The New Email

Well, I guess it had to happen eventually.

As of today, March 31, 2012, The Cynical Sarcastic has its own email address.

Going forward, please send all correspondance to:

thecynicalsarcastic@gmail.com.

Keep it coming kids! 

They said WHAT?: A Few Notes On Dialogue

After our little discussion on character building a few days ago, the topic of dialogue has come up again and I think it needs a little more exploration.  So, let's continue our so-I-think-I'm-a-writer-101 and let's talk about dialogue.

At its most basic, dialogue is nothing more than what your characters say to each other.  There are so many schools of thought and techniques regarding dialogue, and I'll be honest upfront and say I've studied a LOT of them, that I would hazard to say that there are as many ideas about the best ways to write dialogue as there are people banging away on keyboards.  Some people believe you should write dialogue along formal rules, others say that you should keep them sounding like real people.  As I've stated a few times on this blog, I am a huge fan of writer/actor/director/genius in action Kevin Smith.  One of the reasons I like the man's work is that it's distinctive in the way he treats dialogue on the whole.  In a Q&A session a few years ago, Mr. Smith referred to his method of creating dialogue as making his characters speak as he thinks people ought to speak, profanity included.  He referred to it as a ratcheted up version of reality.  I've never heard anything before that I felt was so very, very dead on point from another writer.

Here's my simple guide to writing dialogue.  First, remember the world in which your characters reside.  Do they sound like they belong there?  For example, are you writing a fantasy story but for some reason everyone sounds like an extra from Sex and the City?  Unless you are doing this on purpose for effect, which is sort of like trying the advanced stuff out of the Kama Sutra without a spotter, you're probably going to end up with a mess on your hands.  Your dialogue must keep your characters grounded in your world, thus keeping your readers' willing suspension of disbelief in working order and allowing them to enjoy the story. 

Just a quick side note on 'your world.'  Whether you realize it or not, everything you scribble on paper or screen is created inside of a world.  Whether you choose to show two people sitting on a dark stage in a screenplay or you think you're the next Tolkien or Martin and are creating an entire fantasy world, you are creating a place for your characters to play in.  (By the way, every writer's group and lit professor will tell you not to even bother trying to outdo Tolkien on world creation.  Screw them!  If you're up for it and willing to dedicate yourself to the task, go for it.)  Even if you are setting your story in the daily world you inhabit in a very real place, the story still takes place in your 'take' on that world.  It's categorically impossible to write 100% reality, in my very less than humble opinion.  Even journalists can't do it!  Don't believe me?  Why in the world do you think there are so many libel and slander suits every year?

Next, do they sound like they are actually speaking to each other?  I made a reference in the characterization discussion to dialogue that sounds like bad actors trying to dry read Shakespeare.  Again this is only my opinion, but my advice is to stick with what you know.  My dialogue usually comes out as idealized versions of how someone I know speaks.  I'm forever picking up on things someone says or how they say them and it inevitably finds its way into my writing.  I'll give you an example:  'oh dear.'  My friend Meghan says this on a regular basis.  No matter how hard I tried, I've ended up with a character in the new book who says it about four times.  I mentioned in the characterization post that I have a character that says 'dude' too much when drunk.  That came directly from someone who was a very close friend at the time as well.  What you are going for when you are creating conversations is that they are natural above and beyond anything else.  The test I put all my dialogue through is very simple: could I have just plausibly overheard it or does it sound manufactured?

Now let me caution you very seriously on one note.  Be careful where you pull parts and pieces from as you assemble your characters and dialogue.  The first thing you have to consider is a legal term called likeness rights.  If you craft a character that is too close to someone in real life, you could find yourself owing them a portion of any money you make from the piece.  In worst case, you may even find yourself getting sued if they object to your use.  That's the major reason I will never use any one person, or anything that can be tied to one person, as a character.  The other thing you have to be careful with is what stories you use for your work.  It's okay to use a great story from college as fodder for your work, just don't make it so that any one person is identifiable.  You never know when someone you know may end up having to have an uncomfortable conversation with their spouse over an old story you used in a book.  Remember, that great sex scene you just wrote that you based on a crazy night in high school could lead to major issues when your tumble partner's husband finds out that in fact they weren't a virgin on their wedding night!

One last note on dialogue, and this one I mean with all my heart, has to do with profanity.  I believe very strongly that profanity is an art form and when used correctly can give a reader awesome insight into a character.  When used poorly, however, profanity not only makes your character look like an idiot but really cheapens your work and makes it amateurish in tone.  I say this with full knowledge that I use the F word literally in the first line of my new book.  Is it there for a purpose?  Hell yes.  Is it absolutely necessary to use it there? No, BUT I made a conscious choice to use it there.  I use it to not only show the moral bankruptcy of my character from the outset but also to show the depth of the problem he's discussing.  Using 'damn' or 'freaking' in the same spot just wouldn't have the same effect.  Also, be careful who you allow to use profanity and make sure it fits their character, unless it is totally against character on purpose.  Remember, there are few things funnier than a cussing nun!

Well, that's about all I've got on dialogue.  My advice is pretty basic:  make it fit, make it sound real, and swear only when it's a good fit.  Good luck!

Thanks again to Shannon as well as the Proud Failures Writing Group for some material for this discussion.

Oooooohh.. A Letter and a Question!

Oh goodness, it looks like the CS got another letter from a reader this morning... and no, for a change, this one doesn't need any kind of scathing retort.  You can all relax, I promise.

This email came in from a friend of mine who is in the process of writing her first pieces of fiction.  She seems to be under the impression that I have at least some minor experience on the subject, why I'm not exactly sure, and wanted to know if I had any advice on creating realistic characters. 

Well Ms. Shannon, all I can tell you is what I know works for me.  You could walk out of your door right now, visit any library, community college, university, or workshop and find ten thousand different and all very valid ways to create characters.  I can even just about promise you that my other friends who are writers and read this blog will probably have their own opinions on what works best as well because it is a process that is works differently for different people.

But, since you asked, here's my guide to creating characters.  God help you.

First of all, you need to decide if this character is actually integral to the story or just window dressing.  In other words, does this character do anything to move the story along or are they simply 'random guy pumping gas?'  (A trick that a lot of mystery writers use that I really like is to make 'random guy pumping gas' actually an integral part of the story in later chapters.  But that's a little more advanced story construction than what we're discussing right now.)  If the character is just window dressing to flesh out a scene, you obviously don't need to do much with them other than a mention and brief descriptions.  How much detail you use is up to you.  Some writers, like me, tend to paint very detailed pictures for their readers.  Others tend to let you fill in the blanks yourself.  It's all your choice.  Personally, if the random guy is sweaty and nervous, I'm probably going to make you almost smell the stink.

I'm guessing by your question, however, that you want help creating major characters.  Okay, so here's my way to do this.  First, I get an idea of a scene from whatever source of inspiration happens to hit me.  (I covered this in a bit more detail in a previous post entitled 'Why?' if you want some more information and examples.)  Then, as I develop the scene, I start to get a sense of the character from a physical standpoint.  Bascially, what do they look like?  It's going to sound a little confusing but as I start to see their actions I try to picture what they look like doing them.  For example, say you picture a person walking down the street.  Pretend you're standing across the street watching them.  What do you see?  I will admit that most of my male characters start out as big guys, since that's what I am, and then morph into themselves as time goes on.  The same can be said for my female characters.  They all start out with curly red hair and athletic bodies and then change into something more like them as time goes on.  I think a lot of that comes from writing my first book where the two main characters were a tall guy named Nick and a redhead named Dina.  Since I have to honestly count those as two of the four most well developed characters I've written in my opinion, I think a lot of the new ones start on that archetype and then change from there.

