Interesting...

I've mentioned before how adaptations fascinate me. I just read this blog entry today that offered some insight into the book-to-screen adaptation of Up In The Air. I haven't had the chance to see the movie yet, but the blog entry implies that the screenwriters explored the world the novel set up, rather than transcribe the story beat for beat. That kind of adaptation is more interesting to me, because if I wanted to know the exact plot of the book... I'd just read it. Instead, I'd rather observe how the story can transform through the collaborative process of film making. Judging from the early Oscar buzz I've been hearing for the movie the past few months, it sounds like it paid off in this case.

Does anyone know how much of a part author Walter Kirn, who wrote the novel the film is based on, had in the adaptation?

In Vain

This post is dedicated to someone whose name rhymes with feather.

---

When I was home for Thanksgiving, my cousin, the co-author of "The Pairing List" shot me a look that indicated he had a story to tell. The look did not lie.

Him: So... did Grandma call you about our short story?

Me: What? No.

Him: She hasn't said anything about it to you?

Me: Nope.

Him: Well, she called me about it.

Me: Really? This ought to be interesting. Did she like it?

Him: Didn't say. Mainly she just scolded me for using the Lord's name in vain.

Me: (bursts into laughter) THAT'S THE GREATEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD!

Later, upon telling someone whose opinion I highly regard about it over dinner, she inquired as to exactly how I had broken the third commandment.

"I think we used the words 'Jesus Christ' as a curse, but I'm not sure," I answered. (I later did a word search of the document, and found that we used "Jesus", but not "Jesus Christ" in its entirety.)

She pulled her hands up to her face and gasped as if she had been slapped, exclaiming: "COREY! That's the worst one!"

When I laughed at this, she told me she hoped my Grandma kicked my ass for what I wrote. Upon picturing this particular event occurring, I cracked up even more. Little did I know that even though my Grandma wouldn't beat me up over the ordeal, my ass would be handed to me regardless.

The next day at work, I was still amused by the whole situation and too busy clapping myself on the back for being a jackass to notice that powerful forces were preparing to teach me a lesson. Not two hours later, a terrible allergy attack descended upon me with terrible fury. My eyes burned and watered, my voice nearly disappeared completely, and I gained the specific and not-so-pleasant sensation of ants crawling under the flesh of my face.

When one of my coworkers walked into my office to tell me something, he nearly dropped the files he was carrying. "OH MY GOD!" he almost screamed. "What happened to you?"

I was too preoccupied with my own misery to appreciate the irony of this.

For the next few days, anyone I encountered avoided me as if I were a leper or plague victim, despite my insisting that allergies are not contagious. I looked awful, though. I was a watery, itchy, sneezy, voiceless mess.

"Dude, you seriously need to medicate. Like, now. Go and take drugs," a friend ordered me one night.

A few days later, I asked the girl who thought my grandmother should kick my ass if she thought The Powers That Be were punishing me for my writerly sin.

"Oh definitely," she said without hesitation.

"Awesome," I managed to croak out, immediately brightening. I was thrilled that forces beyond my understanding thought the issue important enough to weigh in and deliver judgement. When you're a fledgling writer, you'll take any feedback you can get your hands on, even if it's from a wrathful deity bent on teaching you a lesson.

Apparently it was decided that the lesson hadn't been ground into my psyche enough, because the next day I suffered, on top of my allergies, a pretty hefty migraine. My coordination and vision were shot, and my shaking hands made even a task like tying my shoes into an epic process. It stayed with me through the day, and I still feel echoes of it even as I type this.

So did I learn my lesson? Would I, if given the chance to go back in time, write the Lord's name in vain again in that story?

... You bet your ass I would.

While I may now know the cost of doing so, the characters I write have not shared my experiences with me. They'll think, look, sound, and talk differently than I do. Who am I to edit what comes out of their mouths, to pare down what they think and color it with my own thoughts and beliefs? I believe my cousin responded to my grandma with a response similar to this.

To all the aspiring authors out there: don't suffocate your characters with... well... you. Give them the freedom to breathe and talk the way they want to. Trust their voices, and let them be heard. Who knows? Maybe one day it'll mean the difference between a published manuscript and something you file away in a dusty drawer.

Just... y'know... be prepared to defend and explain your characters' thoughts and actions with the dignity and maturity my cousin used when responding to my grandma's complaints, rather than the jackass methods I utilized in response to inquiring minds. Believe me on that one.

What I've been up to

I've been cussed at several times for my lack of updating the past month. "What've you been up to?" is the most common question I get.

Writing, man. I've been damn near writing my nuts off.

On top of chugging along on Magic in Dogtown, I completed another short story the other week, and will most likely do another one before Christmas.

I'm trying to maintain my Christmas deadline for finishing Dogtown, but that's looking more and more impossible the more I write of it. Time is flying by too quickly. I feel it weighing down on me, and each day I look in the mirror, I notice how shockingly white my hair is getting.

Still, I'll try. I'm writing as fast as I can. It's definitely been one hell of a ride so far. Thanks go to those who have stuck with me through the entire thing. You know who you are. I appreciate it.

-Corey-

Artist Meeting #2

Had another meeting with the potential artist for Magic in Dogtown. Hell, I could write a book just on the artist herself. She's that interesting.

I took eight pages of handwritten notes about the meeting. It was pretty productive. She gave me a sheet of "thumbnails" (tiny, rough draft drawings that could be the basis for something larger. Explaining them, she told me to think of what happens when you scroll your mouse over a link, sometimes a "thumbnail" version of the link or picture pops up), which were better than I'd even hoped for. She's going for a grittier, more urban look than I'd originally imagined, and it works.

Note to self: show up exactly on time for the next meeting. I was five minutes late to the first meeting, because someone gave me faulty directions. The artist didn't mention anything about it when we met, but when I was walking up to her I could see her furtively checking her watch. So I thought to myself, "Next time I absolutely must be at least five minutes early, for counterbalance."

Due to me miscalculating the time it would take to walk to the place... I showed up 30 minutes early. When she walked into the room, a carton of milk and container of mac n' cheese in her hands, to see me engaged in a conversation with a cute coworker, she was less than pleased. "You were late last time! I figured I would have time to eat first!"

Then, if I remember correctly, she proceeded to tell me how difficult it would be to eat in my horrifying presence to begin with. This is the same person who previously launched into a ten minute, graphic description of how she would destroy me and dispose of the body. Our admiration for each other knows no bounds.

So yes, the meeting went very well. The decision remains as to whether she should start working off of one of the thumbnails, or continue reading the rest of the novel before she reaches a final brainstorm. I'm fine with either option, but I'll have to discuss it with her... in a perfectly on time fashion, of course!

Stand-up.

Usually I get asked for spare change from about five or six times, at least, whenever I go out for a walk in the city. The homeless community seems to be growing each year. Some people I've seen for years, usually standing in the same spot day after day, and others seem to vanish into thin air after a few weeks. Instead of growing callous to it, it seems to get me more each time.

The same plea is voiced to me every time, normally a courteous, "Change please?" Or, "I'm hungry, man. Could you spare a little?"

The other day was different. I was walking down a busy street when I passed a bearded man in a dirty rain jacket. "I..." he began, halting. "Ehhhh I've run out of excuses," he said. "Could I have some money?"

"Sorry," I replied.

"I'm so broke I can't even pay attention," he informed me, matter of fact. People walking by couldn't help but laugh.

He reminded me of Mercutio, making quips even in a dismal situation. I heard him make a few more, but by the time I got home to write them down, I could only remember the first one.

