nonfiction

Sometimes, when I look back on my past, I am confounded.

Today I realized just how many "enemies" I've made over the years. What seems like such a poignant thing in fiction sounds so immature in real life; that there would be people who, even today, upon hearing my name would respond with violent thoughts. The fact that there are people in the world who wish me ill is something I have to deal with, whether or not they are in a position to do so.

Sometimes I wonder what became of some of my friends. Are they even still alive? Many were in bad shape the last time I heard from them; lost to the unpredictable world of drugs or worse.

The question in both cases that I ask is would I contact these people if I had the chance? Whether to seek some semblance of reconciliation, or possibly to resume the shallow interactions that are all that could remain after so many years out of contact? Inevitably, the answer is "no," and "neither," as the circumstances of life dictate I focus my efforts on what's in front rather than behind.

Still, it makes me wonder: what is the purpose of these memories? Of companionships, soured or not, by time or otherwise? Should I watch my back in fear that someday, somewhere, I might find a person waiting to seek revenge on me? It's a bothersome concept, and not one easily mulled over.

Would an apology ever be enough for the wrongs I've done, or does the positive I've brought about during the same times outweigh my trespasses? If forgiveness is that important, why do we not pursue it with more energy and effort? Perhaps we need only to forgive ourselves, and let the grudges lie where they may. Or perhaps that was the way of the past, and, now that we have the Internet, we no longer need to allow the lack of proximity to forestall our communication.

I neither watch for nor expect to run into anyone I've known in the past. It happens about as often as I'm in the same room with a celebrity, which is close to never. And yet, through things I've found and read, I know there are people who I've made a lasting impression on -- however negative that may be.

As we constantly evolve, should we even continue to place importance on these things? They might as well have happened to someone else, for as disconnected as we are from them.

I am purposefully being vague, mostly because these "grudges" and "trespasses" are so shallow and unimportant that to dwell on what they actually are would waste even more effort. But, hopefully, we can all relate to making enemies in our pasts.

I never have claimed to be a saint among men, though saying so sounds like I wish to excuse my behaviors. Perhaps I do, but I'd be naive if I thought any of the aforementioned might read this obscure post. There is really nothing to do but carry on, cast off these things as best we can, and work toward a better tomorrow.

New BP post

Hey everyone, check out the new post over at Beethoven's Playlist.

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Speaking of BP, I am looking for some possible guest bloggers over there. If you know a lot about music, have "connections," or are interested in the project, leave me a comment or shoot me an email. Thanks.

Confounding Vernacular: "blank" porn

Being that it is October here on Earth, the subject of horror writing came up in a discussion between me and Harry Markov recently. As if you weren't already aware, by the multitudinous zombie anthologies and tales of bloodletting he reviews, Harry is a big fan of the horror genre as a whole. I, myself, have held off on jumping too far in over the years. When I have, more so in 2009 than in the past, it has been 99% through film.

Horror writing, however, is quite the fascinating venture. Being able to frighten people with words is an enviable skill. I, myself, have never actually put forth effort into writing horror and told Harry so. I wouldn't even really know where to start.

He told me to "write torture porn."

Now, reading the expression "torture porn" immediately conjured images of sadistic erotica and tentacle-ridden hentai films. I told him I didn't write erotica, either, and he grew perplexed at this comment.

You see, inserting a word before "porn" does not imply any nudity but instead uses the themology of pornography to describe something in fewer words. It should make you start thinking "should I really be looking at this?"

So "torture porn" would be copious amounts of torture, as in Hostel and the Saw franchise. Just like This Is Why You're Fat is "food porn." No need to explain.

So, in effort to clarify, let's make sure we adopt the same universal definition.

My thoughts on The Recession

While some would say business isn't exactly "booming" at the moment, and point to the near 10% of unemployed Americans as proof, I discount any claims that things have stagnated.

Recently, the Dow Jones Industrial Average passed the 10,000 mark ⁽¹⁾ after having dropped below it for the first time in four years. This set off a massive wave of speculation, both public and private, about where the country is headed economically. Gas prices, after giving everyone a collective "breather," have given us a 12 cent jump in one week's time due, apparently, to the "weakening dollar."⁽²⁾

At [nearly] the same time, Apple posted its highest quartly gain ever⁽³⁾. A rise in profit of 47% with their stock price hitting the highest it ever has, somewhere close to $200/share. This in thanks to their Macs and iPhones, which they sold the most of ever. If you don't own an iPhone, and are not on AT&T, you probably don't understand the kind of investment that is. There's no such thing as a "free" iPhone version and, even though they've lowered in price, the cost of the phone is not the only thing you have to contend with. The bigger, longer-term, and absolutely-necessary cost is for the Data Plan you use (and whatever other Plan features you require). If people thought they were going to be broke, I'm not convinced they would make this kind of "investment." Then again, we are a nation built on a foundation of debt.

