Category Archives: writing

Not My Best Weekend

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This past weekend, which was an extended weekend for many here in the US but not for myself, was not as fun as I had hoped.

Originally, I was scheduled to run my Tabletop Role-playing Game of Space Opera for my friends and since that is the only time I see most of them I was quite looking forward to it.

However, this week, even with a holiday on Thursday, proved to be more stressful than I anticipated. A trip to the dermatologist to have a very small mole removed left lingering questions that gnawed at my subconscious.

By Saturday cycling migraine headaches arrived. None were very intense, but they would appear, disrupt my thinking and then recede only to return a couple of hours later. Too discombobulated to think clearly and with the prospect of a couple of hours with headphones on, the game is held over zoom, I was forced to cancel the session.

The headaches continued into Sunday, but I managed to keep my Sunday schedule of walking in the San Diego Zoo with my sweetie-wife, though the humidity made the experience quite a sticky one.

I also received another ‘pass’ from an agent I had queried to represent my werewolf novel. The rejection included a very brief reason. Normally any response beyond a canned form email is reason to be encouraged. Not this time.

Their specific issue, and granted this is just one person’s opinion, is that the sample was too ‘tell not show’ and felt overly expository. This stung because I have always felt that showing not telling and deftly handling exposition were part of my strong suits as a writer.

Ah well, the new week is starting and I shall raise my hopes once again.

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Gaiman, Hero Worship, and Human Frailty

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Numerous people throughout fandom are shaken to their cores as allegations are leveled at yet another beloved icon this time Neil Gaiman. I will not be going into the accusations as I have too little knowledge of what is precisely asserted to have an educated opinion.

Neil Gaiman has been a beloved writer in the genre spaces for some time. There have been numerous stories of his kindness and repeated examples of how he has brightened the darkness for other, often with wise comments on this mad industry and its often heavy psychological toll.

However, I am reminded of a bit from the MCU series Loki when the titular character comments that ‘No one good is truly good and no one bad is truly bad.’

We are all shades of gray. Darkness and light lives in every person’s heart. We all have an impulse to be compassionate and caring and we all have impulses to hurt and dominate.

It is now likely that Gaiman will join a terrible list of former artistic talents such Joss Whedon, Roman Polanski, or Kevin Spacey. What are we to learn from this?

I think Frank Herbert, a beloved writer in his own right may have already tried to teach us something about this with Paul Atriedes. Heroes are dangerous to your health.

There is a school of criticism where it is considered critical to separate the artists from the art. Buffy the Vampire Slayer remains an outstanding example of writing with an empowering message about feminine strength told through the lens of superheroes and monsters. Gaiman’s writing about love and the fantastic remain unchanged, the text of the stories and novels are precisely the same as they were last month before this knowledge came to light. Polanski’s adaptation of Macbeth or his cinematic genius directing in Chinatown still speaks truth the corrupting nature of power despite the man’s vile actions as a rapist.

I am not here to tell you to not read or consume any particular artists work because of their reprehensible personal nature. That is a decision each person must make for themselves. It is the personal moral quandary of the audience. What I can say is that the work does not change.

What we should strive to do always with the artistic products we adore because they speak to our very souls is to never forget that all artists are human. All humans are flawed and never construct fantasies of perfect for the flawed people of this planet.

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The Importance of the Denouement

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Once the story and plot have concluded all that remains for your prose or film is the denouement. This is a vital element of storytelling and one that if missing can seriously unsettle a reader or audience.

The purpose of the denouement is that it provides the space and time for the emotional climax of the tale to flower. If the story is a tragedy, it allows the audience to feel the weight of the loss or the futility of the character’s resistance to their fate. If the story has a conventionally ‘happy’ ending, then the denouement allows the audience to bask in the victory and empathize with the characters journey.

