I know, I know. I just finished ranting about a "found footage" movie that I didn't enjoy, and I'm already gearing up to hate on some more. It's a little much, but what producers apparently fail to understand is that horror is a delicate thing. Sure, it comes off as mean and nasty with a tough exterior, but really, it's all mushy and soft and insecure on the inside. Why Hollywood feels like punishing it so fervently is absolutely beyond me, though.
Since this apparently didn't stick (or, more likely, no one with the kind of influence necessary to stop these abominations reads my blog), let me break this down in a point-by-point analysis. And then, yes, I will pick apart a bunch of movies that aren't even out yet (as well as some that have already "graced" the theaters) that star non-threatening and attractive young people who find themselves going up against horrible forces that want to kill them in creative ways. Yes, I do get sick satisfaction out of this kind of stuff.
The Three Types of Scary: No, not all scares are created equal, and on some fundamental level, we all know this. The most elementary scare is the one that many haunted houses and high-school pranks rely on, and that is the jump-scare. It has its place in a scary movie, typically as a precursor to a more sophisticated type of fright, but I find that it's overused these days, especially in the "found footage" sub-genre. The second type of scare, which requires some skill to execute well, is based solely on tension. When the creepy violin music (or lack of sound altogether) is slowly injected into a scene and the audience gets on the edge of their seats in tense anticipation of what the director is going to come up with next. To poke at Paranormal Activity with a stick (again), this is pretty impressively done in the first film. Without any kind of musical cue, the audience comes to expect some kind of small supernatural occurrence every time the hand-held camera lingers for too long on a single object. When done right, this conditions the audience to react in a certain way, and can even be subverted for extra fear effect. On the other hand, when it gets abused, you get a bunch of tired attempts at horror that no one really cares about because the telegraphing was a little too obvious. And finally, you have the master stroke of horror; the big, frightening, will-scare-you-into-insomnia scare. The mind-screw. Incredibly difficult to pull off properly, this one requires a bit of synergy between the audience, the screenwriter, and the director. A movie like the original "Exorcist" will stay with you, not just because of the horrific imagery and terrifying acting, but because the whole movie gets into your head and pulls at those strings of curiosity. If you can get your audience to check behind their curtains before turning down the lights, you've done this one right, and you deserve a medal.
And now, rage time. It took me a while to get to the actual thesis of this little rant, but here is the catalyst: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2034139/ Yes. That is a link to the Last Exorcism 2. No, you probably should not click on it, lest you lose faith in mankind (and whatever idiot came up with the title). It's another "found footage" film, and it makes me foam at the mouth. Not in a good way. Aside from the inherent problem with the title The Last Exorcism 2, this will make or break my faith in people. You see, part of the appeal of the found footage sub-genre is that it comes off as a sort of documentary made by an everyman over his head. More importantly, when one of these movies sequels up without a clear setup in the original installment, it breaks suspension of disbelief. Take this movie for example. You're telling me that there was a SECOND documentary team that's going to deal with this possessed woman? Really? Even after the first on (SPOILER ALERT) died horrendously? (Yeah, you didn't see that coming?) Just... What the hell, Hollywood? Moving on...
The second target of the rage-cannon is targeted at the Paranormal Activity series. Oh, you thought that 3 was the end of the whole debacle? I'd hoped so, too. And I'm sorry. I'm so very, very sorry, but according to the head of domestic distribution over at Paramount Pictures... "I can't imagine that we wouldn't make a number four, and I imagine
(Paramount Film Group president) Adam Goodman this morning is thinking
about the challenge. I'm sure he's thinking, 'Now what do I do?'" (http://www.dreadcentral.com/news/48262/paranormal-activity-4-haunt-theatres-next-october) Okay, so it's not the most concrete news source I could dredge up, but Paramount reps have a number of interviews saying that they want to make up to three more movies in the franchise. Okay, so in case that wasn't 100% clear... PARAMOUNT PICTURES WANTS TO BRING US ALL THE WAY TO PARANORMAL ACTIVITY 6. I would like to point them at another horror series that went down the drain, even though it started off on a good note: Halloween. Do you want Rob Zombie directing the Paranormal Activity reboot, Paramount? Is that really your master plan? It is, isn't it? Getting the reboot money by having a music icon remake your movie? Bono put you up to this, didn't he? I honestly wouldn't be surprised... Look, showing us that this perfectly ordinary-looking couple recorded a haunting/demon stalking in their house was one thing. I could swallow that story. In fact, it was a pretty delicious tale. Telling me that the sister of the character in the first movie recorded her own haunting as well? That was stretching it. When I found out that their mother's boyfriend recorded the first instance of their haunting while they were kids? That felt a little insulting. But telling me, in all honesty, that the SAME GODDAMN HAUNTING is going to be recorded THREE MORE GODDAMN TIMES? That is a straight-on kick in the groin, Paramount. We are no longer friends. I can't really process that right now. Three more shaky-cam movies centering around the demon who wants a first-born child for some ancient pact or somesuch? Is the next movie going to go into the original demon pact, and be complete with some hapless doofus trying to record the whole event? God, that's going to be one of them, isn't it? I need to stop writing about Paranormal Activity. Okay. Moving on now.
There is one shaky-cam horror flick that I have high hopes for. It's called The House of Horror, and despite winning my personal award for having the least ambiguous horror movie name of all time, it looks promising. Why? Because it's not only shaky handhelds and things going "boo!" off-camera. No, unlike your average Ghost Hunters episode, House of Horror claims that it will focus on the aftermath of a found-footage horror movie. Six college kids go into deadly house, one walks out and claims that evil things in the house killed his buddies. And he might be possessed by the devil. No one really knows, and I can't make a judgment until I actually see it. In my head, I can picture the whole thing having a very Usual Suspects feel, with the survivor recounting his version of the events as the detectives spool through the actual tapes. Not 100% found footage, but it might be close enough to the style to count. I'm actually half-hoping this one flies under the radar a bit, if only so we won't have to deal with House of Horror 2: Electric Boogaloo. It's slated for a 2013 release, though, so for all I know it could end up getting shot down before it gets even a little bit of altitude. I really hope not, though.
As for the movie that already hit theaters, a lot of you may not have fond memories of it, and that's probably because you didn't buy in to the original marketing. Alternately, you heard about/saw/smelled the vomit from those who had seen the sequel. The Blair Witch Project. Don't groan just yet. On its own, if you went along with the viral ad campaign that it was actual found footage, this movie is pretty damn terrifying. No special effects to speak of, the acting is pretty genuine (as a result of the "director" scaring the living bejeezus out of his actors), and the plot is simple enough to follow. The only bone I have to pick with this bastard of a film is its ugly twin: The Book of Shadows, or whatever the hell that travesty was called. Not only did it tell the first movie to die in a hole by abandoning the revolutionary (for the time, yes. It absolutely was), shaky-cam style, the sequel fell back into "unnaturally pretty people keep dying in awful ways" formula that got tired in the eighties. As far as disappointing follow-ups go, I think this might even win out over the Star Wars prequels. Don't try to watch this movie. I'm not kidding. If you enjoyed Blair Witch, the disappointment will cripple you, and if you didn't enjoy the first film, Book of Shadows might give you an aneurysm. Part of what made Blair Witch watchable was the fact that the characters were not well-groomed or strategically mussed up. They looked like real, people; the kind of people who would actually be film students. Apparently the producers of the second movie forgot EVERYTHING that made the first one successful.
