Lenz’s mesmerizing, multifaceted debut novel is both an intriguing time-travel/past-life adventure and a subtle homage to Marilyn Monroe.

Initially set in Southern California in 1996, the storyline follows Jack Cade, a 40-year-old struggling actor who’s inexplicably given a valuable alexandrite ring by an unknown benefactor. But the strange gift doesn’t change Cade’s run of bad luck: He loses a job he desperately needed, and his wife finally leaves him. When a woman named Maggie Partridge, who claims to be a psychophysicist, contacts the down-and-out actor with “extremely important” information, he decides to meet with her and hear her out. Her story is incredible: She believes that Cade used to be a man named Richard Blake, a gemologist who lived in the San Fernando Valley in the 1950s—and she has a way to send him back in time to prove it. Cade agrees and indeed finds himself back in 1956 as the gemologist. Blake’s existence is as bleak as Cade’s. He lives with his wife and her mentally challenged sister, with whom he’s having an affair. Blake, an aspiring actor, has the opportunity to meet Marilyn Monroe, who has just started filming Bus Stop. Meeting Monroe helps Cade/Blake begin to unravel the mystery surrounding the alexandrite ring, and the pieces to an incredibly intricate puzzle start falling into place—until Blake’s wife takes umbrage with his infidelity. Along the way, this fascinating look at the underbelly of Hollywood offers an intriguing glimpse into Monroe’s tragic life and death. “We turned her into an icon,” says Cade, in Richard’s body, “then a vessel of our hopes and dreams, and finally a human sacrifice.” Like Monroe, the novel is impressively complex. Lenz—himself a veteran actor—cunningly blends time travel, LA noir, Hollywood glitz and self-discovery, making for a uniquely appealing read.

A stellar story illuminated by a star’s light and a man’s search for himself.

Lenz presents a Hollywood-set novel based on Western legends, in which not everyone is who they seem.

In the 1960s and ’70s, Emily struggles with an unusual variation of the neurological disorder known as face blindness, in that it “had one atypical symptom: an inability to distinguish ordinary people from those in the public eye, primarily celebrities.” This has been an ongoing difficulty in her life, particularly as she lives and works in Hollywood, where actual celebrity sightings are a very common occurrence, indeed; things are further complicated by the fact that she has pursued a career in the movie industry. While working on a set, she learns about a hidden movie starring John Wayne and James Dean that was never completed. It becomes her obsession to bring this movie to fruition, and as she comes closer to re-creating the film with a pair of tortured lookalikes, the misery of trying to be someone, and something, other than oneself begins to unravel her cast members’ psyches. Meanwhile, the actors begin complex relationships with one another that are destined for a touch of tragedy. Lenz’s story is slow-paced, but the offbeat plot and the way that the characters reveal themselves s through storytelling will keep readers engaged. Overall, it’s an often-chilling study of self and perception, and of the dehumanizing effect of fame. No character truly tastes success, but all are tested, and readers will be eager to see if the movie can survive the on-set instability. The captivating characters and pleasantly mysterious plot result in a compelling read that will surely please those with an interest in the intersection of film and philosophy.

An unusual character study in which creative people sabotage themselves and one other.

In this desert thriller, an Arizona police detective questioning his courage investigates a relative’s death.

Some consider Frank Gaines a hero for his bravery in a hostage situation. But it’s all a front; he feels “afraid half the time” and has been seeing Apache psychotherapist Sunny Kacheenay for a year and a half. He talks in sessions about old and ongoing police cases and dreams as well as about the phone call from the widow of his great-uncle, who’s dead from an apparent self-inflicted gunshot. Sunny deciphers his great-aunt’s essential message—it’s Gaines’ “sacred duty,” as part Apache, to torture and kill whoever is responsible for the suicide. The detective quickly eyes Jason Flint, Sunny’s landlord, who, for some reason, unnerves Gaines. But as he’s still a cop, Gaines struggles with his choices. Meanwhile, Flint’s malice seems to permeate everyone’s lives and minds, and other locals, from a woman who’s already done a stint for manslaughter to one of Sunny’s patients, soon enter the fray. Lenz aptly fuses a procedural with dreamlike sequences filled with meaning, such as Gaines’ seeing Sunny’s 6-year-old son, who died in a car accident. The many characters involved intersect in intriguing ways, sometimes literally passing one another at Sunny’s office. But what really grounds the story are the players’ intricate roots. Gaines, for example, as half Native American and half White, feels like something of an outcast, and even his dog, a rescue, is a rare (and illegal) coydog. The author offers evocative details about the arid but beautiful desert landscape, which features a “scarred tract of rocks and sagebrush, beyond an immense field of cactus, maturing lavishly in the remains of a many-years-ago flash flood, and stretching for miles all the way to the cliffs.” The final act accelerates in intensity, though Lenz tempers much of the violence throughout.

