My mother is back to normal and making me crazy rearranging her hoards of boxes and crap. One can take that only for so long before screaming, "Why the hell are you keeping all this junk?! You'll never use it!" One positive note -- it's made me decide to get rid of anything I haven't used in the last two years. Period. I will NOT be like this. Another positive note -- I'm not as worried about them being on their own, and my sister's been good on her end.
Amazon is now into ignoring me, not really understanding that I won't just go away. I've already found several sites with people ranting about having been dumped by that company, not just in the US but also the UK. So it's a company-wide practice. Someone pointed out Amazon is a company and can sell or not sell whatever it wants. That's true. What they can't do it renege on agreements made and change the terms of the contract on a whim. And that's what they've done. They should also make it clear just what it is that violated their conditions, which they have yet to do...especially since the terms and conditions they published are so vague, even the Bible violates them. So they're getting trashed and have no one to blame but themselves.
Someone else said that since that reporter for Seattle's Fox affiliate labeled my book porn and it had a direct impact on my book being taken down from Amazon's site (especially since I can show it was up and available for 3 years prior to that without incident) I may have a slander or libel action against her. Since I'm a member of the ACLU, I'll contact them and ask their advice before consulting a lawyer. I have a feeling I'd have to do this in Seattle....but it might be fun to initiate a suit just to see what the network would do...as well as Amazon, since their employees would be called as witnesses. Who knows -- maybe I'll wind up replacing Roger Ailes.
Heading home tomorrow...I hope. We'll see if I can slide into Buffalo between the snow and rain storms.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Amazon's censorship is spreading to other books
I'm not sure which ones, but I've been informed of other books being banned by Amazon and editions of the books being seized back from Kindles without bothering to let the buyer know. So far as I'm concerned, that's flat out theft. Once you buy the book, you own it unless you WANT to return it. For any corporation to just take it away from you without any legal process is communist, fascistic, totalitarian or whatever you want to use to describe censorship. Anyone who buys from Amazon is supporting their actions.
I've been running too fast to do anything more than focus on family, so far. I'll be home Saturday night, if all goes well. Guess we'll see. Then next year I'm going after Amazon, and starting at the top of the fucker's food chain, not the scum-laden bottom.
I've been running too fast to do anything more than focus on family, so far. I'll be home Saturday night, if all goes well. Guess we'll see. Then next year I'm going after Amazon, and starting at the top of the fucker's food chain, not the scum-laden bottom.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
I got this from a friend of mine, today.
I was reading in my new Autobiography of Mark Twain and came upon something I wanted to share with you.
What I read is a facsimile of a corrected typewritten dictation taken from the beginning section of the book, which is entitled "Preliminary Manuscripts and Dictations, 1870 - 1905." I wish I knew where in the actual autobiography this material occurs, because on the page he goes on at length, beyond what I quote below and obviously is discussing the topic on the preceding page and following page.
Anyway, here is something to pique your interest:
"...has taught me long ago that if I tell a boy's story or anybody else's it is never worth printing; it comes from the head not the heart and always goes into the waste-basket. To be successful and worth printing, the imagined boy would have to tell his story himself and let me act merely as his amanuensis. I did not tell the "Horse's Tale," the horse told it himself through me. If he hadn't done that it wouldn't have been told at all. When a tale tells itself there is no trouble about it; there are no hesitancies, no delays, no cogitations, no attempts at invention; there is nothing to do but hold the pen and let the story talk through it and say, after its own fashion, what it desires to say.
Mr. Howells began the composite tale. He held the pen and through it the father delivered his chapter --- therefore it was well done. A lady followed Howells and furnished the old-maid sister's chapter. This lady is of high literary distinction, she is notable gifted, she has the ear of the nation and her novels and stories are among the best the country has produced, but she did not tell those tales, she merely held the pen and they told themselves--of this I am convinced. I am..."
I was reading in my new Autobiography of Mark Twain and came upon something I wanted to share with you.
What I read is a facsimile of a corrected typewritten dictation taken from the beginning section of the book, which is entitled "Preliminary Manuscripts and Dictations, 1870 - 1905." I wish I knew where in the actual autobiography this material occurs, because on the page he goes on at length, beyond what I quote below and obviously is discussing the topic on the preceding page and following page.
Anyway, here is something to pique your interest:
"...has taught me long ago that if I tell a boy's story or anybody else's it is never worth printing; it comes from the head not the heart and always goes into the waste-basket. To be successful and worth printing, the imagined boy would have to tell his story himself and let me act merely as his amanuensis. I did not tell the "Horse's Tale," the horse told it himself through me. If he hadn't done that it wouldn't have been told at all. When a tale tells itself there is no trouble about it; there are no hesitancies, no delays, no cogitations, no attempts at invention; there is nothing to do but hold the pen and let the story talk through it and say, after its own fashion, what it desires to say.
Mr. Howells began the composite tale. He held the pen and through it the father delivered his chapter --- therefore it was well done. A lady followed Howells and furnished the old-maid sister's chapter. This lady is of high literary distinction, she is notable gifted, she has the ear of the nation and her novels and stories are among the best the country has produced, but she did not tell those tales, she merely held the pen and they told themselves--of this I am convinced. I am..."
Brad is a film artist, working with light to build beauty and reality and grace. When he speaks, I (usually) listen. And this little snippet fits my idea of writing so perfectly, I could have written it myself. I'd asked for Sondheim's new book about his lyrics and plays. I may shift that to Twain's Autobiography.
Thanks, Brad. You're the best.
I'm in San Antonio missing all the bad weather up north. Hope it's gone by the 1st; I'm changing planes in Baltimore.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Quickie note about Amazon's censorship
More information and lies from the bastards.
http://xaviercarter.blogspot.com/2010/12/what-are-you-doing-jeff.html#comment-form
http://xaviercarter.blogspot.com/2010/12/what-are-you-doing-jeff.html#comment-form
Waiting in Baltimore
I read a post about atheism in another blog, which included Ricky Gervaise's explanation as to why he doesn't believe (check out TrickleDownBS link at the bottom right of my page). It got me to thinking and I spewed this out --
I believe in the concept of God, the idea there is a driving force behind the universe, a forward motion for everything that adds up to a perfect reality. It's not an old man who looks like Charleton Heston wrapped in colorful robes, but an entity that sometimes, when I'm writing, I'm able to touch and channel flashes of it ideas into my work. To me, God is creation...and I mean that not only for the universe but for the characters who appear and lead me into the stories I'm given. That's the only way I can explain some of the places I've been taken in them, places I have never been, and why I'm compelled to build these fresh new worlds on paper and offer them...and fight for them and protect them. Most religions limit God to their viewpoints, when to me God can have no viewpoint so minimal as that of a human being's. To me, his or her or its or whatever's focus is the absolute truth that is existence and which we can never understand, because even the most open of us still tries to limit it. When I pray at night, I pray for the strength to keep chasing that truth, even though I know I will never capture it, not completely, not honestly. No man is capable. And yet, still I pray.
What's interesting is, I didn't think as I wrote it...but this is how I approach faith. Not in a church, where it's all "my way or the highway" thinking, but in writing and art. I honestly despise most religions because of how 90% of the time they're misused to force others to do what they want them to do or die (be they Christian, Jew, Buddhist or Muslim). I agree completely with the teachings of Christ in Matthew, chapters 5-7. I appreciate the poetry of the Psalms, Proverbs and Song of Solomon, but the rest of the Bible is nothing but an historical reference book that includes more sex, violence, incest, double-dealing and evil than anything by Jackie Collins or Judith Krantz...and I'm fairly certain that for me, when I die it will mean going to sleep for the last time.
I'd like to believe in more -- I think it's only human nature to do that -- but I just cannot limit the concept of creation to something so inane as a human depiction of a divine creator. And yet...I could be wrong. I'm not THAT arrogant to think my way is right and no one else's can be taken seriously. But I do wish the people who call themselves Christian would actually ACT like Christians and not Paulists (who reconfigured Jesus' words into his own sick agenda) or Old Testamenters out to ram their views down everyone else's throat.
And that's my Christmas thought for the year...especially since my flight's about to be called.
I believe in the concept of God, the idea there is a driving force behind the universe, a forward motion for everything that adds up to a perfect reality. It's not an old man who looks like Charleton Heston wrapped in colorful robes, but an entity that sometimes, when I'm writing, I'm able to touch and channel flashes of it ideas into my work. To me, God is creation...and I mean that not only for the universe but for the characters who appear and lead me into the stories I'm given. That's the only way I can explain some of the places I've been taken in them, places I have never been, and why I'm compelled to build these fresh new worlds on paper and offer them...and fight for them and protect them. Most religions limit God to their viewpoints, when to me God can have no viewpoint so minimal as that of a human being's. To me, his or her or its or whatever's focus is the absolute truth that is existence and which we can never understand, because even the most open of us still tries to limit it. When I pray at night, I pray for the strength to keep chasing that truth, even though I know I will never capture it, not completely, not honestly. No man is capable. And yet, still I pray.
What's interesting is, I didn't think as I wrote it...but this is how I approach faith. Not in a church, where it's all "my way or the highway" thinking, but in writing and art. I honestly despise most religions because of how 90% of the time they're misused to force others to do what they want them to do or die (be they Christian, Jew, Buddhist or Muslim). I agree completely with the teachings of Christ in Matthew, chapters 5-7. I appreciate the poetry of the Psalms, Proverbs and Song of Solomon, but the rest of the Bible is nothing but an historical reference book that includes more sex, violence, incest, double-dealing and evil than anything by Jackie Collins or Judith Krantz...and I'm fairly certain that for me, when I die it will mean going to sleep for the last time.
I'd like to believe in more -- I think it's only human nature to do that -- but I just cannot limit the concept of creation to something so inane as a human depiction of a divine creator. And yet...I could be wrong. I'm not THAT arrogant to think my way is right and no one else's can be taken seriously. But I do wish the people who call themselves Christian would actually ACT like Christians and not Paulists (who reconfigured Jesus' words into his own sick agenda) or Old Testamenters out to ram their views down everyone else's throat.
And that's my Christmas thought for the year...especially since my flight's about to be called.
Light bloggies for a while...
...If any while I'm in Texas. No internet at ma mere's place; I have to go to the mall or Starbuck's for their WiFi. So until the New Year Comes...Merry Christmas...
Ho-ho-ho and a bottle of Jack.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Posting early, today
I got pointed to this FaceBook page --
http://www.facebook.com/amazoncensors?v=wall#!/amazoncensors
-- and it seems I'm not the only one having issues with Amazon's censorship, or its haphazard application of it. And something they reminded me of -- the sex, violence and how incest is portrayed positively at one point in the Bible (Lot's daughters getting him drunk so they can make babies) -- so even though this book violates their guidelines, do you seriously think Amazon's going to pull it?
Though one e-mail I got asked why I was concerned. The books are still available at Barnes and Noble and the publisher hasn't paid me a penny in royalties and probably never will, so it's his revenue that's been cut off. And he's got a point...but I'm a freak on the First Amendment. I got to ranting on blogs about Amazon dropping WikiLeaks from their hosting and how no one's going after the "NY Times" and the "UK Guardian" and Der Speigel" for publishing WAY more of the leaked cables than WikiLeaks has. I hate censorship, period, and have even hurt friendships over it.
There was one stupid little sitcom announced on UPN or something about 10-12 years ago called "The Secret Diary of Desmond Pfeiffer", about the goings-on in the Lincoln White House as detailed by his black British butler. Apparently, word got out that the first episode of the show had a lynching in it and the black activists became outraged and demanded the show be yanked because it was a comedy and not being treated seriously. It turned out the "lynching" was an execution in England of some (probably) white criminals and happens in the background as Desmond is heading for his ship. African Americans held protests and called the show racist, all without having seen it. I got into some arguments with black friends, online, because what they were advocating was censorship. Their response was, "Nobody's guaranteed a TV show in the First Amendment to the Constitution."
Well...yes, we are, if that is how we choose to say something. And we can pay for it (you're not guaranteed funding, THAT is true). And it hurt some relationships. And what's really silly about the whole thing is, the show was AWFUL. Lincoln was into having sex by telegraph code. Mary Lincoln was a shrill, arrogant twit. Grant was a non-stop drunk (which I hear MAY actually have been true). ALL the Anglos in the film were nut cases and freaks and vile, despicable human beings. The black butler was the only intelligent, decent person in it. And it wasn't even funny. I watched the first broadcast episode and cut it off halfway through, I couldn't take anymore. And the show was yanked after just 5-6 episodes (it would've been yanked after 2 if there hadn't been protests, it was so bad).
My points being, censorship is A. bad; B. pointless and C. backfires nine times out of ten. So it's not acceptable in any way form or fashion (so long as you are not calling for the direct harm of people, like screaming "Fire" in a crowded theater...or calling for the execution of people who've committed no crime...like some of our leaders have suggested should be done to Julian Assange).
There isn't a lot I can do against a behemoth like Amazon -- they're the proverbial 800 pound gorilla and I'm just an ant on a blade of grass -- but that don't mean I can't sting the bastard. And I'm gonna.
http://www.facebook.com/amazoncensors?v=wall#!/amazoncensors
-- and it seems I'm not the only one having issues with Amazon's censorship, or its haphazard application of it. And something they reminded me of -- the sex, violence and how incest is portrayed positively at one point in the Bible (Lot's daughters getting him drunk so they can make babies) -- so even though this book violates their guidelines, do you seriously think Amazon's going to pull it?