A denouement can be extremely short, sometimes in film a single freeze-frame can provide the emotional closure a story requires. Most are short segments that simply allow the reader or audience to cool down from the heat of the climax. An excellent example of this in film is Ripley’s recorded message in the original Alien. After igniting the engines, she has defeated the monster and there is no more plot to complete. However, ending the film with her watching the Zeta Reticulian parasite ejected in the void would have been unsatisfying. Our hearts were beating too fast to end it there, the denouement was absolutely essential.

Of course, a denouement can be overdone, creating a sense that a story or film never ends. The best example of that is the conclusion of The Return of the King where it felt as if the film had ended several times because the director was insistent on getting to the novel’s final line. That extended denouement did not work for everyone.

And when the denouement is all together missing the ending feels abrupt often leaving a reader or audience confused and shocked.

An American Werewolf in London has no denouement and nearly everyone the first time that view it are stunned by the unexpected and nearly slap in the face manner in which the film goes to credits and end song.

Think about your denouement and what you need it to do and how you will achieve it.

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Time and Familiarity Distorts Art

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By chance I am reexperiencing a couple of television series. To follow along with the podcast The Detective and The Log Lady my sweetie-wife and I are rewatching the surrealist mystery horror series Twin Peaks with an episode each Sunday evening. On YouTube I am enjoying watching millennial reactors experience the original series of Star Trek for the very first time.

Season one of Twin Peaks speeds along much faster than my faulty memory recalled. I had forgotten that the entire first series, as the Brit would say, totaled just 8 episodes. Not even half of a tradition American television season. My emotional memory of a slow, languid story that unfolded at a leisurely pace is entirely a construction that the mood of the series and the decay determine by the decades since its debut.

Star Trek has had a different course in my recent re-exposure to the program. I grew up watching reruns of the series in the 70s. (With very hazy memories as a child of the original broadcast.) I have seen every episode countless time, own the program on Blu-ray dice and have player the Roulette Episode game with myself where dice determine which story to watch.

This saturation of the series, with a judgment set by decades of rewatching that fixes the good and bad episodes into their hierarchy is quite shaken when a new viewer comes along.

Let That be Your Last Battlefield has long been on my list of some of Trek’s worst episodes. Aliens with superpowers that exist solely to put the plot of a deterministic course and a ‘message’ presented with all the subtly of a frying pan to the face made this episode painful to watch.

And yet people new to the series, without their opinions set my decades of judgment, can find the story engaging and relevant. My familiarity with the episode exaggerated it faults until I could no longer see its charms.

Oh, it remains a poor episode and the faults I have mentioned are glaring with my experience as a writer, but the bod doesn’t always overpower the good. It is important to try and keep that fresh new viewer experience alive.

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It Has Begun

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Last week and continuing for the rest of the calendar year I have begun writing my next novel. No, the werewolf book hasn’t found a home or an agent but in the game you cannot wait. Anyway, the best way to keep my mind off the waiting is to throw myself into the newest project.

This is my untitled American Folk Horror set on an island commune established at the height of the counterculture in the late 1960s and one that harbors a dark secret.

My earlier novels have nearly all been carefully outlined and plotted before I began writing. That is until The Wolves of Wallace Point which quite by accident became my first book written without a preplanned outline. I will admit that after a few thousand words I stopped and sketched an act breakdown but not a full outline, just enough to know what events ended each act.

This book is looking to be a hybrid creation process. I have carefully crafted the core characters with their backstories and motivations, and I have fully plotted and outline act 1 of 5 but not the rest. I know my acts and I think what I will do is outline each act when I complete the previous one.

I have in mind a character death/murder that I have hopes will be the most unsettling and terrifying thing I have ever written, and I can’t wait to get there.

5500 words have already been committed to the first two chapters and a modest production rate of 800 words per weekday should see the first draft completed before the new year. Only the final product will let me know if this has been a worthy experiment or an utter failure.

Fear of failure cannot be allowed to stop you, or one will never get anything of value completed.

