throat as you say the Obeah word, which is a crazy word to say because it doesn’t mean ghost at all, but ghost people; people who are really alive and not dead at all, but ghost-like..

Anyway, when I fell into that ditch, I mean grave, I landed on a hoe. Seems someone had tossed a hoe right into that ditch along with freshly squeezed tropical birds—popped their heads right off. It’s like someone just invaded the Tiki Room at Disneyland and went totally berserk, sawing off heads while tikis laughed some strange dialect of paranormal secret codes. I think the birds were mostly flamingos, cause they had long necks, and I had been out bird watching earlier in the day with a man who called himself a priest. Yes, he said the word like a snake, “Pri-e-essst,” and I kind of obeyed him without even thinking. I was just a kid after all and everyone on the island seemed to be friends; and I thought he had given me some kind of strawberry lemonade with eyes floating in it. Tasted kind of like Flintstone iron vitamin—kinda chewy too...

Go to Ghostkids.com for the rest of the story...

Critical Mass blog on Vanity Press vs. trend of Indie Publishing companies - By N.L. Belardes

Critical Mass, the blog of the national book critics circle board of directors had a great blog on August 1st, titled, "Why Do Critics Ignore Certain Books?" Rebecca Sloot's entry really separates what Noveltown does from vanity presses. I love the definition of Indie Books brought up by Dick Margulis.

He writes:

...I'd like to offer the distinction here that I did in my email to you: "Self-published" books are really of two types. Vanity presses will print anything, and quality is a real issue. However, there is an emerging class of indie publishers, authors who take on all the responsibilities of publishing a book properly. They establish an imprint, pay an independent editor, hire a designer, pay a compositor, send out review copies, news releases, etc., just like any other publisher. And still these books seem to get tossed over in the corner with the vanity books. It's these indie books that I'd like to see critics look at as a category worthy of more attention.

Right now, that's where Noveltown fits as it continues to set sail into the world of publishing here in the Southern San Joaquin Valley... People need to get it right: Noveltown is here to stay to cross promote the arts, to publish books, and to make a cultural difference.

Stay tuned in the coming weeks for a new Noveltown zine...

Any suggestions for a name? I was thinking ZTown... or ZineTown... suggestions welcome...

Bakersfield blogs roll on... - By N.L. Belardes

There’s always so much going on in local Bakersfield blogs that it’s difficult to keep up at times. If you scroll to the end of my blogs you’ll notice I’ve started up a blog roll (and other sites too) of many Bakersfield and non-Bakersfield related blogs.

There are a few blogs to note—not just specific stories, but blogs where you should become a regular reader. Black dog is obviously one local writer worth repeat visits. He wrote a recent post about Woody of the very old Woody’s Toy Circus titled, “Jealousy: fan mail rears its ugly head.” Woody’s Toy Circus is mentioned in Lords: Part One as the toy store in downtown Bakersfield with the wooden clown head attached. By the way, I have a new homepage with lots of Lords of Bakersfield links.

If anyone has an old photo of Woody’s Toy Circus, please email me at nl@nlbelardes.com so I can post as a little bit of yesteryear…

If you don’t read Black Dog you’re missing out. His autobiographical blog is a journey through Bakersfield’s common and uncommon urban experiences, with glimpses of the 1980s that will make you laugh and cry… His recent entry, “Bobcat in the Bako” is another great read about a mountain lion sighting in the canyon. You must read it, comment, and tell him whether you believe him or not. I share my own Mountain lion vignette in the comments.

Sonicrusk is another fascinating Bakersfield blog, and like Black Dog, has a gritty edge where the writing is just as good as the storytelling content. “The Ballad of Mike Jones” is a must-read post about cigarette smoking in and outside of the military, and is as much of an article of self-healing as it is an informative autobiographical journey of a Bakersfieldian like you and me.

Indigenous Geek offers a great blog photo for his solution to that shitty Bakersfield city slogan, Bakersfield life as it should be. His kindly perspective almost makes you feel that living in the crook of a valley is livable and honestly acceptable.

I changed both the look and perspective on my work blog, ProSoft Technology Talks Industrial Automation. That blog will take more of a media perspective and will enjoy some of the humor of the non-corporate world as I explore corporate-to-trade media relationships and industrial automation controversy. Should be interesting as I’m allowed unprecedented freedom in corporate blogging. But will such freedom last? There you can read how I interact with PROFIblog and Feed Forward—both very interesting bloggers in an industrial automation blogosphere.

I don’t normally write about Dusty as I take a political middle ground on my website. Her slant on It’s my right to be left of center is strategically to the left. But I advise people to read her blog and join in discussions no matter the political affiliations. If I wrote a socio-political blog I would take the middle ground on many issues. I don’t know of any conservative blogs in Bakersfield. If you do, send a link my way… But do read Dusty's words. She's a hard-hitter and I sometimes agree and sometimes just have to grit my teeth and laugh at her tough sense of humor.

Mexican on a Diet is a man on a mission to defeat the ogre of American society" food. He’s got some new layout surprises up his sleeve that he’s hoping to launch in the coming weeks… Read his recent donut post.

Local rockabilly Dusk Devils queen Jenny Angel got a little older on her Blablablog. Same day as Dirty Spanglish. Stop by and give her a belated happy birthday, please. Daddy in a strange land wrote a great piece about kids and grandparents in “Video Killed the Radio Star”. He's an excellent writer too.