On top of all that, the Publishing (which includes distribution) Industry has come up against a challenge of its own⁽⁴⁾. With the advent of electronic readers (e.g. Kindle, Sony eReader, etc.) the "electronic book" has started to become a hot commodity. I say "started to" because I don't feel they've caught on as quickly as, say, DVD's. I can remember when The Matrix came out (and, to be honest, I didn't even want to see it at first because it was so hyped) but I remember even more vividly when The Matrix DVD came out. Everyone wanted to know "how they did that," and they didn't want to wait 5 years for a History Channel show about movie effects.

The "book" industry has seen so many "bestsellers," yet there is no literary equivalent of The Matrix. That much of a leap forward would be like releasing Hemingway during the Renaissance. However, I digress.

My concern about this ebook price war is that it takes away from the value of the property while, at the same time, preying on people's need for a bargain during "these tough economic times." Now, I've sold my own product at a discount, even given it away for free, but at this point in my career it isn't my primary goal to "turn a profit" from my writing efforts. Not that I would turn it down, of course. But what makes this price war so dangerous is that it ignores the profit model -- Walmart, Target, and Amazon will be losing money by retailing these selected bestsellers for less than they, as a business, need to.

"Sure," you might say, "but the consumer wins, don't they?" In the myopic short term, yes, the consumer does pull ahead on the scoreboard. Think, though, about what the retailers stand to gain from this kind of a maneuver. Loyalty? Due to the lightning-quick price matching of competition, it's unlikely that Walmart might "lure" away Target or Amazon's customers (and vice-versa). I'll grant you that a lot of people buy bestsellers, otherwise they'd have to come up with a different label, but is this really the main target market of any of the three retailers in question?

We also can't set aside the fact that these are ebooks being sold, not fancy hardcover editions. And yet, the only major difference there is materials--every piece of effort that goes into creating a physical book goes into creating an ebook short of tactile assembly. In fact, there is even additional work that needs to be done (e.g. special formatting). Add to that, these books are most-likely not just coming out in electronic format. To sum up, it cost the publishers the same amount to acquire and release these titles. How then do they get paid back by the retailers? The retailers eat the difference, and hope their own costs adjust to avoid deflation.

Or, they are merely sticking their toes in to see if they can't create a demand in this market, hoping electronic reading devices are that "next great thing" on everyone's shopping list. "Look how much money you can save!" they might boast, delicately sweeping all thoughts of the Public Library under the rug.

My point is that companies wouldn't be taking this kind of risk unless there was some kind of payoff. That's neither good nor bad; just don't for a second believe they have some kind of altruistic motive. We're a capitalist country, and the only reason a US company would care how much money is in your wallet is they want to know how much they can get you to spend. (Again, neither good nor bad. It's healthy, just not very friendly.)

And me? I'm just a guy who believes laptops were invented so men could multi-task.

I believe the economy is on the return swing (as in a pendulum) but that our "recovery" is not as simple as people wish it to be. People have to invent new ways to make money, building on the old methods. So, in my opinion, expect to see one of the two scenarios in the coming year:

1) Walmart, Target or Amazon declares bankruptcy (bad sign)

2) Unemployment stops rising and starts falling (good sign)

Till you see either one of those, relax.

AGOT pilot edging ever closer

Based on some of the recent posts at Winter Is Coming, the pilot for A Game of Thrones is nearly ready to begin filming. A lot of the secrecy around the cast/casting seems to have blown off, as some of the actors are now doing (and posting) interviews about the project.


Frankly, I couldn't be more excited to see ASOIAF brought "to life" on the small screen. As many have said already, HBO has an incredible track record for their series'. I was a big fan of the short-lived Rome, and have heard and seen numerous things on their other shows.

Judging by the size of Martin's fanbase, and the cost involved just in producing the pilot, I will be floored if this series doesn't get fully picked up and go on to finish as far as it can go (which means as fast as GRRM can write, which is a little up in the air at this point). Floored, and very unhappy. Not only will AGOT get me to watch a television program at its actual airing time, it will get me to upgrade my cable plan to get HBO for the duration. And I bet I'm not alone.

With as strong a cast as they've built, and the obviously fantastic (haha, pun) subject matter, we may have a great winter coming... next year-ish.

