Showing posts with label Amanda Palmer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Amanda Palmer. Show all posts

Sunday, November 10, 2013

"Parasite Girls" upcoming release, and Why the Things We Do...

Well, here it is Sunday, and I'm in the Office, trying to organize myself and get ready for another exciting afternoon behind the board for Hershey Bears hockey...can you smell the sarcasm cooking yet?

Oh, I do enjoy the job, but it has its disadvantages. I am hopeful to soon know more about long-term and actual employment, but I have a much more important step to take on Monday.

It's time for a SHAMELESS PLUG:



How about that?

This is the cover for "Parasite Girls," my debut, which comes out on Smashwords as soon as this week. A dream will come true...I will be a published author.

Hold your applause, please, because I want to make sure we can get this done and done right before any of that. My friend Alice will do diligence at getting the final format done tomorrow, and the upload completed. 

Let's hope it goes well. Mitch Bentley is the artist, and you can find out more about his work and services at Atomic Fly Studios.

So, what's it about? In a nutshell, "Parasite Girls" is the story of a burned out journalist named Aidan who is trying to remake himself. He turns up on the doorstep of his old college friend, Mima and they reacquaint. The past is recalled, some of it scary; Aidan soon leans that while on her own, Mima struggles with her past and present.

Two of Mima's closest friends, Sora and Eko are also tagged with an unfair term, the "parasite single." It's a real phrase, used to describe young people who stay at home longer than they "should," and live off their parents.

The point is that's a broad brush and wrong to use on everyone. Aidan knows everyone has a story, and he finds out what theirs is.

Aidan recalls, as do the others, just what never dies despite years and miles that separate people.

I hit on some real aspects of society, and return to a place I once lived. I also have a few things to say about the media which I work in, and also a look at mental illness, and some of its manifestations.

It's a good story, I think, and one that needs telling. I do not touch terribly deeply on some items, because those would be books in themselves. 

The book comes out on Smashwords, here's my profile:

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/torygates

More info there very soon. I also joined an interesting group, the Independent Author Network:

http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/

The landscape of writing and authorship has changed. Actually, it changed a long time ago but we were loath to allow ourselves to think that. The days of being sneered at (and worse) for putting out your own work is no longer a bad thing. It does NOT mean you suck as a writer, or weren't good enough to rate a publishing contract, a book tour, and the top spots on the NY Times Bestseller List and Oprah Winfrey's reading list.

The thing is: this changed a long freaking time ago and we did not know it. Or again, our egos did not let us consider it.

Here is my case study, which I use as a template: about 17 years ago, I conducted an interview with two fellows from New York (by way of Maryland) who were in a folk-rock duo called the Wicomicos. Carmen Yates and Mikel Campbell had been in a rock band in the early 90's, had a record deal, all of that. It didn't work out.

They chose to cut loose from all that, by writing their own songs, producing their own records, touring in a big red van, and getting their own gigs. They did it themselves, made a name for themselves, and produced two very good recordings.

Carmen is in New York, and primarily makes a living producing music for soundtracks, TV commercials and other such projects. He has a new band called Racing Rain. They showed us it could be done.

Self-publishing has taken off with the advances in computer technology. Used to be, you had to pay some company a lot of money to make your books for you. This is called a "Vanity Press." Now the term has changed, and the way this is all done has changed a lot, too.

I have shied away from any company that wants money for me to put my books out. I don't have it, and I wouldn't throw it down the hole. I know of too many horror stories, too many people who were ripped off, too many people whose dreams were stolen by sleazy, unscrupulous operators. Just look at Writer's Beware, and you'll see those stories.

Not to say you can do it all for free, not at all. I've been careful with the money I spend on getting "Parasite Girls" ready. You see the cover? That was my largest expense, I suppose, but still a very reasonable amount, given Mitch's talents and the hours he spent on it.

