I'm finding I'm a lot like other writers. We're all alike and we're all different. We all go through similar trials and tribulations but we all handle them differently and we all work differently. I don't need to be "inspired" in the moment to work on a certain project. I always want to work, whether it's writing or anything else I happen to have my hands in at the moment. I find a groove and fall in, completely getting sucked into whatever it is I'm doing. One of the downsides, of course, is I tend to shut everything else out; household responsibilities and what have you.
I've never had writer's block but my biggest combatant is interruption. It's terrible to be in that groove, getting tons of work done, and then get interrupted; it throws me off and it's really hard to find that groove or headspace again. If I'm struck with, what I feel, is an important idea and I'm not at a place where I can type it up on a computer or write it out on paper, I text it to myself. I have pages and pages of texts to myself that are just ideas. I even write out stories piece by piece via text; as I'd mentioned before of the story "Dream of Me" (which will be posted sometime soon) it was written entirely in texts to myself. It probably seems silly but it's helped me quite a bit. My wife says I get a bit of Jack Torrance going on when I'm in this 'groove' of mine as I get a bit irritable when I'm pulled away from it or simply interrupted.
Those moments of inspiration hit; the same to me as being hit with a big idea or even an idea that may not seem big to anyone else but it's exciting to me. They hit and everything tunes out and my mind just stays focused on that. I end up working out most of it in my head from thought to thought. Whatever I'm watching or listening to at the time fades out into background noise as my mind goes from 'Well, what if...?' to 'And then this would happen...' to 'If I'd add this kind of character early on then it could wrap around with...' and so forth and so forth. Again, all writers and artists are different in the way they work. Some need to be inspired to actually work, some just need to be left alone; I tend to fall in the latter.
People are inspired by different things. Inspiration can come from anywhere; a dream, an experience, another piece of art, another artist, other people, etc etc etc. I tend to get mine a lot from cross-mediums in that, though I'm a writer, I can be playing a video game and something will hit me and I'll think 'I like this little thing this game does here, I wonder if I could...' and then come up with a comic book or a short story or an idea for a book or a series. I rarely read a book and think 'I wanna write something like this.' It usually hits when I'm enjoying something that really doesn't have much to do with what I actually do. I'll be watching a movie and the visuals will be just gorgeous and I'll think 'Wow, I wonder if I could write something that beautiful, something that could capture the imagination or paint a picture like what I'm watching.'
A lot of times I end up inspired by something that's very tiny and not much to do with the story or what's going on at all. I'll bring it up to my wife or friends and present it to them, "Okay, you know that little part right there? I'd like to do something like that only like this and have it be the story and not just some background bit." And it's usually met with, "It's a 10 second bit at that and it doesn't really mean anything." It might not mean anything to most viewers or the characters in the film I'd watched but it strikes me and, inspired by that tiny nugget, I think on it like a seed that I water. Usually when I read, I turn off my writer hat and just enjoy the book, comic, or whatnot so it's usually when I'm watching a movie or even listening to music when it hits. You can listen to the radio even and something will be said or just the way the music will be that makes you see a certain image in your head and, then, the next thing you know there's an idea. Sports are the same way; it's very easy to be watching a game of any sport really and come up with a story or characters. You can people watch and come up with a story. Your neighbors are taking out their trash at an odd time of night and you think simply 'What's in there?' Your mind runs through all the possibilities and the next thing you know you have a story.
There's a lot of simple things in life that can bring about incredible inspiration; it kind of makes one wonder how many are ignored and passed off as 'just another thing'.
But I'm curious to know:
Are you the type that needs the inspirational spark or do you just need time?
How do you guys find inspiration?
And what do you find inspiration in?
Saturday, May 7, 2016
Thursday, May 5, 2016
The Road to Capacitance
So the publisher I'm currently working with, Supposed Crimes, does primarily Gay Lit and have other branches for other, such as Acquitted Books which published the poetry book. I turned out to be their first poet, though I didn't know this at the time. After I was contacted, I looked and thought it over and said yes, signing up with my first publisher. The owner of the company and myself email a bunch and pretty early on I saw that we had a connection on art and saw things very much the same.
I checked out the website and they look to have some really cool books. They had/have anthology submissions. Two anthologies that they were taking submissions for were a vampire book called "Canines" and a sexual tension book called "Almost". I looked over their similar requirements and thought them over. There was to be a specific minimum on the word count, the lead had to be gay, and Canines had to deal with vampires while Almost had to deal with sexual tension but no sex, just the want and urge.
I had the very beginning of an old story that was to eventually BE a vampire story and finished it, changing the male lead to a female creating a lesbian vampire short story. It's pretty short, 4-5 pages. I won't know if it'll be accepted for the anthology for months as its release date won't be until September, but here's to hoping. I enjoyed the story and it was written differently than originally thought of but better. These kinds of submissions with guidelines are great writing practice/training grounds.
The other story for "Almost" was going to be harder. I'd never written a sexual tension story before and my history of writing romance is pretty close to zero. As a straight man, it's easier for me to write lesbian characters than gay male characters. With that said/thought, I wanted to challenge myself and write the story about two men. Actually, you'd be amazed how easy it is to write for the opposite sexual orientation as the laws of attraction are the same across the board. That was One challenge of the story, then another; I had to do something closer to my field as, again, I'm not used to this kind of story. I can read and watch these kinds of stories but writing them, for me, was a whole new thing. I decided to make it a ghost story, which, by the way, I've rarely written. So this story alone was great training on three levels for me, 1. working with gay male leads, 2. a sexual tension/romantic situation, and 3. a ghost story, which I'm not used to writing and, in all honesty, I rarely even care for (it's not my kind of horror). So I wrote it in texts to myself and told the story in first person. Had no clue what to call it until I got to the end and the story told ME what it would be called, "Dream of Me". The story was liked and accepted but then bad news came; there weren't enough stories to get the book filled and so it was cancelled. I may put it on here at some point. I like it and it helped my writing. Tip: sometimes it helps to get out of your comfort zone.
Beyond the anthology submissions there was a novel submission. Now, as I've kinda said before, I'm not really a novelist and this whole book thing was a surprise to me. However, with that said, I was curious. The submission was for "Science Fiction as Hard as Ice". The guidelines were a certain word count, the lead has to be gay, and having to do with hard science fiction. Hard science fiction, for those that don't know, is more science driven and less fantastical. Think more 2001: A Space Odyssey and less Star Wars. I love Hard Sci-Fi but the thought of attempting to write it was scary to me. While I love sci-fi very much I honestly haven't written it much, let alone this particular subgenre. I thought, "Okay, I want to write this book. I can show them I can write more than poetry and this could help my writing grow." Followed by the thought, "I just don't think I'm smart enough for Hard Science Fiction, though I don't want to show that. I'm going to have to weave and fake my way through this." I didn't want to skip out on the opportunity because I was self-conscious and definitely didn't want to tell them that I wasn't smart enough or good enough to do it so I'd stick to something 'easier' and 'more my speed'. Sometimes the only way to learn is to jump in and do it. I thought about a lot of the hard sci-fi films that I love so much and thought of how they told their stories. I noticed that in those worlds, everything wasn't flashy but quite lived in as if these extraordinary things were part of everyday life. In those worlds everything seems very dry and not full of heart-pounding adventures on a physical level but on a mental level; as if it's the mere IDEA of these things are the draw and not so much the action caused by said idea.
