A Few Interesting Developments

Before I even start today's (very past-due) post, I need to thank the 200 something people that visited the site in the span of a day to get my numbers up.  You guys are friggin' great.  Also, regular great.

This week's recommended reading:  Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.

Look, if you haven't read anything by Terry Pratchett, you are doing yourself a disservice.  Put down whatever poorly written tome you're currently investing yourself in, and grab literally anything written by this man.  His talent for satire is unsurpassed.  If you aren't well read, you'll miss layers upon layers (onion, not parfait.  Boom, Shrek reference.  Suck it 2001 [layers!]) of word play and parody.  Even if you don't get the references though, he is always on point for entertainment.

I don't even know where to start with Neil Gaiman.  Everything he touches turns into mind blowing, weapons grade literature.  He gets more BBC specials than Doctor Who, even boasting several movies (re: Stardust), AND writing a few Doctor Who episodes.  Can you imagine how badass that has to be? No, you can't.  That's how bad ass it is.

He beat someone up with the cup...
Then stole the belt.

Get this book.

Speaking of good reads, an up and coming writer, friend, all around awesome mother*****, Brad Newton has granted me privilege to read the beginnings of his latest short.  Part 1 is here, followed by Part 2.  I'm generally pretty critical of stuff people send me, you know, to cull the weak, eliminate competition, sometimes I just feel like being a dick, but Brad is talented.  Our styles are different, but I won't lie, I'd team up with him on a co-lab.

Biggest news comes from Enasni Volz; E's fan flick with her main squeeze Puddin (heh, it's funny that I know his real name but I find it difficult to call him anything else), Mad Love has made its kickstarter goal!  As Joker and Harley, they already rock.  Now they get to be all sorts of awesome on screen.  Keep up with the both of them to ... keep up with them.

How can you not love them?!

In lesser news (though, still frightfully important), Global Lion got my partial for Trader.  Zack Y. (who is pretty much the nicest dude in the industry that I've found) has officially stoked my ego by calling my writing stellar.  His presentation to my possible agent is happening soon. His only caveat was that I get my social media presence out there.  I know I ask a lot of you beautiful people, but start Tweeting and Facebooking (and to a lesser extent, Myspacing) about Trader.  This is going to happen.  Shit is about to get real.

Oh, to keep you motivated, My Own Cel (the story of Trader's psychotic ex-girlfriend) now has a pretty damn good plot, if I do say so myself.  That's right, book two of the Trader saga is on its way.  In the meantime, going to really apply myself to M^6, as I've finally (and accidentally) come up with some interesting story that I want to work in.

I adore you guys.

Mostly him though.

Eddard Stark's Losers of the Week

Cosplaying as a Nazi is a dead give away.

Eddard Stark’s Losers of the Week

Our first Loser of the Week is one Christopher Jason Ross.  The full article, written by a wonderful cosplayer, can be found here. 

Down and Dirty: This guy is a creep on a whole next level.  Trolling for cosplay girls, acting like a douche, then acting like an even bigger douche, vomiting his emotional garbage, showing a scary broken-mental-state side, and ending his tirade in douchery. 

I know most of my friends who read this are big into cosplay, or the military, so I’m personally asking that if you run into this guy or any guy like him at a con, close the distance, engage, and destroy.  

Fuck this guy.  And his balls.

There is no room for people like this.  Not anywhere, especially not at cons.  Please please please keep your friends safe.  Remember, cosplay is not consent.  We work so well as a community of nerds because of the common denominator of respect.  Assholes like this don’t belong anywhere near us.

Eddard’s judgment:  Castrate him.  Then send him to the Wall.

But he has the balls to keep wearing
the uniform.

Up for the number two spot is PV2 Christopher Munoz.  You can find him on facebook, or the support page that I think his mother set up.

Down and Dirty: This man is a coward.  Upon receiving orders to deploy, he claimed status as a conscientious objector.  When inundated with a lot of hate, his mother or wife or whatever called racism, spouting crazy shit like there were entire regiments of Mexicans fighting separately in the Army.  Now they are trying to get support for a petition to let him honorably discharge, with full benefits.

Ahem… Fuck you.  Personally, CO’s aren’t bad people.  Check out cracked.com, you can see highlights of the most badass examples of people who would not fight, but neither are they cowards in any sense of the word.  And that makes sense, because up until the end of Vietnam, we had a draft.  This has been a volunteer Army for a while now, in a time of war.  In fact, when you sign up, they ask you several times whether or not you are a CO.  When you swear your oath, the words “…without any mental reservation…” appear in there.  This kid – who has not deployed – just wanted the benefits, and now that he has to earn what millions have before him, doesn’t want to play anymore.  And he STILL thinks he’s entitled to everything that a veteran is.  As far as the racism thing goes; I’ve served with and for men blacker than Don Cheatle, Whiter than Richard Nixon, and more Hispanic than Che Guevara.  We don’t care what proportionality of the nation our demographics represent.  All we care about is whether or not you are worthy, capable, and brave enough to wear the uniform.  This man is a coward, plain and simple.

