Book of the Year Awards

Posted 14 Mar 2011 — by admin
Category Our Jewish Robot Future
Our Jewish Robot FutureWe had a wonderful surprise in our inbox today. ForeWord‘s Book of the Year Award finalists for 2010 have been announced! Clicking the link I discovered that Leonard Borman’s Our Jewish Robot Future: A Novel About the Garden of Eden and the Cyborgian Transformation of the Human Race has been selected as a finalist in the Fiction – Science Fiction Category.

View the complete list of Science Fiction competitors here. Winners will be announced at the American Library Association (ALA) Conference, June 23-28, 2011.

Our Jewish Robot Future presents a cheeky story that visits the Garden of Eden and questions the absence of an 11th commandment: Thou shall NOT nosh thy brother. Margarita Haralson, a post-menopausal housewife determined to become pregnant in spite of her children’s refusal to give her grandchildren, narrates the story to her newborn child. This is a must read for anyone curious for an alternative, comedic take on human existence and Jewish family relations.

“A strange adventure with even stranger concepts … a highly entertaining and very highly recommended read.” — The Midwest Book Review, November 2010

“A strange adventure”

Posted 12 Nov 2010 — by admin
Category Our Jewish Robot Future, Reviews

Another great hit for Leonard Borman’s Our Jewish Robot Future. Midwest Book Review calls this futuristic novel “highly entertaining and a very highly recommended read.”

Read the review in Midwest Book Review’s Small Press Watch for November. This review will appear in the Cengage Learning, Gale interactive CD ROM series “Book Review Index” published 4 times yearly for academic, corporate and public library systems as well as book review databases (LexixNexis and Goliath). This review will also be posted on amazon by Midwest Book Review.

The Greatest Experience

Posted 31 Oct 2010 — by admin
Category home

My greatest experience began the 8th day after the birth of a grandson. It was an extraordinary day to start, given the ceremonial celebration about to happen. But, an even greater extraordinary day awaited without my knowledge. No future date on a calendar would attach to commemorate what was about to happen: the leap from a finance professional to spiritual savior. It counted in seconds. My services as a faith healer, if needed, would be available to those requiring a surrogate to speak directly with God, until nightfall.

Early that day, sitting in Elijah’s chair, I held my grandson in my arms, as he was circumcised. What followed, simply put, was astonishing and amazing. After the Rabbi preformed the ritual, he told me the importance of my role, as the sayndich. I held the child during the ceremony, with God witnessing everything from above: my commitment to faith, my character, my bonding with the child, and my steady hands. The Rabbi said I was granted permission to speak directly with God. Presumably, the Rabbi heard God tell him I possessed character and handed me the responsibility.

It’s amazing when you consider my religious training, by comparison, being virtually non-existent, with other religious persons. Piano players become good because they practice. If you don’t practice, nobody knows your name. Not so in my circumstance. I overcame my weak credentials and rose to the highest level of spiritual intervention between humans and God. The honor reserved only for the very pious and devout was achieved with no effort. Religious people study Talmud and live whole lives by its principles. It takes many years of study and devotion to reach such a high level of spiritual essence. Some work with devotion and never reach the pinnacle. But, if one is lucky enough to learn and gain an extraordinary amount of knowledge and understanding, its persona magnetizes people to seek out such persons. Who else but the creme de la creme should speak with God?

The importance and responsibilities of being a faith healer were no laughing matter. Imagine, someone asking you for divine intervention for a sick family member. I reached deep into my soul to find the right words. Besides help for illness, infertile persons or unmarried children seeking spouses came forward for supplication. Good people with hurt expressions needed consolation with gaping holes in their lives. Tears sealed any doubt of my role, and purpose and tears from those requesting a blessing relinquished any doubt of sincerity.

I was staggered by the number of people waiting to ask for help. A quick glance counted about twenty. Every person in line, when their turn came, counted on me to speak with God in an authentic and purposeful way. How’s that: an extraordinary day turned even more extraordinary. As evening approached, knowing my powers would soon end, I reflected on my special day. I hoped God intervened because I asked. The reward I wanted was to remember the inner satisfaction I experienced by helping. As to the exact date, I don’t recall.

A bit of photo fun

Posted 05 Oct 2010 — by admin
Category events

Here are a few takes from the Magers & Quinn reading event on Wednesday, September 29, in Minneapolis.