While Heath Dobbler promises to finish my book, and Bakosphere linked to a blog entry, The Bakersfield Condor’s Kevin Truelson at least promises to be prolific as he has completely energized The Neutral Zone blog with entries dating back to the beginning of July.

Let’s not forget that local artist Julia Heatherwick blogged about her recent art victory in the Bakersfield Museum of Art Small Works Juried Exhibition. Sorry Ashley... yours is just too big. Whoops, did I write that? Yeah, he had a big traveling art bazaar...

Oh, and honorable mention for the most comments on a Paperback writer blog ever for "Is Americanization the mamao of Delano's Philippine Weekend." 74 comments! Thanks to the Filipino community for expressing their opinions. I'm working on a follow-up to that piece...

Finally for a giggle. Here's a photo tour of the South High class of 1986 reunion that I missed. A big smooch to Lovetta Reid for all the kind invites!

Howard Owens beats the Bakersfield news, while Matildakay creeps in Oleander - By N.L. Belardes

I’m guessing it’s not that Howard Owens was looking for news stories. Stories find us. You have a camera, you’re minding your own business and suddenly cars smash in front of you. Or you see billowing smoke and you catch the aftermath after a car suicidally plummets over the local Panorama bluffs. You even take dramatic photos of stories possibly ignored by the local news.

Yet citizens want to know why they saw a car crash, or why smoke billowed above a summer Panorama Dr. skyline.

Howard has a new camera, and it’s obvious he’s carrying it wherever he goes. Do I wish I captured the news stories Howard captured? No. I’m happy capturing the unique glimpse of life that I offer through a novelist eye view. We all have our own experiences to report.

From howardowens.com:

Friday about noon:

Billie: "What are you going to do today?"

Me: "I don't know. I thought maybe I might drive out to California City."

Billie: "I want to visit the Borax mine."

Me: "It's already noon. If we want to do that, we probably want to spend the night in Mojave."
I then went and took a nap.

We left the house at 2:30, thinking if we made the Borax mine by 4 p.m., we would have time for the tour. If not, we would go to California City first.

On the road, we witnessed an accident. This delayed us an hour.

(Read the rest of the story…)

And there's more drama from Howard Owens:

At about 5 p.m. yesterday, I was heading west on Panorama when I spotted smoke blowing up the bluffs. I figured it was just another grass fire, but after I passed through the smoke wall, I noticed a number of people were looking at something below the cliffs, I decided to stop.

At the bottom of the cliff was a car on fire. Nearby were three people who appeared to be trying to help a person on the ground.

(Read the full story and see dramatic photos: a possible tale of suicide?)

*****

Here’s another Bakersfield story you will find interesting. This from Matildakay who took a walk with a friend in the creepy Oleander area.

A friend and I walked down Oleander Street the other day, admiring houses and trees, having a little ‘girl time’. We walked around Beale Park and stopped to watch kids run and play in one of Bakersfield’s newest city spray parks.

“This is the famous Oleander Street of that Lords: Part One book,” I said as we continued.

“Oh really?”I had loaned her my copy of Lords: Part One by N.L. Belardes and she had just read about the big 1977 dust storm.

“So that was the park where Minstrel and the other kids were hanging out?” She asked.

“Yeah.”

“Whoa! This is weird,” she whispered. “I feel like I’m walking inside the story I’m reading.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of neat to be somewhere a book was written about.”

“I wonder which house is Simon Sundale’s big creepy mansion?” She asked as we passed by some of the street’s mid-20th Century houses.

“I think it’s that one,” I said, pointing to a huge house with a wrap around porch on the corner of Oleander and Chester Lane.

“That place does look creepy.” She stopped across the street from the house and stared.

After a few minutes we noticed something odd about another house.“Does that front door have curtains hung over it?” I asked. (Click to see photo)

“Yeah it looks like it,” she said.

“How strange!”

“Very.”

“I think it’s an interior decorating faux pas to hang curtains over your front door on the outside of your house,” I remarked.

She nodded.

“What would make a person do that?” She asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Either they ran out of things to decorate on the inside of their house or they’re hiding something.”

“Weird.”

“Definitely weird.”

“Is that a valance and a rod iron decorative curtain rod?” I asked as we crept closer for a better look.

“Oh my! The lady that lives here must be crazy! Who hangs curtains over their front door?” She exclaimed.

“Look there’s a note on the mailbox,” I pointed out.

“What’s it say?”

I snuck over to the mailbox to read the note while my friend kept watch.

DOOR UNLOCKED ENTER QUIETLY ABSOLUTELY NO SOUND I read the sign aloud.

“This is creepy! Look I have goose bumps!”

(Read the rest of Matildakay's creepy Oleander story)

Hectic Films records controversial casting call for Cinema of the Lords - By N.L. Belardes

I never knew casting calls could be so difficult.

Check out representatives from the Hectic Films team as they sift through Bakersfield talent for a film related to the Lords of Bakersfield controversy. Are the perfect actors and actresses out there for their contribution to Cinema of the Lords? Are Hectic Films the Lords of the Bakersfield Cinema? I love how they even toy with the music from the video promo for the contest... Watch on as these Hollywood elitists rule over puny little actors as if they are mere playtoys in their quest to show up the competition...