With all of that said, I have to be really honest and say that physical appearance isn't the biggest thing for me unless someone needs to be attractive or mirror-cracking ugly for the purpose of the character.  What matters more to me is who that person is inside.  What makes them tick?  What are their bad habits and vices?  That sort of thing.  This is the part that can take a while BUT when you finally get to know your character as a 'living breathing person' the story starts to make a whole lot more sense.  Just as an example I spent two weeks 'finishing' a novel that just sucked.  Nothing really seemed to flow like it should and I was having a hard time 'buying' the main character.  It suddenly occurred to me one night while making a frustration run for ice cream that I wasn't 'listening' to my character and that's what was screwing everything up. 

You can stop laughing now.  No, I don't need medicated. 

What I mean is that I created this character but I didn't let him tell his story.  It was my voice instead of his, my interpretations of his actions, etc.  Now that I'm rewriting things from his perspective the story issues are evaporating and things are flowing much better.

While I'm thinking about it, don't put too much stock in your character's name to begin with.  That part will come on its own.  I've literally sat with other writers trying to come up with an interesting name for a character and it's tough.  Mine tend to name themselves accidentally.  For example the main character in the novel I'm completing now started out named Charles until I was writing a line where his wife yelled at him and the name Malcolm came out.  A few pages later, and since the story is written in first person, he introduces himself to the reader as Mack.  Go figure, right?

So how do you assemble a person out of thin air?  Simple.  You steal.

Think of all the people you know.  Whether you realize it or not, as even a potential writer you have a Rolodex in your head full of character traits and don't even realize it.  I create characters as amalgamations of people I know, stories I've heard, things I've done and said, and anything else I can get hold of.  The trick is to blend all of these random pieces into a new character.  We'll use my Dina character that I previously mentioned as an example.  Here's part of how I put her together:  one friend's red hair + another friend's body type + someone else's sexual orientation + someone's oral fixation + another person's artistic flair + a horrific sexual abuse story I heard + a strong streak of smart ass + another person's bad taste in girlfriends + one person's tendency to say 'dude' too much when drunk + a ton of other little stuff borrowed from a lot of other people.  Take all those physical and personality traits, blend well, then serve. 

After you put all of those pieces together, you're left with the one thing I think so many people underuse as a means of character building:  dialogue.  Once you can describe someone well, what they say and how they say it are critical to making them realistic.  I believe in writing conversations.  I want my characters verbally play back and forth.  I think the world needs more wit and banter on occasion so I tend to write it in to the worlds I create.  I would give you one word of caution:  don't be artificial in your dialogue.  Try to write the words as you imagine hearing them.  Don't fall into letting your characters sound like bad actors trying to dry read Shakespeare.

Yes I know this isn't the funniest or most entertaining thing to read but hopefully this has answered a few of your questions or at least given you an idea or two.  My personal opinion is that you can never know your major characters too well.  I think you'll find that once you flesh them out fully in your head you won't have to work too hard at creating viable stories for them to play in.

For everyone else, we'll try and get back to the funny and ranting and raving later this week.

Treading Carefully on Broken Glass in Razor Wire Boots

Good morning all.  An issue has stuck its head up this morning that I feel like I need to weigh in on, at least in part.  Please pardon me as I do my best Danny Tanner voice over here:  Kids, we need to have a little talk about racism.

Before I begin this post I'd like to say thank you to two people for content ideas.  First, thank you to Meghan Kelly for her link to the racist reactions to the Hunger Games movie.  Secondly, thank you to Jimmy Pruitt for carrying on a thoughtful and insight filled discussion on racism over Facebook this morning.  I should note that I haven't spoken to Jimmy since high school with the exception of the odd 'Like' button press here and there but after reading his discussion this morning I have to take a moment to say well said, sir!

Folks, I know right now before I begin that this is a tenuous topic at best, hence the title.  I'm probably going to upset a few folks along the way here but I hope, I truly do hope, that if what I have to say upsets you it's because you realize that there is actually a grain of truth in here somewhere that bothers you more than the fact that some overgrown asshole had to voice his opinion on the subject. 

In deciding where to begin on this topic I felt like the right thing to do is to state my feelings on the subject of race.  Put very simply, I could care less.  The color of someone's skin rates so far below my radar on reasons to ridicule, harass, harangue, or otherwise belittle that it doesn't really register.  Stupidity, idiocy, and entitlement are much easier targets and let's face it, I'm not exactly a creature known for taking the road less travelled when it comes to those I choose to verbally and otherwise skewer.  If anything, I have more of a problem with those of my own race than I do with those of another one, but that's completely a topic for another day.  Damn Crackers!

With that being said I want to front load the rest of this discussion with the horrible truth.  There are two truths about racism that no one really wants to talk about but they are not only present but they are very, very real.  The first is that racism still exists in a good portion of its original glory.  The second is that racism is a Constitutionally protected right, whether you like it or not!

Since I'm quite sure that last line rankled quite a few feathers, let's deal with that portion first.  The same Bill of Rights that gives me the right to blather away at this keyboard on whatever topic I wish, whether its praying to Bob the Head of Lettuce or gay marriage rights or the blatant moronicism of the random fast food worker, protects racist thought and speech.  I have just as much Constitutional right to use the N word in public as I do the F word, so long as I do no harm to others in the process of exercising that right, and sadly the Supreme Court has yet to recognize hate speech as harmful when all it does is upset someone.  Folks, as much as it personally galls me to say it, the Bedsheet and Bullshit Brigade (aka the KKK) has just as much right to gather and rant about whatever they feel appropriate as I do to get a bunch of friends together and mock them from a safe distance in the woods.  Personally, I treasure the freedoms that allow me to say and think what I'd like.  Part of that comes down to being willing to defend the freedoms of others to say and think what they will as well, no matter how I feel about it or how it affects me personally within the limits of the law.

Now to my earlier point: racism still exists.  Racism is not going anywhere kids and its not because it just refuses to go away.  It's staying around because the racist fires are continually stoked on a national stage.  Let's use the Trayvon Martin incident as an example.  First of all I have a simple question: why is this national news?  I have all sympathy for the Martin family in this issue but let's get real for a moment.  This is a case of a moron community watch member overreacting and using a weapon when he shouldn't have that resulted in the death of a kid.  It's tragic, definitely.  National news worthy, not in the slightest UNTIL you throw in remarks about the color of the kid's skin.  There might be a race issue involved you say?  Well shit fire and save matches!  Somebody wake Dan Rather out of his coma, toss his ass in a suit, and get him down there STAT!  Now suddenly this moron's grievous error is national news and his victim is getting drug through the mud by his defense attorneys by publicly posting the kid's Twitter account and posing him as a thug for all to see.  I mean, fuck people, really?  Then let's just for good measure get Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton in the mix and really fan the racism flames.  I'm sorry folks but I think these two men have done more to advance racism in this country than anyone else by a landslide.  I also refuse to refer to either man as Reverend.  That is a title for a religious leader who has a congregation and does God's work, not a jackass whos self indulgent media whorishness finds him clamoring for a photo op just AFTER an issue becomes national news, not before.  You know what, just for good measure, fuck both Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton, you bass-ackwards hate mongerers.  Dr. King is sitting in heaven right now ashamed of both of you and I personally hope God has him waiting on you when you get to the pearly gates just so he can bitch slap both of you to the hell you so richly deserve you backwards pompous arrogant pricks.

