Author Archives: scrivnomancer

Quietly Screaming

30 Tuesday Oct 2007

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Going mad-mad-mad in third-shift land . . .

John, my venerable cop chum who I’ve befriended in my graveyard shift pulled me aside and gave me a hushed warning, told me to call him if there was ANY sign of trouble and I thought to myself, “Cripes!  I’ve been awake for 29 hours…I can’t handle a gang war.”

We’ll get back to that.

First though, and more cheerfully, it’s a scientific fact that hot cider tastes better while listening to ghost stories.  I got to further support this theory on the 20th, at Volo Bog.

Second, I apologize to all my close friends, all the friends I normally see on a normal basis, all my far flung friends that I might visit on occasion, and all you electronic lovelings on the internet—I’m way, way, WAY behind on emails and even further behind on phone calls.  I’m not shunning anyone.  I’m just in a frenzied, bad place and have very few hours.  By way of example…let’s get back to the start of this post…

I’ve been working 40 hours each week, 3rd shift, at 7-11 (the artist formally known as White Hen)—but with the wind chill and demanded extra shifts; it’s more like 50+ hours.  I don’t want to get off on a rant about my job, but I think that if I died and went to Hell, it would be working at a convenience store, and all the clocks would be broken, and my watch would be blank, and I’d keep doing tasks of Sisyphus-level productivity, and occasionally ragged, insane, and damaged lost souls would wander in and jabber incomprehensibilities before leaving and my mind would be too fogged to recall what day it was or when my shift began or when it would end, too fogged to recall just what lay outside the fogged store windows…

Meanwhile, a couple Wednesdays ago, my brother Nick and I went to Chicago for an audition he discovered on Craigslist for the pilot episode of a TV show about vampires.  Brutal traffic, but we make it on time and the we do some readings and it goes well.  The director seems impressed with the both of us.  He’s in a rush to cast the thing and film it over the weekend (it’s more of a pilot teaser to shop around).

Nick, our friend Dori, and I all go and film as badass vampires, a couple of Saturdays ago.  But that Saturday I was told (I was not asked) that I would fill in for someone and work at 7-11.  That meant a 33+ hour workday:  3rd shift Friday night into Saturday morning, straight to the shoot Saturday morning into Saturday evening, straight to another 3rd shift.  I’ve been awake that long before . . . but never actively working straight through it (except for a 40 hour writing stint when I was finishing the White Wolf novel draft, which caused me to go quite mad).  My body didn’t like that.  My mind started giving out.  And to top it all off, John the cop came and informed me (in whispers) that there was a potential gang battle between two gangs from towns on the opposite sides of my town (and I being only thing open in the misty-mid-region between).  This was not the thing I wanted to hear at a point in time, when I thought the cash register was changing the locations of it’s keys on me as part of some prank (and I swear I could hear it laughing Puckishly!).

No gang battle.  John and his comrades shut down a party one of the gangs was throwing (apparently to plan nefarious deeds), and said bangers were sent packing back to their town.  John came back to inform me.  I gave him more free donuts, coffee, and sandwiches.  I got home Sunday morning, saw Nick sleeping, and realized, to my horror, that he had slept twice in the time that I was awake.

Fast forward to Monday the 22nd.  Nick gets call from the vampire director.  Bad news, he lost the footage (computer crash)—could we film again on Wednesday.  Yes.  This meant another long day for me (3rd shift—shoot—3rd shift).  Egads!  I had enough Monster energy drinks to flat-line the Leviathan.

But I survived.

This is just to illustrate why I don’t have much time for socializing.  It’s not you, it’s me and . . . ugh . . . sorry . . . cliché head freeze.

There is one tiny advantage to this burn-out pace—I’ve lost 7 pounds in the last week and a half.  Of course, it’s probably not healthy weight loss.  It’s probably seven pounds of muscle, internal organs, and happiness.

I got to loose this job.

Saturday night, I started yawning.

“No yawning yet,” said the woman I was training.

“I’m not yawning,” I said, “I’m screaming very quietly.”

Oh, Agent Starling, you think you can dissect me with this blunt little tool?

16 Tuesday Oct 2007

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I generally avoid these things like the plague. . . but I do about one a year and it’s been more like two . . . so . . .


1. Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed?

I sleep with the closet doors shut, while hanging upside-down during the day…thinking of you.

2. Do you take the shampoos and conditioner bottles from hotel?

Is that a philosophical question?

