Writing Exercise #5 ( Day 1 )

There was quite a buzz when the author entered the party. As was his wont, he was late. Not terribly so, but enough that his absence built an air of mystique and expectation. People wondered where he was.

Would he show?

What kept him?

His absence made more of an impact than if he had been there from the start like everyone else. People cast sidelong glances to the door, as if waiting for him to come through at any moment. The food was sitting uneaten. Nobody wanted to act as if the party had already started before the author showed up. After all, he was one of those figures that was as much a myth as he was a man.

When he finally did arrive the tension in the room rose palpably. He was ushered in by the parting of the crowd like the wind through tall grass. People gave away under his presence, their voices stilled and their eyes turned towards the door where the author stood. As one, the crowd beheld him.

The author stood before them, and beheld them in turn. His eyes were sharp despite his advanced age. He stood tall and straight as he looked at them all. He was dressed in a sharp suit, traditional but worn with a certain flair that made it stand out.

His white hair was carefully laid in place. He made no effort to hide his wrinkles or his hair or any other sign of his age at this point. He had lived a long life and when people asked him how he felt about being old he took great pleasure in telling them he felt "Damn good about it, thank you."

They always laughed. They always quoted it, too, which was a source of secret pride. He still had it, after all this time.

The crowd continued to gape at him as if they couldn't believe he was really there before him. Either that, or they couldn't believe the woman on his arm. That was okay, he was sure that she wasn't real either. Or, at least, parts of her weren't. He didn't bring her because she was the real deal. Like the suit, she made him look good.

This silence had gone on long enough. It was getting embarrassing. He didn't want to create expectations he couldn't meet. So he broke the silence. "What are you all looking at? I know I'm late, but give me a break..."

The laughter that cut through the room broke the surface of that endless moment, and suddenly the party was alive again. People turned away, picking up their conversations that had been left stranded mid-sentence. Those closest to him made their way towards the author as he entered the room, extending nods and words of greeting. They would have extended hands, but the girl bringing around the drinks beat them to him with a gin and tonic and his woman remained firmly affixed to his other arm.

"Oh, it's so great to see you," one said. "It's been too long! You really do need to drop by more often." One of the hostesses, he assumed. He didn't remember her--but he didn't try very hard, either.

"You look so good," said another. "How do you do it?"

And, of course, inevitably, one said "I can't wait for your next book! When is it coming?"

The author smiled and waved them all away. "This is supposed to be a party, and I haven't even gotten ten feet from the door yet. One at a time, I'll try to talk to as many of you as I can," he said, holding up his drink. He had already taken a rather large portion of it. The ice clacked hollow against the glass. "I'm going to go have them top this off, first."

And he cut past them for the part, leaving only murmurs and expectations.

"Isn't he marvelous? He's so good, I'm shocked he came to this party," said one woman.

"Hey!" the hostess replied. "Lots of important people come to my parties."

"Yes, but he's different."

"Maybe," said a small man who intruded on the conversation. "But he isn't going to answer your questions. You should know that. He only answers what suits him. And lately that's less and less."

"Oh, hush you! Don't be a spoilsport. Surely he'll talk to us. Maybe you can go and coax that pretty young thing off of his arm and keep her entertained. Certainly he'd be less distracted then."

The two women laughed at him as he reddened and slunk away to whatever lonely corner of the room he had come from. Instead of bothering to watch, they turned to the author, who was across the room getting his drink.

The woman at his arm looked up as a tap fell on her bare shoulder. She turned to offer curt words to whoever would bother to touch her but came face to face with a man who didn't seem interested in her at all. He was nearly as old as the author, with short grey hair and a deeply tanned face.

"Beat it, honey."

"Hey, buster, I've got just as much of a right as you to-"

The author looked up at the man who had intruded upon this farce of a couple and smiled slightly in recognition. "Mia, why don't you go find someone to mingle with. I do want to talk to him."

She looked up at him, disappointed, but when she saw the set of his mouth she turned and walked away without complaint.

"Scotch," the other man said as he slid next to the author.

"I thought you swore off the sauce, David," the author said as his smile grew. There was a merriment in his eyes as he looked at the drink set before his companion.