I ran through idea possibilities in my head like a rolodex. I thought, 'What do I know about that could work in this type of story?' And what I came up with was Medical. My father worked in hospitals for over 20 years but more to my help, I'm in and out of hospitals all the time. I see my doctors more than I see my friends and family. I didn't want it to be on Earth so I chose space (of course). A medical, space travel story. The title is "Last Rites of the Capacitance". Mind you, all of these submissions for them was BEFORE my book was released; in between being signed and released. I thought of my format and hunkered down to write it. I always have projects on the table, a lot of pots on the stove, but I was very committed to do this book for various reasons including growth. I got the first draft done and sent to them before my poetry book was released.
Now, let me go back a minute. While writing it, I kept coming up with ideas that I thought were cool but I didn't think they'd be accepted because they didn't really seem to fit the "hard sci-fi" mold. They weren't fantastical ideas but they were certainly pushing it in a slightly more horror/sci-fi direction. So all those ideas were sidelined but, as I've mentioned on here before, ideas are rarely forgotten in this head. I got my notes back and were far more extensive than expected. It wasn't hurtful to see the changes needed or suggested to be made. Again, I need to grow as a writer. But there was something very interesting in these notes. I said up at the top ^^ that my publisher, Christy Case, and myself have a chemistry. I'd say %90 to %95 of the notes were suggesting the VERY ideas that I discarded. I was flabbergasted. I emailed back immediately with all kinds of "I swear to you, I'm not lying, A,B,C, & D were going to be in there!" lol It's funny how things work out. The other notes struck me at first but then I read the reasoning and it all made sense. Note: There's a difference between constructive criticism and just critiquing or putting something down without reason; i.e. if you're going to say "no" or "that doesn't work", offer a reason and perhaps a solution. One of the notes, another idea I'd discarded, changes the format of the book almost entirely, which will be where most of the work on the rewrites will come in.
Since getting the copy of the book back with all the notes, I ended up getting hit with other projects. Before getting the notes I started on a horror anthology (now being looked over by Supposed Crimes) in hopes to be their first horror writer as I was with their poetry. My wife and I were planning on co-writing a different horror anthology but it wasn't supposed to happen for some time. Once my personal copies of Gun Control for Polar Bears arrived at the house, something in my wife clicked and she was very adamant about us doing our book NOW; something I wasn't really expecting and wasn't on my schedule for some time.
The plan was for the book to be sent to Supposed Crimes. Part way into writing the book my wife and co-writer revealed that she didn't want to go with them; she wanted it to be bigger and go farther than an indie company. Since this was going against the original plan and what I'd been already talking to my publisher about, I decided to finish work on the solo anthology of mine, "Sharp Items & Bad Intentions" and send that in. I finished mine and sent it in and the co-written book was finished not too long after (both completed in April). With My book now being looked over, I'm currently reading the co-written book which my wife has edited. Upon doing my own edit, I was stopped and told that she likes everything the way it is lol. Keep that in mind when you co-write, folks. So at the moment, I'm currently reading it and won't be editing it. She's discussing self-publishing. All I can really say is whatever is going to happen with it will happen.
With two horror books down this year I'm very excited to get back to Last Rites of the Capacitance. It's really cool and different and unlike other things I've written. Since the first draft being done, I've thought of other sci-fi ideas for the company; one I shared with them and they liked.
After telling a friend about these "gay lit" based stories, they asked me something to that of "I dunno, you think it might be kind of embarrassing though? I mean, you're straight, and you're going to be writing gay stories." As if I were getting my foot in the door as an actor by doing gay porn. There's nothing wrong or embarrassing writing Gay Lit as a straight writer. For starters, it's not all I write. I also pointed out the fact that these stories don't have to do with being gay as they're just stories that happen to have gay characters. I noted the wonderful horror film High Tension; one of my favorite horror films. In essence it's a lesbian horror film. My friend didn't think about it like that; just saw it as a good horror film. It's a fantastic creepy movie that just happens to have a lesbian character as a lead but it's not pushy, doesn't shove a lifestyle in your face. I ended with telling them that those specific stories/books I write for Supposed Crimes, I push for them to be like that: great stories that happen to have gay characters as opposed to GAY CHARACTER (story in the background).
So there it is, the road to Capacitance. I will be getting back to my rewrites this week and I hope it won't take long to do - I like to work fast. I'm excited for the changes and where it'll take me. Between the first and upcoming draft I already feel I've grown, having worked on several projects in between (not just the two anthologies). Last Rites of the Capacitance will be my first sci-fi book and while I was nervous about it, it let me know that I can do it and I'm excited to get it out and work on more in the genre.
Again, I may post the "Dream of Me" short story at some point.
I checked out the website and they look to have some really cool books. They had/have anthology submissions. Two anthologies that they were taking submissions for were a vampire book called "Canines" and a sexual tension book called "Almost". I looked over their similar requirements and thought them over. There was to be a specific minimum on the word count, the lead had to be gay, and Canines had to deal with vampires while Almost had to deal with sexual tension but no sex, just the want and urge.
I had the very beginning of an old story that was to eventually BE a vampire story and finished it, changing the male lead to a female creating a lesbian vampire short story. It's pretty short, 4-5 pages. I won't know if it'll be accepted for the anthology for months as its release date won't be until September, but here's to hoping. I enjoyed the story and it was written differently than originally thought of but better. These kinds of submissions with guidelines are great writing practice/training grounds.
The other story for "Almost" was going to be harder. I'd never written a sexual tension story before and my history of writing romance is pretty close to zero. As a straight man, it's easier for me to write lesbian characters than gay male characters. With that said/thought, I wanted to challenge myself and write the story about two men. Actually, you'd be amazed how easy it is to write for the opposite sexual orientation as the laws of attraction are the same across the board. That was One challenge of the story, then another; I had to do something closer to my field as, again, I'm not used to this kind of story. I can read and watch these kinds of stories but writing them, for me, was a whole new thing. I decided to make it a ghost story, which, by the way, I've rarely written. So this story alone was great training on three levels for me, 1. working with gay male leads, 2. a sexual tension/romantic situation, and 3. a ghost story, which I'm not used to writing and, in all honesty, I rarely even care for (it's not my kind of horror). So I wrote it in texts to myself and told the story in first person. Had no clue what to call it until I got to the end and the story told ME what it would be called, "Dream of Me". The story was liked and accepted but then bad news came; there weren't enough stories to get the book filled and so it was cancelled. I may put it on here at some point. I like it and it helped my writing. Tip: sometimes it helps to get out of your comfort zone.
Beyond the anthology submissions there was a novel submission. Now, as I've kinda said before, I'm not really a novelist and this whole book thing was a surprise to me. However, with that said, I was curious. The submission was for "Science Fiction as Hard as Ice". The guidelines were a certain word count, the lead has to be gay, and having to do with hard science fiction. Hard science fiction, for those that don't know, is more science driven and less fantastical. Think more 2001: A Space Odyssey and less Star Wars. I love Hard Sci-Fi but the thought of attempting to write it was scary to me. While I love sci-fi very much I honestly haven't written it much, let alone this particular subgenre. I thought, "Okay, I want to write this book. I can show them I can write more than poetry and this could help my writing grow." Followed by the thought, "I just don't think I'm smart enough for Hard Science Fiction, though I don't want to show that. I'm going to have to weave and fake my way through this." I didn't want to skip out on the opportunity because I was self-conscious and definitely didn't want to tell them that I wasn't smart enough or good enough to do it so I'd stick to something 'easier' and 'more my speed'. Sometimes the only way to learn is to jump in and do it. I thought about a lot of the hard sci-fi films that I love so much and thought of how they told their stories. I noticed that in those worlds, everything wasn't flashy but quite lived in as if these extraordinary things were part of everyday life. In those worlds everything seems very dry and not full of heart-pounding adventures on a physical level but on a mental level; as if it's the mere IDEA of these things are the draw and not so much the action caused by said idea.
