Angry Penguins and Drunken Monkeys

The Yellow Rose is Coming!

2012-02-02T14:11:00.000-08:00

That's right. Tales from The Yellow Rose Diner and Fill Station is in and shipping. If you pre-ordered a copy, you should have received an e-mail letting you know to pay. If you didn't pre-order, well, you're going to have to find a place that ordered more than one copy and has it for sale...

...Like this place.

The Transformational Power of the Bathroom in Pulp Fiction

2012-01-29T17:35:00.000-08:00

Okay, so this isn't a review. But it is an observation. I've been catching Pulp Fiction a lot lately on cable at night while trying to keep the twins from losing their shit. I've seen it a ton already. I love this movie. So I don't mind picking it up in any act while bottle feeding or rocking or begging for peace and quiet.

That being said, I picked up on something recently I've never picked up on before. The transformational power of bathrooms in this movie.

Hear me out.

It seems every turn in this movie hinges on a bathroom visit or bathroom visitor or something. There's some form of potty and humor or what have you involved in every major act.

Don't believe me?

Follow me down the rabbit hole.

First there is the scene in the first act with John Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson executing the dude who thought Marcellus Wallace was a bitch. While they're shooting, there's a dude holed up in...the bathroom with what looks like a .44 Magnum. Now we don't learn this until the final act but it's part of that same scene if taken sequentially. What happens? He busts out and shoots and totally misses both of them. Get's filled with lead. And then it happens. Sam has a conversion. He feels likes he been touched by God because it's a miracle he's alive. Travolta, not so much. Which will seal his doom later.

So, Sam is transformed after surviving the bathroom hit, so to speak.

Later, Travolta takes Uma Thurman out for dinner. During that dinner, she goes to the bathroom and snorts some coke and gets all hyper and wants to win the twist contest. This is important for two reasons: one, it foreshadows her later overdose on heroin because she snorts a ton, thinking it's coke. Second, it sets up the friskiness between her and Travolta which ulitmately leads to...

Her house and Travolta excusing himself to the bathroom where he talks to himself in the mirror, convincing himself it is not a good idea to sleep with the boss's wife. Meanwhile, Uma's in the living room O.D.ing on his heroin. Two bathroom visits that ultimately transform both characters.

We move on to the middle portion with Bruce Willis. It starts with him as a kid being told the story of his father and his father's father and their gold watch. Basically, it boils down to it surviving war, in of all places, hidden up somebody's ass. His dad dies of dysentery. So, all potty related in a broad way but still, potty related.

Later, Bruce and Marcellus end up in the basement of the pawn shop. Marcellus ends up getting raped by two rednecks (something hidden up his ass). Not necessarily potty related but ass related and tying into the watch up the ass early in the act.

But that's trivial compared to Travolta's demise. Again, he's in the bathroom. This time at Bruce's place. Bruce comes by to get his watch. Travolta is waiting to ambush him but needs a shit break. While he's on the throne, Bruce comes home, finds the Travolta's gun, and blasts him as he's coming out of...the bathroom.

You'd think that was it. Especially for Travolta. But no. He's influenced by two more bathroom scenes.

There's the bathroom scene where he's cleaning blood off his hands at Tarantino's house. Which leads to a blow up with Sam and directly influences how he deals with Harvey Keitel later. Then there's the diner. He's arguing with Sam, who wants to quit the life over surviving the shoot-out earlier. Travolta disagrees. He thinks it was a freak occurrence. Sam won't listen. To which Travolta says he needs to "Take a shit. To be continued." After he heads for the bathroom, the robbery starts. The robbery which ultimately changes the lives of Sam, Ringo, and Yolanda. Travolta comes out near the end and is only back-up. If he hadn't been in the bathroom at the beginning, shit would probably have gone down differently.

So, why am I pointing this all out? Fuck, I don't know. I just thought it was interesting that every major plot point in the movie seems to hinge on taking a piss or shit. Weird when you boil it down that way.

Where I Tell You How You Can Help Support This Author

2012-01-25T12:38:00.000-08:00

By buying his work, of course. But that's obvious. No, instead I want to take a moment and talk about that Amazon banner right above. And the Amazon Scroll-Motion Widgets on the side there.

Now I know some of you think Amazon is evil. Think it's a big bad corporation who wants to take over the world and destroy all small mom and pop places and force everyone to buy stuff from them. Got it. I disagree but hey, we can do that and still get along.

If you are like me, though, you probably use Amazon a lot. Why? Cuz they got shit I can't get anywhere else. Like books. Yeah, that's right. I stopped buying from local bookstores for the most part years ago because they didn't have the books I was looking for. Same thing with movies. Best Buy? Sometimes. Amazon? All the time.

Isn't that great? A reliable place you can actually get the stuff you want.
So, Amazon has been good to me as a consumer. It's also been awesome to me as a writer. You already know about e-books and their royalties and Kindle and self-pubbing and all that. If you don't, Google it.

Point is, Amazon has done well by me. And the love doesn't stop there. If you do their Associates program and put these little widgets on your page or a banner or link and someone clicks on it and goes to Amazon and buys something well, I get a cut.

I mean, you were going to buy something from Amazon anyway. Doesn't even have to be my stuff. But because you got to the site by clicking on a link from this here website you're on and reading this right now, and because you then went on to purchase anything from a heater to early European T & A films, well, I get a slice.

This is great for writers for obvious reasons. We tend not to make much money in the first place. It allows us to link to our work available on Amazon (See Scroll Motions on the left). And it gives us a little extra income from those who want to see us keep the writing habit going.

So, if you want to show some love and you want to buy something on Amazon, remember to stop here first. Click on that banner right there at the top. You'll get your product. I'll get a few cents. Everyone's happy.

And if you want to show love by buying something I wrote, see again those Scroll Motions right there on the side. E-books. Regular books. Come one, come all.

What You Should Order Right Now

2012-01-19T08:29:00.000-08:00

Because it's good. It's really fucking good. But I'm not going to tell you why. I'll let Sam W. Anderson do that for me. Check out his blog post on this one.

And if you want a copy, go here where multiple formats are clickable.

Yeah, It's Almost Fourteen-Years-Old but Out of Sight Still Rocks

2012-01-12T12:18:00.000-08:00

Bet you thought I was going to start with a shitty movie, right? Sorry. But I felt starting with a movie that’s actually really damn good would help illustrate what makes a movie work before turning to a movie that clunks along before slamming into an excrement wall and exploding on impact.

Why Out of Sight? Why not?

I mean it a good flick. One not many people dislike. Those I know who didn’t love it at first have tended to come around with repeat viewings. Why? It’s a movie that requires repeat viewings, pure and simple. You don’t get everything the first time. You don’t appreciate the cuts, the flashbacks, the different yet essentially perfect characters, the style, in the first viewing. Instead, you feel let down.

What? Let down?

Yep and here’s why: this is a subtle movie. There’s no big shootouts. There’s no big fight scenes. There’s not a ton of violence. And…it’s a love story.

Now if you went in expecting something like Pulp Fiction, you didn’t get it. And much like Jackie Brown, people were disappointed (interesting that both are based on Elmore Leonard books and both came out close together and both earned the same initial reputation). Until they watch it again with the benefit of time and reflection. Once you separate this movie and JB, you realize, “Yeah, this isn’t PULP but it’s really fucking good.”

Let's dig in.

The Story and Plot

As discussed yesterday, there’s a difference between story and plot. Jack Foley (George Clooney) is a bank robber who escapes from prison. His goal on the outside: heist some uncut diamonds and retire. Problem is he falls for a hot federal agent (Jennifer Lopez) who just happens to fall for him, too. At the same time, she’s hunting him to put him back in the slammer. So the story is really about two people from opposite sides of the law who fall in love with each other but can’t be together.

The plot? All the stuff that happens that allows them to both fall in love and keep them apart, including the climactic heist. The story isn’t the heist. The heist is a MacGuffin. The thing everyone’s after. The story is Foley and Sisco getting the hots for each other and realizing it can’t happen for them in any normal way because of the lives they chose.

Yet at the same time, they would never have met the way they did if not for the lives they chose. So in a way, it could have never been. All they have are their few times together. He will always run. She will always chase. Because that’s the only way it can be. And that’s the way both want it. The only other choice is being completely apart. No dice.

The movie does a great job of milking this. The two are only together three times throughout the film. The trunk scene (where their attraction is established), the hotel scene (where their attraction is consummated), and the end (where they both accept their roles in life and how it’s going to be).

The rest of the time, they’re talking to each other on the phone, dreaming about each other, catching glimpses of each other across a room or in a photo in the paper. They long to be together if only for a few minutes, and as a result, the audience wants to see them together. We become more interested in their story than the heist, which is the way it’s supposed to be. The movie is story driven vice plot driven. Good stuff.

The Characters

The great thing about Elmore Leonard is you know you’re always going to get great characters.

Jack Foley - the cool bank robber that doesn’t use a gun. He talks people into giving him bank money (one of the best bank robbery scenes ever and not one shot fired followed by the worst getaway).

Karen Sisco – the tough federal agent that kicks ass and takes names. She’s a hunter. She drinks bourbon neat. She’ll shoot you in a heartbeat.

"But I'm also shy and sensitive when I need to be."

Buddy Bragg (Ving Rhames) – Foley’s partner that feels guilty for every bad thing he does. So much so he calls his sister and confesses to her every time he does something bad. But he screwed up one time and confessed before the crime, which ends up landing him and Foley in jail.

Snoopy Miller (Don Cheadle) – the boxer with huge potential that has surrendered his talent to take dives and make money. The boxer turned gangster who wants nothing but to make a reputation for himself. Well that and those diamonds.

Richard Ripley (Albert Brooks) – the rich guy with the diamonds and a bad hair piece.

Glenn Michaels (Steve Zahn) - the bumbling criminal who always ends up in over his head.

Now these are the main characters. There is a bunch more. All unique and interesting and all have something to do. None of them are just there to serve as plot movers. There to just dump information. They all add something, even if it’s something small, to the movie that makes it richer.

Take for example White Boy Bob. White Boy Bob is nothing more than muscle working for Snoopy. Easily forgettable in most movies. But in this one, they develop his small character into something interesting and memorable. I can tell you White Boy Bob is a fighter. He’s strong. He’s also a big damn klutz. And that klutziness plays a part in the climax.

Take another example: Kenneth. Kenneth is nothing more than muscle working for Snoopy. Again, easily forgettable in most movies. The kind of character that’s there and then either gets killed or rats out his boss. But here, Kenneth is developed through two scenes. We first see him and he’s wearing a big fireman jacket. That stands out. Makes him memorable right off the bat. Then we learn why. Because it helps keep blood off his clothes. More memorable. Next scene we learn he was also a boxer. And he loves dogs. But his dog just died. He also doesn’t mind sexually assaulting women. We learn this when he attempts to get a piece of Sisco. Only Sisco whips his ass. But it comes up again later during the heist and it ultimately leads to his downfall.

This movie not only has great characters, each character plays an important role in the overall story, even the small ones. How many movies can you name that accomplish this? Very few, I bet.

Why am I talking about this so much? Simple. Each character is set up and each character pays off.

Structure

"Because 5 Acts is the only way to go...bitch."

This movie has a fantastic design. Excellent use of flashbacks. Great intercutting of two timelines over each other (the bar/love scene). And all of it serves the overall structure.

So what’s the structure?

I argue it sticks to the Five Act one.

Act One – Beginning through the prison escape.

Act Two – The trunk scene and action right after.

Act Three – Miami

Act Four – Detroit

Act Five – Heist and Resolution

Now within that five act structure are those awesome flashbacks and inter-cutting, etc. But basically, that’s how the movie breaks down. And it works great.

Look

Put simply, the look of Out of Sight is…out of sight. Prison looks like prison. Miami looks like Miami. Detroit looks like Detroit.

What the hell does all that mean?

The colors, man. The prison scenes have this cool washed out look in one location and a richer look at another. Miami pops and screams MIAMI! The buildings, the clothes, all saturated and vibrant. Detroit yells INDUSTRIAL. Cold. Metallic. Exactly what you imagine Detroit looking like. Style, man. It’s got a ton of style.

So the style give these settings character of their own. They stand out. They’re developed. You know exactly where you’re at. And, most important, they add to the overall story.

"You agree setting is just as important as character, don't you?"

Dialogue

Come on. It’s Leonard. You know the dialogue rocks. No further discussion needed.

So, that’s what I think. You can learn a hell of a lot from this movie. How to create good memorable characters. How to use setting to improve the overall story. How to use plot to effectively tell a story. How characters talk to each other. And how to put them all together in a cohesive structure.

Or you could go watch a stupid Adam Sandler movie.

BUT, BUT, BUT….

I’m a writer and I didn’t say much at all about the trunk scene. I mean, I have to say something about the trunk scene, right?

Look, it was a great way to put two characters in a place where they could talk, provide exposition without it feeling like exposition, and not bore the viewer to tears. What else needs to be said?

Okay, it was awesome. There, you happy?

"Would I be dressed like this if I wasn't happy?"

Film Review Prep: Story vs Plot

2012-01-11T13:30:00.000-08:00

Another thing I want to address real quick as a bit of a primer for future movie reviews is the epic conflict between Story vs. Plot. Namely, what the hell is the difference?

Well, I’ll give you my definition. It’s mine so no disagreeing. Take it or leave it.

Story is Why. Whether it’s a quest, a race against time, being stuck in a haunted house. It all boils down to why it’s happening, why the characters are there, and why they need to succeed or fail

Plot is What. What happens on the quest, what happens when time runs out, what is haunting the house and what does it want. What’s happening, what the characters are doing in response, and what happens when they succeed or fail.

Here are a couple of examples:

STAR WARS

The Story – Luke Skywalker must leave his home behind (Why? Because his uncle and aunt just got their asses incinerated by the Empire) and help the Rebellion (Why? Because their opposed to the Empire of course) defeat the Empire and save the galaxy by destroying its mega weapon the Death Star. (Why? Well, I kind of just said to save the galaxy).

Yes, I know there’s more to it than that. But that’s the basic story. Boy leaves home because he has to and joins with those opposed to evil to save the galaxy. Now notice there’s no mention of becoming a Jedi and learning the ways of the Force. Although that’s there, it isn’t the central story. It’s all about destroying that motherfucking Death Star.

The Plot – What happens along the way to Luke and his brave companions as they try to destroy said motherfucking Death Star. Stuff like: Sand People, chopping arms off in cantinas, running away from the Empire, practicing with a light saber, flying through planet debris, getting caught in a tractor beam, getting stuck in a trash compactor, watching an old man get cut down by a dude in a mask and futuristic pimp suit, escaping the Death Star, shooting up some Tie Fighters, attacking the Death Star, blowing up the Death Star, getting medals.