You do need a killer cover. Get that through your head, folks. I also thank Alice for focusing in on a pivotal scene, the one that captures your imagination (I hope) and also captures the energy, the mania and the madness of each person involved.

Now, back to music for a bit: for years, I saw artists selling their music from the stage. Even those who had record deals did that, cut out the middle man, $15 for the CD, right here, right now? Why the hell not?

Hard to do with books. You can't really tour if you're not known, and the days of that are pretty much over. I am NOT the kind of person that can sit at a table in a bookshop with a stack of poorly-made books with shitty bindings and a generic cover, smiling with the hope that somebody buys my book.

It does not work. You need to engage--you need to show them, not tell them. A bit of fine advice from writer friends about my style years ago.

I am still trying to figure out how to engage with a book that is not a book. I will figure that out.

There are countless bands out there that do it themselves. With no label but the one they form for themselves, a Reverbnation and/or a Facebook page, and the availability of reasonably inexpensive recording gear, they are already on the way. Sure, you're not flying first class (if at all!), you're sleeping in the van, on people's floors, couches, spare beds, at your mom's. You see where I'm going, right? You pay your dues.

The amount of money you make will largely NOT be the millions you dream of. The adulation you expect will be no more than whomever is sitting or standing in front of you. 

But that's not so bad...I recall years of doing Rocky Horror before no more than a couple dozen like-minded crazies, and they appreciated what we did. I played to larger crowds too, and it's nice. Enjoy when you get it. The main thing is what you do to get there.

I have more fun writing and creating my semi-real-world universe than anything else of late. I have a ton more stories of different types that I want to tell because I think I have something you might like. If not, no big deal.

I do not plan to soak you for cash. The price will be reasonable and level with what others are charging. Cool thing is, you don't need an eReader or a Kindle--download, read on your smartphone or your computer. All good.

Suffice to say: the world has changed, and we have to change with it. I am putting "Parasite Girls" out to test the ebook waters, and to introduce myself to the world.

There is no point in waiting for a book deal, or for an agent who understands what I'm trying to do to get me one. I'm going for mine, right fucking now.

Amanda Palmer said in a recent speech (paraphrasing here) that the audience you present to might just be those people in someone's living room, attic, space, etc. How true. I told you about Rocky Horror; I recall doing a demonstration of a series of pieces from a version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame in the loft apartment of the director's friend in New York in '96. Maybe two dozen people there? I don't remember. But you do it, because you love doing it.

I love writing. I love my work in broadcasting. I love to play music. It's fun. To be able to do these things and actually make a living is ideal, and I have had that over the years, so I'm damned lucky.

I am not done yet, either. Parasite Girls is just the start, and I have more to share. I hope to live long enough to not just reap some of the fruits of my labor, but to see how you react to it. That'll be the bigger payoff.

I'll be shamelessly plugging it all on my Facebook, Twitter, Google+ and fuck knows where else. This is what I do.

See ya.

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Book Release Party Idea, Updates and Other Thoughts

Hello once again...long time, no blog!

I have been away from the blogosphere for some time, because honestly my work has taken up my writing/thinking time. At times, I'll get the urge to blog away about stuff, but now I can offer you some updates to my projects, and an idea that I have.

I want to know what you think...

First of all: "Parasite Girls" is on course for release later this year. We have had to push back the date for a couple of reasons. I decided to change where the book will be released...we will go with Smashwords, because of accessible possibilities in the eBook world, and also because...timely payment.

Until we find a way to live w/o money, that's how it goes.

Second, my cover artist is at WorldCon. He has a showing of his works, and I get that. When he returns, we'll see what we have and roll with it from there.

So the book is in effect ready to go, once we get the cover and fix a few other legal things. 

Now: SHAMELESS PLUG #1

http://www.behance.net/torygates

The Behance site has been really useful and I like it a lot. Graphic artists mostly use this site, but it's working for me. Here, you will find two excerpts of "Parasite Girls," plus bits of "The Drifters" and "Time the Healer."

