The title story is my favorite and the funniest. In a spoof of James Frey\'s book, "A Million Little Pieces" (of which the cover is a parody), the author composes a lengthy note to his publisher to explain changes in his unpublished memoir, titled "Victory: How I Won World War II and Super Bowl III." The first thing that needs to be changed, he says, is that he "did not formally serve in World War II," as he wasn't even born until 1962, but he's read about it. Most enjoyable. The Record Courier - Feb. 9, 2007
 

We are plunged into Kun\'s upside-down world from the start with the title story, which has a writer confessing, "upon much review and deep, deep contemplation," to inaccuracies in his memoir, "Victory: How I Won World War II and Super Bowl III."

In lawyerly numbered entries, we learn the writer never actually served in World War II and did not play in Super Bowl III; his parents were not named "Sonny" and "Cher"; his sisters "Sally" and "Coco" were not involved in drug-smuggling in Thailand, and they don\'t even exist; his father did not stab him with a knife ("But you could tell he was thinking about it. You could see it in his eyes."); and he was never married to actress Charlize Theron.

The whole story is an exercise in pushing a fired bullet back into a gun barrel, and it\'s great fun, especially given the real-life flap nvolving author James Frey.

In the heavily footnoted "You Have Made Quite A Purchase," the lawsuit-weary manufacturer of the Business Pro Whisper Shred 1600 tries to absolve itself of any further liability for improper use of its paper shredder: "Do not place orange rinds in the Whisper Shred 1600. And don\'t pretend they just fell into the machine, like Walter Archer of Oakland, California." In footnotes: "We hope you have not spent all of your settlement proceeds on pornography, Mr. Archer."

Reading Kun is like reading the minds of compulsive liars and deluded schlubs, who try by sheer force of will to alter reality to their liking, only to have their false worlds brought crashing down on them.

Kun himself is double agent in this foolishness, peppering the book with supposed "publisher\'s notes" that include absurdly laudatory remarks about him, such as the line claiming the title story was an "official Roma Linguistica Societale Selecione" or the one about Kun being paid a $500,000 advance for this slim collection. The growing ridiculousness of these plaudits forces the "publisher" to acknowledge needing to make some corrections of his own.

But Kun, the absurdist, needs very little tinkering. The Seattle Times - Mar. 30, 2007
 

In "Touched, Very Touched", he explores the doldrums of office life and the absurdity of business communication with a narrator who spends the story giving gracious thanks for winning the "Best Interoffice Email (Nonviolent) (Nonsexual)" award. Anyone who's worked in a corporate environment will likely appreciate the spoof, though several other pieces included here are structurally more daring. "You Have Made Quite a Purchase" is a comical instruction manual for a piece of office equipment and "Fresh Fruit" presents a one-sided conversation between a motivational speaker and his audience. While often comical, several stories are startlingly dark. The party guests in "One Last Story About Girls and Chocolate" tear at each other with a level of verbal sophistication and subtlety that would make Ed Albee proud.

There are moments, however, when the author seems to be laughing a bit too hard at his own jokes. Two stories in the collection are told partially in footnotes. Funny the first time around, the format seems stale when it appears later in the book. Likewise, there are faux publisher's notes penned by the author that open each story; they start off as clever send-ups of the comments publisher's often include with galleys, but become more tedious than amusing as the book progresses. Still, if Kun's intent is to bring readers to the sad realization that they are as completely delusional as his characters, his goal is ultimately achieved. The L Magazine - Feb., 2007
 

The good news is that, if you hanker after comic riffs dusted with a soupcon of truth, Kun's book is well worth waiting for.

Read it after a meal: the laughs will help your digestion.

Capitalizing on James Frey's mishap, Kun investigates themes he's already explored in "You Poor Monster" and The Locklear Letters - why we lie.

But, then, you know why we lie: Because we're angry, because we desire, because we're hiding, because we're hedging our bets, because we think we're the cat's meow, etc.

Kun's collection ends with 10 separate publisher's notes, all trying, trying, trying and, ultimately, failing to tell the truth.

When Kun's not writing fiction, he's a trial lawyer in L.A.

