Buy A Book, Grab A Beer

Anyone interested in an autographed hardcover copy of Cat & Cat, I'll be at the Local Tavern in Parma (5513 Pearl Rd) tonight between 5 - 7PM. Buy a book, and I'll buy you a beer or your beverage of choice. I'll be on the patio if it's nice or inside at the stage bar if it's raining. I'm easy to spot because I look like the guy in my picture. If you can't make it and want a copy, message me here, on Facebook, Twitter or Linked In. Or order directly from:

Amazon:      http://www.amazon.com/Cat-Novel-Three-Movements-ebook/dp/B00JAQXIUE

Smashwords:  http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/427306

Barnes & Nobel:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/cat-cat-mark-kozak/1119459143

Details on Cat & Cat the audio book coming soon!

Cat & Cat Hardcover Now Available at Amazom.com

Just got my Amazon.com listing for the hardcover edition of Cat & Cat.

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0692417974

For anyone local, you can save yourself some time and money and just message me on Facebook, Linked In, Twitter, or email me: m_e_kozak@yahoo.com ; chris.telamon65@gamil.com . I'll get the book to you.

I'm also running a limited-time offer, Buy A Book and Get a Drink. So if you want to buy Cat & Cat and grab an adult beverage or coffee while you're at, let me know. Save yourself shipping and get a complimentary drink of your choice up to $8.99. This is a limited-offer. Message me here if you're interested.

Have fun & Keep Reading!

Mark Kozak

Oh The Places You'll Go - Indy Author Meets Indy Wrestlers

Back in 2009, my unemployment odyssey took me into a temp position with Moen answering consumer phone calls. Basically, the job entailed verbally assisting people with installing or fixing their Moen faucets, i.e. being a plumber over the phone. Training consisted of an eight week school that covered everything from installing and repairing Moen faucets to navigating the company's various computer systems. On the first day of class, I met a guy named David Wilson, and given our similar age and shared experiences we became fast friends. Over the next few weeks, David and I exchanged our biographies and outside interests. I told him about my aspirations as a writer, and he filled me in regarding his dual identity - David Powers - past experiences and ongoing passion for professional wrestling.

Now I know I strike many as an intellectual & cultural snob, what with my incessant prattling about jazz and classical music, the literary canon, history, science, philosophy, theology and craft beers. But pro wrestling - like comic books, Cleveland sports and prime-time television - formed a large part of my childhood worldview and still remains a not-so-guilty pleasure to this day. Needless to say, meeting an honest-to-goodness ex-pro wrestler who could not only talk grappling greats like Abdullah The Butcher or Larry Zbyszko but actually knows them was a huge kick. Even to this day, whenever David and I grab a beer, I always end up pumping him for anecdotes about Tully Blanchard, Paul Orndorff or Mr. Wrestling II. Anyone who knows me well knows I eat up "road stories," be they from the back of the Buddy Rich Big Band bus or a high school gymnasium on the southern Ohio-West VA wrestling circuit.

Of course, like any writer, I can't be content with just knowing interesting people or hearing great stories. Those long conversations with David ended up impacting my creative life and actually inspired the development of a character in my forthcoming novel Stalking Mule. When David mentioned his involvement with a local independent wrestling association, The UXWA based in Brooklyn, Ohio, I jumped at the chance to help sponsor their latest show on May 16th, meet some of the guys and do a little first-hand research on the world of independent professional wrestling. And that's how I found myself at the Dr. Martin Luther Church in Brooklyn last night, rollicking to some bone-crushing take-downs and hawking copies of Cat & Cat at a vendor table.

One day later, writing this blog entry, I can't help but consider last night one of those unexpected lessons you just stumble across in life. As one of countless unknown struggling writers trying to gain traction, it's impossible to know where or when you may end up meeting potential readers and hopefully making new fans. While libraries, bookstores, cafes and artsy pubs are definitely the lifeblood of any writer looking to be heard, sometimes you need to wander out of the comfort zone and go meet folks outside the standard demographic, Maybe you sell some books, or maybe you don't. That's not the point, really. The Experience is the point, the sound of new voices, the ambiance of hitherto unexplored worlds. Like the noted twentieth-century philosopher Theodor Seuss Geisel once said, "Oh, The Places You'll Go!"

The Obligatory Cleveland Post-Season Playoff Post

"So why even watch it, then?" My wife is 100% sincere when she asks me this, eyeing me with a mixture of annoyance and concern while I hurl a few choice obscenities at the television, the officials, the opposing team and our own team's lackluster play. It doesn't matter the sport, the season, the year, the players. I've been through this a dozen times since I can remember. They really could win it ALL this year ... They being the Browns, Cavs or Indians. No matter how many times I've explained The Truth before, I always find myself forced to impart my wisdom once more.

God just doesn't hate Cleveland. He/She/It hates me. Period.

On December 27, 1964, Cleveland won its last championship in a REAL sport. (Sorry, all you Hector Marinaro fans. Bush League Soccer doesn't count.) Exactly one month later, January 27, 1965, I was born. As a card-carrying skeptic, I'm not one to believe in curses or supernatural whammies. Except the one where the entire universe and all its forces are poised against me. Somewhere jotted down in the Book of Life, right between the Big Bang and the Apocalypse, is a quick note by the Almighty that reads, "No Cleveland Championships while Mark Kozak is alive."

Look, I've heard all you Pollyannas before. My whole effing life as a matter of fact. From "We've got a lot of young talent" to "Don't worry, we'll come back" to "Wait til next year", I've watched Cleveland fans contort themselves through every permutation of positive thinking in the vain effort to shake a fist at the Iron Will of Divine Providence. Ain't gonna happen, folks. As long as yours truly breathes, Cleveland is destined to come up short time after time after time after time after .. well, you get the picture.

The worst part are the slogans and songs. "Rutigliano's Super Bowl Team," "Bernie Bernie," arrghhhh!  Listen, if you go into a Cleveland playoff game armed with banners and bromides, you will have your heart ripped out with the added of privilege of being permitted to see the beating, bloody pulp before you die. Instead of the "All In" or "Witness" gear, how about fitting fans with some good old fashioned hair shirts?

Post Season Sports in Cleveland is not a celebration. It's a penance we all pay for the sin of hope that someday, some way one of our teams will alter ALL natural laws and win a championship. Instead of cheering, we need to be flagellating and scourging ourselves in an effort to extinguish every last vestige of optimism from our sickeningly indomitable spirits. Maybe then, God will take pity on our wretched souls and give us a freaking ring. I mean, hell, we've tried building bullpens, drafting franchise players and bringing in proven genius coaches. Why not try marching en masse around the banks of the Cuyahoga with crosses on our back?