Check out a good article with cast pictures here.

Digging up bones

Most of you have probably never seen my old Tripod page (last updated nearly a decade ago, when I was into AMV's and still had the desire to build my own website). I had to access it again yesterday/this morning because I still store a lot of images there. Old Magic: The Gathering card art that I like, which I now use for "custom" shortcut icons on the new-blue-laptop. Old RPG character icons, same reason.

I try hard to avoid "reliving" the past, or reminiscing the times of my life where this website was actively used. Mainly because I'm not that person anymore, and any attempt to understand where my head was at that point fails from this current vantage. That "Gerald Tarrant" chat room personality that I invented is dead, and with him all the friendships and popularity of that age.

It's funny how certain things in your past can strike you. For a long time, during the aforementioned "chat room" years, I kept a page of my website devoted to female friends I deemed "angels" for one reason or another. Even searched for paintings and renderings of "actual" angels to thumbnail next to their names, and had categories of angelicism (music, beauty, etc.) to further highlight my appreciation for them.

I can understand how this might sound weird when comparing who I am now to who I was then, and it was weird, but there are/were facets of my personality that had no other real outlet. I think when I started to lose touch with all my "chat" friends, started living in real life (though to what standard that applies, I can't say) those things dried up and died away. So much so, in fact, that rather than recreating an Angels page on my then-new Tripod site, I created a page where the filename was titled YRUangels. As if I wasn't getting what I expected.

There are very few traces of this "past life" of mine floating around, even though the Internet archives information better than Dumbo's lineage. It's all in my head now, and somewhere locked in the memories of various people I will (in all probablity) never see or talk to again. And probably rightfully so.

Time marches on, and as we learn and make new memories we also evolve. Our bodies change as we age, but so do our personalities, and sometimes it's a bit shocking to look back on the gauntlet we've traversed throughout the years.

Perhaps, in this instance, it's a good thing that memory fades with time.

Drizzle

I've considered (and, subsequently, discarded) numerous post topics as of late, pondering what next to write about. This indecisive stint of my creative side has bled over from the numerous "irons in the fire," aka projects in my Writing folder. One interesting thing to appreciate is that I wrote two ~500 word shorts recently, and both received a surprising amount of positive attention. I'm not creatively dry, just possibly a little hesitant.

The question is why.

If you're stalking me, then you know I've made a music blog wherein I have sung the praises of Lady GaGa⁽¹⁾, advised a Modern Alternative playlist for October⁽²⁾, and discoursed greatly on the various Media Players it has been my pleasure to utilize over the years⁽³⁾. You might also know that I'm holding off a bit of blogging in anticipation of a certain announcement (which shall remain nameless for the time being). But, I digress.

Music is one topic I've considered, having recently become interested in Marie Brennan's preferences while writing (see the Music heading). It would be difficult not to listen to music while writing, I think, because there's so much potential for distraction otherwise. I have to fill my ears with something, and usually something I don't need to concentrate on to enjoy. I'm still trying to figure out the "best" playlist for such activity but, because I tend to memorize things pretty easily, it is a very dynamic and ongoing process.

I pondered posting a short complaint type of fiction wherein the first-person-narrator would bemoan his sense of hearing, annoyed at having to listen to his co-workers talk. This could, conceivably, branch out into a "short" wherein his sense of sound is taken away It's A Wonderful Life-style. Might have been interesting.

As I eluded in a previous post, I'm writing something right now from a very "different" perspective -- one that might not be accepted or appreciated [as much] should it be obvious that "I" wrote it. This irks me. So much so that after a few thousand words I'm not sure how far I should go with it, even though there are many possible scenes I could explore with the character in question.

Speaking of which, an author friend of mine once "criticized" a piece of mine that a certain character didn't really have any flaws. I'm trying to rectify this in later works, as that particular piece merited that trait, but it is another thing constantly on my mind. I don't want cardboard cut-outs in my writing. I want interesting, dynamic personalities who have something to offer should a reader circle back to me a year later (as I often do with books I've purchased).

Another potential topic is a bit of introspection; I have realized that many of the worlds I create are incredibly dark and morose. I don't write about a lot of happy people holding hands and dancing in circles while fluffy bunnies and doves march in time. Many of my characters have a jaded view of their world. Is this me coming through, or are my characters reacting to the conditions of the worlds I create?

Finally, I want to congratulate Kelly and Gabe on their recent marriage. They're in France, at the moment, but I wanted to give a shout-out anyway.

That's about all I can muster for a Wednesday. Back to work.