THE PHANTOM MENACE

The Story – Anakin Skywalker must leave his home behind and help the Republic defeat the Trade Federation and keep the galaxy operating at its bureaucratic finest. You’ll argue I’m wrong but that’s really what the story was. Then more shit got piled on, including a bunch of political shit and trade shit and shit that had nothing to do with this central storyline.

The Plot – In-fucking-decipherable. Something about a blockade and a Trade Federation working for a Sith Lord to start a war but Jedis show up and learn and leave and end up on Tatooine where they meet Anakin and find out he’s got a high bacterial level in his blood that means he an AWESOME POTENTIAL JEDI. Meanwhile, the Sith wants to kill their asses but they escape and make it to home world where nothing happens. Then they go to invaded world where there’s explosions and light saber fighting. Meanwhile, Anakin discovers he’s an AWESOME pilot and blows up a giant flying donut.

It think that was the plot.

BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA

The Story - Jack Burton must help his friend rescue his girlfriend (Why? Because she was kidnapped and Jack’s truck was stolen) and get his truck back before the evil Lo-Pan can sacrifice her (Why? Because she’s a Chinese girl with green eyes) and go on to rule the world from beyond the grave (Why? Because he’s evil and Jack can’t let that happen).

The Plot – Oh, shit, where do I begin? Let’s put it this way: batshit crazy stuff happens along the way, including a Chinese gang war in an alley that gets broken up by flying dudes and Lo-Pan with light coming out of his mouth; invading Lo-Pan’s sanctuary, getting caught, and going to the Hell of Upside-down Sinners; being threatened with being sent to the Hell of Being Skinned Alive as a Symbol; kung-fu fighting; escaping, re-invasion with Egg and his Six-Demon Bag; SUPER AWESOME KUNG-FU FIGHTING; knife in skull, saving the girl, and getting Jack’s truck back.

Now that’s a Plot.

Anyway, that’s my quick take on Story vs Plot. There’s more to it than that, of course. Character motivation, conflict, all of those things that happen in the Plot that affect the character, conflict, and so forth. All feed into the story overall. But the Why, to me, is the key to breaking down the story to its simplest form. As is the What, in terms of plot.

Another way of thinking about it…

I can’t remember where I read it but there was a blog where a writer compared story to a map and plot to the route taken. I agreed at first but the more I think of it, the more I disagree. To me, a map is all possibilities. All those roads could be a different story and plot. But the possibilities of all those roads does not a story make.

To me, the route chosen is the story and the plot. Why the route is chosen represents the story and what happens on the route from A to B the plot. The map is the world in which it occurs.

Think of it another way: open your copy of Lord of the Rings. Look at that map of Middle Earth. Now tell me that’s a story. Exactly, the map is the world. The route (and later routes) of the Fellowship is the story and plot.

Okay, that’s enough for now.

How I Break Down A Flick

2012-01-11T12:00:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I mentioned I wanted to start doing some longer movie reviews. Before I do that, I figured it’d be a good idea to kind of introduce you to how I approach a movie. And it’s not just it was AWESOME or it SUCKED BALLS. At the same time, my approach isn’t different from any other sane person out there who enjoys a movie because some, if not all, of the following elements rock:

1. Story

2. Characters

3. Plot

4. Conflict

5. Dialogue

6. Female Nudity

7. Pacing

8. Hot Lesbian Scenes

9. Kickin’ Score

10. Structure

11. Theme

12. Arc
13. ......................

Okay, this isn’t an exhaustive list. Really, it could go on for a while. And maybe #6 and #8 aren’t on everyone’s list…but they should be.

Anyway, great movies exploit these elements well. Bad ones, not so much.

Now again, it’s easy to say a movie is AWESOME or SUCKS BALLS. It’s not always easy to say why.

I’m going to focus on the why.

The why ties into those elements above.

Stay tuned…

Where I Tell You Something You Don't Give A Shit About

2012-01-11T11:33:00.000-08:00

Well, the new year has come and gone. Eleven days in and 2012 feels loooooong. Probably because the twins are perfecting their ability to cry, scream, and demand food and fresh diapers at exactly the same time. In addition, they’ve decided to make the hours of 6 pm to roughly midnight the I’M GOING TO DRIVE YOU WITHIN AN INCH OF CRAZY AND MAKE YOU BEG FOR MERCY time. So yeah, the year feels long so far.

Anyhoo…

Been thinking about this blog a lot. Not like thinking about how awesome it or its author is. More like what I want to do with it this year. Pimping my work will always be a feature. As will pimping the work of those I deem worthy (except Sam W. Anderson, I pimp his work because he’s blackmailing me). I’ll also continue to do the “random-angry-whatever’s on my mind” post from time to time.

No, I’ve been thinking more about the movie reviews I do. A lot of them are quick and to the point. I’ve been told people like that. People don’t want to read long drawn out reviews of movies. (This includes my wife, who tells me, in no uncertain terms, she doesn’t have the patience to read my diatribes on why Movie A sucked).

Sometimes quick and to the point works. Sometimes, it’s the best thing for a particular movie. But others required meat hammers and a mighty pen. That takes time and space. It’s the kind of review I like doing the most. Not just because it’s fun to tear apart a movie (good or bad) but because it forces me to analyze, think, and put into words why it’s good or bad(which isn’t always easy). Examining Character, Story, Plot, Dialogue, etc. It forces me to also look at my own work and question am I making the same mistakes or why the hell ain’t I do the same awesome things.

It makes me a better writer.

So expect less quick movie reviews and stand-by for some long ones.

And I’m talking to you, the one person who actually reads this blog.

Shit, he’s already gone. Guess he liked the shorter reviews. Ah, well, I’m still going to do it.

One of My New Favorite Things

2012-01-06T17:24:00.000-08:00

'Nuff said.

Movie Review - Unknown

2012-01-02T21:39:00.000-08:00

Ughhh.....CORN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SPOILERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, this was a passable thriller for the first hour and...I don't know...twenty minutes. The standard "mistaken/lost identity" plot. Throw in some recent Jason Bourne action and a good cup of paranoia and it was on its way to be a serviceable, if not recommendable, flick.

And then the messages started smacking said viewer over the head with a fucking sledge hammer.

Now don't get me wrong, you can have a message to a movie. But start out with it. Don't start with a Bond flick and then tell me it's about freeing the horny pandas that don't know how to mate. What the fuck, right?

I smelled shit when I heard the word "progressive" thrown around to describe not one but two characters within a two minute span (and one of them was an Arab, which stinks of P.C., no offense).

Then there was the introduction of the ridiculous crop plot line late in the flick: Corn that can save the world.

Corn? Seriously? Fucking corn? The last food I think about when it comes to saving the world. But that's me.

Anyway. There's fights. There's 'splosions. There's other shit that doesn't matter. Basically, combine Total Recall and Bourne and a bleeding heart vagina and you'd end up with this flick.

But the capper? The scientist at the end, who was the real target because of his immense knowledge of....FUCKING CORN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!.....has a press conference where he announces that this MIRACLE FUCKING CORN is a gift from the PROGRESSIVE ARAB and SCIENCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Woot! Fucking Sledge Hammer to the skull. I feel like buying a Prius all of the sudden.

Anyway, this movie sucked. Mainly because of it's shitty resolution. I mean, it had so much fucking potential. The scene between the German spy and Frank Langella was sweet. Too bad they torpedoed it with a dumb ass...progressive....plot line.

Ughh.

Corn!

I give this:

FUCKING CORN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Quick Movie Review - The Adjustment Bureau

2011-12-28T13:00:00.000-08:00

Pretty good. Predictable. I mean - SPOILERS - you know it's going to work out in the end. You just know it.

But it was entertaining. They pull it off because it's basically a couple of chase scenes with a love story in between them:

Boy meets girl

CUT TO chase scene

CUT TO boy meets girl again

CUT TO chase scene

CUT TO boy and girl together then apart

CUT TO chase scene where boy finds girl again.

FADE OUT.

But the chase scenes are cool. So is the "supernatural" dynamic. There's a surprisingly good amount of humor and the love story isn't "vomit inducing, make me want to cheese grate my face" painful. It's kind of like a chick flick you get tricked into watching and you're not realizing it's a chick flick until it's over and then you realize "Hey, that was a fucking chick flick!"

Know how I know it's a chick flick?

The simple conclusion. SPOILERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Boy and girl end up together. They weren't supposed to end up together. It was part of THE BIG BAD PLAN. But they beat fate. Know how. God let them. He was so inspired by their love and commitment to each other He changed His plan.

Basically, their love was so beautiful and special that only they matter and the rest of the world can go to Hell. This doesn't take into account the possible butterfly effect. Like changing the past. They weren't supposed to end up together. But they did. Which means a small boy in India gets crushed by an elephant with rabies.

See what your love did??? Doesn't matter does it cuz you two are happy now and can do shit like go to Bed, Bath, and Beyond on the weekend and talk about thread counts in sheets.

Doesn't sound like a guy movie to me. Sounds like a chick flick. Because chick flicks always result in the death of small boys in India.

Documentary Review - The Pixar Story

2011-12-22T09:32:00.000-08:00

Watched this one last night. Good flick. If you want to watch a good story about imagination, determination, and pure creative brilliance, this is your doc. Most interesting parts for me were learning that both the first and second Toy Story flicks were pretty shitty in their first incarnations. In the first, Woody was just an asshole. In the second, the whole story sucked. And in the latter's case, they recognized that, threw out the work already in progress, and redid the whole thing in something like nine months.

That's amazing.

What's more amazing is all these guys worked at LucasFilm at one point. Boy, I wish they had been there when the Prequels were getting made. I could see it now:

Pixar Guy: This is pretty shitty, George.

George: What do you mean?

Pixar Guy: I mean the whole thing sucks. Nothing makes sense. The characters are boring. And there's no heart. And you need heart and a sense of adventure in these stories. You know that.

George: But kids will love Jar-Jar?

Pixar Guy: Jar-Jar is a ten foot tall retarded rabbit. Let's shit can this whole thing, reshoot, and I'll come up with something ten times better than Jar-Jar. Also, we'll get a better actor for Anakin. Hell, maybe I'll animate him, too.

George: You're fired.

Anyway, well worth checking out.

Documentary Review - Tales from the Script

2011-12-21T08:41:00.000-08:00

*Cue Crypt Keeper Laugh*

Hat tip to Kurt Dinan for bringing this one to my attention. It's a nice little doc if you're a writer of any kind. Fun to hear the stories, especially William Goldman and Shane Black. All the normal stuff is there: rejection, acception, rise and fall, working hard and getting nothing, spending years trying to break in, getting paid, etc, etc.

I think my favorite part is when John Carpenter (I paraphrase) points out that the screenwriter gets paid, even if his script is changed by a director. Stop whining and get over it. The point is, you got paid. Now go write something else.

Good stuff.

It's available on Netflix streaming.

Movie Review - Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans

2011-12-19T17:48:00.000-08:00

Other than the annoyingly long title and the fact it has nothing to do with the original (So why the title? Not like the first one was a big box office smash so they weren't capitalizing on name recognition.) other than there's a bad cop who wants to kind of redeem himself. Not like we haven't seen that in....every fucking noir movie ever made.

Anyhoo, the title was shitty but the movie is actually pretty good. Actually, it's good. Better than most stuff out there for sure. Plus you get to see Nick Cage in one of his better performances lately and still get him acting bugfuck nuts here and there. Good stuff.

I give it:

TV Movie Review??? Stephen King's Bag of Shit

2011-12-16T09:58:00.000-08:00

Whooops! I meant SK's Bag of Bones mini-series. Based on the novel of the same name.

Christ this sucked. I mean I can do a detailed review and point out all the ways but what's the point really? It sucks, plain and simple. But here's a few reasons why in which I also throw in comparison's to Big Trouble in Little China. Let's begin.

1. The acting is terrible. Pierce Brosnan phones it in. Apparently, he thinks he's Sean Connery in that he can take any role and never shed his accent. Which doesn't work here because he's supposed to be an American, even has a brother who sounds American, yet there's Pierce being Pierce. The rest of the cast is forgettably awful. And I mean all of them. Maybe it's the script but everyone sounds off. You know when you walk into a public bathroom to take a leak and hear someone dropping a nasty deuce? That's the way the cast sounds. What they needed was Kurt Russell. And not Jack Burton Kurt Russell although that would have helped. No, they just needed plain old Kurt to play the writer. A guy who can be tough but also pull off depressed and drunk. A guy who looks like a working-class type who decided to take up writing. Not a pretty boy. A reasonable guy who experiences pretty unreasonable things. A guy who knows what to do when the earth quakes, and the poison arrows fall from the sky, and the pillars of Heaven shake. Yeah, Kurt would just look that big ol' storm right square in the eye and he says, "Give me your best shot, pal. I can take it." In this case, he'd say it to a ghost.

2. The bad guy. Ties into reason one but gets his own number because he's that much more shittier. Cartoonish. Mustache twirling. TIMES A BILLION! Where's Lo-Pan when you need him? Little old basket case on wheels would have fit better in the storyline than this clown. I know, I know. Chinese girls don't have green eyes and supernatural Chinese villains don't belong in Maine. Indeed!

3. The directing. Mick Garris sucks. Can we just get that out of the way? All of his King adaptation are terrible. This one is no different. Actually, it might be his worst yet. Because it tries to be a real movie. There's the sloppy opening title sequence: fade in, fade out, fade in, fade out. I want to sleep already. Then there's the silly scares. The convenient set-ups like Pierce driving by the villain's house and the villain just happens to be at the window looking at him like he's been waiting eons just for Pierce to drive by (aren't we all?!?). Then like a day later, Pierce drives by again and sure enough, there's the villain only this time with a devilish grin. Ooooh! I sense conflict! And convenient. But not as conveniently fun as driving into a Chinese stand-off in an alley in San Francisco's China Town where the Hang-Sengs and the Wing-Kong just happen to be getting ready to throw down to the death and Lo-Pan in ten-foot tall roadblock guise just happens to be there, the same Lo-Pan who recently kidnapped Wang Chi's girlfriend, a Chinese girl with green eyes. I mean, that would just be crazy. BUT FUN! Unlike Bag of Bones, which sucked.

4. The script. Bad dialogue. Bad timing. Nothing memorable. Nothing sharp. But lots of yelling about curses and needing to break the curse and you don't know what you're dealing with and there are forces at work here and curses and custody and power and white people are bad and women have it coming and the sins of the father and...what, I trailed off I guess. Pretty much if it's a cliche related to curses and bloodlines, it's here. Lots of self-important talk about having to break said curse by, go figure, sacrificing children to appease the angry woman that was raped and killed along with her daughter. Maybe I missed something but it all felt really trite and familiar. Or maybe I didn't get it. Then again, I was not brought upon this world to get it! I tell you, it's nothing like sacrificing a girl to Ching Dai, having the curse lifted, and going on to rule the world from beyond the grave. Nothing like it at all.

