Off the California coast, sits a small town split by the Pacific Coast Highway and in this town actually stood a salmon colored Victorian home where a not so young couple first learned how to trust.
This was my second marriage. I was in my forties with a divorce under my belt, a job I hated, and then this woman comes into my life making games of my fears. She came from a world I had never known, one that wasn’t so cruel and dangerous.
We married and travelled our little corner of the world together just before the 2008 recession hit, causing a career I thought I had built for myself to crumble just as a dream I had always denied became my only option.
And I think the only thing that held us together, that held me together during that difficult time was trust. Trust isn’t something you see too much of anymore. It’s been replaced by confirmation, notarization, and security codes. But, without trust, I would never have even met Vicky, she and I would never have been wed, and we would never have made it to Cambria.
Worse still, without trust we never would have lived in that big, pink, Victorian home on the California coast, travelled back to the 1960s, sailed a living room east of the Pacific, made friends with a golden retriever, or spoke with a cow.
It was from out of all of this but also for all of this that I recorded my third autobiographical monologue: Cambria.
All because two people fell in love.
I recently opened up my chest of childhood memories, faced a decade I had long since forgotten, and wrote these words:
"It was the hippest of times. It was the funkiest of times. It was the 1970s."
And I grew up right there in the middle of it. I won talent shows. I went to camp. I fought the school bully for the honor of the girl I loved. I lost my father...
But having just turned 50, I decided the time had come to take an honest look at those years without the tinted lens of nostalgia, which allowed me to remember so much more. I never told the girl I defended that I loved her. I barely survived camp. No amount of talent show victories brought my father back and, to be honest, my memories weren't as accurate as I thought they were.
The 70's were a swirling minefield filled with a family destroyed by poverty and divorce, horrible TV shows, bad disco on AM radio, wretched food... and the only saving grace a child like me had was Pong. My teachers tried to put me on drugs. My sister taught me the art of shoplifting. My best friend was Burp Boy. Life was a series of constant set-backs, a barrage of defeats, embarrassments, and false starts.
And I wouldn't change a thing.
"Most people land on their feet. I land on my face."
And, with that, Ken La Salle begins his second, autobiographical monologue. But while That Olympic Peninsula Layby put two people at odds with each other, Ken is The World's Worst Backpacker all by himself.
From the encroaching urbanity of Irvine Park in Southern California, to the remote thoroughfare that is the Pacific Crest Trail, decades of disastrous treks should have given him a clue. They didn't. All of those disasters stayed with him. And now, with his tongue planted in a very dry cheek (possibly his own), he shares them with you.
The World's Worst Backpacker is for anyone who has gone on a day hike, picked up a backpack, or walked for a few days in the middle of nowhere. Ken's stories are not just cautionary tales; they're the kind of tales every backpacker (and would-be backpacker) acquires if they don't stop soon enough. They're the kind of tales that leave you wondering "Am I the worst person at this?" when you start and thankful you're not when the story ends.
With music by Josh Woodward, Ken tears the stigma off being the worst. Now, you can be, too!
After all, we can't all be the best but we can be the worst.
Nine states. Two control freaks. One steering wheel. What could possibly go wrong?
It may be that a marriage ends not with a whimper but with the slam of a car door on a deserted stretch of highway. Most married couples know better than to put themselves in each other's way, but in Ken La Salle's first autobiographical monologue, he tells about how he and his wife of eight years did just that on a road trip that probably should never have happened.
As husband and wife drive each other crazy, they must also contend with Ken's schizophrenia, the in-laws, Vicky's homicidal friends, and a cast of characters along the way. Some of this may sound familiar, and the rest will have you thankful you didn't take the trip yourself. All of it culminates in a single moment on a deserted roadside on the Olympic Peninsula, when all the madness of marriage comes down to one question: Is this how a marriage ends?
What is success? What does it mean? How is it that we all look for this thing we call “success,” while each having our own idea about what it could be? Is there one definition for success? And why does the dictionary get it wrong? Find out in Climbing Maya.
Each person must find success on their own, of course. It’s either that or remain unfulfilled. Nobody tells us what it is or how to find it or even what to look for; we’re just told that it’s what we’re supposed to be. Common ideas about success include money, fame, power, and belongings – but those are all ultimately meaningless in the face of mortality.