3. Have you ever ‘done it’ in a hotel room?

No I have never had sexual intercourse with Cousin It at a hotel?  I am offended by this line of questioning.  God!  Could you imagine all the hair slivers and . . .

I . . .

 . . . what?

. . . oh . . . OH.

I see.  A colloquialism.

How embarrassing.  In that case, my answer is yes, yes I have.

4. Have you ever stolen a street sign before?

Yes, but only because it was making fun of the slow child on the block.

5. Do you like to use post-it notes?

I have virtual post-it notes on my computer.

6. Do you cut out coupons but then never use them?

No I use coupons but never cut them.  I throw full sized, Sunday edition newspapers at the heads of cashiers in the check out line, yelling, “Coupon!”

7. Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of a bees?

I’d rather be attacked by a giant bear who was composed of many bees.  I would tame him, name him Stabby-Face, and we would run off and be the best of friends and there would be folk songs about our adventures.

“Gonna tell ya a story
‘bout a boy and a bear
a boy and his bear
a boy and his bear
Jo-oshua and Stabby-Face
Stabby-Face
the magic bear made of bees
sure as you please
he’s made of bees
made of bees”

8. Do you have glasses?

No.

9. Do you always smile for pictures?

I make a charmingly odd assortment of faces for pictures, relying primarily on the power of my devastatingly expressive eyebrows.  They’re good eyebrows.  Seriously.  If you have sex with one eyebrow this holiday season, make it one of mine.

10. What is your biggest pet peeve?

Frivolous, selfish bulletins clogging up my day.

Fuck!

11. Do you sleep with your sheets tucked in or out?

The sheets always fall from the cruel grip of my talons in the closet (see question #1)

12. Do you ever count your steps when you walk?

What of it?  Huh?  You tell me a better way of stepping the square root of the number that quiets the voices in my head and I’ll fucking stop.

13. Have you ever peed in the woods?

Yes.  Once upon a time I was a boy scout.  Being a boy scout means responsibility…and early in life I learned that responsibility basically translates to memorizing long oaths and a peeing in the woods.

14. Do you ever dance even if there’s no music playing?

I have a huge imagination.  HUGE.  If my imagination were breasts I . . . I . . .

. . . sorry . . . lost of my train of thought, thinking of breasts that large . . .

In any case, if I start dancing, trust me, there will be music playing.  For me.

15. Do you chew your pens and pencils?

Yes.  Very often.  Freud and I once got into a discussion about that and I had to punch him out.

16. How many people have you slept with this week?

Just me and my dreams, man.

17. What size is your bed?

Fuck’sake asshole.  Just had to twist the knife on the fact that I’m sleeping alone these days, didn’t you?

18. What is your “Song of the week”?

I don’t know.  My thoughts are too fickle and my tastes too eclectic to say.

19. Is it okay for guys to wear pink?

Sure.  I won’t.  But sure.

20. Do you still watch cartoons?

Absolutely.  Guys that sleep alone watch cartoons.

21. What’s your least favorite movie?

Tough one.  Some movies are so bad that they’re endearing (Plan 9 From Outer Space).

If pushed, I’d have to say Andy Warhol’s Dracula.  It’s bad, but in no way endearing.

22. Where would you bury hidden treasure if you had some?

I’d hide it on Herpe-Harlot Isle.  “That’s not an Aztec curse on ye gold . . . but it be about as bad. Yar.”

23. What do you drink with dinner?

Water.

24. What do you dip a chicken nugget in?

You’re mama!  Zing!!!

Sorry.  Couldn’t help it.  Seriously though…

Sweet n’ Sour sauce (or honey BBQ).

25. What is your favorite food/ cuisine?

Those little orange and brown wrapped candies that bitter old people hand out during Halloween but no one eats.  I believe the bitter elderly put all of their spent life into those putrid candies and that if you eat one, you surrender your youth to them . . . and I plant them in my backyard with dreams that a scary, malevolent tree will rise from the ground to do my bidding.

26. What movies could you watch over and over and still love?

The Crow, Dark City, Wolf, Grosse Point Blank, Nightmare Before Christmas . . .

27. Last person you kissed/kissed you?

Not sure I recall . . . and I don’t mean in the cool, cheeky, promiscuous “I can’t remember” kind of a way…but more of the “I’m straining my brain to recall” variety.

28. Were you ever a boy/girl scout?

Yes.

29. Would you ever strip or pose nude in a magazine?

I’d certainly be willing to be the photographer.