5. The ending. Hmmm. Bad. The silly "I got to put you to rest even though you're dead by dissolving your earthly remains with lye." What? What the fuck? How about fire? That burns up remains, too. And how did we get to lye. And what's this say about our victim? Excuse me, I know you were raped and murdered as was your daughter and then buried in an unmarked grave but we disagree with the scope of your vengeance so we're going to dig up your bodies and dissolve them into goo so you can finally be at rest. Uhh...what if that's not what she wants. What if...and this is crazy...but what if she just wants to keep killing girls in the bloodline for, I don't know, ever? Then you're not really putting her at rest, are you? You're fucking re-killing her. I think. Whatever it is you do to dead people. Or ghosts. Point is, when you decide to dissolve a ghost's remains to stop said ghost from inflicting death, you do so with extreme prejudice. You do so because you want to stop her, not because you care about her rest. It's combat. And that angry ghost should be doing whatever it needs to to stop you, not just let you dig them up and dump lye on them. Wow, that's exciting! No you need a ghost that comes out of thin air in the middle of a goddamn alley while her buddies are flying around on wires cutting everybody to shreds. And you don't fight a ghost with a shovel and lye. You fight it with a six demon bag until it becomes flesh. Then you throw a fucking knife into it's head!

How did I end up slipping Big Trouble in Little China in here, you ask? Why, the wheelchair of course. Crabby old guy in wheel chair caused instant memory recall of Lo-Pan. Both are up to no good. Both need to sacrifice a female to end their curse. Both have weird henchmen. Both are evil. And both scare everyone around them except our hero.

So, that about sums it up. It was terrible. Rather than watch it, watch Big Trouble in Little China. It's good and fun and everything this movie isn't. I give Bag of Bones this:

THE REVEREND'S POWDER Now Available as an E-Book on Amazon

2011-12-13T19:32:00.000-08:00

My novelette THE REVEREND'S POWDER is now available on Amazon as an e-book. That means you can read it on Kindle, Kindle for iPad, iPhone, and PC and whatever else there is out there sanctioned by Amazon. It's also DRM free.

If you didn't get a chance to check out the chapbook version or if you weren't sure you wanted to drop the $13 for the limited edition, well now can get it electronically for the hefty price of $2.99. Hope you pick-up (or should I say download) a copy.

Drive-by Updates

2011-12-13T14:14:00.000-08:00

1. DEMON is available as an e-book now. Yay!

2. DEMON is available as a trade paperback. Yay!

3. TALES FROM THE YELLOW ROSE DINER AND FILL STATION should be out this month.

4. CRANK STOMP, my bigfoot-hooked-on-meth novella/novel (it's 40k words so you pick) is under consideration at...can't say. But it's a publisher.

5. GUARDIANS, the sequel to DEMON, will be published in 2012. That's up a year.

6. FACELESS, the sequel to BLOOD SPRING, will be published in 2013. That's back a year. Also, that was my call because it needs some revising. Possibly a year's worth.

7. I've got a couple of stories out there somewhere being considered. It's been hard to keep track because...

8. I've got two new baby girls at home, a 2.5 year old who is gaining more energy by the day, and tons of shopping to do for family over the next few days. So, I'm busy, busy, busy.

9. Oh, and I just finished the first draft of a new novel called PROGENY (working title).

10. And I'm about 15k words into a novella/novel (not sure how long it'll be) titled TRIPPING THE AUDIENT VOID.

I think that's it.

DEMON Now Available as an E-Book on Amazon

2011-12-10T20:00:00.000-08:00

My novel DEMON is now available as an e-book on Amazon. It will only be available as an e-book from Amazon for a while. That means if you have a Kindle, you can get it. If you've got the Kindle Application for iPhone, iPad, PC, or whatever else there is, you can get it. It's also DRM-free.

I've priced it at $4.99. I think that's a fair price for an 80,000 word novel. Similar to the old mass market paperbacks (when they were cheap). The e-book formatting and cover art are by me. Yeah, I've taught myself a lot. I think the cover looks pretty cool. But hey, that's me.

Anyway, if you're interested, you can purchase here.

Movie Review - The Fighter

2011-12-08T17:14:00.000-08:00

Yeah, it's a good movie. Nothing is added to the scope of boxing movies. There's the proverbial down and out followed by training, sprinkle in family drama, only to reach the big fight finale. I won't tell you how it ends but I'll say he does win...or lose.

What sets this one apart is the humor. I was surprised at how funny it was. The coven of sisters is classic. The mom almost steals the movie. Bale is the funniest crack addict this side of Dave Chappelle's Tyrone Biggums.

Anyway, good flick. I give it:

My Angels Aren't Pussies

2011-12-06T13:12:00.000-08:00

Interesting post on writing angels and angels in literature.

Because I'm completely self-serving: my angels are not pussies. They are not pretty boys. They do not sit high on the mountain following the Prime Directive. They follow orders. They're God's Spec Ops operators. Badass beings of light and fire. Wingtips dipped in blood.

Nor are my fallen angels/demons moustache twirling chumps. They don't sulk. They don't cry. They punish. They hate. They murder. They torture. Because, above all things, they hate mankind. They're jealous. And they're really fucking smart. They're angels that have fallen. So they've lost some powers. But they're ageless and they are patient.

For more info on my characterization of angels and demons, check out my novel...DEMON.

Movie Review - The Killing

2011-12-02T17:12:00.000-08:00

Stanley Kubrick's first full movie with a pro cast. It's got a lot to admire. A great cast. Great dialogue. Amazing camera work. I mean you can see Kubrick's fingerprints all over the camera work. A sign of things to come...

But the voice over narration at the beginning and through out...holy shit does it suck. That narration almost killed it for me. Yet I muscle fucked my way through the narration and was pleasantly surprised. It left me wondering why in the hell the narration was necessary. And realized it wasn't.

Which brings me to another point: Tarantino learned this. Reservoir Dogs had a similar non-linear story but it told us without the narration. It worked ten times better.

I should add further explanation: there's a great scene near the end where a cop involved with the plot ignores a woman in distress. We get it.. He's involved. He needs to be at a certain place at a certain time...

Then the fucking narration comes in and explains away the cop driving away as the woman beg's for help, completely undermining the power of the scene. Lame.

My advice, watch it but mute it whenever you hear narration. It's...dumb.

I give this:

Digression - College Football

2011-12-01T23:08:00.000-08:00

A small one here but I want to say something about the current state of college football. First, I should note I love college football. Regular readers here know this. But I've been railing against it the last year or two. I think the punishment leveled at USC was completely unfair. I think these stupid college uniform modifications inflicted on us by Nike and Under Armour are travesties. Nay, they're abominations.

Anyhoo, I'm not happy. And the thing that pisses me off more than anything is the BCS selection process. Hell, the BCS period. And it's pissed me off for a long time.

It seems every year I'm rooting for BCS controversy because I'm hoping, nay, praying it'll lead to a playoff. But I don't think I can even root this year. Why? Because we're seriously looking at a National Championship game featuring not only two teams from the same conference but two teams from the same divisional conference.

This is wrong.

The possible scenario: LSU vs Alabama. They played earlier this year. LSU beat Alabama in a boring overtime game. Now people are hoping this will be the rematch national championship. Really? Fuck that.

Here's why.

First, I firmly believe that if you do not win you conference or, shit, even play in your conference championship game, you have no right to play in the big game. I've had this belief since Oklahoma lost to Kansas State in the Big 12 championship only to lose and go to the national championship anyway to...lose.

Here's the thing. I think Alabama - LSU should happen...if both teams make it to the end through a playoff system. But that's not the system. We pick the teams with the best record from multiple divisions. In that case, assuming the season ended today, it should be LSU vs Oklahoma State (assuming OSU beat OU this weekend). Or LSU vs Va Tech. Not Alabama. Alabama lost to LSU. They're not going to play in the SEC Championship. LSU will play Georgia. Yet they're still going to back into the big game? Fuck that. I'd rather see Oregon play LSU because at least Oregon won they're fucking conference.

Here's another thing. The Big East still gets an automatic big. The Big East sucks. West Virginia at 9-3 or Louisville at (gulp) 7-5 will play in one of the BCS bowls, and get promptly stomped by Stanford. Yet a team like Boise State (who has done nothing but beat every team it's faced in a major bowl - hello OU) or TCU will not get an invite. What the fuck? TCU beat Wisconsin in the Rose Bowl last year. But they're not good enough this year because they didn't win every fucking game. Same for Boise State. Yet West Virgina is aces because they play in a shitty conference that is literally falling to pieces. A conference with eight fucking teams.

While I'm yelling: hey Big 12, you've only got ten fucking teams! Hey Big 10, you've got twelve fucking teams! Get your fucking names squared away. Fucking idiots.

But hey, it's college football. It's run by Baby Boomers. You know. Everyone get's a trophy. Everyone gets a bowl game. We're Legends or Leaders (pretty damn gay, Big 10). Fuck this. Fuck college football. Get a god damn playoff system going already.

Here's a thought experiment. Take the college system and apply it to the NFL. Last year, using that logic, we would have had New England vs Atlanta in the Super Bowl. No Green Bay. No awesome Wild Card playoff run. No complete domination of the post season. What do you prefer?

An Open Letter to Amazon Publishing

2011-11-30T11:15:00.000-08:00

Dear Amazon Publishing,

My name is Erik Williams. I'm an author. I've written such books as DEMON. You probably haven't heard of it. But you can learn more here.

Anyway, I'm writing because I want to first tell you how awesome you are. Both as a one-stop shop for everything you could ever want and as a rising giant in publishing. I've been a loyal customer for over ten years. I've been publishing through your Kindle arm for two. You've helped me make money. Hopefully, I've helped you make some coin, too.

Secondly, I want to ask you a favor. And this is the main reason for writing. You see, I've got this book DEMON. I think I mentioned it earlier. It's available as a trade paperback from a small press publisher. It's also being released in a very limited hard cover edition. That's it. I've retained all the other rights, including electronic and mass market. I plan on releasing an e-book in the not too distant future. But...

I was hoping you might be interested in picking it up and releasing it under the Amazon brand. Yeah, I know this is a long shot but figured why not? Publishing's changing. Maybe the way us unknown author's query can change, too. So here's my query: would you be interested in picking up the electronic and/or mass market rights for DEMON?

It's a win-win for both of us. I mean, I'm going to do it on my own if you don't pick it up. Which means I'll make some money and you'll make some money. But if you do pick it up, we'll both make even more money.

Here's something more: it's the first book in a series. The second book, GUARDIANS, and the third THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS, are also already written. So the potential is there for continuing and growing success.

The books are military horror. Or supernatural thrillers. However you want to label them. They're fast reads that don't let up on the action or tension and will be enjoyed by men and women alike. Especially men and women who like books about CIA assassins combating supernatural entities in our modern world.

If you're interested in talking more, or even checking out a copy of DEMON, you can reach me at

ebooza (at) yahoo (dot) com.

Thank you for your time and consideration. Look forward to hearing from you.

Best Regards,

Erik Williams

Wow, I'm a Daddy Three Times Over

2011-11-28T20:12:00.000-08:00

So, the twins have been home since Thursday night. We did Thanksgiving on Friday. We were only able to accomplish that because my mom's in town and she cooked the dinner (thanks Mom!). My wife (Mel) and I have been busy busy busy. Meanwhile, the twins are sleeping during the day and keeping us up all night (for the most part). We've managed to get our sleep but still, nothing like staying up from 2-5 in the morning. Feels like I'm in college again, only without all the carefree fun and with a metric butt-ton more of responsibility. Actually, it feels like the complete opposite of college.

Anyway, everyone's home. Everyone's healthy. The twins' names, by the way, are Lily and Gemma (yes, I know Gemma is also the big bad bitch on Sons of Anarchy. No we didn't name her after her. But my Gemma, so far, is resembling that Gemma). They are awesome and a handful and I know I'm going to be scaring my share of boyfriends sixteen years from now.

So, that's the update for now. I'm exhausted. I haven't written a word in a week. I have three daughters now. And I'm going to scare the shit out of you if you court one of my daughters 14 - 16 years from now. Bank on it. I'm angry. I like guns. And I will stomp you into a mud hole if you break their hearts. I also know all the male tricks. I am one. Know all the angles. Know all the lies. And I will teach them. Teach them to not only call bullshit but grab a handful of nuts and twist and say, "My daddy taught me better."

And I'll be laughing on my front porch, shaking my fists at the solitary cloud drifting across a full moon and chasing you young scampers and ne'redowells off my yard.

While I Wait for My Twins...

2011-11-23T12:17:00.000-08:00

...I got two things to bitch about.

1. There's nothing I hate more than walking into Wal-Mart and looking at the Greeter. Making that eye contact. Anticipating the greeting I know is coming. And acknowledging the greeting before the Greeter says anything.

That's right, I hate a Greeter that leaves me hanging. I hate it more that Wal-Mart and I hate Wal-Mart quite a bit.

But how fucking lazy do you need to be to be a Greeter and not greet? All you fucking do is sit there and say, "Hi, Welcome to Wal-Mart."

Yet this fuck looked at me and started to say something and I said, "Hi." And this fuck broke off the greeting he was supposed to give me. Leaving me doing his job. I became the greeter and he just looked away.

It was awkward. I kind of wanted him to pay me for doing his job.

So, if you're a Greeter, do your fucking job. If you don't, if you entrap me into giving the greeting before you do, I think I should have the right to un-greet you. In other words, instead of a "Hi" and a "Welcome" I get to grab you by the collar and drag you into the parking lot and say, "Bye. Get the fuck out of Wal-Mart."

2. You fucking people who go to Costco and stand around the sample ladies waiting for the next batch of 1/8th slices of frozen turkey meatballs to come out of the toaster oven. Standing there and blocking the aisle to get your little freebie that you're never going to buy.

FUCK YOU! You should be drug out in the street and summarily executed.

How fucking cheap do you need to be to stand around for five minutes waiting for a little paper cup with a little piece of turkey meatball? And they're not even the worse. It's the fucks waiting around for a cup of granola. A cup of fucking granola!

Okay, rant off. Back to baby watch '11.

The Prophecy and Quotes

2011-11-20T00:35:00.000-08:00

I reviewed the sequel in the last post. But I want to pay tribute to two huge quotes from the first movie I freely admit influenced my work in regards to angels and demons. They are:

"Did you ever notice how in the Bible, when ever God needed to punish someone, or make an example, or whenever God needed a killing, he sent an angel? Did you ever wonder what a creature like that must be like? A whole existence spent praising your God, but always with one wing dipped in blood. Would you ever really want to see an angel?"

That's what I thought of when I created my manifestations of angels. Not happy kids with wings playing harps. But beings of light that did as they were told. That's the key: executing the plan.

"I'm an angel. I kill firstborns while their mamas watch. I turn cities into salt. I even, when I feel like it, rip the souls from little girls, and from now till kingdom come, the only thing you can count on in your existence is never understanding why."