They're not afraid to try and win $500-$1000 bucks, or more....



And while you're at it, go watch this short horror flick titled, Monster. It gave me the chills.

INVASION!!? Call for mini films! - By N.L. Belardes

Original art by N.L. Belardes for upcoming art show promo

The invasion cometh to downtown's Capistrano's August 19th and 26th. Will you be ready? The Downtown Sculpture and Assemblage Show is presented by Bakersfield Art Rave and Noveltown...

More info coming soon...

NEED: Mini-films... If you have a ONE-MINUTE trailer for your entry to Cinema of the Lords, or just 1-2 minutes of creepy film (no profanity, but creepiness is OK) we will promote you!

Submissions will be part of a projection art piece at the show on August 19th only! The Cinema of the Lords promo is the only piece slated to be projected. Yours can be included. Contact nick@noveltown.net ASAP. Don't miss out! More promos coming soon on this huge event at a brand new venue!

It's more than a spaceship invasion. You can't duck culture change!

Buckle up Buckaroo, the ghost of Buck is watchin’ you - By N.L. Belardes

Buckaroo Dave Wulfekuehler at Buck Owens' Crystal Palace

Every time I go back to Buck Owens’ Crystal Palace I can’t help but feel I’m in one of the most sacred places in all of Kern County. It’s a big music hall, sure. But it’s also the culmination of a famous country musician’s dream—and the dream didn’t die—though in death, respects were paid right there on the dance floor. Yeah, there was Buck’s big casket, and some of his 1960s #1 country hits playing in the room—and thousands of flowers. I wrote about the lady with the black hat that day as she shed a tear while looking onto Buck’s resting body… (hear an interview with Dave on Buck City)




You can feel the spirit of Buck Owens in this historic venue

I was there last night because I was simply having the itch to go back. I get it all the time—the craving for the Crystal Palace—like if you don’t go you’re going to miss out on history. Matildakay and I stopped in for some pie and to hear a few songs from the Buckaroos. She said, “When I come here I always get in touch with my country music past. I know all the words to these songs.”

We sat at the bar and munched on apple crumb ala mode.


Dave takes a break...


The Buckaroos perform Buck Owens classics


Tryin' to remember that one beat...

Then I went over took some photos of Buckaroos drummer Dave Wulfekuehler. Dave didn’t see me, but I watched as he smiled, laughed, played the drums and had the time of his life. And you know what? I think he really was. That’s the heart of Dave, one of my biggest supporters, not to mention an all-around humanitarian and tennis champ.

I will say that Dave wrote some comments on my site recently that really moved me. I won’t say what they were, but his heart poured through and I had my own related story that I thought about which made for a sad heartfelt moment of understanding.






Lovers listen to the Buckaroos

But last night was joyous. The ghost of Buck was smilin’ down on the room while Dave pounded the drums, and while the rest of the Buckaroos with images of Buck on the big screen behind them, didn’t play like they were in a cold museum. They performed like a great group of country musicians and singers, yes, without their leader for now, but just as entertaining as ever. It’s moments like these you realize it wasn’t ever just about Buck Owens. It was also about the people he carefully selected to surround himself with: successful, talented, family-oriented, and loyal. And with genuine smiles.

The enigma of arrival: was a novelist born at the coffeehouse? - By N.L. Belardes

It’s been a long time since I thought of the V.S. Naipaul novel, The Enigma of Arrival (1988). V.S. Naipaul—ethnic Indian born in Trinidad. As a boy, an avid young swimmer, agile, island-smart, colonized into a world of island poverty. He becomes a writer, born into a post-colonial British life to inevitably create a discourse of suppressed, and mostly autobiographical histories in novels and short stories of his era; oh yes, British educated, and later traveled the world to trek among the very suppression he would unwind into a most perfect prose—and feeling dislocated from his Indian past, and never quite comfortable with his British planting—even within a stone’s throw it seems, of Stonehenge.

In The Enigma of Arrival his main character is loosely disguised as himself. He is always arriving at philosophic crossroads, familiar, yet untrodden, and his reflections are a disquieted path, puzzling, worn and yet not, with feet almost seeming to move like an old wind slowly poured downhill along a rocky path—in a gradual decline.

Yet, I never read The Enigma of Arrival for the story. I read it for the sentences. Ah, Sir Vidiadhar Surajprasad Naipaul is a Nobel prize winner in 2001 “for having united perceptive narrative and incorruptible scrutiny in works that compel us to see the presence of suppressed histories." I have been reading his works since the late 1990s; once again, mostly for the sentences (another of his works: A Way in the World).

What do I mean?

If you’re a writer and you discover a specific author’s sentences as natural and soothing as a breath of ocean salt air, then you have found something special. You have found reference works for a lifetime, obstacles to achieve and overcome—if perfection in your craft is what you seek. And so I pick up The Enigma of Arrival now and then and read passages so as to fill my lungs with someone else’s breath. After all, he was breathing when he created such words of breaths and exhales, pauses and commas and periods, verbs and phrases.

Prior to The Enigma of Arrival I read what I think is one of the most important works any writer could ever read: Sir Vidia’s Shadow (1998) by Paul Theroux. It is a book of such emotional charge for a writer that it can only propel a propensity for understanding the written word—for writing, I believe is not just about the craft—it’s about the relationships with those who mentor the craft. I continue to firmly believe that writing is sometimes having the ability to learn the nuances within the personalities of those who teach, live, and breath writing. It’s not just about sentence structure, though at times it is—a certain enigma.

