Derry, Northern Ireland

Derry, Northern Ireland
A book I'm working on is set in this town.

Thursday, October 30, 2014

Rearranging the future...

Looks like I'm not coming to California in February. I'm handling the Miami Map Fair, instead. This year, the ABAA is holding the California Antiquarian Book Fair in Oakland instead of San Francisco. At a hotel convention hall in downtown, meaning there'll be no room to do the pack & ship thing I'd been doing the last few fairs. So no need for me to be there.

On top of that, the map fair is the same weekend as California's, and since we have a number of international clients who exhibit there, someone needs to be on site. So...I've got a room set up close by and I'll be in Miami for the third time in my life. Never been much impressed with the place, but maybe I'll run into William Levy, while I'm there, and we can talk about how he was robbed of the championship on Dancing With The Stars.

I'm trying to organize my workspace for the challenge...which will only be where I work for 3 weeks. Seven days will be during my trip to Hong Kong, so I better do better than the average, up front. There's also the possibility of another job, and I'd have to go there on the that's only 22 solid days to make Bugzters a book.

Well...I do like to travel. Wonder if I'll be able to get back to London anytime soon? Or Paris ever again? Only way I could afford it is on the company dime.'s something to strive for...

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

I should've been drinking...

I wrote the first draft of Find Ray T in 8 days, while buzzed on beer. I wanted to see what would happen if I did that, so I took a week off from work and got it done from start to finish...and the basic structure hasn't changed. Spoiled actor is forced to help the mob (Mafia to start with, shifted to Russian) find a snitch who put their boss in jail and vanished into the witness protection program. Why the actor? The snitch wrote a book about his exploits and the actor played him in the movie version, then boasted he'd met the man to show him the film. Only it was all hype, and now he can't figure out what to do because no one knows where the snitch is, and the FBI won't help.

I played it for laughs as well as action and suspense from the start. Got my characters down pat. Even after workshopping it in a writer's group, it kept its shape. So I know I can do it...when I'm drinking. And maybe thats' the only way. Because I ain't gettin' it done this week, not on Wrecker or Killer Tiger or Death Tiger or whatever the hell it wants to call itself, these days. I need to be building up Bugzters in my brain for the novel-writing challenge, which starts in about 48 hours.

Oh, was a thought. I'm halfway done. Sort of. And I did start late and have to work this week. So I have all my excuses lined up nice and ready to pick from. Only I gotta stop that. No excuses. I was doing it for the wrong reason -- to get my brain clear and keep it busy till November 1st. That's not good enough to make the story come together...and I really know better. it's set. For me to write free and uncritically, I gotta have a six-pack in the fridge. Not wine; that just makes me mellow and sleepy. And I don't really like whiskey except mixed in with something where I can't taste it. Can you be like Hemingway on Amstel Light instead of Wild Turkey? We'll see what happens when I take time off around Christmas.

Hmm...maybe I'll OD on eggnog.

Tuesday, October 28, 2014


Goofy review that gets a couple of points wrong (Ed Gein was in Wisconsin, not Texas; Janet's character worked for a real estate agent, not a bank) but it's still fun...

Monday, October 27, 2014

If I only had a chin...

I've never had one. I've got one of those necks that starts at your chin and slopes in. Even pictures in high school, when I weighed 145 lbs, show me having that. I've always thought that if I do get plastic surgery, it'll be to have a firm, strong chin.

I'd love to have one like this guy's -- practically flat across the jaw line till it hits his throat. It might help me feel better about myself and my appearance. Make me look less like a terrorist.

That's what a co-worker said to me -- that I dress like a terrorist. I've never been the neatest dresser. I got lost in clothes for a couple years but then grew out of it so much, I did a 180. I've never looked as slick as I suppose I could. But it's never been that big a deal to me.

Unless someone snarks about it. Then it digs at me, for some reason. Settles into my sense of self and become one of the tools I use to beat up on myself when I'm down. I was born with some anomalies to my body structure that became more pronounced (at least, in my own mind) as I grew older, so anytime someone feels like they need to comment on my appearance, it only adds to that lack of inner self-worth.

This guy's Kirill Dowidoff, a model from Russia who's sculpted himself into near perfection. but he has the genes for it -- long limbs, clean muscles, body in proportion. It's absurd for me to compare myself to him, even to show how taut his chin is and sigh about mine. Even if I'd worked out 2 hours a day, every day, I'd never look like that. My DNA is totally different. But still...I do...and sigh at my own inadequacies.

It ain't just girls who have body issues.

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Fighting myself

Okay...I'm using my old script, Iron Cross, as the basis for another script now called Killer Tiger...and I find myself getting lost in making it as good as I can. Now normally that's not a bad idea. Logic works well, even in movies...usually. However, tossing MMA in with Vampires isn't exactly on the same level as Shakespeare, nor does it need to make much sense so long as it works within the frame of the story.

