Unfortunately, my next book The Cradle has been delayed somewhat.
I’m doing my damnedest to have it available in time for Christmas. But it’s going to be tight. I’m not entirely sure I can make it.
Until things get sorted out, you can read or listen to the first twenty pages or so here.
This video is very much NSFW — in fact, depending on your sensibilities, it’s very likely not safe for anywhere. If you’re not sure if you can handle it then you probably should click here as fast as you can to avoid it.
Seriously. The video has naughty bits in it. And a naked lady. And pomegranates.
It’s also amazing.
Here’s Sovereign Syre in “Persephone Eats” (directed by JM Darling).
Persephone Eats from JM Darling on Vimeo.
(If you are offended, you only have yourself to blame. I warned you.)
Alan Moore on Harvey from Estate of Harvey L. Pekar on Vimeo.
(Guess what I just bought me’n the missus for Christmas…)
There’s a longer blog post brewing in the back of my mind right now, something about the Gods and the movies that hate them.
But for now, I’ll stick to saying how I’m disappointed, though not surprised, to hear that Tarsem’s latest film “Immortals” is an awful mess…
Here’s everything you need to know about Immortals, the new movie from director Tarsam Singh [sic] that’s (extremely) loosely based on Thesus [sic, again], the hero from Greek mythology: At one point, Zeus gets super mad at Apollo for interfering with the humans, so he blasts him through a stone wall. It’s built up as this huge moment for Zeus that shows how dedicated he is to allowing mankind to forge its own destiny rather than be shepherded by the gods, and clearly meant to be a big, pivotal moment for the film.
And then we see that the blast has left a perfectly Apollo-shaped hole in the rock as if he were a Looney Tunes Character. That’s Immortals in a nutshell.
(From the Comics Alliance review)
For the record, I love Tarsem’s The Fall. It’s a gorgeous, heartfelt piece of cinema that few other movies can match. I’m told that he had absolute control over every aspect of that film, from script to final cut . . . which might explain a lot.
I’d been planning on going to see “Immortals” in the theaters — a bit of a luxury these days, with a young toddler at home — based on the subject matter and Tarsem’s involvement.
Not anymore. I’ll probably be happier staying at home and watching episodes from the excellent Clash of the Gods or Jim Henson’s The Storyteller series instead.
…just started up iTunes Match. I’ve got almost 14,000 tracks in my iTunes library (not counting audiobooks) so this will be an interesting test of the new system and features.
My expectations are pretty high. Here’s hoping that the extra time they took to launch was to get it right.
Between a networked song library and my Spotify account, I’ll be one happy little fanboy.
I just lost an hour’s worth of writing time tonight. Drat.
I should say that my process is a little bit different than usual right now. It’s NaNoWriMo, so I’m working on a smaller project and trying to make better use of the available technologies in order to get it done within the deadline.
Last year, I managed to finish two novellas, one of which — a small follow up to Assam & Darjeeling called “The Cradle” — will be out by Christmas (yes, I’m running late).
All my work last year was done on my iPad, using Evernote — which worked very well for my purposes.
This year, however, I decided to finally find a way to make the Scribe software work for me. I’ve had Scribe for a year and, despite my best efforts, I’ve had trouble finding the right headset to capture my vague ramblings during my two hour commute.
(And, before you send me your suggestions, I should mention that I’ve gone through at least seven different Bluetooth and wired solutions.)
For a while, I gave up ever making it work. Which was a shame, because that almost two hours of driving time was a real opportunity to be productive.
But I decided to give it one more shot this year for NaNoWriMo . . . and after a number of false starts, I eventually found this microphone/headset on Amazon which seemed to do the trick. Quite nicely, in fact.
What this means is that my NaNoWriMo project this year is being created almost entirely through the spoken word, rather than typing or writing.
A bit of a risk, I’ll admit. but I’ve always trusted my voice. When I find myself at a brick wall, a good session of walking and talking to myself will usually help get things back on track.
And so far, it’s been working fairly well. I’m well past the target word count set for this point and certainly on track to pass the 50,000 word mark. Given my current progress — I’m just over 30,000 words — I expect to hit the goal well ahead of the end of the month.
I don’t know if I’ll be done with the first draft by then, but this is a story that’s been percolating for a long time in the back of my head and without NaNoWriMo it probably would’ve been a few years at least before I ever got around to writing it. So that’s okay.
So far, so good. The microphone does a good job of filtering out the ambient noise of the car and the scribe software is fairly good at transcribing the recordings. However, from time to time, Scribe misfires and I end up with some interesting translations. The software allows you go in and correct things so that, in time, it learns your speech patterns and quirks of pronunciation.
