I've been trying to strengthen my various skills and find creative ways to utilize them.
I don't think it's working.
Nevertheless, I've been working on book trailers and advertisements, which are fun. They also force me to learn and improve.
Here's a trailer I made for Orpheus and the Pearl by Kim Paffenroth.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9JJuSG28Op8
Here's a trailer I made for Leftovers by Steve Vernon.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_gyxuMQ01fU
Here's something I made for the contributors of Winter Frights. (This isn't a real trailer. I just made it in the hopes that it would get some chuckles.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_tTjeLetOM
I also made something for Nick from Novello Publishers.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UQNZHm5SjLA
Then there are experiments:
A Winter Frights experiment.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CisXYsOZbw0
A promo experiment.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iVL79IXbR9Y
And a Peacekeepers experiment.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JOdtxV7XON8
I made a video for people who want to submit stories to the MagusZine. I've noticed most people don't read the guidelines. I receive a lot of submissions by people I don't think have ever read a book. This video may be a glimpse at the fucked-up near future of writing.
I'm very proud of how this turned out. I wrote and recorded the music, did the vocal track and sound effects, edited it all together...I poured my heart and soul into it. Heart and soul, people. Heart and soul.
Dichotomy, Cover Letter, Might Be Murder, Mo*Con
Current mood: tested
Category: Writing and Poetry
Dichotomy: 1) I hate serial killer stories. Especially stories with a serial killer killing a serial killer.
but
Dexter is my favorite television show. Exquisite Corpse by Poppy Z. Brite makes the elves in my belly do the happy dance. I've never missed an episode of Criminal Minds.
Someone recently submitted a 15,000 word manuscript. I don't know what the hell he expected me to do with it.
Anyway, his cover letter:
[e-mail begins]
To whom it may concern, Hello my name is [deleted]. I don't know if this story falls into the typical horror catogory but it is a story full of darkness and evil. The story is inspired from a ten year period I spent running from the law. The names have been changed, So I guess that makes it sdemi fictional. I look forward to hearing from you. You can contact me @ [deleted]@[deleted].com or by phone @ ***-***-**** thankyou [deleted]
[e-mail ends]
I'm not a rat, snitch, or concerned citizen, but I was really hoping that he had murdered someone in Texas so that I could forward this e-mail to Joe McKinney. He's a homicide detective in San Antonio. Maybe I could have helped with some cold cases.
No such luck.
-------------------
I NEED to go to Mo*Con. I don't know how I'm going to get there, or where I'm going to stay when I get there, but I NEED to go.
Mo*Con III: The Intersection of Spirituality, Art, and Gender
My dad died on June 14, 2003. My dad and I always spoke about death. We spoke about spirituality and our ideas about life after death, the supernatural, the bizarre, the occult...we shared macabre interests. We shared mystic interests. He appreciated my writing, opinions, and beliefs. Our opinions and beliefs were not always things we agreed on, but they were things we shared and discussed.
The fact that Mo*Con is on the anniversary of my dad's death gives it a strange significance. (The 13th-15th was a fucking weird weekend.)
Besides, after my dad died there was this numbness that lasted for a long time. I became distanced, detached, and shunned my former interests. I was afraid that if I looked too closely at all those things we used to share that I would find there was nothing there.
Shocking Tales of Terror
Current mood: shocked
Category: Writing and Poetry
Sometimes I'll get a submission that reminds me of the beginning of a CSI episode.
Imagine: Gil Grissom is called to a crime scene. He's shining his UV light around and sees something shocking. You can tell it's shocking by the way his cheeks wobble. He stoops down and picks up what looks like a limp sausage. "Well," he says. "Looks like our vic couldn't keep his dick in his pants."
Cue the opening credits. "Whoooooo are you? Who who? Who who?"
The submissions are 4,000 words culminating in a bad pun. 4,000 words setting up a bad joke. And not even the kind of bad joke I like! Nope. They're not dead baby jokes, they're not grosser than gross jokes, and they don't end with someone snapping their fingers and saying, "The Aristocrats." Nope. Just bad puns.
Then there are endings that crawled out of a dumpster behind an abortion clinic where Twilight Zone scripts go to get rid of their bad ideas. Those endings are not shockers.This is the shocker:
Social Networking, Sickness, Friends, Mixtapes, Music, Misspelled Words, and Stuff
Current mood: groggy
Category: Friends
I found one of these Mixwit things on Jason Sizemore's page. (Here is the Apex Mixtape, far superior to mine.) I love music and I love making mixtapes. I take great pride in my ability to anthologize things. Anyway, I would spend hours on this stupid site and my computer would start to rebel. It would say, "No, David. I will not allow you to reach your potential of creative genius. Instead I will force you to restart your computer every ten minutes." So I picked four and stuck them on in no particular order.