Now, if you’re at all interesting in the craft of writing, you’re wondering…

Wondering is good!

Sir Vidia’s Shadow details the relationship behind a writer and mentor. Paul Theroux is a writer of immense volumes of fiction and travel narratives. Reading any of his works are journeys into culture and geographical zones that you or I may never visit. And Sir Vidia’s Shadow is no different, except that it describes a 30-year mentor-student relationship and falling out between V.S. Naipaul and Paul Theroux. Paul Theroux, the young Peace Corp teacher/writer in Africa, and stumbling into the path of V.S. Naipaul, who on his own path befriends a young Theroux. And the relationship goes from there.

The novel is exquisite. You learn from such a work. You grow—if you’re a writer. And why do I write about all of this talk? Must have been the enigma of the moment at a local coffeehouse yesterday. I met Ann Beman, local kayaker/writer from Kernville who wasn’t sure if she was a novelist, although she knew she was a writer.

Puzzled?

She’s writing a story for Bakersfield Magazine—a piece about Mexican art in dance, poetry, theatre… I mistook her for wanting to learn about fine art as well, for Mexican-American art affects all of these areas within Bakersfield: dance, theatre, music, film, poetry, literature, and media (MAS magazine has a very artistic slant in my opinion and much growth potential).


An interview at a local coffeehouse.
Believe it or not, she is interviewing me.

I brought A.S Ashley with me and he went ahead and spoke about specific local Latinos in fine arts. You see, we seem to speak more in generalities in Bakersfield. We’re Latino, or Hispanic (Unless you talk to Chencho—he will give you an earful about specific Latino cultures within Bakersfield Latino culture and a possible media slant towards Mexican-American culture in Bakersfield). At the Immigration marches, though there were displays of many flags, one couldn’t just simply discern an Ecuadorian, Puerto Rican or El Salvadorian apart from a Mexican-American while in the long march tail chanting "Sí Se Puede!"


Ann Beman's notebook...

It’s difficult explaining cultural manifestations of art in Bakersfield. Yes, there is a Bakersfield Renaissance in art that fuses artistic mediums with media. No, I couldn’t possible begin to understand all of Latino art in Bakersfield. For instance, who are all the Latino poets? I couldn’t tell you. I can make some guesses as to some of them. But most lurk in the shadows, are tucked away into their homes, in social groups I have no contact with; in college circles, in pairs here, or half a dozen there. I may never have an answer. Ann Beman may never have an answer. I did talk about my politicized poem “Immigration Interrogation” that I wrote for the May 1, 2006 Day of Action...

And we talked about what may happen for this year’s Day of the Dead in Bakersfield as well. We want to fuse culture and art—we want celebration and remembrance on an entirely new cultural level. Can that happen? You never know when N.L., A.S. Ashley and Matt Munoz smash their brains together…


Art curator A.S. Ashley talks Assemblage Show

Ashley wanted to talk about artists and the new downtown venue about to open, Capistrano where his big B.A.R. (Bakersfield Art Rave) “Downtown Sculpture and Assemblage Show” on August 19th and 26th offers to be one of the largest art shows ever in Bakersfield. Yes, it’s that big with an upstairs and downstairs… oh yes… Noveltown is going to help promote the show and also have an entry that projects videos on a wall.


Ann listens to Ashley's latest art rave rant...

I wondered if talking about the assemblage show fell outside of the current focus of Ann Beman’s article. Didn’t matter. It was all educational. And she’s from Kernville. Must be difficult to write an article about art scene culture in Bakersfield when you’re not even a city boy like us…

We moved on to talk about the creative writing, and about social networks. And while we conversed there was the the enigma of the coffeehouse moment coming from a possible epiphany from Ann Beman herself. Is she just a writer? Or is she also a novelist.

Perhaps the enigma of her arrival on Paperback Writer will eventually answer that…

Too much to do? Supporting the local arts for dummies - By Greg Goodsell

This is my new mantra for the Bakersfield art scene. Greg Goodsell defines the sport of being an artist and art connoisseur in the Bakersfield art scene... -n.l.


Too much to do?
Supporting the local arts for dummies

By Greg Goodsell
E-mail: gregoodsell@hotmail.com


Sometimes this is all that is left of a dummy...

Within the artistic communities of Bakersfield and Kern County, there are rumblings of discontent. Chief among these complaints is that there isnt enough local support to keep things going. The Bakersfield Californians response to seven professional and semi-professional theaters in town was to simply stop covering them altogether. Happily, such Web sites as Theatre Addict (www.theatreaddict.com) as well as this fine publication (nlbelardes.com's Paperback Writer) came rushing in to fill the need for comprehensive media coverage. However, there are misgivings among actors, artists and musicians that one cultural event is stepping on the toes of another cultural event; taking away much needed revenue and exposure. It would appear that for the first time in Bakersfields history -- that there is finally too much to do!

However -- an awful lot of people who could benefit -- or should attend concerts, plays and art shows are staying at home to watch reruns of "Desperate Housewives" on TV. This has got to change! This writer has outlined various ideas that Joe and Jane Six-Pack can put into action to enrich our local culture.

