Officially Pissed

Who the balls decided to put BOTH Gentleman Broncos AND Boondock Saints II on limited release?

Seriously. With the exception of Where the Wild Things Are, GB is one of the only films I've really been looking forward to this year, and from what I can see on their "official" site, the closest it is coming to me is freaking Minneapolis. I might want to see that movie, but I'm definitely not willing to drive that far to do so.

Who figures up these release schedules and locations? Nine times out of ten, studios never seem to push the films they should, yet they dump hundreds of thousands of dollars into crap like 2012. Granted, those are the films people go to see--and that is an entirely different rant--but seriously, why can't a film be released at least in ONE major city in every state. I live in the capital of my state, and am only a hour drive from the biggest city in the state, yet I don't look to have a chance to see either GB or BS II. If that ain't a load of All Saint's Day's initials, I don't know what is.

All right. That is out of my system, even if my weekend is now shot to crap. I hope you have a good one, and I'll see you on Monday.

+Halloween Response+

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It is easy to be sexy with candy.

Mario SuperStrikers and What It Taught Me About Life

I started this blog a moment ago, then realized it was one big complaint/begging for your pity. That is lame. Instead of my selfish rant, you get my blurb for Mario SuperStrikers.

Granted, many of you have probably already played this until it is no longer any fun for you. However, I tried it for the first time last night. Normally, I do not like these kinds of games. Yet, as usual, the Mario team takes a familiar concept and extends it beyond the normal demographic. Sure, true soccer/football aficionados most likely think it is lame, but I would be that many a younger child has now developed an interest in the "real" game because of Mario's bastardized version.

I think this is something we should look to do in all things. Seriously. We need to make Mario-everything. Well, not actually having Mario in everything we do/make, but I think there needs to be an accessibility built in to everything we do. And in that, we need to ensure that the essence/basics of the thing is not changed by this accessibility. This is definitely not a new concept, but I think we can learn something here from Mario and his games: When we give our audiences an overall fun/entertaining experience, we present ANYthing, and audiences will love us.

Maybe it's just a strange tangent/rant, but it makes sense to me. I'm going to go Mario-ize my world.

+Halloween Proposition+

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Make your Halloween chock full o' innuendo.

Music and Micro-Zombies

Do you have a band that you KNOW is not good, that is simply music constructed for the masses, yet you can't stop listening to it?

Chevelle is that band for me. Every bit of me screams at their untalented-ness, their generic riffs and sub-par drum beats, yet I can't stop listening to them--including their new album. Stupid, "Roswell's Secrets" gets stuck in my head. I guess that's what I get for listening to it in the first place, but there is just something about this band--manufactured as it is--that just makes me want to rock out. *sigh*

As for the Micro-Zombies, I had a story picked up the other day. It's a teeny little piece, but one I'm rather happy with. Check it out here, if for no other reason than it is getting close to Halloween and it's time for zombies and things.

I Feel All Sorts of Fancy

After all too long of people thinking my phone is ten years old--the final nail in this coffin being someone recently commenting, "Oh, cute, it has an antenna"--I've stepped into the SmartPhone age. Though I won't use half of what this thing is capable of, it's nice to know that I CAN do things like GPS and video messages, if I want to.

In other news, my wife and I watched Duplicity last night. We'd meant to see it in the theatre, but missed our chance as it seemed to be in and out of them quite fast. And this is a sad fact. It means people missed out on a rather smart caper/mystery/grift/thriller flick. It found a wonderful balance of making you feel like you knew what was going on, while at the same time making you think you had NO IDEA what was going on. A fun film that I would recommend to fans of the aforementioned genres.

Other than that, I wish you all well, and have a wonderful weekend. Mine will be spent playing with my new phone. WOOT!

+The Real Garage Band+

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(Based on an idea from my good friend, Cale P.)

Where the Wild Things Are

Yes, critics and filmgoers alike are raving about this film. Plenty of reviews and blogs have already been written about the film--much more timely than myself, yet I still need to add my two cents.

I don't want to spend time on why it is awesome; I wanted to talk about its haunting nature.

Since seeing the film on Monday night, I haven't really stopped thinking about it. If I have, I soon go back to it, conjuring up images or certain fragments of dialogue. Plus, I feel like I dreamed about it on Monday night. Can't specifically give any details, but I swear there were Carols and KWs and Judiths rumpusing through my dreams. Another of my friends I saw the film with said the same thing. It's not often a film can tap so deeply into the subconscious. It's as if Spike Jonze channeled the very spirit of what it means to be a child--how utterly frightening and beautiful and fantastical and horrifying it can be.