Though one e-mail I got asked why I was concerned. The books are still available at Barnes and Noble and the publisher hasn't paid me a penny in royalties and probably never will, so it's his revenue that's been cut off. And he's got a point...but I'm a freak on the First Amendment. I got to ranting on blogs about Amazon dropping WikiLeaks from their hosting and how no one's going after the "NY Times" and the "UK Guardian" and Der Speigel" for publishing WAY more of the leaked cables than WikiLeaks has. I hate censorship, period, and have even hurt friendships over it.
There was one stupid little sitcom announced on UPN or something about 10-12 years ago called "The Secret Diary of Desmond Pfeiffer", about the goings-on in the Lincoln White House as detailed by his black British butler. Apparently, word got out that the first episode of the show had a lynching in it and the black activists became outraged and demanded the show be yanked because it was a comedy and not being treated seriously. It turned out the "lynching" was an execution in England of some (probably) white criminals and happens in the background as Desmond is heading for his ship. African Americans held protests and called the show racist, all without having seen it. I got into some arguments with black friends, online, because what they were advocating was censorship. Their response was, "Nobody's guaranteed a TV show in the First Amendment to the Constitution."
Well...yes, we are, if that is how we choose to say something. And we can pay for it (you're not guaranteed funding, THAT is true). And it hurt some relationships. And what's really silly about the whole thing is, the show was AWFUL. Lincoln was into having sex by telegraph code. Mary Lincoln was a shrill, arrogant twit. Grant was a non-stop drunk (which I hear MAY actually have been true). ALL the Anglos in the film were nut cases and freaks and vile, despicable human beings. The black butler was the only intelligent, decent person in it. And it wasn't even funny. I watched the first broadcast episode and cut it off halfway through, I couldn't take anymore. And the show was yanked after just 5-6 episodes (it would've been yanked after 2 if there hadn't been protests, it was so bad).
My points being, censorship is A. bad; B. pointless and C. backfires nine times out of ten. So it's not acceptable in any way form or fashion (so long as you are not calling for the direct harm of people, like screaming "Fire" in a crowded theater...or calling for the execution of people who've committed no crime...like some of our leaders have suggested should be done to Julian Assange).
There isn't a lot I can do against a behemoth like Amazon -- they're the proverbial 800 pound gorilla and I'm just an ant on a blade of grass -- but that don't mean I can't sting the bastard. And I'm gonna.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Boycott Amazon.com
They removed another one of my books from their list and are still ignoring me. Buy from Borders.com or Barnes & Noble or ANYBODY ELSE.
That's it for the day. I'm pissed and not having fun with Prednisone.
UPDATE:
Okay, Amazon and I are having at it. Here's the response I FINALLY got from them --
From: Amazon DTP Executive Customer Relations <ecr-dtp@amazon.com>
To: "kyle_sullivan@sbcglobal.net"
Sent: Wed, December 22, 2010 5:44:07 PM
Subject: Re: Your Kindle Titles
Hello Kyle,
I'm S----- D--- of Amazon's Kindle Self-Publishing (DTP) Executive Customer Relations. Your concerns about the recent removal of your titles were brought to my attention for follow-up.
We notified your publisher of the removal of your books on December 7. I've included a copy of that message below for your reference, and I hope this clarifies what happened. I'm sorry for the previous misinformation we provided that titles are only removed at the request of a publisher. In this case, the removal was based on our decision.
If you have any concerns, you may reach me at ecr-dtp@amazon.com.
----------------------------
Dear Publisher,
We are contacting you regarding the following DTP titles that you have submitted for sale in our Kindle store:
How To Rape A Straight Guy (ASIN B003ZYFCA6)
Rape In Holding Cell 6 (ASIN B00403N14A)
During our review process, we found that your titles contain content that is in violation of our content guidelines. As a result, we have removed the books from our store.
Please note that if you continue to submit content that violates our content guidelines, we may conduct a general review of your account. Actions resulting from such a review could result in a termination of your account.
You may reply to title-submission@amazon.com if, after reading our content guidelines, you believe this decision has been made in error.
Best regards,
Amazon.com
http://www.amazon.com
----------------------------
Regards,
Amazon Kindle Self Publishing (DTP)
http://dtp.amazon.com/
That's it for the day. I'm pissed and not having fun with Prednisone.
UPDATE:
Okay, Amazon and I are having at it. Here's the response I FINALLY got from them --
From: Amazon DTP Executive Customer Relations <ecr-dtp@amazon.com>
To: "kyle_sullivan@sbcglobal.net"
Sent: Wed, December 22, 2010 5:44:07 PM
Subject: Re: Your Kindle Titles
Hello Kyle,
I'm S----- D--- of Amazon's Kindle Self-Publishing (DTP) Executive Customer Relations. Your concerns about the recent removal of your titles were brought to my attention for follow-up.
We notified your publisher of the removal of your books on December 7. I've included a copy of that message below for your reference, and I hope this clarifies what happened. I'm sorry for the previous misinformation we provided that titles are only removed at the request of a publisher. In this case, the removal was based on our decision.
If you have any concerns, you may reach me at ecr-dtp@amazon.com.
----------------------------
Dear Publisher,
We are contacting you regarding the following DTP titles that you have submitted for sale in our Kindle store:
How To Rape A Straight Guy (ASIN B003ZYFCA6)
Rape In Holding Cell 6 (ASIN B00403N14A)
During our review process, we found that your titles contain content that is in violation of our content guidelines. As a result, we have removed the books from our store.
Please note that if you continue to submit content that violates our content guidelines, we may conduct a general review of your account. Actions resulting from such a review could result in a termination of your account.
You may reply to title-submission@amazon.com if, after reading our content guidelines, you believe this decision has been made in error.
Best regards,
Amazon.com
http://www.amazon.com
----------------------------
Regards,
Amazon Kindle Self Publishing (DTP)
http://dtp.amazon.com/
Here's what I wrote back --
Dear S------,
I'm at a loss as to understand how my books violated your content guidelines. They are not pornographic and have solid stories and meaning behind them. The sex in them is not that much more detailed than what you find in Jackie Collins' and Judith Krantz's novels, all of which can be found in a library. Also, you carry items that celebrate the torture and murder of women (see "Saw2" "Hostel 2" (oops) where a naked female is strung upside down and butchered so her blood can bathe another naked female lying under her) and the gleeful slaughter of human beings ("American Psycho", for example).
"How To Rape A Straight Guy" has a very provocative title, yes, and its narrator, Curt, is a very in-your-face sort of guy who thinks he can get even with the world by assaulting men. But it winds up hurting innocent people and destroying him. I even have a moment of foreshadowing in it, where Curt as a 6-year-old boy watches a cousin of his torture a dog until it bites him, then the boy's father kills the dog and goes off to buy another one. The moral of the whole book being, if you treat a man like a dog his whole life, you shouldn't be surprised if he bites you. And the sad reality is, when he finally does bite back, he's the one who's punished. Does that sound like porn?
"Rape In Holding Cell 6", both volumes, is about corruption in the judicial system, and its main character, Antony, is investigating the brutal rape and murder of his lover in the county jail. He finds a legal and political system that thinks it can get away with anything and nearly drives himself insane in his quest for revenge, a quest that threatens to harm the innocent as well as the guilty as he becomes exactly what he hates. Does that sound like porn?
You pulled my titles because that reporter at the Fox affiliate labeled my book pornography. If you actually HAD done your research, you'd see that they do not fall under that category. I can see them being viewed as erotica because the sex is very intense...and not at all sugar-coated...but that's it. And they were on Amazon's website being offered for sale for years without a problem. So will you also be removing other books once viewed as porn, like "Ulysses" and "Henry and June" and "Lolita"? Will you continue to offer DVDs of movies that depict the torture and rape of women, like "Straw Dogs" and "A Clockwork Orange"?
I ask that Amazon reconsider this. My books are not pornography and should never have been labeled as such. According to the Supreme Court, "in Miller v. California , 413 U.S. 15 (1973) (The basic guidelines for the trier of fact must be: (a) whether "the average person, applying contemporary community standards" would find that the work, taken as a whole, appeals to the prurient interest, Roth, supra, at 489, (b) whether the work depicts or describes, in a patently offensive way, sexual conduct specifically defined by the applicable state law, and (c) whether the work, taken as a whole, lacks serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value." (Emphasis added.)
Please have your panel look further into the matter and reconsider your actions.
Thank you,
Kyle Michel Sullivan
It's coming across very angrily, I know, but I think I made my point as politely as I could. Whether or not they'll agree to it is another story. But considering they dumped WikiLeaks because they had the nerve to publish cables that had been leaked to them (and you notice, no one's going after the NY Times or Der Speigel or the UK Guardian for publishing more than twice as many cables as WikiLeaks has), I seriously doubt I've got a snowball's chance in hell of getting them to change their minds.
I'm at a loss as to understand how my books violated your content guidelines. They are not pornographic and have solid stories and meaning behind them. The sex in them is not that much more detailed than what you find in Jackie Collins' and Judith Krantz's novels, all of which can be found in a library. Also, you carry items that celebrate the torture and murder of women (see "
"How To Rape A Straight Guy" has a very provocative title, yes, and its narrator, Curt, is a very in-your-face sort of guy who thinks he can get even with the world by assaulting men. But it winds up hurting innocent people and destroying him. I even have a moment of foreshadowing in it, where Curt as a 6-year-old boy watches a cousin of his torture a dog until it bites him, then the boy's father kills the dog and goes off to buy another one. The moral of the whole book being, if you treat a man like a dog his whole life, you shouldn't be surprised if he bites you. And the sad reality is, when he finally does bite back, he's the one who's punished. Does that sound like porn?
"Rape In Holding Cell 6", both volumes, is about corruption in the judicial system, and its main character, Antony, is investigating the brutal rape and murder of his lover in the county jail. He finds a legal and political system that thinks it can get away with anything and nearly drives himself insane in his quest for revenge, a quest that threatens to harm the innocent as well as the guilty as he becomes exactly what he hates. Does that sound like porn?
You pulled my titles because that reporter at the Fox affiliate labeled my book pornography. If you actually HAD done your research, you'd see that they do not fall under that category. I can see them being viewed as erotica because the sex is very intense...and not at all sugar-coated...but that's it. And they were on Amazon's website being offered for sale for years without a problem. So will you also be removing other books once viewed as porn, like "Ulysses" and "Henry and June" and "Lolita"? Will you continue to offer DVDs of movies that depict the torture and rape of women, like "Straw Dogs" and "A Clockwork Orange"?
I ask that Amazon reconsider this. My books are not pornography and should never have been labeled as such. According to the Supreme Court, "in Miller v. California , 413 U.S. 15 (1973) (The basic guidelines for the trier of fact must be: (a) whether "the average person, applying contemporary community standards" would find that the work, taken as a whole, appeals to the prurient interest, Roth, supra, at 489, (b) whether the work depicts or describes, in a patently offensive way, sexual conduct specifically defined by the applicable state law, and (c) whether the work, taken as a whole, lacks serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value." (Emphasis added.)
Please have your panel look further into the matter and reconsider your actions.
Thank you,
Kyle Michel Sullivan
And just to let you know -- I got NO problem comparing my writing to James Joyce, Henry Miller and Vladimir Nabokov. That's just how arrogant I am. ;)
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Clipping along
More done on "The Lyons' Den" to the point I've got a hundred pages left to rework. It's up over 52K and I'm happy with it, so far. I even found a couple of continuity errors and reworked them to better suit the building chaos in the night and in Daniel's mind.
The rash kept getting worse so I went to an urgent care facility to have it checked...and I got in and out in less than half an hour. I've never had that happen before. All nice and neat and very polite. And it sure is an allergy, but apparently the weather is exacerbating it, so the doctor (who looked like she was the female version of "Doogie Howser") put me on Prednisone and a nice antihistamine for a week. Good thing I'm just going to Texas; I'll be nice and mellow while I'm there. I can already see a difference after the first dose of each -- though one possible side-effect is I may wind up looking like The Elephant Man. Wouldn't take much.
I'm seeing more and more that I need to add a strong line of black Irish humor to "Place of Safety." Can that be done and still have a touch of innocence to it? I wonder.
Ah...the Zertec is kicking in, good. Time for bath and bed.
The rash kept getting worse so I went to an urgent care facility to have it checked...and I got in and out in less than half an hour. I've never had that happen before. All nice and neat and very polite. And it sure is an allergy, but apparently the weather is exacerbating it, so the doctor (who looked like she was the female version of "Doogie Howser") put me on Prednisone and a nice antihistamine for a week. Good thing I'm just going to Texas; I'll be nice and mellow while I'm there. I can already see a difference after the first dose of each -- though one possible side-effect is I may wind up looking like The Elephant Man. Wouldn't take much.
I'm seeing more and more that I need to add a strong line of black Irish humor to "Place of Safety." Can that be done and still have a touch of innocence to it? I wonder.
Ah...the Zertec is kicking in, good. Time for bath and bed.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Hotel soaps kill
Man, do they ever. I was using some shampoo from the Hampton Inn because it had a conditioner in it, and my scalp is just about to come off, it's so tender. Then the irritation made its way down my skin, here and there, so I now look like I'm a leper. Unless it IS leprosy. Which will also kill any potential partners of the romantic kind from seeing me as mating material. I'm using a Cortisone cream to fight it, now, and the bumps can't decide if they want to stay or go or just connect in that social network manner to wreak more havoc. From now on, I'm taking my own shampoo and soaps with me. Who knew I was such a delicate flower?
