Author: Kyle A. Massa (Page 1 of 27)

Back to the Past (And Future. And Present.)

April 8, 2024 / / 0 Comments

I’ve got a new book. Sort of.

In my ongoing effort to resell stuff I’ve already written, I’m releasing a paperback version of my triptych short story collection, Past, Present, Future. It’s not just a triptych anymore, either. It’s a…decarology?

Not sure if that’s the right word, but I’m using it anyway. This is a newly introduced and expanded edition, with 10 entries: Some reprints, some reimaginings, and some originals. All of them are appearing in print for the first time.

Now I’d like to give you a little insight into each of them, starting with…

“Hundredfingers”

Of the three stories that appeared in the original Past, Present, Future., this one has changed the most.

In January, I read Up Jumped the Devil, a biography of blues guitarist Robert Johnson, and I was struck by how reductive his legend has become. As the story goes, Johnson went down to the crossroads to sell his soul to the devil in exchange for guitar prowess. This folk tale is the driving inspiration behind “Hundredfingers.” (Note that Johnny was born the same year Robert died.)

It’s an entertaining yarn, but it’s unfair to the late great Johnson. He wasn’t given that talent—he earned it. And so, with my reimagining of this story, I tried to illustrate that point. I also added more humor, since my original version was far too self-serious.

“Are You Gonna Finish That?”

I find myself continuing to write about my old-world Italian grandparents. This probably won’t be the last time, either, since you still haven’t heard the story about Grandma and the hard-boiled egg. In this essay, I discuss my love of leftovers, and why it probably came from Grandma and Nonno.

“…So Then Ragnarok Came Early, And I Was Like…”

This is a drabble, or a story that’s exactly 100 words in length. I wrote it for an open submission call at Black Ink Fiction, with the theme being “snow.” It’s one of those rare instances where the story emerged pretty much as-is from the get-go.

…Except for New Jersey as the setting. That I added later. It just seems fitting that an apocalypse would start in New Jersey.

“About Cats”

A few months ago, I was reading an anthology about cats (it’s called On Cats). I was profoundly bummed to miss an opportunity to contribute, so I thought I’d just write my own essay on the subject. This is the result.

“Mad Scientist Seeking Intern for Spring Semester”

Aside from some touch-ups on a few of the jokes, this one’s unchanged from its original version. I toyed with the idea of providing a real email address for readers to send their resumes to, but once I saw how much work that would require, I gave up.

“A Sudden Stop on a Late Night Drive”

I’ve made many attempts at poetry, but this might be the only one that really, truly worked.

It sounds like a poem, it looks like a poem, and it tells a coherent story throughout. My writers’ group informed me that this story is quite similar to the film Harry and the Hendersons, which was a bothersome discovery. But rather than alter a work I was quite happy with, I acknowledged the similarity in the poem itself, then took a cheap shot at the movie for good measure.

“Earth’s Next Triple Threat”

This is another reprint based on a prompt, the prompt being that you’ve been abducted by aliens and need to convince them to return you to earth. The protagonist is me, right down to the Magic cards in the closet. You’ll have to read to find out if I made it back home.

“The Best Worst Holiday Gifts”

This is an entry from my blog, and I’m classifying it as “fictional nonfiction” because it feels like some of these products might one day exist (also, Chuck Klosterman once used this designation, and I thought it was cool).

The Covid Home Test Magic 8 Ball is probably my favorite on this list. You’ll have to tell me yours.

“Palm Reader”

This is one of the weirder things I’ve ever written, mostly because I don’t really know what it means or why I wrote it. It just sort of appeared on the page.

It probably has no meaning, though it feels like it might. There could be symbolism hidden inside, but if there is, I’m not privy to it. It is what it is, I suppose, which is to say, it’s an oddity. Or maybe not.

“Keyword”

This is the first and only romance I’ve ever written, though it’s pretty one-sided, since the whole conceit is that the narrator is a search engine. For legal reasons, I can’t tell you which search engine it is, but I can tell you which it’s not. It’s not Bing.

Get Your Copy

You can read the digital version of Past, Present, Future. for free by subscribing to my newsletter. Or, you can purchase a paperback copy from Amazon at this link. Either way, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy it!

Kyle A. Massa is a comedy author of some sort living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include five books, along with several short stories, essays, and poems. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

My Upcoming Book Schedule

April 1, 2024 / / 4 Comments

As you may or may not be aware, I recently released a (sort of) new book called Past, Present, Future. I’ve also got another, Remembering the End, arriving later this year. But those aren’t the only books coming to a shelf near you.

Today’s the perfect day to reveal all the books I’m working on. Let the hype-train commence its chugging.

The Woman with the Wine Glass

To capitalize on the trend of book club books about alcoholic shut-ins, I’m writing a twisty mystery about Lilith, an alcoholic shut-in.

One night while staring out the window and guzzling some Barefoot-brand white zinfandel, Lilith witnesses a heinous crime: Her neighbor beating her husband to death using a mini baseball bat from the Cooperstown Baseball Hall of Fame.

But did Lilith truly see what she thinks she saw, or was it a hallucination brought on by her wine-induced stupor? Not sure. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.

Expected release date: ASAP, since this literary fad should go the way of the vampire any day now.

Gerald Barkley Rocks: Kyle’s Version

(Cover originally designed by Nathan Rumsey and here modified by the author.)

Re-releasing a previously released album? That’s a Taylor Swift special. I haven’t dropped an album of my own (yet), so I suppose I’ll settle for my books.

The thing is, my first novel, Gerald Barkley Rocks, was already an independent release, meaning there’s no distributor to break free from. So, my plan is to copy and paste my book’s text into a new file, then slap “Kyle’s Version” on the cover and call it a day. Hopefully, my psychotic cult of fans will buy millions of copies so I can continue flying my private jet to the far reaches of the earth.