I like technology that learns from me. I like the organic, almost Darwinian nature of it.
Tonight, however, for some reason, it choked. Utterly.
I’d been working for an hour or so — which means that I was walking around in my office, talking to myself.
As midnight approached, I stopped to import my work so far into the Scribe software. It’s an easy process and pretty routine at this point. Typically I just let it run and then cut-and-paste the results into Scrivener or Evernote so I can make any corrections I want to after the fact. And, of course, I save the audio source for reference, just in case I need them later.
Tonight I decided to peek in on what Scribe was doing . . . and what I saw surprised me.
Here’s the first paragraph that appeared onscreen as the transcription began…
of will when you are is a work in a law of the earth to all and to the are you is your own or a to her to a window or in a will of her and her is you will is a will to the are you a to the eye to her or her own go as long as you would go her as a dove or a will or is it the night to will her a long one of her of her to her or he will or will your are off to a good or a well-known and her mother are you at a that I know what you are in a third or a to God or all around with the new and will do a good is a very who will or is it a world in her of her and her are her murder or is it moral or, as you are are are are are are are are are are are are are are are those your review of it that are or I will tell you is or is is a to you or your
Not exactly what I’d been working on the night, you’ll have to take my word for it. So, figuring there was some kind of glitch, I thought I might try again.
Here’s what the second attempt produced…
Him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him and you are past or will we will work for you guys are the is will go to that are all well and good to her from her to a will or will on the other are you going to do well in a will will give you a will go to her for her or him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him both were her mother nude to him and him or him him him him him
Whoever he is, he needs to get the hell out of my software. And stay away from my mom.
Erm . . . third time’s a charm, right?
Him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him or check test test him and we will when it is a work to be a guy that I was a law will be a very good after my workout how you and I are in a to them as a children are a will to a to her and her window to in a little over five and a will to him or her off to a good or a to him on a how are you and I are in a perfect or are you a thing or to a guy a noble or to her as a loan to her role as a little boy all her weight is a to her or him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him a note and he is in a will or will not kill him will be a little under a something of a month or and he had a to below are her to go to her idol John Gartner for her or him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him or him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him a moment when he is a phone number is to have a go… away you are or know him as a by a return to him and him in a to him in a all-around with a view to him and him to do your will for him him him him him him or him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him or him him him him him him him him him or him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him and he will him and him and him or her to a girl named veteran Aaron and how to murder your him and he won’t, and then you are doing will love him or him him him him him him
There’s something a little creepy about all that, actually.
I don’t particularly like losing work. It’s been a long time since I’ve ever “lost” anything I was working on. In fact, it’s been over a decade.
On this project, losing an hour’s worth of time isn’t the end of the world. I’ve got a good sense for where I’m at in the story and what I’m doing. There’s always the audio to go back to, if I need to transcribe something manually. And it’s turned out that this story has a lot more autobiographical elements in it than usual, so the memories I’m drawing on are fairly easy to draw out once again if I need to.
And, to be honest, in these kinds of circumstances I have a tendency to trust the process, to trust the gods.
Everything happens for a reason. If I have to rewrite something, it’s probably because something important was lost the first time through . . . and this is my chance to get it back again.
It is worth noting however that tonight I was talking about one of the first, and only, times I ever attempted an EVP session.
I’m writing about ghosts. I’m writing about technology.
And, for some reason, tonight it turns out that technology is something that — inexplicably — isn’t working for me.
Creepy.
Shrug. It happens.
A few of you have noticed that I’ve switched the blog from the “magazine” style template to something a bit more traditional — at least, in blogging terms.
After a few years of intermittent posts jam-packed with updates every few months, it occurred to me that my activity on Twitter and Facebook had stripped away much of what was (perhaps only marginally) interesting about the site.
They don’t call it microblogging for nothing.
So . . . here’s hoping that this new format will give me a chance to get back to a more regular schedule consisting of smaller, topical posts.
Except for this one.
Ahem.
As you were…
Waking up early, a few hours after I usually go to bed, gives me an odd moment of deja vu — I’m awake, it’s dark and quiet, I should be writing.
But I can’t, because I’m meant to be getting on an airplane. That doesn’t stop my mind from working as I drive through the darkened city, passing empty office buildings lit from within like empty stages waiting for their actors to come on.
It occurs the me that ghosts must be on a different schedule than the rest of us. They must like the quiet an solitude of the late night hours, the early morning when they can wander through the empty offices and, for just a little while, pretend.