I've been working on LD and now have a good 119 pages out of 246. New chapter breaks and details added some length to it -- 51,500 wordage now -- and Daniel and Ace have an "Odd Couple" type of relationship. I want to get it off to people for feed back before Christmas, since I'll be in San Antonio and busy as hell.
Still no word back from Amazon. The scum.
It's late. I'm getting irritable. I've got a hankering for "County Line's" amazing mushrooms. I may make a pilgrimage to Austin just for those.
I've been working on LD and now have a good 119 pages out of 246. New chapter breaks and details added some length to it -- 51,500 wordage now -- and Daniel and Ace have an "Odd Couple" type of relationship. I want to get it off to people for feed back before Christmas, since I'll be in San Antonio and busy as hell.
Still no word back from Amazon. The scum.
It's late. I'm getting irritable. I've got a hankering for "County Line's" amazing mushrooms. I may make a pilgrimage to Austin just for those.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Quickie update
LD has begun to rework itself, with me shifting bits around and making things clearer and cleaner...at least, I hope so. Moving some bits farther back in the story have let me be lighter with Daniel in the opening, and it's moving forward a lot better. I've got 55 pages out of 240 that I'm happy with.
No word as to when "Bobby Carapisi 3" will be published. Apparently they have another book ahead of mine and the guy working on them has gone home for Christmas. So it'll be after the first of the year, for sure. Oh, well...at least Amazon's crap hasn't spilled over to that set of books.
Yet.
No word as to when "Bobby Carapisi 3" will be published. Apparently they have another book ahead of mine and the guy working on them has gone home for Christmas. So it'll be after the first of the year, for sure. Oh, well...at least Amazon's crap hasn't spilled over to that set of books.
Yet.
Nothin' much to say
Did my first sketch in a year. Nothing major, just a quickie of an apparel designer whose blog I follow (check out House Of Vader in my links...and that NSFW really does mean Not Suitable For Work) because he's so outrageous and has the proper attitude about himself. But it's nice to know I can still do it. I used a set of colored pens a friend of mine gave me. Messy things (I've got dabs of blue on my keyboard and mouse) but they worked out well.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
The hell with Amazon
I've added a link to my list that takes you straight to Barnes & Noble (http://productsearch.barnesandnoble.com/search/results.aspx?ATH=Kyle+Sullivan&STORE=BOOK) where they offer all my books in paperback and a couple of them in their own version of Kindle, "Nook." I'm not buying anything from Amazon, again, and a friend of mine in LA has said he won't either. Same for a cousin of mine. I know Amazon won't care; they're too damn big to. But they have proven over and over they are an enemy of freedom of speech and are unworthy of my business.
I just finished the new chapter one of "The Lyons' Den" and after the first of the year, I'll have it ready for feedback. I hope people are still willing to help me make this book as good as it can be. It'll be a quick read -- one of my shortest books at barely over 50K in wordage -- and I want it to be as fun as possible. Then I'll offer it to publishers like Star Books and see what happens. Maybe I'll even start my own site up and offer it in downloads. I don't know yet. I'm tired of dealing with twits who think they can tell you what to think, say or do even as they refuse to pay you anything like they said they would...and there are so many options available to let you avoid that.
Long live the inter-web. And just for the hell of it...
Yip, yip, yip, HOWWWLLLLLLLL.
UPDATE: I also finished chapter 2.
So much for being happy and carefree
Blew that out of the water in nothing flat. I've got bigfoot moved in upstairs above me. The Chinese food I ate is not settling well, at all. I may be faced with a 4 week packing job back in NYC in a storage facility, then I'm flying to San Francisco to work the California Book Fair and hopping down to Los Angeles to view another possible packing job. I don't mind the work and sort of enjoy the travel, plus it's nice to be able to pay my bills, but it does leave me tired and that's proving to have consequences.
I've lost my camera and THINK I left it on the plane, when I came back from NYC. I was beat and had it out to take a couple shots over the city then apparently put it in the seat back and forgot it. Jet Blue called asking me if I'd "left something behind" but I didn't think I had...until I went looking for it the next day to download the photos and it's nowhere to be found. Now Jet Blue says they don't have it and won't tell me what it is they thought I left behind. Which means someone at that airline just got themselves a nice little Nikon CoolPix for fucking Christmas.
I'm also caught up in some mess with my mother's side of the family in general, dealing with something about mineral rights to the land my grandmother grew up on in Texas and papers that need to be signed and lawyers bouncing around and crap. Apparently someone thinks there's a lot of money involved, but if there is I'd be shocked. Still, it's bringing out the unpleasant in various relatives and I've seen that, before, with a different side of my family...and I'd rather avoid it. This nonsense never turns out nice. But too late; when I get to San Antonio, next week, we're having a conference call between family in Pennsylvania and all over Texas. A fucking conference call. Jesus.
I've realized I've front loaded too much into the first chapter of LD and need to redistribute it. Having Ace chatter is fun but he can't go on TOO long before the story begins. I just have to figure out what should go where, and fortunately I had done some repetition throughout the story so have places these details can flow into. I want to sell this one...or get it published with someone who'll actually pay me royalties and not keep lying to me. What's sad is, the publisher who let Amazon take my books off its site has now contradicted the lies he told me earlier. That's the problem with lying -- you have to remember what you said to whom because people tend to have memories.
What's really sad is how much this hurts. I bent over backwards to help that bastard and have been really easy about the money he owes me, believing him when he says he can't pay it...and he can't even be honest with me?! Shit.
See? "Happy and carefree" are not part of my genetic makeup. I've got too much ennui from the French side, too much gloom and bleakness from the Norwegian side and not enough of the drunk from the Irish side. If I ever get to meet the source of my screwed up DNA, we gots some things to settle.
I've lost my camera and THINK I left it on the plane, when I came back from NYC. I was beat and had it out to take a couple shots over the city then apparently put it in the seat back and forgot it. Jet Blue called asking me if I'd "left something behind" but I didn't think I had...until I went looking for it the next day to download the photos and it's nowhere to be found. Now Jet Blue says they don't have it and won't tell me what it is they thought I left behind. Which means someone at that airline just got themselves a nice little Nikon CoolPix for fucking Christmas.
I'm also caught up in some mess with my mother's side of the family in general, dealing with something about mineral rights to the land my grandmother grew up on in Texas and papers that need to be signed and lawyers bouncing around and crap. Apparently someone thinks there's a lot of money involved, but if there is I'd be shocked. Still, it's bringing out the unpleasant in various relatives and I've seen that, before, with a different side of my family...and I'd rather avoid it. This nonsense never turns out nice. But too late; when I get to San Antonio, next week, we're having a conference call between family in Pennsylvania and all over Texas. A fucking conference call. Jesus.
I've realized I've front loaded too much into the first chapter of LD and need to redistribute it. Having Ace chatter is fun but he can't go on TOO long before the story begins. I just have to figure out what should go where, and fortunately I had done some repetition throughout the story so have places these details can flow into. I want to sell this one...or get it published with someone who'll actually pay me royalties and not keep lying to me. What's sad is, the publisher who let Amazon take my books off its site has now contradicted the lies he told me earlier. That's the problem with lying -- you have to remember what you said to whom because people tend to have memories.
What's really sad is how much this hurts. I bent over backwards to help that bastard and have been really easy about the money he owes me, believing him when he says he can't pay it...and he can't even be honest with me?! Shit.
See? "Happy and carefree" are not part of my genetic makeup. I've got too much ennui from the French side, too much gloom and bleakness from the Norwegian side and not enough of the drunk from the Irish side. If I ever get to meet the source of my screwed up DNA, we gots some things to settle.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Amazon's got attitude
A friend of mine contacted them asking why they'd pulled 2 of my books and was told it was none of his business. They still haven't given me an explanation, even though I've now let them know I saw the news segment that highlighted HTRASG. I mean, the book was available and selling for 3 years before this with just one hiccup when it got un-ranked for a couple weeks along with thousands of other books that're gay-based. Now it's like I'm toxic.
Hell, I don't even know how many copies I've sold, so I can't leverage that; my sales report hasn't been updated since last December. Doesn't help that the book's link on Nazca Plains still leads to Amazon's page instead of Barnes & Noble's or Buy.com, so it comes up as unavailable. Looks like I've been dumped on by the big bastards and shrugged off by the little one.
When I think of how much I've done for that fucking publisher...
I'm a fucking idiot. No other way to fucking put it.
Hell, I don't even know how many copies I've sold, so I can't leverage that; my sales report hasn't been updated since last December. Doesn't help that the book's link on Nazca Plains still leads to Amazon's page instead of Barnes & Noble's or Buy.com, so it comes up as unavailable. Looks like I've been dumped on by the big bastards and shrugged off by the little one.
When I think of how much I've done for that fucking publisher...
I'm a fucking idiot. No other way to fucking put it.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
"The Dog Days Are Over"
My favorite song, at the moment. By the glorious Florence and the Machine. I love the build to it and the rhythms it manipulates. If the rest of the album is this good, I may buy it...and that's a big deal for me; I very rarely buy CDs. (But I won't buy it from Amazon, not till they tell me why they dropped two of my books.)
I first heard it on a rock station out of Toronto that broadcasts from the CN Tower. I listen to them on the way home from work (en route to work, the station is hijacked by a couple of idiots who love the sound of their own voices nattering over nonsense more than music so I now listen to classical in the mornings).
Right now, I have three of Loreena McKinnitt's albums. Her voice is bewitching...a Gaelic mirror to David Gahan's voice (he of Depeche Mode fame). I heard her work on Pandora.
I flew back from NYC on an earlier flight than I'd planned for, thinking I could get home and settled before dark, but a snowstorm kept us circling the airport for 45 minutes and by the time we landed night was settling in. I was so beat, I zoned and forgot to do my daily blog. I DID start inputting changes to "The Lyons' Den" -- stuff I'd written onto a printed copy. But as per my usual practice, I'm changing my changes as I input them and making other changes and doing a third draft as I input the second draft.
"Porno Manifesto" has a new fan living in Phoenix. He even thinks Alec is charming in an "Anti-social and Schizoid Personality Disorder" sort of way. I am most honored and pleased.
I first heard it on a rock station out of Toronto that broadcasts from the CN Tower. I listen to them on the way home from work (en route to work, the station is hijacked by a couple of idiots who love the sound of their own voices nattering over nonsense more than music so I now listen to classical in the mornings).
Right now, I have three of Loreena McKinnitt's albums. Her voice is bewitching...a Gaelic mirror to David Gahan's voice (he of Depeche Mode fame). I heard her work on Pandora.
I flew back from NYC on an earlier flight than I'd planned for, thinking I could get home and settled before dark, but a snowstorm kept us circling the airport for 45 minutes and by the time we landed night was settling in. I was so beat, I zoned and forgot to do my daily blog. I DID start inputting changes to "The Lyons' Den" -- stuff I'd written onto a printed copy. But as per my usual practice, I'm changing my changes as I input them and making other changes and doing a third draft as I input the second draft.
"Porno Manifesto" has a new fan living in Phoenix. He even thinks Alec is charming in an "Anti-social and Schizoid Personality Disorder" sort of way. I am most honored and pleased.
Monday, December 13, 2010
First snow, NYC Style
Light flurries glisten and gleam in the city's lights, tiny flakes of ice flowing gently to the pavement as occasional breezes whip up to whisper them across black asphalt and yellow taxis. Their dance in the wind brings memories of sand cascading along a narrow strip of beach, joyful at your presence and rushing up to make its greeting. "Come and play. Come and laugh. Peace builds from surrender to the magic of my existence, whether I tickle your nose or your toes, and freedom stems from the moment where your spirit joins with mine."
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Note to self...
...Don't let others set your itinerary. It only leads to silly problems that wind up making things more difficult. Like for instance, staying at a hotel in Yonkers to save a few bucks when you're working in mid-town Manhattan. Yes, there's a train straight from Yonkers to Grand Central Station...and it costs $7-9 each way, depending on time of day. But the station is three miles from the hotel and the hotel shuttle is...oh, let's call it sporadic. AND...you have to get up an hour earlier to catch it than you would if you were staying in, oh, mid-town Manhattan.
Fortunately, the two people who set the itinerary (the owners of the company I work for) were with me and saw just how silly it was, and now we're ensconced in a hotel in...mid-town Manhattan. That is a 15-20 minute walk for where we need to be. There wasn't much I could say; they're the ones paying for everything. And I didn't know, myself, just how awkward it would be getting to the job...or just how difficult this job would be, so I'm glad they were along. But sometimes people work at making things harder than they need to be (not me...no...never...not in a million years...seriously).
So I'm here until Tuesday or Wednesday in a city that has some amazingly good-looking guys. And the owners are off having a beer and discussing things. I'm across the street from a Chipotle so just had a couple of tacos and a DP and I'm happy. I'm dog tired but that's par for the course.
I haven't had time to think about LD or POS or anything. All I've done is send Amazon another e-mail asking about my books. My last one got "forwarded to the correct department" so God knows when I'll head from them.
Time to go soak in a tub. I wonder if they bubble bath?
Fortunately, the two people who set the itinerary (the owners of the company I work for) were with me and saw just how silly it was, and now we're ensconced in a hotel in...mid-town Manhattan. That is a 15-20 minute walk for where we need to be. There wasn't much I could say; they're the ones paying for everything. And I didn't know, myself, just how awkward it would be getting to the job...or just how difficult this job would be, so I'm glad they were along. But sometimes people work at making things harder than they need to be (not me...no...never...not in a million years...seriously).