"Yeah, well, what fun is being on the bandwagon if you can't take a tumble now and then?"

"I wouldn't know," the author said as he took another drink from his own glass. "I never climbed on."

"Yeah, I know." There was a long pause. "You know why I'm here, right?"

"Same reason everyone else wants to talk to me, I suppose. You want to know when the next one is, right?"

"I'm not paid to surprise people. That's your job."

The author snorted. "Call it what you want. Anyway, the answer is the same--when it's ready, you'll have it."

"We aren't getting any younger, you know. I can't tear it to pieces if either of us are dead."

"Don't worry, David. I'm plenty older than you. I'll croak and you can blast me without retribution."

"Eh, hard to pick on dead authors. People get touchy about 'preserving their memory' or whatever you want to call it. Besides, if you don't finish, I can't even do that."

"Oh, don't worry. My literary executor will take care of everything. You know I plan for all these eventualities."

"Right. So you're just here to give these people the run around again?"

"Sure, why not? Smoke and mirrors isn't too far from words and punctuation, you know. If I can charm these people, they're as satisfied as if they read the book. More, maybe, since they can gloat over others who didn't get the chance."

"Pessimistic bastard."

The author laughed. "Funny, I'm sure that's what you'd say about the book, too."

"Right. Well, that's all I needed. I don't suppose you're going to tell me anything else I can use, are you?"

"That what's coming is going to blow away all the expectations."

And the author was left alone again, for a moment. He finished his drink and turned towards the crowd, putting on his smile and stepping out among them. It wasn't long before he was noticed.

"Oh! Your last book, I have a question..."

"And I have an answer," he said. She laughed, like they always laughed, and he listened to her with all his attention as she began to speak. The party around them listened in this time. At the bar, they knew to keep their distance. But now, here, was something for them. Something they wanted to hear.

The author didn't disappoint.

Some time later, the author retired for a moment to the balcony outside the main room. It was a summer night, full of the magic of the season. Yet he was not alone. There was a young woman, younger perhaps than Mia (though it was hard to tell how old people were these days) who stood by herself nursing a drink and the bruised ego of a night gone badly.

"Rough night?"

The woman turned to look at him, blinking in surprise, as if she was trying to comprehend why he was here talking to her. "Um ... something like that."

"I understand. At least this helps," he said, gesturing to the moonlight garden below them.

"Yes, it does indeed." She looked up at him, her eyes narrowing. "Do I ... know you?"

"Maybe," the author said, puffing up a bit at the recognition. He had known that he wasn't the entire reason for the party, and it was nice to know that even those who hadn't come for him knew him by face and reputation. "What was the last book you read?"

The woman laughed. "Oh, I don't know. I don't really read books much. Hm. You know, I could swear I know you from somewhere. Have you ever done any movies?"

The author sighed and shook his head. "No, afraid not."

"Oh well. My mistake."

The conversation died between them. Both of them returned their attention to the night, the garden, and their own thoughts. Remaining ignorant of each other, they both raised their glasses and took a drink.

Podcast Demo "Houses"

I was bored and had something to say, and nobody was around. Listen to my tired ramblings by clicking the title to this post (should work should work should work).

If you want to be helpful, lemme know if it sounds all right. I was kinda just flying on whim. Totally unscripted, completely random.

This link will also work if the above doesn't.

http://www.archive.org/details/LitrockPodcastDemoHouses_279

High School Reunion

So this morning I load up facebook and see that there's a group to plan next May's 5 year High School reunion for me.

Needless to say, reactions were mixed here in Lit Rock land.

On the one hand, I'm inherently against rights of passage. I barely put up with graduation, and that was mainly due to parental pressure. The idea of voluntarily caring about a suppose 'right of passage' is so foreign to me that my head instantly starts spinning a little.

On the other hand, I'm kind of amused at the idea. I had fun in high school. It wasn't great, but it was amusing.

No matter what the reaction, I'm having a hard time grasping the fact that five years have passed since then. My how time flies, y'know?