1. ADOPT THE POLICY THAT ART CAN BE FUN. Close your eyes and meditate on the word "art." Ill just bet you thought of precious, impressionistic paintings in watercolor and pastels accompanied by dreary chamber music. Now, theres nothing wrong with impressionistic paintings and chamber music, but art is so much, much more. Art is the guitar solo on your favorite song on your favorite radio station played full blast as you tool down the highway. Art is the cryptic comic strip in a newspaper that due to its shadings and nuances makes you laugh out loud while others dont get the joke. Art is the crummy low-budget musical or crime movie you watch over and over again on battered VHS tape in lieu of catching the latest theatrical blockbuster. Art talks to you, art makes you stop dead in your tracks, art never really identifies itself as such.

One criminally under-reported gallery showing at the Empty Space Theatre was the Destructo Art Show. This highly unusual exhibit featured TV sets and computers smashed and riddled with buckshot and splattered with red paint. The effect was exciting, primal and alive; much more so than any splatter film. Art is challenging, visceral and dynamic -- or not at all.

2. ART GIVES YOU YOUR BEST ENTERTAINMENT VALUE. The majority of art exhibits are absolutely free and Bakersfields Empty Space Theatre has been successfully offering a wide variety of plays on a strictly donation basis. Theres no excuse not to take advantage of all this gratis entertainment.

One shining example was a poetry reading that I participated in. The event was in a beautiful, spacious building with air conditioning, with tons of free food and wine (quite a bargain for you budget imbibers out there). This reading was totally free and just a handful of people showed. At the same time -- hundreds of people jammed the Downtown Street Faire two blocks away in 104-degree heat, spending lots of money on food and trinkets. It was strictly their loss.

And single guys and gals? The people who show up at cultural events have a bit more on the ball -- and have a lot more to offer than the folks down at the corner cocktail lounge. Check it out!

3. YOULL NEVER KNOW UNLESS YOU TRY IT. Poetry isnt your bag? Zydeco music too exotic for you? A play about feminist issues appears to be too hoity-toity for a macho man like yourself? You'll never know if you dont check it out! Be daring and adventurous!

Recent examples of local plays that attracted big crowds were the plays "Toulouse" and "The Vagina Monologues." "Toulouse" was daring and spicy with its recreations of classic burlesque routines, but was still moored in documenting an American theatrical art form. Crowds were thoroughly entertained by a show that was anything but dry and academic. Many guys were put off by "The Vagina Monologues" thinking it would be feminist claptrap. The lucky gentlemen who did see the show were instead regaled with funny, sad and highly erotic tales recited by an all-female cast.

A personal treasure trove of entertainment lies in browsing books by local authors at Russos Books. Some of these tomes are laughably amateurish, but youll be surprised at some of the colorful fiction and local histories there are available.

What if you go to an event and you dont like it? Theres a lot of inherent entertainment value in a bad play, terrible art show and a wretched musical performance. Well get to that later.

4. THROW CAUTION TO THE WIND AND PARTICIPATE. Ever have a yen to sing in front of others, no matter how flat you think you sound? Ever have some poetry you scrawled on a slip of paper that you wanted to share with the world and didnt have the nerve? Ever thought your attempts at painting were good enough to share with the world? Jump in with both feet forward! The local artistic community is very nurturing and supportive to newcomers and dabblers. The excitement surrounding a play that you act in, an art show with your work and a local publication featuring your writing adds immeasurably to the excitement of your workaday world!

As for myself, I was asked to participate in an art show on the subject of "Spirit Dolls." As the show rolled up, I hadnt prepared anything when it struck me that I could just take a stuffed bunny rabbit and affix a toy gun in his lap. The piece garnered serious attention from all places, The Bakersfield Californian. Many people afterwards told me that it was their favorite piece in the show. Ah, ego is everything.

5. A THING OF BEAUTY IS A JOY FOREVER. Here we get to the nitty gritty. Many of our local artists are leading hand-to-mouth lives, with very little monetary recompense to aid in their efforts. Yours truly is a man of very modest means, but I find enough money to buy paintings from local artists now and then, and now boast an eclectic art collection. I justify these purchases by the fact that I consider myself an artist (with a small "a") and its vital to show monetary support for other local artists.

When it comes to buying art, I let my personal tastes guide me. If there is a piece I like that is reasonably priced, I buy it. I never, ever buy art that I dont like on the basis that the artists phone is about to be disconnected (no art welfare) and I never buy a piece that is outside of my budget. Ive scored some really great paintings and sculptures for under $100 and they proudly adorn my home. I think a piece of art scored at that price will have a lot more lasting value than a night on the town I will dimly remember a month later. Plus -- theres always the chance that they may accrue in value. Ill never forgive myself for not scooping up more original artwork from punk rock cartoonist Raymond Pettibon back in 1981. His work now commands a minimum of $10,000 today!

6. ARTISTS ARE YOUR FRIENDS. People in the artistic and cultural community tend to be more energetic, more joyous and more vibrant than the people you interact with at work or in the bars. I count musicians, painters and writers as some of my best friends. Artists like doing things. They go in search of things that excite them and share them with others. Major in "show and tell" in elementary school? Become a part of the local artistic community.