So, there you have it. Instead of a bit on writing, you get me hating on horror films. It's a nice deviation for both of us. Even if I think one day a shoddily made horror film is going to give me an ulcer. And you know what? I'll probably wait to get that problem taken care of until I have ranted thoroughly about how much I hated the film.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Character, Character, Character
So, here we are, on to NaNo Exercise #2! I promise, this one won't make you want to stab yourself in the eyes. Okay, I can't guarantee that. But I can guarantee it'll be less painful. Before we begin, I need you to gather up a few items for me, though. Go raid a Monopoly set, or a Risk box; you're going to need a six-sided die. While you're on your feet, grab a pen or pencil and some paper. Coffee is optional here, as this is a relatively quick exercise that you can do multiple times. It actually gets pretty fun once you get the hang of it. So, open up a word processor so you can save your results and let's get to work.
First, pick six professions. They don't have to be terribly complex, just any six. Write them down in a column and number them. Next, you're going to pick any six nervous habits, and then you're going to do the same thing with those. Got it? Great. Now, the six words you use the most that are not essential components of the English language. (So, you know, don't write down "a", "the", "and", etc...). Number 'em. And here we go. Roll the die, come up with your character's profession, nervous tic, and the one word you're not allowed to use for this exercise. Okay, all set? You're going to write a whole paragraph introducing this character, without going over 500 words. Feel free to post your results in the comments section. We can always workshop these together. I'll be putting mine up, too. Hopefully this time I'll have a little more success since this exercise doesn't inherently make me want to find tall buildings to throw my computer off of.
If you want to go for an extra challenge, try to go through the whole paragraph without using any direct characterization; i.e. don't tell us that his left eye twitches when he's around skim milk, have someone put skim milk in front of him and show us what happens. Little touches like that help bring characters to life, even if that life is a comically ridiculous one.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
First, pick six professions. They don't have to be terribly complex, just any six. Write them down in a column and number them. Next, you're going to pick any six nervous habits, and then you're going to do the same thing with those. Got it? Great. Now, the six words you use the most that are not essential components of the English language. (So, you know, don't write down "a", "the", "and", etc...). Number 'em. And here we go. Roll the die, come up with your character's profession, nervous tic, and the one word you're not allowed to use for this exercise. Okay, all set? You're going to write a whole paragraph introducing this character, without going over 500 words. Feel free to post your results in the comments section. We can always workshop these together. I'll be putting mine up, too. Hopefully this time I'll have a little more success since this exercise doesn't inherently make me want to find tall buildings to throw my computer off of.
If you want to go for an extra challenge, try to go through the whole paragraph without using any direct characterization; i.e. don't tell us that his left eye twitches when he's around skim milk, have someone put skim milk in front of him and show us what happens. Little touches like that help bring characters to life, even if that life is a comically ridiculous one.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Asher Did a Bad, Bad Thing
I do not recommend following my example today: I scrapped all of my NaNo work so far and decided on a new topic. Why? Because I really didn't like the way my story was proceeding, and instead of just running with it, I started on a completely screwball tangent that got out of control. Now, we're not so far along in the month that this is an impossible thing to recover from, but it is going to be difficult for me to get back on track. I don't even have a title for my new project, but I think I'll manage to make it. If not, then I won't succeed at NaNo. Wouldn't be the first time. Besides, NaNo is all about the journey.
Now, I remember promising a story for all of you today; a conclusion of the exercise I put up not too long ago, so here you have it: The Brixton Correspondence
The following is a record of communication between investigative journalist Steve Brixton and one Roddy Tavish, a mail clerk for Carmichel Analytics, Inc.
June 20, 1993
Hey, Steve, hope I got the mailing address right. My name's Roddy Tavish. We spoke on the phone a few months ago. Not sure if you'd really remember me. You were trying to dig up information on that guy, Robert Dorlan, right? You said he used to work for the company, and I didn't really have much to say about it. Well, he just started getting mail. A lot of mail. Like, bags and bags of it. I've been sorting through it, and I think there's something weird about it. There's no junk mail, and there aren't any return addresses. Was he being threatened or something? I'll try to hold onto it, since he doesn't have an office here anymore, but I don't know how much longer I can keep it here.
-Roddy Tavish
June 22, 1993
Thank you for getting me into the mail room yesterday, Roddy. It was a big leap forward for the piece that I'm writing. I'm sorry, but I need you to keep my involvement a secret. And I need a favor. Can you find out the last day that Dorlan worked? I don't care how you find out, but I need that information. I'll pay you for your time. Just get it to me.
Brixton
June 23, 1993 [Date found on a Post-It note attacked to a notecard bearing the following text]
How much?
[Signed on the back]
RT
June 25, 1993
Funny trick you did there, getting that card into my jacket. When did you do that? Maybe I just didn't see you, but how the hell did you find me? Don't do that again. I can give you $150, more that enough for for finding out someone's last day at work.
P.S. I mean it. Never again.
Brixton
June 28, 1993
I don't know what you're talking about. What card? I don't think it really matters. I got the information you need. Meet me at the coffee shop at the end of North Washington Ave. The one by the warehouses. July 2nd, 8:00 P.M.
-Roddy
July 3, 1993
It was interesting seeing you again, Roddy. Are you feeling okay? You looked exhausted, but I didn't want to mention it. Thank you, though. Those punch times were exactly what I needed to finish this article up. If everything goes well, I should be able to wrap this up within a few weeks. Thanks again for the help.
P.S. Try to get some sleep. You looked like you could need it.
Brixton
September 9, 1993
I can't believe this! He was a murderer? He was a murderer and you never told me? And you know what's weirder? His mail keeps on coming. You saw it on his times. He worked for two days! Two days back in April, and his mail didn't start until late June. It still hasn't stopped. Still nothing but envelopes with his name on them. What should I do?
-Roddy
September 16, 1993
Roddy,
Sorry it took so long to get back to you, but I've been getting a lot of mail about that article. The whole thing was true, though. I'll give you just the facts, you can tell me if you think I was wrong.
1. Rupert Dorlan had only one paper trail: The two days he worked at Carmichael Analytics. I still have no idea why.
2. After his second day at work, Dorlan resigned.
3. Dorlan's car was last seen idling outside of a funeral home three miles north of the Carmichael Analytics office.
4. Dana Murdoch stepped into Dorlan's car after it had been idling for fifteen minutes.
5. On April 20, 1993, Dana Murdoch's body was found in an abandoned steel mill.
6. A letter sent by a man claiming to be Rupert Dorlan led to the discovery of her body, claiming that he had been responsible for Dana Murdoch's death.
7. Despite the letter, Dorlan refused to speak at his trial, save to plead "not guilty". He was convicted and sentenced to death.
8. Before the sentence could be carried out, Dorlan died in his cell. His guards believed that he chewed off his own tongue.
9. Dorlan's tongue was never found.
So, given all of that, and the fact that he has no living relatives, who the hell would be sending him mail, Roddy?
Brixton
[Date unknown. Written on a notecard in handwriting identified as that of Roddy Tavish]
They're all empty.
-RT
September 23, 1993
Are you just not mailing me back, Mister Brixton? I didn't mean to accuse you of anything with my last letter, I was just very stressed. You sounded so angry on the phone when you called last week. Did you get that bag of letters? I sent them just like you asked.
-Roddy
September 26, 1993
What the hell are you talking about, Roddy? I never called you. Also, what did you mean by that strange notecard? What do you mean "they're all empty"?
Brixton
October 1, 1993
Mister Brixton, we need to talk in person. Something strange is happening. Meet me at the office. I need to speak to you.