Never understanding why was a huge quote to me. That pretty much sums up everything in a nutshell. And perfectly explains human reaction to such creatures. Or at least how they should react: with fear and trembling.

Movie Review - The Prophecy 2

2011-11-20T00:23:00.000-08:00

First, I'm a big fan of the first movie. Not that it's an Oscar winner or anything. But it's a well thought out movie, even though I disagree with it's theology. I don't think Gabriel and other arch angels are so willing to challenge God as these movies portray (and movies like Constantine and Legion). But hey, that's me.

Anyhoo, I dug the first movie because it had a lot of cool shit in it besides Christopher Walken. It had Viggo Mortensen as Lucifer. It had other cats. Had Michael Madsen's sister. Had Eric Stoltz as an angel that looked like Eric Stoltz.

Most of all, it had some awesome quotes. More on those later.

Anyway, I dug the first movie, even though it's more grounded in the apocryphal than gospel.

So, I looked forward to finally watching the sequel, thirteen years after it's release.

-Hey, sometimes it takes time to get to things-

Kind of sad to see Brittany Murphy playing a reanimated corpse.

Nice to see Jennifer Beals not aging. Ever. That chick has got some genes.

Nice to see Christopher Walken chewing scenery.

Oh, and how can we forget Glenn Danzig playing himself, as Samayel?

Overall, the movie was enjoyable, if a bit on the nose. The cast helps that. It helps I was drinking and USC had already won when I watched it. So, I give it a Drunken Monkey:

Not the best but better than a knife to the nuts. Plus the drinking is fun.

But this isn't the only reason I chose to watch it and talk about it. I've written a book about angels and demons. It's called DEMON. You may have heard of it.

DEMON has a sequel. In which I go further into the angel/demon mythos I'm creating. In the first two books, it's mainly Uriel and the fallen angels who follow Lucifer. But I also introduce the Watchers and the Nephilim. And the Nephilim play a big part in this movie. So, it's interesting to see how they chose to use the lore and I chose to use it. I like my way better.

But hey, I'm prejudice. Then again, I like the way I use my angels, too. Even the fallen ones.

So, I guess I'm using this as a chance to talk up my shit. But I"m okay with that. It's my blog.

More on the cool movie quotes in the next post.

Action Movie Wet Dream

2011-11-19T18:45:00.000-08:00

Okay, I'll admit it. I creamed a little when I saw this poster. In a completely non-gay way.

The Crow's Caw reviews The Yellow Rose

2011-11-19T13:56:00.000-08:00

Great review of TALES FROM THE YELLOW ROSE DINER AND FILL STATION over at The Crow's Caw. Check it out when you get a chance. Also, check out some of their other great reviews. They're doing great work over there.

Click here.

On Cults and Publishing

2011-11-16T11:54:00.000-08:00

Okay, so in the previous post I introduced you to the Handy Dandy Cult Checklist. I recommend printing it and keeping it on you at all times. Eye your neighbors. Your co-workers. Start checking off boxes if you think he/she/they meet the criteria.

Why?

Well, there are cults all around us. You heard the phrases “Cult of Penn State” and “Cult of Joe Paterno” before. I think we’ve seen, over the last week, what that kind of “cult” devotion can do.

Now I’m not going to delve into the horror story that is Penn State and the ever-evolving abuse case(s). It’s dark enough and talked about enough that I’ve had enough. It outrageous and sad and shameful all wrapped up into a nice neat bundle. People are going to pay. And they need to pay.

No, instead I’m going to talk about publishing. Publishing and cult like behavior.

Okay, Erik, how the hell do you jump from Penn State to publishing?

Because I can.

Anyway, as many of you know, publishing is going through, what I like to call, a bit of a rough patch. Paper vs e-publishing. Traditional vs self-publishing. Authors vs authors. Pros vs Pros. Pros vs Amateurs. Amateurs vs Amateurs. Winners vs Losers. So on, and so on.

I’m not going to get into the nitty gritty. Suffice it to say, the big battle seems to be between pro authors who are suspicious of the “self-publishing wave” (aka, the Kindle Effect) and those who’ve embraced it.

Those suspicious are so because they think the glut of self-pubbers, for the most part, are taking the easy way out. In other words, they write something and then put up on Kindle. They see it as the new slushpile. The new vanity press. Instead of getting the word vetted, it’s an open door to a world full of even more crappy books. If these self-pubbers had only gone the traditional route of writing and submitting to a “gatekeeper” those crappy works would never end up on Kindle.

Those embracing it are either established writers who don’t think traditional publishing works anymore, established writers who have lost their traditional deals, and newbies who either reject the traditional route because they truly believe it’s dead or newbies who reject the traditional route because it’s harder and Kindle is easy.

These are very simplified descriptions. Anyone in either camp can very easily jump up and declare I’ve oversimplified it. Great. Good for you. But my point is very simple. Either you think traditional publishing is still viable and a good way to sort chaff from wheat or you don’t and think the self-publishing market (i.e., consumers) will sort chaff from wheat.

I agree with both. Yes, I’m straddling. But for good reason. I’ve done both. I’ve published books in the small press and as my own e-books. Why? Well to make money of course. It’s really what it comes down to. Money and readers. Accessing as many people as possible while at the same time pocketing some cash. Win-win.

***Side note: I don’t suffer for my art because I don’t consider it art. I consider it work. Work that entertains. I’ll let the readers decide if it’s art. In the meantime, get me paid, bitch.***

I’m not the only one who straddles, by the way. A lot of established pros have put up their out-of-print backlist on Kindle, etc. A lot of self-pubbers have taken traditional deals as a result of their success in the e-book world. I call this the happy middle. These are the cats who see the advantage in maximizing all avenues in publishing. They make business decisions. That’s key. They want to get paid. Crazy. So they do what they think is in their best interest. Quietly. Maybe they rap about what they’re doing. Maybe they question this or that. But that’s pretty much it. They don’t crawl up on crosses and nail themselves to it.

Then there are the crazy angry fuckers. Both camps have them.

The established pros who are not just suspicious but all together hostile toward any form of self-publishing. You pass through gatekeepers and if you’re lucky, your work will be published. Anything else and you’re a lazy person looking for the easy way. If it was meant to be published, it would be and not by your hand. Losers!

On the other side are the self-pubbers who have decided this is a revolution. Paper is dead. The Big 6 are dead. E-books aren’t the future. They’re the present. People who take traditional deals are nuts, stupid, backward thinking. Losers!

So basically, these cats are the extremists. And what are extremists? Well, they’re navel gazers for one. They’re dangerous. They’re crazy. And they’re rather inflexible.

They also tend to form cults.

Now like I said, I have and continue to publish through the small press and on my own in e-book form. Most of those stories and novels I publish on my own have or will be published traditionally, too. You see, I sell the print rights but retain the electronic rights for myself. The small press allows that flexibility. So, I’m learning a lot about both sides of the coin.

But if a big publisher came along and offered me six of seven figures for DEMON I would not say no. This is where the crazy self-pubbers start foaming at the mouth. They say things like “long-term” earnings and “royalty rates” and “length of rights purchase”.

Hey, as an author, you’re supposed to study every contract you’re offered and, I don’t know, make a fucking decision on what you think is best. Guess what, as a newbie, taking money up front is in my best interest. If they want to purchase my rights for seven years, sold. Get me paid, bitch.

Why? Because there’s absolutely no guarantee I’ll ever sell that much of that book on my own. Sure, maybe. But if a publisher is willing to risk a seven figure advance on me, done. That’s money in hand (and yes, I know advances aren’t all paid up front, nor are royalties paid on time all the time).

Point is those rights will revert back to me sooner or later. In the meantime, hopefully, that book they risked that money on has gotten my name out there. Maybe it sold well. Maybe it sold great.

Point is, the next book contract will either have more money or better terms. Or I’ll retain my rights and go the self-pub route because by that point I know I can sell better on my own.

Or maybe I’ll do what Stephen King does: still publish traditionally but also do some original content for Kindle, etc. Crazy.

You see, that’s making a business decision. Being flexible. Willing to change my approach based on the situation on the ground. Not boxing myself into a corner, staring at my belly button, and telling everyone else you’re fucking wrong. Follow me to the Promised Land!

Now I’m going to pick on the Cult of Self-Pubbers. These cats pretty much have declared independence from New York and established the United States of Kindle (or Nook, or whatever). They have a leader. A leader who has embraced his Moses status that they have given him. I’ve read his blog. I think he used to make interesting points. Seeing how a pro could leverage both was eye-opening. Then something happened. Kindle publishing exploded. Everyone was doing it. Mostly self-pubbers with no other publishing experience. And they found a King to anoint. He became they’re champion. He started making a lot of money. He declared print dead. Self-pubbing was the way to go. The movement became a following. A…cult

If you don’t believe me, hop on over to his blog and read the comments. If you know who he is, you know the blog. Then read the checklist again.

The group displays excessively zealous and unquestioning commitment to its leader and (whether he is alive or dead) regards his belief system, ideology, and practices as the Truth, as law.

‪ Questioning, doubt, and dissent are discouraged or even punished.

‪ Mind-altering practices (such as meditation, chanting, speaking in tongues, denunciation sessions, and debilitating work routines) are used in excess and serve to suppress doubts about the group and its leader(s).

‪ The leadership dictates, sometimes in great detail, how members should think, act, and feel (for example, members must get permission to date, change jobs, marry—or leaders prescribe what types of clothes to wear, where to live, whether or not to have children, how to discipline children, and so forth).

‪ The group is elitist, claiming a special, exalted status for itself, its leader(s) and members (for example, the leader is considered the Messiah, a special being, an avatar—or the group and/or the leader is on a special mission to save humanity).

‪ The group has a polarized us-versus-them mentality, which may cause conflict with the wider society.

‪ The leader is not accountable to any authorities (unlike, for example, teachers, military commanders or ministers, priests, monks, and rabbis of mainstream religious denominations).

‪ The group teaches or implies that its supposedly exalted ends justify whatever means it deems necessary. This may result in members' participating in behaviors or activities they would have considered reprehensible or unethical before joining the group (for example, lying to family or friends, or collecting money for bogus charities).

‪ The leadership induces feelings of shame and/or guilt in order to influence and/or control members. Often, this is done through peer pressure and subtle forms of persuasion.

‪ Subservience to the leader or group requires members to cut ties with family and friends, and radically alter the personal goals and activities they had before joining the group.

‪ The group is preoccupied with bringing in new members.

‪ The group is preoccupied with making money.

‪ Members are expected to devote inordinate amounts of time to the group and group-related activities.

‪ Members are encouraged or required to live and/or socialize only with other group members.

‪ The most loyal members (the “true believers”) feel there can be no life outside the context of the group. They believe there is no other way to be, and often fear reprisals to themselves or others if they leave (or even consider leaving) the group.

I think we can pretty much check all the boxes. It’s all about money, money, money. I said get me paid, bitch, but this is ridiculous. It reads like a bad pyramid scheme. A ridiculous support group. Group think. A cult. With no focus on craft or the benefits of working hard to traditionally publish.

It’s easy for established authors to say, “Yeah been there done that and it was hard and a lot of time was wasted by sitting around waiting for a rejection.” Nothing about, “Waiting around forced me to work on something new and that rejection forced me to study my work and work on my craft.” Nope. Just, “Write and publish it and make money. Oh, and make sure it’s your best writing, get a copy editor, and a good cover (got to cover those bases to say I told you so). By the way, let me pimp some more of my work to keep this party going! And if you’re still trying traditional publishing you’re just looking for validation, you’re vain, and you’re dreaming. Meanwhile, all of you loyal followers continue the group hug, sell each other your books, talk about how much you agree with me, and do not do anything like self-publish for validation, vanity, or because it’s your dream. That would be CRAZY!”

Again, I’m not railing against either traditional or self-publishing. There are benefits to both. But the extremists need to be picked on.

For more information, see Tobias Buckell's post on Raging Fuck Wads

Handy Dandy Cult Checklist

2011-11-16T10:31:00.000-08:00

Why am I posting this? Because it's going to be important to a future post. I want to prime the pump. Introduce it. Let it sink in before I wax all culty.

The group displays excessively zealous and unquestioning commitment to its leader and (whether he is alive or dead) regards his belief system, ideology, and practices as the Truth, as law.

‪ Questioning, doubt, and dissent are discouraged or even punished.

‪ The group has a polarized us-versus-them mentality, which may cause conflict with the wider society.

‪ The leader is not accountable to any authorities (unlike, for example, teachers, military commanders or ministers, priests, monks, and rabbis of mainstream religious denominations).

‪ The leadership induces feelings of shame and/or guilt iin order to influence and/or control members. Often, this is done through peer pressure and subtle forms of persuasion.

‪ Subservience to the leader or group requires members to cut ties with family and friends, and radically alter the personal goals and activities they had before joining the group.

‪ The group is preoccupied with bringing in new members.

‪ The group is preoccupied with making money.

‪ Members are expected to devote inordinate amounts of time to the group and group-related activities.

‪ Members are encouraged or required to live and/or socialize only with other group members.

Movie Reviews Going Forward

2011-11-15T21:55:00.000-08:00

So, you know I do movie reviews. I do them as I watch them. Most are quick. Some are long, painful (in a funny way) and all together entertaining to me.

Figured it was time to make the reviews more entertaining. More specific. More...me.

Let me rephrase that: I need to brand these suckers more.

So, when I watch a movie I'll still provide a quick or long review. But with it will also come an official rating. They are:

1. This movie gets a Really Fucking Good. Yeah, I think that pretty much speaks for itself.

2. This movie gets a Drunken Monkey. Basically, it's kind of shitty but it may be a guilty pleasure / something you can enjoy when you're drunk. Overall, not bad.

3. This movie gets an Angry Penguin. Basically, it could have been good but for whatever reason, the people behind it fucked it up and thus have engaged my rage. Overall, good parts but a shitty whole.

4. This movie gets a Fucking Terrible. Yeah, I think that pretty much speaks for itself.

A Drunken Monkey rating will be accompanied by its own picture:

Same goes for an Angry Penguin:

Yes, those are from the masthead. I'm economizing.

I don't have a pic for Really Fucking Good or Fucking Terrible. But I'm working on it.

Wait a minute, I do have pics. Here they are:

Really Fucking Good:

And Fucking Terrible:

Stay tuned...

What You Should Order Right Now

2011-11-14T09:35:00.000-08:00

This is an easy one. If you haven't read any John Rector, you're missing out on some of the best suspense/crime fiction out there. Already Gone is his newest. If you haven't read him, you won't go wrong picking this one up. And I'm willing to bet you'll follow it by picking up The Cold Kiss and The Grove.

Prove me wrong.

Balancing Salesmanship with Righteous Anger

2011-11-09T09:21:00.000-08:00

I'd never make a good salesman. I'm too brutally honest. I'm the guy that would tell a potential customer, "Don't buy those shoes. They're pieces of shit." And I'd be the salesman for that shoe company.