Everyone’s talking…

Posted 04 Oct 2010 — by admin
Category Our Jewish Robot Future, Reviews

Everyone is talking about Our Jewish Robot Future that is. I recently had a nice mention in the bookshelf section of Tablet Magazine. Here’s a small taste of what they had to say:

“If Jewish/vampire trysts and Orthodox dragonslayers sound too old-fashioned for you, you might prefer Leonard Borman’s Our Jewish Robot Future (Scarletta, October), which comes freighted with the illustrative subtitle “A Comedic Novel about the Garden of Eden and the Cyborgian Transformation of the Human Race.” If nothing else, the novel demonstrates how irresistible it is for some authors to insert Jewishness into their wild fantasies…”  Read the rest here.

KFAI! A Radio Appearance!

Posted 01 Oct 2010 — by admin
Category Our Jewish Robot Future, events

Recently I was on KFAI’s Write On! Radio. A show that takes place in Minneapolis and hosted by Ian Graham Leask (my publisher), Steve McEllistrem, and Lynnette Reini-Grandell.

Have a few laughs: Check out the audio here:

Click here to play streaming audio

Parental Lessons

Posted 08 Sep 2010 — by admin
Category Uncategorized

Can you accept and love your children who live a life style which you despise to your inner core? May I suggest a family member with a spiked green Mohawk, ink head-to-foot, a face full of protruding facial studs that belong on a snazzy tuxedo shirt, and clothes worthy of a Halloween costume? Can you accept and love your children who live in hatred of your moral codes, your religious or political beliefs? Dare I say a child saying, “God who, peace, freedom, the president is an asshole;” a daughter high on dope sitting spread eagle ready to happily administer a gang bang. If you answered yes or no, you’re in serious trouble.

Let me be philosophical. From a father’s prospective, if your daughter rides in a motorcycle gang as someone’s bitch, are you happy about birthing a decadent child? Abstract philosophy will help us understand the question of unconditional love, but may not be helpful to relieve the pain. A little recall may help answer the question: Did my wife ride in a motorcycle gang as somebody’s bitch?  Statistics say, it’s a 70% chance the answer is yes.

As child to a parent, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Hey, I understand and expect all parents not to be upset by a child’s abnormal life style. We supplied the genes. We supplied the culture. We supplied beliefs. We supplied the community surroundings. We supplied the family unit. We supplied 3rd party persons as leaders to teach in our stead. We cannot do all the work of upbringing. School teachers, TV, spiritual leaders, celebrities, music, books: Did we allow the surrogates to mold our child in concert with our efforts? If you answer no, your answer speaks as a stranger to your child. If you answered yes, you’re in a band of gypsies, persons who lead unconventional lives. Do you know of a happier group of people on Earth?

I’ve also faced the most difficult task in my life: to love my children unconditionally. Part of that love contains unpleasant moments and parts. There are no set of rules that apply to each child. Some children grow to be smarter than you, some are disabled, some never reach a satisfaction which life offers. Psychologists on TV opine about micro issues which may help. The macro issues are the world. How do we teach children how to live on this planet? Thousands of issues make up the world. You start by teaching what you know, but no one knows everything. Working together with a child looking for answers teaches, not only the child, but you as well. Discovering a facet of life together: Is there anything more worthwhile?

May I suggest reading “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn,” by Betty Smith. In Chapter 9, the author narrates a story about Katie, a young woman and mother of a day old child, admitting she knows nothing about being a parent. Her mother, Mary Rommely, describes how she was raised in a peasant family, unable to read or write. She wanted to have it better, so she read books she learned were important. Her advice continues and is most inspiring. Her narration is most unconventional and relevant. As a successful father, I encourage you to read what was written almost 70 years ago.

“The Thieves of Manhattan” – Painting the Publishing World

Posted 01 Sep 2010 — by admin
Category Reviews

Adam Langer’s The Thieves of Manhattan (© 2010, ISBN: 978-1400068913) proved an exciting read. Glancing at the cover and title which hosts crooked letters cut from newspaper and eyes on a black background, I anticipated reading about low-life thieves, fences to dispose of stolen merchandise, drug dealers, or cheap hookers. Instead, Langer paints pictures of people dressed in suits or fashionable casual clothes, wearing chic eyeglasses and expensive watches. Low-life crooks had the day off. The thieves in the title are professional people—think the mirroring of elected government officials and investment bankers. But in this case, the author used people connected with the publishing business, which he is probably most familiar.