Some people are larger than life, even when life strips them down and attempts to make them small. I've been asked many times why I would want to write a story based in a homeless community. The answer's simple, just walk around and you'll see.

Holy shit... my friend got published!

Yup, he did! Check it out on Amazon here. Buy it. Read it. I don't need to tell you to love it, because that'll come naturally. It's such an addicting read that you won't be able to help it.

One day I was perusing the closest Barnes & Noble when a book with a startling, hi-res cover caught my eye. I started paging through it, instantly entertained, when I was surprised to note that before I knew it, twenty minutes had passed. Yes... me, the least mathematically inclined person on the planet... had been ensnared by a physics book!

Wondering what author could have performed such sorcery, I checked the cover. No... it couldn't be THAT Aaron Santos, could it? I knew that guy! I checked the back flap, and yes, there was his picture smiling back at me. Holy shit... he got himself published!

I am so proud of him, you have no idea. This book is beyond cool. It's called How Many Licks: Or, How To Estimate Damn Near Anything. In it, he details formulas on how to approximate interesting problems. Like, you know in the movie Amélie, when she wonders aloud how many people are having an orgasm right that moment? Well, Aaron provides a formula with some humorous trivia on how to reach an actual approximation (hint: Amélie is waaaay off.) Other hypothetical problems he explores in the book are just as humorous:

How much would Spiderman have to eat each day to produce the webbing he makes in the movies?

What's the chance of meeting your Mr. or Mrs. Right?

How long would it take to eat the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters?

Which is more expensive: the NASA Probe or the subway in New York City?



You'll be surprised at the solutions he comes up with. I've been showing it around at work, and one of my employees has been quoting it every day since. Students majoring in mathematics have been loving it, and even the folks who study vastly different fields couldn't help turn page after page.

So seriously, check it out. You won't regret it.

And Aaron, I know I've told you before, but if you're reading this... congratulations! Your book kicks so much ass!

Two Faces

The other night I was running through Boston Common when I stumbled across a live, mini soap opera in action.

I was marveling how bright the moon was that night, like someone had just punched a hole through the darkness, when I heard it:

"YAAAAAAAAAARGGGGGHHHH!!!" An almost inhuman wail of rage and angst.

There were two girls, probably around eight years old, on bikes. One had stopped and was looking back over her shoulder at the other one, whose mouth was open in a perfect "O", her screams tearing through the night.

"RAAAAAAAAUUUUUGGGHHHHH!!!"

As far as I could tell, no one was hurt. An adult (the mother, perhaps) was walking towards the screaming child, speaking soothingly. The tiny human siren was just sitting on her bike, not moving, her head tipped straight back so that the out-pour of sound waves rocketing from her mouth could travel the farthest distance.

"YOU! HURT! MY! FEEEEEELLLLINNGS!!!" the girl wailed.

"I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings," the adult said. "I was just saying what you did was idiotic."

"WAAAAAAAAAAAA HAAAAA HAAAA HAAAAAAAAA!!! WAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!" the girl continued to holler.

I burst into laughter and crossed the street while her screams escalated behind me. She was roaring so loudly that her voice was gargling and growing husky from the effort.

It wasn't until a few minutes later that I wondered if I should feel bad about laughing at a crying child.

I guess people forget how powerful we feel things sometimes. Children don't seem to have any qualms with it, but adults? Forget about it.

A writer's job is to feel, though, or at least have the capacity to understand what makes people feel the way they do sometimes. I always picture a writer as an exposed wire out in the open, with the dangerous potential to react to the other currents buzzing around out there. In other words, writers have to approach the world vulnerable and defenseless. Otherwise, how are they going to be affected about it... so that they, in turn, can write about it?

This is why, among other things, I think criticism can be so tough for an artist. It's almost like they have to prepare two faces: a sensitive one for the world that they have to creatively interact with... and another, shielded face for when the work is critiqued and evaluated. It's tough to balance between the two faces, and to know exactly when to wear them.

So to the writers and artists out there: how do you navigate such a world?

Catch-Up

Hi again. It's been awhile.

I guess I should start with the big reveal: "The Secret Project" I've been mentioning was a collaboration between my cousin and I. Around the beginning of summer, he brought up the idea of working on a short story together as a wedding present for our cousin Erin. I thought it was a touching thing to do, and to boot he even had the basic premise of a story already in his head, which was awesome. He told it to me, and I readily agreed to work with him on it.

But writing is such a lonely job by description, so how are two people supposed to go about crafting a story together that reads coherently under one "voice"? I was worried, but I knew if I were ever to work on a TV show or big-budget film, I'd definitely be working with other writers, so why not start out with another writer like my cousin who is humble, talented... and best of all... patient! I knew that whatever challenges we'd face, that I was on a good team.

So I asked him about it, and he found a great entry on Neil Gaiman's Journal about how he works with other writers. We liked the bit about them taking turns sending each other sections of the story. It reminded me of reading a serial novel in sections, and I liked the idea of looking forward to trying to surprise each other with each section.

So we tried it out. And guess what? We finished it in time for the wedding, and were pleased with the entire experience. When talking about it, we both mentioned how the story went in directions neither of us could have foreseen. It was definitely a treat watching a story take a life of its own, and carve a narrative that was unpredictably satisfying.

The funniest thing was trying to explain to my friends why I couldn't go out some nights due to meeting a deadline.

"What deadline?" they would ask.

"Um... I can't... actually say," would be my only response.

"What do you mean you can't tell me!?"

I've discovered since that secrecy, no matter how clear-hearted in intent, is still an outright slap in the face to some. My apologies to those people! I was just keeping a promise to remain secretive about it while it was being written. No harm intended.

If you want to learn more about the project, check out my cousin's writing journal. There's a good chance he will write about the experience too from his perspective. And even if he doesn't write about it, check out his journal anyway. His entries are always charming and witty to read.

Artwork

My current emotional state is approaching ecstatic delirium. The root cause of all this happiness is simple: Magic in Dogtown will have cover artwork. Not only will it have cover artwork, but the person designing the cover happens to be one of my favorite people on the planet.

I'll undoubtedly dedicate an entire post about her later on, but here are some facts:
-Yes, she has done prior professional work. I checked it out the other week. It was amazing.
-If the miraculous occurs and the book is published, my desire is to have her artwork featured in the final print.
-She is an intriguing character herself and one of the most fascinating people I know. If I write about her in a later post, people reading the descriptions will probably doubt her existence and therefore my sanity.
-Regarding the fact above: yes, she is actually real.

I'll talk about the artwork more later on as it develops.

---

Yesterday I went to a housewarming party wearing a T-shirt my cousin bought me that depicts a fictional construction company called "Steel Erection." Other details about the company are equally lewd. Later into the night it aroused discussion.

Girl: I can't stop staring at your shirt. "Steel Erection"? That's gotta be fake.
Me: No, it's real. My family's in construction.
Girl: But it's obviously referring to a penis.
Me: (feigns dumb) What are you talking about?
Girl: That can't be an actual company. It's a joke about an erection.
Me: (looks down at picture on T-shirt showing a very phallic-looking crane) If you think penises are composed of steel, then I pity you.

The host of the party has a tendency to tear off his clothes, run around, and generally wreak havoc when excited. I thought it wise to escape a bit early to avoid this situation, but Tropical Storm Danny decided to unleash on me on the way home. It saddens me to report that my steel erection T-shirt did not hold up well in the monsoon.