My radio "Air Check" is here, at the "Radio Tracks" link. So you can hear what I've been doing and sounding like of late.

Atop this, demos of the Dharma Fools, and home recordings of my work. This is where things have become a huge stretch for my skill. Writing songs for the stories, rather than using others.

I have to break myself of it, and I am writing and composing in that vein. 

More and more, the followup to "PG" will be "The Drifters: Tales of the Southern Cross." Two demos are here of songs that will make their way into the storyline, and I hope you find them interesting despite their quality.

Bunch of my Pro Tools stuff is obsolete or only accessible when I was at school. I don't have the money for new "toys" or upgrades right now, but what I have in the toolbox works pretty damned well, I'd say.

So far, that appears to be the order...now one of the reasons I'm writing for the stories is the permissions and mechanical licenses required for using other people's lyrics, etc., can be time consuming and expensive. I will have to do it for some songs, but others I'll have to rewrite and fix. Another stretch and challenge for my skills. Needed too, I'll admit.

I did get a very nice, "Yes" from Amanda Palmer. Through her people, I explained that "Time the Healer" involves a character who is a big fan of her music, and some of her songs just fit into a personal, and unusual individual. It helped drive the story.

Well, she (and her people) said it is okay! Thank you! (Bows)

Will not be for a year or more that the story comes out, but it will be better by that time.

So now, I'm thinking of a book release party. My friend Jim Henry did one recently for his new tome of wit & wisdom via Facebook. I then thought about a step further, and after hearing the radio commercials for years, I realized I might have a way to engage my audience for "Parasite Girls."

I wonder if anyone has experience with Gotomeeting.com -- I think I might give that a shot. The idea I have had for a book, any book is to present it and give people a reason to buy it, if they are not sure, or do not know what they're getting.

Selected readings of passages from the book...questions from the live audience, and also from those who message me perhaps via Facebook. One of my songs is in the story, and the DF's perform it, so we could do that live as well, perhaps during the read of that chapter.

We'll put up the link for everyone to see where they can buy the book, and as I say, questions! I will gladly take them, and talk about the story, what else I'm doing.

I think this might be a good way to engage the audience, even if they only stay for a few minutes, they realize this is more than just a dry eBook lost in the shuffle of millions.

What do YOU think? An idea whose time has come? Have you tried this before? Love to know your opinions on that.

I have time to think about it, and I have time to consider how it would work. But I need someone with said experience. So we'll see...so far a few people like the idea.

So there is that...now: SHAMELESS PLUG #2

https://www.facebook.com/ToryGatesMedia?ref=hl

A reminder that here on Facebook is the hub for all my stuff, music, writings, meanderings, and the links that jump you to Behance.net. OK?

Now, SHAMELESS PLUG #3

https://www.facebook.com/events/339757462824950/

The Dharma Fools will play here at ALCHEMY FOR THE EARTH. This takes place on September 21st and 22nd, at Fairy Fresh Farm in Finksburg, MD. Native American, Pagan and other tracks of spirituality will be here to share, there will be drum circles, and music!

The DF's play on Saturday, at 2 pm. We'll do an hour, and then my bassist Dan Shearer's other project Moxy & Mayhem take the stage at 4. It's gonna be a fine time, and I hope you'll get out to see something unique.

We're excited, clearly so we hope we can do the same and stimulate that. So if you're in the MD area, or outside of it, give it a look.

###

Now...I have a lot to do, so that's life as I know it at this point! Let me know what you think about things!

Peace, Out.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Parasite Girls, Time the Healer, Sylvia Plath...and the Point of it All...

I am not ashamed to tell you that right now I am in a holding pattern, partly of my own doing. One of the unfortunate results of that is finding myself stuck, and l fear leaving others in the lurch. It's not something I am happy about.

Without ever saying it, my late father by example did his best to keep his word on things. We all learned that, and for that reason I sometimes find it very hard to promise things to others. Because I have no idea in about 50% of the cases whether or not I can actually follow through.