Giving further, more serious thought to the idea, I'm really at a loss. Five years isn't really a lot of time. One would argue ten years isn't really a lot of time. Most of these people who will show up are just getting out of college or going to grad school, and ... really, nothing much changes until you get out of college (everyone in college can bitch to me about how that's not true but talk to me a few years after you're in the real world and we'll talk again kthx).

So there isn't any time for all the real appealing features of high school reunions to take place--people breeding, failing, surprising success stories, the beauties getting skanky and the late bloomers becoming awesome.

I dunno, maybe it's just me, but I want to see some train wrecks. That's half the reason I'd ever go to one of these. Then again, maybe I could get back into touch with people who dropped off my radar. Decisions, decisions.

Stupid people and social events. Seriously.

Jesus Christ, he's still alive!

Not Jesus, mind you. He's dead. Has been for ... oh, 1975 years.

Nah, I'm talking about me. Not a savior, not even a good guy, I can turn wine into vinegar and try to stay away from water because I don't like swimming. But I am alive, and I am here to once again make an entry. A good one? Ha, not hardly. I don't have enough to say to make a good post, but I'm sure I'll fill this with enough inane errata and meaningless life updates to make people glad I'm not filling my blog with this shit on a regular basis.

So lately (other than being sick [yeah, I know, I'm sick a lot] and just in the past few days feeling 100%) I've fallen back into my gaming habit. It comes and goes, and right now it's here. Hardcore. Obsession of choice these days? Blue Dragon. I've dropped an embarassing amount of time into it in the past week and a half. Thankfully, I'm almost done, so I can move on to more sane activities. But it's been a crazy week and a half. It reminds me of junior high, when I spent all summer gaming. Those were the days, those carefree lazy days, when all I needed was a spikey-haired protagonist with a big sword repeatedly killing waves of enemies for minimal gains to make me happy.

Not anymore. No way, Jose (unrelated to Jesus). No, now I demand ... well, no, it's the same shit, different disk. But now it has achievements. That's gotta count for something, right? Certainly it's motivated me to drop ridiculous amounts of time into the damn thing.

In other news, I think I might have mentioned I have a netflix account. Because I'm a movie person, I'm serious about my netflix. And I'd like friends. So if you read this, have netflix, and aren't my friend on there yet, feel free to add me. I'll mostly just judge you based on your ratings and queue, not tell you that I think I'm better than you, and look over what you've seen to find stuff I've seen to rate because I'm too lazy to try to remember and rate them individually.

Good times

Speaking of films--good god (related to Jesus, if you believe those Christian folk) it's been a crazy movie season, hasn't it? One weekend after another, stuff I needed to see. I might as well go ahead with the obligitory "What I watched and what I thought of it" but instead of listing everything I'll just point out the three I enjoyed the most and maybe a bit of why

1. Speed Racer

The fact that nobody saw this film is, quite frankly, fucking embarassing. It's still the best thing I saw all year (so far). It's absolutely fantastic. What should have been a train wreck turned into a thing of beauty. It's very experimental, at times edging towards impressionism and abstraction. And it works. I don't know how, I just sit down and enjoy the damn thing. But it's worth it

So when it comes out on DVD, put it on your netflix queue and watch it (or better yet buy it so the Wachowski's can stop crying) so I'll respect you again.

2. Wanted

It's stupid. Yes, I'll admit, it's very stupid.

It's also very, very stylish. And I'm the kind of guy who appreciates a film that doesn't mess around when it comes to being cool

I have nothing else to say here. Watch the trailer. If you don't think it looks cool ... well, then I can't talk to you any more. And guess what? The best stuff isn't even in the trailer.

3. Wall-E

Lots has been said about this one lately, because those right-wing crazies are calling it leftist propaganda. You wanna know why? Because they'd be happy to have us all floating in chairs all day, oblivious to the world around us.

Wall-E is probably going to turn out to be Pixar's dark horse film. It's not really for kids. They know they have an adult demographic, and I really think they played to that this time. There are some surprising subtexts here, and plenty of the typical Pixar touches that add up to make the film something special.

If you have the attention span of a newt, you might find it a slow-starter. It's certainly a lot less funny and a lot more competant as a film than some of their films. But it is, without a doubt, worth seeing.

