- Nominated Best Play, Best Production, including a LA Drama Critics Circle.
This is how the story starts:
"Don't ask me to do this, you maniac."
Dana sat starched with tension on a cushion on the floor, pushing her hair out of her eyes. Six years a bed mate but never seriously a candidate for wife, she stared at Brody as if he had abruptly materialized out of thin air on the couch in front of her.
"No, listen." Brody could be annoyingly persistent. "The trick is to say it first, then as you say it - hear it, then feel it, until finally you taste it in all its connotations, denotations, and verbosity and then it's, like, there, on your tongue, palpable and tactile, a gustation. Then you swallow it"
Dana stared at him. "What happened to your vocabulary? It's gotten, I don't know - obese! Or something."
The story continues ...
Brody had long ago lost track of how many miles of type he had emitted in grey column inches since he apprenticed himself to the newspaper business. But the day the word offered him its round, succulent body was like the surrender to a campaign of seduction that had stretched over years.
At first the idea had repelled him, just as it now seemed to repel Dana. It was like the suggestion that he should taste raw meat, or an oyster, or a cuttlefish, something too close for comfort to the sentient organism, something not meant to be ingested at all, let alone enjoyed. But when at last he gave in, and bit into the word, and rolled it around his tongue, the sensation was so alluring that he could barely wait to try it again.
So he'd kept it a secret. But something like that could not, of course, stay secret for long. The first leak had sprung four months before ...
Latest commissions, ideas, concepts, sketches, scripts under construction - Kenneth Cavander is always exploring new subject matter. Among the projects engaging him at present ... Read More