But not all machines want to see us suffer. Nope. I told you about my good friend Twitter. I learn about these things from Matt Staggs, and now I can learn about them a lot faster since I follow him on Twitter.
I also found this nifty gadget that will allow me to keep up with my blogs on various sites...The ones I forgot about. I found all this cool Magus Press stuff that I had completely forgotten about. Who'da thunk it? I sure as hell didn't. I had to stick type Magus Press into Google and look for it.
Thanks to a widget called Blog It I can stay up to date all across the web.
The problem is that Myspace is the Microsoft of social networking websites. It is the least compatable with other sites, but it's the one I spend the most time on and am most familiar with.
I have a pretty optimistic view of the future. Sure, every now and then a mom will urge her daughter's rival to kill herself on the internet; teens will stick a videotape of them hazing someone on YouTube; sex offenders will hack the social networking applications of Dunder Mifflin (Hey, did you watch the Office last night?); evil hellspawn from Illinois will threaten to murder your friends and their children and their children's children; but ultimately more good comes from these connections that can be formed.
Since I think in five paragraph essays, I know the counter-arguments. We're losing real connections. We're getting brain cancer. We're exposed to massive amounts of sex and violence (though some of us do so intentionally). Meh, the world has been worse. (And since I think in five paragraph essays, I can think of three arguments opposing my statement and can counter them with three paragraphs worth of useless information. But I'm not going to do that.)
Anyway, what I'm trying to say is...
You know, I have no fucking clue what I was talking about.
I just got over a really bad fever.
I just got done typing a lot and sometimes when I'm typing I forget to breathe.
Twitterpating and Stuff, heavy on the stuff
Current mood: awake
WEB:
I think I'm going to become addicted to Twitter if I'm not careful. I'll spend my days twitterpating. You can follow me on Twitter here: http://twitter.com/MagusPress
It's cheaper than hiring a private investigator.
MUSIC:
Listening to "Die Motherfucker Die" by Get Set Go. It's a pretty cool song. If Edward Lee sang for Belle & Sebastian (circa Tigermilk) it'd probably sound like this. I don't know how Ed Lee's singing voice is, but if it were as purdy as a city boy's mouth trapped in redneck hell...
Last night, I broke into Steve Vernon's house. Just to look around. I found this sitting on his desk.
Wicked Woods Book Tour and Release
My new Nimbus book, Wicked Woods: Ghost Stories From Old New Brunswick, has hit the book stands. You should find copies for purchase in most Maritime bookstores. If not, I'd appreciate you folks asking for copies at the bookstores. I want to see this book out there.
Plans for a book tour and a modest media campaign are already underway. I should be appearing on CTV's Live At Five on May 5, 2008.
I'll be launching Wicked Woods on Wednesday, May 7 in Fredericton. Call 454-1442 for location, time and details. Thanks to the folks at Westminster Books for supporting this launch.
Between May 7 to May 10 I will be taking part in the Canterbury Tales Literary Festival in Saint John, New Brunswick. On May 8 I'll be reading from Wicked Woods at the Saint John Free Public Library Market Square. I'll also be there Thursday March 7 to take part in the opening ceremonies along with the Lieutenant-Governor of New Brunswick Honourable Herménégilde Chiasson and the Mayor of Saint John, Norman McFarlane.
Throughout those few days I will be making several New Brunswick school appearances and will hopefully be making several so-far unnanounced media appearances.
I will be signing copies of Wicked Woods at quite a few Nova Scotia bookstores, I expect, but so far dates have not been finalized. I will keep you folks updated as information reaches me.
These Things Happen and FREE Stuff!
Current mood: amused
Category: Writing and Poetry
---THE REJECTION SLIP---
Good thing I have free long distance.
I accidentally sent a rejection letter to an author whose story I accepted. Needless to say, a bewildered author received a late night phone call from a very em-bare-assed publisher. There was a lot of tense laghter. If we ever meet, I hope he kicks me in the balls.
The Toxic Avenger and Suggested Blog Reading
Current mood: energetic
As many of you know, I have a tattoo of the Toxic Avenger on my chest, which makes the video below very exciting for/to me.
===Suggested Blog Reading===
Okay, as a struggling writer and as an editor who wants to give advice that I sometimes don't find the words or time to give, I found these to be some very good blogs about writing right here on myspace.
