Posts

Margerumalia – The First Rehearsal

Eric Margerum

Newsletter – May 29, 2026

The first rehearsal usually begins with a “table read.” That’s exactly what it sounds like, the actors and director all sit around a table and read the script out loud for the first time. 

In a full length production, the table read might also include an assistant director, the stage manager, and possibly a dramaturg, costume designer, or choreographer among others. But “Out of the Abyss” is a short play in a festival of short plays so it was just the three of us. 

We also have limited access to rehearsal space so, for now, I’m making use of my membership in a co-working space where I can reserve meeting rooms to rehearse in. The meeting rooms all have one glass wall, but experienced actors are used to both accepting and ignoring distractions.

I gave some background to the inspiration of the play, which was Ray Bradbury’s “To the Chicago Abyss,” and the tone I was trying to achieve. They already intuited that tone and by the end of the read-through we were all in tears.

Keep in mind that the actors had never even met, but their instincts were spot on and they were entirely enrapt in the story. I told them as much while I tried to swallow back my emotions and I knew we were off to an exceptional start.

We moved the tables out of the way and began blocking the play. What side would Libby enter from? Did Sam absolutely have to sit on the floor? When she strikes him, how should that be staged?

Through discussion and following actor impulses we answered each of those questions and added a few additional moves that “just felt right.” Experienced actors and directors know that those feelings are always golden, and we followed them.

The actor playing Sam has bad knees that won’t allow him to sit on the floor and we agreed that a stage block—a two foot cube painted black—would be in keeping with the dystopian setting, especially if it was dented and battered.

We worked out all those blocking details about half a page at a time and then ran the play from beginning to end. Again—even with scripts in hand—we were choked up and the actors speculated that this will probably happen every time. 

I hope so, because that means they’re “in the moment” and not playing at the emotions. Of course, I’d like to see the audience equally moved. I’m pretty sure they will be.

Opening night is four weeks from the day this newsletter is posted.

TTFN

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If you received this email because it was forwarded to you by a subscriber, welcome. You can subscribe as well by following the link on my website: ericmargerum.com. A free story awaits you there.

Margerumalia – The Auditions

Eric Margerum

Newsletter – May 22, 2026

Auditions always give me a jittery feeling inside, even when I’m behind the director’s table. I always want everyone to do well so they can walk away feeling like they gave it their best shot. Actors in these auditions witness the readings of every other actor in their time slot, and read from at least two different plays.

We call it a reading because they stand up with script in hand, but we expect to see some eye contact and hear some expression. A little movement usually helps, too. Nothing like a good gesture to illustrate a point.

Our festival director reminded us that we didn’t need to see everyone read every role in our plays, or we’d be there all night. One experienced director scoffed at the idea, and assured those around him that he could cast his play even if nobody read for it at all.

No, that wasn’t me, but he was right.

With eleven short plays, the director’s table was well populated with directors. I knew about three-quarters of them and was interested to watch how everyone operated. I was pleased to see that they were all encouraging to the actors, applauding at the end of every reading, and generous with their laughter even after hearing the same punchline for the seventh time.

Hey, a good delivery deserves a good laugh.

I recently restarted my acting classes and gave my students a chance to practice a couple of pieces from the festival. (They were available to read on line.) Two of them came to the auditions and one of them was cast in a play. I was especially happy for him because he had auditioned for every Civic Theatre production for a year or two. His dogged determination to land a role finally paid off!

They both showed that they had listened to my instructions and I thought they performed well. I was a proud papa. So many people auditioned that a little more than half the actors got cast.

My play, “Out of the Abyss,” was one of the few dramas amidst a canoodle of comedies and I was glad to see actors treat it seriously. My male cast member is someone I’ve directed before and I’m fully confident about his abilities. The female cast member was someone I’d never seen before but it was clear she had talent and I was glad to be able to secure her for this play. 

Both actors complimented my writing of the play and had high praise for the subject matter. That was a nice topping to the whole process and I look forward to working with both of them.

First rehearsal is Saturday!

TTFN

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My middle grade novel, The Most Amazing Museum of Los Angeles is available through The BookBaby Bookshop at https://store.bookbaby.com/book/the-most-amazing-museum-of-los-angeles

Margerumalia – Myrtle The Turtle

Eric Margerum

Newsletter – May 15, 2026

On my morning walk a couple weeks ago I got the chance to meet this shy box turtle who wasn’t too keen on me getting so close. I thought about this turtle and as well as the knitted turtle I bought from my friend Em while creating another children’s poem.