How perfect is that?
Santa Cruz Sentinel - Dec. 31, 2006
 

Like the old Nash and Zullo Hall of Shame books, this fun-loving paperback flaunts convention at every turn. Subjects range from Masanaro Murakami (remember him?) to Bruce Hurst winning - and then losing - the 1986 World Series MVP award. Sports Collector's Digest - Jan. 5, 2007
 

But baseball's tall tales do have some humor in them and authors Michael Kun and Howard Bloom try to lightheartedly dispel history's errors in The Baseball Uncyclopedia: A Highly Opinionated, Myth-Busting Guide To The Great American Game [Emmis Books, 256 pages, $14.95].

The authors go alphabetically and cover a variety of topics, from historical [the origins of "Take Me Out To The Ballgame" for example] to more contemporary [such as, how to spell Royal first baseman Doug Mientkiewicz's name]. Each topic is presented in a small vignette written by either Kun or Bloom and usually has a humorous twist to it. There authors even engage in arguments on some topics where they have disagreements, which adds to the amusement.

But it's not all just laughs. There some smart entries where the authors objectively look at certain historical discussions. For example: they argue Joe DiMaggio was never the "greatest living ballplayer" and they make a case for Al Oliver for the Hall of Fame. Kun's and Bloom's arguments are effective and at least make the reader think.

And that's what any author wants. Some of the information contained in the Uncyclopedia may not break new ground, but the most of the entries do give a baseball fan enjoyable casual reading during the hot summer.

It's highly recommended.
Joe McDonald | Pro Baseball Central| June 3 2006

Click here to read the full profile at Hopkins Magazine.

You Poor Monster, Kun's best work to date, begins when Sam Shoogey appears on lawyer Hamilton "Ham" Ashe's doorstep in the middle of the night. Ashe doesn't know what to make of the little man, but Shoogey politely greets Ashe and asks for his new neighbor's assistance in his upcoming divorce. Shoogey is an immediate enigma. He supposes to be a novelist, a college football star, a professional boxer, and a war hero. But the more outrageous his stories of accomplishment become, the less inclined Ham -- and the reader -- is to believe them. Who exactly is Shoogey? And why should we trust him?
Pop Matters - October 25, 2005

Click here to read the full interview at Pop Matters.com.

Even the book's title, subtitle ("This Should Answer Your Questions, My Son") and byline come with endnotes. A letter from Kun's editor, "Diane!," starts the book with a warning that the author radically revised the story shortly before publication, so she felt it was appropriate to leave in all of his explanatory and sometimes desperate remarks, which were intended mostly for her.

Kun is quite the jokester, and he's an adventuresome writer.

Reading "You Poor Monster" is physically demanding - what with the flipping back and forth to see endnotes - but the delightful absurdity of the experience, along with Kun's belly-ache-inducing wit, makes it a rewarding pursuit.
The Seattle Times - August 26, 2005

Click here to read the full review at seattlenews.com.

But the truth of Shoogey's life has become increasingly difficult for Hamilton to ascertain, forcing him to question his client's integrity. If Shoogey is a writer, why can't Hamilton find any of his books? He has no official war record, and the university he claims to have attended denies any of his legendary achievements on the field. Has Shoogey woven a web of indefensible falsehoods?

As Hamilton 's becomes further involved in the exciting and unpredictable daily adventures of Shoogey, he fights the notion that his own life -- wife, house, kids -- might fade over time into increasingly dull shades of gray. But this fear is extinguished forever when the final, poignant truth about Sam Shoogey becomes known, a moment too late. (Fall 2005 Selection) Barnes and Noble - Fall, 2005

Click here to see the commentary at barnesandnoble.com.

Set lovingly in Baltimore, Michael Kun's "You Poor Monster" is chock full of interesting characters, wry and witty prose, and an intriguing premise: If you know that a wickedly good storyteller is spinning a fantastic yarn, is it still a lie? A Hopkins grad, Kun uses endnotes to craft a subplot that both enriches the narrative and underscores his premise. Baltimore Magazine - August, 2005

Click here to read the full review at baltimoresun.com.

Michael Kun isn't shy about playing favorites. As he describes it: 'Authors will often tell you that, just as they do not have favorites among their children, they do not have favorites among their books. This is complete nonsense. Get a few drinks in them, and every writer I know will finally admit which book is his favorite. You don't need to ply me with alcohol. I'll tell you flat-out, without hesitation, that "You Poor Monster" is my favorite.'