And now -- in a very important step that is sure to stir up controversy -- that some people would advise against but I endorse whole-heartedly --

7. DONT SETTLE FOR SECOND BEST. Watching a dramatic production that is unintentionally hilarious? Laugh out loud! Show up to see a band and they're over half an hour late? Stamp out angrily! See a painting that your three-year-old child could do much better? Let the artist know! Tired of diva-like behavior from minimally talented prima donnas? Dont kowtow to their demands!

Yes friends, if you show your support and don't like what you see -- let the people responsible know. It may hurt their tender egos, but they can't keep putting out crap. Art can't exist without an audience, and the audience must participate. No one benefits when more and more inferior art is produced, and the passive viewer suffers in silence, eventually leading to more empty theatres, nightclubs and galleries. The artist -- as well the audience -- must grow.

Purple Glove author Bonnie Hearn Hill gets interviewed on Authorlink for If It Bleeds - By N.L. Belardes

Bonnie Hearn Hill got the power of purple
from none other than the Swami...

I’m all about celebrating the valley arts. In case you didn’t know, it’s not just about Bakersfield. It’s about connecting the arts through the valley. I read fresnofamous.com, I chat it up with the homeboys of Dorktown.net, and I try to get to know writers like THE SWAMI (I got her books in the mail today! Now I can find out who I really am!), Cindy Wathen, Russo’s Poets, and the Purple Glove Author herself, Bonnie Hearn Hill.

I have an interesting friendship with Bonnie. She writes novels like some people have nose bleeds. Words pour out of her at any given moment—sometimes maybe even through her nose, definitely through some kind of capillary hormone brain-to-finger reaction. Oh I don’t mean to be macabre, but the name of her brain-splattering new book coming out is, If It Bleeds.


1st in a trilogy - Mira Books

Is that too much red for you?

Stop for a moment and don’t get all fidgety. Bonnie is cool, and as a writer/artist you can learn something from her. Just tune into this fresh kill In The Bleed author interview… She gives writing tips, talks about her book, and genuinely does not come off as a serial killer or anything. She’s hip and you’ll dig the interview.


I imagine that writing for Bonnie Hearn Hill is a delicate
process of putting on the gloves and leaving no trace
of where her literary mind has been... think about it,
would YOU want to go there?? (See Bonnie in purple gloves)

Now you’re probably wondering just what kind of intellectual conversations I have with my new found writer friend. Oh don’t be so pish-posh. We have a flashy literary way we speak in codes. Don’t believe me? Try reading between the lines in this FREE ending to a book I offered Bonnie just yesterday…

N.L.: And then Billy Jo stopped the car. He got out, spit at an old diaper sitting in the gutter and wondered why Flannigan had taken such a big bite from the avocado burger. He'd choked on it, plain and simple. Didn't he foresee that very mornin' such a terrible bug-eyed end? Flannigan had watched the big bullfrog floppin' and shakin' as it got a hairy caterpillar caught somewhere in its big wide throat. He had even smiled as it gasped, kicked out a slippery floppy leg and let out a sound as if six-month-old moldy Tupperware had just been pried open. That's the end sometimes—just a slimy kick in the dirt. Billy Jo walked down the sidewalk. He took a small bite from a cheese sandwich and wondered why people like Flannigan had to choke at all. He wasn't goin' back. The keys were in the ignition, and that was OK.

Yeah, it’s top secret. We literary folk plan on dominating the world through secret coded messages.


Stretch your imagination, Bonnie. Try more colors!

Here’s more:

N.L.: I hope it's a boy named Lionel. Oh yes, I listened to the interview. Funny how it sounds word for word just like my interview with you... Just kidding. Damn, I need better questions... my next interview with you promises to throw you off guard.

Bonnie: I'm hoping for a girl named __________, which is the name of my car. _____ and I name our vehicles. ________ is called _________. My cat's name is ________.

(as if I could betray such names)

N.L.: If I had a car right now I'd name it Shizzalicram Spongecrab III. And I'd hang little crabs from the rearview mirror and find seat covers that had lobsters on them. I'd put stuffed sea crustaceans in the back window and let them fade as if somehow the back of the car were a dying sea bottom. Sometimes I would dress in red and wear red gloves and antenna and throw tiny plastic eggs out the window as if I were releasing into a wide sea current. Later I'd pick many of them back up because I couldn't afford to keep buying them.

Or I'd just name my car Bob. And grow a gay moustache.


This isn't Bonnie. But that's a tasty fish. And all done
with a scale-covered Donny Osmond hand finish...

It’s all part of an other worldy master plan.
Celebrate Valley Literature! And if you're a writer, don’t forget to listen to her interview.

Will the Lords of Bakersfield ever spring to life? - By N.L. Belardes

Murder or suicide of Glen Fitts?
All images on this page from 2003 Bakersfield Californian report,
"The Lords of Bakersfield"

Although I still won’t tell people about Lords: Part Two other than vague references here and there, I haven’t written about the topic of the Lords of Bakersfield for some time. I feel another Op-Ed follow-up is due... I told one local punk rocker where part two begins—not in Bakersfield, Hollywood, LA or the Central Valley. You’ll have to track him down for such info (whoever ‘he’ may be), and I might just deny what I told him even if he does spill the beans.