I ran through idea possibilities in my head like a rolodex. I thought, 'What do I know about that could work in this type of story?' And what I came up with was Medical. My father worked in hospitals for over 20 years but more to my help, I'm in and out of hospitals all the time. I see my doctors more than I see my friends and family. I didn't want it to be on Earth so I chose space (of course). A medical, space travel story. The title is "Last Rites of the Capacitance". Mind you, all of these submissions for them was BEFORE my book was released; in between being signed and released. I thought of my format and hunkered down to write it. I always have projects on the table, a lot of pots on the stove, but I was very committed to do this book for various reasons including growth. I got the first draft done and sent to them before my poetry book was released.
Now, let me go back a minute. While writing it, I kept coming up with ideas that I thought were cool but I didn't think they'd be accepted because they didn't really seem to fit the "hard sci-fi" mold. They weren't fantastical ideas but they were certainly pushing it in a slightly more horror/sci-fi direction. So all those ideas were sidelined but, as I've mentioned on here before, ideas are rarely forgotten in this head. I got my notes back and were far more extensive than expected. It wasn't hurtful to see the changes needed or suggested to be made. Again, I need to grow as a writer. But there was something very interesting in these notes. I said up at the top ^^ that my publisher, Christy Case, and myself have a chemistry. I'd say %90 to %95 of the notes were suggesting the VERY ideas that I discarded. I was flabbergasted. I emailed back immediately with all kinds of "I swear to you, I'm not lying, A,B,C, & D were going to be in there!" lol It's funny how things work out. The other notes struck me at first but then I read the reasoning and it all made sense. Note: There's a difference between constructive criticism and just critiquing or putting something down without reason; i.e. if you're going to say "no" or "that doesn't work", offer a reason and perhaps a solution. One of the notes, another idea I'd discarded, changes the format of the book almost entirely, which will be where most of the work on the rewrites will come in.
Since getting the copy of the book back with all the notes, I ended up getting hit with other projects. Before getting the notes I started on a horror anthology (now being looked over by Supposed Crimes) in hopes to be their first horror writer as I was with their poetry. My wife and I were planning on co-writing a different horror anthology but it wasn't supposed to happen for some time. Once my personal copies of Gun Control for Polar Bears arrived at the house, something in my wife clicked and she was very adamant about us doing our book NOW; something I wasn't really expecting and wasn't on my schedule for some time.
The plan was for the book to be sent to Supposed Crimes. Part way into writing the book my wife and co-writer revealed that she didn't want to go with them; she wanted it to be bigger and go farther than an indie company. Since this was going against the original plan and what I'd been already talking to my publisher about, I decided to finish work on the solo anthology of mine, "Sharp Items & Bad Intentions" and send that in. I finished mine and sent it in and the co-written book was finished not too long after (both completed in April). With My book now being looked over, I'm currently reading the co-written book which my wife has edited. Upon doing my own edit, I was stopped and told that she likes everything the way it is lol. Keep that in mind when you co-write, folks. So at the moment, I'm currently reading it and won't be editing it. She's discussing self-publishing. All I can really say is whatever is going to happen with it will happen.
With two horror books down this year I'm very excited to get back to Last Rites of the Capacitance. It's really cool and different and unlike other things I've written. Since the first draft being done, I've thought of other sci-fi ideas for the company; one I shared with them and they liked.
After telling a friend about these "gay lit" based stories, they asked me something to that of "I dunno, you think it might be kind of embarrassing though? I mean, you're straight, and you're going to be writing gay stories." As if I were getting my foot in the door as an actor by doing gay porn. There's nothing wrong or embarrassing writing Gay Lit as a straight writer. For starters, it's not all I write. I also pointed out the fact that these stories don't have to do with being gay as they're just stories that happen to have gay characters. I noted the wonderful horror film High Tension; one of my favorite horror films. In essence it's a lesbian horror film. My friend didn't think about it like that; just saw it as a good horror film. It's a fantastic creepy movie that just happens to have a lesbian character as a lead but it's not pushy, doesn't shove a lifestyle in your face. I ended with telling them that those specific stories/books I write for Supposed Crimes, I push for them to be like that: great stories that happen to have gay characters as opposed to GAY CHARACTER (story in the background).
So there it is, the road to Capacitance. I will be getting back to my rewrites this week and I hope it won't take long to do - I like to work fast. I'm excited for the changes and where it'll take me. Between the first and upcoming draft I already feel I've grown, having worked on several projects in between (not just the two anthologies). Last Rites of the Capacitance will be my first sci-fi book and while I was nervous about it, it let me know that I can do it and I'm excited to get it out and work on more in the genre.
Again, I may post the "Dream of Me" short story at some point.
Kinda funny story
So you guys remember when there was a little piece about me in the Macon, Mo, newspaper? If not, it's easily found somewhere on here.
Anyway, due to working for an indie company AND it being such a niche thing as poetry, I'm having to do a lot of self promotion, as you can tell by the constant posting about it. Well just before its release I emailed a ton of poetry sites, libraries, and newspapers. Of all of them I got an email back from a lady at the aforementioned paper. She said she wanted to do a personal piece on me and not just plug the book. I mulled it over before finally saying "Yes". I got another email from her asking "Is it true you're only 8 years old?" As you could imagine, I was quite confused. I had emailed back explaining there must be a mistake and that I was 31. I went back through the emails and the links I had sent and I found the mix-up. The poem that's on the back of the book, for those of you who bought it, and the poem that's used as the snippet/preview for the book is No. 8 in the book. A complaint I've heard from my father more than once (along with a couple of others) is that the poems in Gun Control for Polar Bears aren't titled but numbered. No. 8 is the preview and so it's on all the sites where the book is sold. I found this and realized what they'd done/thought and emailed her back pointing this out. She said that "My boss said that you were only 8 years old and for me to interview you." Apparently her boss saw my name and the number 8 and just went with it. We laughed through emails and cleared up the situation. I thought that was it and the interview would then be off; a little less impressive for a grown man to write a book than a child. However, she continued to ask when and where to do the interview. I had her come to my house and we'd just talk in my office.
She came over and it turned out she'd been here before; a friend of the people who'd lived here before my wife and I. We talked for about 45 minutes and she rarely took a note. I got the feeling she was expecting/hoping for me to be a brooding artist/writer type as she seemed a little caught off guard when I was laid back and very jokey with her. My thing is - I write so much darkness, I don't need to be that guy. I'd rather write about despicable people doing despicable things and then go bowling and have a drink with you lol. For the 45 minutes she was here we laughed and joked and talked about writing and my growing up (leaving out any drama and my illness). When the paper came out I saw the article and was a bit stunned. As a personal thing I was like "She didn't put my full name" - something I have to use because of all the Chris and Christopher Carters out there (though most people know me by Chris). But I was more stunned about the fact that it was so dry and serious. It reminded me of a story told on An Evening With Kevin Smith where he and a reporter friend of his were joking around and the piece came out very serious, to Smith's surprise. I felt the same way, "Where's the jokey-laughter-light feeling that was throughout the interview?" My family was so happy and thrilled that I was getting recognition and was in the paper and, while I'm happy, I was taken back because of this. It was very obvious she wanted a serious piece regardless of my personality. I read the article like "Where's this? Where's that?" I talked to my friend Haley and she was understanding and was like "Yeah, it's just how it works."