It's easy in some ways--people need me to cover the, I'm there. That's because I need the money, but also because I do actually enjoy the dying industry I live in.

That plus a series of incidents and issues has led me to once again find myself on the edge of a pit that I do not wish to fall into again. It's pretty bad when you don't sleep properly (the worst thing for whatever my brand of depression is!), and then awaken to find it's fucking 12 Noon.

Lovely. So much to do, no time to do it in. And yet that may well also be an illusion I've allowed to manifest.

So, where are we? August 1st, and I wish to know where I am, still. I've had a few friends ask me about my work, and what's going on there. Well, suffice to say I've been cruising through cyberspace for the past 12+ months on the job hunt, and yes, also looking outside the broadcast realms. Couple of interesting interviews did take place, so I am encouraged.

Of course, it means...moving. The days of being able to drive to my job are no longer, and that means for me pulling up stakes. I am aware this is something I will have to do; there is nothing left for me to do in Pennsylvania, and I think a change of scenery is what I need. I need it, badly.

I feel sorry that I have not been able to commit to things, musically. That leaves one person hanging, but thankfully he's using his mad skills with another project, and I hope for their success. Add to that: here in York, I give respect and props to friends who have produced really awesome music. Their talent goes way beyond anything I have to offer in that line. My job as a DJ is to help them get some kind of attention, which is well deserved.

That has been my role. To push, promote, and let others know who's really out there. I guess I tried to push myself into that hole and I think I'm alright, but not what works. Not now.

Let me get to the next one here...w/o internet service at my house, I've had more hours to read, edit and do stuff in a comparative silence. I have to admit, I like that. What it has done is allow me to examine things a little more closely, than I normally would do.

The net is our TV, isn't it? We watch it, read from it, and get all obsessed over what's on it. I'm not going to go on a rant about how awful it is, because that is pointless. Nothing is ever good enough for some people, and nothing will ever fit their pigeonholed respectability whateveritis. Do what you gotta, folks.

Sylvia Plath's unabridged journals are a very slow, heavy read. I'm basically reading her diaries. And again, these have to be taken in a very small bit at a time. Her word use, big words, some kind of education none of us could possibly get today...let those elitist little "exceptional" brats (and especially their voyeuristic parents) have a go at THIS!

What I get out of it, though is that Plath suffered from the same issues a lot of us do. She suffered losses, went through all the turmoil any human being did, but felt it so much more intensely. She was human; you see her struggling in the pages with her family, the need to be wanted by another, but also the need to be who she had to be. Sylvia vacillates on her writing, ignores it, comes up with ideas for stories with impossible names for characters, but you wonder where they all went.

She was ahead of her time, in terms of her feminist views, but these were not fully formed, I don't think. She left behind an awful lot for us to consider, though, about ourselves.

So where does that leave me? Well...as I've shamelessly plugged you can find me on Behance.net, and the rough opening of "Parasite Girls" is there. That will come out later this summer, and I do hope very much to see some cover ideas from my artist friend.

I'm already trying to consider the follow-up. I don't know if I should do this, but with down time and "stasis," the word Sylvia uses a lot, I have to do something.

I look back at a lot of my writings from years past--all just waiting to break out, and I realize my style changed. What I have is still good, but not good enough. Nowhere near. I must go back to that. I must bash at it yet again.

So in the meantime, what have I got?

I think "Time the Healer" might be the followup. The rough opening is also on the Behance site. It's longer, but in ebook form it'll not be so bad. I think I can have it ready for 2014. My goal is now to publish one every six months, while still trying to find some method of getting into a real book form.

The cost is not going to be prohibitive, and hardly do I expect my friends to buy everything I write, of course not. But it's got to get out there, and the window is closing.

"Time" also is rather timely...it deals a lot with bullying, and the violence that surrounds it...also what happens when people stick their heads in the sand and pretend it doesn't happen. Not all of this is personal, but enough is and what I have done with it makes it compelling enough for others to wake the fuck up.