I remember my own childhood being much the same, full of moments so steeped in wonder that my head reeled, then they'd shift into something terrifying, my overactive imagination kicking in and scaring the crap out of myself. This was probably a common occurrence for single children, those with much older siblings, and general outcasts within their schools. Hard as it might have been from time to time, I think it was all for the best--I wouldn't be the writer I am if it weren't for all those hours alone, spinning my stories in my own mind as I dove from snow bank to snow bank, dug a fort into the earth, and worried about all those ninjas ready to attack.

I will be seeing this film again. I can't not. When something shakes you to the core, you don't ignore it. You let it shake you again and again and again until you feel nothing.

+Ca-Moose+

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Chugga-chugga, chugga-chugga... MOOSE, MOOSE!!!

(Idea from my friend Marcia A.)

Home Again

I'm back from the California coast, where I spent the majority of my time within a hotel. Nice as it was, I wish I could've gotten out to the beach more. The bit that I did was fun enough, but I would have liked to stay longer.

Sights seen while there: A skateboarder looking like Sugar Ray (the 90's rock guy) and trying to pick up chicks by doing large figure eights in the parking lot, a Lamborghini with its engine overheating and smoking, Balboa island, a beach side wedding, the most dedicated Del Taco employee ever (he was CHASING down a car to give them a forgotten article of food), the gloriousness of CA traffic, and lots of people that were wearing an outfit as costly as my entire wardrobe.

It's good to be home, though now I will have to play catch up--bleh. Wish me luck.

(First Missed Post)

After more than a year of faithful posting, my lame hotel and their lame charging for internet service caused me to missed my first post to date. Fight the tyranny of paying for what most everyone else gives for free.

+Mouse Flashes+

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If this mouse believes in reincarnation his next life will be, "Life Sucks 2: Life Sucks Harder." Then it would be "Life Sucks: With a Vengeance." And with the last, it will add patriotism, "Live Free or Life Sucks."

The Brothers Bloom

I still hold it against Lincoln for not getting this film into theatres around here. Seriously, it wasn't even that tiny of a release...

Despite my not being able to see it in theatres, I was very pleased to finally have had the chance to check it out. With how much I enjoyed Brick, I had high hopes for The Brothers Bloom--especially since I really like the cast for the film. A day later, I can't decide how much I liked this one. I keep thinking about it, certain scenes and moments, so that in itself is better than most films. Plus, I already want to watch it again, just to see if I can "figure out" some of the subtle clues dropped along the way. And even if you don't like the film overall, the first half hour or so of the film is nothing short of brilliant AND hysterical. I haven't laughed that much at a film in awhile. Perhaps I'm just easily entertained, but part of me seems to resonate with Rian Johnson's humor. If you enjoyed Brick, I wouldn't miss this one. And if you like caper/grifter flicks, this one is playful enough to keep you on your toes--even for veterans of the genre. Basically, I can't think of a good reason not to watch this one, just be warned that it isn't as quite of a feel-good movie as you might expect.

+Lying to Frankenstein is a Bad Idea+

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This one time, I was dead. Then they arrested my wife.

What Technology Just Can't Do...

Yesterday, I worked on arts for a sizable chunk of time with a good friend of mine. As much as I love my tablet and using the digital medium to create my arts--since I can do things digitally that I'd have no idea how to replicate with paints and canvass--nothing, and I mean nothing, can replace the feel of paper under your hand, pens and pencils and markers at your disposal. Sure, you can pick all sorts of colors, even the exact shade that you had in mind, via your digital arting media, but there is something so wholesome about grabbing a new marker, a new pen, another sheet of paper. Plus, unlike digital arts, this is much easier to sell.

Do you like the above? (Click it for a larger image.) You may own it for $20.00--more if you want it framed.

Good Things

I have renewed my uncle-dom--as of last night. My brother and his wife have a new baby boy with the initials J.R. I told my wife that I hoped no one would shoot him.

Another good thing is John Steinbeck. You may recall my ranting and raving about how perfect a book Of Mice and Men is. I finished The Moon is Down last night, which is a much lesser known Steinbeck. I figure if a guy can still write that good of a book, and it is one of the less famous books... what an ass. I don't know if I will ever achieve the status of even The Moon is Down, but at least I have another few books of his that I can read. Now that I've finished two of his, I can honestly say that he is probably within my top ten favorite writers. His writing has such a simple beauty to it, not as poetic as Bradbury, but equally gorgeous. I'd love to write like that, but alas, it's just not my style.

Last good thing: It is the weekend. I like weekends. Stuff will happen?

+Meta-for You+

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Start calling your significant other "Incisor." It is not a good idea.

The Conundrum of Publishing

Let me preface this by saying that this is intended more for the novelist than the short storiest, as the market is an entirely different process.