My first interview and my first taste of how things work in press. Might not seem that funny to you guys but it was hilarious to me. I emailed trying to pimp my book and was mistaken for an 8 year old and then laughed and had a good time only to see a serious, cut and dry article. I'm still happy it was made despite all this but it let me know what I'm in for later.
Anyway, due to working for an indie company AND it being such a niche thing as poetry, I'm having to do a lot of self promotion, as you can tell by the constant posting about it. Well just before its release I emailed a ton of poetry sites, libraries, and newspapers. Of all of them I got an email back from a lady at the aforementioned paper. She said she wanted to do a personal piece on me and not just plug the book. I mulled it over before finally saying "Yes". I got another email from her asking "Is it true you're only 8 years old?" As you could imagine, I was quite confused. I had emailed back explaining there must be a mistake and that I was 31. I went back through the emails and the links I had sent and I found the mix-up. The poem that's on the back of the book, for those of you who bought it, and the poem that's used as the snippet/preview for the book is No. 8 in the book. A complaint I've heard from my father more than once (along with a couple of others) is that the poems in Gun Control for Polar Bears aren't titled but numbered. No. 8 is the preview and so it's on all the sites where the book is sold. I found this and realized what they'd done/thought and emailed her back pointing this out. She said that "My boss said that you were only 8 years old and for me to interview you." Apparently her boss saw my name and the number 8 and just went with it. We laughed through emails and cleared up the situation. I thought that was it and the interview would then be off; a little less impressive for a grown man to write a book than a child. However, she continued to ask when and where to do the interview. I had her come to my house and we'd just talk in my office.
She came over and it turned out she'd been here before; a friend of the people who'd lived here before my wife and I. We talked for about 45 minutes and she rarely took a note. I got the feeling she was expecting/hoping for me to be a brooding artist/writer type as she seemed a little caught off guard when I was laid back and very jokey with her. My thing is - I write so much darkness, I don't need to be that guy. I'd rather write about despicable people doing despicable things and then go bowling and have a drink with you lol. For the 45 minutes she was here we laughed and joked and talked about writing and my growing up (leaving out any drama and my illness). When the paper came out I saw the article and was a bit stunned. As a personal thing I was like "She didn't put my full name" - something I have to use because of all the Chris and Christopher Carters out there (though most people know me by Chris). But I was more stunned about the fact that it was so dry and serious. It reminded me of a story told on An Evening With Kevin Smith where he and a reporter friend of his were joking around and the piece came out very serious, to Smith's surprise. I felt the same way, "Where's the jokey-laughter-light feeling that was throughout the interview?" My family was so happy and thrilled that I was getting recognition and was in the paper and, while I'm happy, I was taken back because of this. It was very obvious she wanted a serious piece regardless of my personality. I read the article like "Where's this? Where's that?" I talked to my friend Haley and she was understanding and was like "Yeah, it's just how it works."
My first interview and my first taste of how things work in press. Might not seem that funny to you guys but it was hilarious to me. I emailed trying to pimp my book and was mistaken for an 8 year old and then laughed and had a good time only to see a serious, cut and dry article. I'm still happy it was made despite all this but it let me know what I'm in for later.
Wednesday, May 4, 2016
Rejection
As I've stated on here before, I'm no stranger to rejection. If the submission isn't altogether ignored it's usually met with "No", "Not for us", "We don't do things like this", etc etc. But I saved two of them I thought were interesting; well, one was interesting to ME and the other I found hilarious. Side-note: While going through my email to find them to post on here I found others that were comic script submissions that said "Good story, but we don't match up artists with writers" - something I've gotten a lot.
So, some years ago some friends of mine lost their little boy (about 3/4 yr old) to sudden illness. Afterwards, my friend and his mother (the boy's grandmother) would have these religious arguments as to why the boy had to die. I wrote a very small story/piece called "The Child & God". With it's size being so short and small I really had nowhere it could go and had thought it would be great as a magazine story. I emailed and submitted it to almost every religious magazine I could find. It was mostly ignored and met with a few "Not for us", BUT I did get THIS response from one:
-
Chris
Thank you for the piece – but you don’t say who you are or why you chose to send it to me. Was it because I am editor of The Square?
If so, it is probably not likely to be used by us but of course you bring home the illogicality of much religious thinking. I don’t know what you do, or your background, but many have sought to explain these illogicalities with deists. Atheists, latitudinarians, pantheists etc etc. All, at some point, hit their own wall of illogicality. Are you a freemason? I only ask because you sent the copy to a masonic magazine. For our part we skirt the illogicality by requiring a belief in some force or order behind the universe (call it God for convenience) but accept all interpretations of this and do not require you to qualify what your definition might be. For you, God may be the laws of physics – but that doesn’t explain how and why it all started either ………..
What your paper actually says is that human existence is fragile, unfair and unpredictable. Some would argue that these are the very causes of our human development and are thus essential in the grander scheme of things – whatever that might be. Small comfort, of course, if it is your child who is lost.
-
Now, it was TOTALLY my fault that I didn't pay much attention to whom I was sending it to; they were simply on the list of contacts I had found matching my search. When I had started finally sending things out it was in the most random and haphazard way, then again, that's how I found Supposed Crimes who published my first book. So there's pros and cons to ignorance in submitting. The reason why this struck me so interesting is the word count in this email alone was probably long than the piece I wrote. It's also been the only time any of my work has ever really been picked apart and dissected thoroughly like this. I've had questions about the poetry book (Largely being "Where did the title come from?") but nothing like this. So I thought this was pretty interesting when it could've been a simple "Not really for us as we don't do this kinda thing" and instead actually read it and read INTO it. I'm still, to this day, used to people reading my work and not really putting too much thought into it.
Now for a totally different rejection: I wrote what I would consider a "domestic horror story" about a wealthy stepfather who threatens his stepdaughter that if she doesn't give in to his sexual demands then he's cutting her off. This kind of story has been done plenty of times but as a writer you'll find times when you think "You know I've never gotten to do my version of one of (fill in the blank) kind of stories." That's what I did with the story called "The Cut Off". Now it's going into a horror anthology I'll probably be pushing to get out next year once it's completed. However, at the time, I had nowhere to put it so I sent it to publishers, online publishers, magazines, etc. Most of these publishers, mind you, claim to be looking for edgy young writers. The Cut Off is about 11 pages long and, as I said a "domestic horror story" of revenge and etc. So I sent it out and usually was met with the No's and Not for us, etc. But this...this email was special. It didn't hurt, but made me laugh out loud and call a friend up and we laughed together. My friend said, "Dude, save that!" Here it is,
-
This is so utterly ridiculous, offensive, and poorly written I can't believe you'd possibly consider it a worthy submission.
Do not, under any circumstances, email me again.
-
I've thought about sending them a copy of the anthology when it's released.
Along with story submissions I've sent out numerous comic book scripts. I know most places don't want JUST scripts but I was advised "Just send stuff anyway. If they say 'no', nothing changes." And it's a good rule to live by when submitting your work - if it's declined, you're in the same place you were before sending it. I will say, something I've found interesting among the comic book industry is, much like literary publishers, they claim to want something new, original, and edgy and when I'd send a script matching such criteria, I was emailed back with lines such as "Interesting but we're looking for something more along the lines of Justice League."