I learned a couple things about turtles in my search for correct terminology and I want you to know about one before you read the poem. I use the word Testudines which has four syllables (tess-TOO-din-eez) with the emphasis is on the second syllable.

(Testudines are an order of reptiles made up of turtles, terrapins, and tortoises.)

Myrtle the Turtle 

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Myrtle the turtle was known for her girdle, 

A fine looking girdle, they say.

Most every turtle is known for their shelling,

The patterns that turtles display.

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“Not Myrtle,” the other Testudines said,

“She flounces her girdle with poise,

And she’ll lift up her beak to give you a tweak

If you make any impolite noise.”

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The date of the scute competition arrived

And Myrtle showed up in her girdle.

But how could they tell if her scutes were all cute 

With the girdle creating that hurdle?

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“Get rid of the girdle,” the judges told Myrtle,

“In order to show us your shelling.”

Embarrassed and shy, she moved to comply,

In her eyes the tears began welling.

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Every Testudine looked on in shock 

And saw what the girdle was hiding,

All Myrtle’s scutes were totally plain

With no pattern or marking presiding.

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“The Unadorned Queen!” the judges exclaimed,

All kneeling as best they were able,

The whole shelling crowd then hoisted her high,

To make Myrtle the head of the table.

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Queen Myrtle reigned longer than forty-nine years

Then passed on her girdle to Mortise

His reign lasted almost for ninety-nine years 

Because he, of course, was a tortoise.

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Like the last poem I shared, I added hashtags to separate the stanzas.

I hope you enjoyed it. I was tickled when I discovered the ending. I hadn’t seen that coming.

I had no idea where this poem was headed when I began, just the rhymes of turtle, Myrtle and girdle. It developed as I was writing it and searching for additional rhyming words for the end of each line.

If you want to get into the poetic weeds with me, the stanzas are pretending to be four lines alternating between four and three feet, but are, in fact, two lines of seven feet each. That’s where the rhymes fall. The very first line informed me how the poem wanted to sound.

Here’s the original turtle my friend knitted.

She sits on our dining room table and lends her soft shell to support my phone. 

Myrtle, they say, is a very good friend,

And she is a really cute turtle.

TTFN

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If you received this email because it was forwarded to you by a subscriber, welcome. You can subscribe as well by following the link on my website: ericmargerum.com. A free story awaits you there.

Margerumalia – The Proctor Factor

Eric Margerum

Newsletter – May 8, 2026

I’m proctoring AP tests this week for local high school students seeking Advance Placement for college credit. If they make a top score of 5 they have one less requirement to complete in their college career.

I complimented one student on her crisp new Stanford sweatshirt and asked if she had already been accepted. She had and was very pleased to hear my congratulations. 

I hope her parents didn’t have the same reaction as my mom when I said I got accepted to the University of Southern California for grad school. “So far away?” she asked with disappointment. I appreciated her wanting me nearer to home, but really wanted to hear that congratulations.

Proctoring exams takes a bit of training to be aware of sophisticated methods used to cheat. No longer do students sneak crib notes cradled in the palms of their hands. Nor do they write answers on their arms or their jeans. No we’re talking about technology here.

“Everyone must place all electronic devices on the table at the front of the room. Powered down. Not silenced or in Airplane Mode. This includes tablets, smart watches, and phones.” (I expect by next year they’ll include “smart glasses” on that list.)

The students use a laptop to take the test, but the software will cancel the test immediately if a student leaves the Bluebook Platform for any reason before the test is completed. 

The second part is a written component collected by the proctors.

I wonder if any of them were told to practice their penmanship. I remember reading years ago about an experiment where educators were asked to evaluate an essay. Some were given a version with poor handwriting and some were given a version with good handwriting. Same words in both cases.

Want to predict the outcome?

You’re right. The essays with good handwriting were universally evaluated with high scores while the ones with poor handwriting were lower. Same essay.

My wife and I are currently watching “Suits” on Netflix and those high powered lawyers are all dressed to the nines in every episode. Their clients trust the well dressed lawyers because they look successful. I can’t help but compare that to the penmanship experiment.