The main character is remaking herself (aren't we always doing that?)...without ever seeing the video until today, I now realize what is fitting about this:


"Point of it All" is from the solo album, "Who Killed Amanda Palmer?" I was listening to this recording and others of hers as I put the story together. 

This is where we are. 

I woke up late, and with a mind to go do something I should be doing today, and the feeling of no drive, no energy and no will is horrid to me. Being lazy is not something I enjoy--it comes from years of being told not to be lazy, to be active, to work, and work, and work the fuck some more.

I do not know what it is like to be lazy, even when forced to it. Yet, some must think I am, because they see me sitting in the "Office," banging away on my laptop or staring at it.

My surgery of one month ago does have a hand in this, but I am improving, so you'd think I would feel better about it. I do, but I am finding this world around me a crushing one, that I have to fight off, as I do ongoing depression.

That video above? I've heard and played that song fuck knows how many times. I love it; it's well-written, the piano and the way it was recorded (not sure how from listening to it) and what little instrumentation around that just fits. The video did not depress me, but you feel something, don't you? 

Ain't that some shit?

Resignation as well...what I hope everything to be will NEVER be. I am starting to realize that what I hoped for is not something I think I want, anyway. Because what I wanted will transform out of my hands and into something that it's not. Or...is it because I wish to control it, that I won't let it grow?

Oh. Now that is tough one, isn't it? Perhaps I should let it go, as I have had to go many things, my land up home, my last connections to certain places, and to again look down the open road and see what's there.

And yet I must wait. Wait for things to change, on their own time, but wonder also if I have time, enough for it. Perhaps it is to take these matters more securely in my own hands and say, "Fuck it! I will go NOW!"

Not instant gratification, mind; more just a matter of putting things into action and saying, "Alright, now it's moving--let's see where it goes."

Depression. It is not fun. I do not, as another has said, wish this on even the person who hates me most, if anyone actually does. 

For those who are starting to wonder, believe me I am not considering any kind of drastic measures. I have no interest in creating that kind of mess, because I have learned that to stay is to keep fighting all of it, and to eventually win, because you are still here and you didn't ring the curtain down prematurely.

An old friend very bluntly stated that she didn't think much of those who offed themselves, because they gave up. Well...there are some who would take that way out rather than face the reality of what was before them, true.

Not everyone though--for some cultures, there's still the matter of honor and pride. I understand it, but I don't. We can't fully understand a place we've never been, and never grown up and lived in, can we? But we think we do.

It's noted in "Parasite Girls," that suicide is at times a dark place where if you fall into it...(I'm leaving it blank, you decide for now)...

So what is "the Point of it All?" I don't know. I have a bad habit of using other people's lyrics and songs for inspiration because I don't feel most of what I have written in that line really works. They just don't fit, and I don't find my own lyrics and songs to be that inspirational. They do work in certain ways, but not always.

Just one more step of development I guess.

I'll try a little harder today, to get moving. Sorry if this is a rambling mass of whatever...but this is what you get. You get one draft in my blog, that's all!

"I write reams of this shit every day, haha!" -- John Cale loops that in one of his songs, I love it.

Peace, Out.

Sunday, May 26, 2013

"Parasite Girls" -- A Small Taste...

Well, here we are...approaching Memorial Day Weekend, and I come face to face with numerous matters.

Regular readers of my blog will note I don't blog very much anymore. Back in the day of Myspace (soooo 2006, right?) I used to do it fairly often. Right now, I don't have the time to speak of. 

I have to admire regular bloggers, like my old college friend Joanne (Tahoma Beadworks & Photography), who can do so fairly often. How Amanda Palmer has time to do voluminous blogs on her site, with her touring, music, this and that. She must not sleep.

Sylvia Plath's journals, especially those of her high school/college years are incredibly descriptive. Her ability to recall subtle details and put them in at the end of the day was remarkable. 