Today is the day Hellboy 2: The Golden Army comes out. I have to tell you, I'm crazy excited for this one. Hellboy was great. This one almost HAS to be better in probably every way. That's just how it goes

Though, needless to say, my excitement is somewhat overshadowed by something coming out next week. Hehe.

(Lies. I'm really hoping for earth-shatteringly influential, but again ... modesty is a virtue and I need all the help I can get.)

Um ... let's see. Anything else?

Oh yes. My friend Sarah writes really good movies but nobody reads her scripts for her. I think we should all give a collective 'aww' and if you have free time annoy her to do something with her scripts so we can have movie versions in our theatres before we're all collecting social security.

And maybe, if you have free time, see if you can't pry her screenplay draft out of her greedy fingers. I'm totally not running this by her, so she could say no to total strangers, but the thought would likely flatter her and I do what I can. Not to mention you'll get to see her squirm as she fights warring impulses to show her work to people and to be protective of where it goes, all the while trying to turn you down gently in her overly-nice way.

Speaking of readers, Kris got around to reading MS this past weekend, making my failure rate on people I can rely on somewhat less embarassing. Too bad she already had a free pass, since my books aren't anywhere close to her typical reading habits. Especially a novel as full of navel-gazing art-house sensibility as MS.

That said, her opinions were solid, even if she maybe wasn't super keen on the book. Which is fine. She suffers for having known the author longer than is healthy for anyone.

Speaking of, my vacation to see said Kris is coming up, so I'll be going on hiatus from August 6th to the 10th to soak up the rays (more like the rain, since it's monsoon season there) in hot and desert-like Tucson. Should be a gas. Or something.

Expect me to get wasted, wander off into the desert, and be eaten by scorpions. Or something similarly grisly.

Of course, given how often I update this blog, nobody would have noticed my absence anyway. But ... I figure advance notice is a good idea, regardless.

And I'm done. Now let's see how long it takes me to give a shit and do this again. Bets? Winner gets a free drink of their choice*!

*Drink of choice limited to one beverage purchased under $10 by me at a time convenient by me at a location of my choosing. Offer not valid for those living out of the United States, unless they come back here to claim their prize. One play per customer, one winner will be chosen, not all who play will win (unless only one lucky bastard plays). Prize can not be redeemed for cash. In the event of a tie, I'll pick whoever catches my fancy at that moment.

Alive!

So I've spent the past week being horrendously sick. Like bed-ridden, my soul is being crushed kinds of sick. But I'm slowly crawling out of it and that's (of course) a plus. There's nothing quite like the feeling of wellness after illness to make you appreciate what it is to be healthy.

That said, it's time to pick back up the writing again and start kicking ass on it. I'd like to get a good chunk of my current novel pounded out before I leave on vacation (going to Tucson for five days in August), and that's going to take some concentrated effort on my part.

Oh, and my novel has a title now! The CDE Project is now known as The Cafe Between Reality and Dreams. I'll undoubtedly still refer to it as CDE, but now it has something more official to go by. Updates will be shown in the sidebar

>>>>THIS WAY!>>>>>>

Whenever I get around to updating them.

That is all.

The Top 5 Books That Changed My Life

This idea's from Sarah. The idea is to list the top books that have changed your life. They don't have to be your favorites, but they have to be the ones that had the most impact. I actually have about eight books, but Sarah's a neophyte and insisted I make the list managable, so I cut it at five. Hope she's happy.

1. The Mystery of Chimney Rock - Choose Your Own Adventure.

No, I'm not kidding. This is the book that I blame for becoming a reader. Back, once upon a time, I really didn't like reading. Then one day, bored at school, I picked up this book. For some reason, be it the visceral feel of flipping back and forth or the various ways you could meet an untimely end or the stellar, award-winning writing, this book completely changed the way I looked at all those papery things sitting on the shelves.

I was truly never the same again.

2. The Stand - Stephen King

Believe it or not, it took a long long time for another book to blow my mind. To be honest, this book is kind of a placeholder for most of the work of Mr King, but it is quite a standout (pun mercifully unintended).