I've been spending a LOT of time on Duotrope lately and even submitting a few things, and I've come to a conclusion: There are so many markets out there, what difference does it make if I'm rejected?

Really. I used to get all worried and tense and start freaking out whenever I built up enough courage to submit something. Now, I'll admit that a bit of the anxiety is still there, however I realize the ridiculousness of it all. I've heard it said, numerous times, that it is completely 100 percent subjective as to why you are or are not accepted. I didn't believe it until I was forced to do this very thing myself. I was forced to pick and choose based on what resonated with me, and nothing more. The writing across the board was fine--good even--but I didn't always get that zing one hopes for in reading new prose or poetry. And I guarantee it is the same way for EVERY PUBLICATION out there. We don't need to worry about their not accepting our work--there is a good chance someone else will. The better question is, "Do we even want to be a part of their magazine?"

As I said, there are a crapton of magazines, journals, and even locally produced zines, all searching for your work, your content, your words. But is it even worth your time to submit and build up a list of publications--even if the publication isn't very professional?

Because of the interweb and all its modern conveniences, everyone and their iPod can have a journal--even I started one of the things. So what makes it worthwhile to send out those words you've pored over and poured your heart into? Who's to say that it isn't just as worth your time--or more--to work on a novel and submit that instead? I honestly don't have an answer.

Sure, it is a great ego boost and shot of joy when you receive that acceptance letter, but I'm still wondering if it is worth all the time, stress, and anxiety over something that ultimately boils down to the editor asking himself, "Do I like this?"

Then what happens when the publication that accepts you goes under after the first two issues? Was it worth it to be a part of them, to garner that name for your CV, or would you be just as reputable, if not more so, for avoiding such flippant publications?

I'm just throwing things around out here. I think--as with everything--it comes down to personal choice. I guess we're always just wondering and worrying if that was the RIGHT choice.

To help solve this dilemma, I'm proposing a test/idea. I'm going to write a few micro-fictions, anywhere from 1 - 1,000 words. I'm not going to spend much time on them. Yes, I'll make sure they are free of typos and have the basics elements of story, but I'm not going to worry about whether or not it is "ready" for publication. I'm going to take these stories--that take, maybe, a day or two to write--and submit them. If they are accepted, wonderful. If not, I will give them another once-over, another revision, and send them out again. Process, repeat, repeat, repeat, until the story is accepted or I finally dub the story "finished."

Anyone else game?

+Waiting, Still, More+

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As a colleague of mine might say: "She's been attacked by the booly." (Booly, boo+lee: a state in which boobies and a belly become one.)

Mowing, Blokus, and Novel Update

Words of advice: though waiting ten weeks to mow your lawn might save you a few hours of overall time, it is not fun. And now my arms and legs are angry with me--possibly the mower too. And the lawn. It looks like we own a dog that pees in the same spots over and over.

In other news, I tried Blokus this weekend, and I heartily endorse it. Not only do the games take, maybe, twenty minutes tops, the dynamics of the thing can change in a heartbeat. A bit of strategy, a bit of luck, and a good chunk o' fun. Pick this up if you have the chance. I believe it is rather cheap.

As for the novels, I have yet to hear back from the agent for the one. We've hit the three week mark, which is when she contacted me last time, but I heard she has been rather busy these last few weeks. Keep your fingers crossed. The other is coming along quite nicely. In fact, I'm really enjoying writing this one and can already see it starting to take shape. Though I know the general direction of where this thing is headed, I'm excited to see the detours and the final destination.

In the meantime, Gibberish tomorrow.

Why I Prefer to Write

Whenever I say anything, I always worry it is misconstrued, and I come across looking like a douchebag.

Take just a moment ago: I was at the gas station, filling up a coffee cup, my soda glass and Snickers resting in front of the "flavor" shots. Another customer was trying to look at flavor shots, not disturbing my stuff or even giving me the stink eye for having left it there. As the cup was almost full of coffee, I topped it off then went to move my things out of his way. He mumbled/said an "Excuse me," as if he was in the wrong.

I said, "Let me get out of your way." Then I realized how condecending that could have sounded to him, like I was saying, "Well, since I'm obviously in your way, let me not inconvenience you further."

I don't think I sounded like this. But I'm paranoid nevertheless. I tend to have things come out wrong. Frequently. Even my wife has been known to take offense at something I said that was NOT supposed to be hurtful.

I probably just need to chill out. I should just chill out. Yet I worry that even the remotest of strangers thinks I'm an okay person--not just another asshole.

Have a good weekend, everyone. Try not to be misunderstood.

+Skeleton Noir+

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No matter the situation, it's no skin off his back.