30. When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper?

I think it was to my teacher/mentor, Nancy Perkins.  When I take the time to write a letter, I make sure to put a wax seal on the envelope.

31. Can you change the oil on a car?

No.  Not in this state.  Not since…the incident.

32. Ever gotten a speeding ticket?

Many.  Central IL cops think I’m some sort of criminal.  I often get searched for weapons on routine stops down there…probably because I dress like the neighborhood watch sign.  They never understand that people who are actually up to no good don’t wear black fedoras (they probably think I have large bags with $$$ on them).

33.Ever ran out of gas?

Once.  But there was an abandoned mansion just up the road . . .

34. Favorite kind of sandwich?:

Roast Beef Pannini (with tomato and cream cheese)

35 Best thing to eat for breakfast?

I work the 3rd shift now.  This question vexes me.

36. What is your usual bedtime?

My guess is that if I was analyzed, I’d be prognosed with a number of sleep disorders.  My sleep times are anything but usual.  I’m nocturnally wired.  And my biorhythms are too sharp and powerful for me to have any control of them.

37. Are you lazy?

By nature.  But I also care and have ambition…so I’m sometimes at war with my nature.

38. When you were a kid, what did you dress up as for Halloween?

Many, many things…pirates, swamp monsters, vampires, Silent Bob (my brother was Jay), Dr. Gonzo (my brother was Hunter Thompson), Spy vs. Spy (my brother was the white spy and I was the black), and many others besides.  I trick or treated right up to and including being and undergrad in college.

39. What is your Chinese astrological sign?

Godzilla…no…that’s Japanese…fuck…well that degrades any illusions of wit I might have had writing up this asinine questionnaire.

40. How many languages can you speak?

One.

I know dirty phrases in Japanese and I can say “Go to Hell” (and a few other words/phrases in Ancient Greek).

41. Do you have any magazine subscriptions?

No.  I do get a Fright Catalog sent to me every once in a while.

42. Which are better: legos or lincoln logs?

Legos.  Easy.  Whole worlds and stratospheres of possibility locked into those little blocks.

43. Are you stubborn?

No, I flow like water.

44. Who is better…Leno or Letterman?

Svenghouli!

45. Ever watch soap operas?

Nope.  If I want that I can read a stranger’s blog.

46. Afraid of heights?

No.  I’m rather fond of heights actually.

47. Sing in the car?

Yes.  A lot.  And in the time in between getting into my car and exiting, I’m totally convinced I have a career in music…but never before or after that.

48. Dance in the shower?

How’d you know?  You silly voyer.

49. Dance in the car?

Yeah.

50. Ever used a gun?

Yes.  I went to a firing range once.

51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer?

Probably at a wedding.

52. Do you think musicals are cheesy?

For the most part.  Yes.  It’s a ridiculous conceit.  I think it only really works with a discordant theme or story.  Twisted/dark stories work for musicals…it takes the ridiculousness from annoying to delightfully absurd.

53. Is Christmas stressful?

No.  Holidays are silly things to stress over.

54. Ever eat a pirogie?

What is that?  A species of hobgoblin?

55. Favorite type of fruit pie?

Pumpkin!  Yugoslavian Gypsies believed that pumpkins left out to rot for too long turn into vampires.  By eating pumpkin pie, you are, in effect, eating monsters in embryo.

56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?

Paleontologist.

57. Do you believe in ghosts?

Not really.  But I also believe that the ghosts don’t care what I believe.  Paradoxes run in my head like reels of scary silent films accompanied to organ music played by winged monkeys . . .

58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling?

Yes.  Intensely a few times.

59. Take a vitamin daily?

Semi-daily.

60. Wear slippers?

If it’s really cold.  Otherwise my feet like to breath.  Sometimes…they have bad breath 😦

61. Wear a bath robe?

Yes.  Often.

62. What do you wear to bed?

An authentic Spider Man costume from the movie…if I could get one.

63. First concert?

Jimmy Buffett.  I saw my first pair of flashed breasts at a Jimmy B concert.  I was never the same.

64. Wal-Mart, Target or K-Mart?

Spencer’s.

65. Nike or Adidas?

Moon Boots

66.Cheetos Or Fritos?

Pizza.

67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds?

Peanuts

68. Ever hear of, “gorp”?

If you refer to the world devouring, pseudopoded, ichor filed, world devouring horror, who leaves a trail of slime and dead stars in his primordial wake, terror that his GORP.  Then yes.

69. Ever take dance lessons?

A little swing dancing.