Stay dry,
Corey

Vibrations

Saw District 9 on Friday -- having been wowed by Neill Blomkamp's short film Alive in Joberg -- and was really impressed. Thing was, I put my phone on silent in the theater and forgot to reset it afterwards... causing me to miss all my calls on Saturday and most on Sunday before realizing the mistake. Yeah, I'm just brilliant like that.

Today I got to switch offices. Or, I should say move back into my regular office and out of my summer workplace. When I got there, I had the unusual feeling that I was walking across the bottom of the ocean, the silt stirring and swirling beneath my fingertips. It was that dusty and untouched.

And yes, I'm still writing away. I'm on a fun chapter, and it shows in the writing. I'm trying to start each chapter on a fresh beat to keep things jumping, but I'll only know when I finish the rough draft and read over everything if it works or not.

I saw this music video and suddenly started thinking of a new part of a back story for the main character in the book, but it doesn't relate at all to the song or the video. Strange how the brain works sometimes. Connections that aren't really connected at all. Still, I thank the artists and the creators of the video for the inspiration!

Monday's almost over, everyone. Stay fun.

Adaptations

I have internet at home again. I am satisfied that my life can now be overwhelmed by various online shenanigans as usual.

I've been meaning to write about adaptations for awhile, because I've noticed a lot of misconceptions about them in my life. After all, these days one sees adaptations springing up every weekend. In the past twelve months there have been a few big ones: Watchmen, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, and The Time Traveler's Wife, just to name a few.

In any case, there's something important I think everyone should know:

Adaptations are usually not direct translations between different forms of media.

Instead, I prefer to think of them as spiritual cousins, in a way. For example, one of my favorite adaptations is the movie Thank You For Smoking, which springs from Christopher Buckley's novel of the same name. I read the book (normally a sure sign that will make someone immediately scorn the movie) and thought the movie was superb. I think the secret to its success was that it didn't attempt to follow Buckley's novel verbatim. Instead it focused on the main character's constantly evolving relationship with his son. If I remember correctly, they only had one quick interaction in the novel.

In this way, it didn't degrade the spirit of the novel by trying to recreate the exact same ideas on film (how could that compare to what readers already constructed in their imaginations?), but instead took a new and interesting route in the world the novel created. Novels are typically hundreds of pages long. It's not a good idea to try and "condense" one down into 80-120 pages of script.

I think the filmmakers behind the Lord of the Rings movies were smart about this as well. Fantasy fans can be pretty harsh critics, and the Rings epics are classics, so it would have been insane to recreate the novels word-for-word on the screen. Instead, the films are different enough to be exciting and surprising to fans of the novels, but familiar enough to appease die-hards.

So, here are two rules I think every adaptation should follow:

1. Don't try to make the movie an exact replica of the source material. Instead, they should be separate, but definitely related, ideas.

2. More importantly, the original creator or author absolutely has to be on board with the adaptation.

For example, Watchmen was an intriguing adaptation, but author Alan Moore was very much against the idea of it being adapted into a movie. As much as I admire some of the talent behind the film version, I never like to hear about instances like this where the author's requests were ignored.

I've never really been keen on the idea of adapting, but two stories in particular prove to be the exception:

****Neuromancer, by William Gibson -- Filmmakers have been trying to adapt this for years. I think Gibson himself even penned a script at some point. The story, set in the future, follows a hacker who is trying to recapture the glory of what he used to be... at an extreme cost. Basically, I'd love the chance to adapt this, because frankly, it'd be really damn difficult. The novel's brilliant imagery would be tough to capture in a script, the characters are morally compromised in a way that would be difficult to make them sympathetic in a shorter media form, and the plot is complex to such a degree that it's near impossible to weave into a 90 page script. So yes, my desire to adapt is partly due to the sheer sense of awe I feel at Gibson's story, and partly due to artistic masochism.

****World War Hulk, by Greg Pak, Peter David, John Romita Jr., and Gary Frank -- Okay, don't knock it, please. A lot of people scoff at me when I tell them that the Hulk is one of my favorite characters in any form of media. "Where's your sense of good taste?" they inquire. "Didn't you have a concentration in Literature in college?" When questioned about this, I usually ask them if they have ever actually read any Hulk comics, to which the answer is begrudgingly in the negative.

When written well, Bruce Banner and his green alter ego can be very, very compelling. Try reading some of author Bruce Jones' arc in The Incredible Hulk series if you don't believe me. Whenever I let a cynic borrow some issues of this arc, they never, ever fail to get sucked right in despite themselves. Anyway, the World War Hulk story line ensnared me because none of the characters are really good guys. It's akin to watching an episode of "The Shield" for me, because I wasn't sure who to root for, but was glued to my seat nonetheless.

I always pictured it becoming a direct-to-video animated release (I wouldn't kid myself of trying to go theatrical), with the amazing voice-actor Keith David (Gargoyles, Spawn the Animated Series, Coraline, Platoon, Crash, etc) voicing the cunning, intelligent Hulk of the story line. Many people associate the Hulk with the feeble-minded ogre depicted in the movies who has a penchant for speaking in the third person, but in the stories I've read he is anything but.

Unfortunately, it is unlikely that my dream of adapting this comic will ever come to pass, because the prequel, Planet Hulk, has already been made. And if you watch the trailer, I'd bet you a drink that that amazingly badass voice of the Hulk is voiced by none other than Keith David himself. Isn't funny how things develop, sometimes?

---

Is there anything you want to see adapted, or would want to try to adapt?

Still In The Lab

So all of my stuff is in the new apartment. Is all of it unpacked? No. Is it all organized into a cohesive living environment? Not really.

But it's clean, yes. And... all my stuff's in it. That's all I really care about at this point.

The writing is going pretty well. Coming to the computer lab after work puts me on a more refined writing schedule, which helps productivity in that department a ton. Maybe I should continue doing it this way even after Internet is restored to my apartment...

... Oh wait, one of the lab employees has just informed us that they're closing early today, so nix that last thought. I'm used to the academic year hours, which are 24/7. Oh well. I got a lot done this afternoon, so I'm pretty satisfied. Exhausted, though. I might just chill with a DVD tonight and recline for a bit. That actually sounds kind of nice, even if it a Saturday night tonight.

Some exciting but secretive stuff is in the works. I'll update about it when I am able to and it isn't so top-secret anymore.

Ugh, if my fractured thought processes -- evident by my scattered sentence structure -- is any indication, I'm completely exhausted. Hopefully I'll make it all the way through the DVD before conking out for the night...

Anyway, I hope your night tonight is more exciting than mine. Have fun and stay cool in this sticky weather.

Good night.

Channeling Hank Moody and Being Assaulted by Hazardous Chemicals

The full realization of my Internet dependence hit me when I realized I would be without it at home for a few days. In the process of moving to a new apartment, these things happen. Yet, I'm still amazed at how much I basically use my home computer to go online. I catch myself attempting to log on in the morning to check the weather before I head to work, only to shake my head at my own stupidity.

So here I am, writing this entry from a large university computer lab. It makes me fondly recall the episode of "Californication" when Hank Moody -- having smashed his home PC in a fit of writer's block-induced rage -- bangs out his blog entry for "Hell-A Magazine" from a nearby Mac Store. The difference being I'm not getting paid to write this. Nor am I as cool as Hank Moody. And I'm not in California, either.

Okay, so maybe there isn't that much of a resemblance.