Expected release date: You’ll find out during the Grammys.

Spon Con: The Book

If you enjoy commercials during podcasts or the #ad hashtag, you’ll love this book. From cover to cover, it’s all product placements.

What for? Whatever you’ll pay me for. I’m opening this one up to advertisers, especially the ones who cold email me with no knowledge of who I am or what I do. I’m aiming for 300 pages, and every page is its own advertisement—the more garish, the better. Get your spot while they last.

Expected release date: April 2025, or whenever I accumulate enough money to buy an Alpha Black Lotus.

So Done with Airports: An Anti-Flyer’s Manifesto

Perhaps the most personal book I’ve ever written, this mad ranting is the perfect distillation of my hatred for the airline industry. I cover everything from security to bag policies to seat size. There’s even a chapter on how best to silently seethe while your seat-neighbor spreads over the armrest like a blob of molasses.

Expected release date: October 2025.

ChristmaTyranny: A Tale of Revolution & Retribution

Deep in the frozen wastes of the North Pole, Boss Santa rules as unquestioned god-king over his subjects. Christmas trees stand as monuments to his splendor, exhausted reindeer haul his chariot across the eternal night sky, and the vicious Gingerbread Mobsters serve as enforcers of his orthodoxy.

Under the sugar-laced thumb of this toy-making empire lies Bupkis, a lowly quality assurance elf who’s so bland and forgettable he must wear a nametag, despite working the same job all his life.

Yet when an underground insurgency force recruits Bupkis to overthrow Boss Santa’s corrupt regime, the elf’s true loyalties are put to the test. Is he really just the company man he appears to be, or is Bupkis deceiving both sides—and perhaps even himself?

One part spy thriller, one part heist adventure, and all parts festive, ChristmaTyranny is the gift that keeps on giving plot twists, right until the bittersweet end. Hailed as “anti-plutocracy ideology meets Elf,” there’s no better book to add to your stocking this holiday season.

Ho ho has gotta go.

Expected release date: Christmas 2025, of course.

Say Nothing & Complain About It Later: A Practical Guide to Passive-Aggression in the Workplace

Most business books offer suggestions on improving one’s corporate image, but instead of zigging, I’m zagging. Mine is all about letting the hate flow through you.

Angered by coworkers always leaving the water cooler empty? Annoyed by the inane chatter happening right outside your cubicle? Distressed by the state of the bathrooms? This book will help turn your simmer into a boil, making you the most passive-aggressive person in the office since Angela Martin. It even comes with a handy supplementary workbook containing future employment suggestions for after you’ve been fired.

Expected release date: Look, I’m working on it, alright? I’ll have an update by EOD.

Ceaseless Hype: A Memoir of My Dog

For those who’ve never met her, my dog Osi is a hyperactive four-year-old English Springer Spaniel who writes under the pen name “Psychopup.” Of course, no one ever believes she’s four, because she acts more like she’s four months. And now, I’m co-authoring a book with her.

It’s a slow process. Every time I try to schedule writing sessions, Osi’s eating, napping, or running wind sprints in the backyard. Plus, like many dogs, she has no fingers, so I’ll be doing all the typing.

Expected release date: Woof. (That’s a direct quote from Osi.)

Get Your Wallets Ready

These books are coming soon to online retailers near you—except ChristmaTyranny. I’ve just received word that Santa is suing me for libel, so that one’s on hold. Maybe I’ll write a book about the proceedings.

P.S. Happy Aprils Fools’ Day.

Kyle A. Massa is a comedy author of some sort living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include five books, along with several short stories, essays, and poems. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

So Long, Time

March 10, 2024 /

A clock ticks on for Daylight Savings Time.

This week’s post is a poem—or rather, a gripe. Maybe a poetic gripe. Whatever it is, it goes like this:

Crankiness. Bleariness. Sadness. Despair.

But Daylight Savings Time doesn’t care.

That is all. Get a nap if you can.

Kyle A. Massa is a comedy author of some sort living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include five books, along with several short stories, essays, and poems. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

The 7 Types of Karaoke Singers

February 26, 2024 /

The 7 Types of Karaoke Singers

Karaoke is an art form I’m passionate about. Perhaps a bit too passionate.

After all, I’ve already written an essay (published) and a short story (unpublished) on this very subject. It’s the next best thing to actually singing karaoke, which I haven’t done in quite some time. Nonetheless, if I can’t do it, I’ll write about it.

With all that experience, there’s something I’ve noticed about karaoke singers: They come in archetypes. In no particular order, here they are.

No. 1: The Overqualifier

The Overqualifier is often a member of their community a cappella group, a karaoke regular, or both. Whoever they are, they’re way too good to be singing at karaoke, because their talent defeats the entire purpose.

I mean, in what other context are lousy singers not only accepted, but encouraged? Speaking as a C+ singer myself, we’re unwelcome in most places. I’m not even welcome in my own home, sometimes, like when I endlessly repeat lines from King Gizzard’s “The Dripping Tap” and my wife loses patience. Sorry, Sara.

What I’m trying to say is, there’s only one place lousy singers can sing publicly, and it’s karaoke. Talented singers get to sing everywhere else, including outdoor stages, concert halls, and TV shows with critical yet occasionally touchingly supportive British judges.

They’ll select an expert-level song, probably something from Wicked or something by Adele, and they’ll sing it note-for-note. If you’ve ever gotten dirty looks from the average joes in the bar after nailing the high note in Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody,” you might be the Overqualifier.

No. 2: The Drunk

The Drunk might be talented. They might not be. It’s hard to tell, because all that alcohol is making them sound like Chewbacca.

