Ways You Can Help Time Burrito

I’m attempting to get a time travel comedy called Time Burrito published with Amazon. You can help by clicking the link below, reading the excerpt, and if you’d like to see it happen, click nominate. You’ll get a free kindle copy if it’s picked. It’s simple, and you’ll make a cat flying on a space burrito very happy.

Here’s the link:
https://kindlescout.amazon.com/p/2TXN8GZWVYGW2

If you really want to help me out, please share Time Burrito on social media. I even made an easy way for you to do it by joining my headtalker campaign here.

Author Spotlight – Me!

I’m assuming that if you’re on my blog you probably wanted to see how I answered the questions too. If you missed the other authors please go back and check them out!

Bio: Aaron Frale co-wrote a no-budget comedy flick called Hamlet the Vampire Slayer. His first novel is Playlist of the Ancient Dead. The University of New Mexico gave him a MFA in Dramatic Writing. He also screams and plays guitar for the prog/metal band Spiral. He lives with his wife Felicia, two cats, and a small dog who thinks he’s a large dog in Columbia Heights, MN.

Questions:

What’s the one piece of advice you’d give someone wanting to write?

Aaron: Patience. It takes time to write a good story and takes time to build an audience.

How do you approach your stories; do you plan everything out before starting, or are you more a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of a person?

Aaron: I rarely plan. I just write and see what happens.

Of all your characters, do you have a favorite?

Aaron: I have a soft some for wierdos with irreverent humor.

How long did it take you to write your most recent book(s)?

Aaron: It takes about six months to a year depending on my life outside of writing.

What motivated you to write your novel?

Aaron: I used to write screenplays and I realized that a lot of things had to fall into place to get a movie I wrote on the screen. Whereas books, I could do it myself.

Name three favorite authors and why they impress you.

Aaron: Douglas Adams – For pioneering comedy science fiction

Joss Whedon – For pioneering horror comedy

Neil Gaimen – For being an awesome human being

Would you rather set your story in a place and time you are familiar with, or would you rather research a totally different setting?

Aaron: I like making up my own settings.

Do you have any little writing rituals or quirks? E.g. an object you have to have on your desk, a particular drink or snack.

Aaron: Not really. I wish I had more time to do it.

How do you own experiences influence what you write?

Aaron: Some of the humorous stories in the character’s backgrounds have really happened. My first book had a talking dog character that was an ongoing anthropomorphizing joke my and I have about our dog.

If you were a ninja with a vendetta to whom would it be? OR If you had to throw something into mount Doom to save the world, what would it be? OR If you had a group of celebrities to plan the perfect heist who would they be and what would you be after? (If you couldn’t already tell, these were the questions I added to the pot 🙂 )

Aaron: As a ninja, I would strike at the heart of climate change deniers. I would through income inequality into Mount Doom and now that the world is fixed, I would round up the cast of Star Trek Voyager to raid the prop room of Star Trek Discovery.

How do you deal with writer’s block?

Aaron: I work on something different. It helps to have several going at once.

What is your favorite part of the writing process?

Aaron: First draft. It’s always the most fun.

If you were stranded on a deserted island with only one book, what would it be? (Ominbuses,  complete works, and how to books are forbidden!) (Laura)

Aaron: Hitchhiker’s Guide (because you’ll need the towel).

Links: At the top of this page. Books. Go ahead click there. They won’t bite.

 

Amazon Publishing Deal Update

Caroline

Click here to support this book.

It’s been a week since I’ve posted Playlist of the Ancient Dead, and I’m happy to say that I’ve been in the “hot & trending” list the entire week! But the campaign is not over. I still have three more weeks ahead, and I’ll need all the support I can get. Please share this link with your friends and family. Encourage them to share it with their friends and family. Remember, anyone who votes gets a free kindle edition if I get published. I thank you all for your support.

I also want to let you know about my upcoming story collection called Cowboys & Drones. It’s a collection of all the stories I’ve written in the past year or so. The cover art was done by Rudy Lovato, the same artist who did Desert during Day of the Dead, and it looks fantastic. You should check it out.

Rumspringa

Rumspringa

A science fiction short story that will be a Spiral song.

My first memory was my wife’s suicide. The day was sunny and almost pleasant. The crisp air and the smell of the ocean dominated my senses. I was on the edge of a deep forest wild with growth. About fifty feet from the forest was a seaside cliff. There were jagged and ruthless rocks down below. The sea breathed in waves crashing below. My wife stood dressed in a flowing white wedding dress at the edge of the cliff looking at the rocks that looked as if they would grab her into the depths.

