This work takes you on a trip to other worlds and realities and the city of Angels while sharing bits of social commentary. Chuy de Cabra's personal quest for identity entangles him in a clash with supernatural demons of his ancestors and the everyday demons on the streets of East Los Angeles. Is he an alien? Is he a monster? Will his search for identity save him from his nightmares or will it destroy his future?
Welcome! Use buttons above to view other pages
Incredible Narrative About Living Chicano !
Listen to Narration
Radio DJ Suspected of Being Chupacabra!!
Review by Michael Sedano...
The Journey Home El Chupacabra
“Demons, Ancient Aliens, Portals, Racial Profiling, Chicanos, Aztecs and Immigration, collide in this supernatural tale of modern fiction."
Alexander Uballez was born in the San Francisco Bay Area. He has lived in Los Angeles and New York City, and currently resides in Albuquerque, where he prosecutes crimes against children for the people of the State of New Mexico.
Max Uballez was born in a tenement on 4th and Hewitt, a few blocks from downtown Los Angeles, and raised in the William Mead Housing Projects. A self-taught musician and composer, he recorded his first album when he was nineteen years old with The Romancers. Max Uballez produced and co-produced several iconic recordings of the ‘60’s, including Land of 1000 Dances by Cannibal and the Headhunters, and has worked with Eddie Davis, Bob Keane, Frank Zappa, Sergio Mendes, Ahmet Ertegun and Fred Catero. Max’s first album, Do the Slauson, is considered the blueprint for the Chicano East Side Sound, and Max has been called the Brian Wilson of ‘60’s Southern California Chicano music. He is featured in the PBS documentary, Chicano Rock. Max is a practicing Buddhist and CEO of Xela-Co Media, LLC.
Wherever the hybrid vampire-werewolf story of el chupacabra came from, it’s well-known enough nowadays to be the basis of speculative fiction in a fun read from an independent publisher.
I wouldn’t be surprised to learn somewhere in the guts of a big library a researcher toils amid the microfiche and dusty ephemera, looking for that first mention in a folklorist newsletter, an allusion buried in ancient usenet archives. For all I know, either Max Uballez or Alexander Uballez started it way back when. Their novel, Chuy de Cabra, takes the devil by the horns and scores a winner. It’s fun.
The authors have given their chupacabra a taste for human flesh. Along with a diabolic power to rob a body of vitality--brush up against, a tap on the shoulder, hours later the victim has aged thirty years and a lethally enervated--chupacabra inhabits the body of someone you know. The cops think it's Chuy, and he's not sure he's not.
Chuy de Cabra spins speculative fantasy out of shape-shifting, time and place dislocation, multidimensionality, police brutality, bilingualism. Here and there the writing sparkles with psychedelic force and draws a smile. “Otra!” the reader says, “give me another little piece like that.”
It may be mere coincidence how this literary romp mirrors canonical chicano literary motives such as the quest for identity, uses of language and speech, a community-based philosophy, indigenism.
That’s if you want to look at it like that. Maybe that rhetoric lies there on the page because that’s how we are. It’s Chicano literature. Sabes que? Forget that stuff.
Sadly, Chuy de Cabra will not sit well with curmudgeons, strict linguistic prescriptivists, and irritable critics. Would it help if people knew a Tommy Burger plays a key role in making casí everything all right?
Incredible narrative about the state of living Chicano or a tinge darker than the majority! Very cool, Max & Alexander, much success! (Chapter 6 "Land of the Free")
Jesse Calvillo “Hi Max, I read your book more than once and it starting to reflect on a modern-day Don Juan (Carlos Casteneda) who became a Buddist in disguise to continue his mischevious ways. Jesse”