I also had to take a break from writing for a few days. I've been cleaning to such an extent (both the old apartment and the new) that at this point I'm pretty much exhaling Clorox and sweating Windex. Yeah, I baked my brain on cleaning chemicals. I wore a filtration mask, but that can only do so much. And no, I didn't actually mix bleach with ammonia. I used to clean rooms for a living, so I've learned that much at least. Regardless, the fumes of the chemicals I was using were overpowering. Even Mr. Clean's bald head would've shriveled under the sheer power of what I was cleaning with.

So after a weekend of heavy cleaning and heavy lifting, I walked into work on Monday and immediately knew I was too ill to be there. Have you ever watched a sane person talk to someone completely out of their mind? The crazy person rambles on and on, and the sane person just smiles and nods those little polite nods, desperately mapping out possible escape plans. I was getting those very same smiles and nods at work whenever I'd open my mouth. Who knows what point I was even trying to make. So after awhile, I brought up the option of taking half a sick day and just going home early. My co-workers immediately agreed. One even suggested that I just take off the whole day.

My poor co-workers. Yet again, strangeness and I are pretty good buddies by now, so they're probably used to it anyway.

So until I get Internet at home, which probably won't be until next week, I'll be doing most of my writing here in the lab. Ah well, writing is writing, regardless of where it's done.

Later, everyone. Stay outta trouble.

Style

It's been a busy week so far. Catching flights, catching up at work, catching up with a few friends, and working out my move to a new apartment are all pretty exciting. Next week holds the promise for more adventure.

Speaking of exciting, I'm coming up to a major event in Dogtown. The big choice I face is, after the event occurs, do I want to switch writing styles -- like third person to first person, etc -- or maintain the current style I'm using? When I'm reading other authors and they pull a stunt like that, I usually find it frustrating or annoying with very few exceptions. I'm mulling it over now in the hopes that I'll have reached a decision by the time I get to the event.

In regards to reading, after finishing Wally Lamb's The Hour I First Believed, and Orson Scott Card's Ender in Exile, two great but also tragic novels, I was in the mood for something comedic. My cousin recommended Paul Neilan's Apathy And Other Small Victories, which turns out to the the perfect balance to the other two novels. In other words, it's fucking hilarious. Reminds me a lot of John Kennedy Toole's A Confederacy of Dunces, another one of my favorites.

For movies, I haven't been to the theater in awhile, but two movies have been recently released that I've been looking forward to for a long time: The Hurt Locker and 500 Days of Summer. So far these films have received nothing but sheer praise, yet I keep hearing people say that nothing good is coming out this summer. Why not check these ones out?

I think the next post will be about adaptations. Until then, "stay frosty" folks. Bonus points to anyone who can guess which movie that line comes from. Hint: J.K. Rowling paid homage to it in her final Harry Potter book.

Pecking Away

Home in Ohio for the grandma's 80th birthday, or "the 41st anniversary of her 39th birthday," as my dad puts it.  So I'm currently home relaxing with the family, seeing some much-missed relatives, and chilling with my two dogs.  Life is good, as the saying goes.

When I'm not doing one of the above activities, I'm pecking away at Magic In Dogtown.  I had to stop earlier due to the sudden urge to alter a crucial plot point of the story.  Mulling it over while running an errand, I decided not to pursue the change.  I'll wait until the first draft is finished until I begin to think of alterations, major or minor.

I constantly do that, go back to alter the pacing or rework dialogue before a draft is even finished.  I view it as a bad habit, so I'm trying to cut back.  Sure, the changes may help, but it halts momentum.  And, while writing, momentum is everything.  If I'm not racing to the finish with that first draft I know I'm in trouble.

So this weekend, among other things, I'm basically just trying to stay outta trouble.  I hope you all have success doing the same.

Short Update

Hi again.

Just a short update due to a busy schedule this week.  Here's what's new:

1.  The collaborative project I'm working on is going swimmingly.  We worked out an alternating due date system that involves us sending each other sections of the story every other week.  The other writer is a genius and it's an exciting challenge trying to keep up with the ideas he sends me.

2.  Wrote a lot of Magic In Dogtown.  I found an alternate way to explore the characters' pasts without resorting to flashbacks that I rather enjoy developing.  It's too early to tell whether or not readers will enjoy reading it -- although I hope they do -- but it's definitely been a blast to write so far.

3.  Birthdays, birthdays, and more birthdays.  There've been so many birthdays of my loved ones to remember and celebrate recently that it's hard to keep up!  I'm horrible at remembering, so I hope I didn't forget anyone and offend!

4.  I've been doing my best to explore some of Bryan Fuller's work, through Hulu.com.  The television episodes he's written are always simultaneously intense and touching (Past work includes Pushing Daisies and Dead Like Me).  Amazing talent.  Check out his shows when you get the chance.

That's it.  Happy Fourth everyone!

Duking It Out

A few years back, after coming out of a summer blockbuster, my Mom threw up her arms and asked: "Why does every action movie basically come down to a fist fight?  It seems like the past ten movies I've watched have a scene where two guys just punch each other.  It's getting boring."

After thinking about it for a moment, I realized that she was right.  A lot of action movies, while technically and visually impressive, are pretty downright boring story-wise.  A professor of mine once said, "Fight scenes put the story on hold until they're through."  So how does one craft a good action sequence without falling into that same trap?  Since a few of my stories have had action scenes in them, I watched some of my favorite violent movies to see what the masters did right.  Here's what I came up with:

1.  The battle can't be the only focus of the scene.  It's a broad and vague rule, but pretty damn essential.  Remember the amazing final bare-knuckle boxing match in the movie Snatch?  Some of the greatest, and most hilarious, things happening in the scene are going on outside of the ring.  You have two sides backing each fighter, and both have alternate plans for Brad Pitt's character.  Both sides are wondering (and fearing) what exactly Mikey the Pikey is up to in that ring.  The result of the battle affects all of the characters in the room, and even a ton more offscreen.  If the scene had just been about Brad Pitt fighting a scary-looking boxer, it definitely would have still been cool, but not nearly as memorable.

The rule doesn't just apply to movies, either.  Author Bruce Jones once did a run of The Incredible Hulk comics, and crafted an epic showdown between the Hulk and archvillain Abomination.  The battle itself was amazing, with the two monsters chucking crushed semi trucks at each other and trying to beat one another senseless with an uprooted tree trunk.  Hulk's line: "Did I... ever think... ABOUT THAT!?" still gets me to this day.  Yet amazing as the fight itself was, it was only a small part of what was going on.  Abomination's ex-wife was involved, as well as a sniper perched high up on a helicopter, a nefarious super-secret shadow organization hell-bent on getting Hulk blood, and the mysterious Mr. Blue trying to aid Bruce Banner from afar.  The remains one of my favorite comic book battles ever, and to boot Jones also utilized rule number two...

2.  The battle has to come from somewhere, so set it up properly.   Just the other weekend, I was watching a popular animated action film that was made a few years back.  While my eyeballs were definitely treated to a visual feast, the movie ended with me ultimately unimpressed.  Many cans o' whupass were opened... but why, exactly?  The only real lead-up I got was the main character saying something like, "Brace yourself... I can sense now that there is a battle coming." or something of similar ilk.  Okay, cool, there's a battle coming.  But again, why?  What are the heroes and villains risking their lives over?  If the readers or audience aren't clear on the reason, they aren't going to be fully behind the scuffle.

Again, Bruce Jones rocked this aspect in the Hulk comic.  The readers could understand EXACTLY why Hulk and Abomination would want to beat the living hell out of each other.  I was once working next to someone reading the comic, and I heard her go, "Oh daaaamn..." while reading the build-up to the fight.  I'm sure this would have been music to Jones' ears had he been present.