[If you'd like proof and statistics to back up my feelings on the good Mr. Jackson and Mr. Sharpton, consider that both routinely spout rhetoric about the crimes committed on the black man by the whites when FBI crime statistics actually prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that the actual inverse is true by a ratio of over 3 to 1.  If only the failure to back social commentary with reality was a convictable offense...]

Let's also address this little issue of racist comments about The Hunger Games casting choices.  To each side of this debate I have the same message.  Shut up and sit down.  It's a book series and a movie.  So what if a casting director doesn't follow the book exactly?  It's not like that's never been done before, believe me.  So what if someone has an issue with it and chooses to express themselves?  Deal.  It's as much their right to disagree publicly as it is yours to believe that shirt really matches those pants.  Everyone just settle the hell down a little and all will be okay.

So let's swing this thing back around full circle for a moment.  Racism exists.  It's a fact.  Is it wrong?  I believe so, definitely.  What can we do about it?  A lot of that depends on your tolerance for reality.  It's kind of like a bad joke I made the other day while discussing this issue with a friend.  Their assertion was that if the African-American community has the NAACP, why isn't there a group dedicated to the advancement of white people.  I stated that there was:  corporate America.  He didn't get the joke, but sadly a lot of us don't either.  Let's play a quick game of Reality-Themed-Follow-The-Bouncing-Ball.  Ready?

Everyone has the same opportunities in this country.
--> Why is a college education so expensive, and why do the top 33% paying jobs require at minimum a Bachelor's degree.

Equal Employment Opportunities laws require color (and other protected classes)-blind hiring practices from every employer in the country.
--> The best positions require the best education and the best backgrounds and connections.  Period.

Equal Housing Laws require that anyone can live anywhere without discrimination.
--> As long as they can afford to buy the property.  By the way, what were those stats on the racial breakdowns in Federally assisted housing once again?  78% racial minority as of 2009?

Federal assistance programs, such as unemployment, welfare, and medicaid are designed to help those in dire financial straits in times of need.
-->  Tell that to those people who refuse to take the easy road and have more than one job to keep a roof over their heads and the bills paid but can't get help to take a child to the doctor because they make $75 too much a year over an arbitrary standard.

Folks, I hate to tell you but racism, in a lot of ways, has just found a means to morph itself into a more socially pleasing platform called classism.  Granted it's just my less than humble opinion but think about it for a second.  When was the last time you went to a free clinic?  Did you happen to look at the faces around you?  Did you see a lot of BMW's in the parking lot that didn't belong to doctors?  How about the last time you filled out an application for a mortgage or an apartment lease.  Did they ask for your credit report?  Why do you think it's so important for a bank to know how you pay your bills outside of the obvious reasons?  Why were minority families the hardest hit group in the sub-prime mortgage crisis when all the foreclosures came raining down?  I find it funny that the upper 5% of wealth in this country remains under 10% minority, no matter how many advances we make.

Maybe I'm right or maybe I'm wrong but there is no denying that racism still exists in this country.  I can't in good conscience condemn those who actively harbor racist thoughts, it is their right after all, but I can vehemently disagree all day long.  Is there a solution for classism, racism's newest mask?  I don't know.  If there is I don't have the overreaching and all encompassing knowledge and perspective to solve it from a blog page.  Is the dumbass that shot Trayvon Martin in need of being hung out to dry?  Most likely, but only as long as it is done for the right reasons of his stupidity and not under some racial banner.  Would I still shoot a person in a hoodie that I found breaking into my home and trying to get past my dogs?

Read North Carolina's castle doctrine.  Abso-freakin-lutely.

Ignoranamuses on Parade

Sometimes you just have to feel sorry for people.

I'd love to be able to say I was tired or fed up with stupidity and ignorance and then flare off into some protracted diatribe, but the truth is I was done with ignorant people twenty years ago and everything I would say, no matter how pithy, would simply be rehashed sentiment.

Instead, I'd like to share a few stories that have absolutely flabbergasted me over the last week.  I'm honestly ashamed as a human being to say that these members of the herd are still kicking around and sucking up oxygen but, to be honest, I think I'm just too tired to care enough to do anything about it.

Genius #1:  As many of you know, I volunteer with a local library several days a week.  It not only gets me out of the house and out of my head but it affords me the opportunity to actually do something to help an institution that is in real jeopardy.  I'm working at the (such as it is) front counter this last Saturday when a woman comes in and wants to know where the ^&**&^ she can find a book on geometry because her "retard" kid has to do a report and it's due next week and he's too stupid to do it at school.  Obvious mother of the year material, but I digress.  Oh yeah, did I mention the kid was standing next to her the entire conversation, looking like the dictionary definition of brow-beaten embodied?  Still attempting to be polite and professional, I work a little computer magic and get an answer for the harpy.  I then take her by the claw down into the stacks and help her search for the book.  The only results are a few college level geometry texts that obviously require a basic grasp of algebra to comprehend.  Noticing that the kid was wiping his own snot with the back of his hand and then contributing to the mucus farming project he had going on his jeans, I was able to assess that we probably weren't dealing with Doogie Howser.  I explained to the mother that the books in our collection were probably far too advanced and asked her exactly what he needed to be able to do.  She replied that he had a list of shapes that he had to find a picture of and then draw out for his report. 

Here's where things went for a hard left.  I ask her if she has an internet connection at home.  She states that they do.  I ask her if she had tried to Google each term and then let him simply copy the picture that comes up.  She states no, it takes too much time.  I grimace and ask her where she lives.  She replies that she lives in Princeton, which is a forty five minute drive from said library, and that this is the fifth library they've been to that day.  She says she's getting frustrated because they've been at this for six hours at that point.

As a last ditch effort, I look online and find out that the public library in Smithfield, ten minutes from her house, has a juvenile level geometry book ready for shelving.  I call, reserve it for her, and send her back on her way.

Dear sweet mother of God. If that kid doesn't grow up to be a serial killer or a Congressman. . .

Genius #2:  Those of you that know me personally or have been reading this blog for a while know that I am slightly grumpy by nature.  It's a personality trait that some would call a flaw and I refer to as the price of being just marginally smarter than the average anteater.  One of my favorite deejays in the Raleigh area is Bob Dumas on G105, the ringleader of Bob and the Showgram Monday thru Friday mornings.  Bob has a LONG standing rule about never pulling forward at a drive thru window.  Period.  I thought it made sense, after all the only reason for them to ask you to pull up is if they either (a) weren't prepared for or (b) screwed up your order and they need to keep the line moving so their window times aren't profanely high when the manager runs the reports.  As a longtime fan of both Bob and grumpy-man logic, I adopted this rule years ago as well with one small modification:  I only refuse to pull up or park if it is obviously a situation bred from their own incompetence.  Last night, roughly around eight o'clock, I decide to run over to a restaurant that shall remain nameless simply because I feel I pick on them enough already to pick up dinner.  I sit in what is supposed to be a faster-now-that-they've-remodelled drive thru for twenty minutes for a nine dollar order.  I finally arrive at the window and am handed the wrong bag.  I show the young lady at the window my receipt and tell her this is not what I ordered.  Her reply: 'yes it is.'