I have 22 pages done...but was aiming for 30 by the end of today. Problem is, I got lost in working out the logic of the piece. Why does this happen? Would that really work that way? What is the flow of the story? Nonsense things that really won't matter. It took me over an hour to stop trying to answer those questions and return to the idea that things happen because they happen and screw the flow.

Now I'm bouncing around the idea of changing the title to Wrecker, which is a nickname given to the main character, Derek Tighe. Initially, Killer Tiger was the play on his name...but Wrecker works so much better. Guess I just talked myself into it.

Plus I have an idea for a nice little horror piece using The Loft as its basic structure. That's another script I wrote for someone else, who then turned on me when he found god. According to him, because I'm queer I should be executed. So this is almost like a fuck you to him. Once it's done, it'll be completely different -- no demon or ouija board in it, no suicides -- and all the characters will be American and cute, even though it's post-apocalyptic.

I'm doing this because I want to see if I can write a script that will fucking sell. Doesn't have to be perfect or brilliant, just interesting enough to get someone to buy it and make it. I need to know this, because I need a new path in my life. I want the fuck out of the job I have, and I don't want to shift to another job like it just to keep making the bills; that's been my whole life up till now. I want a new direction. Period. This is the only one I can see as a possibility, right now, short of getting SSI early. So... least al this got my mind off Bugzters.

Busy work...

I'm skimming through a script and cutting back on my overt directions in it while biding my time till next Saturday. My plan is to make something that can be done nice and cheap, with MMA in it and lots of fighting, and Iron Cross fits that. I did it partly for a guy who was a kickboxing champion and wanted a script to show off his abilities in acting and kickboxing. He was gonna be the Wonder Bread version of Jean-Claude Van Damme.

It was set in Manila and had action, comedy, suspense, redemption, death, violence, you name it. There was even a woman who was good at Savate (basically French kickboxing) who helped him...and flew off into the sunset with him. The lead was ridiculously heroic and taciturn, as he should be.

Well...I got him a solid draft...and he did nothing with it. At all. I already had the feeling he was a talker...and that's what he proved to be. So I backed away from he project.

Now I'm setting it in LA, with a sidebar in Seattle that won't need an actual trip there. It's going to have drug cartels, a hero who refuses to fight in MMA again because he killed a man, who's forced to do that, again, so the villainess can get revenge on him...and maybe even vampires. I have this funny feeling if I do something goofy like that, it'll get more attention.

I started working on the idea while I waited for my car to get done. Then got knocked on my ass when they told me I'll need $1800 in transmission work on top of the $300 for the oil pan. Overall, I'd be spending in repairs more than the car is work, Blue-book. But...I got to see the underside and both the mechanics showing me this were impressed with how rust-free it was. One guy joked he'd like to buy the car off me.

Can't be done, right now. I don't have the money for any more repairs, and if I sink that much into my car, I'll have to keep it a lot longer. Which kicks the idea of an HRV out the window, even if they don't show till Spring of next year.

Typical for me.

Saturday, October 25, 2014

Canada shows some class

Too bad America didn't act this adult after 9/11...

Friday, October 24, 2014

I hate technology

Every time I turn around, I have to "update this" or "download that" in order to play videos or stream or do work or anything on my computer or my phone. I've been burning most of my work onto CD-Rs because I had them available and don't have the ready cash for another thumb drive. Now I need to upgrade Flash...even though I did it only last month. Another app bumps me off half the time, so it needs to be updated. WTF is going on? How the hell do you keep up with all the crap when there's only 24 hours in a day and you're working or sleeping for at least half of it?

This hasn't been a good day, at all...and tomorrow promises to be even worse. My car's water pump is loose and rattling and I have to get it fixed before the fan rips everything apart. And I'm damn near broke. Means digging into my tax fund.

At the same time, I'm close to quitting my job, I'm so upset. I got bawled out for trying to plan for a packing job because it's supposed to be top secret. No one said it was...but so what? The people I work for expect you to know what they're talking about when they don't spell anything out.

I'm tired. My head's going nuts. I'm not in the mood to do anything. Perfect place to be...back to whining.

I ought to start this post over, but I promised myself I'd never do that...dammit.

The man responsible for my demise...

I've seen all but a handful...and those are out of print or lost.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Chatter fills the air...

There's been lots of it about packing jobs in Chicago and LA and Germany and New England...but not one of them is concrete enough to do anything about. Which leaves me feeling jagged. I'd like to know what to expect and plan for, if I can, so I can figure out how to do the writing.

Like my trip to Hong Kong. It's a 16 hour journey, but it's more than likely my plane will have power outlets for me to plug in my laptop and write. So that may help me with the writing challenge. but everything else? Who knows?'s the 22nd...and I have 8 more days before I can begin writing, officially. I don't want to get onto anything else and lose the contact I'm building with Bugzters...but I feel like a junky going through withdrawal. I wanna dig into someone's psyche using my laptop's keys. Now. NOW.

Psycho, Kyle, qu'est-ce que c'est?