Stuff to keep in mind when you're sending your work out.
So, some years ago some friends of mine lost their little boy (about 3/4 yr old) to sudden illness. Afterwards, my friend and his mother (the boy's grandmother) would have these religious arguments as to why the boy had to die. I wrote a very small story/piece called "The Child & God". With it's size being so short and small I really had nowhere it could go and had thought it would be great as a magazine story. I emailed and submitted it to almost every religious magazine I could find. It was mostly ignored and met with a few "Not for us", BUT I did get THIS response from one:
-
Chris
Thank you for the piece – but you don’t say who you are or why you chose to send it to me. Was it because I am editor of The Square?
If so, it is probably not likely to be used by us but of course you bring home the illogicality of much religious thinking. I don’t know what you do, or your background, but many have sought to explain these illogicalities with deists. Atheists, latitudinarians, pantheists etc etc. All, at some point, hit their own wall of illogicality. Are you a freemason? I only ask because you sent the copy to a masonic magazine. For our part we skirt the illogicality by requiring a belief in some force or order behind the universe (call it God for convenience) but accept all interpretations of this and do not require you to qualify what your definition might be. For you, God may be the laws of physics – but that doesn’t explain how and why it all started either ………..
What your paper actually says is that human existence is fragile, unfair and unpredictable. Some would argue that these are the very causes of our human development and are thus essential in the grander scheme of things – whatever that might be. Small comfort, of course, if it is your child who is lost.
-
Now, it was TOTALLY my fault that I didn't pay much attention to whom I was sending it to; they were simply on the list of contacts I had found matching my search. When I had started finally sending things out it was in the most random and haphazard way, then again, that's how I found Supposed Crimes who published my first book. So there's pros and cons to ignorance in submitting. The reason why this struck me so interesting is the word count in this email alone was probably long than the piece I wrote. It's also been the only time any of my work has ever really been picked apart and dissected thoroughly like this. I've had questions about the poetry book (Largely being "Where did the title come from?") but nothing like this. So I thought this was pretty interesting when it could've been a simple "Not really for us as we don't do this kinda thing" and instead actually read it and read INTO it. I'm still, to this day, used to people reading my work and not really putting too much thought into it.
Now for a totally different rejection: I wrote what I would consider a "domestic horror story" about a wealthy stepfather who threatens his stepdaughter that if she doesn't give in to his sexual demands then he's cutting her off. This kind of story has been done plenty of times but as a writer you'll find times when you think "You know I've never gotten to do my version of one of (fill in the blank) kind of stories." That's what I did with the story called "The Cut Off". Now it's going into a horror anthology I'll probably be pushing to get out next year once it's completed. However, at the time, I had nowhere to put it so I sent it to publishers, online publishers, magazines, etc. Most of these publishers, mind you, claim to be looking for edgy young writers. The Cut Off is about 11 pages long and, as I said a "domestic horror story" of revenge and etc. So I sent it out and usually was met with the No's and Not for us, etc. But this...this email was special. It didn't hurt, but made me laugh out loud and call a friend up and we laughed together. My friend said, "Dude, save that!" Here it is,
-
This is so utterly ridiculous, offensive, and poorly written I can't believe you'd possibly consider it a worthy submission.
Do not, under any circumstances, email me again.
-
I've thought about sending them a copy of the anthology when it's released.
Along with story submissions I've sent out numerous comic book scripts. I know most places don't want JUST scripts but I was advised "Just send stuff anyway. If they say 'no', nothing changes." And it's a good rule to live by when submitting your work - if it's declined, you're in the same place you were before sending it. I will say, something I've found interesting among the comic book industry is, much like literary publishers, they claim to want something new, original, and edgy and when I'd send a script matching such criteria, I was emailed back with lines such as "Interesting but we're looking for something more along the lines of Justice League."
Stuff to keep in mind when you're sending your work out.
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
Session - A Short Story
I wrote the beginning of this about 11 years ago and when I found it I finished it. Some stories seem really short (as this one is only 2 pages) and it's odd because, when writing, there's part of my brain that wants to fully pad it and flesh it out into something bigger but when it's all said and done, the story itself will dictate when it ends, whether it's a really short story or pushing novel size. Sometimes you hit a point when the story just tells you "THIS is the way to end it." If it's not "big enough" it can always go somewhere. This was originally for an anthology of mine that hasn't been completed yet. I have another story in the book that is around the same size and had to choose between the two as it's set to only have 13 stories and didn't want too many this short in it. So here's "Session", hope you like it...
Session
Thank you for seeing me, doctor. I suppose I should start…
I was nine when it first started; involuntary spasms plagued my right arm. The fingers would twitch and curl as I’d feel my tendons pull against my will. In my sleep my hand would grip the sheets. It would be the center of much trouble throughout the years.
June of ’78, I was ten years old. We were at my uncle’s farm. Every year my family and I would go visit and we’d stay the last week of June through the fourth of July. Well, upon arrival I was so excited to be there again, to see the animals, play and run about. I would run over to the chicken coop to see them and they would, of course, scatter… heh. My aunt had picked one up and asked if I wanted to hold it. So I’m holding it, petting it, when my hand snaps shut like a bear trap and a crushed chicken skull lives inside. My aunt is instantly startled. She was frantic with tears in her eyes as she tried to get it from me. I was crying. All I could think to say was that I’m sorry and I didn’t mean to but, since it was a fight to get it from my hands, she thought otherwise. The chicken’s body twitched, its feet kicked around, clawing me with its talons.
Hours later, after the animal had been retrieved from my grip, I was sitting in the laundry room with my mother as she was cleaning and bandaging my wounds. While we were in there we overheard my aunt and uncle. She, my aunt, was furious yet disturbed at the same time and was spouting off about us having to leave. He talked her into letting us stay, but she stayed away from me for the rest of that time there.
My parents took me to several doctors and found nothing. I’ve had cat scans, MRIs, reflex tests, shots, pills, and various other treatments only to find nothing wrong with me.
May of 1986, I was eighteen years old. We were all graduating, my class and I. I’d been without incident for some time. I’d feel it creep up on occasion only to back off. My hand clinched and crumbled my diploma but managed to hide its tattered appearance before anyone could see. That night a bunch of us had a graduation party and we were all drinking and having a good time. I went upstairs with a girl I’d been friends with for awhile. We had never done anything and I guess the liquid courage had brought us together. Upstairs in our friend’s bed we made out heavily. Our hands were all over each other, after years of unspoken sexual tension. My hands slipped up beneath her shirt and began caressing her breasts. Her nipples were erect and her skin was soft. She moaned at my every touch and I was deeply aroused; however, the moment of ecstasy came to a crashing halt when my right hand clinched close, snapping shut with her breast in my grip.
She screamed and I tried to release it but it only squeezed tighter. She cried in pain telling me how it was too much and to stop. She was swearing at me and when my hold wouldn’t loosen she began slapping me just to get me to stop; to get me off of her. I finally got my hand off of her and she clutched her chest in pain. She left the party in tears. I would later hear about how bad the bruising was and how long it lasted. I hear to this day it can still be sensitive to the touch. I tried to apologize but she was angry and repulsed by me. We never spoke again but we occasionally see each other in passing. She still turns the other way and we never speak.
I tried meditation, religion, acupuncture, natural remedies; I even saw a hypnotist and nothing ever seemed to cure me of this curious…ailment of mine.