3.  Keep the pace.  I'm a firm believer of this rule, and it really applies to all aspects of your writing.  Escalate the pace throughout your story, and your action scenes.  I hate it when a book or movie starts off great, then slowly dwindles away into a disappointment.  The prisoner transport/semi truck chase scene in The Dark Knight is a perfect example of brilliant pacing; it builds and builds and never lets up.  Block out the beats in your mind or in an outline, and have a trusted friend read it.  Watch their reactions as much as you listen to what they have to say.  Body language can be very revealing; if the readers or audience seemed coiled in upon themselves, that's a good sign.

4.  Important action scenes must have equally intense consequences.  I always find it hilarious when two characters in a movie or TV show get into a scuffle, beating the crap out of each other, and the only thing they have to show for it is a torn shirt, rumbled tie or slightly bloody lip.  If you've ever been in a fight or seen one, you'll know that fists leave... you know... MARKS.  Cracked cheek bones and swollen eye sockets aren't uncommon.  Similarly, a battle scene that you write should have a lasting impression on your script or story.  So two characters pummel each other, something interrupts them, and then the villain shouts something like, "Watch your back!  Next time you're dead.  DEAD!"  What's the point?  Many hours, words, pages, and efforts have gone into that scene for what purpose?  Before you launch into constructing a fight scene, think first what you want the result of that battle to be.  If there is no major consequence, then consider saving yourself the effort and skipping the scene altogether.  Think of the show "Dexter" for example.  The main character's actions -- and kills -- have consequences that ripple across several seasons.  Nothing in the show is done without an earth-shaking consequence following it.

...

Anyway, try out these guidelines and see if they work for your stories.  I hope they do wonders!

---

Earlier this week, my cousin recommended the show "Californication" to me, which I had been meaning to see for a while now.  He's right: you must watch it.  Beautiful writing and performances.  I finished the first season in a few days (having watched it online on Netflix), deliriously happy that I had gotten a chance to watch the show.  I'm literally afraid to watch the second season, in fear that it won't live up to the great heights that the first one set. 

Publishing

So, every day I go through a few dozen articles from publishing sites, trying to glean away any applicable tips and tricks.  Usually, I come up with nothing.  Usually.

Aside from sparse info on submission packages, there are as many methods to getting published or professionally recognized as there are people on this planet.  Thus, what I post on this online journal, in regards for my attempts to get published, will most likely not be a fail-safe map that can be repeated to the letter.  The usual mantra that I hear, and believe in, is perseverance, networking, and simply taking pleasure in one's own art.

But we already knew that, right?

Sort of.  The perseverance part can be tough if external encouragement is sparse, and sometimes it's so easy to stress about what isn't happening that it's easy to forget to enjoy what is occurring... namely the awesome experience of just creating.  That's something I always try to remember when I'm writing: "Don't forget to just enjoy it.  This is your passion, so enjoy this."

There's also the vast array of technological aids at our disposal these days to think about.  John August just released his fast-paced short story, "The Variant", to purchase online, and he even describes on his website in detail how to self-publish online in the style he used.  I'm not sure if I would want to try this method for a full novel just yet, but it would be interesting to try it out on a short story like he did.  Again, it's something to mull over.

So even if the whole prospect of getting published sounds dreadfully intricate or intense, I'm starting to get a little excited about it.  This is something I love doing, and if some adventure, stress, and strategy are involved, then so be it.  I'm psyched either way.

---

I always attempt to utilize my Netflix subscription to its full potential, and was recently pleasantly surprised by the film The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford.  It was unsettlingly beautiful and powerfully performed.  I recommend if you're a fan of gorgeous cinematography, subtle performances, or unique and odd films.  I wouldn't recommend it for everyone, but if you want something a little different, try it out for size.

---

The next post might involve writing action scenes or description and pacing, but we shall see.  Stay tuned nevertheless!

Flying Around

I've just gotten home from a rather wonderful weekend in Ohio, and am currently writing this as I wait for the Chinese food I ordered to arrive, and the headache that sprung up mid-flight to scuttle away back to wherever it came from.  The weekend was great for three very important reasons:

1.  I got to see one of my best friends from Ohio get married to a beautiful bride.

2.  I also had the pleasure of spending time with my family and two very energetic doggies.

3.  After a week of barely getting to read more than a paragraph at a time, I managed to catch up during my flights.

It's really no wonder weddings are featured in so many movies.  The people you know who are involved in them are cast in such a dramatically different light.  They're so... vulnerable.  So exposed to hordes of people at one of the most life-altering moments of their lives.  I'd almost forgotten how touching the whole adventure is.

Anyway, the food hath arriveth.  I'll be sure to write more this week.  Cheers all!

Fighting The Fatigue

I'm sure you've been there.  Felt it and endured it.  I think we all have.

You're writing -- or creating any other type of art -- and things are going splendidly.  You're at the point where even thinking about your creation makes you excited.  Everything's awesome and there's a bright place that you can see in the distance.  It looked far away once before, but not so much anymore.  That incredible thing, Completion, is so very very close.

And then it isn't.

That's when it settles in.  Takes hold of your body and thoughts.  Ask anyone and they'll tell you that it really is a physical thing.  It's nearly a personified force that you can gauge and measure: The Fatigue.

It cements itself in your bones and you can feel it weighing down every step you take.  Just the thought of getting through the day, let alone investing time to paint a new picture or write another story, is shudder-inducing.  When you finally do get some time to yourself, even sleeping seems like an effort.  Lounging around, watching television (usually bad television), and generally wasting time tends to have a higher likelihood of occurring.  Before you know it, weeks or months have passed and that once luminous Completion is a forgotten, dusty thing tossed sadly into a corner.

So how does one, you know, fight The Fatigue?

First of all, understanding that it's not such an ominous, horrible force of nature is a giant step in the right direction.  Creating any type of art is usually an enormously involved task.  Artists put their entire body and soul into their work, so is getting completely exhausted that unnatural?  Not really.  It's just a sign that you're really working and thinking very deeply.  One gets achy and drained from intense exercise... and, I'm guessing if you ask any prolific published author, they will tell you that writing is most definitely a rigorous form of exercise.  So don't beat yourself up over feeling tired.  After all, it's symbolic of a good workout.

Second, let yourself rest a bit.  Watch some TV.  Go hang out with some friends or take a loved one out to for a walk or dinner.  The world's still spinning out there, and isn't it that very world that gave you your inspiration to begin with?

Sometimes that isn't enough, though.  When I was writing my last script, The Fatigue hit me harder than it ever had before in my life.  I could probably list a million reasons why, but I won't go into that here.  One thing that helped me get back on track, along with the much-needed encouragement of my cousin, was that I did something very simple and natural:

I got angry.

Anger can cause one to do some pretty stupid things, but that's what it does: it makes one... DO.  It causes people to fly into action.  And, if utilized and harnessed correctly, it can make you do some wonderful things as well.  So that's what I did.  I raged.  I was pissed that I had neglected my story for so long, made so many excuses.  I literally fought The Fatigue tooth and nail.

And guess what I found out?  Turns out The Fatigue isn't so tough after all.  It's just another thing that becomes trampled and forgotten.  An enemy that seemed so scary, but, almost disappointingly, wasn't.  "All that agony over that?"  You'll be amazed and happy how wonderful it feels to get back to work.

So if you ever feel that way like I did, try some anger on for size.  It's a start, right?  And sometimes that's all that we need.

Inspiration

Fearlessness.  Fearlessness inspires me.