On the second day I was the only proctor in a small room of three and I read aloud all of the instructions with very few stumbles. I’m pleased to be able to say my speech is slowly improving, especially in comparison to my Father Of The Bride speech a year ago. I’ll take the win.

TTFN

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My middle grade novel, The Most Amazing Museum of Los Angeles is available through The BookBaby Bookshop at https://store.bookbaby.com/book/the-most-amazing-museum-of-los-angeles

Margerumalia – The Happiness Advantage

Eric Margerum

Newsletter – May 1, 2026

Look at that happy baby soaking up the summer sun in his oh-so-debonaire plastic pants! That’s Baby Eric running across the backyard to Mommy who’s holding the camera. He’s a little out of focus but my folks wouldn’t know it until they got the film developed. Today my iPhone would’ve captured the un-blurred enthusiasm in that boy’s face.

Side note: that’s my dad crouching over the garden at about half the age that I am now.  Time is such a surreal phenomenon.

Other side note: look at that old automobile in the neighbor’s carport! That’d be in a classic car show today. 

“You were a very happy baby,” my mom told me.

I was. I am. Happy, that is, not a baby. I’m not wearing waterproof undies anymore. Not yet anyway.

I’m currently reading a book called The Happiness Advantage that the chair of the Communication Department recommended when I was a dean at Vincennes University. The book is all about the advantages of positive psychology and the seven principles of a mindset that “fuels success and performance at work.”

I heard a woman in a recent podcast telling about a job she had as a teen making smoothies for people. She confided to her boss that she was bored and just wanted to go home. The boss suggested that she see every customer as an opportunity to make someone’s life a little better.

When she embraced that idea by being helpful and enthusiastic, looking for the opportunity to bring a smile to the face of every customer, her whole perspective of the job turned around. She enjoyed going to work. To this day, she still remembers that job as her favorite. That’d be the happiness advantage in a nutshell.

I haven’t finished the book but so far it’s been reinforcing my own worldview—the one I was born with. I look forward to reading about how the seven principles can be applied to life in general. Like everyone, I’ve had my share of bumps and bruises that life dishes out. I’d like to learn the way to keep those setbacks from getting the best of me.

I want to know how to help others accomplish that, too.

Here’s another picture of me a few years later that tells you a little bit more about my personality.

My imagination said, You’re flying, and so, of course, I was. It also helps to have your eyes closed. The reality behind closed lids is even more vivid than the one surrounding you. 

So vivid that my dad would accuse me of playing stupid when I suddenly exited my dream world and wanted to know what people were talking about. I knew better than to explain that I wasn’t playing stupid, I just wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. There’s no good path out of those woods. Either I’m stupid or you’re boring.

Look at the photo again. See how the sleeves are rolled up to accommodate my little five-year-old arms? I continued wearing that costume for years, growing into those sleeves and the rolled up pants. Family friends started calling me Super Eric. I’ve had very few nicknames in my life but I think I like that one best.

“You were such an easy child,” my mother told me, “I could set you down in the middle of the living room with a box of toys and you’d entertain yourself for hours.”

I gave free rein to my creativity and that was always a great experience. I’ve done the same for years in the theatre, and am applying the same approach to my writing. I hope my writing entertains you and keeps you out of boring conversations.

I also hope your creativity gets a chance to play.

TTFN

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If you received this email because it was forwarded to you by a subscriber, welcome. You can subscribe as well by following the link on my website: ericmargerum.com. A free story awaits you there.

Margerumalia – My Play Was Chosen!

Eric Margerum

Newsletter – April 24, 2026

I’m pleased to announce that my 10-Minute play “Out of the Abyss” was chosen for this year’s Civic Theatre Play Festival in June. There are so many talented playwrights on this list and I am both honored and humbled to be among them.

“Out of the Abyss” is an homage to Ray Bradbury’s short story “To the Chicago Abyss” which he also adapted into a one-act play by the same name. In it, an old unhomed man is muttering memories of brands of coffee, cigarettes, candy bars, movies, and fresh fruit when someone tries to shut him up for fear he’ll get taken away. Remembering things is not allowed in this dystopia.

I thought I could capture a similar feeling by having my unhomed man muttering the words of famous documents and speeches that define who we are as a nation. He, too, is in danger of getting hauled away by the authorities so a social worker desperately tries to make him stop. My title suggests a hopeful outcome if it’s received as I imagined.