Something deep in my soul begins to cry softly.  It would appear I've found another one.

My order was somewhat of a dollar menu fandango consisting of multiple items.  The large order of fries with two containers of sweet and sour sauce, while albeit tempting, wasn't quite going to fit the bill or justify the expense.  I politely decline and ask her to please check again.  Ten minutes later I find myself mystified as instead of being on my way with my bag o' cholesterol I am still sitting motionless with my foot on the brake as four people are standing inside the restaurant window apparently discussing my order and who had the fewest number of chromosomes.  A minute or so later a pimply faced attempt at a man who appeared to be at least somewhat in charge came to the window and told me that they needed me to park and that my food would be out to me in about ten minutes as the "dumb shits in the back" had "fucked up" my order. 

I politely refused to pull ahead and in fact put my truck in park for emphasis.  You would have thought my simple "I'm sorry but no.  I'll be right here when you get my order ready" signified the end of the civilized world for this being.  I swear to you he became so instantaneously angry that three or four zits actually visibly popped on his forehead.  He actually attempted to muster a little bass in his voice and then ordered me to move my truck and comply with his request.

Now yes, I could have taken the high road here.  I could have just moved the truck and laughed him off.  I know this.  But you know, there is something about a barely postpubescent Pizza the Hutt knockoff whose face is oozing a substance that is probably the substrate from which Gouda cheese is made attempting to bark orders at me that just rankles me a bit.

I cut off the ignition and, being an excellent driver, turned on my hazard lights.  After the fact I realized that not only had I just sunk to the moron's level but had in fact literally become the metaphorical immovable object.  I'm not sure but I think I even crossed my arms for emphasis.

Junior stormed off.  They began serving cars around me by walking orders out of the side door.  My hard headed streak was in full glory.  Roughly ten minutes later my order arrived.  It turned out that my original order had been sitting on the counter all along and that the original genius apparently can't read a receipt.  The manager on duty attempted to refund my money and give me the original order as well.  I told him no thank you, started my truck, and left.  To all those that I inconvenienced last night, I do apologize but sometimes you just have to make a point.  The sad thing is that I was too tired and disgusted by the time I got home to even bother sharing the experience with my wife.  All I could muster was a comment about the morons in the drive thru and just let it be at that.

Truth be told there are a number of additional examples I could give you but it would only serve to belabor the point.  I will just never understand why people in general feel it is okay to behave ignorantly.  I swear it's honestly become so tiresome that unless something just stratospherically moronic crosses my path, this will probably be the last post on this subject for a while. 

Who knew that dumbasses would eventually cease to be entertaining?

Happily Never After

Dear ABC, NBC, Fox, the CW, and just about every major movie studio worth a crap right now:

PLEASE KEEP YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF OF FAIRY TALES.  THANK YOU!

(Sometimes you have to change the font to prove you're serious.)

AAARRRGGHH!

(Sometimes you have to use all caps and made up words to show you're agitated.)

I'M SERIOUS DAMMIT - KNOCK IT OFF!

(And sometimes, just sometimes, you even have to use bold, italics, and a swear just a little bit to prove exactly how much of an overdramatic little literature nerd you're being about the whole situation.)

Boys and girls, I have just about had it with the current Hollywood trend of mucking around with fairy tales.  I'm tired of it, finished, fin, finito, done, over, I'm good, you can stop now and get off me (wait, was that an opinion or something said by a prom date?) 

Let's start with the movies, shall we?  2011 brought us a Little Red Riding Hood remake that most likely made one of the Brothers Grimm roll sideways in his coffin, burrow through the wood, reach over, and choke the life into and then back out of his brother's corpse.  It was a good enough flick I guess but it had about as much to do with the fairy tale as I do with designing fashion for little people that doesn't involve handles.  Yes it glossed over the basics so they could still call it Red Riding Hood, but come on people.  That's about the same as beating me with a baseball bat until I can't speak then tossing me in a wheelchair with a Speak n' Spell and trying to pass me off as Stephen-freaking-Hawking.  The only people who are going to really enjoy that show are the ones that don't know any better and the person who got to swing the bat. (NO, I'm not volunteering.  Wait, why is there a line forming outside?)

2012 doesn't seem as if it may fair any better, but in all fairness the jury is still far from finished in that deliberation.  We will be blessed with not one but two Snow White movies this year, one a Julia Roberts comedy and one a drama with the chica from Twilight.  I gotta give some credit to the venerable Ms. Stewart on this choice of role, however.  If you find yourself in a place in your career where you're about to all lose all professional credibility and finally succumb to the tween fan's demand of become all 'sparkly,' I'm not sure I could even imagine a better way to shore up the ol' resume than to do a Snow White movie filled with epic battle scenes.  Seriously, and I do mean this with all respect, will somebody find this woman a role in which she can be anything other than whiny predator bait?  While I do expect Snow White and the Huntsman to at least be watchable, I also expect Charlize Theron to overshadow anything else going on in the movie as she chews up scenery as the evil queen.  Dear Studio:  overreach on the casting much?  I'm not even going to touch the Julia Roberts as the evil queen version because, let's face it, she peaked after the first two Ocean's movies. 

As at least interesting as these two movies sound in concept, I'm very skeptical as to their faithfulness to the source material.  You can scour Netflix currently and find at least fifteen bad takes on classic fairy tales in an attempt to modernize the story.  Then you have ABC which has decided in all its broadcasting glory and wisdom to thrust Once Upon a Time upon all of us and try to make us smile while taking it deeply.  I'll once again give credit where it's due.  The show started out okay and actually had a fairly clever premise.  Now, however, it's totally devolved into some weird hybrid of a mishmash of fairy tales, Desperate Housewives, and a bad fairy tale send up porn I remember watching in college.  My wife dearly loves the show but honestly, I'm having a harder and harder time watching it just simply for the fact that it's beginning to become pandering drivel.  I barely made it through a very earnest scene in last Sunday's episode between the girl-who-used-to-be-on-House and the girl-who-used-to-be-on-Big Love without either needing alcohol and/or life support.  And while I'm at it, have you noticed lately that all the popular and at least marginally working sci-fi and fantasy actors are making the rounds between all these shows?  I swear I saw Fred from Angel on Supernatural, Grimm, Once Upon a Time, and How I Met Your Mother all within the same month.  (Granted HIMYM isn't a fairy tale, but when a gay man plays THAT straight there's got to be some pixie dust involved somewhere.)  I'm also going to give a pass to Fox's Supernatural and NBC's Grimm here just a bit.  They both butcher fairy tales with abandon on a regular basis but at least they have a tongue in cheek attitude about it and don't take themselves too seriously.