Still, the Drunk is not without a certain charm (so long as they’re not vomiting). After all, alcohol is an essential add-on to the karaoke experience, like amphetamines at an EDM show. That said, the drunk has a short shelf life. They can be entertaining for a while, but when they start slurring the words to “Wonderwall,” they should probably head out.

If you sing karaoke while drunk, you’re probably the Drunk.

No. 3: The Screen Starer

You know that moment when your cat stares into the corner of the room without blinking, and you look into the same corner, only you don’t see anything, but the cat keeps on staring, and after a while you wonder if a ghost is crouched in the corner staring back, and you whisper, “Loon? What is it? Is someone there?”, and your cat still stares at the corner for another minute or two, and then she finally stops and you realize you peed yourself a little? That’s essentially what happens with the Screen Starer. (The staring part, not the peeing part.)

The Screen Starer is someone who doesn’t sing karaoke often, so they’re a little nervous. They probably know the lyrics, but don’t trust themselves enough to overcome stage fright. As a result, they sing their entire song to the prompter, like a cat staring at a ghost in a corner.

If your contacts pop out because you went three minutes and 26 seconds without blinking because you were staring at the scrolling lyrics to Amy Winehouse’s “Rehab,” you might be the Screen Starer.

No. 4: The Boss

I don’t mean Bruce Springsteen, although a Boss might sing Bruce’s “Jungleland.” The Boss is that person who picks a lengthy rock epic, even when they shouldn’t.

If you would even consider singing any of the following songs at karaoke, you are the Boss: 

  • “Stairway to Heaven” by Led Zeppelin
  • “Free Bird” by Lynyrd Skynyrd
  • “The End” by The Doors
  • The double-digit-minute version of “All Too Well” by Taylor Swift
  • Any song from a live Phish album

The Boss can be intimidating because they only care about their own satisfaction. They want to sing a song, usually a long one, and they don’t care if you like it or not—you’re gonna hear it, anyway.

No. 5: The Downer

Similar to the Boss, the Downer has a complete inability to read a room. Thus, they select songs like Johnny Cash’s “Hurt” while there’s a bachelorette party going on in the corner.

If anyone’s ever inquired about your wellbeing after your karaoke performance, you might be the Downer.

No. 6: The Gesticulator

The Gesticulator isn’t as talented as the Overqualifier, and they know it. That’s why they gesticulate. They’re relying on theatrics to distract from their voice, which may or may not sound like Moe Szyslak.

The Gesticulator has a difficult balance to manage. Anything too choreographed seems trite, while anything too spontaneous seems chaotic. The best tactics often involve humor, such as doing the River Dance during the bagpipe solo in AC/DC’s “It’s a Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna Rock ‘n’ Roll).” Some Gesticulators employ props, such as chairs, martini glasses, or their own removed clothing.

If you’ve ever earned a cheer from a karaoke crowd by doing something other than singing, you’re probably the Gesticulator.

No. 7: The Scott Stapp

Look, anyone who has the gumption to sing Creed at karaoke deserves their own category, which I’ve named after Creed’s singer. Creed is the preeminent example of an unofficial subgenre I call “Douchebag Rock.” It’s basically any artist where their lyrics make you sound like an asshole just by singing them, yet everyone agrees they’re catchy enough to earn a pass. Nickelback and Matchbox Twenty are in there as well.

Truth is, I myself am a Scott Stapp. I hope you haven’t lost respect for me (if you hadn’t already). But have you ever tried singing the chorus to “One Last Breath” without tearing up? It can’t be done, I tell you.

There You Have It

Confession time: In addition to the Scott Stapp, I’m a Gesticulator and a bit of a Screen Watcher. Which type of karaoke singer are you?

Kyle A. Massa is a comedy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include five books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

The World Without Teeth

January 29, 2024 /

Smile!

Or don’t. Because in this hypothetical alternate universe, nobody has teeth. That’s the nightmarish scenario we are examining today in our ongoing “World Without” series.

But fear not, dear reader. I think there would be upsides to this world, too. So, without further ado, let’s get into it. In a world without teeth…

…Vampires Would Have It Worst

Humans need teeth to chew, but there’s still lots of food we can eat without them (I’ll be addressing this topic shortly). But think of the poor vampires.

Without teeth, how would they extract blood? A needle, I’m guessing, though I’m pretty sure you need a medical license for that. Maybe they’d just use a knife or a letter opener, but those feel too inelegant—not to mention messy—for any self-respecting vampire.

Now I suppose we could compare who has it worse: Dracula or Edward Cullen. But I’d rather not. Suffice it to say that all the vampires out there would be bummed.

…A Lot of Songs Wouldn’t Exist

In no particular order:

  • “Teeth” by Lady Gaga
  • “Brush Your Teeth” by Raffi
  • “Smile” by Wolf Alice
  • “Smile” by Avril Lavigne
  • “Smile” by Katy Perry

The Wolf Alice song is my favorite in the above list, though the Raffi tune comes in a close second, because it makes brushing my daughter’s teeth a little easier.

…Pictures Would Be a Lot More Awkward

Unless you’re a Civil War general circa 1863, your first instinct in a picture is probably smiling. But in a world without teeth, smiling becomes a lot less attractive.

Perhaps we’d go back to the 1800s approach, which means glaring sternly into the lens. Not exactly profile pic material, but necessary, considering the circumstances.

…The Tooth Fairy Would Go Out of Business

Because if she’s not collecting teeth in exchange for money, what other jettisoned scrap of the human body is she collecting? Hair? Toenails? Probably best not to speculate.