[This was the last letter sent between Roddy Tavish and Steve Brixton. They were found dead in the mail room of Carmichael Analytics on the morning of October 4, 1993. Their death was ruled a double suicide, and no evidence of the letters Mr. Tavish referenced has been found. The case is still being considered an ongoing investigation.]
Okay, I know. That was lame. There wasn't much of a conclusion, and I'm several days late. Like I said, rebooting a NaNo project almost a week in is a terrible idea, and I'm sorry that I ever did it. After this is all over, I'm going to go back and remove the suck from this story, maybe even give it a proper ending, exposition, and antagonist. Still, this is what happens with rush work, and it's good to accumulate this type of writing. Helps to cultivate new ideas. Every sentence that goes down on paper (or the screen) in fiction writing has the potential to be great. The above story didn't really live up to that, but with revision, it might even become readable. Tomorrow, I'll have a less grueling exercise; maybe one that some people will even participate in.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
Now, I remember promising a story for all of you today; a conclusion of the exercise I put up not too long ago, so here you have it: The Brixton Correspondence
The following is a record of communication between investigative journalist Steve Brixton and one Roddy Tavish, a mail clerk for Carmichel Analytics, Inc.
June 20, 1993
Hey, Steve, hope I got the mailing address right. My name's Roddy Tavish. We spoke on the phone a few months ago. Not sure if you'd really remember me. You were trying to dig up information on that guy, Robert Dorlan, right? You said he used to work for the company, and I didn't really have much to say about it. Well, he just started getting mail. A lot of mail. Like, bags and bags of it. I've been sorting through it, and I think there's something weird about it. There's no junk mail, and there aren't any return addresses. Was he being threatened or something? I'll try to hold onto it, since he doesn't have an office here anymore, but I don't know how much longer I can keep it here.
-Roddy Tavish
June 22, 1993
Thank you for getting me into the mail room yesterday, Roddy. It was a big leap forward for the piece that I'm writing. I'm sorry, but I need you to keep my involvement a secret. And I need a favor. Can you find out the last day that Dorlan worked? I don't care how you find out, but I need that information. I'll pay you for your time. Just get it to me.
Brixton
June 23, 1993 [Date found on a Post-It note attacked to a notecard bearing the following text]
How much?
[Signed on the back]
RT
June 25, 1993
Funny trick you did there, getting that card into my jacket. When did you do that? Maybe I just didn't see you, but how the hell did you find me? Don't do that again. I can give you $150, more that enough for for finding out someone's last day at work.
P.S. I mean it. Never again.
Brixton
June 28, 1993
I don't know what you're talking about. What card? I don't think it really matters. I got the information you need. Meet me at the coffee shop at the end of North Washington Ave. The one by the warehouses. July 2nd, 8:00 P.M.
-Roddy
July 3, 1993
It was interesting seeing you again, Roddy. Are you feeling okay? You looked exhausted, but I didn't want to mention it. Thank you, though. Those punch times were exactly what I needed to finish this article up. If everything goes well, I should be able to wrap this up within a few weeks. Thanks again for the help.
P.S. Try to get some sleep. You looked like you could need it.
Brixton
September 9, 1993
I can't believe this! He was a murderer? He was a murderer and you never told me? And you know what's weirder? His mail keeps on coming. You saw it on his times. He worked for two days! Two days back in April, and his mail didn't start until late June. It still hasn't stopped. Still nothing but envelopes with his name on them. What should I do?
-Roddy
September 16, 1993
Roddy,
Sorry it took so long to get back to you, but I've been getting a lot of mail about that article. The whole thing was true, though. I'll give you just the facts, you can tell me if you think I was wrong.
1. Rupert Dorlan had only one paper trail: The two days he worked at Carmichael Analytics. I still have no idea why.
2. After his second day at work, Dorlan resigned.
3. Dorlan's car was last seen idling outside of a funeral home three miles north of the Carmichael Analytics office.
4. Dana Murdoch stepped into Dorlan's car after it had been idling for fifteen minutes.
5. On April 20, 1993, Dana Murdoch's body was found in an abandoned steel mill.
6. A letter sent by a man claiming to be Rupert Dorlan led to the discovery of her body, claiming that he had been responsible for Dana Murdoch's death.
7. Despite the letter, Dorlan refused to speak at his trial, save to plead "not guilty". He was convicted and sentenced to death.
8. Before the sentence could be carried out, Dorlan died in his cell. His guards believed that he chewed off his own tongue.
9. Dorlan's tongue was never found.
So, given all of that, and the fact that he has no living relatives, who the hell would be sending him mail, Roddy?
Brixton
[Date unknown. Written on a notecard in handwriting identified as that of Roddy Tavish]
They're all empty.
-RT
September 23, 1993
Are you just not mailing me back, Mister Brixton? I didn't mean to accuse you of anything with my last letter, I was just very stressed. You sounded so angry on the phone when you called last week. Did you get that bag of letters? I sent them just like you asked.
-Roddy
September 26, 1993
What the hell are you talking about, Roddy? I never called you. Also, what did you mean by that strange notecard? What do you mean "they're all empty"?
Brixton
October 1, 1993
Mister Brixton, we need to talk in person. Something strange is happening. Meet me at the office. I need to speak to you.
[This was the last letter sent between Roddy Tavish and Steve Brixton. They were found dead in the mail room of Carmichael Analytics on the morning of October 4, 1993. Their death was ruled a double suicide, and no evidence of the letters Mr. Tavish referenced has been found. The case is still being considered an ongoing investigation.]
Okay, I know. That was lame. There wasn't much of a conclusion, and I'm several days late. Like I said, rebooting a NaNo project almost a week in is a terrible idea, and I'm sorry that I ever did it. After this is all over, I'm going to go back and remove the suck from this story, maybe even give it a proper ending, exposition, and antagonist. Still, this is what happens with rush work, and it's good to accumulate this type of writing. Helps to cultivate new ideas. Every sentence that goes down on paper (or the screen) in fiction writing has the potential to be great. The above story didn't really live up to that, but with revision, it might even become readable. Tomorrow, I'll have a less grueling exercise; maybe one that some people will even participate in.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Oh, Look! A Pep Talk!
Day 3 of NaNo. We're expected as writers (or crackheads) to have 5,000 words written by midnight tonight. This sounds like a pretty daunting number, but let's just break it down into small steps, and everything will be fine. I haven't quite finished with my own response to yesterday's challenge, so today will be a pretty light, contemplative day, focused on helping late-starters catch up to NaNo vets.
Tip #1: Don't sweat it. Seriously.
A lot of times, when I talk to people about NaNo, I hear this response almost immediately: "But how can I write a whole book in one month? That's ridiculous!" And my heart sinks just a little. See, the trick isn't to write a whole, perfect, brilliant shining novel. Just write anything at all. It doesn't need to make sense, that's the beauty of it. Let your fingers get away with you, and invest in dictation software for when your digits are about to drop off. It doesn't need to be coherent yet; that's what the rest of the year is for: editing.
Tip #2: Destroy your backspace key.
I wish more people had given me this advice back in the day. A NaNo manuscript should be a raw, powerful, and typo-riddled mess that shows the pure grit of those marathon typists who gave it their all, swimming through pot after pot of coffee, without giving any thought to that perfect word. The perfect word will come later. You've got all the time in the world for it. Right now, just fill some empty space with words. You never know, what started off as an awkward typo could turn into a brilliant turn of phrase.
Tip #3: Story (for now) is secondary.