So I'm here until Tuesday or Wednesday in a city that has some amazingly good-looking guys. And the owners are off having a beer and discussing things. I'm across the street from a Chipotle so just had a couple of tacos and a DP and I'm happy. I'm dog tired but that's par for the course.
I haven't had time to think about LD or POS or anything. All I've done is send Amazon another e-mail asking about my books. My last one got "forwarded to the correct department" so God knows when I'll head from them.
Time to go soak in a tub. I wonder if they bubble bath?
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Planning on a plan of action
I was thinking I'd write to the bitch who labeled my books porn, since she clearly doesn't know what the hell she's talking about...but the fact is, she's not the one who got them dropped. Amazon is. And now they won't even e-mail me on my queries as to why they did it. So they're the ones in the crosshairs, now, buddy. Lie to me that you don't withdraw books when I know you've done that to 2 of mine.
But I can't do anything till I'm back to Buffalo...and it looks like I've been extended a day down here. there's a lot more to do than we expected. We'll have to see how tomorrow goes. If it's anything like today, I'll be dead meat by the time Wednesday runs around.
But I can't do anything till I'm back to Buffalo...and it looks like I've been extended a day down here. there's a lot more to do than we expected. We'll have to see how tomorrow goes. If it's anything like today, I'll be dead meat by the time Wednesday runs around.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Linkage
If you want to see someone in action who had nothing better to do with her time than find crap to bitch about, here's the link.
http://www.q13fox.com/news/kcpq-amazon-sells-sex-toys-despite-111210,0,6717092.story
I'm beat and have to be up early, so nothing more to post.
http://www.q13fox.com/news/kcpq-amazon-sells-sex-toys-despite-111210,0,6717092.story
I'm beat and have to be up early, so nothing more to post.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
I've achieved infamy
Got a better idea of why my books were dropped by Amazon. It seems a few months ago it was discovered a man in Colorado had self-published a book through Amazon about how to be a pedophile and it garnered national attention. Being one of those people who thinks pedophiles are diseased and to be avoided, and because I haven't been watching the news due to being so sick of what's happening in Washington thanks to Obama's cowardice, I hadn't heard anything about it. Anyway, his book was removed and he's currently under police protection because he's getting death threats even though, technically speaking, he hadn't broken any laws. Hmph, the cops'll protect a creep writing about having sex with children but they run hammer and tongs after a guy revealing corruption in our government. The irony is too obscene.
So...about a month ago, a "reporter" for the Seattle Fox affiliate checked Amazon's online catalog to see if the book had really been removed, and discovered they carry a LOT of erotica (and, apparently, sex toys). She did a report on it...and guess which book lead the way? "How To Rape A Straight Guy." I guess that explains why there was a sudden spike in sales.
Well, Amazon got spooked and pulled it along with the second volume of "Rape In Holding Cell 6" and the kindle of both HTRASG and RIHC6, v1. And then they lied to me and said they don't do that sort of thing. That the publisher pulled it. He had a big laugh at that.
However, he also says I should lay low until this blows over and even wants me to remove some of the other posts I made about the situation. Problem is, that won't work.
1. It makes me look like I'm ashamed of my books and I am not. HTRASG is a strong indictment of society's casual cruelty towards people it deems unworthy, and it shows what happens when you treat a man like a dog his whole life -- you wind up betting bitten. RIHC6 deals with corruption in the criminal "justice" system that is so bad, people are getting away with murder...even as it points out that revenge only leads to madness.
2. It's already out there. If someone wants to find my writings online, they can. Google my name and my books come up. So even if I wanted to run and hide, I couldn't. Not for long. And then it would look a hundred times worse than it does now.
Besides, you can still get HTRASG through Barnes & Noble and other places; those come up on Google, too. And my other books -- Porno Manifesto and Bobby Carapisi -- are still up, as is the paperback of RIHC6v1.
Now here I am -- fulfilling Andy Warhol's famous saying. Be interesting to see what happens next.
So...about a month ago, a "reporter" for the Seattle Fox affiliate checked Amazon's online catalog to see if the book had really been removed, and discovered they carry a LOT of erotica (and, apparently, sex toys). She did a report on it...and guess which book lead the way? "How To Rape A Straight Guy." I guess that explains why there was a sudden spike in sales.
Well, Amazon got spooked and pulled it along with the second volume of "Rape In Holding Cell 6" and the kindle of both HTRASG and RIHC6, v1. And then they lied to me and said they don't do that sort of thing. That the publisher pulled it. He had a big laugh at that.
However, he also says I should lay low until this blows over and even wants me to remove some of the other posts I made about the situation. Problem is, that won't work.
1. It makes me look like I'm ashamed of my books and I am not. HTRASG is a strong indictment of society's casual cruelty towards people it deems unworthy, and it shows what happens when you treat a man like a dog his whole life -- you wind up betting bitten. RIHC6 deals with corruption in the criminal "justice" system that is so bad, people are getting away with murder...even as it points out that revenge only leads to madness.
2. It's already out there. If someone wants to find my writings online, they can. Google my name and my books come up. So even if I wanted to run and hide, I couldn't. Not for long. And then it would look a hundred times worse than it does now.
Besides, you can still get HTRASG through Barnes & Noble and other places; those come up on Google, too. And my other books -- Porno Manifesto and Bobby Carapisi -- are still up, as is the paperback of RIHC6v1.
Now here I am -- fulfilling Andy Warhol's famous saying. Be interesting to see what happens next.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Amazon dropped two books and two Kindles
Two of my books -- "How To Rape A Straight Guy" and "Rape In Holding Cell 6, volume 2" -- have been taken off Amazon's list. So have the Kindle editions of HTRASG and RIHC6,v1. Word I'm getting is that 1 (one) person complained about the content, but that information is second hand. I can't get the bastards at Amazon to respond to me. The publisher is looking into it.
This isn't the first time some twit at Amazon yanked my book off the market, and they wound up putting it back up after a bit of legal action...as in breach of contract. Guess we'll go through that, again. But as of now, I'm too pissed off to continue.
Bastards.
This isn't the first time some twit at Amazon yanked my book off the market, and they wound up putting it back up after a bit of legal action...as in breach of contract. Guess we'll go through that, again. But as of now, I'm too pissed off to continue.
Bastards.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Back to the NYC
Thursday I'm en route back to NYC to do a packing job for an auction house. I spent the last couple days making some passepartouts (protective folders to hold documents and letters) and enjoying the non-stop snow. I know I'm supposed to be irritated by it, but I'm finding I like the feeling of it. I know if I had to work outside or drive around in it a lot I'd probably feel differently, but as of now it's still a wondrous occasion.
Anyway, I return to the great white way Monday, if all goes well. We'll see. I'm staying in Yonkers, for some reason (I didn't make the accommodations, this time) which will be an adventure. I think.
My mind is drifting back to sketching, lately. I finished a rework of LD and will probably input it once I get back from NYC, but I'm getting the bug to work up a piece of art. It's been so long since I've done anything serious in that. Jeez, almost 2 years. Time vanishes when you don't pay attention, doesn't it?
I would love to comment on Obama caving to the GOP, again, but bitchin' and whinin' are banned, dammit.
I did find out I cannot cook a steak. Burgers, great. All sorts of casseroles and veggies, no problem. But I bought a nice NY Cut of steak and marinated it in Teriyaki Sauce and seared it in a frying pan and damn near charcoaled it. I think I should have done the broiling thing. Maybe next time.
No word on when "Bobby Carapisi 3" is coming out, yet. Looks like it will be after the New Year.
Anyway, I return to the great white way Monday, if all goes well. We'll see. I'm staying in Yonkers, for some reason (I didn't make the accommodations, this time) which will be an adventure. I think.
My mind is drifting back to sketching, lately. I finished a rework of LD and will probably input it once I get back from NYC, but I'm getting the bug to work up a piece of art. It's been so long since I've done anything serious in that. Jeez, almost 2 years. Time vanishes when you don't pay attention, doesn't it?
I would love to comment on Obama caving to the GOP, again, but bitchin' and whinin' are banned, dammit.
I did find out I cannot cook a steak. Burgers, great. All sorts of casseroles and veggies, no problem. But I bought a nice NY Cut of steak and marinated it in Teriyaki Sauce and seared it in a frying pan and damn near charcoaled it. I think I should have done the broiling thing. Maybe next time.
No word on when "Bobby Carapisi 3" is coming out, yet. Looks like it will be after the New Year.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Snow, snow, snow
That's what it did all day and is still doing. I brushed 4" off my car this morning; I dug out of 6" more this evening. Should be interesting to see how much there is by tomorrow. It was "fun" to drive in. The last time I did this much snow during a commute was in Detroit, and that was mainly rural-suburbia and I had a huge Pontiac Grand Am to slog through the ice with. This time, it's my little Honda...but it didn't seem to mind the mush and slow going. Of course, I didn't make it out of second gear going home.
The one sour note? I was going to buy some ground beef at this butcher's near me but he'd closed early. Dammit. I was planning to make hash for dinner.
Ah...but that reminds me -- cheese soup.
2 cans of Campbell's Cheddar Cheese soup concentrate (I know, I'm cheating, but I don't care)
2 large tomatoes, diced
4 scallions diced (including the green shoots)
1 cup Cheddar Cheese, shredded
1 cup Monterrey Jack Cheese, shredded
1 tablespoon butter
Mix all the ingredients together along with two soup cans of water and heat over a medium flame, stirring constantly until at a boil. Then lower heat to a simmer and let cook for ten minutes, stirring things up, every minute. Serve with crackers.
I've also added a couple tablespoons of Philadelphia Cream Cheese to the mix, but it doesn't melt well with everything else and you're left with white dots in the soup that sort of look unappetizing, even thought they taste great. Another interesting thing to add is Velveeta. It also shifts the flavor a little.
Of course, this is VERY rich and will kill any diet you're on...so no dessert if you make this. Unless I AM taking on the mantle of Marie Callendar, in which case it's all fattening so don't worry about it...and you should have a slice of apple pie to top the meal off.
Apple pie. DAMN that sounds good.
The one sour note? I was going to buy some ground beef at this butcher's near me but he'd closed early. Dammit. I was planning to make hash for dinner.
Ah...but that reminds me -- cheese soup.
2 cans of Campbell's Cheddar Cheese soup concentrate (I know, I'm cheating, but I don't care)
2 large tomatoes, diced
4 scallions diced (including the green shoots)
1 cup Cheddar Cheese, shredded
1 cup Monterrey Jack Cheese, shredded
1 tablespoon butter
Mix all the ingredients together along with two soup cans of water and heat over a medium flame, stirring constantly until at a boil. Then lower heat to a simmer and let cook for ten minutes, stirring things up, every minute. Serve with crackers.
I've also added a couple tablespoons of Philadelphia Cream Cheese to the mix, but it doesn't melt well with everything else and you're left with white dots in the soup that sort of look unappetizing, even thought they taste great. Another interesting thing to add is Velveeta. It also shifts the flavor a little.
Of course, this is VERY rich and will kill any diet you're on...so no dessert if you make this. Unless I AM taking on the mantle of Marie Callendar, in which case it's all fattening so don't worry about it...and you should have a slice of apple pie to top the meal off.
Apple pie. DAMN that sounds good.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Scalloped potatoes
That's what I'm making for dinner. Brutally rich and delicious and not at all good for me, which is why they're so wonderful. And the recipe is EASY.
1 can Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup (NOT that low-sodium crap).
5 medium Russet potatoes
1 smallish onion cut in half-rings
1 cup shredded Cheddar Cheese (I like the extra sharp but regular is all right)
1/2 cup shredded Monterrey Jack Cheese (buy it this way; it's easier)
2 tablespoons Parmesan Cheese
Peel and cut the potatoes in whole, round slices, then in a bowl mix the mushroom soup, half a soup can of water, onions, the Monterrey Jack, Parmesan and half the Cheddar Cheese.
Once blended, mix in the potatoes, making sure they are all separated and well coated by the mix (I use my hands to do this but I'm a guy so it's acceptable) then pour it all into a casserole dish. Sprinkle the rest of the cheddar cheese on top, cover it and bake at 350 degrees for an hour and ten minutes.
Salt and pepper to taste (tho' I never actually wind up adding salt; the mushroom soup has plenty).
Next will be my recipe for Cheese soup, which is even WORSE for you. I'm feeling very Betty Crocker, right now...or is it Marie Callender?
I could live off this crap...and HAVE lived off potatoes, before. Guess there's more Irish in me than I thought.
Off to New York City on Thursday for a job. This one, I'm flying blind on but hope to have fun and am actually looking forward to seeing some of the books I'm packing. Many of them are fore-edge -- meaning the edge of the book's papers will reveal a painting if held in the right way. Very cool.
I should set a story in the world of antiquarian books. Maybe a cataloger who looks like Chris Evans but is shy is accused of stealing a copy of the Nuremberg Chronicle (VERY expensive) and has to clear his name with the help of a French customs official...or Italian (those two are the harshest when it comes to antiquarian books being sent in and out of the country)...who looks like Olivier Martinez did in "Horseman on the Roof". Things begin to heat up until they discover they're really long-lost brothers meant to inherit a massive fortune ensconced in a castle in western Germany...which also holds the one and only copy of the Nuremberg Chronicle that has a misprinted page and is priceless (and part of the fortune; best to diversify in these things, you know)...and the evil genius behind them being separated is controlled by a dog named Mike who's really the psychic channel for a wicked witch named Dolores. She wants the Chronicle to use its ink to cast a spell on the world that will make her its ruler, but the ink must be mingled with the blood of one of the brothers and nobody knows which one so both must be taken and tested but one saves the other when he turns out to be a werewolf and...and I think I've gone off the deep end, storywise.