Eddard’s judgment:  This man broke his oath...

In the name of Robert
Baratheon, the first of his name...

In other news, here’s the recent response I got for a query:

“Your query regarding “Trader” has been evaluated. This story is an excellent example of many of the greater aspects of humorous science fiction. An unapologetically flawed protagonist, his quirky acquaintances, and the air of misfortune he can’t quite seem to shake off. Seems highly reminiscent of stories like Buck Godot: Zapgun for Hire. You’re clearly passionate about your work, you have an excellent tone, and there’s no doubt as to your understanding of the genre. If you’d like to send along additional information regarding the book, such as a sampling of the manuscript, an author biography, and any social media you may have established in support of the book, I would be glad to investigate your story further. Mr. Miller isn’t altogether interested in science fiction works at the moment, but if your manuscript is of the caliber implied by your synopsis I will compile the information for presentation. Please send this information either to this email address or queries@globallionmgt.com for further review. If you have not previously considered social media outlets like facebook, tumblr, etc. for self-promotion of your works, I recommend doing so. It is an important step in assisting oneself in pursuing publication, and it will make it easier both to find a representative and convince a publisher to go forward with the work. I wish you the best in these endeavors.

This guy looks hella classy.

Additionally, a Time Magazine article featuring one of our clients, Sir Ken Robinson, is enclosed regarding his book, “Finding Your Element,” which will be on the New York Times bestseller list June 16th.”

…Winning… 

JC out.

This Week in Entertainment

Featured: Boobs.

Deadpool:  A game review.

He slices, he dices, he breaks down the 4^th wall.  Deadpool is back (was he ever really gone?!) in his own game about his own game. 

Published by High Moon Studios (makers of the forgettable Transformers games, sorry Erin), Deadpool is your less than standard 3^rd person hack and slash.  Not less than standard in terms of quality, I mean in terms of this is not your regular video game.  At all.

Plus, a whole lotta
exploding Gambits.

If you love Deadpool, you’ll understand the humor.  If you don’t, you will.  As far as hilarity goes, this game delivers, without fail, laughs.  From DP cooking pancakes, to the song ‘Who the Fuck is That?” this may surpass Borderlands for sheer hilarity. 

Also, that ASS.

Plus, it allows to you to be the superhero you’ve always wanted to be.  Feel to constrained by being an Avenger?  Not allowed to kill anyone because you belong to the X-men?  Well fuck all that.  Deadpool doesn’t care about Super-villain monologues, dramatic posturing (other than from himself), elaborate schemes (again, other than his own), or any of that too thick plot crap.  Nope, when confronted with a bad guy, gal, whatever, like Vertigo, he makes his great D-list villain jokes, then shoots her right between the eyes.  Because FUCK Vertigo, that’s why.  Witty, mouthy, badass-y, Deadpool don’t take no shit from no one. 

So we won’t hold the whole ‘Canadian’ thing against him.

Buy it, worth every damn penny (especially to watch him punch Mr. Sinister right in the dong).

Every reason you need to watch this.

The Haunted World of El Superbeasto:  A movie review.

Rob Zombie wrote, and probably directed, El Superbeasto in the 90’s.  I might need to do some fact checking, but I’m too lazy.  Doesn’t matter, it’s amazing.  And it’s based on a comic.

For zombie Nazis and demons, there’s no better movie out there.  Not even Dead Snow.  Because they’re Norwegian, that’s why. 

Yes, that is pickled Fuhrer.

It’s the tale of washed up A-list celebrity / luchadore El Superbeasto, his adopted sister Suzy X (the x is for extra boners, it says so in the song), thin nerd bent on world domination Dr. Satan, and the girl you think about when you’ve got your wiener in your hand Velvet Von Black. 

Highly recommended if you miss the days of Rocco’s Modern Life or Ren and Stimpy.  Funny, deadpan, worth the hour and twenty minutes.  It’s on Netflix.

That’s all, I couldn’t really think of anything else to write this week, so I went with that.

A great cosplay idea.  BTW the gun is set to 'Shut Up Bitch'

Had a sweet-ass dream (unfortunately, not a sweet ass-dream) about dry rain, and two lovers so intense that it set the world aflame, and they didn’t stop until they were naught but ash – seriously, that’s what the narrating voice said, I can’t make this shit up.  So, I’ve got some better ideas for Marcus and Marlin Mardis: Master Monster Murderers.  Expect some more to come out for that soon.

Still waiting on… 12 more agents to tell me yay or nay for Trader.  3 rejections in three weeks.  Not really worried, but not really hopeful either.  The guy who wrote The Pelican Brief said that for every 10 manuscripts he wrote, only 1 was good.  Guess I gotta get my ass in gear.

Have a great week peoples.

New work out is posted.