But we're here to talk about "Parasite Girls." My first book is ready to go; we'll be putting it out to the e-Reader market this summer, and I am hopeful that this is a good enough story, touches on enough issues that need to be done, and make for a beginning.

I have a lot more in the can, believe you me. Recently my agent and I parted ways after a four-year relationship. Just didn't work out. Add to it, the six-volume "Sweet Dreams Series," a young adult/anime/time travel series is too big a step for a first-time author. It needs more work, and I need to show the world what I am capable of before bringing it out.

Anyway...here is the beginning...while this may not be word for word, here's the proof of Chapter 1 of "Parasite Girls." It's short, hopefully to the point and gives enough of an idea to make you want to keep going.

Do let me know what you think...


Chapter 1    Mimas World

     “So you need to tell me,” Mima said, “just why you’re here.”
     Aidan lit a Gitanes and leaned against the apartment deck rail. The sounds and smells of Tokyo drifted up to the second floor, but he did not take them in. Instead, he smiled and gazed through the French tobacco smoke at his host.
     Mima regarded Aidan through the bangs of her short hair and rimless glasses. She wore an old sweatshirt, the cuffs frayed from years of wear and washing; the logo was not of a university from Japan, but an American one. Black tights wrapped themselves snugly about her muscular thighs and calves; Mima’s girth was wider than the norm when it came to Japanese women. That mattered not at all to Aidan and even less to Mima, who danced to the beat of her own internal drum machine.
     “Well,” Aidan replied as he carefully flicked the cinders into a smokeless ashtray, “I have a layout in mind for the book as we discussed earlier. I also felt a change of pace was in order.” He hoped that would be enough. 
     “Whatever you have in mind,” Mima replied as she took a step closer to Aidan, a smile on her face, “you’re welcome here for as long you need. I am so grateful to see you again.”
     “I appreciate that.” Mima, he knew was appraising him behind her sun-darkened lenses. They’d not seen one another in years, and his long-lost friend was taking stock: Aidan’s brown hair remained, but there were now streaks of grey, far too soon. His blue eyes were the same, but Mima detected the changes around them. Aidan was not himself, and while Mima picked up on that, she didn’t ask.
     Mima had changed too, but in her these things were subtle. Only months younger than himself, Mima appeared ageless. She was a little heavier, chunkier perhaps than Aidan recalled, but from what he saw pass through the apartment earlier that morning Mima was in shape in more ways than one.
      “Anyway,” she said, “I must get back to work. Got a project to deliver this week.”
      “No worries.” Mima ambled barefoot into the main room of her apartment while Aidan took his time with his guilty pleasure from the first Paris assignment. Skyward, Aidan’s eyes passed over the high rises that surrounded Mima’s apartment building.
      Aidan had experienced many worlds, but Japan was still unfamiliar territory. As in any other foreign land, he would immerse himself in it, become part of it and yet remain Aidan Connor.
      His cigarette finished, Aidan carefully stubbed it out and slid the butt inside the blue pack. He stuffed this in the breast pocket of his shirt, switched off the curious device Mima provided him and brought it through the sliding door.
      “You can leave that out there,” Mima commented from his right. “The rain never comes in; it’s cool.”
      “Okay.” Aidan set the ashtray on the black wire table between the matching chairs, and slid the door closed. He turned and again found himself inside Mima’s world—or was this her universe?
      The apartment was small, even by Tokyo standards. It was one room with a cramped kitchen to the far left, plus a door that led to a tinier bathroom. Against the far wall, just to the right of the door was Mima’s futon, unmade with a nightstand next to it to hold her lamp and clock radio. Before this, a TV rested beside an Xbox with about twenty game discs scattered around the console.             
      There were also other odd gadgets of the kind that could only be dreamed up in this land, including a robotic toy dog. The floor was bare, hardwood and without rugs.