…The Gruel Market Would Explode

And I don’t mean literally (unless there’s a gruel-based chemical reaction I’m not aware of). Rather, in a world where you can’t chew, I believe gruel would be the food of choice.

What is gruel, exactly? I’m unsure. I think it’s the stuff they feed to prisoners in the Gulag. Whatever it is, it sounds funny, and I suspect it tastes something like grits, only better.

Of course, other foods would still be viable. Soups, smoothies, and the like would work. Also, baby food, some of which is surprisingly tasty. Just ask my wife, Sara, who enjoys our daughter’s puréed pears.

In fact, now that I think about it, babies are the prime example of a toothless world. Fortunately, most of them seem pretty happy—though maybe that’s because they can poop their pants whenever they want and someone else will deal with the mess.

Also, babies’ lack of teeth adds to their cuteness. Even when they do their gum-smiles, it’s adorable. I imagine it would be less adorable if someone like me, for example, a 31-year-old man with mushroom-shaped hair, were to do it.

I mean, if I smiled at you with no teeth, I doubt you’d be thinking, Aww, how cute! Instead, you’d probably be wondering, How much crack has that man smoked?

…Or Maybe the Denture Market Would Explode, Instead? Maybe?

Dentures are the standard substitute for teeth, yet in a world without teeth, would we have any concept of dentures? Maybe we’d all just slurp our gruel in ignorance of what could’ve been.

…Halloween Would End. (And I Don’t Mean Like That Movie, “Halloween Ends”—I Mean Literally.)

That’s because most Halloween candy requires teeth to consume. Snickers bars? Yes. Candy corn? Definitely. Taffy? You bet your ass.

I suppose you could continue the tradition of dressing up and visiting other people’s houses. But without the promise of candy, what exactly are you demanding from the people you visit? More gruel?

…Dentistry Wouldn’t Exist

Depending on your dentist, this might not be a bad thing. I don’t mean to be critical, but some dentists can be hyper critical.

“Your teeth are two different colors.” “You’re not flossing enough.” “You appear to have an alien tracking device lodged inside your molar.” These are all statements I’ve heard dentists say to myself or people I know. Except that last one—I got that from The X-Files.

…Cats Would Be Cool With It

Because many cats, including my parents-in-laws’ cat, Spice, have diseased teeth pulled later in life. When Sara and I heard this happened to Spice, we were aghast.

“Oh no,” we said. “Is she alright?”

Sara’s mom, Karen, only shrugged and said, “She still eats the same food. It’s not all that different.”

So there you have it. Without teeth, cats would be just as unimpressed as usual.

…I Would’ve Been a Less Dangerous Child

Yes, I was a biter, and I didn’t even have rabies. I don’t know why—I just enjoyed biting people. My mom tells me she got regular reports of me biting other children at school, which must’ve been alarming, to say the least. What’s more, I have a vague memory of biting my sister when she beat me at a friendly game of Horse. Sorry, Emily.

Problem is, bites can hurt just as much without teeth, as I experienced with my daughter, Sasha, when she was an infant. One time she tried eating a scrap of construction paper, and when I reached in there to fish it out, it felt like a garage door slamming on my finger.

Sashie isn’t an aggressive biter, but she does bite. Like, sometimes we’ll be hugging each other, and she’ll rest her chin on my shoulder, and it’ll seem like a sweet father-daughter moment until I feel a pinch and realize she’s gnawing on my collarbone. I suspect she’ll draw blood soon, and I’ll have no one to blame but myself. That’s how karma works.

Anyhoo, in a world without teeth, I would’ve been a little safer. But now that Sasha’s teeth have grown in, I’m in serious danger.

…The World Would Be Far Different

So I guess we can smile, because teeth still exist. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go eat something crunchy. I’ve made myself very hungry…

Kyle A. Massa is a comedy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include five books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

You can read more from the “World Without” blog series here. And if you want to see a specific topic, email kyle@kyleamassa.com.

New Year, New Mailbag

January 14, 2024 /

A brown sack on a yellow field. Exciting, I know.

As has become an annual tradition, I recently ran a survey with my newsletter subscribers. Were their questions awesome? Absolutely—and you can have that answer for free.

…Oh yeah, and the rest are free, too. Here they are!

1. What is the genre of your writing?

It’s funny you should ask that, because I myself am not quite sure. So far, I’ve written sci-fi, mystery, epic fantasy, and creative nonfiction in the forms of novels, novellas, short stories, poetry, and essays. Is hodgepodge a genre?

No matter what I’m writing, I strive to unify my work with humor. I’ll continue to do so with my future endeavors (one of which may or may not be a poetry collection).

2. Is Nairn Lockwood going to get her own book?

Whoever submitted this question is a real one.

For context, Nairn Lockwood is the co-hero of my novella “The Megrim,” appearing in the short fiction collection Monsters at Dusk. She’s brave, brash, and greedy, though she’s got more heart than she lets on. Plus, she’s as big a fan of leftovers as I am, which is really saying something.

So, as this intelligent and thoughtful person wondered, will Lockwood get her own book? The short answer is this: It’s already in the works.

Ever since completing “The Megrim” in 2019, I’ve been brainstorming Lockwood’s next adventure (accompanied by her sidekick Pureman Wendyll—can’t forget him). I even wrote an outline for a potential sequel, one I’m quite proud of. Its setting is a cross between Ancient Rome and modern-day Las Vegas.

I expect that story and any subsequent ones will be standalone novellas, where each tale follows a new challenge for Lockwood and Wendyll. When I’ve got enough material for a book, I’ll collect them all and publish them for your reading pleasure.

I don’t have a release date for you, but it might come sooner rather than later now that I know someone’s anticipating it!

3. Could you please write a zombie comedy? I think you would do it well!

Why thank you!