So why do these movies and television shows irritate me so badly.  Well, simply put, I'm a big fan of the source material.  Not the watered down fairy tales from when we were kids but the true, hard core stuff that made the Brothers Grimm legend.  These were the original horror stories.  These stories were the reason that things that go bump in the night bothered the good folks in Europe a couple of centuries ago.  Sorry kids but who are you going to be more afraid of, Rumpelstiltskin the Machiavellian mastermind who weekly performs a bad send up of Stephen King's Needful Things, or Rumpelstiltskin the demon who steals children to roast them on his spit?  Do the wicked stepdaughters get away with trying to steal Cinderella's prince or does his majesty swing his mighty pimp hand and order the girls' feet sliced off in strips until they fit the glass slipper?  Do both Hansel and Gretel get away clean?  Finally, and just for clarification folks, Red Riding Hood is actually cut from the belly of the wolf - the wolf isn't her father / boyfriend / whatever other romantic claptrap they want to foist upon you!  The Brothers Grimm fairy tales were mean, nasty, and honestly quite scary if you take the time to read them. 

Well here we sit, stuck with yet another week of television ripoffs of fairy tales and another summer somewhat stocked with heavily anticipated retreads of the same five hundred year old stories.  Is there anything wrong with enjoying these shows or seeing these movies?  No, they're there for entertainment.  My only concern is that there are more and more people who will just take these bastardizations as the real story and we'll inch one more step closer to a time when those stories heard around camp fires and told by agitated mothers will have slipped from literature and into history.  I guess all I'm asking for is that you do me one favor:  take whatever Team Edward or Team Jacob obsessed mongrel tween that you must tolerate on a regular basis to see Snow White and the Huntsman this summer then, as you get back to the car, wipe the popcorn grease from your fingers and give them a copy of the original Grimm's Fairy Tales.  An e-book will do in a pinch, I guess, but let's try for at least a nice copy with an actual hardback.  Better yet, stick a bookmark in it at the beginning of the Snow White story.  There now, you've done your job at an attempt to educate.  Now all you have to do is figure out how to make them read it while you're on your way to let them get something pierced.

(And sometimes you only swear once in an entire post just so your readers may catch on that this is actually worth giving a crap about...)

Updated Publication Schedule and Synopsis

I’ve received several emails over the last week that asked for an update on when to expect my first novel to be released.  A few of you have also asked for me to include a synopsis of it as well as my future planned work.  So, in response to your requests:

Bounce, will be released in April 2012.

Mack Reynolds has not had a good week.  His wife left him for the life she’d rather have, his kid doesn’t really like him anymore, his humidor is empty, and he’s very quickly running through his last two fifths of whiskey. While his life spontaneously combusts around him and his self-control exits stage right, Mack accelerates his fall from grace with all the good cigars, cheap booze, and out of control escapades he can muster.  Hitting bottom is a given.  What’s waiting for him when he gets there is the question.

By Design, targeted for late Q2 to early Q3 2012

For Nick and Dina, boy meets girl would have been a much simpler equation.  When two best friends work together and play together, the world of nightclub design takes on more twists and turns than some of the best roller coasters.  Worlds may collide all the time but when it happens even against someone’s most basic definitions of who they are, the simplest of decisions can have destructive consequences.

Hurricane Carolina, targeted late 2012

It all begins with a song.  Dr. Logan Scott’s life and career as a literature professor imploded in grand style and he has spent his time since hiding from the world and licking his wounds at his beach house.  He has no idea that the song he hears nightly from the crow’s nest of his home will not only bring him back into the world but plunge him headfirst into a whirlpool of local politics, hidden identities, and a rock n’ roll band named Circe.

The Valley of the Shadow of Death (working title), targeted late 2012 early 2013

College is the time to get your degree, learn about the world, and form lifelong friendships that form the very foundations of who you are.  It can also be a time of deeply guarded secrets, the blackest of betrayals, and the home to some of the worst sins imaginable.  As a group of college friends gathers to say goodbye to one of their own, they find that the past never really dies and that the truth can be more deadly than any secret.

Well, there you have it.  I will of course post updates when each book becomes available for purchase or download as the time comes.  I will also let those of you interested know that there are plans in progress for a launch party for The Bounce at the Bottom which should occur sometime in mid-April.  Please email me if you would like to receive an invitation for the event.

Just as a closing note I’d also like to take a minute once again to thank all of you that read this blog for your overwhelming response.  The purpose of this blog at its inception was to gauge whether or not I would have an audience if I moved forward with publishing my work and you all have proven me wrong as usual.  Thank you again and look forward to the new CS post a little later this week.

In Response #2

You know that you have a small child in your life when the first thing that pops into your head when you receive email is the song from Blue's Clues.  I came very close to doing a little dance around the living room while singing "We just got a letter, we just got a letter..." 

Note that I said close, not that I actually did it.  Even I have some limits.

So here we are on yet another fine day when the CS gets some email that needs a response.  So as not to seem ungrateful for all the email I do receive, I should note that I do get a good amount of feedback on most entries and I really do appreciate the fact that a number of you are actually involved enough and/or care enough to comment.

And for those of you who may be cringing at the thought of another of my replies to an email, I promise you that this one will be nowhere near as blatantly vulgar as the last reply was.

Oh who am I kidding?

Fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck. (If you don't get the joke, check out the original reply entry in January.  That's okay, we'll wait.  No seriously, go ahead.  Yes you with the glasses.  Please hurry up so you can be moderately chuckling with the other ten people currently reading this and we can move along...)

Now, I will give this individual their due.  This message was actually literate, well spoken, obviously thought out, and not really all that rude.  Obviously I've taken a bit of an issue with it, otherwise I wouldn't bring it as an entry, but in the sense of fairness I think it should be noted that this individual appears to be sincere in her comments.  Here is the text of the email for your perusal:

On March 13, 2012 at 10:32 a.m. Paula wrote:  Dear Brian,  I am taking a moment to write to you because after having read your blog in its entirety I feel I must take issue with you.  I hope you are the type of author that can accept constructive criticism.  I have been in the literary profession for many years and I hope you will take my words to heart.

You sir appear to be a talented heathen.  Your writing is mostly devoid of style and individualized voice other than the spewtum of your own opinions and ideas in response to the world around you.  I am given to understand that you are an educated man as indicated by your acquaintance that I have the pleasure of working with at this time.  I find it appalling that an educated man must resort to profanity and other low ideas as avenues of self expression.  I am also told that you have developed a moderate readership as well, although I deign to give them more account than a common neanderthal.  I feel it is necessary to remind you that as an author you have a responsibility to uplift your readers and expose them to new ideas.  Your unrefined approach to the uplifting of the mundane in no way satisfies that responsibility.

Please take my comments to heart as your online work does have its redeeming side as well.  You obviously have a gift for the comedic, although it does tend to focus on the baser side of existence.  I feel that if you were to elevate your technique and mode of expression you would find that your writing will appeal to an even wider audience.

If I also understand correctly you are also a novelist of some measurable talent and are in the process of publishing several novels over the coming months.  I have read selected portions of your work and find it distasteful, devoid of basic morality, and misogynistic to such a degree that offensive barely seems an appropriate adjective. I implore you sir to closely monitor what you put forth into the literary world.  The modern market is full of mountebanks and charlatans who push drivel in front of the masses.  Please do not allow yourself to become one of their ilk.

Please consider my words carefully as they are brought from a place of experience.  I might also remind you that as an advertised fiction writer you have no works of fiction present in your online work.  You may also consider that as you revisit your chosen mode of self expression.  Please remember that you have a responsibility to your audience to inspire and challenge, not  enteratin with mindless vulagrity.