      On the other side of the door was Mima’s workspace. Beneath an overhead light was a large table that doubled as a desk and drafting board. Mima’s Gateway and Toshiba Satellite laptop were linked by a USB hub; also attached was a laser printer, scanner, router and two external hard drives. The power cords for all of these snaked off behind the table into not one, but two surge protection strips, the plugs attached to the only power outlets on this side of the room. Two file cabinets and a wall-mounted rack for discs made up the rest of Mima’s “office.” Mima was hunched over on the high stool, focused on the ad design she’d talked of nonstop since meeting Aidan at the airport the night before.
      To Aidan’s left was the low couch that became his “guest room,” beside which lay his open suitcase. His Sony Walkman, jean jacket and the case that held his ancient Minolta camera rested atop the jumbled pile of clothes.
      Aidan sat here now, looking at the wall above the bed. Mima adorned the pale blue walls with her original artworks, sketches, doujinshi and anime creations.  There also was a pair of wildly colored abstract canvases, not of Mima’s hand.
      “Those are Sora’s,” Mima commented. She did not look up as she guided the cursor across the screen.  “We’ll be seeing her tonight,” Mima added. “Sora is very excited to meet you; I’ve told her so much about you.”
      “Oh, God,” Aidan joked as he unclipped the battered leather case that held his camera, “just what have you told her?”
      “Only the good things.” Mima turned and giggled; this and the screwed-up facial expression that accompanied the sound never failed to make Aidan laugh. “There is nothing bad about you, Aidan,” she went on as she turned back to the screen, “but considering some of the scrapes you’ve been in, I would imagine you’ve acquired a few habits.”
      “Yeah.” Aidan tried not to let his voice change, but he failed.
      Mima turned again. “You okay?” 
      “There’s a lot of stuff to talk about,” Aidan admitted as he drew out the Minolta, “but I still need to piece it together before I can really explain.” 
      “No,” Mima said, “I am sorry. I get the idea what happened in Kabul was pretty rough. You don’t have to talk about it unless you want to.”
      “It’s all right,” Aidan replied, “I will soon enough. The main reason I’m here I think is to get away from that. Not run from it, mind, but to think about from it from a distance. Then maybe I can go back, you know?”
      “I do.” Mima slid off the stool and came over to sit beside Aidan. She watched as he broke down the camera for cleaning, and noted the care with which he handled the instrument. “Like I told you,” she said, “you’re welcome here, Aidan. You were dear to me back then; you still are.”
      Aidan set the pieces down in his clothes. “You were,” he replied, “and are too, Mima. Stuff has to change, and some of it is me; I’m working on it.”
      Mima slid her arms around Aidan’s shoulders. “Take all the time you need, Aidan.”
      He reached up and felt his friend’s thick arm, and the hidden strength within as Mima gave him a squeeze. “Thank you,” Aidan said. “I’ll try not to be too depressed during my stay; you’re good for changing that.”           
      Mima grinned, made an odd but cute, “Nyah” sound before rising and heading back to her table. “I am flattered,” she replied as she resumed her work. “Unfortunately, that does not get this finished. I’d like to see the outline down before we hit the streets.  We’ll go see Sora this evening and find if we can get her out. That cool?”
      “It is.” Aidan drew out the camera’s cleaning kit. “I’m not exactly sure what you mean by getting Sora ‘out,’ though.”
      “That will depend,” Mima explained, “on which one of Sora is available when we get there.” She continued to sketch across the extra-large mouse pad with a slow, deliberate hand, and said no more.
      The statement made Aidan pause. Mima’s comment about Sora was a fleeting one and sounded like she said it fairly often.
      As he carefully wiped the Minolta’s lens, Aidan wondered what was up with Sora. She was a talented artist, easy to see by the depth and originality of those paintings. 
      Aidan then reminded himself that when it came to people, everyone had a story, and there was always much more than what they thought they saw.

###

Well, there you have it...hope you liked it...the rest is coming this summer...

Monday, January 9, 2012

Girding One's Loins...Such Interesting Mental Pictures

That does make for a very interesting one, doesn't it?