Being an author, you need to have some salesmanship abilities. Need to know when to say something good and withhold something bad. Most importantly, need to guard against wearing your heart on your sleeve.

You see, I'd love to spout my opinion. What I really think. What I really believe. And where maybe 50% of you out there would agree, another 50% would not, and I may lose those potential readers. Permanently. I know this is true because I can't watch Sean Penn anymore. I mean the guy's a twat.

See, that's what I'm talking about. Now Sean Penn and his legions of supporters may not buy my work.

Damn it.

Heart on sleeve tucked back into chest.

Anyway, this is tough for me. Like I said, I'm brutally honest and I like telling it like it is. When you're wrong, I want to blow torch you with truth.

But I don't. I keep it in check.

This is hard. Damn hard. Especially when I'm full of righteous anger. Righteous anger at someone in particular. Someone I'd like to give the finger to and tell him what a giant douche bag he is.

But I can't. Because his supporters will turn against me. And his are more than mine. I'll lose potential readers. Not to mention he can always choose to engage and then the flame war of all flame wars would start. Then it's he said - he said. Then we both look like schmucks.

I could list the reasons why I hate this fucker and not name him. But then I just look like a pussy for not owning my anger properly. Not to mention everyone I know that's a writer will eventually ask, "Hey, are you talking about me? What'd I do?"

Nah, better to just bottle up the anger. Let it fester until it explodes or I die of a heart attack down the road.

But you know who you are. Yep, it's you. And I'm giving you the finger right now. Douche bag.

To Everyone...

2011-11-08T14:46:00.000-08:00

Who pre-ordered a copy of the hardcover limited editions of either DEMON or TALES FROM THE YELLOW ROSE DINER AND FILL STATION or both, you have my profound gratitude.

To any who didn't, hey, thanks for considering anyway.

Occupy Guy Fawkes

2011-11-04T09:49:00.000-07:00

I'm going to go ahead and assume that all the Occupy Protestors are adopting Guy Fawkes as their hero because of what he wanted to do (blow-up Parliament) rather than why he wanted to do it (re-establish the Catholic monarchy).

Either that or they're huge fans of that shit-bomb movie V for Vendetta.

Probably both.

Tales from The Yellow Rose Diner and Fill Station Pre-Orders...

2011-11-02T19:56:00.000-07:00

***UPDATE: It's Friday, Yo! Last Chance!***

...end this Friday. Whatever the final numbers are, that's the print run. So if you don't order, your chances of getting one are slim (unless a bookseller orders a couple and puts them up for sale later). Might as well take advantage and order now. You won't have to pay until the books are ready to ship. Hop on over to Sideshow Press to make that order.

Oh, and if that's not incentive enough, check out Norman Partridge's blog where he says some badass things about the book. A Bucketful of Badness. I like the sound of that.

Quick Movie Review - The Social Network

2011-11-01T22:32:00.000-07:00

I didn't want to like this movie. I mean Facebook. Zucker. Who gives a shit? Who thought this would be a good movie?

Then I saw the Fincher (David Fincher as everyone else knows him) was directing. And I wondered, "What the fuck is the Fincher directing this shit for?"

Then I saw all these rave reviews. These Oscar nominations. Figured, well, it had to be better than Ben Button.

Well, I'm happy to say it is better than Ben Button. And the Fincher came through.

What I can't believe is I actually enjoyed a movie about Zucker and Facebook.

Damn, this really irritates me.

But it's true. I like it. Not sure why exactly. I mean, it was well made. The Fincher always comes through there. The dialogue was top-notch. The acting was fantastic.

That's not it, though. I think it's the fact that I knew nothing of the "Facebook Drama". It was an entertaining story. One I enjoyed learning about. Harvard to the now. The different websites. The Napster guy. It was all...

Interesting.

Yeah, that about sums it up.

Last Call for DEMON Hardcover

2011-10-31T13:27:00.000-07:00

The last day of pre-orders for the hardcover of my novel DEMON is, you guessed it, today. So, if you want to order it, now is the time. If you've been considering it, time to make the call because after today, it will be history. And to any and all who've already order it, you have my eternal gratitude.

To order, go here.

On the Menu - Knowing the Deal

2011-10-25T08:23:00.000-07:00

So, my fellow Snutch Labbers have each taken a story from TALES FROM THE YELLOW ROSE DINER AND FILL STATION and written a blog post about that story and the writer behind it. When it came time for me to grab a story, I didn’t so much as choose but get handed-

Petra Miller’s.

Now this may sound like I’m not pleased with this selection. Like I didn’t want to talk about Petra or her story. Like maybe I’d rather stab my testicles with shards of broken glass. Like maybe I’d rather take a cheese grater to my scrotum-

Point is, it was none of these things. What it is, though, is heading back down a road I wouldn’t normally choose again. You know, that shortcut you take on the way home because you don’t want to sit through an extra fifteen minutes of traffic. Only that shortcut is really a quick way through Hell and Satan is waiting there with his minions, ready to stab and poke and have demonic monkeys fling flaming poo at you. You know the one I’m talking about. You make it home but man, you’re pretty sure you won’t take that road every again.

That’s the way I feel when I think of Petra’s story. Not because it’s terrible (it’s actually really damn good) and not because it’s painful to read (it is, in a very tragic way). But because it reminds me of that fifteen minute shortcut through Hell.

Let me explain.

When Snutch Labs was pulling YELLOW ROSE together, I volunteered to be the “editor”. Basically, the one who would pick the order of the stories, write the first draft of the connecting story, and push on everyone to get their stories done. You know, stick to the self-imposed deadline and such. That was it. I didn’t get into the nitty-gritty of editing. We policed ourselves. And quite well, I might add. I laid out the book and offered the skeleton of the connecting story. Everyone else came in, beat up the lay out, added muscle and tissue to the connecting, and we all come out alive and happy.

Except there was one story that almost killed me. Almost drove me to the brink of insanity.

That story, as you’ve probably guessed, wasn’t mine. Nope, it was “Knowing the Deal” by Petra Miller.

What you have to understand is Petra is a perfectionist. She absolutely does not want to offer up a story unless she believes it is her best work. She doesn’t even want fellow Snutch Labbers to read and critique it until she has rewritten it about eight billion times. No first drafts with Petra. No, no.

What that means is it can take a LONG time for Petra to offer up that story. Not write it necessarily. I weep for the amount of trees that have died because of the infinite number of rewrites Petra has done.

***Side note – The rest of Snutch isn’t much better when it comes to rewrites. Mantooth and Dinan are perfectionists, too, they just let us read first drafts sometimes. Kim has her quirky ways. And Sam, Christ, I won’t even go into Sam’s issues.***

Anyhoo, Petra was taking a long time to get her story done. And with good reason. She wanted it to be her best. We all wanted our stories to be the best we’d written. But the deadline was here and her story wasn’t and I was wearing the Editor hat (maybe too tightly) and things got heated.

I mean hot. Hell hot.

If you know me, you know I have what we call a bit of a temper. And I’d had enough of Petra’s perfection. It started to ring to me of self-doubt and dragging feet. All writers go through it and I figured Petra had just entered a shame spiral and didn’t want to play anymore. And damn it, we had a deadline. A deadline, I say!

Holy shit was I wrong.

This story embarrassed me. I was ashamed. When I read the final draft, all I could think was, “Damn Petra, it was worth the time. Can I take my foot out of my mouth now?”

Rather than kick and scream and take the shortcut through Hell, I should have sat in traffic for the extra fifteen minutes, relaxed, and listened to sports talk radio, trusting (hell, knowing) Petra would have dinner and a story ready to go when I got home. She’d also have the house vacuumed, the floors mopped, and the trash out. But I digress.

So when I say I wouldn’t take that short cut through Hell again, I’m not talking about this story. I’m talking about how I reacted to the process of Petra writing it, not realizing the awesomeness that waited at the end. I didn’t want to relive my “Editor Blows His Gasket” moment. Because in the end, and it hurts to admit this, Petra was right and I was…

Fuck, I ain’t gonna say it. I’ll just say Petra was right and her story rocks.

So now that I’ve rambled on for 800 words, here’s a taste of “Knowing the Deal”-

I once saved a man’s life. He had three days to live before a shotgun blast would disintegrate most of his head. Without a second thought, without an ounce of hesitation, I saw how he was going to die and I stopped it.

I should have let him do it. I should have let him eat that motherfucking buckshot when I had the chance. Things would have turned out a whole lot different if I had.

One more night and a wakeup. That’s all that’s left of the three year sentence bestowed upon me by the great state of Missouri. Manslaughter’s what they called it, that’s what I copped to, but that’s a load of bullshit. It was murder, plain and simple, and if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing, except maybe make it a little less quick and a little more painful. But we rarely get second chances in life, so I just need to be satisfied with the outcome. Or at least as satisfied as one can be in this situation, I guess. Bitter, I know, but considering the fucked-up outcome of a seemingly benign decision, I don’t begrudge myself a little cynicism.

Death. I’ve been seeing it since I was a child. My mother was the first. I was ten. I saw her blackened and charcoaled face three days before the fire that took her life broke out and consumed our entire house. She burned to death before I knew what I needed to do to save her. That knowledge kept me up at night for the better part of my teenage life. Nowadays, the only thought that keeps up at night is Panda.

It’s in the flicker of their faces, shimmering back and forth between present and future, life and death. I see that, I know they’ve got some short time of their own and not in the good way. The closer it gets to that third day, the faster the shimmer. Sometimes it’s pretty easy to tell what the deal is. Like my mother. Pretty hard to screw that one up for sure. Some though, well, it’s not so black and white. Like Cissy Shumaker. She was the prettiest girl at St. Anne’s Catholic Montessori School and Orphanage, right up until the day she came to class, her face blue-white and bloated. Her golden locks were dripping and soggy. It didn’t take me long to figure out what I was seeing and I didn’t waste any time letting everyone know, including Cissy. That was last time she sat next to me at lunch, because let’s be honest - predicting the mode of a person’s demise isn’t actually the smartest thing to do, and it doesn’t make you many friends. Three days later she was dead, drowned in the lake behind the school.

It only took a couple of schoolyard beatings to do the trick and after a few black eyes and one broken nose, I got it through my thick skull that people were better off not knowing the deal. I kept my mouth shut for twenty five years. Until Seth. He was my brother-in-law, my best friend. I didn’t think I had any other choice...

Want to read more, don't you? Well, you'll have to order a copy of the book. Go here to place that order.

Also, if you're interested in reading what the others said about the...other stories, you can go here, here, here, and here.

And while you're at it, feel free to Like us on Facebook at the Snutch Labs page.

What You Should Order Right Now

2011-10-20T10:14:00.000-07:00

You've heard me talk about Gene O'Neill before. I won't bore you by repeating the same schtick. The dude is a good writer and one you should check out if you haven't. And why not start out with his latest novella RUSTING CHICKENS.

The write up: Rob McKenna knew all about pain and suffering. As a member of a top secret black ops mission deep inside Pakistan, his Marine Force Recon Unit had a close up and personal tour of Hell on Earth and the horrors that men are capable of doing to one another. When he returned back stateside to Napa, California, Rob was a shadow of his former self, a broken young man left clinging to the tattered fragments of his marriage, his memory, and the rapid decline of his physical and mental health.

Coming back from the war was supposed to be the end of Rob's misery, the start of his new life, but unfortunately Hell had followed him home and the horror and pain had only just begun. Waiting for him where he least expected.

Now that that's out of the way, I've read it and liked it a lot. If you're a fan of not just horror but military thrillers, you'll enjoy this one. It's also got a nice Outer Limits feel to it.

Oh, have I mentioned Gene was nice enough to write the introduction to my novel DEMON? I have? Well, I'll just say it again. Gene was nice enough to write the intro to DEMON. And if you're a big Gene fan and buy everything he writes, that means you also have to buy DEMON to read his awesome intro. Just saying.

Go here to order RUSTING CHICKENS. Go here to order Gene's introduction in DEMON.

Quick Movie Review - True Confessions

2011-10-18T07:41:00.000-07:00

Robert De Niro. Robert Duvall. '50s Crime Noir. L.A. The Black Dahlia murder. How the hell did I miss this one?

Never even heard of this movie until I saw it pop up as available on Netflix streaming. So, when I fired it up, I had no idea what I was getting.

I'm happy to say I wasn't disappointed. It's a slow, thinking movie. Not L.A. Confidential. It's not even a who-dunnit. What it is is a story of two brothers dealing with the corruption and murder and abuse around them. And I found it highly watchable.

Now I'm not saying it's great or even good. I'm not sure what it is. I guess I was just so happy to be watching a movie that paid attention to detail. Had great acting. Smart dialogue. A good script. I can see where some people wouldn't like the ending or the way the murder was resolved. But again, it wasn't about the murder. It's about the brothers and how they deal with the shit around them.

So, I guess I'm going to say I liked it. Yeah, that'll do. I know for sure I appreciated the hell out of it. Wish more movies were made this way today.

A Couple of Things... UPDATED

2011-10-13T20:11:00.000-07:00

***UPDATE*** - Item one below has changed. The pre-order period has been extended through Halloween. So you've got some extra time to save some nickels. That is all.

I know I've been pimping a lot of stuff lately, especially my own stuff. But some stuff is on a finite timeline so I got to work it until my street workers turn on me (which may be soon if I keep talking about myself).

Anyhoo, I need to remind everyone about three things.

1. The hardcover pre-order period for DEMON runs out this weekend. If you don't get your order in, you don't get a copy (unless the publisher is nice enough to print some extras but I wouldn't count on that). Go here if you're interested. Again, I know it's expensive and I appreciate anyone who drops that much money on me. I'm pretty sure you'll be pleased.

2. The pre-order period for TALES FROM THE YELLOW ROSE DINER AND FILL STATION continues. ANNNNDDDD!!!!!!!!! You still get the $6 of KillerCon deal if you order now. So, instead of $30, you get it for $24. But here's the deal, like item number one, the print run will be based on pre-orders. Instead of a timeline, this baby shuts down when sales stop coming in. And those final numbers will be the print run. If you want a copy, I highly recommend picking up one now. Remember, you're not charged for the pre-order. You're basically reserving your copy. Payment is due when the book is ready to ship.

As an aside, I'd like to also say that my story "Dying of the Light" in this book is the best story I've written, bar none. I'm not afraid to say that. I think you'll agree. But you're going to need to order it to read it. Go here if you're interested.

3. Finally there's the trade paperback of DEMON. It's shipping and if you don't want to throw down the money for the hardcover, I hope you'll at least be willing to check on the soft cover version. Go here to order.

Thanks to any and all who have already ordered any and all of the above. You rock. To the rest: hope you take a risk and thanks in advance.

What You Should Order Right Now

2011-10-12T13:41:00.000-07:00

John Mantooth's collection SHOEBOX TRAIN WRECK is now available for pre-order as a limited edition hardcover from Chizine Press.