Still...does anyone hear a mingling of "Twilight", "Harry Potter" and "The DaVinci Code" here?
1 can Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup (NOT that low-sodium crap).
5 medium Russet potatoes
1 smallish onion cut in half-rings
1 cup shredded Cheddar Cheese (I like the extra sharp but regular is all right)
1/2 cup shredded Monterrey Jack Cheese (buy it this way; it's easier)
2 tablespoons Parmesan Cheese
Peel and cut the potatoes in whole, round slices, then in a bowl mix the mushroom soup, half a soup can of water, onions, the Monterrey Jack, Parmesan and half the Cheddar Cheese.
Once blended, mix in the potatoes, making sure they are all separated and well coated by the mix (I use my hands to do this but I'm a guy so it's acceptable) then pour it all into a casserole dish. Sprinkle the rest of the cheddar cheese on top, cover it and bake at 350 degrees for an hour and ten minutes.
Salt and pepper to taste (tho' I never actually wind up adding salt; the mushroom soup has plenty).
Next will be my recipe for Cheese soup, which is even WORSE for you. I'm feeling very Betty Crocker, right now...or is it Marie Callender?
I could live off this crap...and HAVE lived off potatoes, before. Guess there's more Irish in me than I thought.
Off to New York City on Thursday for a job. This one, I'm flying blind on but hope to have fun and am actually looking forward to seeing some of the books I'm packing. Many of them are fore-edge -- meaning the edge of the book's papers will reveal a painting if held in the right way. Very cool.
I should set a story in the world of antiquarian books. Maybe a cataloger who looks like Chris Evans but is shy is accused of stealing a copy of the Nuremberg Chronicle (VERY expensive) and has to clear his name with the help of a French customs official...or Italian (those two are the harshest when it comes to antiquarian books being sent in and out of the country)...who looks like Olivier Martinez did in "Horseman on the Roof". Things begin to heat up until they discover they're really long-lost brothers meant to inherit a massive fortune ensconced in a castle in western Germany...which also holds the one and only copy of the Nuremberg Chronicle that has a misprinted page and is priceless (and part of the fortune; best to diversify in these things, you know)...and the evil genius behind them being separated is controlled by a dog named Mike who's really the psychic channel for a wicked witch named Dolores. She wants the Chronicle to use its ink to cast a spell on the world that will make her its ruler, but the ink must be mingled with the blood of one of the brothers and nobody knows which one so both must be taken and tested but one saves the other when he turns out to be a werewolf and...and I think I've gone off the deep end, storywise.
Still...does anyone hear a mingling of "Twilight", "Harry Potter" and "The DaVinci Code" here?
Saturday, December 4, 2010
I have a favorite pair of pants
They're big and green and clunky, with holes around the cargo-pockets, back pockets (two of which I sewed up because they were showing aspect of me that should not be seen) and a new one in the crotch area. Yet still I wear them because they fit right and feel right. I'll probably keep doing so till they fall apart or become illegal to wear outside my apartment.
It's the same with certain movies I like. I can watch "The Women" (1939) and "The Maltese Falcon" (1941) and "The Big Sleep" (the 1946 re-shoot, not the 1945 edition that's been making the rounds) and "The Bourne Series" with Matt Damon over and over. I like how they fit together and just enjoy the process of the story in each one. While there are other films that are just as good and considered classics that I've only seen once and have no interest in seeing, again. "The Godfather 1 & 2" for instance. Brilliant movies but viewing them once was plenty.
Works with music, too. I have CDs by Enigma and Depeche Mode that I listen to, over and over. I won't buy a Cd if I don't think I'll feel that way about it.
Then there's my writing. I can reread some of my work over and over and want to change nothing in it, while other bits I tinker with, incessantly, even to the point of absurdity. I just seem to know when something is right, in my own brain, then it's right and that is all there is to it, and no matter how many times I return to it, nothing will change. I guess that's when I know when to end my work on a story, when it reads right.
LD will be a long process, when it comes to this, because I like my characters and want them to be happy. And for once I'm not rushing or pushing as hard as I normally do. I'm going through and working on a new draft to make certain it's clear and clean...and some parts just don't work, yet. But they will. I know it.
How lovely it is to be able to trust your characters.
It's the same with certain movies I like. I can watch "The Women" (1939) and "The Maltese Falcon" (1941) and "The Big Sleep" (the 1946 re-shoot, not the 1945 edition that's been making the rounds) and "The Bourne Series" with Matt Damon over and over. I like how they fit together and just enjoy the process of the story in each one. While there are other films that are just as good and considered classics that I've only seen once and have no interest in seeing, again. "The Godfather 1 & 2" for instance. Brilliant movies but viewing them once was plenty.
Works with music, too. I have CDs by Enigma and Depeche Mode that I listen to, over and over. I won't buy a Cd if I don't think I'll feel that way about it.
Then there's my writing. I can reread some of my work over and over and want to change nothing in it, while other bits I tinker with, incessantly, even to the point of absurdity. I just seem to know when something is right, in my own brain, then it's right and that is all there is to it, and no matter how many times I return to it, nothing will change. I guess that's when I know when to end my work on a story, when it reads right.
LD will be a long process, when it comes to this, because I like my characters and want them to be happy. And for once I'm not rushing or pushing as hard as I normally do. I'm going through and working on a new draft to make certain it's clear and clean...and some parts just don't work, yet. But they will. I know it.
How lovely it is to be able to trust your characters.
Friday, December 3, 2010
The Emperor Has No Balls
Freezing Out Hope
By PAUL KRUGMAN
Published: December 2, 2010
After the Democratic “shellacking” in the midterm elections, everyone wondered how President Obama would respond. Would he show what he was made of? Would he stand firm for the values he believes in, even in the face of political adversity?
Paul Krugman
On Monday, we got the answer: he announced a pay freeze for federal workers. This was an announcement that had it all. It was transparently cynical; it was trivial in scale, but misguided in direction; and by making the announcement, Mr. Obama effectively conceded the policy argument to the very people who are seeking — successfully, it seems — to destroy him.
So I guess we are, in fact, seeing what Mr. Obama is made of.
About that pay freeze: the president likes to talk about “teachable moments.” Well, in this case he seems eager to teach Americans something false.
The truth is that America’s long-run deficit problem has nothing at all to do with overpaid federal workers. For one thing, those workers aren’t overpaid. Federal salaries are, on average, somewhat less than those of private-sector workers with equivalent qualifications. And, anyway, employee pay is only a small fraction of federal expenses; even cutting the payroll in half would reduce total spending less than 3 percent.
So freezing federal pay is cynical deficit-reduction theater. It’s a (literally) cheap trick that only sounds impressive to people who don’t know anything about budget realities. The actual savings, about $5 billion over two years, are chump change given the scale of the deficit.
Anyway, slashing federal spending at a time when the economy is depressed is exactly the wrong thing to do. Just ask Federal Reserve officials, who have lately been more or less pleading for some help in their efforts to promote faster job growth.
Meanwhile, there’s a real deficit issue on the table: whether tax cuts for the wealthy will, as Republicans demand, be extended. Just as a reminder, over the next 75 years the cost of making those tax cuts permanent would be roughly equal to the entire expected financial shortfall of Social Security. Mr. Obama’s pay ploy might, just might, have been justified if he had used the announcement of a freeze as an occasion to take a strong stand against Republican demands — to declare that at a time when deficits are an important issue, tax breaks for the wealthiest aren’t acceptable.
But he didn’t. Instead, he apparently intended the pay freeze announcement as a peace gesture to Republicans the day before a bipartisan summit. At that meeting, Mr. Obama, who has faced two years of complete scorched-earth opposition, declared that he had failed to reach out sufficiently to his implacable enemies. He did not, as far as anyone knows, wear a sign on his back saying “Kick me,” although he might as well have.
There were no comparable gestures from the other side. Instead, Senate Republicans declared that none of the rest of the legislation on the table — legislation that includes such things as a strategic arms treaty that’s vital to national security — would be acted on until the tax-cut issue was resolved, presumably on their terms.
It’s hard to escape the impression that Republicans have taken Mr. Obama’s measure — that they’re calling his bluff in the belief that he can be counted on to fold. And it’s also hard to escape the impression that they’re right.
The real question is what Mr. Obama and his inner circle are thinking. Do they really believe, after all this time, that gestures of appeasement to the G.O.P. will elicit a good-faith response?
What’s even more puzzling is the apparent indifference of the Obama team to the effect of such gestures on their supporters. One would have expected a candidate who rode the enthusiasm of activists to an upset victory in the Democratic primary to realize that this enthusiasm was an important asset. Instead, however, Mr. Obama almost seems as if he’s trying, systematically, to disappoint his once-fervent supporters, to convince the people who put him where he is that they made an embarrassing mistake.
Whatever is going on inside the White House, from the outside it looks like moral collapse — a complete failure of purpose and loss of direction.
So what are Democrats to do? The answer, increasingly, seems to be that they’ll have to strike out on their own. In particular, Democrats in Congress still have the ability to put their opponents on the spot — as they did on Thursday when they forced a vote on extending middle-class tax cuts, putting Republicans in the awkward position of voting against the middle class to safeguard tax cuts for the rich.
It would be much easier, of course, for Democrats to draw a line if Mr. Obama would do his part. But all indications are that the party will have to look elsewhere for the leadership it needs.
-------------------------------
I knew he wasn't a true progressive. I never completely trusted him to be what he said he'd be. But did he have to make even MY low expectations seem too high?
Granted, the racism and hatred from the right wing nuts wasn't easy to deal with, but running from bullies only makes them worse. Sometimes you HAVE to fight back, even if you know you're going to lose. I've been in 5 fights in my life and lost all of them. One even put me in the hospital overnight. But I still won't back down in the face of someone threatening me. I've even pulled back from friends who've tried to force me to do something I didn't want to do.
What's sad is, this experience will be used against any other person of color...and even against a woman (unless she's a freak like Sarah Palin)...as an excuse not to vote them into the presidency. "They just can't take it," will be the new racist, misogynistic line. And Obama's helping prove them right by proving he's got no balls.
I know gloom and doom was banished...but this needed to be said. I'll now go the rest of the month without whining. Promise.
By PAUL KRUGMAN
Published: December 2, 2010
After the Democratic “shellacking” in the midterm elections, everyone wondered how President Obama would respond. Would he show what he was made of? Would he stand firm for the values he believes in, even in the face of political adversity?
Paul Krugman
On Monday, we got the answer: he announced a pay freeze for federal workers. This was an announcement that had it all. It was transparently cynical; it was trivial in scale, but misguided in direction; and by making the announcement, Mr. Obama effectively conceded the policy argument to the very people who are seeking — successfully, it seems — to destroy him.
So I guess we are, in fact, seeing what Mr. Obama is made of.
About that pay freeze: the president likes to talk about “teachable moments.” Well, in this case he seems eager to teach Americans something false.
The truth is that America’s long-run deficit problem has nothing at all to do with overpaid federal workers. For one thing, those workers aren’t overpaid. Federal salaries are, on average, somewhat less than those of private-sector workers with equivalent qualifications. And, anyway, employee pay is only a small fraction of federal expenses; even cutting the payroll in half would reduce total spending less than 3 percent.
So freezing federal pay is cynical deficit-reduction theater. It’s a (literally) cheap trick that only sounds impressive to people who don’t know anything about budget realities. The actual savings, about $5 billion over two years, are chump change given the scale of the deficit.
Anyway, slashing federal spending at a time when the economy is depressed is exactly the wrong thing to do. Just ask Federal Reserve officials, who have lately been more or less pleading for some help in their efforts to promote faster job growth.
Meanwhile, there’s a real deficit issue on the table: whether tax cuts for the wealthy will, as Republicans demand, be extended. Just as a reminder, over the next 75 years the cost of making those tax cuts permanent would be roughly equal to the entire expected financial shortfall of Social Security. Mr. Obama’s pay ploy might, just might, have been justified if he had used the announcement of a freeze as an occasion to take a strong stand against Republican demands — to declare that at a time when deficits are an important issue, tax breaks for the wealthiest aren’t acceptable.
But he didn’t. Instead, he apparently intended the pay freeze announcement as a peace gesture to Republicans the day before a bipartisan summit. At that meeting, Mr. Obama, who has faced two years of complete scorched-earth opposition, declared that he had failed to reach out sufficiently to his implacable enemies. He did not, as far as anyone knows, wear a sign on his back saying “Kick me,” although he might as well have.
There were no comparable gestures from the other side. Instead, Senate Republicans declared that none of the rest of the legislation on the table — legislation that includes such things as a strategic arms treaty that’s vital to national security — would be acted on until the tax-cut issue was resolved, presumably on their terms.
It’s hard to escape the impression that Republicans have taken Mr. Obama’s measure — that they’re calling his bluff in the belief that he can be counted on to fold. And it’s also hard to escape the impression that they’re right.
The real question is what Mr. Obama and his inner circle are thinking. Do they really believe, after all this time, that gestures of appeasement to the G.O.P. will elicit a good-faith response?
What’s even more puzzling is the apparent indifference of the Obama team to the effect of such gestures on their supporters. One would have expected a candidate who rode the enthusiasm of activists to an upset victory in the Democratic primary to realize that this enthusiasm was an important asset. Instead, however, Mr. Obama almost seems as if he’s trying, systematically, to disappoint his once-fervent supporters, to convince the people who put him where he is that they made an embarrassing mistake.