The definition of that term is, "to summon up one's inner resources in preparation for action."  As it says here:


http://www.thefreedictionary.com/gird+loins

I remember Harris in "Major League" saying that in a prayer before the beginning of the season; before that, Mark Twain wrote that Tom Sawyer did so, before preparing to study Bible verses.  


Yes, I'm attempting to summon my resources to get back to work in a manner of speaking.  I suppose the timing is not good, which is why I'm having my difficulties with it.


Add to that, I'm still adjusting to my upped druggage.  I was feeling really mellow...stoned, actually for the first three days of the increased amount of the Big Z.  My energy level has slowly returned, and I am not quite as plotless in my mind.


"TNT," Ladell McLin version...imagine AC/DC being played by a guy that looks like Prince and sounds & plays guitar a bit like Hendrix.  Interesting.  Other iTunes as the situation permits...


My writings of late have fallen off, mostly to deal with editing.  New ideas in the head, but one is starting to come to the fore and I have to get to it.  Did not get a lot of response when it came to my offering of "Take Another Road" on here, and I'm a little disappointed.  Oh well...


...my now ex-girlfriend (and it's official) Alice is going to apply her skills at graphic design and web-making to a site for moi later this month, so we'll roll with it from there.  Meanwhile, we each have things to get down on.  We're good; great friends, and know we understand one another damned well.  It's almost scary, but a very good thing.


For me, yes...the new book idea is coming, has been for several months, and I've several pages of sketches, storylines and characters.  It will be intriguing and different, yet also familiar, I hope.


"Jack-A-Lynn," by Jethro Tull.  Lovely...


Now anyway, I've done yet another edit of "Parasite Girls."  It's getting better; has potential as a film script, too.  Drama, I think...yes, mostly that, with a little action and excitement, but a study of the human being inside each of us, a little mad, a little not so, and whatever.  That's done.


As for the "Sweet Dreams Series," we're now forging ahead with a new tactic.  My intrepid agent will now attack the Mainstream Fiction market.  We were going YA with it, but it seems that the idea has been lost on some.


Honestly, this appeals to all, to more, to beyond just what that demographic reads.  Adults and kids of all ages have given me the thumbs up (but for one fellow, heehee, and he knows who he is, but it's cool he was honest with me and I love him for that).  It will go...dammit!


The manga side will soon be analyzed yet again and hopefully some action can be taken soon on that.


Now it is true that the SDS series after Book 3 needs some tweaking; I'll get to that over time, but it will be a larger project than I envisioned.  Need more time for that.  Much more.


"Bleed American," Jimmy Eat World; "I'm not crazy 'cause I take the right pills every day."  Heh.


Healthwise, I'm in good shape.  Better health, but I do worry a little about feeling smacked out at times.  Focus better, but there's a trade-off.


Must get ready to raise some hell with this new one...I think this will be a very hard topic for me, because it goes again back to parts of my life that were depressing, and I mean very depressing.  It's that part of my life that needs addressing.  I've addressed all manner of horrors in my writings, other's experiences told to me, plus my own.  And I have just gotten started there.


Fun, eh?  Oh yeah...


"Have to Drive..." -- from the recently purchased "Who Killed Amanda Palmer?" CD.  Figures...the Dresden Dolls (and the wonderfully dark-humored Ms. Palmer) are involved in the new work...oh yes, useful for the main character.


Now, this may seem rather off-topic, but it's not:


<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/pgQzRATYBjA" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

Watch this, but zoom ahead to about the 1:55 mark...Jim Jeffries will tell you of a text message, and then ask a question of himself.


He will tell you the answer.


I think much alike in this respect, for good or ill.


Because of what goes on up in my mind, I can create some pretty neat things...and some odd ones.


Ah well..."Blowfish" by Steve Vai is on...


I better get to this while I'm still conscious...a couple days off before back to the work thing.  Let's see what comes of it all...