As it turns out, “success” isn’t a thing we acquire or a place where we go. It’s not a job or a family or any one thing. It is all of these things, and when you find what they all have in common the way to success opens before you.
Success casts its great shadow, like the shadow of some unscalable mountain, across our lives. We know it’s “up there.” But what does it mean to go “up there?” Where is the map that shows us the way?
Climbing Maya was my way of finding the answer to this question of success, my way of defining the term and laying out a map to the goal. As a philosophical memoir, Climbing Maya exposes the reader to ideas about success in the works of Plato and Aristotle, Optimality Theory and Buddhism, Kundalini Yoga, Maslow, and much more as I search for the final answer.
Because success, as it turns out, is not about being rich or having it all. It’s about finding that place in your life where you can breathe free, understand yourself, and take that next step towards becoming who you want to be.
Take a journey unlike any you’ve taken before with Illiturature Books. When has a book ever showed you the view from the top of Mount Everest or accompanied you to the Moon or picked up lunch? But you’ll find all of that, and much more, in the first title by Illiturature Books titled:
The Most Amazing Book You’ve Ever Heard In Your Entire Life
… just make sure you’re worth it.
Take a trip across our known world and beyond! You’ll not only experience the highest point on Mt. Everest (nearly), the depths of a live volcano, and even the surface of the moon, you’ll also learn a few secrets along the way. You’ll discover why ownership isn’t as possible as you’ve been told, why straight lines never are, and why there aren’t as many new masterworks from the Renaissance as there probably should be.
Discover the pitfalls of aesthetic judgments while somehow also learning the meaning of truth and beauty.
nd learn how it’s not always the lies we are told that cause us problems. Sometimes, it’s the truth that you don’t see right in front of you.
Ken La Salle takes his own brand of twisted humor and the shattered remains of what you once thought of as an audiobook to bring you The Most Amazing Book You’ve Ever Heard In Your Entire Life.
Enjoy the view.
In the early 70’s, in the middle of the night, on a dried out lawn in a broken down neighborhood in the Southern Californian community of Santa Ana, Nate Brewer’s mother held him as they watched his father leave them to an uncertain future. After that, it was every man for himself.
At least, that’s how Nate and his brother, Ira, saw it.
Now, Nate is 45 years old. He’s losing his wife. He lost his career. His mom is losing that same home in Santa Ana and Nate thinks he may be losing his mind.
That’s just the beginning of INDIAN PAINTBRUSH, a darkly, bitter-sweet comic tale told by Nate himself. He thinks he’s writing a journal for his psychiatrist but, as his recollections grow darker, he realizes that he has let every bad moment in his life keep him from reaching for anything good. This could be his last chance at remembering just what it is he can’t live without.
Some people grow up hoping things will change but, very often, the only thing time changes is our memories... Maybe there are times when “family” comes down to a group of people you just can’t stand, who you actively hate. And these are the people with whom you will share some of your fondest memories.
The audiobook version, read by the author, is beautifully scored with the Josh Woodward song, Flutter By Butterfly.
Are the voices in your head listening to you? Oh yes. Yes, they are listening to you. They know what you’re saying. Sometimes, they talk back. Sometimes, they sing along. Sometimes, they write children’s book with hidden messages placed in plain sight with a neon bow because, hey, a little style never hurt anyone. (This, of course, ignores the Great Style Massacre of 1973.)
Welcome to “Fun To Grow On” – the new children’s book series for adults. These books are not for little children or big babies. Each story is filled with blood and violence, sex and swearing – Seriously. This series is for adults. These are not parodies of children’s books but original stories for adults who still have a lot to learn… as do we all.
“Fun To Grow On” presents the next book in its continuing series… Puppies: Best in Stew!
Hal Cheeley was the model Republican. He voted for people full of hate. He worshiped at the idol of Ronald Reagan. He even hired and distrusted immigrant labor.
On the morning after the 2012 presidential election, Hal wakes up in his 10 year old body to find himself somewhere in the future. His only answers come from his drugged-out, delusional, and damned 75 year old self. But the answers aren’t good enough.