70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?

Singer.  I’d like to date a singer.  Or an international spy.  Scully…agent Scully—that’d work too.

71. Can you curl your tongue?

‘oo ‘eeang linek ‘his?

72. Ever won a spelling bee?

Oh you .  . . how adorably naïve of you to ask.

73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy?

No . . . I growl when I’m happy . . . and wag my tail when I’m angry—therefore, I’m mad.  

74. Own any record albums?

No.  I’m mostly digital these days.

75. Own a record player?

Do you speak of the phonograph?

76. Regularly burn incense?

Used to.  But I have a snake in my room and they have easily damaged lungs.  So now I don’t.

77. Ever been in love?

yes

78. Who would you like to see in concert?

NIN

79. What was the last concert you saw?

Not sure…but I just got off of 3rd shift and my memory tends go about then.

80. Hot tea or cold tea?

Coffee…and I like my coffee like I like my women: bitter and murky.

No-no…I like my coffee black as night and sweet as sin.

No.  Actually I like my coffee with gobs of cream and sugar . . . but I don’t know a cool way to say that.

81.Tea or coffee?

See that questionnaire . . . I’m always two steps ahead of you.  Ha-ha!  If you were a police detective and I were a serial killer, you’d just be opening a box to find Gwyneth Paltrow’s head inside.

82. Sugar or snickerdoodles?

Brown sugar.

83. Can you swim well?

I’ve always been a strong swimmer.

84. Can you hold your breath w/o manually holding your nose?

Yes.

85. Are you patient?

Yes.  But too a fault.

86. DJ or band, at a wedding?

I’ve never been to one with a band.  I’d like to try that.

87. Ever won a contest?

Yep.  I won $400 in a costume contest as Jay and Silent Bob (with my bro).  I also won a novel contest . . . check out Strangeness in the Proportion in your book stores coming soon.  Literacy is an important issue kids.  The more of our population that can read, the bigger my demographic.

88. Ever have plastic surgery?

No.

89. Which are better black or green olives?

Black.

90.Can you knit or crochet?

I have no practical skills.

91. Best room for a fireplace?

Living room…bedroom would be pretty sweet too.

92. Do you want to get married?

Maybe some day.  

93. If married, how long have you been married?

OK…you’re starting to get pushy on this subject.

94. Who was your HS crush?

I had many.  I had a high crush capacity.

95. Do you cry and throw a fit until you get your own way?

No, I’m pretty stoic.

96. Do you have kids?

Yes.  There are 11 of them in my trunk.

97. Do you want kids?

The trunk is at capacity.

98. Whats your favorite color?

…..

…..

….purple.

You thought I was going to say black!  Ha.  I’m not so predictable.  And what’s wrong with purple.  It’s perfectly manly.  It’s a royal color.  It’s the Joker’s color.  It’s the voodoo god of sex and death’s color.  It’s Samuel “motha-fucka” Jackson’s favorite color.  It’s what black would be if it was brighter.  Let’s not let one freakish telatubbie ruin a good color for a whole gender!

99. Do you miss anyone right now?

Yes

100. Who do you wanna see right now?

Fall is here and I haven’t gotten to hang out with Torrie yet.

Or Agent Scully.

You’ll Find Me a Crow Left of the Murder

13 Saturday Oct 2007

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Preambles in Latex and Body Piercings
October, a month of Halloween is here.  So I got started.  Watched Young Frankenstein.

Check.

But there is still much to be done.

Tonight it’s ghost stories at Volo Bog.  Double check.

The other day, I was too resltess to sleep after 3rd shift and then after the sun rose, so I went for a walk-about at the bog.  I got to see a group of Sandhill Cranes.  They are very large birds, taller and larger than Great Herons.  They look something like a pterodactyl when they fly and sound something like a dinosaur when they call.  As they should.  They are very primordial birds, the oldest known species, having existed for some 6 million years.

Last night I visited GothicFest, with Sophia, at Excalibur Night Club.  It’s the right sort of night club for that kind of event.  It was interesting.  I wear black.  I like grinning skulls on my person…but I don’t know if I fit into the “Goth” scene, exactly (sub-genres—industrial, emo, etc.—are tedious little things, so I’ll skip them).  But one black bird roosting with a bunch of other black birds looks about the same, and they caw and I caw, but in the end, I think I’m on my own little branch.  Or maybe that’s the illusion we all like to maintain.

