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.