Longtime City Paper readers have already read Kun's new book You Poor Monster, published by Macadam/Cage this month. More accurately, they've read Our Poor Napoleon, a pre-hominid version of Monster that CP printed in 36 serialized installments in 1993. Kun, whose jovial voice matches his jolly "about the author" photo perfectly, sees little relation between the book that became the apple of his literary eye and its hulking 600-page-plus ancestor....  
Baltimore City Paper - June 8, 2005

Click here to read the full review at citypaper.com.

Click here to read the review at ew.com.

The intriguing epigram that opens Michael Kun's latest literary entertainment, "You Poor Monster", occurred to the Los Angeles labor attorney 15 years ago when he was unexpectedly enlisted for the defense team of a charming if unreliable defendant in a scorched-earth divorce proceeding.

"I was working for one of the mega-firms in Baltimore and they were going to represent this individual whose wife had just filed for divorce and she was the president of the company so she had the board of directors fire him and closed all his bank accounts," he recalls by phone from Los Angeles. "Here was this guy who, the day before, was the vice president of this major company and had the wife and kids and more money than you or I could ever dream of and he showed up on our doorstep flat broke to where he could barely pay for his parking." -- News-Press - June 2, 2005

Read the full review by clicking here.
 

In his new effort, Kun switches gears, proving his worth as a classic storyteller as he weaves a tale about up-and-down friendship, the nature of truth ("Is a lie a lie if you know it's untrue, or is it just a story?"), and guilt. What's so compelling is that, although the reader has to question the validity of just about everything that comes out of the characters' mouths, he is increasingly confident that Kun is honestly and objectively describing the nuances of human nature and relationships - between neighbors, between husband and wife, between father and daughter. You Poor Monster is ultimately a sad, sweet novel that lowers an extra boom near the conclusion. Note: Don't skip the endnotes or you'll miss a whole other level. Indy Men's Magazine - June, 2005
 

In "The Locklear Letters" (2003), Kun showed that he could take a truly pathetic specimen of a person -- in that case, a compulsive writer of astonishingly clueless fan letters to the titular actress -- and find the honest spark within him without resorting to fakery or sentimental machinations. In this more ambitious fiction, the central piece of sad-sackery is a more complex creation, and the author makes him a near-epic character. Sam Shoogey likes to regale next-door neighbor and narrator Hamilton (Ham) Ashe with stories that are as wonderfully dramatic as they are probably untrue. The book opens with a real corker that we soon learn Sam tells at every conceivable opportunity: about the time he killed a man in "the war" (unspecified) and then years later got a visit from the fellow soldier whose life he had saved, who promptly borrowed money from him. This gem of hardnosed poetry and heartache understandably enthralls ham, a lawyer who barely supports his wife and child by working ridiculous hours. It turns out that Sam is not only a fantastic raconteur but also a mystery writer and lover of women who needs Ham's help with a little divorce problem he is having. Thus begins their odd friendship, which sprawls through this lengthy but breezy text and starts to unravel in strange circumstances before it has a chance to truly blossom. Kun manages to make Ham's life, with its routines and lassitude, seem just as engaging as Sam's speedy, high-octane antics; he conveys just as much feeling for moments of quiet familial grace as he does for comic extravaganzas. When Sam's house of cards begins to collapse, "You Poor Monster" becomes sadder and grows more resonant as a result.

A refreshingly humane comedy about the lies people tell themselves -- and others -- just to survive.
Kirkus Reviews April 15, 2005.

The intriguing epigram that opens Michael Kun's latest literary entertainment, 'You Poor Monster', occurred to the Los Angeles labor attorney 15 years ago when he was unexpectedly enlisted for the defense team of a charming if unreliable defendant in a scorched-earth divorce proceeding.

'I was working for one of the mega-firms in Baltimore and they were going to represent this individual whose wife had just filed for divorce and she was the president of the company so she had the board of directors fire him and closed all his bank accounts,' he recalls by phone from Los Angeles. 'Here was this guy who, the day before, was the vice president of this major company and had the wife and kids and more money than you or I could ever dream of and he showed up on our doorstep flat broke to where he could barely pay for his parking.'