Happenings, Doings, Shameless Promotions

It's been a long few weeks.  Dragon Con looms on the horizon.  Books are being written.  Things are being made.  Laws are being passed.  People are doing pretty awesome stuff.

Aw yeah!

Gambit

So here's my line up for Dragon Con 2013 (and you better be following the workout.  It's working out, or so say some people.  I remain skeptical):

Who doesn't love Toki?

Gotta steal a monkey.

As far as books go, Book 2 of Trader might be a thing.  I can't stop thinking about how crazy Cel is, and how she should have her own story.  M^6 might merge with Ariana, but it'd be a stretch.  I just can't not write.  There's so much going on in my head.

The printer works!  Also, finally figured out the whole molding/casting process.  Working on Mass Effect weapons at the moment, and working out the kinks to the whole endeavor.  More pics to follow on that, it takes time, but if you wanna see something specific, let me know.  I still want to do some characters (like Cassie Hack), so this deployment, while not very busy, will be at least productive.  Expect to see merch at Demarr's booth.  Some of you are getting them for free.

DOMA is dead.  This is possibly the greatest civil rights event in our generation (the Y generation) that we'll live to see.  Some of the dumbest fucking things I've heard in favor of DOMA is that A: Traditional Marriage is between a man and a woman.  B: God does not approve of gay marriage.  C:  So gays are okay now?  They're going to sleep with children, where's it going to end?

A: 'Traditional' marriage, the form that we are most familiar with these days, came from the middle ages when marriage was a form of contract.  That's right, back when women were mostly property and men needed to secure land holdings.  Don't forget to beat your wife.  Dumbass.

B: First of all, marriage in the United States is a civil matter.  Which is why you can do it in a court room.  I fail to understand what the fuck God has to do with any part of it, especially when there's that whole 1st Amendment thing.  Freedom of and FROM religion.  Oh and going back to the middle ages, monks used to join in civil unions (with other monks) blessed by the Pope.  The guy with the direct line to God.  So... tell me about traditions again?

C: Being gay isn't some weird disease that forces you to have sex with other gays (or other people, or children) any time, any place.  Like us straight folk, they have standards (theirs are usually much higher though, that's why they work out all the time).  But, like us straight folk, yeah, some of them are pretty fucked up.  PEOPLE are the common denominator when it comes to doing horrible things to other people.  Don't blame it on a group.

Which provides a segue into the whole Pork Bullets thing.

There is no Shermer
Illinois

Taffeta posted a week ago about these morons selling bullets laced with pig blood to send muslims to hell.  Some of the responses she got were mind numbingly stupid.  So here's a message to everyone who thinks they have a valid opinion on the matter:  Extremists come from all walks of life.  Hardcore Christians are just as bad as Hardcore Muslims when they get all worked up.  Also, if you aren't a solider, don't make assumptions about what soldiers want, do, or think.  Finally, traveling the world (in a recreational, business, and peacekeeping/warfighting aspect) for the last 10 years has given me some pretty decent insight when it comes to people.  Basically, people, at their very core, are vicious, cruel, and above all fearful.  The only thing that brings us up to the level where we can interact with each other, is knowledge.  The more w
e learn, the less there is to fear, less to misunderstand.  In the age of information, ignorance is a choice.  Hmm...this is getting preachy.  Anyway, check her out, she's a pretty cool chick.

Okay, last thing, I promise.  (Trying to make up for lost time).

Ensani Volz is doing something awesome.  If you love Harley Quinn and Joker (and who doesn't) check this out.  Mad Love is going to be effin amazing.

No more preachy-ness, I promise.  Just felt like ranting.

Return to Normalcy

After much, much toil, Trader is finally finished.

I’ve even sent off submissions to 7 different literary agencies.  To be perfectly honest, I only want SGJA.

Now I can take a break and ya know, work.  No serious writing for a bit.  Definitely more updates to the blog though. 

Not too soon… I spilled water on my comp and I need wait for it to dry out.

In the meantime, the new work out schedule is up.  WEEK 3!!! 

Dragon Con Prep and Lady Creepers

90 Days till Dragon Con

Bulema's not an option, tubs.

Brandon Adams, one of my pilots, gave me a 12-week program just in time to start for Dragon Con preparation.  He’s been using it and this man is just beastly.  I’ve seen him, with my own fascinated eyes, leg press 1400 pounds.  Multiple times.  So, every Monday, I’ll post up the week’s work out here.  Don’t be afraid of the super-sets.  They can be done, but ensure you have a designated driver because I want to die right now.

Go get ‘em studs and lady-studs (studettes?).

Okay, onto more pressing matters. 

Mowing the lawn post-workout, without my shirt, another ‘fairly odd’ thing occurred.  Now, you’d think I’ve learned my lesson about people being weird about me when I’m shirtless.  Nope.  I was objectified in a manner that I’m not entirely comfortable with.