Whatever is going on inside the White House, from the outside it looks like moral collapse — a complete failure of purpose and loss of direction.
So what are Democrats to do? The answer, increasingly, seems to be that they’ll have to strike out on their own. In particular, Democrats in Congress still have the ability to put their opponents on the spot — as they did on Thursday when they forced a vote on extending middle-class tax cuts, putting Republicans in the awkward position of voting against the middle class to safeguard tax cuts for the rich.
It would be much easier, of course, for Democrats to draw a line if Mr. Obama would do his part. But all indications are that the party will have to look elsewhere for the leadership it needs.
-------------------------------
I knew he wasn't a true progressive. I never completely trusted him to be what he said he'd be. But did he have to make even MY low expectations seem too high?
Granted, the racism and hatred from the right wing nuts wasn't easy to deal with, but running from bullies only makes them worse. Sometimes you HAVE to fight back, even if you know you're going to lose. I've been in 5 fights in my life and lost all of them. One even put me in the hospital overnight. But I still won't back down in the face of someone threatening me. I've even pulled back from friends who've tried to force me to do something I didn't want to do.
What's sad is, this experience will be used against any other person of color...and even against a woman (unless she's a freak like Sarah Palin)...as an excuse not to vote them into the presidency. "They just can't take it," will be the new racist, misogynistic line. And Obama's helping prove them right by proving he's got no balls.
I know gloom and doom was banished...but this needed to be said. I'll now go the rest of the month without whining. Promise.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
LD Redux
I'm doing a quick polish of "The Lyons' Den" just for consistency and clarity, and I really have fallen in love with Daniel and Van. They're Yin and Yang personified, in direct partnership with Ace and Carmen (his secretary). I have a copy of "Pan's Labyrinth" from Netflix to watch...I've had it a week...and I get more out of working with my guys on the story than even thinking about watching a movie.
I MAY watch "The Apartment" again, since LD has become closer in tone to that than to a Marx Brothers flick or "His Girl Friday." There's still the farce but there's also the seriousness of it. Guess I got too carried away with the idea of doing something like "The Man Who Came To Dinner" and let myself shift to working on "Arsenic and Old Lace."
But having Ace tell the story and watching Van interact with Daniel brings me a surprising peace. It's all come together under him, and that makes me happy.
A good aspect of working on this book is, I can ignore the stupidity in Washington over Unemployment Benefits and tax cuts for the rich. Crap like that both infuriates and depresses me...and I don't want that, right now.
So I'm halfway through this polish and then will input the changes and THEN I'll let it go for a while, to get some perspective and see if I still love my guys after a couple months.
Somehow, I think I will.
I MAY watch "The Apartment" again, since LD has become closer in tone to that than to a Marx Brothers flick or "His Girl Friday." There's still the farce but there's also the seriousness of it. Guess I got too carried away with the idea of doing something like "The Man Who Came To Dinner" and let myself shift to working on "Arsenic and Old Lace."
But having Ace tell the story and watching Van interact with Daniel brings me a surprising peace. It's all come together under him, and that makes me happy.
A good aspect of working on this book is, I can ignore the stupidity in Washington over Unemployment Benefits and tax cuts for the rich. Crap like that both infuriates and depresses me...and I don't want that, right now.
So I'm halfway through this polish and then will input the changes and THEN I'll let it go for a while, to get some perspective and see if I still love my guys after a couple months.
Somehow, I think I will.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Winter comes...
And snowflakes dance outside my office window. Not falling, like earlier in the day. Not drifting like they did the first time they came. No, these occasional white dots of ice whisper down and around and up and about and over and under and in tandem as they play at seeing just how long they can keep from laying on the ground to vanish into the thousands that preceded them. On the grass and rooftops, some of them have joined together in tender cover...the same on my little car as it sits on the street. But the pavement and asphalt swallow up those that land there, as if none had never existed. Yet still they come, almost laughing as they twist and twirl and tag each other in the gentle breeze, promising more and more will follow. Lovely. Lovely.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Kyle Cicero Banished my Brooding
Plain and simple. He says I suffer and growl too much over my writing so I'm to spend a week being happy and carefree. I don't know what those words mean...so instead I think I'll post more of "The Lyons' Den" just to see how it's coming across.
Still in chapter one, here, as Daniel makes his way to destiny.
We finally hit this flat stretch of land and traffic got light and speed got slowed down once we were off the 17, with the road doing slow curves and straightaways and next to no cars coming in either direction as the snow kept snowing. Then we passed over a hilltop and into a woody valley, and there was sweet, charming, delightfully nestled Bradleyville...and lemme tell you, we got there hours after they rolled up the sidewalks. Seriously, this is the kind of place the chamber of commerce calls quaint while kids that live there refer to it as “the hell I wanna get the hell away from.” And while it looked like a picture postcard place in the winter white stuff, for some reason all I could think of that town in “It’s A Wonderful Life” -- all dark, snow-drifty and smothering in its Saccharine sweetness. I actually started looking around for a guy in a wheelchair named Potter...the guy being of that name, not the chair.
Somehow Dan-O...naw, better call him Daniel, from now on, and you’ll understand why as we go along...anyway, Daniel found the late-night diner he’d been referred to just off the main drag and walked in to enjoy the blast of warm air and think seriously about a slice of pie and some hot tea or coffee as he waited for the caretaker to come over for him, but before he could even get his gloves off this screech of a voice hollered, “You the fool friend of Mr. Bentley’s, come up here?”
He jumped around to see this five-foot tall gnome dressed in a massive green parka, thick gloves and a muffler atop two of the spindliest legs ever shoved into black ski-pants that ever was, that then vanished into a pair of the biggest snow boots ever seen (perportional...un, proportiony...uh, generally speaking). Seriously, it looked like an olive about to go into a martini, because all you could see of the person inside were two beady eyes that were easily a hundred years old.
My guy nodded and asked, “Are you Mr. Serff?”
“Do I look like Mr. Serff?” the voice snapped. Well, yes, in that get-up, but...”He’s in Boston. I’m the Missus.”
“Uh, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Daniel Bettancourt.”
I couldn’t resist adding, “Lord and master of the great and glorious Ace Shostakovich!” To which Daniel rolled his eyes, not in the snotty way Tad does but like he just plain can’t believe I said that.
The old bat glared at him, obviously noticing the rolling of said eyes and thinking he meant her. “And who else might ya be?” she snapped. “Up here, this time of year at this time of night? Summer place in the dead of winter? All the best skiin’s to the North. C’mon, let’s get this done with.” And she headed out the door, muttering, “Little fool.”
Daniel blinked and followed her. “So...I take it Tad got hold of you and explained -- ?”
“Tad?” she snapped. “That what he goes by, now? I knew him when he was just ‘Master’ Theodore James Bentley, the third, an’ made me use every fool bit of that fool name.” Wow...looked like he’d always been a dick. “An’ yes, he did call. Right ‘round an hour ago. Asked...no, ‘told’ me to get the place ready for ya. Got pretty high-handed with it, too, like I’s his employee. Like I can’t remember when his poppa was treatin’ me all right and proper. Like I’m a fool. I’d of told him where he could go, but ya were already comin’ an’ t’ain’t my way to let people die from exposure. Not ‘round my parcel of the woods, anyhow. T’ain’t polite.”
And I swear, she really DID say “t’ain’t” -- twice!
We headed straight back out to the snow and she eyed Daniel’s rental and snorted. “Best park that here. Won’t make it where we’re goin’.”
“It’s got four-wheel -- ,” Daniel said.
“I got mine. Toss your things in the back.” Then she climbed into this four-by-four with a snowplow as its front bumper, and the damn thing would’ve looked perfect as the car-crusher at a monster truck rally. Seriously, it even had fold-out steps going up to the sideboards of it so she could reach the cab.
“Will the car be okay here?” Daniel asked, eyeing the truck with what did NOT amount to certainty.
““Prob’ly,” said the old bat as she settled in behind the wheel. “No charge at a meter over the weekend. Now let’s get goin’!” Daniel got his satchel, laptop and a bag of groceries he’d bought at a deli by the car rental office and climbed aboard. And away we went, spitting snow the whole way down the drag. And I have to say, if I’d thought my guy was getting into something bad before, I was damn sure of it, now.
Still in chapter one, here, as Daniel makes his way to destiny.
We finally hit this flat stretch of land and traffic got light and speed got slowed down once we were off the 17, with the road doing slow curves and straightaways and next to no cars coming in either direction as the snow kept snowing. Then we passed over a hilltop and into a woody valley, and there was sweet, charming, delightfully nestled Bradleyville...and lemme tell you, we got there hours after they rolled up the sidewalks. Seriously, this is the kind of place the chamber of commerce calls quaint while kids that live there refer to it as “the hell I wanna get the hell away from.” And while it looked like a picture postcard place in the winter white stuff, for some reason all I could think of that town in “It’s A Wonderful Life” -- all dark, snow-drifty and smothering in its Saccharine sweetness. I actually started looking around for a guy in a wheelchair named Potter...the guy being of that name, not the chair.
Somehow Dan-O...naw, better call him Daniel, from now on, and you’ll understand why as we go along...anyway, Daniel found the late-night diner he’d been referred to just off the main drag and walked in to enjoy the blast of warm air and think seriously about a slice of pie and some hot tea or coffee as he waited for the caretaker to come over for him, but before he could even get his gloves off this screech of a voice hollered, “You the fool friend of Mr. Bentley’s, come up here?”
He jumped around to see this five-foot tall gnome dressed in a massive green parka, thick gloves and a muffler atop two of the spindliest legs ever shoved into black ski-pants that ever was, that then vanished into a pair of the biggest snow boots ever seen (perportional...un, proportiony...uh, generally speaking). Seriously, it looked like an olive about to go into a martini, because all you could see of the person inside were two beady eyes that were easily a hundred years old.
My guy nodded and asked, “Are you Mr. Serff?”
“Do I look like Mr. Serff?” the voice snapped. Well, yes, in that get-up, but...”He’s in Boston. I’m the Missus.”
“Uh, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Daniel Bettancourt.”
I couldn’t resist adding, “Lord and master of the great and glorious Ace Shostakovich!” To which Daniel rolled his eyes, not in the snotty way Tad does but like he just plain can’t believe I said that.
The old bat glared at him, obviously noticing the rolling of said eyes and thinking he meant her. “And who else might ya be?” she snapped. “Up here, this time of year at this time of night? Summer place in the dead of winter? All the best skiin’s to the North. C’mon, let’s get this done with.” And she headed out the door, muttering, “Little fool.”
Daniel blinked and followed her. “So...I take it Tad got hold of you and explained -- ?”
“Tad?” she snapped. “That what he goes by, now? I knew him when he was just ‘Master’ Theodore James Bentley, the third, an’ made me use every fool bit of that fool name.” Wow...looked like he’d always been a dick. “An’ yes, he did call. Right ‘round an hour ago. Asked...no, ‘told’ me to get the place ready for ya. Got pretty high-handed with it, too, like I’s his employee. Like I can’t remember when his poppa was treatin’ me all right and proper. Like I’m a fool. I’d of told him where he could go, but ya were already comin’ an’ t’ain’t my way to let people die from exposure. Not ‘round my parcel of the woods, anyhow. T’ain’t polite.”
And I swear, she really DID say “t’ain’t” -- twice!
We headed straight back out to the snow and she eyed Daniel’s rental and snorted. “Best park that here. Won’t make it where we’re goin’.”
“It’s got four-wheel -- ,” Daniel said.
“I got mine. Toss your things in the back.” Then she climbed into this four-by-four with a snowplow as its front bumper, and the damn thing would’ve looked perfect as the car-crusher at a monster truck rally. Seriously, it even had fold-out steps going up to the sideboards of it so she could reach the cab.
“Will the car be okay here?” Daniel asked, eyeing the truck with what did NOT amount to certainty.
““Prob’ly,” said the old bat as she settled in behind the wheel. “No charge at a meter over the weekend. Now let’s get goin’!” Daniel got his satchel, laptop and a bag of groceries he’d bought at a deli by the car rental office and climbed aboard. And away we went, spitting snow the whole way down the drag. And I have to say, if I’d thought my guy was getting into something bad before, I was damn sure of it, now.
Monday, November 29, 2010
50,190
Very much to my surprise...but not to my characters'. What put it over the top was making the explanation of what's going on and the epilogue make sense...which probably means I over-explained everything. But since this IS officially a first draft, I can do that.
What's interesting is how doing this book has sharpened my awareness of what the scripts were about. I think I was being coy in them and, should anything happen with this, I can now make them ten times better. Makes me look at my other works in a different way, too. Who knows what the characters will bring to stories like "Darian's Point" and "Mine to Kill" and "Dair's Window"?
In fact...I can already see how I can make the relationship between Thomas and Marion work better, simply by being able to show it and delve into it, especially during their courtship and marriage and such. I refer to it in the script but now I'm thinking it's a much better idea to do it as a book.
As for publishing...I can do that myself online with Amazon...and even Barnes & Noble, I think. I'll dig into that after the first of the year.
So...Daniel's happy with me, as are Van and Ace. And Brendan's sitting on the sidelines wondering how long I want to break for before we get back to POS. I'm not doing anything else until I have a first draft of his story done, period. I don't need to worry about perfection in it, not just yet; I need to get the plot down and figure out what information I need from that.