Despite his setbacks, the unnamed defendant was an irrepressible bon vivant who latched onto the then-27-year-old attorney with both hands. Soon he was showing up unexpectedly to haul Kun off to lunch or dinner, even setting him up with dates, all the while regaling his reluctant cohort with tales from a most vivid life.

'I've got to admit, I always enjoyed it, even though I knew that a lot of what he was telling me was complete bull,' Kun says. 'With him, I decided these are just stories; I wasn't going to say I know you didn't do this or I know you didn't do that. It wasn't worth it; the stories were too funny. He was too good of a storyteller.'

In 'You Poor Monster,' Kun introduces us to Sam Shoogey, a former war hero, college football star, professional boxer and mystery novelist. Or is he? The more straight-laced Baltimore attorney Hamilton 'Ham' Ashe learns about his colorful client and new best pal, the more he reluctantly agrees to suspend his disbelief. 'You Poor Monster' is a paean to those lovable bullswingers we've all encountered from time to time who make our life, however briefly, more exciting. But Sam Shoogey is only half the fun. In Kun's fourth outing, he makes clever use of endnotes to deconstruct Ham's first-person narrative and comment on the novel in progress. If the storyline brings Shoogey's veracity into question, the endnotes provide insight into Ham's mental gymnastics as he tries to figure the guy out. Whether you choose to stick to the narrative or open the curtain by reading the endnotes, an entertaining time is guaranteed for all.

'My answer has always been I don't care if they read them. If somebody just wants to read the text of the novel, fine, that's great by me. But if somebody wants to read the endnotes as they go or read them when they're done, they're going to get an added bonus.'

Among highly regarded young novelists, Kun's career arc has varied more than most; in fact, it looks more like the stock market of recent years than the steadily ascending climb of a literary comer. After his heralded debut with 'A Thousand Benjamins' in 1990, Kun seemingly disappeared for 13 years. While he was busy practicing law and crafting a 650-page early version of 'You Poor Monster,' eager fans fueled Internet rumors of his demise. Kun's Web site even collects the various versions of his untimely death.

Frustrated with the endless rewriting of his lone-awaited follow-up, Kun challenged himself to dash off a novel during a one-week vacation. The result, 'The Locklear Letters,' featuring an obsessive fan's hilarious letters to Heather Locklear, heralded his return. His third novel, 'My Wife and My Dead Wife,' was confusingly dubbed his sophomore failure.

'Yeah, I can't get this down right!' Kun says, laughing. 'I wish I could do it like everybody else does!'

Everyone, that is, except John Grisham and the pinstriped legion of lawyers-turned-legal-thriller-writers that followed.

'People always ask me why I don't write legal thrillers and part of it is, I just don't find them that interesting. The main characters in those novels are always these almost superheroes, these perfect people, and I don't find perfect people interesting. I like the flawed people better,' Kun admits.

Despite the wait or perhaps because of it 'You Poor Monster' not only successfully dodged the sophomore jinx, but became more robust with age.

'There were many, many years that I was disappointed that the book wasn't out already, but now I look at it and say that, with the benefit of time, it's a smaller, tighter book now,' Kun says. 'It also gave me the time to sit back and do something a little bit different; the whole thing with the endnotes is something that would not have been included in the original book 15 years ago. I do think it makes it a different book and makes it an unusual book. At least I hope it does.'

Kidding aside, Kun insists that his use of comedy should not disqualify him as a serious literary novelist.

'I don't draw a distinction between what I do and high literature. People have kind of latched onto the humor in this book, but I think of it as being a fairly serious book. I don't want to take the humor out of my writing just to prove to people that I'm a serious writer.'

An endearing, bittersweet romance that reads like a comedy.The Fort Myers News Press

Hamilton "Ham" Ashe works as a tailor in a small Atlanta shop. Ham became a tailor because the ad in the paper said "sailor" and he thought it might be a great adventure. Being a tailor is an okay job, but Ham's boss, Palmeyer, drives him crazy. Palmeyer barely speaks to Ham, and when he does, he insists on calling him "Salami", which was funny at first, but isn't any more. The tailor shop needs another employee, but Palmeyer won't consider anybody who doesn't know Big Band music, and the work is piling up. When Palmeyer finally hires Debbie, Ham thinks this might be good, until it turns out that Debbie is a shrew and Palmeyer is decidedly smitten with her.

