Written by George D Morgan
Rocket scientist by day, black magic occultist by night. PASADENA BABALON tells the true story of Jack Parsons, co-founder of both Aerojet and the Jet Propulsion Laboratory. .
The performance rights to PASADENA BABALON are available through our secure online Etsy store.
Written for the stage by
Loren Marsters and George D Morgan
TWO STANDING OVATIONS
The World Premiere of Closing Credits at The Box Theatre in Riverside brought appreciative audiences to their feet. Look for more productions around the country in 2016. We'll announce them here as they are scheduled.
Let us know if your school or theatre is interested in mounting a production of this new crowd- pleasing stage play.
Book, Music and Lyrics by George D Morgan
When the teenage daughter of a 1960's radical-turned-establishment attorney discovers a developer is planning to build thousands of homes in their rural community, she takes a cue from her mother's past and organizes a protest movement. Unbeknownst to the girl, her mother works for the developer.
Written by George D Morgan
Before the book, there was a play. Mary Sherman Morgan, a farm girl from North Dakota, overcomes numerous hard knocks and challenges to become America's first female rocket scientist.
Book, Music, and Lyrics by
George D Morgan and Duane Ashby
Cad Thompson, infamous parlor house owner of 19th century Virginia City, travels cross country on the Nevada Belle with six new recruits.
Book by Terry Brenner-Farrell
Music and Lyrics by George D Morgan
The animals of the forest put Goldi on trial for breaking and entering.
PAPERBACK AND e-BOOK
The night before the Challenger disaster, NASA supervisors have a conference call with engineers from Morton-Thiokol to decide whether to launch in less than ideal conditions. The Wiggle Room dramatizes how a group of highly educated and intelligent men came to the wrong conclusion.
“Welcome to the moon, Chief Calloway.”
It was the first time anyone had addressed him with that title, and Cal decided right away he liked it. In the LAPD he had been a tiny fish in a monstrous pond. It would have taken him ten years to make sergeant, another ten for lieutenant—and that was only if he lived that long. L.A. policing was getting more dangerous by the day. Burnout was common, and when his best friend in Rampart Division hung himself over an internal affairs investigation, Cal knew it was time to move on.
Now, as chief of North Armstrong’s fledgling police department, he would be in charge, he would be The Man. And with a starting salary of $185,000—it was nothing less than a dream job. Sure; the stories of relentless larceny, exotic pharmacons, and violent miners were legendary, but compared to Los Angeles, how hard could it be?
As the escort guided him away from the tarmac and toward the domed city’s air lock, Cal had a question.
“I was wondering—how many other people applied for this job?”
The escort tapped in a key code. As the door slid open, the two of them stepped into the air lock. With assistance from the small enclosure’s overhead lighting, Cal was able to get a good look at her expression through the helmet’s faceplate. Her facial muscles were rigid, serious.
"A couple hundred? A thousand?” he asked. “I suppose it must've been pretty competitive."
The door slid closed and locked, then she turned to him and spoke.
“You were the only applicant.”