Just five years ago, I was twenty-nine, married and with child. We had brought our daughter home to the lovely nursery that had been set up for awhile; pink and blue elephants and hippos all over the walls. It was adorable just like our bundle of joy. My wife had been tuckered out to say the least and needed a nap; to which I said to go ahead and I’d watch the baby. My wife passed out from exhaustion and I shut the door so she wouldn’t be disturbed. I played with my daughter looking at this angel we had made. She opened her eyes and I saw those beautiful crystal-like marbles staring at me. I would be the man I knew she’d grow to trust and love before all others.
I held her, I talked to her, I sang to her; I was over the moon…and that’s when it happened. The worst thing that could ever happen to anyone, let alone a new father, came to be and at my hand no less. I was holding my baby girl when my hand snapped shut breaking the baby’s fragile neck. Her life ended instantly not even ten hours after bringing her home. I was heartbroken, of course, but my wife was destroyed when she had woken up to my cries to see what I had done. I single handedly threw everything away. My wife left me and she, herself, went through years of therapy before finally committing suicide, overdosing on painkillers.
You see, doctor, when it happens I don’t really get any control at all; not even emotionally or mentally. It’s as if my hand has a mind of its own and when it takes over its mind takes mine over as well. I’m not exempt from the pain, either. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been urinating when my penis would end up in a painful death grip. Throughout my school years my fingers were constantly splintered by my hand breaking pencils at random. I needed someone to talk to about it and I was told you were the best and so I’m here.
…And, as you can tell by my hand around your throat and your eyes blacking out, that I have far from evaded my…affliction.
Time is up, doctor.
Thank you for seeing me, doctor. I suppose I should start…
I was nine when it first started; involuntary spasms plagued my right arm. The fingers would twitch and curl as I’d feel my tendons pull against my will. In my sleep my hand would grip the sheets. It would be the center of much trouble throughout the years.
June of ’78, I was ten years old. We were at my uncle’s farm. Every year my family and I would go visit and we’d stay the last week of June through the fourth of July. Well, upon arrival I was so excited to be there again, to see the animals, play and run about. I would run over to the chicken coop to see them and they would, of course, scatter… heh. My aunt had picked one up and asked if I wanted to hold it. So I’m holding it, petting it, when my hand snaps shut like a bear trap and a crushed chicken skull lives inside. My aunt is instantly startled. She was frantic with tears in her eyes as she tried to get it from me. I was crying. All I could think to say was that I’m sorry and I didn’t mean to but, since it was a fight to get it from my hands, she thought otherwise. The chicken’s body twitched, its feet kicked around, clawing me with its talons.
Hours later, after the animal had been retrieved from my grip, I was sitting in the laundry room with my mother as she was cleaning and bandaging my wounds. While we were in there we overheard my aunt and uncle. She, my aunt, was furious yet disturbed at the same time and was spouting off about us having to leave. He talked her into letting us stay, but she stayed away from me for the rest of that time there.
My parents took me to several doctors and found nothing. I’ve had cat scans, MRIs, reflex tests, shots, pills, and various other treatments only to find nothing wrong with me.
May of 1986, I was eighteen years old. We were all graduating, my class and I. I’d been without incident for some time. I’d feel it creep up on occasion only to back off. My hand clinched and crumbled my diploma but managed to hide its tattered appearance before anyone could see. That night a bunch of us had a graduation party and we were all drinking and having a good time. I went upstairs with a girl I’d been friends with for awhile. We had never done anything and I guess the liquid courage had brought us together. Upstairs in our friend’s bed we made out heavily. Our hands were all over each other, after years of unspoken sexual tension. My hands slipped up beneath her shirt and began caressing her breasts. Her nipples were erect and her skin was soft. She moaned at my every touch and I was deeply aroused; however, the moment of ecstasy came to a crashing halt when my right hand clinched close, snapping shut with her breast in my grip.
She screamed and I tried to release it but it only squeezed tighter. She cried in pain telling me how it was too much and to stop. She was swearing at me and when my hold wouldn’t loosen she began slapping me just to get me to stop; to get me off of her. I finally got my hand off of her and she clutched her chest in pain. She left the party in tears. I would later hear about how bad the bruising was and how long it lasted. I hear to this day it can still be sensitive to the touch. I tried to apologize but she was angry and repulsed by me. We never spoke again but we occasionally see each other in passing. She still turns the other way and we never speak.
I tried meditation, religion, acupuncture, natural remedies; I even saw a hypnotist and nothing ever seemed to cure me of this curious…ailment of mine.
Just five years ago, I was twenty-nine, married and with child. We had brought our daughter home to the lovely nursery that had been set up for awhile; pink and blue elephants and hippos all over the walls. It was adorable just like our bundle of joy. My wife had been tuckered out to say the least and needed a nap; to which I said to go ahead and I’d watch the baby. My wife passed out from exhaustion and I shut the door so she wouldn’t be disturbed. I played with my daughter looking at this angel we had made. She opened her eyes and I saw those beautiful crystal-like marbles staring at me. I would be the man I knew she’d grow to trust and love before all others.
I held her, I talked to her, I sang to her; I was over the moon…and that’s when it happened. The worst thing that could ever happen to anyone, let alone a new father, came to be and at my hand no less. I was holding my baby girl when my hand snapped shut breaking the baby’s fragile neck. Her life ended instantly not even ten hours after bringing her home. I was heartbroken, of course, but my wife was destroyed when she had woken up to my cries to see what I had done. I single handedly threw everything away. My wife left me and she, herself, went through years of therapy before finally committing suicide, overdosing on painkillers.
You see, doctor, when it happens I don’t really get any control at all; not even emotionally or mentally. It’s as if my hand has a mind of its own and when it takes over its mind takes mine over as well. I’m not exempt from the pain, either. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been urinating when my penis would end up in a painful death grip. Throughout my school years my fingers were constantly splintered by my hand breaking pencils at random. I needed someone to talk to about it and I was told you were the best and so I’m here.
…And, as you can tell by my hand around your throat and your eyes blacking out, that I have far from evaded my…affliction.
Time is up, doctor.
Monday, May 2, 2016
Onward and Upward
Feeling a bit reflective as of late as I'm about to jump into more things that are new to me.
Though not many know about this blog, I have plenty of stories posted and more coming to show some of my work. I've written screenplays (albeit incorrectly haha). I have loads of comic book scripts and the only artist I have is tied up with our book Tourniquet and things he's working on for various other people. Like the comics I have some children's books written with no artist. And now I've got a bunch of books lined up; something I never expected. As I've stated in the post "The Struggle" I'm a struggling writer and it's a frustrating (and often depressing) feeling that I'm working so much and so hard for nobody to know who I am but I have faith that I won't be so invisible by year's end.
My first book was released on Feb 1st and before its release I already had other projects lined up. I never understood how artists got more jobs before their current project had even seen the light of day and now it's happened to me and I'm getting it now.
Gun Control for Polar Bears came out to a roaring silence. My friends and family bought copies to show support but beyond that it remains unknown for now. Incidentally, weeks after its release I had some people unfriend me on Facebook. My assumption is that due to my constant rambling about the book they probably became annoyed and even thought me a braggart and left. Though I am proud of it and the opportunities its given me, I'm far from bragging when posting so much about this little poetry book as Facebook has been my only resource and means of selling the book. I'm currently taking a friend's advice and will be setting up Twitter and Instagram accounts. I may start a YouTube someday down the line but for now everything I'm saying is on this blog.