I saw strange and interesting sights and met strange and interesting people.  Some where funny, some freaky, some took themselves far too seriously, and some were eccentrically charming.  Most were actually pretty kind and inviting.

I did see something I hadn’t seen before.  There were performers, bands, singers, DJs, displays, and booths selling dark merchandise (we’ll just assume, from this point, that everything there was “dark” and I can stop using the word).  There were piercing booths, body mods, T-Shirts, action figures, post cards, and rubber dresses held up by impossible physics.  Then there were book booths: fiction—yes, occultism—yes, dark spirituality (crap…I used the word again)—yes.  But beyond this was a booth with fiction books and literary journals and a sign that said:  “Cthulhu vs. Jesus (yes, that Jesus)”.

I thought to myself, “ . . .”

VS.

Looking further, the sign said something like “An anthology of hardboiled horror, with a Christian twist.”  And so, I think, I was introduced to the Christian Goths.  Curiouser and curiouser.


Coming Attractions
Mark those calendars…

On November 3rd, Nick and I will be finishing the Halloween season with a special addition of the Doetsch Brothers Outdoor Theatre…yep, we’ll be dragging the projector and screen out back and screening a marathon of horror flicks.  Good, bad, scary, funny, all sorts.  More details to come.  There will be fire and copious amounts of cocoa and coffee to keep folks warm.  Start making movie recommendations.

On November 25th (tentatively at 7:30) there will be a Twilight Tales, Book of Dead Things, reading/signing event at Café Aeon in McHenry.  Details to follow (I’m still in the beginning phase of setting this up) but there should be several authors present reading some cool stories about…well…dead things.  Come out and give us your support.  You can sample Book of Dead Things stories, including mine (“Blood, Snow, and Sparrows”) over at the website.


Baby, I Gotta Get Some Links Off My Chest
Here are some links I’ve been saving, in no particular order or manner . . .

-Stephen King talks about the state of the American short story.

-Interesting article on the confusing world of nutrition and how mistaken paradigms are formed.

-Video interview with Bruce Campbell.

-An author’s research goes too far (cannibalism is fun kids!).

-And finally, if you know who Neil Gaiman is and you’ve seen the Superman movies, then you might find this funny:

Ghost Stories By Bog Murk

03 Wednesday Oct 2007

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Hello, lovelings.

The month of Halloween is upon us, and so begin the festivities and events.  First up, on Saturday, October 13th, there will be ghost stories told at Volo Bog.  I’ll be making reservations on Friday.  The event is free (save a small suggested donation).  If interested, let me know and I’ll include you in the number.  If interested and you don’t get a hold of me before Friday, or you have your own group that wants to go, just call and make your own reservations (details below–deadline is this Sunday).  Anyone that wants to meet up at my place before hand is welcome (I live pretty close to the bog).  Afterwards, depending, we may move on to late night fright activities…folks welcome to stay at my place…and may do something Halloweenish on Sunday the 14th (haunted houses, pumpkin patches, raising Cthulu from the void, etc.).  More details on Sunday as I figure them out.

Here’s the info for the bog ghost stories:

Registration Deadline is 3:00 p.m. Sunday, October 7
- - Please REGISTER SOON! - - 
 
Two Storytellers at Volo Bog's Ghost Stories
Register now - Registration Deadline is October 7!
contact Volo Bog at 815-344-1294 or dnr.volobog@illinois.gov
 
Volo Bog State Natural Area's 21st Annual Ghost Stories 
Saturday, October 13        7:00 - 9:00 p.m.
Sponsored by the Friends of Volo Bog with Volo Bog State Natural Area
Donations Requested by FOVB - $5.00 / adult, $2.00 / child
 
Going strong since 1986, Volo Bog's Ghost Stories is taking a new turn
this year.  As listeners have done for decades, we'll gather under
blankets in the dark, cold picnic area just over the hill from Volo Bog
itself.  Huddled together against the chill, offering each other
security against the scary tales from two storytellers, we'll hover on
the edges of our seats....  Well, not so fast!
 
Sue Black will kick off our evening with stories from her collection of
Giggles, Jumps and Squeals - a whole lot of Halloween fun and a little
spooky too! These family-friendly stories celebrate the season with just
enough shivers to delight listeners of all ages.  Then from Ghosts,
Shivers and Screams Sue will include a witches' brew of truly
spine-tingling stories! These are the stories that cause those little
hairs on the back of your neck to rise. You might want to bring a friend
-- it will be dark when you go home! 
 