Why is America in ruins? How did global climate change really come to pass? And why does his elder self have this disgusting taste for dog?
Are the voices in your head listening to you? Oh yes. Yes, they are listening to you. They know what you’re saying. Sometimes, they talk back. Sometimes, they sing along. Sometimes, they write children’s book with hidden messages placed in plain sight with a neon bow because, hey, a little style never hurt anyone. (This, of course, ignores the Great Style Massacre of 1973.)
Welcome to “Fun To Grow On” – the new children’s book series for adults. These books are not for little children or big babies. Each story is filled with blood and violence, sex and swearing – Seriously. This series is for adults. These are not parodies of children’s books but original stories for adults who still have a lot to learn… as do we all.
“Fun To Grow On” presents the very first book in the series… Cookies: Sluts of the Snack World!
When a cookie gets herpes, he decides to ask God for a cure. Can he find God in time?
Someone fed a chocolate chip cookie equal parts of blinding self-awareness, cranberry vodka, and shrooms and asked him to tell his story. Here it is, with all the pageantry you would expect from a cookie… which is probably a whole lot less than you would desire.
When we dream of what our lives can hold, we should always dream with open eyes. We should always be aware of the pitfalls before us but, more importantly, we should open our eyes to the dangers that exist should we lack the courage to pursue our dreams. Once we understand our options, we’ll be better suited to do what we need to do to find happiness in our lives.
Dreaming With Open Eyes is Ken La Salle’s third collection of essays from the pages of Recovering the Self. As he shares his journey in the pursuit of his dreams, he spotlights the dangers and opportunities in the journey ahead of all of us.
Only when we open our eyes can we see the truth of our lives. Dreaming With Open Eyes shows us just what riches our dreams and our lives can hold.
What do you do when your father is losing his life just as you are losing your mind? Run like hell.
At the close of A Grand Canyon, Ken La Salle and his beloved Vicky drive off into the sunset. It’s a fairy tale ending, providing your idea of a fairy tale includes suicide attempts, hallucinations, and crippling self-doubt.
Now, in The Day We Said Goodbye, it’s time to live the dream. Vicky and Ken get married, travel the world, and embrace the warm light of love. Or so Ken wanted to believe. But he never really dealt with the impulses that drove him to the edge of the Grand Canyon, now manifesting in schizophrenic episodes, like when his ex-wife shows up at his wedding.
And it doesn’t help that his father is dying and Ken has to find a way to say Goodbye.
The Day We Said Goodbye is Ken La Salle’s third memoir, following A Grand Canyon and Climbing Maya. It combines razor-sharp observations with revealing wisdom and the story of how goodbyes are often all we’re left with when everything you know, and everything you think you know, fades away with time. It is a book for anyone who has lost someone, anyone losing themselves … and anyone who is lost.
The audiobook version, read by the author, is beautifully scored with the Josh Woodward song, History Repeats
Jackson is just a Wal-Mart worker from Los Angeles, far too caught up in the apathy of modern life to believe in anything. After spending one night with the daughter of a wood nymph and the man who surrendered his arm for the woman he loved, the lithesome beauty named Mari, Jackson knows he believes. And he knows he’ll do anything to find her again.
He follows her up the coast of California and a polar bear drives the taxi. Into the forest and through frozen mountains, he talks to God and creatures of faerie alike but the final confrontation is with the mother whose people have been wiped out by mankind. They were wiped out the same way humanity is wiping itself out, with greed and disregard.
Daughter is more than just a simple love story because it also poses this question for the reader: Is love really possible? Can human beings really love each other? How is it possible for parents who pollute the world they’re leaving behind to say they love their children? How can we say we look out for each other, even as we divert our eyes to the homeless we see every day? For, if love isn’t possible, how can Jackson really say he loves Mari? Faced with proof after proof that it doesn’t exist, Jackson’s only hope is to somehow prove otherwise.
Read by the author, Daughter of a One-Armed Man is lush with impossible discoveries and words of hope for the future, beautifully scored with the Josh Woodward song, Don’t Close Your Eyes.
We use cookies to give you the best online experience. Please let us know if you agree to all of these cookies. To learn more view privacy and cookies policy.