You don't need to have a world-changing, far-reaching, emotionally gripping plot. For now. Again, you have the rest of the year to touch up the manuscript. Just let the words flow straight from your brain to the page. It's like a diary, but fictional, and quite potentially a lot less bizarre.
Tip #4: Go wild.
Trust me. Think of the craziest sketch or scene possible right now. Does it involve David Bowie? If not, throw him in. A time machine that runs on toenail clippings? Why not? This shouldn't be the next Great American Novel. If you try to do that, you're likely to get tripped up in the little details and around the 10,000 word mark you'll run out of steam trying to figure out what challenge your characters need to overcome next. One of the stories in Cigarettes and Suffragettes is going to involve a duck that gains the ability to read human minds, and goes on a quest to acquire all of the bread in the world. No, it doesn't make sense. Yes, the title of that particular story is The Great Tale of Nomms the Duck. I'm not kidding about letting your imagination run away with you. Not only will you be less critical of yourself, but other people will be willing to appreciate the sheer insanity that you've decided to blow up onto the page.
So, with all of that squared away, what are you waiting for? Get to typing, don't look back, and put an extra pot of coffee on the burner. You're probably going to need it.
I'm serious about that backspace key. Disable it or something.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
An Alternative and NaNo Exercise #1
[From the Journal of Kristi Rey
October 8, 2006
I'm not sure what's going on anymore. I thought that keeping a diary would help make things easier. That's what Dan and I decided when we first moved in here. I've been trying so hard not to go through his things, but I feel like we're just drifting so far apart. I feel like there are things that I keep forgetting. Important things. Dan says that it's alright, though. He has to be right. I mean nothing has happened in the house for weeks. But it still feels so wrong. Why do I feel guilty? I wish I could just stop feeling like this.
I think I'm losing my mind, though. Is this what Mom felt like those last few weeks? I can't help remembering the night that she lost it completely. Katie and I were asleep in our room, and Katie woke up, screaming like something was hurting her. Mom ran up the stairs, her eyes wild and angry. God, I don't think that I'll ever forget that face. She had a candle in her hand, and she just looked at Katie for a second, and was calm again. Not a normal kind of calm, though. Like the kind of calm you get in the middle of a hurricane, when nothing is moving but you know it's about to all go to hell. Then, she just walked up to the edge of Katie's bed and held the candle next to her comforter and waited for the flame to catch. They both just stood there, watching the fire try to swallow up the bed for the longest time. I swear, it must have been hours. That's what it felt like. And then Katie just stood up and started to walk away. Mom didn't move. She just crawled under Katie's blankets and stayed there. I couldn't stop her, and I couldn't stop watching. And then, all of a sudden, I was outside. Katie doesn't remember how the fire started. It's like... It's like she just wasn't there. I guess I wasn't there for a little while, either.
But I remember that sick feeling I got in my stomach whenever I thought about Mom during those few weeks. The weeks before she burned herself alive. Before the whole house went up. I get that feeling now whenever I think of Katie. Like something awful is about to happen and I won't be able to stop it. It's weird, you know? The police never found any evidence of arson, but that's what it was. We never talked about it. All Katie remembers is that Mom was acting weird, shutting herself up in her bedroom for days at a time, banging on the walls like some kind of animal. Who's going to remember this time, though? Is anyone going to be there for her if she goes off the deep end? I hope there's someone. It just wouldn't be fair otherwise. Dan says I need to get more sleep. I keep getting these headaches. Maybe he's right. Still, I feel like I should give Katie a call tomorrow, just to make sure she's okay.
And why do I still feel guilty?]
So, there you have it. That was just a quick little writing exercise. One day of work on it, to try and make a point: Just because something works once, doesn't mean that you need to push your luck by running the same gimmick for three films. I would've preferred if the entirety of Paranormal Activity 2 had been told via a viral website that gave insight into the journals of Dan and Kristi. Why? Because it would have been fresh. It would have been new, and the final page could have linked to a police report or newspaper article that sums up the events after the end of the movie. But maybe that's just me.
But moving on now. Some of you may know about National Novel Writing Month (NaNo or NaNoWriMo for short), and some of you may also be participants this year. If not, we're only two days in, so it's not terribly late to register. All you need are a couple of extra cups of coffee and you'll be plenty caught up. As for me, I'll be writing a collection of short stories entitled "Cigarettes and Suffragettes" to challenge myself. I want to try and work on some more plot-centric pieces, because I've come to rely on complex characters as a crutch. I'd like to invite any of my readers to join me in this writing exercise and leave your result as a comment or link in the comments. I'll read and leave feedback, and I'll also be posting my own result by Friday at the latest. Here goes:
NaNo Exercise #1
Write a story in an epistolary format. Either take the perspective of the character through journal entries (like the truncated version I did above) or give the whole story as a series of newspaper pieces and the like. It's a little complicated, but when done well, this type of story can be very powerful and really do quite a lot to aid suspension of disbelief. So please, try it out and aim for an absolute minimum of 500 words. That's an afternoon or so of writing, tops. Let's charge into the thick of NaNo, folks!
Also, I promise that these exercises will get easier as NaNo goes further along. No, really, that's a guarantee. If you can master the beginning hurdles, it'll be a breeze later on.
P.S. I know that the bit I had up there was kind of hackneyed and terrible, but I did my best to incorporate elements of the first two movies and give it a more faithful vibe. Working with established characters is hard as hell, and something that I'll cover more in-depth as the month progresses.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
October 8, 2006
I'm not sure what's going on anymore. I thought that keeping a diary would help make things easier. That's what Dan and I decided when we first moved in here. I've been trying so hard not to go through his things, but I feel like we're just drifting so far apart. I feel like there are things that I keep forgetting. Important things. Dan says that it's alright, though. He has to be right. I mean nothing has happened in the house for weeks. But it still feels so wrong. Why do I feel guilty? I wish I could just stop feeling like this.
I think I'm losing my mind, though. Is this what Mom felt like those last few weeks? I can't help remembering the night that she lost it completely. Katie and I were asleep in our room, and Katie woke up, screaming like something was hurting her. Mom ran up the stairs, her eyes wild and angry. God, I don't think that I'll ever forget that face. She had a candle in her hand, and she just looked at Katie for a second, and was calm again. Not a normal kind of calm, though. Like the kind of calm you get in the middle of a hurricane, when nothing is moving but you know it's about to all go to hell. Then, she just walked up to the edge of Katie's bed and held the candle next to her comforter and waited for the flame to catch. They both just stood there, watching the fire try to swallow up the bed for the longest time. I swear, it must have been hours. That's what it felt like. And then Katie just stood up and started to walk away. Mom didn't move. She just crawled under Katie's blankets and stayed there. I couldn't stop her, and I couldn't stop watching. And then, all of a sudden, I was outside. Katie doesn't remember how the fire started. It's like... It's like she just wasn't there. I guess I wasn't there for a little while, either.
But I remember that sick feeling I got in my stomach whenever I thought about Mom during those few weeks. The weeks before she burned herself alive. Before the whole house went up. I get that feeling now whenever I think of Katie. Like something awful is about to happen and I won't be able to stop it. It's weird, you know? The police never found any evidence of arson, but that's what it was. We never talked about it. All Katie remembers is that Mom was acting weird, shutting herself up in her bedroom for days at a time, banging on the walls like some kind of animal. Who's going to remember this time, though? Is anyone going to be there for her if she goes off the deep end? I hope there's someone. It just wouldn't be fair otherwise. Dan says I need to get more sleep. I keep getting these headaches. Maybe he's right. Still, I feel like I should give Katie a call tomorrow, just to make sure she's okay.