The write-up: “The living haunt the dead . . .”

These fifteen genre-bending stories are set against a backdrop of sudden violence and profound regret, populated by characters whose circumstances and longings drive them to the point of no return . . . and sometimes even further. A young girl takes a journey to see what is really hidden within the belly of an ancient water tower. A high school senior learns about defiance on a school bus and witnesses a tragedy that he won’t soon forget. Six survivors in an underground bunker discuss the possibility of Armageddon being an elaborate hoax. A man stumbles from bed to drive a bus down lonely roads, collecting passengers who’ve lost their way in the night-shrouded heartland of America. And in the title story, a former train conductor must confront the ghosts of his past while learning that it’s not the dead who haunt the living, but the other way around.

Traversing the back roads of the south and beyond, these stories probe the boundaries of imagination, taking the reader to the fringes of a society where the world looks different, and once you visit, you won’t ever be the same.

So, if that's not enough, let me add that John's a great writer. The kind of writer you want to hate because they're so damn good. And I can honestly say that each of the stories in this collection are good. Most are great. In a lot of collections, there are always a stinker or two. Not here, amigo.

Remember, this is for the limited edition hardcover. Print run of 150. The usual bells and whistles in terms of internals and art work. So the price may be high but it's worth it.

Go here to place your order.

Luck. Runs. Out.

2011-10-10T23:03:00.001-07:00

Cuz I'm not afraid to admit I still like these guys.

<br><br><br>If

If this song doesn't make you want to fight...or write a novel, you got no soul.

KillerCon Interviews

2011-10-06T23:20:00.000-07:00

Gardner Goldsmith was kind enough to interview me and Snutch Labs (at least 2/3rds of us) about DEMON and TALES FROM THE YELLOW ROSE DINER AND FILL STATION at the recent KillerCon 3. If you're interested in checking them out, go here. Jump to about the ten minute point to hear me in all my glory. The Snutch interview follows directly.

For You Amazons...

2011-10-05T10:03:00.000-07:00

So, I know some people out there only buy their books, movies, etc, online through Amazon. I understand that. Makes sense on a security level. You trust Amazon. Got it.

Which makes me happy to announce to you Amazons that DEMON and BLOOD SPRING are available for purchase through your favorite website. Buy, buy, buy.

Oh, I should mention there are only six copies of BLOOD SPRING left in stock. There may or may not be another print run. So, if you've been holding off, might want to grab a copy while you can. Hell, why not order both? Start your Erik Williams Collection the right way!

Quick Movie Review - Conan O'Brien Can't Stop

2011-10-03T14:32:00.000-07:00

It had it moments of hilarity. But wow, talk about a lot of navel gazing. I'm a Conan O'Brien fan and even I kind of started to hate him near the end. I mean, it's hard to feel sorry for a rich guy waiting for his new show to start after getting fired from his old one. Yeah, tough life. Don't get me wrong, what NBC did was bullshit. But it wasn't like he was going to end up on the street.

What You Should Order Right Now

2011-09-30T11:41:00.000-07:00

Come on, you knew I was going to rec my own stuff eventually. Especially now that the trade paperback is shipping. Picked up my author copies at KillerCon and couldn't be happier with how they came out. A truly great looking book. Hopefully, all of you will like the stuff in between. And if you're truly interested, the limited edition hardcover is up for pre-order. The final print run of these will be determined by pre-order numbers. So, it could end up being VERY collectible.

And we can't forget about this one. The KillerCon special of $6 off ends today. Tomorrow, you'll have to pay $30 for the signed limited edition hard cover. So, what are you waiting for. For more info on the book, check out the website. To order, go here.

Tales from The Yellow Rose Diner and Fill Station Blurb Rodeo

2011-09-29T11:15:00.000-07:00

Just in case you want to know what people think before pre-ordering:

“These stories, spinning out from a simple question asked in a lonely diner, move from horrific to heartbreaking with such grace that it left me breathless. Tales from The Yellow Rose Diner and Fill Station is a stunning piece of work from an extremely talented group of young writers.”

–John Rector, author of The Cold Kiss, The Grove, and Already Gone.

“Take warning: Tales from The Yellow Rose Diner and Fill Station isn’t what you’d call popcorn horror. No way, amigo. This roadside joint’s made of wood and glass, nailed up shadows and curtains of smoke, and the people inside it damn sure aren’t the kind you’ll find in the latest teen-scream feature. They’re the real scuffed-down American deal, and their stories cut both to the bone and the heart. In other words you’ll want to keep your eye on these folks as you belly up to the bar. And keep your eye on the writers who created them, too–Erik Williams, John Mantooth, Kim Despins, Sam W. Anderson, Petra Miller, and Kurt Dinan. They’ve done good work here, and if you’re thirsty for a double-shot of horror and noir you ought to grab this one. I’m glad I did.”

–Norman Partridge, author of Dark Harvest

“Tales from The Yellow Rose Diner and Fill Station is more than just a collection of great dark stories woven together with a clever framing device. It’s an introduction to some fiercely talented new voices in macabre fiction. It will take you on a tour of human emotions wrapped in edgy tales that ignore traditional genre conventions and bounderies. What are you waiting for? You should have started reading it already!”

– Ray Garton, author of Trailer Park Noir and Meds

“The Yellow Rose Diner and Fill Station is a great place for people-watching, especially if you’re fascinated by strangers with dark, sensational secrets. This roadside eatery offers pitch black stories of horror and crime, many with a supernatural twist. The writing is top-notch in every instance: the emotional depth and visceral chills of these six original tales will doubtless earn their authors many new fans.”

–Norman Prentiss, author of Invisible Fences

“Tales from The Yellow Rose Diner and Fill Station demonstrates that, in the hands of a group of talented and ambitious writers, the mosaic novel can deliver a series of short, sharp shocks to the reader. The characters in these stories struggle with the consequences of their choices, trying to find some way out of the corners into which they’ve boxed themselves. When the supernatural occurs, it does so as an expression of the characters’ deepest selves, a further complication of their situations. Grim and gritty, the stories collected and connected here mark their writers as ones to watch, closely, at that. Be careful, though: their teeth are sharp, and they bite.”

–John Langan, author of House of Windows

“The stories in Tales From The Yellow Rose Diner And Fill Station are all about the impact of really bad decisions. Stupid decisions, panicked decisions, and decisions that seem like perfectly good ones, even noble ones, until you realize that you’re missing a crucial bit of information. All six of the authors pull their own weight and deliver killer stories…which is good, because otherwise I’m sure it would be awkward for the one who screwed up. I can only imagine the humiliation if somebody were kicked out of Snutch Labs.”

–Jeff Strand, author of Fangboy and Wolf Hunt

“Violent criminals, desperate men, vengeful women, shocking secrets, and really bad coffee – what more could anyone possibly want? Tales from The Yellow Rose Diner and Fill Station blew me away and the writers responsible for this excellent collection of interlocking stories need to be commended. Without a doubt one of the best multi-authored collaborations I’ve ever read. Highly recommended!”

–Gord Rollo, author of The Jigsaw Man and Valley Of the Scarecrow

"One of the things that struck my core the hardest about the six tales – and the carrythrough story – is the subtle but nonetheless overwhelming sense of despair that permeates nearly all the tales, a despair born of a bad conscience, a bad conscience born from sins of omission. Every story in this anthology beautifully illustrates Faulkner’s claim that the only type of fiction worth writing is that which deals with “… the human heart in conflict with itself.”

-Gary A. Braunbeck, from his Introduction to Tales from the Yellow Rose Diner and Fill Station

Go here to pre-order.

Worth Your Time and Money - Sinister Grin Press

2011-09-27T13:18:00.000-07:00

So recently Shane McKenzie (and Travis Tarpley, who I did not get a chance to talk to much) decided to start up a small press. It's name: Sinister Grin Press. It's logo:

Pretty badass, huh?

Anyway, so Shane started this press and signed some pretty big names and made a public announcement and sponsored a party at KillerCon and and and...

What I'm saying is, Shane came out guns blazing.

Now I've been around the small press for a few years now. I've seen, I think, a hundred thousand different start-ups come out the same way. Sign some big names, catchy logo, cool book ideas. Guess how many are still around?

So I watched with a wary eye. I supported him. Hoped for the best. But I wanted to hear his thoughts. His plans. His dreams. Basically, I wanted him to prove me and my biased opinion on start-ups wrong.

I got a chance to talk to Shane about exactly that at KillerCon. I didn't ask about his dreams or anything. I asked him what his plan was. And you know what, he's got a pretty good fucking plan. Better yet, he's putting out some fucking great looking books.

I won't go into details but I asked many a question and Shane was more than willing to give many a answer. All and all, I came away from KillerCon knowing, not thinking, Sinister Grin Press will not only succeed but will be a major player in small press horror in a few short years.

Anyway, I've rambled enough. Head over to their website and check out what's available now and what's to come. You'll be happy you did.

Tales from The Yellow Rose Diner and Fill Station Now Available for Pre-Order

2011-09-26T14:21:00.000-07:00

***KILLERCON SPECIAL: Because we want to keep the party going. If you made it to KillerCon and didn't get your pre-order in, you can order before October 1st, and save $6 off of the retail price of $30. If you know someone who was at KillerCon but couldn't make it, you can take advantage of this offer. If you wish you'd made it to KillerCon, you can take advantage of this offer. So take advantage of it already.***

Book is expected in stock on December 1, 2011. NO money is needed to reserve your book. When this title is available, you will receive an email with info on how to purchase your book.

SNUTCH LABS PRESENTS: TALES FROM THE YELLOW ROSE DINER AND FILL STATION

by Erik Williams, John Mantooth, Kim Despins, Sam W. Anderson, Petra Miller, and Kurt Dinan,

Limited Edition Hardcover

WHAT IS THE WORST THING THAT YOU’VE DONE

At a lonely roadside diner, six patrons will answer this very question.

Haunted by choices they made in the past—choices bearing tragic and devastating consequences—these lost souls are forced to relive events that forever changed their lives. In the Yellow Rose’s booths, you will meet…

…A photographer, whose quest to get the perfect photo leads him to witness life-altering depravity…

…A drunk driver, whose trail of lies lead to a dark secret…

…A girl who discovers that some gypsy fortune tellers are not frauds, and that dark magic is very real…

…A psychiatrist, whose plan to play mind games with a bigoted patient has dangerous consequences…

…A convict, whose ability to recognize impending death in the faces of those he meets leads to a devastating discovery…

…A teenager, whose self-destructive efforts to rebel against her squeaky-clean image spawn frightful results…

Welcome to The Yellow Rose Diner and Fill Station, where the menu offers generous helpings of human slavery, murder, bigotry, promiscuity, and death.

A dark, mosaic novel from the minds of Snutch Labs.

Erik Williams – Dying of the Light

John Mantooth – This is Where the Road Ends

Kim Despins – Doshalò

Sam W. Anderson – Hate Crimes and Therapy over Creamed Chipped Beef

Petra Miller – Knowing the Deal

Kurt Dinan – The Darkness Game

Limited Hardcover Edition

240 pages
Fully-illustrated
Signed by all the authors and numbered
Final print run determined by pre-orders

And hey, while you're at it, check out the official YELLOW ROSE website.

Five Reasons to Go to KillerCon

2011-09-20T22:14:00.000-07:00

So I'm off for KillerCon tomorrow. If you're thinking about going but still aren't sure, even at this late hour, here are five reasons you should attend:

1. DEMON will officially be available. That's right, DEMON is launching at KillerCon.

2. TALES FROM THE YELLOW ROSE DINER AND FILL STATION will officially be up for pre-order. Yep, you guessed it, those attending KillerCon will get a sweet deal if they pre-order while at the convention.

3. Snutch Labs. Although Kurt Dinan can't make it, John Mantooth, Kim Despins, Sam W. Anderson, Petra Miller, and yours truly will be. Hell, we'll even be participating in a panel about...writing groups. So, what more could you want?

4. Those other people attending. I mean, you know, people like Jack Ketchum, Edward Lee, Jonathan Maberry, Ray Garton, Gene O'Neill, Gord Rollo, Weston Ochse, Nate Southard, Deadite Press, Cutting Block Press, Bad Moon Books, Jeremy Wagner, Benjamin Kane Ethridge and more, and more, and more. Oh, and the legendary William F. Nolan.

5. Me. I mean, do I really need to say more?

Quick Movie Review - Due Date

2011-09-20T08:48:00.000-07:00

Other than Robert Downey Jr. punching the kid in the stomach, I didn't laugh much. Way too predictable, even for a comedy. Meh.

DEMON - Hardcover Pre-Order Period

2011-09-16T18:55:00.000-07:00

So here's the deal: there's going to be a hardcover of DEMON. It's now available for pre-order. The fact is the final number of hardcovers will be based on the pre-order numbers. So, for example, five cats order it, there'll be five hard covers. Period. That's pretty rare.

If you're interested and want a hard cover, this is your one and only chance to get it. The price: $55.00. Yeah, bit pricey. But think of it this way, there won't be an infinite amount out there. It'll be a signed limited edition in the strictest sense of the word. If you're a collector, this is the copy for you.

Anyway, hope you pluck down a copy for yourself. Go here to order.

Quick Movie Review - Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps

2011-09-15T08:26:00.000-07:00

I guess my first question is why this movie was ever made? I mean, did we really need it? Other than to take advantage of telling a tale around the financial crisis of 2008 with an already established film icon (Gekko), I can't for the life of me figure out why anyone thought this was a good idea.

My second question is Eli Wallach is still alive? I thought he died years ago.

Third question: money never sleeps? No way. Stupid sub-title. It should have been called WALL STREET: WE'LL CONTINUE TO FIND WAYS OF FUCKING UP YOUR WORLD WHILE WE MAKE OURS RICHER

Anyway, pretty forgettable movie. Had some interesting moments but not enough to make it a repeat viewer. I didn't hate it. Didn't like it. Kind of like bland oat meal. First couple of bites go down easy but then you want to toss the whole bowl in the trash.

Oh...Oh, What's That...Is That More Cover Art?

2011-09-10T23:29:00.000-07:00

Coming Real Damn Soon.......

DEMON - Chapter Two

2011-09-06T13:11:00.000-07:00

Chapter Two:

The Man from Langley

Mike Caldwell wiped sweat from his brow and checked his watch. Sunrise had come and gone and his target still hadn’t shown up. The temperature was already eighty-five degrees and he didn’t want to be out in the open much longer. He lifted his binoculars and looked on the market four stories below him in Basra’s commercial district of Ashar.

Where are you, Anwar? Mike thought as he scanned the faces of the merchants setting up shop for the day.

Anwar al-Sahd, a local rug seller and moneyman for a Shiite death squad operating in Basra, was late for work. British intel had identified him as the bridge between the death squad and Iranian intelligence operatives in the area. A banker, so to speak. The Iranians deposited and Anwar transferred it to the people with the proper motivation. Mike hated bankers worse than terrorists. Terrorists at least did their dirty work. Bankers like Anwar were slimy and ran away when the shit hit the fan. No honor in people like that, no matter what the cause.