I’ve never considered writing about zombies because, honestly, I’m afraid of them. I remember seeing Shaun of the Dead as a 12-year-old and being scared shitless (excuse my French). Later I tried The Walking Dead, and though I enjoyed the first few episodes, I never kept up.

Keeping up is part of the challenge with zombies—and I don’t mean keeping up with your fellow humans while the horde is hot on your heels. I mean zombies have become as well-trodden a sub-genre as vampires, rife with tropes and clichés and reader expectations up the whazoo. If one elects to write in this space, they’d better do their research.

I haven’t, but maybe someday I will. I tend to follow my passions, so who knows? Maybe one day I’ll get over my fear and start writing.

4. Why isn’t comedy included [in your genre list]? I love your comedic sci-fi / fantasy stuff.

To explain, I asked respondents what genres they read, though I didn’t include comedy among my multiple choices. That’s because I don’t always view comedy as a literary genre unto itself—I view it as a tone, at least in my work. After all, I try to inject humor into everything I write, even places it doesn’t belong (e.g. a haiku about cutting my cats’ nails).

Still, it’s an interesting question: Is comedy its own genre? In film, that’s an obvious “yes,” with countless movies created for the sole purpose of generating laughs (see, for example, the works of Nicolas Cage).

I find the answer is murkier in books. Though comedy exists in literature, it’s often blended with better-defined genres. Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse-Five, for instance, has a darkly humorous tone, but it’s hard to classify it as anything other than science-fiction.

Genre debates like these have raged for centuries, though they’re about as useful as sports topics on First Take, which is to say, not very. But like Stephen A., that won’t stop me from debating them!

5. [Your survey question] could be replaced by “how many of my books have you downloaded and not gotten around to reading yet?”

To explain this answer, I asked people which of my books they’ve read, if any. The above was one person’s response.

Owning more books than can be read is a common phenomenon. You could build mountain ranges out of peoples TBR piles. From personal experience, I can attest that I’ve got a laundry basket full of unread books by my bedside, one which my wife, Sara, is not especially happy about. (I’m sorry, Sara.)

So, PSA to the readers out there: We need to borrow from libraries more often. I utilize my local library’s digital collection, where they offer thousands of ebooks and audiobooks, all for free. I even learned New York State residents can earn membership to the New York Public Library, which offers a dwarven treasure-trove of knowledge.

Also, if you’ll allow me a brief and shameful plug, you might find my epic fantasy-comedy novel Eggs for the Ageless among your local library’s digital collection. Okay, plug over.

6. I am new to your books and would like to know more about you.

Well hi! I write pretty much whatever I feel like writing, which ranges from the genres and styles I mentioned in question one to future stuff I’m too afraid to reveal.

A few other random facts about me:

  • I root for the New York Giants. It’s often painful.
  • I’m not unconvinced there aren’t alien tourists visiting our planet for funzies.
  • I like cats because I see a lot of myself in them.
  • I once wrote a short story about a commune of geriatric cannibals living in a New York City neighborhood.
  • “Anyhoo” might be my favorite word.

Thanks for your questions!

They’re always a delight to answer. If you’ve got any more, please send them to kyle@kyleamassa.com and I’ll be happy to reply. I just can’t promise I won’t use the word “anyhoo.”

Kyle A. Massa is an author of some sort living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include five books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

Thoughts on Crocs

January 7, 2024 /

As part of my ongoing attempt to make a complete ass of myself, let me tell you about my new Crocs.

I got them for Christmas. (Shout out to my mother-in-law, Karen.) They’re the Moon Jelly variety, which is a weird way of saying they’re periwinkle. This color is a bit more feminine than it appeared on the website, but that doesn’t stop me from wearing them. Everywhere.

I wear them on dog walks. I wear them shopping. I considered wearing them to a restaurant recently, though I opted not to embarrass my wife, Sara, by association.

This is the conflict every Croc-wearer must consider when venturing into public. Humiliation or contentment. Ridicule or comfort. To Croc, or not to Croc. We all know which Hamlet would choose.

It’s a constant struggle. No one in their right mind would wear shoes that look like hardened blocks of Swiss cheese with the handle of a child’s pail attached to the back unless they were extraordinarily comfortable.

Speaking of children, they can actually pull off Crocs. On kids, Crocs look cute, whereas on adults, they look like a mistake. My daughter Sasha has four pairs—yes, you read that right—and she loves all of them. She even puts them on her baby dolls, proving that she understands the rules.

Despite my newfound admiration for my new footwear, I draw the line at gibbets. Not to be confused with the giblets from inside a turkey, gibbets are those little tchotchkes you stuff into the holes of your Crocs so you can look even more silly.

Gibbets or no, I used to be very judgmental about Crocs. Man, I’d think to myself, Those shoes sure look dumb. Then, one day, I needed foot protection down in my unfinished basement. I practice music down there, plus it’s where our cats poop (these two events rarely happen simultaneously). Sneakers felt like too much work, my work shoes required dress socks, and our dog had stolen my slippers. All that was left were Sara’s Crocs. So I wore them into the basement.

Something strange happened over the next few weeks. I’d be out in public, getting gas or buying groceries, and I’d look down to find Sara’s Crocs attached to my feet.

Man, I’d think to myself, These shoes still look dumb. But then other thoughts crept in: Hey, that’s a nice breeze coming through the holes. I didn’t even need to bend down to tie any laces. And I thought that handle on my ankle might chafe, only I can barely feel it.

After a while, I was wearing Sara’s Crocs more than Sara. It was only a matter of time until I got a pair of my own. Not that I bought them—I’m too cheap to buy nice things. Even Crocs.