Though my first book is not really known beyond people that know me I'm pleased with it as a first. I think about things like George Lucas making THX-1138 (my favorite of his btw) and it nearly bankrupting American Zoetrope along with pissing off the film's financiers and homeboy went on to make Star Wars. Gun Control for Polar Bears didn't bankrupt Supposed Crimes or set them back or make them hate me for putting it out so I'm feeling pretty good about it. Someday when it's out of print, I'll still have a copy on my shelves. That alone is a weird thing to me; I always dreamt of having one of my own books aside the others I have on my bookshelf and, now that I have that, it's not something I really think about. I just keep working. It makes me wonder if when I "make it" if I will even take notice.
It's been a busy year. This past month I've finished two horror anthologies and rewrote two screenplays. Now I'm about to jump into some sci-fi work before editing a couple of more screenplays. It's always a weird feeling for me when I finish something because there's a small moment afterwards where I don't know what to do with myself, having just poured myself into something that's now done. I won't lie, when I'm not writing, I feel a bit worthless and purposeless. Then it takes a moment before jumping right back into that feeling with the next project and then the cycle repeats itself. Right now I'm in that state in between works which is why I'm posting so much today, just letting out everything as I'm going through it. I've never had writer's block, that affliction tends to stay clear of me. I'm usually hit with constant interruptions or writer's doubt. Regardless of how much I love or believe in something, I end up getting that mopy feeling of "Is any of this any good? I'm I doing the right thing?" Frustrations and irritations build to the point where part of me wonders if I should continue but writing/creating is the only thing I've ever actually been good at. Of course, most of this could very well have nothing to do with being a writer and just to do with having Multiple Sclerosis and the feelings of doubt and depression that come with it. But there are people out there doing worse than myself so I don't really talk about my MS much anymore unless it's in jest.
My wife had wanted me to start a blog for sometime and when I finally did (I called it Beavertown Productions because we live in the grand metropolis of Bevier, a tiny town, and I jokingly refer to it as Beavertown) it was mainly to get my work out and to help build my name. Interesting side-note: I've often read about writers who complain about how they don't want to be a brand, they just want to write their stories; but to me it would seem that if you're a creator and you're trying to be known so people will look at your stories, you're essentially building a brand and the brand is you. Just my take on it anyway. As time has gone on I've decided I also want to talk about what else is going on throughout processes and all. I've always wanted writers to talk about what actually goes on and I'm nowhere near a great, famous author (not even known beyond my circle) I'm still a writer and I still want to open the windows and let people in to what goes on in my mind and life during this journey.
Tomorrow I turn 32 and though I'm not where I want or expected to be at this age, I'm not where I was when I was about to turn 31. I think we could all keep that in mind in times of frustration, we're further than what we were, and we're continuing to move on. Onward and upward.
Much love.
Though not many know about this blog, I have plenty of stories posted and more coming to show some of my work. I've written screenplays (albeit incorrectly haha). I have loads of comic book scripts and the only artist I have is tied up with our book Tourniquet and things he's working on for various other people. Like the comics I have some children's books written with no artist. And now I've got a bunch of books lined up; something I never expected. As I've stated in the post "The Struggle" I'm a struggling writer and it's a frustrating (and often depressing) feeling that I'm working so much and so hard for nobody to know who I am but I have faith that I won't be so invisible by year's end.
My first book was released on Feb 1st and before its release I already had other projects lined up. I never understood how artists got more jobs before their current project had even seen the light of day and now it's happened to me and I'm getting it now.
Gun Control for Polar Bears came out to a roaring silence. My friends and family bought copies to show support but beyond that it remains unknown for now. Incidentally, weeks after its release I had some people unfriend me on Facebook. My assumption is that due to my constant rambling about the book they probably became annoyed and even thought me a braggart and left. Though I am proud of it and the opportunities its given me, I'm far from bragging when posting so much about this little poetry book as Facebook has been my only resource and means of selling the book. I'm currently taking a friend's advice and will be setting up Twitter and Instagram accounts. I may start a YouTube someday down the line but for now everything I'm saying is on this blog.
Though my first book is not really known beyond people that know me I'm pleased with it as a first. I think about things like George Lucas making THX-1138 (my favorite of his btw) and it nearly bankrupting American Zoetrope along with pissing off the film's financiers and homeboy went on to make Star Wars. Gun Control for Polar Bears didn't bankrupt Supposed Crimes or set them back or make them hate me for putting it out so I'm feeling pretty good about it. Someday when it's out of print, I'll still have a copy on my shelves. That alone is a weird thing to me; I always dreamt of having one of my own books aside the others I have on my bookshelf and, now that I have that, it's not something I really think about. I just keep working. It makes me wonder if when I "make it" if I will even take notice.
It's been a busy year. This past month I've finished two horror anthologies and rewrote two screenplays. Now I'm about to jump into some sci-fi work before editing a couple of more screenplays. It's always a weird feeling for me when I finish something because there's a small moment afterwards where I don't know what to do with myself, having just poured myself into something that's now done. I won't lie, when I'm not writing, I feel a bit worthless and purposeless. Then it takes a moment before jumping right back into that feeling with the next project and then the cycle repeats itself. Right now I'm in that state in between works which is why I'm posting so much today, just letting out everything as I'm going through it. I've never had writer's block, that affliction tends to stay clear of me. I'm usually hit with constant interruptions or writer's doubt. Regardless of how much I love or believe in something, I end up getting that mopy feeling of "Is any of this any good? I'm I doing the right thing?" Frustrations and irritations build to the point where part of me wonders if I should continue but writing/creating is the only thing I've ever actually been good at. Of course, most of this could very well have nothing to do with being a writer and just to do with having Multiple Sclerosis and the feelings of doubt and depression that come with it. But there are people out there doing worse than myself so I don't really talk about my MS much anymore unless it's in jest.
My wife had wanted me to start a blog for sometime and when I finally did (I called it Beavertown Productions because we live in the grand metropolis of Bevier, a tiny town, and I jokingly refer to it as Beavertown) it was mainly to get my work out and to help build my name. Interesting side-note: I've often read about writers who complain about how they don't want to be a brand, they just want to write their stories; but to me it would seem that if you're a creator and you're trying to be known so people will look at your stories, you're essentially building a brand and the brand is you. Just my take on it anyway. As time has gone on I've decided I also want to talk about what else is going on throughout processes and all. I've always wanted writers to talk about what actually goes on and I'm nowhere near a great, famous author (not even known beyond my circle) I'm still a writer and I still want to open the windows and let people in to what goes on in my mind and life during this journey.
Tomorrow I turn 32 and though I'm not where I want or expected to be at this age, I'm not where I was when I was about to turn 31. I think we could all keep that in mind in times of frustration, we're further than what we were, and we're continuing to move on. Onward and upward.
Much love.
A dream deferred is not a dream denied
Art was always in me; in a sense that everything I ever wanted to do or dreamed of had to do with art. When I was a little boy I wanted nothing more than to do comics. These days those dreams are becoming a reality but they're slow moving. Growing up, other artistic things came about that I also wanted to throw my hat in. I love playing music and wanted to get a band going, however it was very hard to find people who were as serious as me about it as most people I found just wanted to hang out with their friends and play but not really take it anywhere. I, myself, was too chicken to go try to go out and just do it solo. These days my health wouldn't really permit me "touring" or anything if I had the chance. I might throw my hat back in that ring someday but it'll just be for small coffee shop stuff. Along with my love for music I had badly wanted to be a filmmaker. I never had the chance to go to film school and over time I was okay with this as some of my favorite filmmakers didn't even go themselves.