Yours, Paula [name withheld]

Well, where do I begin? (insert the sound of cracking knuckles here)

First of all Ms. Paula, thank you for your submission.  I am actually the kind of writer who will listen to any and all criticism, constructive or otherwise.  I know at this point several of my readers are expecting me to make short work of your letter.  I'll be honest.  The raging immature twelve year old inside me wants to pick you apart faster than a fat kid on a growth spurt can decimate a bucket of KFC.  However, as you are obviously a professional in our shared field to some degree, I'll refrain from shivving you with the literary equivalent of Michael the Archangel's flaming sword and try to respond with a modicum of intelligence.

I'm glad you took the time to read the entire blog, line for line and post for post.  In my opinion this makes you at least qualified to voice an opinion.  Personally I think that's a rarity in this world and you should be congratulated for not being an overopinionated douche canoe who speaks without clue one about what you're discussing.  I also appreciate you taking the time to read the selections of my work as a novelist that you were provided with by our mutual friend.  I'll never throw vehement chunks of congealed hate on anyone who actually reads my work without just and due cause.  

Now for the tough part.  Ms. Paula, I hope you are the kind of woman who can also take a little return criticism.  I'd like to start by asking you where directly the fuck do you get off insulting my readers?  I am the FIRST person to say, as I have over and over again, that my writing for this blog is simply what comes out of my overaddled brain ladled thickly over an overwrought opinion or three.  That's a given.  But to relegate anyone who reads me regularly to an extinct species of knuckledragger is just comical.  Honey, I hate to be one the tell you (particularly as it is purely spewtum from the recesses of my slightly stained gray matter) but using twelve dollar vocabulary words to demean anyone is just about as country-airs-ignorant as it gets!  

You know what, fuck it.  I said I was going to be polite and professional about this but lady you have legitimately pissed me off.  Let's get a couple of things straight right now sweetheart.  I AM NOT NOW NOR WILL I EVER ASPIRE TO BE PART OF THE UPPER CRUST OF SOCIETY.  I could become filthy rich tomorrow afternoon and there will STILL be a Ford F150 parked in my driveway.  You're very right, I am educated.  I am also one of the crankiest Johnston County North Carolina rednecks you will ever have the displeasure of pissing off. 

So to hell with the polite response.  Here's my resposne lady and I hope you strap it to a dildo and choke on it!  Of course my work doesn't have an individualized voice.  It's a goddamn blog you elitist snob!  The only voice involved is my voice.  It's all my opinions, good bad and in-fucking-different.  And just in case you haven't noticed yet sugarbritches, we live in a low and base world.  It's quite literally all around us at any given time.  I hope for your sake that a bum tries to wash the windshield on your Jag on the way home from work tonight and does a really shitty job.  A little imperfection is a good thing.  It's just like the majority of the people who read my work regularly.  They are normal people with normal lives.  Deriding anyone for just living day to day and finding normal life entertaining should be liegally punishable by a very deep and public wedgie, although from the sound of things the stick that is currently lodged so far up your ass as to make your soul look like it took friendly fire on a spear fishing expedition would probably prevent any good fabric lodging from occurring, even if we ran your prim and proper ass up a flag pole by your bloomers!

I only hope to God Almighty that one day someone has the good sense to soil a doily covered tabletop in your home with one of my books.  Honey, no real harm intended but if you think what I write is offensive I've got a really good friend who writes necrophelia in such a way that you find yourself choked up with tears and vomit at the same time.  I challenge you to open your mind enough to appreciate that level of art sister.  I'm a dick and fart joke artist by comparison.  And just so we're clear Princess Precious Panties, I find basic morality just about as boring and not worth my time as a fifty four year old virgin whose idea of a blow job involves politely holding a penis by two fingers, lifting her pinky, and delicately streaming air across the tip from no less than six inches away while wearing white gloves and her best Sunday hat.

Now as far as your commentary on the modern literary market... Honey let me put it to you this way:  I pray on a nightly basis to become one of those wildly sucessful montebanks and charlatans that foist drivel on the masses.  I'd even sacrifice a goat if it would help.  So much for the heathen comment, huh?   And as far as misogynistic goes, just for the record, the piece you're reading is from my current book which is told from the first person perspective of a blatant misogynist.  Not to sound too much like my grandfather here or anything but "well duh you fucking dumbass."  I'd be surprised if that book doesn't get me at least one good and nasty feminazi letter along the way.  The main character uses women to mask his failings in life.  What did you expect, Gloria Steinem with a cock?  For chrissakes lady the main character wakes up in the college dorm room of a woman nearly twenty years his junior after an all night bender.  Why don't you use that razor keen intellect to dissect something other than someone's ability to swear in a grammatically appropriate context, you simple piece of simpering crotch offal. 

Okay, deep breath time.

Look Ms. Paula, I actually do appreciate criticism and you're very right about one thing out of all of it:  I do have a responsibility to my readers and you are now one of them (and I hope you point every last person you know to this blog and let them read just how mean and ignorant I really am, chuckle chuckle).  I have the responsibility to entertain.  I am not now nor will I ever probably be the next Hemingway.  If my work shows up one day in a college classroom it will probably be more of an example of what not to do but guess what, I am great with that.  I know full well who I am and who my readers / fans are as well.  While I am at least moderately educated and appreciate the classics probably more than the next guy, I have no delusions of becoming elevated to their ranks.  I'll take a minor mention next to Butcher, King, Rowlings, Meyer, and Sparks as a contemporary and be beyond thrilled. 

You're also right in that I don't feature my fiction on my blog.  There's a reason for that, trust me.  As we get closer to a release date I will publish a seperate web site for my fiction and we'll proceed under that heading there.  This is my blog and it is its own creature.  Trust me when I say you should place the emphasis on creature.  I can't even begin to explain the kind of life-of-its-own this project has taken on over the past few months.

I will conclude by saying that even after all I've said, I do still appreciate the fact that Ms. Paula felt that she needed to voice an opinion.  All are welcome to do so, just keep in mind that when you try to belittle or degrade I am probably going to target your holier-than-thou-ass for a prompt verbal sodomizing.  I also feel obligated to share the additional piece of information that I know exactly what this individual does for a living and feel that I should mention that she is not now nor has ever attempted to be a published writer in any field.  With that being said, I feel confident in closing this response as follows:

Before you choose to comment on anyone else's work, Ms. Paula, please make sure you have at least attempted to do something similar yourself.  Presenting yourself as qualified to speak on a subject in which you have little experience makes you less than ignorant.  It makes you common, random, and a sad example of what happens when someone feels a level of unjustified self importance.

To put it simply for those of us in the less cultured masses: 

Paula, eat a dick.

 

The Numbers Don't Lie... Or Do They?

Happy Monday to all my loyal disconcerted malcontents and, aside from those five people, all the other good folks who like to peruse my little collection of mental dribblings.

I was reading an article this weekend on 'how to self-publicize' as a writer (strangely enough it was from the same web site that I was originally pointed to by the first person who told me I should write a blog).  The author of this little piece of directional guidance stated that once you have a blog up and running for a while, in their indication a month or so, it's always a prudent investment of your time to check your viewing statistics and see what your readers actually like.  They further stated that on occasion they, as a scribbler themselves, have even gained ideas for new work based upon what they see from blog statistics. 