A house adjacent has a fairly young couple who routinely invite people over.  Several times now, there has been a gathering of ladies outside when I mow my backyard – which takes the better part of an hour.  The scene I’m painting right now is me, rocking out to some sweet Ace of Base on my ipod, sweaty, grunting, and because Texas is the Australia of America, covered in no small amount of spiders, mosquitoes, and ants.  Doesn’t sound very attractive.

Remember them?

When I finished mowing, one of the women detached herself from the group, approached me with a lemonade (not roofied, but total cliché), then proceeded to inform me that watching me was a group treat because I was “tasty.” 

Getting ogled by complete strangers ain’t cool.  Every ounce of machismo in me was like ‘fuck yeah,’ while the rest of me was like ‘bitch back up, I’m mowing the lawn.’  The only strangers I want leering at me are Con strangers, cause I can leer right the hell back.  Even then it’s at least mutual and respectful. 

I dunno…  Kinda put me off.  Ladies, thoughts?

Meh,I'd let him punch me in the junk.

Back to Con prep – people appreciate the male form!  There was one Johnny Cage cosplayer that had it perfect to a point that I wanted to walk up to him and ask in a completely hetero way ‘can I just look at you for a minute?’  You’ve got time! 

And now, I slumber, because if you couldn’t tell, I’m effin exhausted. 

Trader has 2 or 3 chapters left.  If you want an early manuscript, lemme know, I’d be more than happy for reviews.  Still looking for cover art.

This is what you'll end up looking like after DCon parties though...

Lowered Expectations

Police That Mooostache!

This guy...

Nothing spectacular for this weekend.  Sorry for the let down.  Currently focusing all attention on finishing Trader within the span of the weekend.  While daunting, I’ve got much support, so there’s that.  Just have to put forth the effort of not being such a lazy ass. 

Wish me luck.

Also, as I’ve got to submit to an agent post-revision (maybe three weeks away), I need to send a Query.  This will include an About The Author section as well as a tag (you know, the thing you read on the back cover before you ever buy the book).  So here’s both of those things. 

Don’t judge me, they’re still in the conceptual phase.

Wrestling with a conscience he wasn’t aware existed as years of reckless hedonism begin to catch up with him, directionless Trader finds that trying to leave an ever confusing life of murder, manipulation, and explosions is more difficult than he could have imagined.

Ignore Me!

Jonny was first published at the age of 19, believing that sailing around the world for a year was enough qualification for writing a book.  From the Mind of a Pez Dispenser did dismally, but proved a turning point in his otherwise shiftless life.  He now spends what little free time he can find, between being a super awesome helicopter pilot (no, seriously, stop laughing) and deployments, writing to his heart’s desire.  He also maintains a blog, because who doesn’t?

There’s also supposed to be a 300 word synopsis for the book, but uh…  uh…  someone wanna get that for me?

Blair Eddings is a Hottie

Remember, no matter where you go, there you are.

There was a trend for a while of websites and books coming out with titles like Dave Willis is a Jerkface (First name, last name, is a, adjective).  And while Blair is indeed a hottie, I just wanted to see if it worked with any cool sounding name. 

It does (sorry B).

There was a better point to this…  Oh!  Pin-ups!  Blair is totally pinup.  And I’m going to start using that word for anything that reminds me of the 30’s and 40’s.  Not, you know, the whole beating your wife and racism thing, more of the better parts of Americana around that time.  The planes were cooler, the rules were more lax, the uniforms were better, and the women were… pin-up.  Maybe I’m just looking at it through the sepia tinted goggles of nostalgia and piloting. 

Seeing a friend – who shall remain nameless – go through a marriage that began as malt-shakes at the diner and has evolved into a 1950’s post-war couple, kind of makes me hate the 50’s.  So…screw that decade.

Eh, I still would.

Finally saw the movie Ted this weekend.  As far as I could tell, it was the heartwarming tale of a former rapper inexplicably bedding a pre-Oz Mila Kunis while she desperately tries to leave behind Family Guy in the form of Seth MacFarlane’s ghost possessing a Teddy Ruxpin.  It gets a 8/10 purely because it felt like everyone involved was three seconds away from saying wicked pissa.  Otherwise it would have been 10/10, bonus points for Flash Gordon.

Her career is much more entertaining.

The Fast and The Furious 6 came out this weekend as well.  Thanks but no, I’ll keep my doses of Vin Diesel to 90 minutes stretches of Riddick.  Michelle Rodriguez would probably be a good excuse to subject myself to watching a tank chase down tricked out Hondas, maybe.  Or I could just watch season 2 of Lost and call it even.  Dwayne Johnson lost all my respect when he decided that The Tooth Fairy was a good idea. 

I highly recommend Tucker and Dale vs. Evil and Lesbian Vampire Killers.  If you have time.