Spirited, interwoven characters enrich this sharply written mystery.

A time-traveling man tries to get back to the future and his beloved wife in this novel.

Time is a bit elastic for Danny Maytree, 75, an actor-turned-novelist living in Los Angeles’ San Fernando Valley. As he tells Samantha, his wife of 38 years, “once in a while my mind and the conventional notion of time drift a little out of synch.” It’s 2021, and Danny’s current work in progress concerns an actor who returns to the past to reverse bad career decisions. After several strange, perhaps mescaline-induced experiences (including a conversation with his mysterious rescue mutt, Tali), Danny finds himself young again, in Beverly Hills in 1974. Life imitates art as Danny tries to get his bearings; he writes a screenplay based on his novel while also making career decisions informed by a lifetime of learning. But success is not his chief motivation. Stuck in the past, he hasn’t met Sam yet and is bereft without her. He believes that somehow getting his movie produced will restore him to his wife and his life. Through the course of his time-travel journey, several odd personal encounters and many mystical revelations open Danny’s eyes about the past, forgiveness, and grace. Lenz, whose memoir North of Hollywood (2012) recounted his life as an actor, grounds his novel in showbiz practicalities, such as getting funding. Cinema’s alteration of reality through techniques like montages and jump-cuts makes an effective metaphor for Danny’s experience, and clever, snappy dialogue beefs up the more abstruse mystical elements. Intriguing complications include the question “Have you ever considered the possibility that you sort of cling to Sam? Isn’t that a no-no in your spiritual view of the world?” A life-affirming ending wraps everything up.

A feel-good, entertaining blend of humor, philosophy, and romance, with a time-slip twist.

Lenz’s debut memoir recounts his four decades on the stage and screen.

Brushes with greatness are a recurring theme throughout Lenz’s reflection on a lifetime playing Hollywood bit parts and regional theater roles. Among the memories: an old friendship with Goldie Hawn, a fight scene with John Wayne and a bout of drinking with Jason Robards and George C. Scott. Lenz concedes that he peaked early, however, gaining minor buzz in the late 1960s as an up-and-coming actor only to follow a trajectory that delivered lots of work but not much acclaim. “My God, people listened when I spoke,” he recalls in one wistful memory of early promise. “Naturally, I assumed this was the way it would always be.” Instead, Lenz was relegated to endless auditions and decades of journeyman roles in TV series like Marcus Welby, MD, The Six Million Dollar Man and Falcon Crest. His story is freighted with disappointment, although the author blames only himself for some of his bad breaks. These include the decision to pass on a stage opportunity with a well-known Hollywood director for a lead role in a Kansas City dinner-theater production of The Owl and the Pussy Cat. Lenz uses the present tense to suitable effect in sustaining immediacy between flashbacks from decades ago and more recent events, and he documents a career longevity that is breathtaking. He writes with self-punishing honesty in places, opening up about substance abuse, failed marriages and troubled children. He describes visiting a Los Angeles speakeasy to revel in his notoriety as a working actor only to have his bubble burst by a drunken community college professor who taunts him for not being better known. “You know what you are? You’re a loser.” It’s a slap in the face, but it lends Lenz the clarity to see that fame isn’t everything. His story is more about self-acceptance than glory, and readers will cheer Lenz as he reaches that realization himself.

A touching, bittersweet remembrance of a workaday career in acting.