I was paralyzed at the forest edge. Every muscle wanted to scream out, but nothing could propel me forward. I didn’t know why I was here or why she stood at the edge transfixed by the abyss below. My memory was blank, but I still had feelings from my previous existence. All that I knew was that I cared for the woman about to jump. I wanted to stop her. There must have been something calling and tempting her to jump. The moment of paralytic fear passed, and I was able to run.

She slowly turned her head tilting at an awkward angle to face me, almost like she was a puppet on a string. My blood boiled tearing through a distance that seemed like a marathon’s length when in reality was only a couple more yards to go. She smiled a beautiful full smile. It was the kind of smile that would light up a room and strike people in their heart. She smiled as if she had nothing but pure joy to share with the world. Her smile tumbled with her as her body went limp and dropped off the edge. My fingers barely touched her flowing dressed as she went over the cliff. The smile faded into an expression of contentment as she disappeared into the rocky sea.

My momentum tossed me forward and over the edge. I skittered to a halt by gripping the jagged cliff side. My arms were the only thing keeping me from joining my wife in the deep. My feet dangled into a void. Part of me felt guilty for my willpower to live. I felt as if I should join her. My weight and angle was too much to pull myself back up the cliff. Just when I thought I would join her, several masculine tuxedoed arms dragged me away from the edge.

The men who pulled me up were all young, hearty, and looked like groomsmen. That’s when I noticed that I was wearing a tuxedo too. It was torn from my stumble and covered in dust. My nose bled and body ached. One of the men shoved a flask in my face. I took a sip and cringed from the burn of the drink. He nodded, and I drank more. I handed the flask back, and more wedding guests began popping out of the forest.

My wedding seemed to have been well attended, as there were many families and many people coming from the woods. I could not remember any of them. All I knew is that the person who had jumped was my wife. She was dead, and now I would have to break the news to the people I didn’t remember. I hoped one of the groomsmen who pulled me up from the cliff saw the event and would explain. I wanted nothing more than to be alone.

“Where’s Aida? Where’s my daughter?” A middle-aged woman in a blue mother of the bride dress asked. The groomsmen shrugged. She turned towards me for an explanation.

“She jumped off the cliff.” I said and started to cry. I couldn’t help myself. I loved that woman. The mother of bride loved her too. She grew feint and was caught by one of the groomsmen. She began to wail. More people began to pop out of the forest with dismayed expressions. The next week was a blur.

To continue reading get the full story here.

The Chair

The Chait

The original play poster. Design by Bruce Wong.

CLAREANNE runs out, frantic. MELISSA stands next to a CHAIR.

CLAREANNE: Oh my God!

MELISSA: What?

CLAREANNE: Nice chair…

MELISSA: Thanks. Family heirloom. Antique.

CLAREANNE: Oh my God!

MELISSA: What?

CLAREANNE: I remembered why I ran out so quickly! My boyfriend won the lottery!

MELISSA: That’s great!

CLAREANNE: No… He got arrested for overdue parking violations on the way to the lotto office.

MELISSA: That’s not so great. So, let’s use the lotto money to bail him out. Or better yet, I have a piggy bank!

CLAREANNE: No good. We can’t get his possessions until we bail him out. Where are we going to get the money?

They both look at the chair.

MELISSA: It was my grandfather’s!

CLAREANNE: We’ll buy you a new one.

MELISSA: But my grandfather died in this chair!

CLAREANNE: My grandfather died in his sleep. It doesn’t mean I kept his bed… Gross.

MELISSA: We are not selling the chair. My grandpa killed Nazis in this chair!

CLAREANNE: Okay, fine. We won’t sell the chair…

MELISSA: Why don’t we just wait till he gets out of prison then collect the lotto winnings?

CLAREANNE: Right. Like a guard isn’t going to see that he has the winning ticket and exchange it for another one.

MELISSA: Sometimes, guards have sex with prisoners. I saw it on Netflix.

CLAREANNE: So do the prisoners! Think, if a prisoner discovers he has the winning ticket, Ted will be exchanged for cigarettes! Do you know how many cigarettes a winning lotto ticket will buy!

MELISSA: That’s right! Then everyone will have cancer from smoking.

CLAREANNE: Yeah, and we don’t want to give those inmates cancer do we? Unless we just simply…

MELISSA: Put warning labels on all the cigarettes!

Clareanne tries to take the chair.

MELISSA: You put that down! Clareanne!

Clareanne motions to put the chair down, then bolts. Melissa runs after her. There is a scuffle, followed by a large thump. Melissa wanders back on stage with the chair. STEVE runs out.

STEVE: Clareanne? Clareanne? Oh, hey Melissa. You wouldn’t believe it, but we need money to bail Ted out of prison. Hey, that’s a nice chair…

Melissa glares at Steve. She raises the chair to attack.

Get the rest of this play and more in my collection of comedy theatre work.