I’m wearing them as I write this, and I must admit, they’re a marvel. What other shoe comes with both a sport and a leisure mode? What other product slips on easy as a sandal, yet hides my hairy hobbit feet so well?

None other. Like the One Ring, there is only one supreme power, and its name is Crocs.

Not only are these shoes cushy—they’re sustainable. I hear they’re made from boiled cabbage or something, which sounds unbelievable until you feel them. The material is not quite plastic and not quite styrofoam. I suspect alien skin has a similar texture.

Though Crocs feel strange and look even stranger, their semi-edible quality is just another point in their favor. Imagine you’re stranded on an island like Tom Hanks in Castaway, but instead of befriending a volleyball, you only have your shoes as company.

Think you could roast your Jordans over a fire and get any nutritional value? Please. If you had Crocs, why, they’d make for not one, but two scrumptious island meals. Now that’s comfort.

That’s what Crocs provide. Comfort. Not just comfort for my weird hairy hobbit feet, not just the comfort of a meal in a pinch, but comfort for my ego, which is protected like organs beneath a bulletproof vest. Can any words harm me while I’m wearing something as goofy as Crocs? I’m insulting myself enough already. There’s nothing anyone can say to hurt me worse.

So, in the everlasting conflict between functionality and fashion, I’ll opt for the former. After all, if style is a battle, then Crocs are the proverbial white flag—or, in my case, the Moon Jelly flag. I’ll wave it high. I’ll wave it proud.

Kyle A. Massa is an author of some sort living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include five books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

The World Without Albany, NY

November 29, 2023 /

Albany marked on a map of New York State.

Or as we call it around here, Smallbany.

Yes, I reside in our titular city. I have most of my life. We don’t have the glamor of Los Angeles, the thrill of New Orleans, or the sleaze of Philadelphia, but we’ve got…umm, other stuff. In this article, we’ll explore this great city’s hypothetical absence further.

So, without further ado, in a world without Albany…

…America Wouldn’t Exist

Before you scoff, just remember that one of the 56 signers of the Declaration of Independence was a cat named Philip Livingston, who happened to be an Albany native. Without him, were those other 55 white guys really going to sign the paper? My imagination says no…

Independence Hall in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Founding Fathers sit around debating stuff.

Samuel Adams: Pass me another Cold Snap.

Benjamin Franklin: Somebody cut that guy off. And where the hell is Livingston?

Thomas Jefferson: Late. He’s coming from Albany. 87 is brutal this time of day.

Benjamin Franklin: That’s the city with the Empire State Plaza buildings that look like a bunch of radiators, right?

Benjamin Rush: Those don’t exist yet. And neither does I-87. Now are we gonna sign this thing or what? I gotta rush home.

John Hancock: I’m down. I’ve been practicing my signature.

Benjamin Franklin: Yeah, we know, Hancock. But we’ve got to wait. We can’t sign anything without Livingston.

Benjamin Rush: Why not?

John Adams: Because then we’d only have 55 signers.

Benjamin Rush: So?

Thomas Jefferson: Because we already commissioned the monument, and I’m not paying for touch-ups, okay? Let’s just wait for Livingston.

Josiah Bartlett: Hear, hear.

Benjamin Franklin: Who are you again?

You get the idea. Without Albany there’s no Philip Livingston, and without Philip Livingston, there’s no Declaration of Independence. You’re welcome, America.

…High School English Students Would Be More Cheerful

And I don’t just mean those from Albany. You see, in many American high school English classes, students are forced to read Moby-Dick by Herman Melville. I’ve only met a single person in my life who enjoyed that book: My dad. (Shoutout to my dad.) For everyone else, the 50-page descriptions of whale blubber aren’t exactly thrilling.

What does all this boredom have to do with Albany? Well, Mr. Melville earned his adolescent education at Albany Academy (where I also worked as a camp counselor for, like, seven summers, NBD). Without Albany there’d be no education, and without the education there’d be no book, and without the book there’d be less drudgery for subsequent high school students. And if they could destroy Albany just to spare themselves from Moby-Dick, I think some would.

…New York City Would Be the State’s Capital

Non-New Yorkers might be surprised to recall this, but no, the Big Apple is not the state’s capital. It’s Albany. Yet without the latter, the capital wouldn’t be Buffalo or Rochester or Syracuse. Saratoga, maybe. But in all likelihood, it would be NYC.

I love the City, but it already has enough going for it, such as the New York Stock Exchange, the Statue of Liberty, New Year’s Eve celebrations, Madison Square Garden, and the New York Yankees.

By comparison, what does Albany have aside from being the capital? We have Nipper, a 28-foot tall replica terrier that sits atop a building downtown. And that’s about it, as evidenced by my next point.

…My Wife Would Have More To Do

When Sara and I considered moving back to Albany in 2016, she asked me to describe the city. Here’s my comprehensive list of amenities:

“Well, there’s the Egg, the mastodon museum, and the Magic store.”

The Egg is a performing arts center downtown that resembles an egg yolk, hence the name. The mastodon museum is my shorthand for The New York State Museum, which boasts the skeleton of a mastodon. And the Magic store is Flipside Gaming, a local hobby shop I patronize every few months so I can lose at the popular trading card game Magic: The Gathering.

For Sara, this wasn’t much of a sales pitch. I’m surprised she still wanted to move, because we were leaving Denver, Colorado, a far cooler town. Yet she joined me nonetheless, and we’ve been here ever since. I consider myself very lucky.

…Sports Franchises Would Go Somewhere Else to Die

Albany is famous for attracting third-rate professional sports teams that leave after a handful of years. It happened to the River Rats, the Devils, the Firebirds, and most recently—and painfully—to the Empire.