And why do I still feel guilty?]
So, there you have it. That was just a quick little writing exercise. One day of work on it, to try and make a point: Just because something works once, doesn't mean that you need to push your luck by running the same gimmick for three films. I would've preferred if the entirety of Paranormal Activity 2 had been told via a viral website that gave insight into the journals of Dan and Kristi. Why? Because it would have been fresh. It would have been new, and the final page could have linked to a police report or newspaper article that sums up the events after the end of the movie. But maybe that's just me.
But moving on now. Some of you may know about National Novel Writing Month (NaNo or NaNoWriMo for short), and some of you may also be participants this year. If not, we're only two days in, so it's not terribly late to register. All you need are a couple of extra cups of coffee and you'll be plenty caught up. As for me, I'll be writing a collection of short stories entitled "Cigarettes and Suffragettes" to challenge myself. I want to try and work on some more plot-centric pieces, because I've come to rely on complex characters as a crutch. I'd like to invite any of my readers to join me in this writing exercise and leave your result as a comment or link in the comments. I'll read and leave feedback, and I'll also be posting my own result by Friday at the latest. Here goes:
NaNo Exercise #1
Write a story in an epistolary format. Either take the perspective of the character through journal entries (like the truncated version I did above) or give the whole story as a series of newspaper pieces and the like. It's a little complicated, but when done well, this type of story can be very powerful and really do quite a lot to aid suspension of disbelief. So please, try it out and aim for an absolute minimum of 500 words. That's an afternoon or so of writing, tops. Let's charge into the thick of NaNo, folks!
Also, I promise that these exercises will get easier as NaNo goes further along. No, really, that's a guarantee. If you can master the beginning hurdles, it'll be a breeze later on.
P.S. I know that the bit I had up there was kind of hackneyed and terrible, but I did my best to incorporate elements of the first two movies and give it a more faithful vibe. Working with established characters is hard as hell, and something that I'll cover more in-depth as the month progresses.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
I Accept My Challenge
I think someone needs to make this point absolutely clear. And I mean impossibly, beyond-the-shadow-of-a-doubt obvious. Modern horror is forgetting what it's supposed to do. Last night, after watching the particularly miserable Paranormal Activity 3, I couldn't help but feel that we could all use a little reminder about what makes a movie genuinely scary. Having something pop up on the screen and go "boo!" is not scary. Let's get this out of the way first. You want to know what made the first Paranormal Activity watchable? It lacked pretension, not pretense. Here's my brief summary of the film: Couple moves into house, strange things happen at a pretty acceptable pace, spurned on by organic and believable actions, and the ending is a pretty satisfying shot. Sure it doesn't have much to offer if you try to watch it a second time, but that's the curse of "found footage" movies.
See? I'm not a terrible person. I appreciate Paranormal Activity because it is simple, it keeps a good bit of tension running throughout, and it keeps an air of mystery around the cause of the haunting. And truth be told, the most genuinely scary moments are the ones where the action happens off-screen. The Ouija Board bit was tacky and stretched my suspension of disbelief a little far, but the rest of the movie kind of made up for that. Now, let's move forward, powering through the sequel. Paranormal Activity 2. You want to know what happens? No spoilers, I promise. Okay: Nothing at all. And then there's a kitchen scene that would have made the movie worth it if I hadn't tuned out and started thinking about my perfect breakfast sandwich an hour earlier. We won't even discuss the plot holes here, because that's a whole other ball of wax.
Which brings me to Paranormal Activity 3, the culmination of the fail. I'll admit, I was pretty excited to watch it, so as I curled up in my theater chair with a bowl of popcorn, I expected to see something similar to the original film. Apparently, I have subtle brain damage, because I hoped that the "finale" would show the same kind of enthusiasm present in the original. Boy, was I wrong. Synopsis away: Nothing happens. Then a couple of neat visual magic tricks happen. Then, the most insulting fifteen minutes of film you can find (outside of Splice) start to unfold before your eyes. At this point, you should ask for your money back. And no, I'm not just saying this because I'm bitter, or because I genuinely want my money back. Some of you might say that I'm just writing this because I wish I made as much money as the creators of the Paranormal Activity Trilogy (which is most likely going to get another sequel) and you wouldn't be entirely wrong. Who wouldn't want that kind of money? But I know what some people might say next: "Well, if you can do better, why don't you?" And that's why I'm writing this column. Consider this a preface to a short story that will take an alternate approach to the clusterfuck that is Paranormal Activity's lore. My next entry will be my version of the events of the last two movies, written out in a narrative fashion that will serve as a spiritual successor and partial brain-bleach for those among you who wish to unsee (in some part) Paranormal Activity 2 and 3. Look for it soon.
/rant
This is Rosenbloom,signing off.
See? I'm not a terrible person. I appreciate Paranormal Activity because it is simple, it keeps a good bit of tension running throughout, and it keeps an air of mystery around the cause of the haunting. And truth be told, the most genuinely scary moments are the ones where the action happens off-screen. The Ouija Board bit was tacky and stretched my suspension of disbelief a little far, but the rest of the movie kind of made up for that. Now, let's move forward, powering through the sequel. Paranormal Activity 2. You want to know what happens? No spoilers, I promise. Okay: Nothing at all. And then there's a kitchen scene that would have made the movie worth it if I hadn't tuned out and started thinking about my perfect breakfast sandwich an hour earlier. We won't even discuss the plot holes here, because that's a whole other ball of wax.
Which brings me to Paranormal Activity 3, the culmination of the fail. I'll admit, I was pretty excited to watch it, so as I curled up in my theater chair with a bowl of popcorn, I expected to see something similar to the original film. Apparently, I have subtle brain damage, because I hoped that the "finale" would show the same kind of enthusiasm present in the original. Boy, was I wrong. Synopsis away: Nothing happens. Then a couple of neat visual magic tricks happen. Then, the most insulting fifteen minutes of film you can find (outside of Splice) start to unfold before your eyes. At this point, you should ask for your money back. And no, I'm not just saying this because I'm bitter, or because I genuinely want my money back. Some of you might say that I'm just writing this because I wish I made as much money as the creators of the Paranormal Activity Trilogy (which is most likely going to get another sequel) and you wouldn't be entirely wrong. Who wouldn't want that kind of money? But I know what some people might say next: "Well, if you can do better, why don't you?" And that's why I'm writing this column. Consider this a preface to a short story that will take an alternate approach to the clusterfuck that is Paranormal Activity's lore. My next entry will be my version of the events of the last two movies, written out in a narrative fashion that will serve as a spiritual successor and partial brain-bleach for those among you who wish to unsee (in some part) Paranormal Activity 2 and 3. Look for it soon.
/rant
This is Rosenbloom,signing off.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Seven Reasons I Love Halloween
Yes, it only comes once a year, and whether you want to spend the day trying to be spooky, slutty, or snarky, Halloween is great. I don't do the whole costume thing, I don't give out candy to trick-or-treaters, and I rarely get invited to the fun halloween parties. But that doesn't really matter to me. No, as a writer, Halloween has a special kind of draw for me and I'll take a bit of time (while freezing my ass off at a crappy motel) to type down the reasons.
1. The Atmosphere
Crisp fall air (snow this year), people laughing and showing off the threads that they'll only rock for one day, and the smell of pumpkin everything wafting through the air. It's just a fantastic day, and it's not hyped up for six months, nor does it overstay its welcome. (Yes, Christmas, I am looking right at you.)