The Stand is more than just a book, it's an experience. Impossibly epic, the brick accompanied me on a road trip to the black hills when I was ... oh, fourteen? Reading about characters making their way across a country devastated by a supervirus as I was driving through the wastes of northern Nebraska and southern South Dakota was one of those magical summer childhood experiences that has always been with me.

Bonus points for King for using a unified world, of course, with characters from one book popping up in another. Anybody who knows me knows that I'm all about cross-pollination of my characters.

3. The Odyssey

Homer's Greek epic about ships and monsters and Odysseus. Yeah, I know, you look at me and say "So what?" And I tell you, "But it means EVERYTHING!"

The Odyssey is everything I love about quest tales (honorable mentions to this list Lord of the Rings and Voyage of the Dawn Treader) and epic poetry (other honorable mention The Divine Comedy) wrapped into one. The hero with his flaws sets out to do what he must, and along the way gets himself into shit you just want to strangle him for.

But because he's Odysseus, and he's just that cool, he always weasles his way out of situations. Odysseus is cut from the same character cloth as most trickster-archetypes, such as Bugs Bunny or Jack Sparrow. Unlike them, he racks up quite a body count of friends who aren't nearly as blessed with main character status.

It's funny, it's tragic, and it's epic. The Odyssey truly is epic in every sense of the word, spanning years and miles and planes of existance in its story. It opened my eyes to just how big a story could be. To the scope that could be presented to tell such a small moral (don't be an arrogant dick, especially to the gods).

And it's still my favorite Greek classic.

4. House of Leaves - Mark Z Danielewski

I've never met anyone who has read this book.

Everyone should read this book.

That said, this is one of the most frightening things I've ever read. A meta-book, a book within a book within a book, the story is the most convoluted, non-Euclidian nightmare that you could ever imagine. And it's fitting, too. This is a masterful book, that is very aware of itself as a book and utilizes the unique opportunities that the written word has over other media to help supercharge its tale in a unique way.

Never did I feel that books had as much power as I did when I read this one. I still feel uneasy when I look at my copy.

But I really wish I knew someone who had read this one.

5. Jitterbug Perfume - Tom Robbins

Might as well be a stand in for all of Robbins' books, but it's my favorite, as well. When I think of Literary Rockstar-dom, Tom Robbins is the embodiment of exactly what I mean.

Fearless, edgy, yet endlessly comfortable, Jitterbug Perfume blew the doors off of writing and convinced me to take more risks and not only write bigger, but think bigger. With his comfortable, casual style, Robbins can both turn a phrase and warp a mind without much effort.

His books are endlessly cool, with metaphors hanging off of similies which cling desperately to symbolism that's slowly losing purchase as it holds, with one slowly weakening hand, to Robbin's cigarette (legal or not).

It shouldn't work, it should be a massive disaster, but it works amazingly. Never did I feel so empowered as I did after this book. In fact, this book is partially responsible for the creation of this blog.

.... and that's it. That's five. Hope you enjoy, and if you want to read any of them, I provided links so you could go get them yourselves. Ones that are also on the list (but didn't make it because of Sarah's silly cut-off:

- Musashi, Eiji Yoshikawa
- 1984, George Orwell
- Dance, Dance, Dance, Haruki Murakami

Random Update

Sorry this space has been so quiet lately. There just isn't much to say. I've been sick and busy and generally bleh. Once I stop being bleh, maybe I'll have something more to put here. It doesn't help that all my heroes keep dying.

First it was Stan Winston, which was tragic. But then there was Carlin, a man who by all accounts should have been too full of spite to die. I suppose that's what happens when you start getting drug-induced heart attacks in your 40s.

Carlin was and is probably the biggest influence on my sense of humor. He taught me things about delivery and cadence that I use every day. It's not just to be funny ... in fact, funny isn't really important. It's all in how you say what you have to say. With the right twist and the proper sense of abandon, ANYTHING can be funny. It's that disregard for convention that I try to hold near and dear to my heart.

Anyway, I don't know how well my readers knew Carlin, but everyone should watch at least some of his stuff. Luckily, some gracious youtube person posted every single one of his shows. Go ahead and enjoy. The playlists are organized quite well. The best way to remember him would be to watch, and laugh.

http://www.youtube.com/profile_play_list?user=DiavoloDiAno