“Fenton Ota is at his wit’s end. After not making it big as an actor in Hollywood, he’s forced to return to his hometown of Cincinnati, Ohio with his tail between his legs. Once home, he embarks on a creative journey of lies and (failed) attempts at brilliance, as he struggles to produce a postmodern metafictional play, all for the love of a girl…”

“Fenton Ota thought he would have been more of a success at this point. What happened? He finds himself in Los Angeles an utter failure as an actor, and in the end there is nothing he can do but call Mom and go back to Ohio. The shame!What is it they say about how you can never go home? He reconnects with old pals, struggles to build himself up, and eventually embarks on a new goal: writing and directing his own play. Ostensibly based on his own “experiences.” Based on this author’s experiences. Writing about the fictional character who is him, writing about this author, writing about him, and so on. It gets a bit metafictional and postmodern.

He is, of course, doing this all for a girl. And their relationship is all based on lies. Ain’t love grand?

A psychedelic Fourth Wall-breaking tale of the creative process, the white lies that get out of proportion, and the deeper questions of just what is a story. Sometimes we are all losers, but let’s hope we can still find a way to grow and evolve.”