I had hit a point where I was doing a little internal math with how many stories I had and how long it would take to make each one. When it comes to art projects I have a fantastic memory; every other part of my memory is horrible (i.e. I can remember an idea I had 10 years ago exactly just don't expect me to remember everything when I go to the store). I'm not saying it's necessarily a good thing; I'm just saying how it seems to be. The ideas I have usually build up in my head and don't really leave until I get them out and finished. I'm bombarded with so many ideas constantly that I get headaches when they stack up and every time I get one done it relieves pressure; odd, I know. With that said, I realized I could get more of my ideas out of my head if I were to focus on being a screenwriter rather than a writer/director. In the time it would take me to see a film from beginning to end I could have at least several written. I still have the itch to someday make one but what's on my mind (and has been for some time) is mainly silent film. I just have to come up with the right story and all. My problem has always been I have either a story and no format or a format and no story; there are worse problems to have.
A little over a year ago I wrote my first full screenplay, Hospice Horses; a thriller. I was so stoked once I got done, I thought "Holy shit! I can DO this!" In seven months I wrote ten screenplays, all of them ranging from psychological drama to thriller to horror. Later I would find out, of course, that in my inner-arrogance I had done them wrong; too descriptive in some parts and too rushed in others, all around not formatted correctly.
Some of these screenplays [Sisters, Big Prizes (formerly Missing Persons), The Slitting (formerly Slit), Beyond the Wall, All in a Day's Work, and The Funeral Party] I just transferred to stories for anthologies that you all will see sometime soon. Two of these screenplays, Hospice Horses and A Quiet Moment in the Symphony (based on a story by my wife and myself), are WGA registered. I still want to be a screenwriter badly. My wife always tells me when I get upset about things not happening "A dream deferred is not a dream denied" and I keep that in mind often. I'm happy to get the chance to do the books I've been doing but it's odd because I just kind of fell into it.
I watch a lot of screenwriter interviews and I've been getting help from a newer friend of mine; who happens to be the boyfriend of a friend who's always greatly inspired me (though she still doesn't understand why), it's funny how things work. He's been helping me with notes on formatting and all. Through talking to him, getting to know him, and us becoming friends we found out something interesting, which is how we're in the same boat but reversed. I badly want to write scripts while currently writing books; he could easily write a script as that's the world he knows but he wants to write books. Life's strange like that sometimes.
Using his notes and the notes of others I've seen in interviews, I've gone back through the two scripts I have registered and rewrote them. It's odd how time can change things; I hadn't looked at these in some time and when I opened them back up to change them I instantly saw what needed to be fixed. I'll be sending them out soon once I give them one more look through. I know in my heart that I can do it, it's just a learning process. After I do a final pass through these two scripts I'm going to start work on the rewrites for my first sci-fi book Last Rites of the Capacitance. Pretty soon, like the two aforementioned scripts, I'll be cleaning up and re-editing Infomercialhead and The House That Fed (the last two in the grouping of ten I wrote), get them registered and get them sent out by year's end. I had been thinking about transferring them to a book format but after re-doing 'Hospice' and 'Symphony' it had dawned on me that I could very well turn them around.
I'm incredibly grateful to be writing what I'm writing but wanting to learn the screenwriting style correctly is still in the back of my mind. I've grown up hearing horror stories about screenwriters getting their work rewritten and completely changed. Knowing this going in, I understand that it's standard practice and I know not to freak out when it happens. It makes me all the more thankful that I have these other venues that I'm currently working in.
I wrote my 11th script, a purposely just dumb comedy anthology and I have most of a 12th which is a horror/monster comedy of sorts. My friend gave me notes on the comedy and when I get time I'll give it re-writes and will eventually finish the 12th. I have files on my computer that's just lists of film ideas so hopefully once I get it down those will be done the best they can be.
I had hit a point where I was doing a little internal math with how many stories I had and how long it would take to make each one. When it comes to art projects I have a fantastic memory; every other part of my memory is horrible (i.e. I can remember an idea I had 10 years ago exactly just don't expect me to remember everything when I go to the store). I'm not saying it's necessarily a good thing; I'm just saying how it seems to be. The ideas I have usually build up in my head and don't really leave until I get them out and finished. I'm bombarded with so many ideas constantly that I get headaches when they stack up and every time I get one done it relieves pressure; odd, I know. With that said, I realized I could get more of my ideas out of my head if I were to focus on being a screenwriter rather than a writer/director. In the time it would take me to see a film from beginning to end I could have at least several written. I still have the itch to someday make one but what's on my mind (and has been for some time) is mainly silent film. I just have to come up with the right story and all. My problem has always been I have either a story and no format or a format and no story; there are worse problems to have.
A little over a year ago I wrote my first full screenplay, Hospice Horses; a thriller. I was so stoked once I got done, I thought "Holy shit! I can DO this!" In seven months I wrote ten screenplays, all of them ranging from psychological drama to thriller to horror. Later I would find out, of course, that in my inner-arrogance I had done them wrong; too descriptive in some parts and too rushed in others, all around not formatted correctly.
Some of these screenplays [Sisters, Big Prizes (formerly Missing Persons), The Slitting (formerly Slit), Beyond the Wall, All in a Day's Work, and The Funeral Party] I just transferred to stories for anthologies that you all will see sometime soon. Two of these screenplays, Hospice Horses and A Quiet Moment in the Symphony (based on a story by my wife and myself), are WGA registered. I still want to be a screenwriter badly. My wife always tells me when I get upset about things not happening "A dream deferred is not a dream denied" and I keep that in mind often. I'm happy to get the chance to do the books I've been doing but it's odd because I just kind of fell into it.
I watch a lot of screenwriter interviews and I've been getting help from a newer friend of mine; who happens to be the boyfriend of a friend who's always greatly inspired me (though she still doesn't understand why), it's funny how things work. He's been helping me with notes on formatting and all. Through talking to him, getting to know him, and us becoming friends we found out something interesting, which is how we're in the same boat but reversed. I badly want to write scripts while currently writing books; he could easily write a script as that's the world he knows but he wants to write books. Life's strange like that sometimes.
Using his notes and the notes of others I've seen in interviews, I've gone back through the two scripts I have registered and rewrote them. It's odd how time can change things; I hadn't looked at these in some time and when I opened them back up to change them I instantly saw what needed to be fixed. I'll be sending them out soon once I give them one more look through. I know in my heart that I can do it, it's just a learning process. After I do a final pass through these two scripts I'm going to start work on the rewrites for my first sci-fi book Last Rites of the Capacitance. Pretty soon, like the two aforementioned scripts, I'll be cleaning up and re-editing Infomercialhead and The House That Fed (the last two in the grouping of ten I wrote), get them registered and get them sent out by year's end. I had been thinking about transferring them to a book format but after re-doing 'Hospice' and 'Symphony' it had dawned on me that I could very well turn them around.
I'm incredibly grateful to be writing what I'm writing but wanting to learn the screenwriting style correctly is still in the back of my mind. I've grown up hearing horror stories about screenwriters getting their work rewritten and completely changed. Knowing this going in, I understand that it's standard practice and I know not to freak out when it happens. It makes me all the more thankful that I have these other venues that I'm currently working in.
I wrote my 11th script, a purposely just dumb comedy anthology and I have most of a 12th which is a horror/monster comedy of sorts. My friend gave me notes on the comedy and when I get time I'll give it re-writes and will eventually finish the 12th. I have files on my computer that's just lists of film ideas so hopefully once I get it down those will be done the best they can be.
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