Alethea Kontis writes some of the best blogs, and this is another good one. It's about getting upset when the kernels don't pop. It's called "Pop." http://blog.myspace.com/aletheakontis
R.H. Stavis has a blog on following the heart. "Bi-Weekly Blog 4/12/08 & Listening to Your Heart." http://blog.myspace.com/rhstavis
And is you haven't checked out The Magus Press website (www.MagusPress.com) since it's been updated, check it out and let me know what you think. It ain't perfect yet, but soon my children of the corn...soon.
Stephen King, School Shootings, Horror Movies, LA, Janet Leigh, and Alien Gods
Current mood: awake
Category: Movies, TV, Celebrities
This is my first major blog post in months. Okay, maybe this is my first real blog post. I've outlined what each section contains so no one has to read the whole thing. (The sad part is that it didn't take me too long to write this. I'm a fast typer.)
1) The first section is about a friend request I received and the profile of the group. (It's also about Stephen King, movies, and school shootings.) 2) In the second section I speak of going to LA, the meaning and meaninglessness behind events, and stuff. 3) The third section is about existence, the extra work I've done for TV and movies, and preachin' the gospel from the mouth of the Almighty Alien. And talk about how I miss an opportunity to perhaps meet Janet Leigh. 4) Section four I've entitled: A Long Time 5) The final section is about sins of omission.
===SECTION ONE===
Jeven Productions sent me a friend request. I skimmed through the page but only noticed two words: Occidental College. I thought, Cool! That's where Barrack Obama went to college, and decided I would add them, then I realized that was a pretty stupid reason to add someone and decided to look at what kind of production company they were. I think the name of the kid who set up the profile is J.D., which may be short for Jeven Something. I've never heard the name Jeven before, but I shall call this J.D. person Jeven because it is a cool name.
To the point! Jeven is a film major in LA (like many of my LA real-life friends) and is adapting the short story "Cain Rose Up" by Stephen King to film. I have little faith in most filmmakers when it comes to the adaptation of anything by Stephen King. Frank Darabont is one exception, because, well, he's an exceptional director. (And his novella Walpuski's Typewriter is cool.) But I have decided to put faith in these kids. (They're only two years younger than me. If they were my age I would consider them my peers and I have no faith in my peers.) They managed to acquire the rights from Stephen King and they want to shoot on 35mm, which is awesome because there are way too many DV douche bags out there.
[Side note: I used to collect 16mm movie cameras. I sold them off along with 500 minutes worth of 16mm film to help finance Magus Press. I still don't know if it was a good idea or not.]
Anyway, "Cain Rose Up" features a fucked in the head college kid who shoots some people on campus. Stephen King wrote it while in college. Semi-recently, he was asked to weigh in on the Virginia Tech Massacre in an EW editorial. He was asked whether or not a person's writing could foreshadow an eruption of violence. He wrote :
"On the whole, I don't think you can pick these guys out based on their work, unless you look for violence unenlivened by any real talent." Here's the full article.
It will be nice to see kids shooting a movie on a college campus instead of shooting each other. (There's been too much of that these days.)
Earlier today I had pulled Skeleton Crew off my bookshelf. I read "The Monkey" and was about to read "Cain Rose Up" when I got the friend request. Also, if I hadn't just finished Dreams from My Father by Barrack Obama, I wouldn't have known that he went to Occidental College. The confluence of events led me to wonder: Do things happen for a reason. I laughed and replied to myself, "Of course they do, douche bag. The events which occur are propelled by past events. The question you should be asking yourself is, 'Is there meaning or do you make the meaning?'" After that I stopped talking to myself, so I don't know how the internal philosophical debate ended.
I am going to LA, however, and may be there when they're shooting. They want extras and I'm always happy to be an extra. I've done a lot of extra work, and a lot of work that may as well been extra work since all I ended up doing was standing around.
====SECTION THREE===
I was once an extra for the filming of a Showtime TV show pilot about an astronaut who goes to outerspace, LITERALLY finds God, and upon returning becomes a preacher, working to spread the Word o' Gaaaaaaaaawd Almighty.
It was filmed at the University of Utah Stadium where the Utes play. It's a big ass stadium. In the pilot episode, The Preachernaut (as I shall call him) was speaking in front of a stadium of people. There were probably two hundred of us extras and we had to move about the stadium so that they could multiply us using CGI. We were also responsible for holding up the cardboard cut-outs that made it appear that there were more people than there really were.
The filming too place between 9 p.m. and 3 a.m. from a Wednesday to a Friday, so after shooting was done we would go to a diner and drink coffee until it was time to go to school.