Now excuse me while I go find some way of unfrying my brain.
What's interesting is how doing this book has sharpened my awareness of what the scripts were about. I think I was being coy in them and, should anything happen with this, I can now make them ten times better. Makes me look at my other works in a different way, too. Who knows what the characters will bring to stories like "Darian's Point" and "Mine to Kill" and "Dair's Window"?
In fact...I can already see how I can make the relationship between Thomas and Marion work better, simply by being able to show it and delve into it, especially during their courtship and marriage and such. I refer to it in the script but now I'm thinking it's a much better idea to do it as a book.
As for publishing...I can do that myself online with Amazon...and even Barnes & Noble, I think. I'll dig into that after the first of the year.
So...Daniel's happy with me, as are Van and Ace. And Brendan's sitting on the sidelines wondering how long I want to break for before we get back to POS. I'm not doing anything else until I have a first draft of his story done, period. I don't need to worry about perfection in it, not just yet; I need to get the plot down and figure out what information I need from that.
Now excuse me while I go find some way of unfrying my brain.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
I'm Santa's Doppelganger
If you go by the photos accompanying an interview I gave in NYC last weekend. Want to get an idea of just how crazy I am? Check it out.
http://www.diningwithstrangers.com/?page_id=920
LD is just over 46000 words. I'm still pushing but I'm being led places I never thought we'd go to and while these journeys are deepening the book and characters, they're also taking time. Two days left to hit 50K. Sigh. And yet...I honestly would not have it any other way...because I think I'm in love with both Daniel and Van.
Told you I'm crazy.
http://www.diningwithstrangers.com/?page_id=920
LD is just over 46000 words. I'm still pushing but I'm being led places I never thought we'd go to and while these journeys are deepening the book and characters, they're also taking time. Two days left to hit 50K. Sigh. And yet...I honestly would not have it any other way...because I think I'm in love with both Daniel and Van.
Told you I'm crazy.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
ZIP-idey-doo-dah
We are not in the mood to contemplate our navels, we offer in explanation (via the Royal "we") because intense-ness begets brain-dead-ness, and Ace has begun to sound like Elliot Ness so enough of this mess. So we present, instead, a gentle reworking of what has already been presented...the first (now 6) pages of "The Lyons' Den"...aimed at better preparing one and all for the chaos of the rest of the friggin' story.
So without further ado, we hereby present...
Daniel Bettancourt, who's now spending a third of the story in his briefs instead of just a bath towel and shirt; he felt doing so much of the action that close to naked was too distracting and embarrassing and unimaginative (for the book; it'll be fine in the play or movie versions since that's what sell the seats), so we compromised.
And with him is Ace...who is also Tad...which will be explained and set-up and all that in these first few pages. And I hope it all makes sense in the end. but I quite honestly do not know. I only know that as of now I'm thinking the book will top out at 45-46,000 words, a bit short of the NaNoWriMo goal. We shall see.
And these two are all that matter, right now.
Meaning it is time for the meat of this masterpiece to be met --
THE LYONS' DEN
To keep it simple, Daniel’s life began to unravel when he made that bet. Granted, he popped up with the wager out of desperation while trying to talk Tad -- excuse me, Theodore J. Bentley, the Third (one must have one’s moniker correct, you know) -- into giving their relationship a second chance. Of course, his timing was off, as usual. Tad’s focus was on how messed up his current project for a series was (thanks to an overpriced twenty-one-year-old-Cheeto-eater said to be the hottest screenwriter in Hollywood since Orson Welles) and he had to meet with the “yay or nay” guy at HBO on Monday, so he wasn’t listening to a single solitary thing that was being said until Daniel snapped, “Okay, fine, fine, fine, Tad, I’ll get them into shape in time for the damned meeting; now can you just -- ?”
“Are you outta your fuckin’ mind, Danny?” Tad shot back. “You don’t get it -- ALL the scripts are crap, all fuckin’ eight of them, including the Bible.” (“The Bible” not being that book of Christian conflict but one that outlined the direction the characters and story would take; helps to know the lingo of the natives, in this case.) “Besides, you write books, not screenplays.”
“A story’s a story.”
“Oh, please! A script isn’t a story; it’s a framework.”
“Which is probably why they aren’t working, not if you’ve got that kind of attitude about it.”
“It’s the attitude of the business, Danny. And I gotta work in it if I want to produce enough to pay my rent and car.”
“Well, it’s stupid. They’re solid characters, Tad; they’ll work things out, if you let them.”
“Shit, you got any idea how crazy that makes you sound? ‘My characters’ll work everything out.’ Jesus.”
“You know what I mean -- .”
“Do I? Does anybody? Really?”
Daniel got really quiet and calm and said, “You’ve seen it work.”
“I’ve seen you pull shit that would’ve put you in a padded room, fifty years ago.”
“I have six books to back it up.”
Tad sighed and nodded. “Okay, whatever, but they haven’t done crap for me. Besides, all we’re talking about is a movie adaptation; you still got those six books out there, all nice and neat and selling while I got my ass on the line, putting money into it I don’t have and -- and hiring that twerp -- .”
“Tad, listen to me -- I could fix it for you. I could fix ‘em all.”
“Jesus Christ, Danny, the meeting’s Monday. At noon. You can’t do this in a weekend; that’s not enough time.”
Daniel glared at Tad, irritated he was shrugging off such a fantastic offer. “What if I did do it?” he said. “Had ‘em ready in time? What if I did? Would you spend a week in -- in -- in Bermuda with me? Just a week? See if we can work things out?”
Tad just rolled his eyes in that way that always pissed Daniel off. Not because it was so condescending or dismissive, but because he looked so damned good when he did it, the little shit.
Now at this point, one might wonder why Daniel even wanted to get back together with someone as self-absorbed as Tad -- oops, Theodore J. Bentley, the Third (certain of us must use his addendum, as well; he’d snarl in disgust without the full and flowing exclamation of his name and -- and...oh, the hell with it -- let him snarl). It’d always been too much of a one-sided relationship, with Daniel bending over backwards to suit Tad’s every wish...and even those wishes Daniel stupidly THOUGHT Tad had.
Well, the reason is really simple -- the man was fuckin’ gorgeous. And knew it. Period. End of thought about the whole process. If you bring to mind the epitome of every gay man’s dream, no matter what his type -- that was Tad. Built like a Greek god, golden to the max, a face so classic in its line with eyes so blue and cool and elegant...sometimes it hurt to just look at him. To picture Tad walking along the beach in his signature red square-cut Speedo (never a thong, never a plain Speedo, and no way in hell would he be caught dead in board shorts; those were for fat Russians, Australians and boogie-boarder-boiz), well, to see him was to see a prowling panther proudly policing his lair with the casual assurance that he could handle anything -- be it male, female or Flipper. How he and Daniel ever wound up as a couple was the source of endless speculation by one and all who knew them, mainly because Daniel was SO his polar opposite.
Not ugly, no; he just had...well...nice, decent looks. Lean face. Crazy thick brown hair with eyebrows to match, hovering over dark sloe eyes. Smooth olive-toned skin (except for this sorta-kinda 5 o’clock shadow dancing about his jaw and a surprisingly sexy scar along his left cheekbone). Put it all together with his hawkish nose (obviously he took after the French-Portuguese side of the family) and the fact that he was trim (not skinny or even undeveloped; running, hiking and doing the bike trails of New Jersey back country managed to keep his lazy little self in muscled-enough shape), he was pleasantly attractive in your basic Joe Average kind of way.
So why the hell a I’m-all-that guy like Tad would let a sorta-kinda guy like Daniel play high priest to his shining light for nearly two years was beyond explanation for most people. Unless it was the sex. Which more than one wagging tongue insisted must be true because they’d heard from someone whose current lover had slept with another guy who’d heard from a friend of his that Tad was a lousy lay (once you got beyond the oral worship part of his not-all-that dick) while Daniel had tricks up his sleeve that would turn the straightest guy to the pink side (and had proven it with one recently outed actor who had to un-out himself by getting married and having twins that actually looked like him, to everyone’s surprise...including his), this according to a friend who heard it from a friend who heard it from a friend.
But now they’d been broken up for nearly a year and Daniel was willing to do anything to get back together. Why anyone would want to fuck around with anyone who doesn’t want to fuck around with them unless he can really and truly fuck around with them (in every meaning of the term) is one of life’s great mysteries. But that was Daniel’s mind-set, so when Tad dropped by that night to whine about how screwed he was thanks to these adaptations and his backers were pissed off at him and he was gonna go bankrupt and on and on and on, Daniel’d jumped in feet-first, as usual, with his proposal.
Now it should be noted that it most definitely did help that the series of scripts were based on Daniel’s third and fourth books -- oh, oh, right -- by the way, Daniel is also, most definitely, a published author under the name Daniel C. Bettancourt. Yes, his real name, which he saw no reason not to own since it had been his since he was born (except for the “C”; he’d added that in since his mother hadn’t seen fit to give him a middle name). All of which made him the proud penman of six mystery novels. All of which featured me, Ace Shostakovich, private eye extraordinaire.
Meaning, yes -- I’m not real. But if you think it’s weird a fictional character is telling this story, you ain’t seen what happened, yet.
So without further ado, we hereby present...
And these two are all that matter, right now.
Meaning it is time for the meat of this masterpiece to be met --
THE LYONS' DEN
To keep it simple, Daniel’s life began to unravel when he made that bet. Granted, he popped up with the wager out of desperation while trying to talk Tad -- excuse me, Theodore J. Bentley, the Third (one must have one’s moniker correct, you know) -- into giving their relationship a second chance. Of course, his timing was off, as usual. Tad’s focus was on how messed up his current project for a series was (thanks to an overpriced twenty-one-year-old-Cheeto-eater said to be the hottest screenwriter in Hollywood since Orson Welles) and he had to meet with the “yay or nay” guy at HBO on Monday, so he wasn’t listening to a single solitary thing that was being said until Daniel snapped, “Okay, fine, fine, fine, Tad, I’ll get them into shape in time for the damned meeting; now can you just -- ?”
“Are you outta your fuckin’ mind, Danny?” Tad shot back. “You don’t get it -- ALL the scripts are crap, all fuckin’ eight of them, including the Bible.” (“The Bible” not being that book of Christian conflict but one that outlined the direction the characters and story would take; helps to know the lingo of the natives, in this case.) “Besides, you write books, not screenplays.”
“A story’s a story.”
“Oh, please! A script isn’t a story; it’s a framework.”
“Which is probably why they aren’t working, not if you’ve got that kind of attitude about it.”
“It’s the attitude of the business, Danny. And I gotta work in it if I want to produce enough to pay my rent and car.”
“Well, it’s stupid. They’re solid characters, Tad; they’ll work things out, if you let them.”
“Shit, you got any idea how crazy that makes you sound? ‘My characters’ll work everything out.’ Jesus.”
“You know what I mean -- .”
“Do I? Does anybody? Really?”
Daniel got really quiet and calm and said, “You’ve seen it work.”
“I’ve seen you pull shit that would’ve put you in a padded room, fifty years ago.”
“I have six books to back it up.”
Tad sighed and nodded. “Okay, whatever, but they haven’t done crap for me. Besides, all we’re talking about is a movie adaptation; you still got those six books out there, all nice and neat and selling while I got my ass on the line, putting money into it I don’t have and -- and hiring that twerp -- .”
“Tad, listen to me -- I could fix it for you. I could fix ‘em all.”
“Jesus Christ, Danny, the meeting’s Monday. At noon. You can’t do this in a weekend; that’s not enough time.”
Daniel glared at Tad, irritated he was shrugging off such a fantastic offer. “What if I did do it?” he said. “Had ‘em ready in time? What if I did? Would you spend a week in -- in -- in Bermuda with me? Just a week? See if we can work things out?”
Tad just rolled his eyes in that way that always pissed Daniel off. Not because it was so condescending or dismissive, but because he looked so damned good when he did it, the little shit.
Now at this point, one might wonder why Daniel even wanted to get back together with someone as self-absorbed as Tad -- oops, Theodore J. Bentley, the Third (certain of us must use his addendum, as well; he’d snarl in disgust without the full and flowing exclamation of his name and -- and...oh, the hell with it -- let him snarl). It’d always been too much of a one-sided relationship, with Daniel bending over backwards to suit Tad’s every wish...and even those wishes Daniel stupidly THOUGHT Tad had.
Well, the reason is really simple -- the man was fuckin’ gorgeous. And knew it. Period. End of thought about the whole process. If you bring to mind the epitome of every gay man’s dream, no matter what his type -- that was Tad. Built like a Greek god, golden to the max, a face so classic in its line with eyes so blue and cool and elegant...sometimes it hurt to just look at him. To picture Tad walking along the beach in his signature red square-cut Speedo (never a thong, never a plain Speedo, and no way in hell would he be caught dead in board shorts; those were for fat Russians, Australians and boogie-boarder-boiz), well, to see him was to see a prowling panther proudly policing his lair with the casual assurance that he could handle anything -- be it male, female or Flipper. How he and Daniel ever wound up as a couple was the source of endless speculation by one and all who knew them, mainly because Daniel was SO his polar opposite.
Not ugly, no; he just had...well...nice, decent looks. Lean face. Crazy thick brown hair with eyebrows to match, hovering over dark sloe eyes. Smooth olive-toned skin (except for this sorta-kinda 5 o’clock shadow dancing about his jaw and a surprisingly sexy scar along his left cheekbone). Put it all together with his hawkish nose (obviously he took after the French-Portuguese side of the family) and the fact that he was trim (not skinny or even undeveloped; running, hiking and doing the bike trails of New Jersey back country managed to keep his lazy little self in muscled-enough shape), he was pleasantly attractive in your basic Joe Average kind of way.