Two things in the news that matter.  The first is some little Chinese asshole teen decided to deface the Luxor in Egypt.  Who agrees that the little doucher needs to be keelhauled?  Accordingly, this type of behavior has become the normal as wealthy Chinese tourists have replaced the (now) atypical ugly American.  But hey, when you’ve got to spend time teaching an entire nation how to stand in line and not spit all over the sidewalk, what do you expect?  (Anyone remember the lead up to the Beijing Olympics?)

Eh, I still would.

The second was that Putin (or is it Medevev?) has decided on a course of action in Syria which completely contradictory to what almost every other free country in the UN believes to be a good idea.  They are going to arm (and presumably train) the Syrian government – you know the one?  The same one accused of some serious violations of human rights? – with S-300 anti-aircraft missile systems.  That’s a generation 5 weapon, very advanced.  I guess they wanted to keep ‘hot heads [sic]’ from entering the conflict.  That means anyone supporting the rebels or preventing the government from bombing civilians OR attacking literally any aircraft they can see (like, for instance, those flying into Israel).   

Regional stability my left nut.

As an afterthought, apparently Mermaids are now a thing.  So, uh, hell yeah.

Trader is almost done.  7 more chapters, 10,000 more words, and cover art.  That's a book ladies and gentlemen.  235 pages so far.  WOOT!

60,000 Words and Virtural Violence

Come see in the violence inherent in the system!

Playing competitive videogames can be equated to driving a car in the sense that road rage begets creativity.  In a recent Soul Caliber IV game with Kat, I learned something very interesting; That when presented with a no-win situation, my current vocabulary is nowhere near up to the par required to express my frustration. 

Because fuck Yoda, that's why.

“I’m going to sword-fuck your nether balls you transubstantial gobble-cock,” while fighting (or sometimes using) Nightmare.  Or even, “Die.  Just fucking die you wrinkly green space turd.  I’m going to fist-rape your Yoda hole so hard, Frank Oz is going to cry.”

I know I’m not alone.  But I think it may be genetic, because according to dad, my grandfather came up with “Your mother’s tits swing,” circa 1970.  He would have been a fantastic gamer.

Anywho, to celebrate 60,000 words, here’s a defining moment of Trader’s cohabitation with Lily.

<it's in revision>

Fratricide

Nightmares and Dreamscapes

Only with a smaller cast.
And less Fox telling fans
to go fuck themselves.

I keep touting the end (of Trader) approaching.  To not be called a dirty liar, I am devoutly working towards that goal.  As such, it is time for cover art.  Initially I wanted a Grand Theft Auto type cover, or the type of cover that Firefly used for its box set. 

But then…

My editor came up with an interesting point – as she is wont to do (see the discussion involving the naming conventions, which coincidentally ALSO involves a Firefly reference).  She said “You don’t really give much description when it comes to your characters [sic].” 

“But,” she conjectured, “it works.”  Totally, completely, utterly, mostly on purpose.  Not really though.  It does work, and that is insane!  The reason, as I’ve figure out from reading Cracked.com, is that your mind fills in the blanks on its own.  Horror is at its scariest when the monster is still hiding in the shadows.  Tolkien is a great writer but he gets fucking tedious after spending several paragraphs on describing what a tree looks like.  If you are talking about a magical forest, gimme some snapshots and I’ll do the rest.  It ruins the imagination.

Where am I going with this?  Lemme back track… Right!  I want the hero of every one of my stories (sans the graphic novels, because screw you that’s why), to be YOUR hero.  I want the villain to be your villain.  I want every character I develop in these books to be, at their very core, yours.  My intent to guide you where needed to capture an archetype, or to keep someone (like Keian) implacably constant.  Trader – much to my surprise – wears different masks as the story progresses, according to a bunch of people that I’ve handed a manuscript over.  Purely accidental, and I wish I could recreate that in everything I do, in the same manner.

Oh, I’m taking submissions, we’ll do a contest if more than three people enter.  Please?  Just don’t ruin people’s ability to think. 

In my defense, he was a
douche.

I just woke from a dream wherein I bludgeoned a man to death with an odd combination of a less than sturdy baseball bat and a rolling pin.  It was a challenge, I’ll say that much.  And the fight was legitimately recognized and refereed.  I was a stand in for a much stronger man, and cannot for the life of me remember the reason for the gauntlet being thrown.

In the context of necessity, I remember the deed needing to be done.  However, the circumstances leading up to the fight are fuzzy.  Something about demons and possessed machines inside a very large spire. As far as the event itself goes, it managed to burn itself inside my retinas.  The man I killed was the definition of a bro.  Frat material through and through.  Even so, it was…

Disturbing. 

I know we all have the capacity to kill.  It’s hardwired as a survival technique, regardless of what lies or stories we tell ourselves.  Fortunately, the experience for most people is so traumatic that even the attempt is unthinkable by anyone with a  conscious. 