While I was reading I was comparing my mental notes about some of the absurdities I've foisted out on you good folks as I've written my first thirty entries and where some of that could potentially take me in the future.  After laughing myself nearly to the point of hypoxia, or was it hyperplexia (don't worry, I needed Google to get the joke myself), I decided to take this random dudette's advice and see what the numbers had to say about my dear little fanclub.

Now before I begin I do have one confession to make.  I already regularly look at my page views for the blog but for purely narcissistic reasons.  Mainly, and I swear to your divinity of choice I mean this, I still have a little trouble believing that anyone reads this stuff and even moreso the actually number of hits I get on certain pages.  I've learned that if I really toss out some garbage I won't get but maybe twenty hits in a day.  I've also learned that if I actually give mental birth to something of some minor merit I get some fairly silly results.  I've also learned that I'm fairly popular with the Android and Windows crowd but not so much with Apple and iOS.  Guess I don't fix in very well with the Aesthetic, huh?  That's okay, I've never been much of a whine and cheese guy but I do still greatly appreciate the 3% of my readership that hails from the Jobsian Cloud!

Hey, call it cheap validation.  There was actually a day a few weeks back that I got over three hundred hits in a six hour period and I didn't have to play a stuttering faux-lesbian on Buffy to get it to happen (sorry to Ms. Benson for yet another shot across the bow but I have to be honest, your stuff really does make me feel better)!

So, with all of that front loaded and bullshit ridden chicanery out of the way, let's get down to the good stuff.  Based on the numbers, what have you, my semi-loyal when-you-run-out-of-the-comics-and-obituaries readers, chosen as your favorite of my scribblings to date?

Coming in at number five was "With All Thanks And Due Respect" in which we discussed some of the abuse and neglect facing our veterans.  Number four in popularity to date has been "Scenes from a Wedding" which recounted some of the silliness surrounding our impromptu wedding in early February.  Tied for third on the popularity list was "Yet Another Scene from a Wal-Mart," the compelling saga of a loud mouthed cashier finally getting one over on a jerk, and "Women Be Evil" which told the story of an early twenties seductress and her comically manipulated and grease stained victim.  Number two on the list with a fairly respectable pile up of over 750 hits was "Scars and Souvenirs" in which we discussed self-worth, accomplishment, really good stories, and the scars they leave us with.  Finally, in the number one spot with well over 1000 hits was "Faith and Religion," otherwise known as my little rant on religious tolerance and stupidity.

(On a personal note, congratulations to Mr. Hunt whose triumphant surgery scar took second place to Ralph the Head of Lettuce and a Solstice Orgy.  Personally I was rooting for you buddy but the people have spoken.  At least you beat out the little McDonald's whore and Wally World and, judging by the crowd, I'd consider that an achievement in and of itself!)

So what does it all mean?  Well, personally I think I've got a fairly good number of readers who will definitely slow down to look at a car wreck and make horrible jokes at the victims' expense later that evening.  This of course makes you very much my kind of people and I'm proud to somewhat know you.  But seriously, I do have one question though.  WAL-MART tied for number three with a sexually manipulative just past high school douchebaguette?  Really?  I'm not sure whether to be comforted, disturbed, or just nod my head in resignation and move on quietly.

And now we get to the fun part.  Following the sage like advice of this article's author, I shall now try to draw inspiration for a new story based on what everyone seems to have liked the most in my blog to date.  Someone cue the bad stage magician soundtrack and let's see if we can do this math together...

Soliers and Veterans + Goofy Wedding Stories + Wal Mart Hijinks + Evil Seductress + Hapless Victim + Scars + God(s) and Such = ..................

You know I haven't got a clue, although I will hazard the guess and say a part of this really sounds like an amalgamation of a couple of Nicholas Sparks novels.

Well, I hope that was as much of a load of giggle infested hilarity for all of you as it was for me.  If anyone can make sense of that pile of randomness and comes up with an idea, let me know.  I'll give you co-author credit.  Better yet, just write it yourself.  You'll probably do a better job than I would but I'll still be happy to pimp your stuff for you. 

Let's see exactly how long it takes this entry into the blogosphere to reach ten hits.  I'm guessing at least a month. 

Time to get back to doing what I do best.  Maybe later today I'll even find time to get some writing in for good measure.

[Updated precisely one hour after first posting:  27 hits in an hour.  I sit very much corrected and to a slight degree less humble than I was a few hours ago.  Thank you sirs and madams and my apologies for discounting your taste (or lack thereof).  I promise the next one will actually be worth reading!]

So What Are These "Bee-ooks" of Which You Speak?

(Special thanks in advance to one of my large and furry friends for the great line on Facebook which I am shamelessly cribbing for a title.  Sometimes you just can't do it without a little help from the omnipresent and always wiser than you'd like to admit peanut gallery.)

Good soggy morning to you all.  It's raining like someone left the celestial spigot on again so I decided it might just be time for a little 'hey-y'all-watch-this" moment for your entertainment from your thirty-fifth favorite writer.  No, seriously.  I actually had someone refer to me as their thirty-fifth favorite writer the other day and yours truly took it as a compliment.

Talk about desperate for validation, right?

Moving right along ...

For my little parlor trick today I'm going to take issue with my own industry, as it were, and pray quietly that in doing so I don't come off as more of a raving jackass than I usually do.  Again with the validation thing but hey, it is MY sandbox after all.

At the risk of sounding like this line should be read by Bob Saget:  "Kids, we really need to talk about these e-books."

Before I begin to spiral off into the land of high pretention, or even give the illusion that I might, let me be clear about something.  I KNOW we live in the digital age.  I KNOW that mass marketability and consumption demand a digital presence.  I KNOW that just as soon as I finish this damn book and submit it for publication it will end up as an e-book and that of the ten copies I will probably sell seven will be digital.  I KNOW and I ACCEPT that I actually have a problem with something that I not only own but buy regularly and will probably be a part of the measure of whatever microtome thin measure of success I achieve as an author.  YES I KNOW I'M A RAVING HYPOCRITE ABOUT THE ENTIRE ISSUE.

The fact of it all is that no matter how many of the damn things I have on my phone or laptop and no matter how many of them I want to potentially sell over my career as a wordsmith, I KINDA HATE E-BOOKS.

Maybe my hatred is just symptomatic of getting old or just old fashioned.  Simply put, I've wanted to be a writer for most of my life.  I have this picture in my head of a bookshelf or two filled with my own work.  Not a bookcase full, mind you I'm nowhere near that grandiose, but just a shelf or two filled the tangible creations of my warped little mind that one day a grandchild of mine might bump into in the family library.  I have this goofy idea of a member of my future family reading one of my books and shaking their and laughing at what a crazy shit their grandfather was back in the day.  Come to think of it, that's actually the image I have of my mother's dad now.  Huh, go figure...

Now take just a second and peel the patina of sentimentality off that cute little image.  Nowhere in that little picture did I mention little Johnny pulling out his Kindle Fire 32 while waiting at the doctor’s office and finding one of his grandfather's books in the "Don't Even Bother Except for the Fact that it's Free" section, right next to Bubba and the Dead Girl 27.  Kind of a different notion now ain't it?  (No true disrespect to the author of Bubba and the Dead Girl.  I tend to use that book, like Amber Benson's blog, as proof that no matter how badly I may think I suck I know in my heart that at least I'm not that bad.)