I will say the beginning to Lords: Part Two is an important logical path to what I think follows the urban myth of the Lords of Bakersfield: murderous and prominent Bakersfield men leading dualistic hidden gay lives as they preyed on society to fulfill illegal aims of sex and immorality. Their path in part two? As they attempt to keep themselves transparent to society, their plan is to turn the eyes of society inward. Will Minstrel be in part two? You know it…

It is important again for me to note that time periods for Lords Part One and Two fall between 1977-1981. And although I have received messages that state those years are not long ago, I disagree, it is long ago, especially when you think in terms of disaster movies like Flight 93 and World Trade Center subverting pop culture less than five years after the tragedy of 9/11. Think about Apocalypse Now—that film smashed into pop culture with its diatribe of Vietnam meets the eerie seafaring world of novelist Joseph Conrad—a mere four years after America’s controversial pull out from the war-torn region.


Possible Lords murder victim, Dana Butler

I won’t, however, write about events after 1981, like Murder Incorporated, or rumors that exist now about Ed Jagels and other prominent Bakersfield folks who allegedly still harbor boy toy fascinations, potentially degrading our Bakersfield youth. If the local paper wants to write about such topics, or about Chris Hillis and the Tauzer murder case, then let them. There are always going to be creepy old gay men in society that abuse their powers to get kids to help them fulfill their lust fantasies. And there are always going to be cops and ex-cops that lose control. Doesn’t mean I have to write about them, or that they are even a part of the Lords of Bakersfield conspiracy. And doesn’t mean I have to prod into recent events, especially with knowing the creepy defense of the Harper family slayings. Who knows… Maybe Vincent Brothers committed murder. Maybe bad cops were in the mix. Perhaps the Lords of Bakersfield were somehow running the show. I’m not even going to speculate in detail; I have other novels to explore. Besides, I start digging and I could end up like the Harper family: killed either by a psycho, or by cops for prying too deep into overturning mean justice.

I don’t think fictionalizing the Lords of Bakersfield 25 years after some of their alleged macabre events regarding a certain young man at the time does any harm, or weeds creepy old men from the shadows to wantonly wreak a newfound wrath over Bakersfield.


Citizens speak out against one of alleged Lords

On the contrary. Such storytelling illuminates and helps ease societal fears, lends validity to the storytelling and myth-making. Folks can sit back and breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that it’s OK to have kept secrets, and to not just whisper about them, but talk about them. Society can suddenly deal with a possible traumatic past because of pop culture analyzing such tragedy—especially in fiction form.

No need to be afraid of ghosts when everyone knows they’re there, right? Boo!

And let me point out that I am not a conspiracy theorist. I’m a novelist who wrote about conspiratorial articles released by Bakersfield’s local newspaper. That would make the newspaper, its publisher, involved journalists and editors the conspiracy theorists, not me. And my book being allegedly redundant by a "wild-eyed conspiracy theorist"? That's just their attempt to dust my book under the rug. I’ve already explained in a past article ("A literary perspective on the Lords of Bakersfield") that if my book is ignored, then everyone might as well accept the high school level writing of local newspapers, and their story as the finality of gospel truth, and not the academic integrity of literature and a possible history of such events to come (Not by me. I’m not interested in the non-fiction book).

Interestingly at the time that conspiracy journalist Robert Price wrote his dusting-under-the-rug blurb in the local paper, he admitted to not even reading my book.


Glen Fitts, an alleged Lord of Bakersfield

Right. The leading Bakersfield conspiracy journalist on the trail of the Lords of Bakersfield ignores my book on The Lords of Bakersfield as if it were a frivolous paper weight?

I don’t think so. I think he scoured it for more evidence of the Lords of Bakersfield and attempted to play head games with me by jokingly calling my book redundant without reading it. Or is he that full of himself that he thinks he uncovered every stone.


Was publisher Ted Fritts the Lord of Bakersfield?

Thank goodness Columbus took the Book of Winds with him when sailing the ocean blue, and thank goodness I pursued my book my way, or I would have fallen off the edge of the earth with Price’s articles in my hand.

History has yet to really explore the Lords of Bakersfield. Who knows when that will happen? Or who will do it.

In regards to the body of knowledge now surrounding the Lords of Bakersfield myth: Have I claimed to be the end all in exploring the Lords of Bakersfield? No way. Everyone who has written about the Lords of Bakersfield contributes to an overall body of knowledge; whether non-fiction, or pop culture’s reflection of the facts revolved around the myth. Why myth? Because nothing about the Lords of Bakersfield is proven. Just maybe the local newspaper released conspiratorial articles to taint a jury pool in the Tauzer murder case. After all, there has been a war of words between conspiracy journalist Robert Price and Ed Jagels.

Is the real question then: what was the intention of the newspaper to release such articles? Were they used as tools to taint a jury pool, to educate readers of local myth, to scare citizens into believing straw men exist, to paint a past publisher as an evildoer, to gain more readership through controversy? Who knows? Maybe all of the above and more. True intentions of newspapers are often just as suppressed as newsworthy stories. I really doubt if conspiracy journalist Robert Price interviewed hundreds in his investigative report as the articles claim. I’d love to see his notes. Yet the local newspaper wanted to express such claims for the purpose and sake of credibility to its readers, and readers across the globe interested in the subject.

Yet my novel and the local paper’s release of the Lords of Bakersfield story have one similar aim: to perpetuate a myth, and to try to find solutions and resolutions that could lend to how society could explain and understand the kind of evil-doing that can affect those in its own midst—whether true or not. Yes, we all need resolution our myths.