Ham lives with his girlfriend, Renee, who used to work at the hospital gift store until she lost her job. Now Renee wants to be a country & western singer, so she drains their bank account to buy guitar lessons, tape recorders, and microphones. Problem is, she's a horrible song-writer. She wrote a song about a dog with one ear, and she thinks that this will make her famous. Ham loves Renee, but she drives him crazy. She always mispronounces his name with her southern accent. She talks in letters and numbers (When he asks what's for dinner, she says "A) hot dogs, B) coleslaw, C) potatoes, and D) lemonade."). What's worse is that Renee is running all over town, telling everybody that she's Ham's wife. And Renee is definitely NOT Ham's wife.

The first few pages of "My Wife and My Dead Wife" are going to have you laughing. Author Michael Kun has created a Sad-Sack of a character in Hamilton Ashe; life never goes the way Ham thinks it should, and nobody ever listens to a thing he says. At about the middle of this book, the story turns rather sad and pathetic. While there are still some laugh-out-loud funny parts, you start to feel really bad for the character and what happens to him. The ending of this book has a couple of surprising twists that I never saw coming; one was a bit disappointing. The other was so totally unexpected that I had to read it twice.

If you're looking for A) a quirky story, B) a few laughs followed by a couple of bombshells, or C) a great vacation read, grab a copy of this book. Vail Trail June 17, 2004. Click here to read the original review.

The bulk of the story is a nonstop rant by Ham against Renee and the horrors she inflicts upon him, mostly of the monetary variety. Deciding that she doesn't want to go back to work, Renee announces her desire to become a country-and-western singer, necessitating the purchase of a guitar, guitar lessons, and some really awful outfits to accompany her horrible songs. Ham takes it all in silent resentment, occasionally flashing back to memories of his ex-wife Shellie, who hailed from the same small town as he. Other memories, of a kid from Ham's high school who was brutally murdered, also come floating back to prove a crucial development in the story (it's not what readers might think-this doesn't turn into a crime novel-but it's shocking nonetheless).

For a time, Ham's rantings are amusing as Renee goes from one ridiculous type of selfish behavior to another, but as we see more of Ham's dead-end life, the more sympathetic she becomes. Things at first seem suffused with the sour taste of misogyny, like a standup comic going on endlessly about his crazy girlfriend, but ultimately Kun proves an abler writer than that.

An endearing, bittersweet romance that reads like a comedy.Kirkus Reviews

Read the highlights:
Kun overcomes the limitations of his epistolary format with some inventive maneuvering that fills in the gaps in the story line and keeps the letters from becoming monotonous. Kun's lighthearted humor pokes clever fun at our ongoing obsession with fame and celebrity. Publisher's Weekly

After a 10-year silence, author Michael Kun returns with The Locklear Letters, a hilarious epistolary novel of obsession .... What might sound like a one-joke book is kept alive with wicked twists and turns. Not to be missed. Amazon.com

A quick and enjoyable tour of the lighter, funnier side of dementia. Kirkus Reviews

A laugh-out-loud novel... Kun's book is an amusing look at how our society looks at and reacts to celebrities... Crosswinds (New Mexico)

An imaginatively written, cleverly constructed book...A job well done. Baltimore Magazine

Its air of droll desperation and sweetly uplifting finale are perfect for those sweltering days when tackling anything more substantial would bring up a sweat. The Village Voice

Funny, witty, pathetic - a great anytime read for those between soul-wrenching books ... when you want a little something but end up getting a lot more. Book Sense, Independent Bookseller Recommendations

A light, quick, and damned funny read. bookgeek.com

The sensitivity and depth with which the 27-year-old Baltimore lawyer portrays his main character would do justice to a seasoned author... the very satisfying ending will render them confirmed followers, anxiously awaiting Kun's next effort. Cleveland Plains Dealer

"A Thousand Benjamins" is the work of a careful, attentive young apprentice applying himself to his craft; it is a solid achievement. Chicago Tribune

If the mark of a good novel is its ability to draw us fully into the characters' lives, then A Thousand Benjamins is an exuberant success. Fort Lauderdale Sun-Sentinel

This is an exceptional first novel that a Hollywood mogul would be wise to read. The Pittsburgh Press