And he was late, which pissed Mike off even more. He sat on the roof of a dilapidated Basra hotel and waited because his boss in Langley wanted him to punch Anwar’s card for helping coordinate a suicide bomb run on a British SAS safe house for special operators.

“Why can’t the Brits snuff him out?” Mike had said when given his orders. “It was their people.”

“Because we owe them one,” Glenn Cheatum, the Deputy Director of Central Intelligence for Operations, had said. “And the Brits want to stay removed after putting down that IED warehouse a few weeks ago. They’re not officially in country remember.”

“Must maintain the PR even if you want revenge, huh?”

“Stow it, Mike, and do your job.”

“It’s bitch work.”

“It’s killing and it’s what you’re good at.”

Mike let the memory go as he wiped sweat from the gaskets around the binos’s lenses before scanning the market once more.

“Where are you, you little bastard?”

Probably long gone. Maybe he made the Brits surveilling him. Maybe the British intelligence was shit.

Then Mike found him. He recognized him easily from the surveillance photos he’d studied the night before. Anwar was short and round and had a wispy beard only a goat could appreciate. He rode into the market on a fire engine red Moped with flames painted on the front and a fresh pile of rugs strapped to the back. For an asshole banker, he had a sense of style. Or humor, depending how you looked at it.

Mike pushed-up to a crouched position, slung the binos over his shoulder and hot-footed it across the roof to the stairwell. Inside, he patted the dust from his clothes. He wore a pair of khaki cargo pants, black tee shirt under a tactical vest, and a pair of polarized Oakleys. Although Mike had a dark tan, he couldn’t pass for an Arab. So, instead, he’d try to pass for a government contractor.

As he descended the stairwell, Glenn’s words echoed around his head. “It’s killing and it’s what you’re good at.”

Mike couldn’t argue that fact. Someone else would have sniped Anwar from the roof. But a rifle shot would scare the crowd in the market. A panic would follow, maybe even an angry mob, and walking out of the hotel wouldn’t be easy. A silenced shot up close would have still put him in an exposed position from street-level. Guns attracted attention pretty damn fast and Mike didn’t want attention. Instead, he planned to be mobile before and after, in a position where he could hit and walk away. This required getting up close and personal to minimize attention. Not a lot of people could handle that kind of kill.

The trip down the stairwell and out onto the street took about a minute. Mike didn’t rush. Anwar should still be setting up shop for the day. Plenty of time.

He would have preferred to take care of the banker at his residence but the guy had a rotating home. The Brits failed to keep up with him and quit, choosing to monitor him at Ashar. It seemed the only place he was guaranteed to be was in the market selling his damn rugs.

Once out on the street, Mike cleared the area around him with quick glances, making sure no one watched or followed him. The chances he would walk into a set-up were slim but the time he didn’t act with caution was the time they found his severed head in a gutter.

He didn’t see anyone ghosting him and no one on the street seemed interested. The windows in the surrounding buildings were clear. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Mike turned and headed into the outdoor market. As soon as he was within shouting distance, merchants barked at him, peddling their goods from their canopied booths, trying to entice him with cheap offers on everything from cigarettes to pirated movies to frankincense. Mike ignored them, pushing through the growing crowd of shoppers.

His eyes locked on Anwar, standing in his booth, flopping rugs down on tables. Mike side-stepped around an old man arguing about the price of dates. From his pocket he pulled a Spyderco Calypso knife, flipped the three-inch blade out, and held it against his thigh away from Anwar’s eye line.

As Mike neared, a customer walked up before him and grabbed a rug and started haggling.

Shit, Mike thought. He’d had Anwar to himself. Now he had to hope he’d get another chance before more customers showed up. If that happened, he’d probably have to back-off and wait for the crowd to die down. Or risk a pistol shot. But as the crowd grew, the chances of escaping after such a hit would diminish.

Mike slowed and turned to the booth next to the rug merchant’s. He feigned interest in some canteens and listened to Anwar argue for several minutes.

With a quick glance over his shoulder, he saw Anwar hand the rug to the customer, accept cash, and then the man was on his way. Mike didn’t waste anytime, turning and heading for the booth.

Anwar motioned for him to come closer, to see his beautiful rugs. Mike smiled as he reached the booth, three feet of table separating him and Anwar.

“You speak English?” Mike said.

“Of course, of course.” Anwar slapped a rug in front of him. “Interested in a rug are you? Something for your beautiful wife or girlfriend? Maybe you have many girlfriends, a young man like you.”

Anwar laughed at his own joke and patted his gut.

Mike mimicked the jollity. “Can’t tie me down with just one. But it gets expensive, you know?”

“A man can never have enough money for the amount of mistresses he requires.”

Again Anwar laughed like he’d just told the funniest joke in the world. Mike only chuckled.

“A man like you, though, has much money, yes? Strong, rich contractor.”

Mike looked at down at his clothes and back to Anwar. “That obvious, huh?”

“I see you contractors here all the time. Blackwater, yes? Or whatever you call it these days. The clothes you all wear so similar it is like a uniform.”

Mike smiled. It was just the reaction he’d hoped for when choosing the clothes. The other merchants would remember seeing a contractor. The description they might give, though, would pretty much match anyone in the area working private security.

“So, my friend, what kind of rug would you like?”

Mike shrugged. “I really don’t know anything about them. What makes a good rug?”

“Easy, my friend, easy.” Anwar flipped over a red rug and pointed at the threads on the back. “Do you see how tight these stitches are?”

Mike leaned down, his nose about two inches over the rug. “I guess so.”

He said it loud enough to hear but low enough to draw Anwar down toward him. He moved his knife hand up to his hip at the same time. The images of the Brits Anwar helped kill flashed through his head.

Anwar, his head about a foot away and just slightly higher than Mike’s, said, “The tighter the stitches and the more threads there are means the rug is of top quality. This rug-”

Mike’s hand flashed up, sliced the blade across the bottom of Anwar’s neck, and was back at his side in under a second. Anwar’s throat opened up and blood rained onto the rug.

“God save the Queen, Anwar.”

Mike retracted the blade, slipped the knife in his pocket, and walked away from the booth. He glanced over his shoulder. Anwar had dropped to his knees, his head resting on the rug in his blood. No one had noticed yet.

Around the corner outside the market, the first yells of excitement and surprise caught up to him. He waited until he was a mile up the road to dump the tactical vest and Oakleys and binos in a trash heap. Then he pulled off the black shirt, revealing a gray shirt underneath, soaked through with sweat.

Mike hailed a cab and took it to his hotel, the new Sheraton in Basra proper. It was a ten minute trip.

Inside the hotel room, the air conditioner hummed. Chilly, like an icebox left open. It felt good. Next to the bed sat his half-full bottle of whiskey. Mike stared at it for a long moment before turning away.

In the bathroom, he washed his face and hands. The water was tepid. He tasted salt washing off his forehead and cheeks as the water passed over his lips. Then he straightened up, his back aching. His eyes lingered on his reflection as he dried his face.

“It’s killing and it’s what you’re good at.”

Mike looked away. He pulled his knife out and went to wash the blade when he noticed his right hand shaking.

Anwar’s face flashed in his head.

Get it together, he thought and set the knife down. His eyes closed, he slowed his breathing.

Anwar’s face flashed again, this time with his throat slit and blood pouring out.

Mike clenched his hand into a fist and squeezed until his nails dug into his palm. When the pain crept into his wrist he let go. Opening his eyes, Mike peeked at his hand again.

It still shook.

Fuck it, he thought.

Mike walked out of the bathroom and sat on the bed. He poured a glass of whiskey and downed it. Poured and downed another.

He looked at his hand. The shaking had died down to a tremor. Mike drank one more glass.

The shaking stopped.

Mike set the glass down and buried his face in his hands.

“It’s killing and it’s what you’re good at.” The words rang in his head again and again. They were the same ones Glenn had said when he’d first proposed the job. They were the ones he said every time Mike started to show signs of regret for taking his current assignment.

“I want you to be the right hand of God,” Glenn had said in his office in Langley, Virginia three months before.

“And who’s God?” Mike had said.

“I am as far as you’re concerned.”

Mike had chuckled but Glenn only fixed him with dark brown eyes that appeared almost black. The dead eyes as they were known around the Agency.

“Well, what the hell does that mean, Glenn?”

“It’s a violent world and I hate bureaucracy. Station Chiefs are necessary but a lot of them are looking out for themselves politically. You know, they want to climb the ladder, get a job like mine. But I’m looking for results. So, I want an operator who reports to me and me only. One who performs special tasks as necessary. You up for it?”

“You mean real case work?” Mike had been a company man for over fourteen years and in the field for thirteen. Most of that time he’d done muscle work. Never had he worked a case or real contact on his own. He’d never been a spy. “Stuff I can run to ground, cut out the red tape?”

Now Glenn chuckled. “No, Mike, you’re a cleaner. And there’s a lot of messes out there need a good dose of bleach and disinfectant.”

Mike focused on his shoes.

“You’re a killer, Mike.” Glenn held up a thick file. “Years of it. A specialist. That’s what I need right now and that’s what you’re good at. Take it or I’ll put you behind a desk the rest of your career.”

“You want me to be your hit man.”

Glenn had responded with a smile. Mike didn’t say anymore and accepted because he knew he was good at it. And he’d forgotten how to do anything else lives ago.

He went into deep covert mode soon after. Off the reservation mode. The only one in the CIA who knew he was in Iraq was Glenn. Making sure he kept his identity under wraps and the Station Chief in Baghdad in the dark was a major concern for Mike. If his cover got blown, he’d quickly find himself with a one-way ticket out of Iraq and into a federal prison awaiting trial for being an illegally sanctioned assassin. Glenn would be right next to him, treading water in shit’s creek, after his hearing before Congress.

Mike smirked. Thinking about it now, it didn’t sound like such a bad fate.

He downed a bottle of water then called Glenn over his encrypted cell phone.

“It’s done,” Mike said.

“Good. Any issues?”

“None. It went smoothly.”

“The Brits will be pleased.”

Mike eyed what remained in the bottle on the nightstand. “I’m going to lay low for a few days.”

Mike lifted the bottle and started to pour.

“Not so fast.”

Mike winced. Just a day, he thought. The mouth of the bottle hovered over the glass. He hadn’t poured a drop yet.

“Yes?” Mike said.

“Something’s happened at a construction site outside An Nasiriyah. A bunch of people are dead.”

“Sounds like work for the military and national police.”

“I want you there.”

Mike rubbed his forehead. A mammoth skull-splitter lit off its engines. “Why?”

“Because there are some interesting reports coming in over the military traffic but one doesn’t jibe with the next. From the way it sounds, though, could be IRG. So I want first-hand intel in case the Iranians are operating that far in country. Since you’re within driving distance, get your butt up there and take a look.”

“You want me to do actual work, Glenn?” Mike set the bottle down and screwed the cap back on. “No one to kill up there? I’m shocked.”

“Keep running your smart ass mouth and I’ll see what I can arrange to disappoint you.”

Stupid, Mike thought and bit his tongue. You’ve got a chance here, don’t ruin it.

“I’ll need to be official for them to let me on site,” Mike said after a few seconds.

“Use the alias. The troops on site won’t screen the i.d. with Baghdad Station. Especially if you wave it around like you’re important.”

He’d almost forgotten about the alias Glenn had given him; a full set of papers and identification for Jeremiah Hosselkus, a fake CIA field agent. So Mike would be a CIA operative pretending to be a CIA operative. He’d thought it silly at the time. After all, why would you impersonate something you already were?

Yet here I am, being told to do exactly that, he thought. Because I’m a rogue fucking killer.

“I’ll leave within the hour,” Mike said.

So, interested in reading the rest? Go here to pre-order your copy now.

DEMON - First Chapter

2011-09-03T09:45:00.000-07:00

So, you're not sure you want to drop $18 bucks on my novel DEMON. Fair enough, especially in this economy. I understand. You need a sample. A taste. A little to get you hooked.

Consider it done.

Over the next few days, I'm going to post the first couple of chapters of DEMON right here. If you read them and still aren't interested, I'll still understand (although I won't quite believe it).

But I have a feeling you will be interested. That $18 for a quality trade paperback won't be too much at all. If you decide you do want to pre-order, click here.

Without further delay, here's the first chapter.

Chapter One:

Site R91

“I got a work stoppage here,” Hank Prince yelled into his cell phone as two US Army Apache helicopters buzzed overhead en route to An Nasiriyah.

“What?” Jameson yelled on the other end. “You’re almost done with that branch.”

“Almost don’t mean shit in this case. One of the backhoes dug up the entrance to some goddamn tomb three hours ago.”

“Tomb? Big deal. Move the stiffs and get your ass back on schedule.”

Hank rubbed his forehead. “A tomb, a crypt, a buried temple. I don’t know what the fuck it is exactly but it’s got the government pukes all kinds of spun up.”

“Why’d you dig it up then?”

“We found it by accident, damn it. It’s twenty feet below the desert and right where the tee section is supposed to go. And no, ground penetrating didn’t show shit. Right now, I’m losing two man-hours for every hour of standstill, Jameson, and I can’t afford a standstill.”

“I can’t either or did you forget who pays your salary? Who stopped you?”

“The Department of Antiquities shut us down hard.”

“Why are they involved?”

“Because we’re close to some place called Ur. Anywhere near an ancient site and they have to be involved.”

“And there’s no way around it?”

“All I can dig is one hundred feet to either side but we’re screwed if we can’t get the tee section in place and the tomb is in the damn way.”

Jameson yelled and Hank could almost picture his boss’s jowls jiggling and spit flying. He’d seen the reaction dozens of times before.

Hank tuned him out after the fifth expletive, his attention lingering instead on the growing excavation under the tall Ingersoll Rand towers pumping out eight thousand watts of light. Government officials had already come and cordoned off the pit with yellow CAUTION tape and left with the exception of one person. Control of the site now rested in the hands of the lead archeologist from the Department of Antiquities.

Hank shifted his gaze and chewed on the inside of his cheek. In the east, the first rays of sunlight crested the horizon. Another hot one on the way, no doubt about it.

“Look,” Hank said, “I didn’t bury the fucking thing and I sure as hell didn’t mean to find it. Just pray it’s the burial place of some fifth century nobody and not Gilgamesh’s tomb because if it is this branch of the sewer line ain’t ever getting done.”

Hank hung up and swore under his breath. He hated cross-global leadership, especially when the asshole in charge was sitting in an air conditioned office in Houston without any idea of the ground here. The whole situation was screwed-up beyond his control. Dealing with pencil-pushers like Jameson was the last thing he needed right now.

He slipped the cell phone into his pocket and looked at the pit. Around it stood Hank’s third shift of diggers and fitters, doing nothing and getting paid for it. He took a deep breath of desert air and thought of contingency plans. All he could come up with was busy work and figured it was better than accomplishing nada.