Really, both newspaper stories and my novel are fiction. Not the facts behind the newspaper stories (at least we hope the facts are always true) but perhaps the conspiratorial glue holding the facts together. It’s that the glue of the news stories lacks facts, and refuses to resolve for the readers an answer as to whether the Lords of Bakersfield exist or not. The newspaper wants the readers to decide, to gossip, to sit around their kitchen tables and work cubicles and whisper and debate. Why? Why couldn’t the newspaper resolve the Lords of Bakersfield for us? Because they want us to believe, or to doubt? Or both? And maybe they never want us to resolve such issues, so jury pools are forever tainted in related cases.

I created a novel that attempts suspension of disbelief—the idea of a psychological manifestation of sickening thoughts—much more disturbing to the readers—and with a similar end result of ‘what if?’ It’s just that my novel, though fiction, dives into the consciousness of Bakersfield that the atmosphere the Lords of Bakersfield might have subverted. That consciousness affects the reader without a straight-faced journalism bent on the topic, though I have also gone into detail how interesting it is that the local paper mimicked the Lord of the Rings font to ram home their idea into the gossip-consciousness of Bakersfield society (and beyond). Pop culture popularity can infect and subvert a news story of such conspiracy proportions: the imagery of monstrous evil and secret networks lurking within a Bakersfieldian Middle Earth of land toilers—yes we’re just a bunch of fuzzy-footed Hobbits to the local newspaper: eating and drinking and merry—until what, a Frodo comes along to carry the ring right back into the newspaper’s hands?


The actual newspaper logo that headlined the story.
Do you feel like a Hobbit?

I think they’d actually like me to cast my book into the fiery chasm of Mt. Doom.

In the realm of creepiness surrounding the myth, there are strange stories. I get enough emails to fill up section C for my own newspaper. Let’s call it the CREEP section, and it could have a new article everyday, with minor sports reports added in for good measure. Let’s just say I have encountered plenty of strangeness through hearsay, rumor, and emails from people claiming to have known the Lords of Bakersfield.

Doesn’t make the Lords of Bakersfield any more or less a reality for me. I just think of such stories as good storytelling. Near Akron Ohio there’s the town story of the Peninsula Python, a mythical snake seen like an apparition, slithering around the Eerie Canal and Ohio River. There’s a sculpture façade in their town library. But did the snake exist? Rumor has it a Circus Train lost a big snake years ago. Today, the Peninsula Python simply lurks in children’s nightmares, or in the minds of those walking in the strange woods.

Sure, Bakersfield has it’s own snakes with stories of the Lords of Bakersfield slithering through the public consciousness, shaking rattles, and literally scaring people into corners—people afraid of a venomous bite. But hell, people eventually do tell stories and the myth gets perpetuated.

Cinema of the Lords will be an interested collection of online sculptures—filmmaker interpretations of fanciful Tim Burtonesque nightmares of our own dark Bakersfield culture—a fashionable couture of creepiness for our society to wear, for outsiders to peer in and say, “Interesting top hat of nightmares you have going on there in Bakersfield.”

The myth will be perpetuated even further.

Almost makes us proud of our pop culture evil, doesn’t it? Why not? The newspaper was when they touted their Lords of Bakersfield of the Rings news stories.

Getting cryptic emails isn’t new to me. I used to get them during my research for Lords: Part One. Once you interview a few strange folks, the letters just sort of just begin creeping in like zombies from Night of the Living Dead—they just keep coming and slashing their way into my inbox.



Yes, you can buy a survival guide. But that doesn’t keep them away. Just gives you tools in how to deal with the consciousness of the myth as people write their thoughts. There’s been the story of the family who lost their grandfather. He wandered around early in the morning hours, saw some strange cars, and eventually was found dead. The family thinks the Lords of Bakersfield had something to do with it. No proof.

There are letters about people with creepy tattoos and medallions—a cult of darkness with ghost kids to match over in Westchester of yesteryear. And of course the letters just read, “Beware of what you might learn.”

Heck, there were even some creepy people testing my knowledge at book signings. How much do I really know, and am I going to tell all… Why act so paranoid? Are there hidden truths? People have said, “You won’t ever really know the truth. They won’t let you get in that close.” Retired and ex-cops have said that to me.

Such statements don’t prove that boogeymen peer in my window at night.

Does that make me fear my phones are tapped? Should I fear the Lords stories are true because one person overheard a creepy conversation: “Is the Lords book hard or soft?”

“It’s soft,” came the reply at the Petroleum Club.

What, was someone wondering if my book was pornography? Or if I had penetrated to the hard dirt of the story? Scratching against such knowledge could be the most revealing, eh?

Tap my phones. I don’t care. My conversations are less exciting than my blogs.

It’s like I tell people: If the Lords of Bakersfield do exist, these guys are having a field day with me. They’d probably take me to dinner if they weren’t ghosts—and conspiracy journalist Robert Price would be there too—and where they’d thank him for his Middle Earth saga, they’d thank me for perpetuating their myth to the level of comedy.

Although my book is a horror novel that scares the shit out of people, I’d like to think that if society can’t eventually make fun of itself, then there’s the real problem, not whether the Lords of Bakersfield will ever spring to life.


Get all the articles you need on the Lords of Bakersfield...