The exception is when it comes to need and desire.  Need could fall under a whole slew of categories, such as kill or be killed.  In that situation, if and when you come out on top as the survivor, the feeling is one of elation.  A murderer on the other hand, enjoys it because that feeling ecstasy. 

Trader began killing for the former, but continued to do it for the rush brought by survival.  Whether or not external motivation for justice or monetary gain exists (where justice is generally the reason behind the contracts and money the compensation and illegal activities on the side balance out both of those things) is irrelevant.  The question raised is that of is killing in the name of supposed law okay if the killer enjoys his job?

Cel, by definition, is a murderer through and through.  Don’t over think that one.

The more I write about Keian, the less I know what the hell Keian is.

No Trader until later today.  About to break 60,000 words (and another three or four chapters), so I'd like whatever chapter I post today to be something critical.

In the meantime, here's a camel spider.

Come at me, bro.

My Own Cel

Like I ever drove before.

Before we start anything this weekend, I must state that every post was written through a ubiquitous haze of exhaustion.  While I’d like to believe that I am a terribly clever writer, there is plenty of evidence to the contrary.  Also, I become woefully cynical whilst sleepy. 

There’s your caveat, do your best to enjoy, it’s not all rainbows and sunshine.

Lady Problems.  No wait, problems WITH ladies.

First:  The Guitar; here are some pics:

To rehash; the plan is to raf…raffe…raffa…auction it off at Dragon Con 2013 from Demarr’s booth.  (Yeah, you heard me right.  Demarr has a booth.  Check out his fine wares).  Everyone who signed at DCC was very cool.  Jason David Frank (Green Ranger), Catherine Sutherland (Pink Ranger … after Kimberly), Ernie Hudson (Ghostbusters), Natasha Henstridge (Species), Tom Ambrose (Stargate), Adam Baldwin (Adam Baldwin), and LeVar Burton (Reading Rainbow, et. al) were all willing participants.  Though I did learn that in order to get them to sign charity stuff, one needs to clear it with management first.  A staffer firmly but politely told me to stop.

Woops.

On to the second:  Awkwardness.

I’ve come to the rather sad realization (thence acceptance) that I am terrible at meeting new people in any kind of consistent manner.  Con notwithstanding (because let’s face it, Cons count as an exception to just about every rule), I am a super awkward person when it’s down to one-on-one interaction.  Crowds?  Public speaking?  Making an ass out of myself in front of strangers?  Bring it on.  Anything else…

The example I wanted to use has been replayed many many many times over in my life.  I am (after much heartbreak and nights of absolute self-loathing) a nice guy, very honest, and completely filterless.  I won’t think twice to tell someone they are awesome, or beautiful, or that you might want to rethink those shorts until you lose about ten pounds.  To wit, I once got beat by an interrogator for flirting with her during an certain four lettered school.  Forgive me, I told her during the debrief, I had no idea. 

My latest series of mistakes has been trying to hang out with acquaintances that I’d like to get to know better for literally no other reason than they seem like someone I would legitimately hang out with.  Guys or girls, works for both in this case.  The responses to which I’ve received have usually been along the lines of, “Eh, maybe, as long as it isn’t a blind date sort of thing.”

Wait, what?  I don’t… there isn’t… I guess sitting at home and maintaining interaction with people online has robbed me of social skills and turned me into a total creeper.  That or the directness with which I’ve been accustomed to for nearly a decade of military service has skewed my sense of how to deal with subtlety in conversation.  Meaning I have none, and apparently it is always taken either the wrong way or completely perpendicular to what I meant.

Devi, dammit.  My name
Is. Not. Alice!

When the hell did that become the norm?  I must just be getting old.  And cynical.  God I hope that makes sense to everyone else. 

As far as relationships go, I do not believe in love at first sight.  I do believe in instant friendship.  Like Kat, who has seen me licked by random strangers at Dragon Con (yes, girls can be Con Creepers too.  Knock that shit off ladies, if you wanna lick my tats, ask first lest you get punched in the ovaries).  My first interaction with Kat after Con was her calling me a cock-jockey, which obviously made us best friends forever.  Speaking of, here’s Alice:

But friendships, once established, are easy.  The transition from friendship to relationship is dicey.  I’ve never understood the relationships I’ve had, nor those of my friends.  My thought is that in order to have a successful relationship, it should be based on friendship first, and then NOTHING should change, save the sex. 

Here's something cute to offset everything else.

Saying you love someone is a death knell to friendship.  After love, there’s no going back.  WHY?!  Celeste is not just a character created from the fundament, she is as much allegory as a living, breathing avatar of her real life character basis (including some word for word dialogue).  We started off as friends, and a gesture of comfort (offering her dinner after a bad breakup) turned into what amounts to the rockiest fucking months of my life.

If I was honest with myself (and why not?) I’d say that at first I didn’t even want anything from her.  It wasn’t until she turned into a ridiculously possessive ice-queen (week 2) that I gave in to the tidal wave that was her emotional rollercoaster.  Emotionally I’m distant, she was overpowering, and I was swept away. 