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John Grant: a Study in Masculinity, Arrogance, and Self-Loathing

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Last night in preparation to listening to the podcast The Evolution of Horror‘s discussion I re-watched 1971’s Australian social horror Wake in Fright.

Spoilers

The film, based on the novel of the same title by Kenneth Cook, follows young schoolteacher John Grant on his scorching Christmas vacation. After losing all his money gambling Grant is stranded in the town of Bundanyabba in the parched Australian outback. He descends into a multi-day drinking binge with local men, partakes in a cruel, vicious kangaroo hunt that is more slaughter than hunt, and a likely drunken homosexual assignation. After failing to kill himself and spending the rest of his vacation in hospital Grant return to the even smaller town where he teaches and rents a room answering queries with, yeah, he had a good holiday.

From the moments we meet Grant silently waiting out the end of the school day so he can flee just like the children he teaches it’s clear that he harbors a deep disdain for the people of the outback. This is not alienated by the somewhat larger town of Bundayabba ‘The Yabba’ and he treats these townsfolk with similar condescension. Grant’s action however reveals him to be no more intelligent and in fact less so that the locals enjoying their drink and gambling when he loses all of his travel funds playing ‘Two-up.’ The ancient saying is that pride goes before the fall is concretely fact for the character of John Grant.

While the character displays a deep abiding disdain for the locals, he is shown repeatedly lacking the internal will to resist their peer pressure. He introduces himself as John Grant but when the local cop more than once calls him ‘jack’ a common enough nickname for people named John, Grant never corrects him, despite never during his staying introducing himself that way. Again and again Grant when pressed by other men caves to the pressure to drink, a strong indication that internally Grant is incomplete and possibly at war with himself.

During an evening of binge drinking Grant is led for a nighttime stroll by the adult daughter of one his mates. Janette in a direct and forward manner attempts to seduce Grant into sexual intercourse but after wordlessly and timidly complying he is unable to perform, scrambling off the prone woman to vomit. It is interesting that in a film that stays with John during his multiday alcoholic binge and takes to the effort to deal with going to the toilet the only depiction of retching is when he is sexually engaged with the film’s only substantial female character. Even after his same-sex drunken encounter where many movies would insert a reference to the character vomiting, Wake in Fright does not. John Grant’s sexuality is left an unanswered question with a very reasonable interpretation being that he is deeply closeted and in the hyper-masculine world of the Australian Outback quite self-loathing.

Masculinity plays an important element in Wake in Fright. It is always men who insist on John joining them in drinking. It is men who question why John would prefer talking with a woman to drinking. It is to men that John seems always trying to prove himself with boasts of his skill with a rifle and eventually with his attempt to match their physical prowess wrestling with and slaughter by hand with a knife an injured and immature kangaroo. John’s holiday plans had apparently been to travel to Sydney and be with Robin and yet the entire time he is stranded in ‘the Yabba’ he never attempts to call her for assistance. In the novel is apparently clear that the phot he carries is of a woman he has seen, knows somewhat but is not romantically involved with. The film never directly touches on this fantasy of a romantic relationship, but his visions of ‘Robin’ are never full scenes but something more like a teenager’s imaginings. It is what John Grant thinks being masculine is and something he can’t achieve.

Wake in Fright ends ambiguously on the nature of Grant’s character. The audience has no clue is his comment that he enjoyed his vacation was simply a polite but meaningless response or if in retrospect he did enjoy his sojourn to ‘the Yabba.’ There are dramatic gestures such as tearing up the photograph of Robin or any overly emotional reaction to the town on his return. Any change, revelation, or acceptance of Grant’s character by Grant is purely internal for John Grant alone.

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The New Novel

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I am about ready to begin writing my next novel. An American Folk horror set on a commune where things are not as idyllic as they appear.

A title for this piece still eludes me but hopefully something will appear as I compose the work. I have sketched out all the major characters, their histories and their relationships. I know all my major twists and I have in mind what I hope to be a truly horrific scene of one character’s death.