I loved the Albany Empire, albeit mostly from a comedy standpoint. My good buddies Jeremy and Ryan had season tickets with their family, so they’d sometimes invite me to games.

These games weren’t only entertaining—they were educational. After all, we learned new rules every time we attended. Did you know players could catch touchdown passes off the screen behind the goalposts, almost like a bank shot in basketball? We didn’t, either…until the Empire did it.

The team boasted numerous memorable characters, including a guy with the nickname “Boom-Boom” (can’t remember his legal name) who celebrated touchdowns by standing on the logo and pretending to rev a push lawnmower. It was transcendent.

But of all the characters on the Albany Empire, the greatest was the quarterback, Tom Grady. Not Brady. Grady. Jeremy and I designed shirts with the B crossed out and replaced with a G. I still wear mine.

Though Grady wasn’t quite as successful as his NFL counterpart, he still put up stats (number six all-time in passing yards and number five in passing touchdowns, according to ArenaFan.com). One time he was signing autographs on the sidelines prior to a big-time game (one-dollar hot dog night), and Jeremy and I would’ve asked for his signature on our custom-made shirts, if only the other autograph-seekers weren’t 12-year-old children. Later, in 2019, Grady led the Empire to the ArenaBowl XXXII title. The fans even stormed the field, which was the greatest moment in Albany history since earning a shoutout in the Erie Canal song.

Sadly, a less savory character arrived to ruin it all: Antonio Brown.

You might remember AB as an electrifying wide receiver for the Pittsburgh Steelers, an equally electrifying complainer for the Oakland Raiders (for whom he never played a snap), and an even more electrifying quitter for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. After the NFL gave up on him, you might’ve thought he’d start a cult or something. Instead, he became the majority owner of the Albany Empire.

This was fun at first, since famous people avoid Albany like my cats avoid my dog. However, based on Brown’s previous behavior, everyone knew where this was going. And it went there.

Brown started by failing to pay players, then cutting them when they complained. The Empire’s coaching staff was no exception to this merciless treatment; according to a brilliant ESPN story chronicling the whole sad affair, the team had three different head coaches in a five-game stretch. AB wasn’t paying his league dues, either, and with seven games still left to play on the schedule in 2022, the league voted out the Empire. And once again, Albany lost a pro team.

That ended up being a long anecdote. But few momentous events happen in Albany, so we’ve got to celebrate them all, even the failures. Especially the failures.

…My Family Would Have Fewer Hilarious Stories of Bureaucratic Dysfunction

Both my parents worked for New York State, so they’ve got hours of content on this subject. For instance, my mom worked in the Department of Education (shoutout to my mom), and during one meeting, the office brass distributed newly designed business cards, stressing how important and paradigm-shifting they would be. Then someone raised their hand.

“You spelled ‘education’ wrong,” they said.

Now if that isn’t a moment straight out of The Office, I don’t know what is.

…The Movie Salt Would Not Exist

Salt is a middling 2010 action-thriller starring Angelina Jolie as a spy or something. Fact is, the only reason I watched Salt is because it features a pivotal chase sequence shot in Albany. Evidently, ours was the only city willing to shut down its multi-tiered highway system for several days, just for some cash and a “special thanks” in the credits.

Though the scene is supposed to take place in Washington, DC, you can spot numerous Albany landmarks in the background, including the aforementioned New York State Museum and a decaying warehouse that’s stood downtown since I was a kid. Albany wins again.

…I Wouldn’t Exist, Either

There’s no me without Albany, and I’m not just saying that because it rhymes. I was born at Albany Med and have lived here pretty much all my life, so without it, I wouldn’t be here, and you wouldn’t be reading this, and you’d never know about Philip Livingston, and that would be sad for all involved.

…The World Would Be Far Less Interesting

Albany might not be one of the premier cities in the country, but it’s home. Here’s hoping our next sports franchise fares a little better.

Kyle A. Massa is a comedy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include five books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

You can read more from the “World Without” blog series here. And if you want to see a specific topic, email kyle@kyleamassa.com.

911, What’s Your Emergency?

November 19, 2023 /

An animated GIF of a 911 call making a smartphone buzz.

Here in the United States, if you’ve got an emergency, you’re probably calling one of two numbers: 911, or your mother. In this blog post, we’ll discuss the former.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

This is how 911 operators always answer the phone, and I think it’s a good policy. Otherwise, you might have situations like this…

…[Dial tone.]…

“Hello?”

“HELP! The call was coming from inside the house and now some masked psychopath is trying to murder me!”

“I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong number. This is Arby’s. May I take your order?”

You may be wondering how my hypothetical victim dialed Arby’s instead of an emergency hotline, and the simple answer is, I have no idea. Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, modern 911 operators know what they’re doing.

You can see it in their choice of question. “What’s your emergency?” Presumptuous, maybe, but also warranted, considering one only calls in dire situations. Surely nobody would ever do something like this…

…[Dial tone.]…

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Just watching the Giants game. You?”

“This number is for emergencies only.”

“I know, that’s why I called. Have you seen Tommy DeVito play quarterback?”

The “what’s your emergency line” isn’t one of those movie inventions, by the way. It’s real. I’ve had occasion to call the police twice in my life, and I assure you, these are the first words spoken when you call.

Now if you’re a cold-hearted individual, that might give you an idea. You might wonder if this job could be outsourced to AI. After all, if all one does is utter a pre-written line and record information, couldn’t that task be automated?

I certainly hope not. Imagine, for example, you found yourself in a life-or-death situation, and when you called 911 looking for help, Siri answered. Here’s the transcript of your conversation…

…[Dial tone.]…

“Siri here, what’s your emergency?”

“Help me, Siri, the masked psychopath has returned! I’m being murdered again!”

“On it…”

“Huh?”