My daughter read the play and commented that the feeling of my short play is “uncanny” and I like that description a lot. She said it feels like something out of 1984. I agree.

The festival director asked if I wanted to direct my play and I enthusiastically said yes. I’ve directed short plays in the festival for the past three years, and one full-length play for the youth theatre. I’m particularly excited because the atmosphere is mutually supportive, generous, and encouraging.

After auditions, for example, directors discuss who they want in their plays, and follow up with alternate choices in a give-and-take process to help every play to achieve its best.

I remember realizing one year that a young man hadn’t been cast in anything even though he did a good job in the auditions so I volunteered to give him a role in the play I was directing. He did a good job and has continued to be involved in Civic Theatre since. That’s the outcome we want! 

The last time I directed my own play in this festival I was encouraged by fellow playwright Steven G. Martin to submit it to other festivals and competitions. That play, “Just Book Club,” ended up getting collected in The Best 10-Minute Plays 2024. (You can see the book cover on my website at ericmargerum.com.)

The county library Spring Author Fair was sparsely attended due, they said, to an all-morning rain followed by a university bug fair that drew a lot of attendance. 

Ever eat a bug? Not on purpose! Me neither. Apparently scorpion pops have been a big draw in years past. Eww.

The one book I did sell was to an old friend of my parents who told me that he belonged to a play-reading group and they had read my play “Just Book Club.” He said it was very good and he and his wife plan to come see my next play in June.

TTFN

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My middle grade novel, The Most Amazing Museum of Los Angeles is available through The BookBaby Bookshop at https://store.bookbaby.com/book/the-most-amazing-museum-of-los-angeles

Margerumalia – The Birds & The Bees

Eric Margerum

Newsletter – April 17, 2026

Photo: Debbie Margerum

Spring has sprung, as they say, and the woods are full of life, so I thought I’d share a bit of it with you.

Debbie is so good at getting nature photos that I’m using some of hers. I tried to capture a bee on a purple flower from just two feet away, but I wasn’t close enough, so she let me borrow hers. It’s an art! The uncredited photos are mine.

This pair of Mallard ducks arrive every year about this time and enjoy paddling around in the stream. I’ve never seen them with youngsters, but this is their mating season. Fun fact: the Mallards are a sub-family of ducks called dabbling ducks. Isn’t that cute? 

Question: Are you a real duck?

Answer: Naw, I’m just dabbling.

The Redbuds are the big show-offs every spring because, you know, they can. Hillsides are covered with these audacious blooms, bringing a symphony of color to the woods before the maples, oaks, and birches can break out their greenery and soak up all the sunlight. 

As I was walking, I was wondering how to describe the color of these trees using only words. It can be really hard to capture—as are taste and smell—but I think I gave it a pretty good go with this sentence: 

The blossoms are a jubilant shade of pinkish purple normally exclusive to the domain of children’s toys and clothing.

Photo: Debbie Margerum

The squirrels are dashing everywhere digging up acorns they buried last fall. How do they know?! They must have a built-in geolocation app. This photo is from a couple years ago, back before we had to have the old oak tree removed. It’s like he posed for this portrait, it’s so perfect.

That old white oak was situated on the lot when my parents decided to build the house so they had the architect draw up plans in an L-shape to preserve the tree. We estimated that it was about 250 years old when we took it down. The hollow inside made it a danger to the house, but it lived a long grand life.

On my morning walks I constantly see red squirrels chasing away grey squirrels like the one in the photo. “Hey,” I say, “why can’t we just all get along?”

The bluebells opened up the other day. Can you tune in your faery senses to hear them ringing? It’s a subtle tinkling noise that calls to the pollinators, “We’re here! We’re here!”

I love that I could capture the morning dew glistening on these flowers. I’ve learned a few things from my talented photographer wife.

And just as the Easter egg is a symbol of fertility for this fecund spring season, our outdoor cats went into heat a couple of months ago enticing several tomcats to haunt the premises. 

That’s Tabitha on the left eating from the bowl. She’s brought us eleven kittens over three years. We’ve found them homes or had them taken to the Humane Society where they were adopted. She’s walking with a distinctive waddle now. We think she’ll give birth any day.

Her daughter Rocket—from the second litter—is seated on the Adirondack chair where the old oak tree used to stand, watching the early morning activities of the neighborhood. 