The plan is to begin the actual writing this week, while continuing more of the groundwork for the second half of the novel and completing the book by the end of the year. If I land around 90,000 words that requires a daily output of just around 750 words per day, excluding weekend.

No word yet if my publisher like my werewolf novel but the only thing worse than waiting for word is waiting while doing nothing.

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Better but Not Yet Whole Again

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So, this damnable cough that I developed following my bout of COVID-19 remains with me, albeit less intensely than before.

The new therapy has lessened the severity and number of attacks but hasn’t eliminated them.

My endurance in talking has increased and for two weeks running I was able to game master my Space Opera Role Playing Game but with a limited endurance. After about two hours the cough returns with enough force to compel me to stop the game. My players seem satisfied to go on with short runs so the game will continue.

On the writing side I am quite energized by the coming folk horror novel I am going to attempt. There are some issues here and there. Given the nature of the commune the setting limits the diversity of the characters more than I typically like but I think I can find a way to bend this to my theme so it pays off rather than hinders the project.

I am still at an utter loss for a title but that may come as I write it.

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This Writing Thing is Fun

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While I have not yet begun the words in a row prose writing that will create my American Folk horror novel, I have been hip-deep in character design and creation. This has been a blast.

Most of the novels I have written have been science-fiction set in quite distant futures. For each of those I did create characters documents, studies, and histories but there is something very different doing the same for characters that exist in the here and now. (Well, effectively the here and now. There are no supernatural entities and threats in the real world but aside from that the world of this next novel is our own world.)

That means as I create the backstory and history of the characters it’s important to know the world as it was when they were that age. Being in to 20s in the 1960s is very different than the 1970s, 1980s or 1990s.

While the historical context and its effect are fun to research and think about that hasn’t been the most enjoyable aspect of this part of the process. It’s the spontaneous evolution of the characters as I make the notes.

When I started this phase I knew some of the really big things that were going to be in various characters backstories as it compelled their natures and motivations. For me, something changes at the moment of actually making the notes in the various files. Writing the comments ignites new ideas, new aspects of the characters come to mind and insert themselves into the history. This ripples out to characters that they are associated with and changes them. The big boundary lines of what I originally envisioned act like guardrails, keeping the character enough on course that the novel will still work as intended, but now the characters can go faster, further, and higher into the storm I have created for them.

Man, I am having so much fun.

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StokerCon 2024

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StokerCon, is a premier Horror Convention where the Horror Writers Association hands out their award for excellence and achievements.

When I learned last year that 2024’s convention would be held here, San Diego California, I was stoked to attend.

Then in January of this year, after nearly 4 years of dodging the damned virus, COVID-19 caught up with me. Due to my vaccinations and boosters, it was a very mild case. It seemed hardly worth noticing.

And then the cough arrived.

No fever. No fluid in my lungs. No further infections just a deep, hard, and dry cough that refused treatment.

Weeks passed and nothing I or the doctors did stopped the coughing. If I remained silent, I did not cough but even a few sentences provoked attacks. I knew I could not attend a convention in this state. It would be fun for me or fair to the people around me who would have no way to be sure I wasn’t infected with something. I would be a walking source of anxiety, particularly for those with weakened immune systems.

Ironically the last two weeks the newest therapy seems to be working. The coughing was far less than it had been but not yet fully conquered. I elected that it would still be best for me and for others if I didn’t attend.

Instead, I ran my tabletop role playing game and discovered the limited of my recovery. A mere two and half hours into play the cough resurfaced and quite strongly. I ended the session earlier and with rest the cough subsided again but there is no doubt had I attempted to attend the convention it would have been provoked, so it turns out my decision to stay home had in the end been fully justified.

It breaks my heart that this turned out to be the right course of action. I had really wanted to hang out with fellow scribes, many much more talented than myself, but at heart I could not induced such anxiety in others.

From the reports I have read it appears that convention was a success, and I am thrilled for everyone who attended.

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