My friend's girlfriend had a purse full of pharmaceutical drugs. One night I took a bunch of uppers -- the only time I've taken prescription drugs recreationally -- to help me stay awake. I thought I'd get all tweaked out, but I developed what I can only describe as a supreme focus. If there is a state of mind which can be called normal, then normal was where my mind rested. So I focused on the words of the Preachernaut, and without the symphony of discordant voices in my head (what I like to call "the parliament of voices," my ego being speaker of the house) it was easy to accept what the Preachernaut was saying. There weren't fifty voices trying to contradict each other's statements. There was nothing. Just the moment.
It took a massive amount of drugs for me to find a sliver of worth in that show.
The pilot crashed. It never aired. Thank God.
Once, a movie was being shot at the State Fair. I don't know how I got on the set or why no one asked me to leave. I was ten and DO NOT ENTER signs wasn't going to keep me away from an illusion of an illusion being created within a place of illusion. So I walked past security. They assumed I belonged there.
I didn't know this at the time, but Janet Leigh was in it. Someone had mentioned her name and I thought they were talking about the girl from Clarissa Explains It All. I wouldn't admit it at ten, but I thought Melissa Joan Hart was a hotty, so I kept wandering around, looking for Clarissa...
I don't know if Janet Leigh was there. Still...
Kids are fuckin' stupid.
===SECTION FOUR===
For a long time, I did nothing. Let me tell you about those years. I can do it quickly:
I did nothing.
===SECTION FIVE===
Making up for lost oppurtunties. Maybe that's what my life is.
I regret a lot of things. I've done terrible things, stupid things, embarassing things. My actions have not always coincided with my principles, but it's my inactions I regret the most. I don't regret my sins of comission as much as I do my sins of omission.
As Ogden Nash says in Portrait of the Artist as a Prematurely Old Man:
"The moral is that it is probably better not to sin at all, but if some kind of sin you must be pursuing, Well, remember to do it by doing rather than by not doing."
"With Orpheus and the Pearl, Kim Paffenroth has stepped up to the plate left vacant by the late Ray Russell and hit one out of the park. Every element one expects to find in a traditional ’gothic’ tale is present, but shown from a parallax view, keeping the reader guessing and anxious all the way to its surprisingly moving finale."
--Gary A. Braunbeck, Bram Stoker Award Winning author of Coffin County and Mr. Hands
"Kim Paffenroth is a breath of fresh air in modern horror. Orpheus and the Pearl is truly chilling, and I thank [Paffenroth] for reclaiming the great Gothic tradition. There are no cheap scares here, no blood and guts spilled for gore’s sake. This is terror at its best. Like Jean Rhys’ landmark novel Wide Sargasso Sea, Paffenroth’s tale reaches into the dark places to show us just how high of a price we have to pay to rescue the madwoman in the attic."
WHC: FINAL DISPATCH --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The morning after killed. I didn’t feel the need to puke. I knew puking would make me feel better but I was already compared to an anorexic Matthew Brodderick this weekend and decided sticking my finger down my throat wouldn’t make things any better. I was alone now. So very, very alone.
I trudged/stumbled into the hotel restaraunt to get breakfast. Being a vegan can be a real bitch sometimes. There were only two things on the menu I could eat and neither seemed especially appealing. I ended up eating two plates of hashbrowns and what can only be called gruel. ("Please, sir. Can I have some more?")
I called a cab and that’s pretty much the end of the story. I saw Jeff Strand getting into a taxi. He said something to me. I opened my mouth, tried not to puke on his shoes, and said my goodbyes. "Goodlebebunk homey glug," I said.
Like I said in an earlier blog, Dave from City Slab is a pretty convincing guy.
Dave: "Come to Fango."
Me: "Sure. Why the fuck not?"
So, I’ll be in Los Angeles in three weeks at the Weekend of Horrors. I have a table, so if any of you are out there, say hi. Fangoria’s Weekend of Horrors is likely to be even more surreal for this editor/writer/fan boy. Clive Barker’s going to be there for fuck’s sake. I’ve read him since fourth grade and he has had one hell of an influence on my life. I’ve got a Hellraiser tattoo on my forearm. I still remember the feeling I got when I first read the Books of Blood. His artwork has fascinated me from an early age.
How could I say no?
I tried. "There’s no way I can do it," I said. "Wait. I take that back. I could. I don’t know if I should."
Dave convinced me I should. Mike’s going. Makes it well worth it. It was a pleasure sitting next to them during the convention and I’d like to hang out with them again.
I told Mike and Beth if they ever repeated this story, "Your pain will be legendary, even in hell," to quote Mr. Pinhead. Anyway, I’m going to repeat it anyway. Both agreed there’s no shame in this story. (At least that’s what they said.)