Or, the ability to feel fear and to forge ahead anyway.

That would be my answer to the question of what inspires me as a writer.

Of course there are a multitude of authors and screenwriters that I look up to in regards to their talent.  J.D. Salinger, Philip K. Dick, Alice Sebold, Dennis Lehane, Neil Gaiman, Shane Black, Haruki Murakami, John Kennedy Toole, Lisa Carey, Ryu Murakami, David Brin, Ray Bradbury... the list is close to endless, but those who conquer fear top it.

... Like the teacher who faces a class of a few dozen, disinterested, hormonal students, and refuses to give up on them.

... Like the comedian who, alone on stage and under hot lights, presses on to find a connection between an audience of several dozen, or several thousand vastly unique people.

... Like the astronaut who travels into the harsh, vast reaches or space, or the student who risks everything to study in a country that holds a culture incredibly different to his/her own.

You know.  The brave ones.

Recently I came across this interview with Sasha Grey.  It's a pretty long clip to watch, close to an hour I think, but I couldn't tear myself away from it.  She was very articulate and candid about her career, to the point of being almost poetic at times.  Here is a person who set out a career plan for herself, and went after it intelligently and with the focus and drive of a homing missile.

Not to mention I was also amused by her thoughts on recent SpongeBob commercials in regards to sex-based advertising.  

In any case, I think this kind of fearlessness and relentless determination to follow through with her goals is essential for all artists.  In a world where people usually have no hesitation to be ruthlessly critical of others' projects, performances, and aspirations, one absolutely has to be gutsy to want to become an artist.  I think that's almost as important as loving what you do.

You love creating art?  Okay.  But are you ready for anyone and everyone under the sun to judge it, and to perhaps openly hate you for it?  It sounds dramatic, sure, but think of all the times you've talked about a movie and the other person says something like, "Oh god, I'm not seeing that.  I hate [insert actor/actress here]."

Have this person ever actually met the artist?  Usually not.  Yet he/she has no qualms with talking openly making assumptions about the person based entirely on a single performance, or sometimes even just celebrity gossip.  I admit I've been guilty of this too.

Now, I haven't seen any of Sasha Grey's movies, including Soderbergh's The Girlfriend Experience, but I can only imagine some of the venom some people may hurl at her due to her career as an adult film star.  Yet, she doesn't give the appearance of being the slightest bit perturbed by the prospect of this, nor does she clam up or become embarrassed when people ask her about her experiences in the adult film industry.  Think of any time you've been on stage, or had to give a presentation in front of strangers, or read your writing aloud to the class.  It can be scary, even when you don't have a career that some people may openly oppose.  Pretty daunting, eh?

Yet she doesn't seem daunted in the slightest.  And that, if I may say so, inspires me.

Louie

I've seen him countless times since I arrived in Boston, but one time in particular sticks out in my memory.

It was during a date last summer.  It was a sunny weekend, and I was walking down Newbury Street with the girl.  We were chatting pleasantly, on our way to the downtown theater when it happened.

"Mooove!  Mooove!  Mooove!"

Similar in beat and repetition to the bleeping noise a construction vehicle makes while in reverse, the warning noise was heading straight toward us.  The crowds began to part.  Tourists craned their necks towards the sound, and locals smiled and nudged their friends.

Flags rising from the rear of his tricycle, feet pumping in their steady and endless rhythm, he appeared, shouting his usual mantra.  When he got within ten feet of us, I waved and greeted him happily with, "Hi Louie!"

He stopped shouting long enough to nod sagely at me before continuing on his way, peddling into the distance.

The girl turned towards me in utter amazement.  She looked at me as if I had just randomly high-fived Hugh Jackman or shook hands with the president.  "You know him!?"

"What?  No, I wish," I replied.

"Well then how the heck did you know his name?  I've seen that guy riding around a billion times."

I shrugged.  "He has Facebook groups and fan clubs based on him.  He's famous."

And he is.  I just saw this neat video based on him.  Check it out to see a Boston legend.  Creds to the awesome filmmakers who put it together:

Short video on Louie

---

It just goes to show that, again, stories are everywhere.  If you're ever feeling stuck, strike up a conversation with that person who catches your eye.  You know who he/she is.  After all, some of the best adventures start out with merely a simple greeting.

Terrorizing Children With The Power Of Reading

I think the best thing J.K. Rowling has done is compel children to read again. Before her famous series was published, I rarely saw a kid under 10 years of age read something consisting of 400+ pages. Nowadays it's almost become a fad to read about that boy with the scar on his forehead, and it's not uncommon for people to react in outrage against someone who hasn't read the books.

[Note: Details about the following story have been changed and altered for privacy reasons so that it won't come back to haunt anyone.]

When I was in elementary school, one year my grade attended a weekly reading class, held in a library and, surely enough, taught by the librarian. Some days the librarian would read to us, other days she would let us select one of the children's books off the shelves and read on our own for twenty minutes. Pretty cool, eh?

Wrong.

I remember one snowy day walking down into that basement library to find the librarian staring at us, eyes bloodshot under hooded lids. The temperature in the room seemed chillier than usual that day, the lights slightly dimmer. The corners of her lips were tilted downward as she watched us silently file into our regular seating arrangements. The entire atmosphere screamed doom. I wouldn't have been surprised if a raven had croaked apocalyptic warnings to us upon entry.

We looked back at her, sensing already that this wasn't going to be a pleasant experience. "Okay," she finally began. "Today we're going to be reading a story about a cow."

Someone coughed.

"QUIET!" She roared.

Now remember, this was winter season, and we were kids. Kids are practically germ magnets during this period, constantly sniffling, coughing, and sneezing on each other to point where it basically becomes forgettable background noise. Later on when I was coaching kids who were this age, it seemed like at least 40% of my class was battling some type of minor virus or germ every single week of winter. So when our librarian seemed irked that day to the point of pure fury at each and every little cough, we were flabbergasted.

Even after we tried muffling our coughs into our shirts or sleeves, she had still been driven to the breaking point. Two pages into the story about the cow, she snapped the book shut and said: "Okay, this is getting ridiculous. If you have to cough, cough it all out now and get it over with. Because after I start this story again, if I hear one more cough... that's it. Storytime's over. I'll stop and you'll have to spend the rest of the period in Quiet Time."

No. Not that. Anything but the dreadful Quiet Time. At that age, being forced to sit in complete silence is the equivalent of throwing holy water on that girl in The Exorcist. So, hilariously, we obliged. We all started coughing, hoping that by hacking violently away then, that our germ reserves would be depleted to the point where it would take awhile for them to rekindle enough strength, hopefully waiting until after the story was done.

When we thought we were through, she gritted her teeth, re-opened the book, and pressed on.

I remember very little about the story. It had something to do with a spirited young cow who had somehow escaped her confinement to pursue a series of adventures. The cow traveled around, met unique personalities, and generally just kept on getting into trouble. I think.

The entire time I was fighting that familiar tickle in the back of my throat. I needed so desperately to cough to the point where my ears were ringing. My lungs ached and I had broken out into a cold sweat. I clamped my jaw down, willing myself not to break the silence. I looked over at another classmate and almost burst out laughing: he was trying so hard not to purge his lungs that his face had turned to the color of a grape. Veins popped out on his shiny forehead, and his eyes were bulging with the strain.

When we got to the point where the cow had managed to become trapped in the bottom of a well, someone broke; a muffled cough had managed to escape one student -- a shy, mousy girl in glasses -- who rarely talked. She immediately paled and lowered her head in shame.