So why the hell a I’m-all-that guy like Tad would let a sorta-kinda guy like Daniel play high priest to his shining light for nearly two years was beyond explanation for most people. Unless it was the sex. Which more than one wagging tongue insisted must be true because they’d heard from someone whose current lover had slept with another guy who’d heard from a friend of his that Tad was a lousy lay (once you got beyond the oral worship part of his not-all-that dick) while Daniel had tricks up his sleeve that would turn the straightest guy to the pink side (and had proven it with one recently outed actor who had to un-out himself by getting married and having twins that actually looked like him, to everyone’s surprise...including his), this according to a friend who heard it from a friend who heard it from a friend.
But now they’d been broken up for nearly a year and Daniel was willing to do anything to get back together. Why anyone would want to fuck around with anyone who doesn’t want to fuck around with them unless he can really and truly fuck around with them (in every meaning of the term) is one of life’s great mysteries. But that was Daniel’s mind-set, so when Tad dropped by that night to whine about how screwed he was thanks to these adaptations and his backers were pissed off at him and he was gonna go bankrupt and on and on and on, Daniel’d jumped in feet-first, as usual, with his proposal.
Now it should be noted that it most definitely did help that the series of scripts were based on Daniel’s third and fourth books -- oh, oh, right -- by the way, Daniel is also, most definitely, a published author under the name Daniel C. Bettancourt. Yes, his real name, which he saw no reason not to own since it had been his since he was born (except for the “C”; he’d added that in since his mother hadn’t seen fit to give him a middle name). All of which made him the proud penman of six mystery novels. All of which featured me, Ace Shostakovich, private eye extraordinaire.
Meaning, yes -- I’m not real. But if you think it’s weird a fictional character is telling this story, you ain’t seen what happened, yet.
Friday, November 26, 2010
The more you learn
Up over 42,500 words and have 30 pages left of the rewrite to do, so I may fall just short. But I know spaces where I can add more in, for now, so we'll see how it goes. The story is still pretty chaotic, which is how it's supposed to be; I may ask for feedback after my next draft. Not after THIS one, for sure; I think I have some inconsistencies that need to be addressed.
Short day at work helped. Next week will be low key, I think, so I may get more writing done, then. I'll just bring my laptop and work off that.
First snowfall in buffalo, today. Light flurries that wound up leaving about half an inch on my car that then danced about as I drove home. Currently it's laying lightly on streets, yards and rooftops, and more is expected, tomorrow. I may spend another day inside just working at LD and glad I'm not traveling in it. I'll probably have to when I head for San Antonio for Christmas, so no rush.
It now appears that my younger brother and sister have all but abandoned my mother and youngest brother. I'm past the point of being angry and and just brutally disappointed in them. I've done more for my mother from 1600 miles away -- including getting her a bedpan via Amazon.com!! so she doesn't have to rush to get to the bathroom -- than either of them has done living 10 and 30 miles away, respectively. I'm not interested in dealing with them, now.
Amazing what you learn about people as you grow older.
And myself. I'm finding I can still have jokey fun in my stories. And my ability to crush on someone is undiminished. There's even an erotic actor named Conner Habib whose blog I've begun to follow because he's just as smart as he is cute. Trust me to find an intellectual porn star.
Short day at work helped. Next week will be low key, I think, so I may get more writing done, then. I'll just bring my laptop and work off that.
First snowfall in buffalo, today. Light flurries that wound up leaving about half an inch on my car that then danced about as I drove home. Currently it's laying lightly on streets, yards and rooftops, and more is expected, tomorrow. I may spend another day inside just working at LD and glad I'm not traveling in it. I'll probably have to when I head for San Antonio for Christmas, so no rush.
It now appears that my younger brother and sister have all but abandoned my mother and youngest brother. I'm past the point of being angry and and just brutally disappointed in them. I've done more for my mother from 1600 miles away -- including getting her a bedpan via Amazon.com!! so she doesn't have to rush to get to the bathroom -- than either of them has done living 10 and 30 miles away, respectively. I'm not interested in dealing with them, now.
Amazing what you learn about people as you grow older.
And myself. I'm finding I can still have jokey fun in my stories. And my ability to crush on someone is undiminished. There's even an erotic actor named Conner Habib whose blog I've begun to follow because he's just as smart as he is cute. Trust me to find an intellectual porn star.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
I like Thanksgiving...
For one reason and one reason only -- It's a day off where I don't have to deal with anyone. Last year I was living at home with my mother so had to deal with it, then, but prior to that I'd usually tell people who invited me over for dinner that I already had plans and I'd spend the day to myself.
Like today. I didn't leave my apartment. Just worked on LD and got it up to 40,500 words. And I feel productive. I even had a nice little argument between Daniel, Ace, Carmen and Dream-Tad in a shower stall. THAT was a hoot and a horror, and God only knows if anyone will be able to follow it.
BTW, I worked my crush on Zachary Quinto as the new Spock into the story, all without saying his name. Ah, the joys of being a sneak.
Of course, I don't know if anyone'll be able to follow the story at all, what with Ace being the one telling it while Daniel is thinking it and experiencing it as Carmen and Dream-Tad mess with him and he begins to wonder if Van even really, truly exists or if he's involved with True-Tad in trying to mess up the bet. Maybe this is my Dali-style of story -- all surreality mixed with reality and pseudo-reality to mess with reality.
I don't know. It's just proving to be fun. I just hope the ending I have now will be the ending I have when I'm done.
Now let's end this day on a note of beautificence.
I THINK this is China. It wasn't identified on the blog I downloaded it from. But does it look otherworldly, or what?
Like today. I didn't leave my apartment. Just worked on LD and got it up to 40,500 words. And I feel productive. I even had a nice little argument between Daniel, Ace, Carmen and Dream-Tad in a shower stall. THAT was a hoot and a horror, and God only knows if anyone will be able to follow it.
Of course, I don't know if anyone'll be able to follow the story at all, what with Ace being the one telling it while Daniel is thinking it and experiencing it as Carmen and Dream-Tad mess with him and he begins to wonder if Van even really, truly exists or if he's involved with True-Tad in trying to mess up the bet. Maybe this is my Dali-style of story -- all surreality mixed with reality and pseudo-reality to mess with reality.
I don't know. It's just proving to be fun. I just hope the ending I have now will be the ending I have when I'm done.
I THINK this is China. It wasn't identified on the blog I downloaded it from. But does it look otherworldly, or what?
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Best laid plans...
Always get trampled by my characters. I started to add my own little drama to the drama of Daniel's life, and got smacked down in a way that was not pretty. BUT...did lead to something better. And I'm now up over 36K in words.
What happened, you might ask? Well, Daniel got himself a sister...but no brothers. I tried to add them on but he refused to give me the space to do it. And Ace went along with him. So instead up popped this rift with sister, who now won't talk to him because he's gay and she's got kids, and he's in control of his mother's finances because husband #5 didn't trust her to handle them, herself. And now Daniel's meeting up with Ace is a way of saving his sanity...by appearing to be slightly insane...so no one will think he's really insane, since he isn't even though some people think he is. It makes sense in the context of the story.
I hope.
Right now I'm reworking Daniel's and Van's first meeting, where Daniel's completely nude and trying to call the cops when Van walks in and thinks the exact wrong thing. Which leads to things getting off on the wrong foot, completely.
It's funny, but I can picture the models I'm using for Daniel, Van and Tad doing and saying things as I write them. I don't know if this makes it any easier...but it is more fun.
Now back to the writing. I want 37,500 words before I finish, tonight.
What happened, you might ask? Well, Daniel got himself a sister...but no brothers. I tried to add them on but he refused to give me the space to do it. And Ace went along with him. So instead up popped this rift with sister, who now won't talk to him because he's gay and she's got kids, and he's in control of his mother's finances because husband #5 didn't trust her to handle them, herself. And now Daniel's meeting up with Ace is a way of saving his sanity...by appearing to be slightly insane...so no one will think he's really insane, since he isn't even though some people think he is. It makes sense in the context of the story.
I hope.
Right now I'm reworking Daniel's and Van's first meeting, where Daniel's completely nude and trying to call the cops when Van walks in and thinks the exact wrong thing. Which leads to things getting off on the wrong foot, completely.
It's funny, but I can picture the models I'm using for Daniel, Van and Tad doing and saying things as I write them. I don't know if this makes it any easier...but it is more fun.
Now back to the writing. I want 37,500 words before I finish, tonight.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Care Package
I'm sending mom and my youngest brother some food, since my other brother and sister think it's too much trouble to take them grocery shopping. I'll bet my box of dry goods, cookies and candy, magazine and a letter get there faster than anyone else doing their fucking duty.
I must say, I'm shifting more into disappointment, now. I took this job only because Brother and sister said they'd take care of mom so youngest brother wouldn't have to. Now I'm wondering if I'll have to either quit and go back to care for her or move her up here, with me. I'm heading down for Christmas...and I got a feeling it's not going to be a nice one.
Again, no work done on LD. Seems even if I DID have the feeling I could write it into 50,000 words this will keep me out of the running. Maybe. I'll work all day Thanksgiving and this coming weekend...so we'll see. If I get a roll going, I can easily do 4-5000 words in a day, and all I really have left is just over 15000. We'll see what happens.
I may be heading down to NYC the 9th of December and staying till the 13th. Depends on if this packing job comes through. New York in winter. This should be interesting.
So now it's time for Daniel to begin kicking me in the butt, wondering why the hell I'm letting myself get distracted by such nonsense. It's not like there's anything I can do about it...and if I don't watch out, he'll add that crap to his story and REALLY piss the rest of the family off.
Screw it, I think I will.
Which means Van will be more conflicted as the story goes along and he learns about Daniel's past...and which will definitely shift the whole dynamic. (I'm using Cary Grant's character in "Charade" as his guide, since he's a constantly shifting character.)
And that makes Ace -- AKA: Tad -- even more important. I'm having fun with him being modeled after the one guy Daniel's obsessing over...at least, he's obsessing at the beginning of the story. As the chaos (and Daniel's psychosis) grows, we'll see how this plays out.
The book is shifting a fair bit from the script and play...and may inform on them as well as them on it. So...I'm back to wondering what I'll wind up with.
What fun.
I must say, I'm shifting more into disappointment, now. I took this job only because Brother and sister said they'd take care of mom so youngest brother wouldn't have to. Now I'm wondering if I'll have to either quit and go back to care for her or move her up here, with me. I'm heading down for Christmas...and I got a feeling it's not going to be a nice one.
Again, no work done on LD. Seems even if I DID have the feeling I could write it into 50,000 words this will keep me out of the running. Maybe. I'll work all day Thanksgiving and this coming weekend...so we'll see. If I get a roll going, I can easily do 4-5000 words in a day, and all I really have left is just over 15000. We'll see what happens.
I may be heading down to NYC the 9th of December and staying till the 13th. Depends on if this packing job comes through. New York in winter. This should be interesting.
Screw it, I think I will.
The book is shifting a fair bit from the script and play...and may inform on them as well as them on it. So...I'm back to wondering what I'll wind up with.
What fun.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Family sucks
Just spent over an hour on the phone learning about how my younger brother and sister have all but abandoned our mother because each is in his and her own little snit over something. My youngest brother is taking care of her since she got out of the rehab facility, and he can't drive. Fortunately, her doctor is at a clinic that's just two blocks away so when she had an appointment today, he was able to take her there in a wheelchair, but he has to catch a bus to go get groceries because neither of our other siblings can be bothered to come help them do. I'm so fucking pissed, right now, if I talked to either one of those little shits, I'd make things even worse...because we wouldn't be talking for long -- we'd be screaming.
So...no writing done. Instead, I'm posting pictures to try and lessen my anger and try to settle down so I can get some sleep.
Here is the Delaware Water Gap. I took this en route to NYC and my pitiful little photo does NOT do it justice. Just magnificent.
When I got to New York, I was staying in a hotel by The Meadowlands...and I got SO lost trying to do the proper looping arounds to get to it, once I got off the NJ Turnpike, I wound up back on the Turnpike and couldn't get off. I had to do an illegal U-turn at a service road to get back. I finally just got off the freeway and worked my way over to the hotel via surface streets...which was a major chore.
This is a river in the Catskills. I was en route home from NYC when I saw it. Dunno what the name of the river is, but it was lovely and the water was so clear you could see the rocks on the bottom.
Driving home, I swung through Syracuse to do some research for a story. Yes, another script nudging at me to make it into a book...and this one makes sense because no one really got it as a screenplay. We'll see how it goes.
So...no writing done. Instead, I'm posting pictures to try and lessen my anger and try to settle down so I can get some sleep.
When I got to New York, I was staying in a hotel by The Meadowlands...and I got SO lost trying to do the proper looping arounds to get to it, once I got off the NJ Turnpike, I wound up back on the Turnpike and couldn't get off. I had to do an illegal U-turn at a service road to get back. I finally just got off the freeway and worked my way over to the hotel via surface streets...which was a major chore.
This is a river in the Catskills. I was en route home from NYC when I saw it. Dunno what the name of the river is, but it was lovely and the water was so clear you could see the rocks on the bottom.
Driving home, I swung through Syracuse to do some research for a story. Yes, another script nudging at me to make it into a book...and this one makes sense because no one really got it as a screenplay. We'll see how it goes.
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