Stick with what you know?

Familiarity is sort of a double-edged sword as far as writing is concerned.

Speaking from a purely Fantasy (or SFF, even) standpoint, it is ultimately impossible to have any familiarity with many of the characters we create. Sure, we can do research into Dark Age Europa, interview Wiccans to see what "magick" is like, even watch some biology documentaries to get a look at some really fantastic creatures.

We can talk to convicted murderers (I assume we can, anyway; they'd probably be happy to get a visitor) and read the biographies of tyrants, kings, presidents, and laymen alike. But do any of these things put us in their heads?

A common problem among beginning writers is they can't convey the story from an acceptable point of view. It's not that the narrator is unreliable as in dishonest, more like unreliable as in not believable. Upon reading it, we'll say things like, "Teenage girls just don't think that way," or something of the sort.

When I wrote The Ninth Avatar, I knew going in that I would have to write from both male and female perspectives. I had no idea how deep the author is expected to go with that, but I learned quickly. Each character must have a different, distinct voice. Women do really think differently than men, and the last thing you want is two characters "thinking" exactly the same way.

Through their viewpoint, though, is one of the best ways to develop a character. Are they cowardly? Show them cowering while the action goes on. Are they prone to explosive moments of uncontrollable rage? Can they perform magic? Are they sexually aroused? Depressed? Confused? Show us what kind of person this is, and how they think of themself.

So, with all of that in mind, how comfortable are you reading a book from a female's perspective but that a man wrote? Or vice-versa? What if the man/woman has a specific profession, like prostitute, that it might be difficult for the opposite sex to fathom?

Should we ultimately stick with what we know, or can we as authors step outside our own psychological boundaries? (And, if we do, must we publish these projects under a pseudonym?)

fiction

Lawrence always kept a copy of the Bible in his hand when he gambled at the roulette table. Usually the King James version, or whatever the Gideons left in the drawer by the bed. He wasn't even sure why; it never brought him any luck. Most times the book only brought awkward stares from the croupier, but Lawrence had to have it. He would feel naked without his anchor.

Twenty years of office work hadn’t done the tall, thin Lawrence any favors. He heard in a movie once to "always bet on black," but that was just a funny quote. Roulette fascinated him, and not just because the odds were so long. The wheel always spun with its own special hum, and the undersized cue ball ticked like an Armageddon clock.

The Bible felt good in his hand. Bonded leather, the cheap kind, with embossed titling and a well-worn appearance. Of course, people used it often in a place like this. Not for the same purpose Lawrence sought--more for a misplaced belief that luck was the same thing as divine intervention. He never quite figured out why some people thought God wanted them to win. The wheel surely didn't care.

"Black 22," came the call. Lawrence started to curse under his breath, then remembered the Bible in his hand. Oh shit became Oh well, and he pushed another short stack of chips across the table. The tan plastic discs resembled pancakes today, and the croupier grinned like a patron at the International House that bore their name. All that was missing was the syrup.

As if on cue, one of the casino's intoxicated nomads stumbled into the table and spilled her drink across its surface. The mixture of booze and cola--diet, no doubt--completed the image in Lawrence's mind. At least none had spilled on his book.

"I’m sorry," the woman slurred as she clumsily tried to gather the liquid and ice in her hands. The croupier, a short Latino with matching vest and bowtie, waved her off and applied a towel. When the woman’s gathering began to include more than just ice cubes, Lawrence reached out and grasped her arm.

She wrenched out of his grip and scowled, dark eyes behind bright curls. His hand came away saturated in vanilla and lavender. The woman froze as if caught, looking with only her eyes to the right and left, and Lawrence used the moment to take in her full appearance. Crimson hair, ruby lips, and a fire engine red dress, the last shining from the ambient neon, cut too low for her ample bust and hemmed too high for her muscled legs. Diamonds glittered across the pale skin of her wrist and neck, and something about her manner said none of it belonged.

Beautiful in the way only trouble can be, the woman moved around the table and pressed herself against Lawrence's back. Her lusty warm breath tickled his ear as she whispered into it.

"See something you like?" She spoke in a husky southern accent, and the scents he'd picked up before only intensified with the proximity.

"Red," he said, placing his bet. Red, like blood, like her--like energy given form. The Bible might say something about this kind of moment, if he ever cared enough to open it. Tonight it was just an anchor, and the red sea was waiting to be parted.

A Subtle Misunderstanding

I would love to eat both, but it's frowned upon to cook dog in this country.

Oh wait, you meant... ohhhhhh.