"THAT'S IT!" the librarian bellowed. She slammed the book shut and shot us that hooded gaze once again. "Can't say I didn't warn you. We're stopping there."

A few students cried out that this wasn't fair.

This didn't sway the librarian in the slightest. "Not fair? Coughing occasionally is natural, but every few seconds? That's deliberate. It was your choice. Now we'll never know what happened to the cow, will we? How did she get out? Did they fill the well with water and have her float out? Did they pull her out with ropes? Or was she stuck down there forever?" She shrugged. "Guess it'll always be a mystery." At that she put the book away and left us to sulk in Quiet Time.

---

And you know what? I never did find out what happened to that damn cow. All these years later and still no luck. The worst part is I don't know the title of the book, so I can't go look it up and find out. So if anyone reading this knows about that story or at least what it's called, let me know so that tale can finally be put to rest!

I didn't think on the incident too often back then (by then we were used to a few teachers bringing their personal problems to work), but the older I get, the more amazed I am at what happened. Stopping a story because of sick kids? Seriously? Seriously!?

I think it was Stephen King who said (maybe in his book On Writing) that in order to write, one must read. I agree entirely. Read often. Read from a variety of authors. If something in particular grabs your attention, pay attention to how the author pulled you in. Enjoy it.

Even if you are discouraged by a raging librarian having a bad day... read anyway.

An entry with a side of salt.

How many projects is too many?  You can address this in your blog, if you want.

   -Brian

To be absolutely honest, I'm not sure.  Remember I'm not a published or esteemed author in any means, so take whatever I say with a grain of salt.  Actually, more than a grain.  A ocean's worth, probably.

I personally try not to wrap my head around too many projects/assignments at once in the fear that I'll burn myself out.  As previously mentioned, I usually save other ideas to start writing after the current story I'm working on, but everyone's different.  I'm sure people can and have pulled off many simultaneous assignments before to much success.

Usually what I try to do is have one large and one short project in the works.  For my last script I took a small break and wrote a short story to keep things fresh.  I found it worked really well for me and revitalized me for going back to work on the script.  This time I'm working on two stories once again: Magic In Dogtown and the collaboration.  Presently I'm psyched, but I feel like if I'd hesitate before agreeing to start work on a third project.

Again, though, everyone's different.  If you want to take on a lot of projects, do so.  If you find that it becomes overwhelming, take a short break and scale back to a level that's more comfortable.

---

The AC's installed once again.  It seemed like winter wasn't ready to let go until summer came along to the party and surprised everyone.  The high today is supposed to be 80, and lemme tell you, it does feel pretty darn warm outside.  Boston gets extremely humid in the summer, much to my discontent.  I find it difficult to function, much less write, in oppressing humidity.  On the bright side I find that Boston residents, in most cases, seem much more at ease and carefree once the sun decides to finally peek out of the clouds.  The great thing about being around a bunch of positive people is that you find out how contagious it really is.

Zombies, Marathons, and the usual.

As I write this, the view out my window is steadily filling up with folks from all over the continent -- most of them already happily intoxicated -- who are here to watch the Boston Marathon.  The same Boston Marathon that happens to weave right past my building.  Thus, with thousands of runners darting past the front of my building and dozens of people relieving themselves in the alley out back, I'll probably be confined to my apartment for most of the day.  If you haven't had the fortune of watching the Boston Marathon before, try to do so one of these years.  My dad ran it a few years back, and it's one of the most inspiring things I've ever seen.  Practically the whole city shuts down (which is why I'm presently at home instead of at work), and fans happily cheer on everybody.  No matter how awful your running form or how slow your time is, the roar of the crowd is thunderous for every runner.  For some reason it brings to mind stories I've heard about the free-loving 60's, but I could be wrong.

This week has been pretty good for writing.  I worked past a descriptive problem on a certain scene and after that the floodgates opened.  Inspiration is everywhere if one has the time to go out and see it.  Most of the things I saw in the past week are so silly that no one would believe them if I inserted them into a story.  For example, I was fortunate enough to witness a zombie outbreak last Tuesday.  Yes, a zombie outbreak.

One of my good friends from college has recently returned to Massachusetts for an internship at one of the city's hospitals, so I met up with her and another friend for some Thai food.  After work I rushed to get to the place on time, only to find that my other two friends were running a bit behind.  Deciding to take a short walk down Mass. Ave. and enjoy the weather, I was awaken from a daydream by blood.

A crowd of people, of twenty to thirty, were covered in blood and gashes.  Clothes torn and tattered, they shambled down the street, groaning with otherworldly agony.  I stopped in my tracks, immediately realizing the whole thing was staged but extremely amused nonetheless, and watched them shuffle past me.  Faces grey, eyes glazed, they barely paid me any heed.  One particularly tall zombie held up a cardboard sign that read "Uhhhh," which immediately caused me to burst into laughter.  They came upon a Wendy's fast food restaurant, and threw themselves against the storefront windows, moaning and mock-clawing at the glass.  People eating inside, still chewing on their meals, calmly snapped photos on their phones of this unique display.  The zombies quickly grew bored of terrorizing the Wendy's and continued on their way south down Mass. Ave.

When I told my friends this at dinner, they didn't believe me at first.  Oh well.  As a zombie fanboy, I was thrilled for days afterward.

I have been told numerous times recently by friends and family to start looking for an agent.  Y'know, what Jeremy Piven plays on "Entourage".  Despite my horrendous grammar, spelling, and punctuation, I'm much more familiar with the act of writing than I am with the world of publishing, agents, and self-advertising.  I've read and heard a lot of advice on the subject, but it's all so varied in content that it's difficult to retrieve any solid consistencies or plans of action.  I want to do some more research on the subjects so that I hopefully will have a better idea of what to do after Magic in Dogtown is completed.  Either way, you'll have a front seat and get to laugh at me floundering moronically about or see what actually works.  I'm hoping for the latter, but who knows?

Peace all, and again happy Marathon Monday.

CURRENT PROJECT

When I finished "Death's Horizon" (I still need to change that title), a few people asked me what the next project I would be working on next.  Truthfully, I was working on the next project while I was completing "Death's Horizon", so I don't really consider it the next project.  I always try to think one or two stories ahead of what I'm writing, partially so that I can be ready to start on it right away as soon as I've completed the previous story, but mainly so I can avoid writer's block or getting stuck.  This way, if an element of the plot line stumps me, it's no bother because I'm still writing the current work.  Since the best cure for writer's block is writing, it's a pretty good system for me.

That being said, when an idea is mostly finalized in my brain, I try to let a few people know about what I'm developing.  It helps build excitement (mostly in me), and more crucially it adds and element of expectancy, as in when I know people are expecting me to finish something, the less likely I am to quit halfway through and let it vanish into oblivion.  This worked during a halt in the last script's creation when my cousin kept on messaging me: "WHEN AM I GOING TO GET TO READ YOUR SCRIPT!!??"  Thank heavens he did that, because otherwise I don't know if I would have completed it.

SO, unless something elementally wrong develops with my current work-in-progress, in the effect that the story begins to offend me or transforms into something I cannot recover, positing about it on this online journal is a good assurance that it will definitely be completed.

Anyway, here goes...

I've taken a short break from the screenplay world and have re-entered the novel universe after a long hiatus from the form; it's been six years since I've written a novel -- way too long.  It centers around a love story amongst the homeless community in a large city.  The working title is Magic in Dogtown, and I've been working hard trying to complete it in as short of a time frame as possible.