Now?  I am forever wary of intent. 

 

I guess the whole point of this is that introducing yourself by giving a list of the top five male celebs that’d you do and never call back is easily the best conversation starter.

Am I happy?  No, but I am content.  And happy writers suck.

Here Come the Train a'comin Post-Con Blues

Blues man get in just about anywhere.

Buddy Christ is my Buddy.

If you’re an insomniac, or even just a night person (completely different if you happen to be a person of the night or a Batman), then you understand that half of your problem is boredom while the other half is loneliness.  To that end, a city skyline brightly lit well into the after-midnight hours is a beacon of awe.  It means there are other people out there.

For those of you who don’t understand that analogy, you’re going to be lost on this next point. 

Conventions are so much more than people dressing up in costume and getting autographs of friendly B-listers (or in the case of the Shatner, out of work A-list celebs).  It’s about surrounding yourself with like minded people without fear of judgment.  And getting autographs of friendly B-listers…shut up.

Jessie as the Joker

Think about it for a moment; Cosplay is like fightclub for nerds.  You don’t talk about it at work.  Friends that don’t do it won’t understand.  The only people who actually GET IT are the people who dare to be superheroes with a bunch of random strangers that become recognizable faces and then at some point you’re friends and you’ve always been. 

As far as the judgment free thing goes, have you ever heard anyone say out loud ‘that’s a shitty costume?’  No, you haven’t.  I work in a profession where we eat our young because indecision and weakness will quite literally get people dead.  So going out to a world where the pressure if off, even for a weekend, is… a welcome break.  Though to be fair, when people hear about it they think it’s a cool concept, they just aren’t entirely comfortable trying it out for themselves.

For people who aren't me, it's escapism at its finest.  It allows you to be your ideal self.  Becostumed, confident, and f***ing all around awesome.  The person you are at Con is the person you truly are.  Outside of that?  Who cares about the real world?  How many kids wanted to grow up to be a ninja only to be told: NO.  Well guess what?!  Now I'm a damn ninja.

All I said was the Green Ranger at the South Mall was more
convincing.

Speaking of friends old and new; Hung out with Silent Bob and Anne.  Got to see Enasni V. who was just as glamorous and gorgeous as ever.  She plays a perfect Harley, an even better Mad Moxxi, and was a total sweetheart as always.  Check out her link and get yourself some prints.  Also met a ton of new people, my favourite of which being the Leutice Twins (Derrick and Lauren) – sorry everyone else, but you know I still love you. 

Amazing times came to an end.  The crowd needs Jay and Silent as much as Jay and Silent Bob need a crowd.  Saying goodbye to everyone, leaving my alter ego behind for a while, being alone with people that don’t get it?  That’s what post-con blues are about.

More Trader when I get settled back in.  

Lesson learned:  Never come at a stranger with a lighter.
Smokin' Ivy

Dallas Comicon

Headed to Dallas for the weekend, so don't expect any updates until Monday you bloodthirsty type peoples.   Pictures will be taken, good times will be had, Tommy will be fought for the title of Green Power Ranger, and I'm setting up for a charity auction at Dragon Con starting with the guitar featured here:

...which may or may not be a Guitar Hero World Tour guitar...

I feel like I've typed guitar too many times and now it looks like it is spelled wrong.

Oh oh oh, stats before I go!  Since I started posting again, we have viewers from Germany, Russia, South Korea, and of course the United States.  So uh, awesome.  Keep the hits coming and I'll do my marked best to keep you entertained.

Or at least dangle a carrot to make you think you're being entertained.

I'm sneaky like that.

The Natural World

For every Steve Irwin, there ought to be a Jeff Smith out there.  Instead of being a hardcore naturalist that jumps on crocodiles ten times his size, Jeff is just a practical, everyday guy that happens to have an Australian accent and is a total pansy.  He makes it up as he goes, but there’s none of this ‘Aint she a beaut!’ crap.

Because she’s not a beaut, Steve.  In fact, Steve, she wants to eat your goddamned face off.

Nope, Jeff will go into backyards with a team of cameramen and haphazardly bring us closer to nature, not much closer though.  “Oi!” he’ll say, pointing to a spider, “this here is the North American Arachnus Humungous or as it’s better known Big Spider.  They are supa aggressive, so I need to be extra careful to get in close,” he’ll say while standing three feet away, giving the camera guy room to zoom in on the confused, motionless spider.  “I would grab him, but he’s got these big fuck-off prehensile fangs that will pierce up to 7 inches of Kevlar, killing me almost immediately.”  And the spider, no bigger than a thumbnail will casually wander away in the opposite direction, completely unaware of the attention it attracted.  “By crickey!” Jeff will shout, jumping back like Jerry Lewis, “that was a close one!  Now let’s go find the extremely venomous Burrowing Owl, which I’ve been told is the deadliest creature in the Western Hemisphere.” 