We were sitting at the Dead Dog Party. People were trickling out. I had submitted a story to City Slab shortly before the first issue came out. Admittedly, it blew chunks. It was one of my favorite stories at the time (and still is), but it’s amazing to see the amount of growth between those two periods. (Not as in menses. You know, just two points in space-time.) Yeah. That’s the story. My shameful little secret. I don’t know where my embarassment comes from. I think it’s because I was so young when I first started submitting to professional markets that I’m afraid people will remember that thing that sounded like it was written like a fifth grader, although I was indeed a fifth grader at the time.
[FUCK YEAH!!! I just found out that I will have a place to stay in Los Angeles and...it won’t cost any money. I get to stay with my friend Marshall and his family, who have some strange genetic mutation that makes them all attractive, intelligent, and kind. Suck on that, Mike!]
Anyway, I’ll be blogging more. I love you all and missed you.
WHC -- Last Day/Night/Day After WARNING:Parts of this come dangerously close to name dropping...
Remember that whole maturity thing I was talking about yesterday? Yeah, scratch that. Anyway, after sipping my beer and looking at the back of Simon Clark’s head, I went outside to smoke. Then I went back to the bar to grab another beer.
I sat with John Palisano, Richard Payne, and Alexandra Sokoloff. After talking with us for a little while -- and giving me an Advanced Reading Copy of her new novel, The Price -- she went off somewhere. Anyway, Alexandra rocks. The Casbah? Yeah, she rocks that.
Mike King, the art director for City Slab, joined John, Richard, and me at the table. John and Richard departed. Then Mike and I drank for a while. And then a while more. We spent close to sixty dollars on booze. Mike is one funny bastard and cool as hell. He helped me justify flooding my system with alcohol.
Dave Lindschmidt from City Slab convinced Mike and I to go to Fangoria’s Weekend of Horrors in Los Angeles. Mike lives in Boston. Getting there is gonna be a bitch, but well worth it. I have friends in LA, so hopefully I can crash with them. It will be great to hang out with them again. I already miss sitting at a table with them. This was actually the first time Mike had met Dave and Scott. Dave lives in Seattle, Scott in Arkansas, and Mike...like I said...in Boston. All three rock. So, Fango or bust.
I went to take a piss and then check in on the Dead Dog Party. There was booze in there now. Alexandra, John, Gary Braunbeck, Alan and Jude from Borderlands, Elizabeth Blue, Jeremy from Nightshade and a lot of other people. I went back to the bar and told Mike that we needn’t have spent so much on booze. After all, there was free booze not too far away. We ordered two more beers, drank them, smoked, and then went to the Dead Dog Party. I was thoroughly fucking wasted at this point, but I think I was much more coherent than I had been during most of the convention.
You know who’s a bad ass? Elizabeth Blue. She was great fun to talk to and she’s a wonderful person. I hung out with her and Mike until she started packing to go to the airport. I got to spend more time speaking to Alexandra and John at the Dead Dog party. She’s very enjoyable to talk to. There was a girl/woman/womyn who I saw read a story last year in Toronto in front of a peer, critique group. The story left its mark. I loved it, so it was nice talking to her and her husband. They played a Japanese board game. Maybe I read into it too much, but the game seems to have some serious underlying philosophy on how the world operates, especially on an island. Also, warfare and the competing forces of the positive and negative.
I grew more and more happily drunk. Fortunately, I didn’t do anything stupid like last year. So maybe my drunken self has matured too.
While at the convention this year I read Licker and The Bitchfight by Michael Arnzen. Authors didn’t point out how big of a fanboy I am. It’s always a pleasure to meet these people since they’ve had such a huge influence on me and I am such a fan of their work.
Kim Paffenroth is a great guy. Like I said, I almost killed both of us when picking him up at the airport. Takes a big man to let something like that slide.
Adam, who was the first person I met this year, taught me a lot. He’s been in the business forever. His first con was twenty-two years ago when he’d released his first novel. He would go from one con to another. He was relentless. He had good advice concerning Magus Press, and I got to hear stories about Theodore Sturgeon. Alan and Jude from Borderlands Books had a big influence on me too, so I drew two hearts on a paper, wrote my name on them, cut them out, and gave one to each of them. They inspired me, so I gave them love. (Yes, this wee punk rock neo-hippy believes love can change the world. Unless your name is Romeo and you’re dating someone named Juliet, or vice versa. Then love’s got you pretty fucked.)
confused
tested
shocked
groggy
awake
crazy
amused
bouncy
energetic