2. The Stories
Oh, Hell yes. That's the only way to properly express the kinds of stories that come out on Halloween. A friend of mine was at a party a few years ago that wound up getting busted by the cops and they wound up taking his name down as the goddamned Joker. In the police report. And that's just one of the stories that actually happened. The best Halloween tales are the ghost stories that seem to crop up, fueling fever-dreams of haunted houses and restless spirits out for revenge. Urban legends come to life in a big way on Halloween night, and to hear the unique spin that some people put on them is nothing short of pure gold for a writer.
3. The Costumes
Like I said, I don't do the costume thing. The best you'll get out of me (on a good year) is a bathrobe and a towel while I loudly proclaim that I am Arthur Dent. And then I cry silently to myself when I realize most people don't read the Hitchhiker's Guide these days and have no clue what I'm talking about. (This year I'm going to put on a jumper and claim I'm John Watson from the new Sherlock series. Despite the fact that I look nothing like Martin Freeman, I am apparently forever doomed to choose him as my Halloween costume. Maybe next year I'll get fake teeth and go as his character from Wild Target.) Anyway, the point is, a lot of other people put a considerable amount of effort into their costumes, and the results are (pretty often) amazing.
4. The Candy
Yes, I am a grown adult male. No, that does not stop me from hoarding and devouring candy like a twelve-year-old every year on Halloween despite the fact that I don't go out trick-or-treating. Especially Reese's cups. I will devour those delicious bastards by the freaking POUND. And Halloween is the perfect excuse to do so.
5. The Parties
As mentioned earlier, I don't often get invited to parties on Halloween. Maybe it's because I don't have any fun costumes, maybe it's because I get a little too drunk every year and make a complete ass out of myself. The reason doesn't matter, because I still love to crash them, and I will continue to do so gleefully for the next several years.
6. Spoilsports
You know what a hard holiday to ruin is? Halloween. You know why? Because if you try to remind someone that Halloween is a corporate-fascist-evil-dictator-hullabaloo-ball-of-crap, you will be pleasantly remind to shut the hell up and take a shot. Who could possibly argue with that logic? I mean, Christmas can easily collapse into this debate, some people are really thin-skinned about the Zombie-Jesus jokes on Easter, but on Halloween you can actually DRESS as aforementioned Zombie-Jesus or Zombie-Santa, or even Zombie-Marie Curie. And NO ONE WILL CARE. BECAUSE IT IS HALLOWEEN. SO TAKE A SHOT. AND SHUT THE HELL UP.
7. Pumpkin
I cannot possibly stress my love for pumpkin enough. Jack-o-Lanterns, Pumpkin Coffee, Pumpkin Cheesecake, Pumpkin Pie... It never ends, and it is delicious. Pumpkin is the official smell of Halloween. In fact, I have my own theory that someone, somewhere, wherever holidays are codified, sat up one day and shouted "I think the world needs more pumpkins!" and to a rousing cry of "Hell yes!" Halloween was born, initially under the name "Pumpkin-time" but was later changed to get little kids to leave the house so adults could enjoy their pumpkin beer and scare the living crap out of them.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
1. The Atmosphere
Crisp fall air (snow this year), people laughing and showing off the threads that they'll only rock for one day, and the smell of pumpkin everything wafting through the air. It's just a fantastic day, and it's not hyped up for six months, nor does it overstay its welcome. (Yes, Christmas, I am looking right at you.)
2. The Stories
Oh, Hell yes. That's the only way to properly express the kinds of stories that come out on Halloween. A friend of mine was at a party a few years ago that wound up getting busted by the cops and they wound up taking his name down as the goddamned Joker. In the police report. And that's just one of the stories that actually happened. The best Halloween tales are the ghost stories that seem to crop up, fueling fever-dreams of haunted houses and restless spirits out for revenge. Urban legends come to life in a big way on Halloween night, and to hear the unique spin that some people put on them is nothing short of pure gold for a writer.
3. The Costumes
Like I said, I don't do the costume thing. The best you'll get out of me (on a good year) is a bathrobe and a towel while I loudly proclaim that I am Arthur Dent. And then I cry silently to myself when I realize most people don't read the Hitchhiker's Guide these days and have no clue what I'm talking about. (This year I'm going to put on a jumper and claim I'm John Watson from the new Sherlock series. Despite the fact that I look nothing like Martin Freeman, I am apparently forever doomed to choose him as my Halloween costume. Maybe next year I'll get fake teeth and go as his character from Wild Target.) Anyway, the point is, a lot of other people put a considerable amount of effort into their costumes, and the results are (pretty often) amazing.
4. The Candy
Yes, I am a grown adult male. No, that does not stop me from hoarding and devouring candy like a twelve-year-old every year on Halloween despite the fact that I don't go out trick-or-treating. Especially Reese's cups. I will devour those delicious bastards by the freaking POUND. And Halloween is the perfect excuse to do so.
5. The Parties
As mentioned earlier, I don't often get invited to parties on Halloween. Maybe it's because I don't have any fun costumes, maybe it's because I get a little too drunk every year and make a complete ass out of myself. The reason doesn't matter, because I still love to crash them, and I will continue to do so gleefully for the next several years.
6. Spoilsports
You know what a hard holiday to ruin is? Halloween. You know why? Because if you try to remind someone that Halloween is a corporate-fascist-evil-dictator-hullabaloo-ball-of-crap, you will be pleasantly remind to shut the hell up and take a shot. Who could possibly argue with that logic? I mean, Christmas can easily collapse into this debate, some people are really thin-skinned about the Zombie-Jesus jokes on Easter, but on Halloween you can actually DRESS as aforementioned Zombie-Jesus or Zombie-Santa, or even Zombie-Marie Curie. And NO ONE WILL CARE. BECAUSE IT IS HALLOWEEN. SO TAKE A SHOT. AND SHUT THE HELL UP.
7. Pumpkin
I cannot possibly stress my love for pumpkin enough. Jack-o-Lanterns, Pumpkin Coffee, Pumpkin Cheesecake, Pumpkin Pie... It never ends, and it is delicious. Pumpkin is the official smell of Halloween. In fact, I have my own theory that someone, somewhere, wherever holidays are codified, sat up one day and shouted "I think the world needs more pumpkins!" and to a rousing cry of "Hell yes!" Halloween was born, initially under the name "Pumpkin-time" but was later changed to get little kids to leave the house so adults could enjoy their pumpkin beer and scare the living crap out of them.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Slow Burn
So, from my (limited) experience in writing, I have come to decide something: the biggest pain in the ass ever is waiting for cover art. I've had the second act of the Chainsmoker's Trilogy done and prettied up for a while now, but the reason you're not currently holding a nice paperback copy of it is this: Goddamn Cover Art. It's a lame excuse, but it's the truth. Hopefully I can get that all sorted out in the next few weeks, though.
Well, I don't have much else in the way of updates for you, so I'll leave you with another hint about my super-secret mystery project.
It's strictly not Lovecraftian in nature.
Well, that's all, ladies and gentlemen.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
Well, I don't have much else in the way of updates for you, so I'll leave you with another hint about my super-secret mystery project.
It's strictly not Lovecraftian in nature.
Well, that's all, ladies and gentlemen.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
A Slice of Life
So, let's take this time to vent a little bit. There are a few really interesting words in the English language, and a few of these words can be used to describe people, their habits, or their status in life. Some people are amazing. Some people are boring, or dull. Some people make you walk away feeling like you desperately need a shower. Some people manage to do this in a good way. That last group is extremely rare. Some people are assholes. Not to be mean or spiteful, it's just a fact of life. Hell, I'm one of 'em. Yeah, you read that correctly. I'm an asshole. Kinda proud of it, too. Someone needs to counteract all the suger-coated PC bullshit that floats through the air these days. Here's a nice little crash course in early-asshole detection methods.