She’s also got a full womb. I know because I pet her every morning while she eats, and I talk to her about finding a good nesting spot away from predators but not too far away so she can still come to eat every morning on our front porch. Gotta be able to produce enough milk. 

It’s her first litter so I figure any information is only going to help.

From past experience we know we won’t see the kittens until about two months after they’re born. So watch this space for some adorable kitty pics in June!

TTFN

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If you received this email because it was forwarded to you by a subscriber, welcome. You can subscribe as well by following the link on my website: ericmargerum.com. A free story awaits you there.

Margerumalia – Spring Author Fair

Eric Margerum

Newsletter – April 10, 2026

I’m looking forward to attending another Spring Author Fair at our Tippecanoe County Library where I’ll be doing my elevator pitch about The Most Amazing Museum of Los Angeles and talk a bit about the sequel, The Most Amazing Museum of Chicago.

Because a giant maze is featured in the first book I’ll be giving away free mazes that I found on line (including the website where they can find more). I really enjoy talking to people, especially hearing from children about their interests. Several adults have bought copies of the book to read to their children or grandchildren. That really warms my heart.

I’ve written about a third of MAMCHI including quite a lengthy section where two girls go back in time to The Great Chicago Fire. Two boys, meanwhile, have a rainforest adventure which results in a torrent of water almost pulling them under. And the young teacher and her student find themselves in a toy workshop where unexpected things take place.

Beware The Game Master! He keeps on showing up and making trouble for the young people.

I’ve also been writing more poems for my side project of Verses Versus Curses, a collection of verses that I think children will enjoy. I’ll read a few of them at the Author Fair to anyone who wants to listen.

(My speech seems to be improving, but still gets a little slurry by the end of the day.)

I’m sharing my latest poem with you below. This time I’m inserting a hashtag between the stanzas to give them clear separation.

Thirteen is a Lucky Number

Thirteen is a lucky number, everybody knows,

I have thirteen fingers when I use three of my toes.

A basement should have thirteen stairs if someone builds it right,

I always count my thirteen steps when I go down at night.

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They say to break a mirror gives you seven years of bad

Luck is just a silly notion, or so says my dad.

My black cat’s name is Shadow and her eyes glow in the dark

Sometimes just to scare her I will crawl upstairs and bark. 

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Thirteen is a baker’s dozen, I like snicker-doodles.

Let’s make a batch and split them up, as long as I get oodles.

The seasons each have thirteen weeks and I like autumn best,

Next Halloween I’ll wear a scary mask when I get dressed.

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Poems that have thirteen lines are better than the rest!

TTFN

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Here’s another of my entries in the weekly caption contest by “The New Yorker.”

Yes, a little morning flute music is nice, it’s the midnight drum solos I can’t bear.

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My middle grade novel, The Most Amazing Museum of Los Angeles is available through The BookBaby Bookshop at https://store.bookbaby.com/book/the-most-amazing-museum-of-los-angeles

Margerumalia – The Theatre of Basketball

Eric Margerum

Newsletter – April 3, 2026

NCAA.org

The other day I subbed at the Jr/Sr High School where I got to supervise the Junior High Gym during one of the lunch periods. As I watched the players vying for position, passing, and shooting their hearts out even without keeping score, I couldn’t help but think about the theatricality of the sport and I made a list of their most dramatic moments.

Once a theatre director, always a theatre director.

I’m open!—This full body plea for attention includes jumping up and down and waving your arms vigorously like you’re directing the pilot of a biplane where to land on a foggy runway. Yelling the name of the teammate with the ball repeatedly is also important.

I didn’t touch it!—If the ball is headed out of bounds, you want to make it clear that you didn’t touch it last. This move requires you to fake rigor mortis while performing a hands-up-don’t-shoot posture.

Setting the block.—When your teammate has the ball and needs to escape an opponent, you can stand stock still just a few inches away so they can dribble around you and leave the opponent unable to pursue. Using the same move in the aisle of a supermarket, however, might get you ejected from the store. Basketball is more forgiving.

What’s over there?—Any good magician will tell you that the trick is to make the audience focus on one hand while the other hand pockets the handkerchief, or playing card. If you have the ball and intend to pass it, your defender will try to block the pass in the direction that you just looked. When you make a successful fake, you can then pass it the other direction without interference. In theatre and film this is called the who’s-that-behind-the-curtain look and it just might save your character’s life!