“Get the southern line prepped.” Hank’s voice rose with each word. “And get the interceptors staged. This job won’t be on hold forever.”

The diggers and pipe fitters started moving but not fast enough.

“Let’s go!” Hank clapped and stomped around the hole, shooing people to work.

Satisfied his workers finally got the picture, Hank walked to the edge of the pit. At the bottom stood the government archeologist next to the slab. The man who’d shut him down without a moment of hesitation.

“Well,” Hank said. “How we looking, Nouri?”

Nouri al-Hasad craned his head, his dark eyes glinting with what Hank thought was pure joy. “This is amazing.”

“Don’t look so happy. How long?”

“Ten days, at least.”

“You got to be shitting me.” Hank knew Nouri from a previous dig when they’d uncovered a mass grave near Baghdad. The guy had never been anything but serious. A pure academic nerd with no sense of Western-humor. If he said ten days, he meant it. “I don’t have that kind of time.”

Nouri smiled. “We need to be careful with this find. I have never seen anything like it before.”

“It’s a stone slab covering a tomb. Big deal.”

Nouri climbed a ladder out of the pit. Fast. Like a monkey scaling limbs to the top of a tree. His spry frame stood next to Hank a moment later. He pointed at the slab, hand trembling. Then Hank noticed his whole body had a slight tremor moving up and down it.

“It is not stone.”

“Sure as hell looks like stone to me.”

“I assure you it is not.”

Hank frowned. “Well then what the hell is it? Metal?”

“I do not know. And I have never seen the language carved on the surface. With its proximity to Ur, I hope for your sake more is not under there. This could be just the tip of...how do you say...the ice cube.”

“Iceberg.”

“Oh, yes, that is it.” Nouri held a small carving the size of his palm in his latex-gloved hand. “And look at this. Remarkable.”

Hank shrugged. It was the front profile of some beast’s maw with long fangs. “Looks like the carving of a wolf’s head.”

“Not a wolf.”

“Then what?”

“I do not know.”

Hank shook his head. “Look, I got a deadline, Nouri. You know, to get sanitation up and running in this armpit.”

Nouri chuckled. It was the first time Hank had ever heard him laugh and it caused his blood pressure to bump up.

“I see your affection for my country has not changed,” Nouri said.

“I got two daughters I miss, a son who needs his ass kicked, and a wife who has earned a big old pickle tickle. I care about them and the money I get if I finish this job on time. I make it happen and I get to go home, see them, and then get another job making more money. Your mysterious non-stone and unknown language is costing my wallet some weight and my wife some loving.”

Nouri laughed even more. “Yes but you have something truly priceless down there.”

“I’m glad everything I say is suddenly funny.”

“Think of the story you will tell your children.”

“Oh, sure, I can see it now. My kids sitting around the fire as I described the amazing tomb that cost them their college tuition.” Hank kicked sand into the hole. “My time is worth more than that fucking slab and whatever’s underneath it.”

Hank stuffed his hands in his pockets and closed his eyes. “You’re sure it’ll take at least ten days?”

“Absolutely.”

“And there’s nothing you can do for me? Can’t look the other way just this once?”

Nouri shook his head.

Hank looked from the pit to Nouri and back. “Shit!”

“I am sorry, Mr. Prince.”

“Yeah.” Hank’s voice was softer, accepting defeat. “Me, too.”

The ground trembled, shifting the sand and causing his feet to sink about half an inch. Hank turned from Nouri to see a flatbed backing toward the pit. Loaded on it was the big tee section for the sewer line.

“Hey,” Hank yelled at the guy signaling the truck to back-up. “It’s not going in. Get it off site.”

As the flatbed backed, the signalman put his hands up to brake and then gestured to pull forward. When the driver shifted into drive the rear right tires dug into the ground and spun. The driver gunned the engine, spinning the wheels faster and digging the flatbed in deeper. Sand flew in broad arcs into the pit.

The signalman yelled and waved his arms for the driver to stop. Hank took a step toward the flatbed, ready to chew some ass, when the ground around the rear wheels buckled and sank a few feet.

Before Hank could move anymore, the sunken earth collapsed another four feet and then split. Tremors knocked Hank off balance and to his knees as a crevice opened in the desert, racing like a snake from the back of the flatbed to the pit. The truck teetered for a moment before the back dropped into the new fissure. The chains holding the tee section stretched taught and one of them snapped, cracking like thunder.

A chain link the size of a man’s fist screamed over Hank’s head and collided with something soft and wet. Hank glanced over his shoulder. Nouri was on the ground, his body twitching and pumping blood, turning the sand crimson. The link had ripped the right side of his forehead off. Skull and brain jutted away from his smashed cranium.

Hank took two steps toward Nouri when his workers yelled to run away. He turned back in time to see the other chains snap. Hank dove onto his chest but didn’t take his eyes off the pipe, even as another link sliced the air overhead.

The tee section rocked, tilted, and fell into the crevice, sliding toward the pit on a wave of sand. The massive weight carried it over the edge. It fell in what seemed like slow motion. The bottom of the tee struck the slab covering the tomb a moment later. What sounded like concrete snapping rose up and reverberated throughout the site.

Hank pushed up and once again tried to get to Nouri, praying silently the poor bastard was still alive. As he did, his stomach cramped and his chest tightened. He dropped to his knees, attempting to breathe but failing to force air into his lungs. It was like a ton of weight pressed on him, concentrating directly on his sternum. Then his vision quit and he saw only black.

Just as quickly, the pressure on his chest eased. Hank sucked in a mouthful of air just before his muscles started twitching. Rocking over onto his side, he broke into convulsions, foam frothing out of his mouth. His insides burned.

-Images of his wife and children flashed in his mind. They melted in fire and smoke. They screamed and stabbed each other with kitchen knives. The kids ripped flesh from their mother’s arms and legs with their teeth-

The convulsions stopped. His muscles relaxed. The fire abated within. Hank managed shallow breaths as the grotesque images dissolved.

He started to think the pain had subsided when a headache hit him so hard he screamed. His fists clenched sand and his back arched toward heaven.

Then the pain faded. The headache retreated as fast as it had attacked. His vision returned; the pale light of the moon above fighting with the light of the towers. Everything seemed still and quiet.

Until he heard the screams.

At first, Hank thought they were his own shrieks still echoing around his head. But as they persisted, he realized they were nothing like his anguished cries. These were savage and bloodthirsty and multiple. He heard screams like that once before on a job in Africa when he witnessed two silverback gorillas battle for dominance, beating one another to a bloody pulp until one had killed the other. Now he heard the same primal screams.

Hank sat up and blinked twice before he could fathom what unfolded around him.

The signalman had the driver of the flatbed on the ground, pummeling him with punch after punch, screaming in triumph. Bone crunched and flesh tore. Then he took his hard hat off and beat the driver in the face with it over and over again until another worker tackled the signalman and stabbed him in the neck with a screwdriver.

Hank’s hand shook as he covered his mouth, trying to keep from puking. He couldn’t form thoughts. His mouth moved but no sound came.

Out of the corner of his eye, two pipe-fitters rolled around in the sand, clawing at faces, snarling like wild beasts. One gained the advantage and pushed his thumbs into the other’s eyes.

This time Hank couldn’t stop from puking, bile and blood spilling down his chest.

Run, he finally managed to think. Now. Run now.

Hank heard what sounded like a hammer smacking a watermelon. Even with the dozens of songs of death around him, this one chilled him to his core. He shivered and turned. Behind him a worker beat another man’s head in with a pipe wrench.

Run now. Hank coughed and vomited more red phlegm. Get up and run!

Hank pushed to his feet. His legs wobbled and his body swayed. Lightheaded, he tried to focus, his blurred vision sharpening with each blink.

All around him the desert bled. Hank had forty-nine men on this shift and everyone one of them engaged in savage murder. They screamed and they killed only to be killed.

Except Hank. He found the strength to move through the carnage. No one paid him any attention. It was as if he didn’t exist, an invisible witness to the slaughter.

Hank shambled, shuffling forward, his body weak and muscles aching. He wanted to run, wanted to at least walk at a brisk pace, but couldn’t find any more energy. His stomach was a sack of worms, all of them wriggling, folding in on themselves. His eyes shifted left and right, expecting at any moment one of his workers would choose him and crush his skull with a hammer or wrench.

Hank made it to his company truck and climbed in. His hands shaking, he managed to pull his keys from his pocket. As he did, a pipe fitter named Julio from the Philippines dragged one of the locals over and smashed his head repeatedly into the truck’s bumper.

Julio was a family man, like him. Working in Iraq and sending money home. All for a better life.

The hollow sound of the skull striking metal distracted Hank and he dropped his keys. He reached down and grabbed them off the mat. When he sat back up, Julio was on the ground, a different worker destroying his face with a heavy-duty C-clamp.

Jesus Christ, he thought.

Hank coughed more blood into his hand and took one more glance at the massacre. As he slipped the key into the ignition and fired up the truck, Hank realized he didn’t know where to go but feared if he didn’t leave now one of them would finally notice him and unleash their fury. Or he might contract whatever had infected them. Either way, he had to go somewhere, anywhere, far away from here.

Basra, he thought. There was a military base there. Camp Bucca. It was the only one in the south still controlled by coalition forces. Everything else had been turned over to the Iraqis.

The screams stopped. Hank surveyed the site, surprised by the sudden silence. No one moved.

He covered his mouth and suppressed a sob and listened to the quiet, hoping he’d hear someone cry out in pain or for help. No one did.

Call for help, he thought but resisted. If it was airborne, he needed to stay ahead of it. Whatever it was, it hadn’t affected him. He had a chance to escape now. Help he could call for later from the road.

Hank shifted into drive. The thought of going to An Nasiriyah crossed his mind but he didn’t trust local doctors or police. No, he wanted to find Americans. Had to find them.

Just get the fuck out of here, he thought and turned toward Basra.

DEMON Officially Up For Pre-Order

2011-09-02T19:42:00.000-07:00

Yeah, buddy. DEMON is officially up for pre-order. As some of you know, this is my first officially published novel. It's been a long time in coming. And now it's almost here. Looks like the shipping date is estimated to be September 15th.

So, what are you buying? Here's the write up:

Mike Caldwell is a CIA assassin dealing with what may be an unstoppable pathogen that turns the infected into primal killing machines. The truth, though, is far scarier. Once he learns what he's actually facing, Mike will wish he was dealing with hundreds of deadly pathogens.

At a remote construction site in Iraq, the ancient prison of the fallen angel Semyaza is unearthed and opened. For the first time in thousands of years, Semyaza is free. Free to move in and amongst the humans he so dearly hates. And Hell follows with him.

Now Mike is on its trail, hunting a demon whose mere presence turns every living thing near it into a weapon of mass destruction. A demon who would love nothing more than to wipe out all of humanity. Both are merchants of death on a collision course.

Yeah, Mike wishes it was just an unstoppable pathogen.

"DEMON -like a hellacious cross between 24, The Exorcist and a videogame. Fast-paced and wicked fun." -Jonathan Maberry, NY Times bestseller and multiple Bram Stoker Award-winning author of THE KING OF PLAGUES and ROT & RUIN

"Some things just won't stay buried...no matter how sanctified the ground. Set amid the turmoil and terror of the present war, a much more ancient battle--the ultimate battle of GOOD versus EVIL in which Man is only a pawn--is resurrected...and God help us all." -P.D. Cacek, multiple Bram Stoker Award-winning author of THE WIND CALLER

There's also a kick-ass intro by Gene O'Neill. Oh, and that sweet cover is by Kip Ayers. It couldn't have come out better, in my opinion.

So, go forth and order. I'm already indebted to all of you for the support you've given my work so far. This one is the biggie, though. Let's light this candle (bonus points to any who can name the movie).

What You Should Order Right Now

2011-09-02T09:42:00.000-07:00

Another Money Run tale by Sam W. Anderson, you say? Why the Hell wouldn't I order it?

Look, I've talked Sam up a few times on this blog. Talked up the Money Run, too. If you haven't checked his work or this bad ass mythos he's created out, you've got either

1. Issues

2. A grudge against Sam

If it's the latter, I completely understand. Sam has that effect on people.

All that aside, do yourself a favor and pick up a copy. It's cheap for a limited edition. It's fun. I can honestly say there's nothing else quite like it. And come on, you're never going to find a book with a longer title. It's worth it for the novelty.

Go here to order your today.

Angry Penguins and Drunken Monkeys

The Yellow Rose is Coming!

The Transformational Power of the Bathroom in Pulp Fiction

Where I Tell You How You Can Help Support This Author

What You Should Order Right Now

Yeah, It's Almost Fourteen-Years-Old but Out of Sight Still Rocks

Film Review Prep: Story vs Plot

How I Break Down A Flick

Where I Tell You Something You Don't Give A Shit About

One of My New Favorite Things

Movie Review - Unknown

Quick Movie Review - The Adjustment Bureau

Documentary Review - The Pixar Story

Documentary Review - Tales from the Script

Movie Review - Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans

TV Movie Review??? Stephen King's Bag of Shit

THE REVEREND'S POWDER Now Available as an E-Book on Amazon

Drive-by Updates

DEMON Now Available as an E-Book on Amazon

Movie Review - The Fighter

My Angels Aren't Pussies

Movie Review - The Killing

Digression - College Football

An Open Letter to Amazon Publishing

Wow, I'm a Daddy Three Times Over

While I Wait for My Twins...

The Prophecy and Quotes

Movie Review - The Prophecy 2

Action Movie Wet Dream

The Crow's Caw reviews The Yellow Rose

On Cults and Publishing

Handy Dandy Cult Checklist

Movie Reviews Going Forward

What You Should Order Right Now

Balancing Salesmanship with Righteous Anger

To Everyone...

Occupy Guy Fawkes

Tales from The Yellow Rose Diner and Fill Station Pre-Orders...

Quick Movie Review - The Social Network

Last Call for DEMON Hardcover

On the Menu - Knowing the Deal

What You Should Order Right Now

Quick Movie Review - True Confessions

A Couple of Things... *UPDATED*

What You Should Order Right Now

Luck. Runs. Out.

KillerCon Interviews

For You Amazons...

Quick Movie Review - Conan O'Brien Can't Stop

What You Should Order Right Now

Tales from The Yellow Rose Diner and Fill Station Blurb Rodeo

Worth Your Time and Money - Sinister Grin Press

Tales from The Yellow Rose Diner and Fill Station Now Available for Pre-Order

Five Reasons to Go to KillerCon

Quick Movie Review - Due Date

DEMON - Hardcover Pre-Order Period

Quick Movie Review - Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps

Oh...Oh, What's That...Is That More Cover Art?

DEMON - Chapter Two

DEMON - First Chapter

DEMON Officially Up For Pre-Order

What You Should Order Right Now

A Couple of Things... UPDATED