First, if someone tries to introduce themselves with any of the following words, it probably means they're a complete prick. Now, you don't necessarily need to steer clear of them, but they're probably full of themselves and will at some point in your association with them deserve a good hard slap in the face. Don't hesitate to deliver it. The words are: "savant", "genius", "adept", "hero", "martyr", "jackass", "asshole"(or any of its variants), and "extraordinaire". That last one... That one really pisses me right the fuck off. Not only is it ego masturbation, it's haughty ego masturbation. Extra. Ordin. AIRE. As if somehow peppering your speech with foreign words will make you less of an prick. As for the others... Well, the first few show an inflated ego as well, and if someone is telling you upfront that he's a prick, it's probably because he's at least an honest prick. That, and the "I told you so" dance later on is really, really worth it.
Second, look out for some key attitudes. Namely, if this guy (or girl, but I'm gonna say "guy" for the sake of convenience. My blog. My dialect. My laziness. Get used to it) tells you flat out that he's better than other people, he probably deserves that good hard slap right about now. Trust me, it's probably completely unfounded and just a way of hiding his jealousy. Or he's a self-important douchebag. That is also a possibility. Another one that I've picked up lately is the unfortunate situation in which the asshole in question is actually unaware of his doucheyness. This is evidenced by the following phrase: "I just want to save people." There's a translation available. I'm fluent in both Asshole and English, so here it goes: "I will probably fuck up your life. Intentionally or not. But I'll give the excuse that I'm helping someone. Whether they want me to or not. 'Cause that's how Jesus worked, right? And I'm just so FUCKING JESUS-EY." Also, music choice. Panic! At the Disco, for example, is a hallmark of male child molesters, emo kids, and douchebags. Avoid these people at most costs. I say "most" because there are exceptions to the music rule. The Jesus Syndrome, though? FUCK THAT. Run. Run far the fuck away. Because this asshole will tear up everything in his path trying to "save" one person. Kind of like a slightly dumber version of the Incredible Hulk. If he had all of the emotional depth of the Joker.
Third, if you happen to find yourself in the company of an asshole, do not try and play along with him. This will only serve to infect you with the Asshole Virus, and before you know it, you're a miserable prick, too. No one wants this. Instead, don't laugh at his jokes out of kindness. Laugh if they're funny. You don't owe this guy anything. Don't act like it, or you'll basically be applying a bicycle pump to his ego. Not a good thing. Warn him when he's getting close to crossing the line. Who knows? This might even help to quell his dickish behavior.
Fourth, don't take my advice too seriously. After all, I'm kind of a self-satisfied prick. Not to the point where I would describe myself as a "writer extraordinaire" or anything. That would be silly. I'm a casual writer, and every once in a while, people enjoy my books. And my rants. Then again, some people are crazy... So there's that...
First, if someone tries to introduce themselves with any of the following words, it probably means they're a complete prick. Now, you don't necessarily need to steer clear of them, but they're probably full of themselves and will at some point in your association with them deserve a good hard slap in the face. Don't hesitate to deliver it. The words are: "savant", "genius", "adept", "hero", "martyr", "jackass", "asshole"(or any of its variants), and "extraordinaire". That last one... That one really pisses me right the fuck off. Not only is it ego masturbation, it's haughty ego masturbation. Extra. Ordin. AIRE. As if somehow peppering your speech with foreign words will make you less of an prick. As for the others... Well, the first few show an inflated ego as well, and if someone is telling you upfront that he's a prick, it's probably because he's at least an honest prick. That, and the "I told you so" dance later on is really, really worth it.
Second, look out for some key attitudes. Namely, if this guy (or girl, but I'm gonna say "guy" for the sake of convenience. My blog. My dialect. My laziness. Get used to it) tells you flat out that he's better than other people, he probably deserves that good hard slap right about now. Trust me, it's probably completely unfounded and just a way of hiding his jealousy. Or he's a self-important douchebag. That is also a possibility. Another one that I've picked up lately is the unfortunate situation in which the asshole in question is actually unaware of his doucheyness. This is evidenced by the following phrase: "I just want to save people." There's a translation available. I'm fluent in both Asshole and English, so here it goes: "I will probably fuck up your life. Intentionally or not. But I'll give the excuse that I'm helping someone. Whether they want me to or not. 'Cause that's how Jesus worked, right? And I'm just so FUCKING JESUS-EY." Also, music choice. Panic! At the Disco, for example, is a hallmark of male child molesters, emo kids, and douchebags. Avoid these people at most costs. I say "most" because there are exceptions to the music rule. The Jesus Syndrome, though? FUCK THAT. Run. Run far the fuck away. Because this asshole will tear up everything in his path trying to "save" one person. Kind of like a slightly dumber version of the Incredible Hulk. If he had all of the emotional depth of the Joker.
Third, if you happen to find yourself in the company of an asshole, do not try and play along with him. This will only serve to infect you with the Asshole Virus, and before you know it, you're a miserable prick, too. No one wants this. Instead, don't laugh at his jokes out of kindness. Laugh if they're funny. You don't owe this guy anything. Don't act like it, or you'll basically be applying a bicycle pump to his ego. Not a good thing. Warn him when he's getting close to crossing the line. Who knows? This might even help to quell his dickish behavior.
Fourth, don't take my advice too seriously. After all, I'm kind of a self-satisfied prick. Not to the point where I would describe myself as a "writer extraordinaire" or anything. That would be silly. I'm a casual writer, and every once in a while, people enjoy my books. And my rants. Then again, some people are crazy... So there's that...
Monday, April 4, 2011
So, there's been a hitch...
Never the most pleasant thing to hear, is it? "There's been a hitch" can mean one of two things: "You're fucked" or "You're REALLY fucked" and there are very few situations where either one of those phrases can be strung up in a classy manner. So here's the lowdown: we're hitting a slight snag in the release of The Forgotten what with the cover art taking a significantly larger amount of time to put together than was initially expected. The Funeral of Reason is in a similar situation. In the meantime, I'm still working. My secret project of course has a new hint for all of you to chew on. Here it goes:
The creature this book focuses on isn't indigenous to any one particular area. It exists by many different names, and its origins have been, and likely will always remain a mystery.
So there's that. In other news, I'll probably be doing ScriptFrenzy this year, using my debut novel as my template. Anyone up for filming a few scenes over the summer?
All I've got for now.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
The creature this book focuses on isn't indigenous to any one particular area. It exists by many different names, and its origins have been, and likely will always remain a mystery.
So there's that. In other news, I'll probably be doing ScriptFrenzy this year, using my debut novel as my template. Anyone up for filming a few scenes over the summer?
All I've got for now.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Where do we go from here?
The second act of the Chainsmoker's Trilogy, The Forgotten, is completed and awaiting publication. So now I'll let you in on some clues as to my next project. The Reclaimed will be the title of the third book in the trilogy, but that's not what I'm here to talk about.
As some of you may know, horror is a bit of a pet genre for me, something that gives me great joy to read and something that I aspire to write. And that is why, ladies and gentlemen, I am embarking on an epic quest. A foray into modern terror. It would be a waste to spoil the whole thing right here, but I will tell you this much: God, do I love urban legends. They have a certain mystique to them, like the common threads that bind mythologies together, and no matter where you go there is some variation on a familiar legend. And this one... It's going to send you for a spin. That's what I'm hoping, anyway.