The “I’m okay” limp—Among the unwritten laws of athletics is the obligation to play through your pain even to the point of permanent damage. However—and this is important—you never want to be perceived as failing to suffer for the game. Getting up from the floor and limping for six or seven steps can fulfill both of these expectations. Then you can return to the business of running around the court like a mad man.

Selling the foul.—At the other end of the spectrum from the “I’m okay” limp is the task of making sure everyone, especially the referee, sees that your opponent fouled you egregiously. Gotta earn those two free-throw shots, they’re not participation awards! If you’re gymnastically trained, a quick move by your opponent is an opportunity to tuck-and-roll for all your worth, making sure you finish flat on the floor, not leaping up victoriously as you did in gymnastics. If you don’t have that training, remember that the butt of your basketball shorts were made with fabric that will glide two or three yards across the polished floorboards while you mask your face with shock and disgust that anyone could use such unsportsmanlike tactics.

Modest scoring—No one likes a big ego, so when you score a nothing-but-net basket from outside the three point line, don’t show your excitement. Your inner child may be jumping up and down like a chimpanzee on crack, but you must adopt a too-cool-for-school expression. Everyone’s looking at you, and your face must say, “Yeah, I meant to do that.”

The agony of failure—The opposite of modest scoring is the trauma of failing to score. As an athlete and a team member, you have a duty to suffer deeply when you fail to make a shot. Not feeling it? Then fake it! Try screwing up your face and huffing like you’re about to cry but fighting it. (Also referred to as the Kyle Rittenhouse maneuver.) You may also throw yourself bodily onto the floor and pound the court with your fists. You might want to save that last move for the day when you fail to score the winning point that cost your team the game. They will expect no less.

This newsletter will be posted before the end of March Madness, so I encourage you to watch the game with your bingo cards ready to give due credit to the actors…um, athletes… on the boards.

TTFN

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If you received this email because it was forwarded to you by a subscriber, welcome. You can subscribe as well by following the link on my website: ericmargerum.com. A free story awaits you there.

Margerumalia – Friends, Lovers, and The Big Terrible Thing

Eric Margerum

Newsletter – March 27, 2026

Matthew Perry and I apparently wore the same Chandler Bing smirk to our photoshoots! Mine was about 1993, Perry’s was published on the cover of his memoir in 2022.

Could our smiles be any more similar?

I yield all future copyright for the Chandler smirk to him, but I want it to be known that my photoshoot was at least a year prior to the debut of Friends. Maybe two. I could hardly copy an expression that I had never seen before.

I bought the memoir shortly after he died in 2023. Ketamine overdose. I finally pulled it off the shelf because my wife found a TV channel that plays about four episodes of Friends back-to-back every afternoon.

Seeing Matty—as he refers to himself throughout the book—grow from a young 25 year-old into a mature 35 year-old over and over again drew me like a moth to his flame.

I had no idea about the intensity of that flame.

He was an addict from early, early, on. At two months, when he wouldn’t stop crying, the doctor prescribed phenobarbital to give some relief to the baby and his parents. Matty spent the rest of his life, taking drugs, drinking heavily, and smoking. Today, a colicky baby is treated with a nice round of probiotics, maybe some baby gas drops, and a warm belly rub. He is NOT given a highly addictive drug in the earliest days of his brain’s development.

Matty’s journey was a tough one and he’s brutally honest about it, but he also treats the reader to insights about his career, his relationships, and his dearest friendships.

The saddest part of the memoir is the conclusion where he’s finally out of the woods, saying that OxyContin will not rule his life again, the daily jugs of vodka are all in the past, and that he gave up smoking. To hear him say those words—literally, if you’re listening to him narrate the audiobook—while knowing he sank slowly into his swimming pool while Ketamine surged through his veins, is not easy when you think of him as one of your Friends.

God bless you, Matty, and may your afterlife provide all the remedies you spent 54 years trying your best to find.

TTFN

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In the spirit of Matthew Perry’s quick wit and love of laughter, I offer you my latest entry in the weekly caption contest from “The New Yorker.” Perhaps I’ll win one of these days.

I mean, it’s like she expects me to be an Everything Bagel!

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My middle grade novel, The Most Amazing Museum of Los Angeles is available through The BookBaby Bookshop at https://store.bookbaby.com/book/the-most-amazing-museum-of-los-angeles