“Here’s what I found on the web for ‘masked psychopath.'”

Then she’d serve you results for discount Halloween costumes, which would be great if only you weren’t getting disemboweled.

With Siri, this is par for the course. I frequently ask her questions (e.g. “At what level does Charizard learn Flamethrower?”), and rather than giving me a straight answer, she farms out the work to a web search. It could be worse—she could be using Bing instead of Google. But there’s never any compassion, which is why I don’t want Siri or any other AI fielding my call. I want a trained operator, dammit.

I know I took a jab at movies a few paragraphs ago, but if we’ve learned anything from them, it’s that 911 operators are dedicated individuals, albeit a little psycho-obsessive sometimes. For a perfect example, see Jake Gyllenhaal in The Guilty. If you’re in a pinch, you’d prefer someone who will literally—spoiler—go to jail for you. Not freaking Siri.

So here’s to all the 911 operators out there. You’re all heroes, or at least better at your job than AI would be. I salute you, I commend you, and when you ask me what my emergency is, I’ll gladly tell you. And thanks for asking.

Kyle A. Massa is a comedy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include five books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

The World Without Halloween

October 31, 2023 /

Halloween

This article might be controversial. After all, Halloween is a beloved holiday. In fact, in terms of belovedness, it’s right up there with Thanksgiving, Christmas, and International Juggling Day. Maybe not that last one.

But hey, this series is often about appreciating subjects through their hypothetical absence. So let’s start appreciating. In a world without Halloween…

…Michael Myers Would Actually, Really, Seriously Be Dead

Because he’d never exist. Get it?

For the record, I wouldn’t mourn. Though most regard John Carpenter’s 1978 slasher film Halloween as an all-time classic, I think it’s overrated. I recognize everything it did for the genre, but I find it tiresome when Mikey survives for, like, the 13th time.

Speaking of 13, that’s how many Halloween films exist. I’m not exaggerating. I’ve only seen the original, so I can’t vouch for the rest, yet something tells me Rob Zombie shouldn’t be making movies. That said, his and all the Halloween movies are undeniably lucrative; they’ve grossed a collective $885,966,037 worldwide, according to Wikipedia.

Imagine what filmgoers might’ve spent all that money on instead. Probably a different holiday-themed horror franchise, like an ornery cyclist who runs people off the road to their dooms on National Bicycle Day (Google assures me this is an actual day). I’d call it Cycle of Violence. Hey, did I just become a multi-million dollar movie executive?

…Trick-or-Treating Wouldn’t Be a Thing

This would be a massive blow to the Candy Industrial Complex, which invented Halloween just to clear their back stock of Baby Ruths. But won’t someone please think of the children? They are the ones who would suffer most. For kids, Halloween ranks higher on the grand fun meter than Paw Patrol, bounce houses, and TikTok.

…Well, maybe not TikTok. But if it does, that’s really saying something.

…No More Costumes, Either

Everybody loves dressing up for Halloween. Except me.

One year, for example, my mom spent hours doing my Count Dracula makeup. She’s a painter, by the way, so it was excellent. However, I took one look at myself in the mirror and became terrified of my reflection (ironic, considering I was a vampire). My poor mom watched as all her hard work went down the drain—literally. Ever since, I’ve been a curmudgeon with costumes. Sorry, Mom.

However, I believe I’m in the minority on that. Many people enjoy donning their Halloween costumes, including NFL fans attending games on or near our titular holiday. I once spotted a man in the stands wearing an Aaron Rodgers jersey overtop a Minion costume jeering at Kirk Cousins while drinking a Pabst. It was quite the sight.

…There Would Be No Controversies Over Halloween Candy

Might not be a bad thing, considering these are some of our dumbest controversies. Every year, people earnestly argue that candy corn is a quality candy, or isn’t, then get outraged by the response. This is about as productive as pounding one’s head against a door—and likely has a similar effect on the brain. That said, I just poked fun at Baby Ruths a few paragraphs back, so I’m part of the problem.

…Horror Movies Would Diminish in Popularity (Slightly)

We all know half the fun of Halloween is watching scary movies with loved ones (or, if you happen to be crowded into a theater with noisy strangers, hated ones).

To be clear, horror movies are eternal, and I would never suggest that killing Halloween would kill their popularity. But there’s no doubt this would reduce it, at least a little. After all, what other time of year would horror movie viewership peak? Spring? Too hopeful. Winter? Too Christmas-y. Summer? Too packed with Marvel movies. Halloween, and fall in general, is just right.

…The Dark Knight Wouldn’t Exist

At least not in its current form. That’s because the film’s plot was inspired by Batman: The Long Halloween by Jeph Loeb & Tim Sale, a graphic novel that features a killer who murders on holidays, starting with—you guessed it—Halloween.

Without Halloween there’s no comic, and without the comic there’s no inspiration, meaning Christopher Nolan and co. would have to look elsewhere for ideas, perhaps returning to the campiness of the Adam West Batman. Somehow, I don’t think Shark Repellent Bat Spray jives with, “Some men just want to watch the world burn.”

Furthermore, speaking from personal experience, losing this film would be a tremendous blow, not least of all because I saw it four times in theaters. Being a high school sophomore at the time, I was convinced it was the greatest movie ever made by anyone, ever. I’ve since decided that distinction belongs to Troll 2, but Dark Knight is still in my top 10.

…Your Neighbors Would Have More Lawn Space

This one is self-explanatory.

…The World Would Be Far Less Interesting

Happy Halloween! Hope you enjoy all that candy corn.

Kyle A. Massa is a comic fantasy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include five books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

You can read more from the “World Without” blog series here. And if you want to see a specific topic, email kyle@kyleamassa.com.

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