So here's a question for my readers. One that might clue you in as to my next endeavor. What's nine feet tall, made of pure terror, and can't be slowed, stopped, or killed?
Chew on that for a little while.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
As some of you may know, horror is a bit of a pet genre for me, something that gives me great joy to read and something that I aspire to write. And that is why, ladies and gentlemen, I am embarking on an epic quest. A foray into modern terror. It would be a waste to spoil the whole thing right here, but I will tell you this much: God, do I love urban legends. They have a certain mystique to them, like the common threads that bind mythologies together, and no matter where you go there is some variation on a familiar legend. And this one... It's going to send you for a spin. That's what I'm hoping, anyway.
So here's a question for my readers. One that might clue you in as to my next endeavor. What's nine feet tall, made of pure terror, and can't be slowed, stopped, or killed?
Chew on that for a little while.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Attention, Ladies and Gentlemen
There will be two of my projects hitting the internet stores (primarily Amazon) very shortly. First up we have the delicious and short collection of poems entitled "The Funeral of Reason" which consists of a scant fifty-something-odd pages of yours truly waxing poetic about life, love, loss, religion, and blah-dee-blah. On the other end of the spectrum, after none too long of a wait, yes, it is arriving... The Forgotten: Act Two of the Chainsmoker's Trilogy. March 2011. On Amazon. Order it and support this independent author.
As for updates on my latest projects, Bliss has hit an unfortunate snag and may well be sinking. I apologize to those among you who managed to get hyped up by my brief descriptions of it on this blog and in casual conversation. However, the extra time means that I should be able to have The Reclaimed finished by the time summer rolls around. Does this mean that you'll be able to read the entire Chainsmoker's Trilogy in one year? The short answer: no. I love you all dearly, and it's a slim possibility, but I think I might shelf The Reclaimed once I finish it and publish it around Christmas next year. After all, it'd be like I'm spoiling you if I pump out an entire trilogy in six months, wouldn't it? But enough about that depressing business. Your hope for getting The Reclaimed published revolves around my work on a project called The Devil in the Pines, a retelling of the wonderful legend of the Jersey Devil. See, if it's looking like I need to actually spend a week or two in the Pine Barrens to get a feel for my setting, then you're in luck, and you'll get to see the thrilling conclusion to the tale of Jack and Amy before the end of the summer.
Thanks for reading, ladies and gentlemen.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
As for updates on my latest projects, Bliss has hit an unfortunate snag and may well be sinking. I apologize to those among you who managed to get hyped up by my brief descriptions of it on this blog and in casual conversation. However, the extra time means that I should be able to have The Reclaimed finished by the time summer rolls around. Does this mean that you'll be able to read the entire Chainsmoker's Trilogy in one year? The short answer: no. I love you all dearly, and it's a slim possibility, but I think I might shelf The Reclaimed once I finish it and publish it around Christmas next year. After all, it'd be like I'm spoiling you if I pump out an entire trilogy in six months, wouldn't it? But enough about that depressing business. Your hope for getting The Reclaimed published revolves around my work on a project called The Devil in the Pines, a retelling of the wonderful legend of the Jersey Devil. See, if it's looking like I need to actually spend a week or two in the Pine Barrens to get a feel for my setting, then you're in luck, and you'll get to see the thrilling conclusion to the tale of Jack and Amy before the end of the summer.
Thanks for reading, ladies and gentlemen.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Mike and Danielle, the Catalysts of Chaos
Chaos is one of the driving themes of The Graceless. The chaos of life, of death, and of change are all represented in the characters of Mike and Danielle. I'm pleased to say that they will both be making a comeback in The Forgotten, though one will carry more weight with his or her appearance than the other, their work as agents of change is far from over. For those of you who have yet to read The Graceless, I'll spare the spoilers, but say this: In the world of the Chainsmoker's Trilogy, very little is exactly what it seems.
Danielle, for example, brings with her everywhere she goes, the promise of change, but almost always through violent upheaval. It's not really her fault, and she's rarely aware of it, but serendipity disguised as misfortune seems to be a great friend of hers. Mike on the other hand... Well... He's much more complicated than some of my readers have given him credit for. I sometimes wonder how the story would have gone without the presence of either of these characters, and then I realize it would never have been the same without them. They're essential to The Graceless, and one of them is equally important in the pages of The Forgotten, if not more so.
At any rate, the novel is coming along quite nicely, and it is looking as though The Forgotten will meet its Spring 2011 deadline. I'll be sure to keep everyone posted as the story goes on, without ruining any of the details. After all, it's no fun if I suddenly reveal that Jack was an alien, Ryan is a werewolf, and Amy can summon up columns of fire with her mind. Because she's a wizard.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
Danielle, for example, brings with her everywhere she goes, the promise of change, but almost always through violent upheaval. It's not really her fault, and she's rarely aware of it, but serendipity disguised as misfortune seems to be a great friend of hers. Mike on the other hand... Well... He's much more complicated than some of my readers have given him credit for. I sometimes wonder how the story would have gone without the presence of either of these characters, and then I realize it would never have been the same without them. They're essential to The Graceless, and one of them is equally important in the pages of The Forgotten, if not more so.
At any rate, the novel is coming along quite nicely, and it is looking as though The Forgotten will meet its Spring 2011 deadline. I'll be sure to keep everyone posted as the story goes on, without ruining any of the details. After all, it's no fun if I suddenly reveal that Jack was an alien, Ryan is a werewolf, and Amy can summon up columns of fire with her mind. Because she's a wizard.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Regarding Amy O'Hallen
Amy... Oh, Amy. Some have described her as "all that is woman" others have described her as "Danielle Version 0.5" but at her core, Amy O'Hallen is just that. Amy. Probably the character in the whole of The Graceless who I feel legitimately bad for when I think back on her story arc. She finally finds the strength that Jack wanted her to the whole time, but in the end, what good does it really do her? I suppose that's up to the reader, though. This is my love letter to Amy, though. The end-all, be-all to the character. A eulogy for a character I'm not quite ready to retire.
Amelia Claire O'Hallen, some may be pleased to hear, will be making an appearance in Act Two of the Chainsmoker's Trilogy, The Forgotten. I really have grown to love this character and all that she represents over time. Initially, she was a cardboard cutout, I'll admit to that, but as the story grew, so did she, and in ways I had never expected. Amy became a bastion of hope in a world where merely losing faith is considered a stroke of good fortune. She turned from a scared, confused girl to a powerful warrior woman, vulnerable only to Jack, an archetypal villain fallen from grace.
Her presence in The Forgotten will be brief, but I can promise this: The book would simply be incomplete without her addition to the novel. That's all I can really reveal about her appearance, as the project is still very much under wraps, but it will be worth the wait.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
Amelia Claire O'Hallen, some may be pleased to hear, will be making an appearance in Act Two of the Chainsmoker's Trilogy, The Forgotten. I really have grown to love this character and all that she represents over time. Initially, she was a cardboard cutout, I'll admit to that, but as the story grew, so did she, and in ways I had never expected. Amy became a bastion of hope in a world where merely losing faith is considered a stroke of good fortune. She turned from a scared, confused girl to a powerful warrior woman, vulnerable only to Jack, an archetypal villain fallen from grace.
Her presence in The Forgotten will be brief, but I can promise this: The book would simply be incomplete without her addition to the novel. That's all I can really reveal about her appearance, as the project is still very much under wraps, but it will be worth the wait.
This is Rosenbloom, signing off.
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