Ian Minot, the narrator, first appears as his homophone surname implies, a minnow. He works as a barista in a coffeehouse, and writes short stories during down time. We quickly gather he wants to be a big fish novelist; his sights for success never wane. He sees his girlfriend, Anya Petrescu, a Romanian chachka, being invited to read parts of her memoir at a who’s who in the literary field gathering. Langer brings her to life, having her speak in a broken English accent. “Ee-yen, ve should heff met earlier…vhen ve both vere different pipples.” Ian, wearing a t-shirt and jeans, sits and listens, as she captivates the audience. He laments he writes as good as anyone and cannot understand why he is a failure. With her rise to stardom, the scene soon leads to the breakup of life together between Ian and Anya.

After Ian, Anya is swept away by a book agent and very NYC man, Geoff Olden. Street slang such as “Metro Sex” or cheap Spanish expressions such as “Por Favor” dot the pages. Anya signs on with Olden to get her memoir published. Anya’s literary success strongly correlates with sexual liaisons; she is in over her head. It is here the author’s narrative shines. He describes the publishing business workings inside parties and dinner scenes: the smoozing, the backstabbing, the threats, the duplicity. Langer depicts an identifiable hate-love relationship with industry. Read More

When Looking in the Mirror Becomes the Only View

Posted 23 Aug 2010 — by admin
Category Uncategorized

As we get older, our youthful looks, our strengths, sag in a slow spiral. The truism of life states sagging chins and stomachs are set in stone, etched alongside the law of gravity. No puns intended. The law of gravity cannot be challenged; it is a bedrock of physics. Our aging law happens with variety—not all chins sag the same way. What is sure is that growing old won’t be pretty looking in a mirror.

Knowing tomorrow will not surprise us, we only wonder what remnants of today will remain. Hair will gray or recede, faces will wrinkle, chins will drop, gum lines will recede, breasts will droop. They may find a happy home resting on a sagging overfed stomach. Our remedy is to stay in shape with exercise or commit to plastic surgery. To do nothing, to vegetate, invites scorn from family or friends. I suggest a no-calorie effort: botox injections.

Prescribed pills or medications find a home inside our chemistry. Most notable in the march of physical decline is our sexual functions. Our vigorous days overfilled with hormonal adventure eventually reaches empty. There are no refueling stations. If we want, what better way to inducing sadness or depression is there than looking in the mirror. Tears flow until we need to replenish with artificial tear drops.

Enough of our personal physical evolutionary. Will the same be said of our abilities and our minds? Will they sag and forsake us? Read More

Maintaining That Girlish Figure

Posted 18 Aug 2010 — by admin
Category Uncategorized

People often ask how I’ve maintained my girlish figure for so long. If you saw me, no bulging stomach droops over the belt. No fat arms hang from the biceps. Genes count, and I attribute a lot of success to my parents. They passed me genes which never allow a 10 pound overweight condition. (By the way, my parents never looked overweight.) That’s about as scientific as it gets.

Now that I’ve reached a senior citizen age, nothing has really changed. I look trim. I drink alcoholic beverages and eat rich food. I sometimes overindulge, eating fatty and other high caloric foods. Sometimes I notice the waist on my trousers get a bit tight, and have to notch out the belt. My arms develop a muscular fat of a wannabe body builder. My facial cheeks puff, as does my backside cheeks. No, I’m not using steroids.

A bell rings, alerting me that I have reached the extra 10 pound overweight limit. I march in front of a mirror and confess I look like Porky Pig, complete with ears atop my head. Eventually a gatekeeper appears, holding up a sign, saying I’m not allowed to enter into the overweight domain. He cautions me to slow down on eating. I listen, preferring my clothes to wear from use, not ripped stitches. An automatic switch flips, waking my metabolic genie who says, ‘I’m back. I’ll take it from here.’

Truthfully, the pounds didn’t dissolve by themselves. It started with my wife pointing out, ‘You’re overweight. The seams on your pants are ready to split.’ Her underlining warning means I’d have to buy a new wardrobe. Her silent warnings were, ‘How much mortgage money do you plan to spend on new clothes?’ or ‘I can’t stand your fat ass. I’m looking for a younger man.’ Simultaneously, my inner voice speaks about practical measures. ‘Have you priced clothes lately?’ Or my armchair medical voice warns. ‘You’re vulnerable to Onset Diabetes.’ With my full attention gained, weight control becomes my main priority.

I dusted off my weight reduction remedy. Read More