I see then sitting at desks, pretending to answer phone calls or file reports… Or wander into the kitchen an open the fridge, just to stand and stare for a while…
I know how that feels.
***
Last week I asked my wife “What do you think ghosts do more, watch the living have sex or watch us eat?”
Neither of us had the answer. But I expect we’ll find out, eventually.
***
In the security line, twenty young men stand and chat together in identical black suits. Each wears a different colored shirt, open at the color. They are cheerful and businesslike.
One of them is wearing headphones shaped like pandas, bobbing his head. I don’t think he’s going to last in this job, whatever it is.
***
We land in the midst of what I can only assume is a tropical storm clearing its throat, getting ready to speak its mind.
My room is on the 27th floor. I can feel the hotel sway under my feet as I unpack.
I discover that the sliding glass door actually opens. I’ve got free access to the wind and rain and, if I were so inclined, gravity as well. This surprises me.
There is a Gideon Bible and a Book of Mormon in the nightstand. Above, my copy of The Hermetic Museum sits next to the alarm clock.
I brought it along to research a possible project for NaNoWriMo. This will turn out to be an empty gesture, as I will get nothing done while I am here.
***
Up early the next morning for a day full of meetings followed by a night out with my colleagues and clients.
They ply me with rum — it is Florida, after all — but I demur. “If I’m going to fall of the wagon, it’s going to be for Irish whiskey.”
Other people in our party are drinking watermelon mojitos. I rest my fucking case.
Fortunately, a bartender that looks uncommonly like Ray Stevenson is more than happy to provide me with Bushmills. He does not sneer when I ask for soda.
One drink in and I find that I’m explaining to a high-priced and pretty-damn-smart consultant that all modern brands are merely an extension of celebrity which is, in turn, nothing more than a modern manifestation of the shift from the Pantheon to demigods and, as a marketer, he’s a modern acolyte or (since he bills at a higher rate than I) quite possibly a priest.
“All culture derives from cult,” I say, quoting Alan Moore — and not for the first time, neither.
The consultant nods and looks away, entirely uninterested in my metaphysical plagiarism.
I sip my drink and think about how much I missed whiskey and didn’t even know it. Until now.
Dinner is delicious. Living in the midwest for the past fifteen years or so, I’d forgotten how clean and fresh seafood and shellfish could be when you were on the coast — that is, when I lived on the coast . . . the west coast. A long time ago.
I’m meant to be contacting family in Florida and connecting up. But my schedule with clients is proving unsympathetic to those plans. Even the social times are turning out to be important conversations with clients. In fact, the most important one I have during the whole trip takes place in the upstairs of a nightclub. We shout back and forth while, down below, women stand on the bar and dance to live salsa music.
***
The rest of my time is spent in my hotel room, looking out the window and waiting to go home.
NaNoWriMo is coming. And I’m torn between a number of possible projects. It occurred to me that it might be fun to see what people want, so I’ve posted a little poll over on my Facebook page.
Right now, the front runner is a ghost story. But my own personal leanings are more towards a book set in the same world as “Matters of Mortology“. I’m not entirely certain if I will exercise my veto power or not but chime in and cast your vote if you’ve got the time and inclination.
A few people have asked me if I’m done with Twitter and/or Facebook, as I’ve not been on either much lately.
The answer is “No.”
If you’re on Twitter, you can find me here. If you prefer Facebook, I’ve got that covered as well. From time to time, both of these places get my attention. Sometimes I even have little contests and giveaways. There’s one coming up soon, so now might be a good time to start following.
I’m also on Google+ but, like a lot of people, I still don’t feel it yet. But I’m there — or, rather, here.
I know a lot of people who have closed up shop everywhere else now that Google+ is on the scene — getting rid of their Facebook accounts and fan pages, deleting their Twitter feeds, even shutting down their blogs and Tumblr accounts — putting all of their social media eggs in one metaphorical basket.
This seems crazy to me.
First off, because Google+ (like anything else) isn’t quite living up to the hype.
Second, because there are lots of people out there. And lots of places to connect. And, as an author, I want to create more opportunities to connect with readers rather than cut them off.
It’s more work, sure. Adding Google+ to the mix didn’t make things easier. But I’m there, if that’s where you want to be.
In fact, I’m in the process of exploring some ideas for a YouTube channel. I think there might be some interesting things there, being able to not only share some stories in a new setting/format but also share other people’s content as well.
That’s a next year project, once the shoes come off.