I like to think of myself as at least a somewhat creative person.  Delusional, possibly, but at least somewhat creative.  I tend to believe that being creative requires the creation of something tangible.  Something material that you can put your hot little hands on, pick up, carry around and/or potentially throw at someone.  You just can't do that with an e-book.  Yes I understand the convenience of the damn things.  As I said before I have many of them and use them several times a week.  But there is something to be said about a book, a real, actual book.  I volunteer currently at a struggling library.  The whole place has that book smell to it.  It occurs to me as I walk through the fiction section that there are all these authors around me that I'm fighting to become a contemporary of and with.  I actually get a sense that, for better or worse, my work in whatever small way will actually be part of history and could very well end up in a library just like this one day.  (Where do you think I'm planning to plant a good chunk of my review copies?)  I just don't get that feeling browsing the B&N catalog online.  In fact, the only real feeling I get when I do that is a slight discomfort in my lower back from my slowly giving up the fight recliner and a moderate feeling of anxiety over where that last cheese curl I dropped might have gotten off to.  I guess that's what I get for watching late night TV, naked, while eating cheese curls and browsing for e-books.  Well, actually scratch that.  I don't think I was naked.  In reality I think I was still wearing socks.

E-Books.  Are they convenient? Yes.  Do they really diminish from the experience of reading?  With AMOLED screens and the like on e-readers, they probably make it better.  Do they do a lot for ease and accessibility for readers, particularly when it comes to having a book nearby at all times and discovering new authors easily?  Definitely. 

Why do I hate them?

Really, I have no clue.  Maybe I'm just a burgeoning Luddite.  Maybe I need to yell at the neighbor kid to get off my lawn again.  Or maybe it's just that I'm confronted on a daily basis with the realization that technology is changing our world rapidly and that some things, like actual books and not their digital counterparts, may actually be heading the way of the dinosaurs.  That's an extinction event I just don't believe I'm up for this week.

To close this out, let me go ahead and answer the one glaringly obvious comment right now.
"But Brian, you write a BLOG for chrissakes.  How can you have the balls to bitch about e-books?"  My response... nothing.  Just do me a favor and buy the paperback when I publish the blog as a book, okay?

Hulk Smash! and Other Anger Related Issues

My dear and caring readers, I'm going to warn you in advance that you may have to just smile, nod, and indulge me on this one.  To quote veteran Hollywood show runner and writer Ken Levine (who's blog is actually really good if you get a chance to read it), what good is it to have a blog if you can't vent your frustrations every now and again?

Kids, I am not a happy camper.  I can't go into the exact reasons for my less than shall we say up with humanity mood at the moment as they are nowhere near anyone else's concern or business unless they're already involved.  Sorry but even in the blog universe there are some things, yes even for a writer, that need to remain private and these couple or three case studies in aggregious human fucked-up-itude fall into that category.

You know, I've been at the point over the last few days of being so amped up, pissed off, and just generally redneck country ill that I'm having trouble sleeping, my blood pressure is doing weird things, and no matter how much punishment I dish out to myself at the gym I can't seem to settle down and just chill out.  I am well aware of the urge inside me right now.  It's that little demon inside me that knows exactly how satisfying it is to just knock the living shit out of something that's bothering me and watch it lay there and bleed quietly in front of me.  At the risk of sounding like more of a complete nutbag than usual, I sort of liken that need to smack the shit out of something to Dexter's 'dark passenger' in a way.  It's been part of my psyche for as long as I can remember but unlike that particular fruit cake I tend to keep a handle on mine pretty well.  I haven't lost total control of that particular little monkey since college with the exception of an occasional instance where there was a bit too much Jack consumed and a bit too much trashed talked and the months immediately following my divorce in 2003.  Hey I'm not the most proud of those instances but, all things considered and if you knew my ex-wife, well, I'm not exactly how sure how much of those really should be held against me anyway.

So while I've had some additional time on my hands to stew and brood the last few nights (and by the way, I now get why the good superheroes brood a lot - it really focus the grrr factor) I've started to really try to analyze where all this comes from and why so many people fall victim to it.  I wasn't raised in an abusive home by any means.  My parents made mistakes like all parents do but I made it to adulthood realitively unscathed in my opinion.  I know I figured out early on in my teenaged years that I was a lot bigger than others but I can only think of one real time that I was truly a bully to someone else. 

So once again I get left with the question:  where does this urge to full on Wookiee beat a couple of particular members of our herd come from?  I'm sure I could start asking around but I know the responses I would get:  genetics, racial memory, head trauma, psychological disturbance, too much metal, or even maybe my buddy's patented response to what's wrong with me lately... a tumor! 

The fact of it all is that as a man nearing forty you would think that I should have the ability to control my brain better than this by now.  A friend of mine recommended to me that I should take up meditation again.  All I could do is smile and say 'yeah great thanks for the advice.'  For more reasons than I will ever tell anyone again I will not go back down that road.  Maybe I need to try therapy again, although the last time I tried that ten years ago resulted in my post divorce mini rampage and a string of questionable decisions. 

So here we are, back to my attempt at a positive, productive outlet for my frustration and anger.  You know you're a writer when you decide to vent your vexations in the generic to your readership in an attempt to keep your blood pressure down to the level where you don't hear your heartbeat in your ears.  I'm given to understand that is not a good thing.  My wife has explained to me that if it happens again I get to go see the idiots at the hospital who engage in guesswork in white coats and let them explain it to me.  (I've also come to understand that the previous statement is actually mature wife-speak for SETTLE DOWN BEAVIS, which computed in my little brain much, much more easily.)

Now before anyone decides to start scheduling the intervention or telling me that there is no use in getting upset about things I can't control, allow me to assure you that I am perfectly aware of all those truisms.  This is just how I'm wired.  I've never hit a female in my life that wasn't on a sparring mat with me and hitting back, I've never physically punished a child more than a firm swat on the rear for acting up when talking didn't work any more, and I swear that if I had started handing out all the random ass kickings that I've wanted to over the years I would have never had a full time job in my existence.

The fact of it all is that I am just so very sick and fucking tired of adults who refuse to behave like they were raised by anything other than mongrel coyotes.  To say I'd like to drag a few folks out behind the wood shed right now and beat them like their daddy should have is an understatement of galactic proportions.

Do I want to go full on Hulk Smash on some jagoff right now? 

God yes.

Will I? 

No, but for a huge number of reasons that have nothing to do with age, ability, or willingness.  The truth of it all is that yielding to an impulse to hand out ass whippins like playing cards would only complicate, exascerbate, and or completely misdirect all of these situations and frankly it's just not worth it in the long haul. 

I think when it comes down to it, things that are outside of my control are what drives me the craziest.  I've spent a good portion of my life being the guy who fixed problems and when I can't do anything to fix what's glaringly and blazingly glowing white hot with what is in only my opinion the dumb ass bullshit of others, I start seeing red big time.

Thanks for letting me be a little more than usually self indulgent here boys and girls.  Yes, I know things will eventually work out for the best as always.  Yes, I know people for the most part are inherently good and sometimes just simply lose their way in life.  And yes, I do know that as long as people are alive they have the opportunity to correct their mistakes and get on with living a normal life.

Does any of that make me feel any better though?

I'll let you know after I headbutt the side of the house for a few hours later this afternoon.