I would watch that show with a vengeance.

Darwin’s Watch is the third book in Terry Pratchett’s The Science of Discworld trilogy.  The chapters bounce back and forth off each other with narrative and hard science.  The title is an homage to Paley’s Watch, which makes it clever on all sorts of levels.  Paley used the analogy of inferencing a watch maker from a watch to the relationship of God and Man in poor attempt to disprove evolution.  Current arguments use the irreducible complexity thesis in place of a watch, but fail to see that it’s the same idea only in a different context. 

We’re pushing back boundaries here people.  In the age of information, ignorance in a choice.   

Speaking of, Buzz Aldrin said, “Exploration is wired into our brains.  If we can see the horizon, we want to know what’s beyond.”  To that end, I’ll tie in M^6 with this quote:

            I've never been afraid of the dark, though I do have a touch of claustrophobia.  Sometimes when I go to the beach I stand on the shore, feel the hot sand between my toes, look off to the horizon and see the vast blue ocean carry off into the distance.  Then I think, huh, the land just kinda stops right there.  I'm literally out of land right now, there's not enough of it.  Then I look up and realize that our breathable atmosphere only extends out to seven kilometers, past that it's a vacuum.  Past that vacuum is the limits of our solar system, then our galaxy, and oh my god, what do they mean the universe is expanding?  There are boundaries?  It's not finished yet?  I don't care if I'll never live to see the edges, the universe is too small!

C-3PO postulated that the odds of successfully navigating an asteroid field are 3720:1.  We (that is to say, legitimate scientists that are not me or anyone I actually know) have crunched that number down to 100%.  Yes, the only time you’ll crash into an asteroid is if you are aiming directly for it and sometimes not even then.  Too much space is the problem.

Which makes space kind of boring. 

A Case of the Tuesdays

As we (yes, we.  This whole Trader thing involves everyone kind enough to put up with it.  Fist bump.) near the completion of a pre-revision manuscript, I can barely restrain my excitement.  Apologies in advance as less and less narrative makes into the blog, but how else can I keep you guessing and interested?! 

Anywho, there’s a major minor plot point coming up that I’m debating on how to write.  So sometime here in the next week, I’m going to put up both versions and let you deal with it.  Lazy?  No.  AWESOME.

Like I said, the sooner I finish Trader, the sooner we all get to move on to other stories. 

That’s all you’re getting for preamble.  I’ve already written a pretty decent one for my next post, I just have to finish writing the accompanying chapter. 

My Jungle Love, Oheeoheeoh

Barbara Hambly wrote Children of the Jedi in 1995 and was my first exposure to a visceral writing style.  Though intended for a younger audience (considering I was 10 at the time, it may have actually been intended for an older audience) it has stuck with me as an striking example of how to make your reader feel just as miserable as the protagonist.  It came in short and broken bursts and the details are rather fuzzy, but the generalizations are still there.

Later in life, the same thing was accomplished by watching Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.  More than once I had to stop watching because I felt physically ill.  Great writers beget great writing, so I’ve always tried to emulate that response from readers in the same fashion.

Some of the criticism I’ve received or have seen tossed at other writers is the argument of ‘You’ve never ____ so how do you know that’s how it would be?’  Well, that’s a fair enough contention, and strong writers get to bypass that by virtue of being strong writers.  I, on the other hand, do not get that luxury. 

Trader, as it has been established, grew up in an unspecified coastal town.  Having done the same, one of the observations I’ve been able to make with a fair amount of consistency, is that kids who grow up at the beach move on to be adults that are both respectful and not scared of nature.  When you see the vastness of ocean and understand the terrors that it holds and then make the conscious decision to continue swimming despite them, there isn’t much left in the way of fearing wildlife. 

And you can put a shark juxtapose to an alligator or a giant venomous snake and it’s about the same thing.  Leave it alone, don’t show fear, move away, then congratulations you’re still alive.  The ocean also removes the fear of the unknown.  You know just past the breakers there’s SOMETHING lurking.  It isn’t that you’re unwary, it’s that at some point, you just don’t care.  The main difference between country/ocean folk and city folk is that the former generally fair much better lost in the jungle than the latter.  If you don’t believe me, ask anyone in the Army that’s done a land nav course at night.

Trader isn’t a violent man by nature (necessity, yes) but he is resilient.  I’ve been lost in the woods and in swamps and jungles and rainforests and scrub, covered in bees and spiders, I’ve seen the reflections of thousands of hungry eyes at night.  I’ve been afraid but like Trader, I’m resilient.  You hit a point, about 5 hours in or when exhaustion sets in, where spider webs are less an impromptu karate lesson and more annoying scenery.  Fortunately I’ve never been shot, unfortunately I know plenty of people that have.  So, I’m not a strong writer, but I do have a superb memory. 

Hopefully I’ll become a better writer, thus negating the need for blunt force experience.  I’m getting too old for that shit.