I'm not writing it as a form of documentation about homelessness (which in itself is a very important subject that I hope more people do investigate properly), but rather a completely fictional story about a group of people struggling to survive an altered lifestyle that most of us simply can't imagine.  In any case, I hope it will be something you will enjoy reading.

Remember the ending of Sid & Nancy?  How, despite the grisly subject matter, it still managed to make you smile?  Whether or not that quality was useful for a true-life story of Sid Vicious, I really enjoy stories that surprise the audience or readers with a sense of warmth, even if it is tinged with sadness.  Whether or not Magic in Dogtown will achieve similar reactions in readers is to be determined, but it's something I definitely think about when writing it.

A Story's Sound

Sometimes, when I was in a screenwriting or English class, a classmate would ask me if I wrote the material while listening to music. To which I would reply, "Nope." But does music help me write? Absolutely.

Many people I know write to music, whether it be reports, labs, or short stories. I've heard it helps calm and focus some, which is great. For me, it usually tends to be distracting while I'm in the actual process of typing/writing. For my high school senior project I wrote a novel, and mostly wrote it during study halls in the computer lab, so people noise doesn't bother me one bit; however, when I put headphones on I usually start thinking about how cool the song is instead of what I'm working on.

So what do I use music for in regards to writing? Preparation.

You know how sometimes you'll be going about your business until a particular scent hits you and WHAM! You're ripped out of whatever you were doing and transported back to a section of your life with incredible clarity? Some things have that power, and that's kind of the way I utilize sound or music. Sometimes a certain song will impact me in a way that gets my imagination running. Sometimes it isn't even a song that I like! My computer is filled with such songs, some that I'm embarrassed to have (so please, no peeking at my itunes!). If you're interested in what songs I've used, here are two examples:

For my script Chemical Love, I one of the songs I listened to was Cake's "Frank Sinatra."

For the story I'm working on now, I've found John Frusciante's "Omission" has helped a great deal.

Oh, and as for my current project? Coming up pretty soon, I'll reveal the working title and a brief teaser synopsis/blurb.

TEAMING UP

So, I shall be teaming up to work with another writer on an uber-secret project. Aside from class assignments/exercises, I have never co-written a fictional piece with another author. Usually I hesitate at the idea of co-writing (Like how do the writers come up with a unified voice through the story? Who writes what? Etc, etc), but the person I shall be working with is talented beyond comprehension and I've wanted to work with this particular writer for a long time, so I agreed immediately. Since the entertainment realm is a collaborative world -- or supposed to be, at least -- this project should give the both of us great experiences to draw from.

Right now we're in the process of brainstorming. I'll update with what I can when I can, but just keep in mind I'll have to be vague until it's done so as not to spoil the surprise.

I'm definitely excited about it, which is something I can absolutely reveal!

A Scary Thought

A few months ago, I peered over the cliff-edge of the afterlife... and was weirded out.

I should back track. One morning I awoke in dire straits, either as a reaction to something I ate or drank, or some super-fast-hitting-super-duper-virus I'd never heard of before. I awoke to delights like projectile vomiting, intense head and stomach pain, nausea, and hallucinations. Whenever I'd try to drink fluids or take medicine, I'd immediately throw them back up within 60 seconds of the attempt. Eventually I collapsed on my bed and hoped for the best, shadows darting across my vision, feeling my body fade.

The shadows focused into images. First I saw ribbons. Red. They slid out of a human hand, like a magic trick, spiraling into space as if pulled by an underwater current. The ribbons became the size of highways, stretching farther than I could gauge, and then blurred out of focus. Slowly, in that sludgy dream way, my gaze fell to the ground. Sickening, fleshy crunching noises followed every footstep that I heard nearing behind me.

Not seeing the body, but only the legs, I noticed that, to my horror, instead of human feet two wrinkled chicken heads were attached to the bottom of stick-like legs. The chicken heads cawed as bloody sores appeared on the top of their scalps (or the bottom of who or whatever's feet) from the journey. Like the ribbons, the legs receded into the distance.

I raised my head again, in time to sense, rather than directly see, a large face floating towards me from the darkness. To this day, I cannot recall what the face looked like, or even if it were really there at all, because by then my body started regaining control and a few hours later I was okay enough to drink water and recuperate somewhat.

My first thought was, "Man, if that was death, then it's no wonder why ghosts do all sorts of random, fucked-up stuff like levitating chairs and flailing around abandoned houses. They're probably all tripping out from these things!"

My second thought was concerning the hollow, scooped out feeling in my head. Where I usually "see" stories, felt like a dull, dead glob. This freaked me out even more. Had I lost the ability to make up stories? My previous script had involved a character who's occupation, memories, and even thoughts were taken from him. Had the same happened to me?

Eventually, after a few days and a little practice, I was able to return to normal. The few days it took to recover, though, I worried the whole time about not being able to write anymore. Were my concerns legitimate or paranoid, do you think?

To me, this was much scarier than the freaky hallucinations and death mirages. Losing the ability to write stories was terrifying for me. I've had a lot of people ask me why on Earth I'd want to pursue screenwriting and novel writing.

The answer is simple: because the thought of not doing those things is frightening to me.

Contest

I recently had the pleasure of entering in an American Screenwriting Competition, and managed to place in the Semi-Finals (top 2%) for my most recent screenplay Death's Horizon (pretentious title, I know. I'm thinking of changing it - maybe to Pill Puppets, or just simply Shotgun). The competition experience has tremendously exciting, and my thanks go out to Flat Shoe Entertainment for hosting it, and my best wishes the talented and amazing writers I had the honor of competing with.

Link to Flat Shoe here: http://www.flatshoe.com/

My appearance on the Semi-Finals can be found here:
http://www.flatshoe.com/semis_2008.html

Screenplay competitions can be an excellent opportunity to get your name and work out there. If submitting your stories to agencies and studios isn't working out, many top-tier people in the industry keep tabs on these competitions, so there could be a chance that one of these agencies or studios start coming to YOU, instead of the other way around.

Welcome.

Hi there.

This is an online journal where I shall be writing mostly about, well, writing. I'll write about the methods I use and the mistakes I make along the way. I'll reflect on past projects, document about current works, and give hints and maybe sneak previews about upcoming ideas. I'll write about who and what inspires me in the entertainment realm, whether it be authors, short stories, scripts, movies, prominent entertainers, etc. I'm sure other things will sneak their way in here along the way, but it is not my intention to dwell endlessly on personal and private matters. I will do my best, however, to update it often and hopefully keep readers entertained in the process.

At the time of this entry I am neither published, famous, or wealthy in any way. It is my wish that this journal serve as a record of my journey toward oblivion, success, or that strange place between the two. Hopefully, as I submit more entries, other aspiring writers and artists can learn from my blunders and, on the rare occasion, accomplishments.

I have to thank fellow screenwriter-friend Angie for inspiring me to do this when she asked me whether I begin developing stories around characters or situational events first. The idea for this journal germinated from there and I may even talk about that specific question sometime.

If this kinda thing is YOUR kinda thing, here are two other awesome blogs that I read regularly and hope to reach even a fraction of their awesomeness.

Neil Gaiman's Journal: http://journal.neilgaiman.com/
-One of the most talented and versatile writers alive, this journal is an amusing and enlightening peek into his mind. If you haven't read American Gods yet, do so immediately. Creds to my cuz Brian for telling me of this journal's existence.

John August's Journal: http://johnaugust.com/
-Fascinating, useful information on screenwriting, writing in general, and almost anything else you can think of. Sheer awesomeness.