After intermission, the stories will become more complex and even a bit
scarier as we welcome Don Falkos.  Don's ghost stories are mostly
originals that are scary in a chilling rather than gruesome or
terrifying way.  They are geared to older listeners (age 10 & up is
recommended) as the plot gets a little trickier and Don takes us from
scarily familiar places like cars and closets to places more unknown - -
- like caves!  Many of Don's ghost stories can be found on his CD, The
1956 Chevy Bel Air and other chilling stories.
 
The Friends of Volo Bog who co-sponsor the event will be requesting
donations and offering seasonal refreshments for sale.  Pre-registration
is REQUIRED in order to receive a parking pass for the event - contact
Volo Bog at 815-344-1294 or dnr.volobog@illinois.gov
 
 
A bit more about our storytellers:
 
Sue Black has charmed audiences with her warmth and creativity since
1997, telling original and traditional stories from around the world. 
Recipient of the Prairie Area Reading Council Literacy Award, Sue
combines her passion for storytelling with her delight in teaching
students and their teachers to tell stories. It's an awesome
combination! Her work includes taking students from page to stage in
residencies and as the sponsor of student storytelling clubs.  She is
currently the Storyteller-in-Residence at Robert Clow Elementary School
in Naperville, Illinois. 
 
Sue's work with student storytellers has been included in two
just-released books. In Children Tell Stories, Teaching and Using
Storytelling in the Classroom, by Martha Hamilton and Mitch Weiss, Sue's
work with student storytelling clubs is prominently cited and the
authors feature a story written by Sue about one young storyteller's
experience. National Storytelling Press has released Telling Stories to
Children, and Sue's article on storytelling and the state learning
standards is included. Visit Sue on the Illinois Storytelling, Inc.
Website at http://www.storytelling.org/directorypages/black.html
 
 
Don Falkos is a storyteller, storytelling coach, workshop leader, actor,
and locksmith. Born and raised in Aurora, Illinois, Don attended the
University of Illinois where, after years of diligent study and months
of tearful pleading with professors, he obtained a degree in Classical
Archaeology and Classical Civilizations.
 
Don's stories include personal and humorous tales, scary and creepy
stories, and uplifting tales that encourage the heart, the soul, and the
mind. He tells a variety of folk tales, fairy tales, and stories from
cultures around the world. He tells a series of Aesop's fables that
expose children to concepts such as honor and respect. Don also has
several programs of Bible stories.  His style ranges from serious to
humorous, from personal to traditional, from quiet to downright
boisterous.
 
Don now lives with his wife and son in Madison, Wisconsin. He is a board
member of the Northlands Storytelling Network.  Visit Don on the
Illinois Storytelling, Inc. Website at http
 
Volo Bog State Natural Area is an Illinois Department of Natural
Resources site located in Ingleside, Illinois on Brandenburg Road west
of U.S. Highway 12 between State Highways 120 and 134.  The Friends of
Volo Bog is a Not-for-Profit 501(c)3 organization.

If you need a way out, just look for a hole, shaped like my silhouette in the wall of the Real World

01 Monday Oct 2007

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Why Can’t Ahab Hunt the White Hen?

Gotta get out of this job.

I wish the White Hen building would sprout giant chicken legs and run away like a Russian fairy tale.

I dislike most every inch of it.  I hate working 50+ hours a week, just to barely make my minimum loan payments.  I hate being at the mercy of every creep and looser that comes out of Island Lake’s cracks in the wee hours (and there are a lot of cracks…oh there are some nice late night misfits, and we can smell our own, but there are plenty of carbon based life forms I could do without on this gig).  Stories of what happened to other night shift people who got robbed at many of the surrounding White Hen’s doesn’t help (I suppose I’m lucky the cops visit mine so regularly).  But even worse than that…I’ve been missing out on a lot lately—had to skip out early on a good friend’s wedding reception—missed the double feature of Psycho and The Birds at the outdoor theater—and tonight is the last meeting of Twilight Tales at The Red Lion Pub…and I’m missing it.



The Red Lion, a building with a lot of ghosts, a lot of memories, built in 1880, and chalked full of creaky, precarious charm, is receiving renovations…but not just renovations…they’re tearing up the whole building and rebuilding it from the ground up.  I know the Red Lion will be back…I know I’ll still get to read at Twilight Tales (they’re temporarily moving to another location)…but I’ll miss the old Red Lion.  I spend enough time in safe, modern buildings…I want to drink rum and beer and read ghost stories in a place that speaks and creaks, under the beer garden tree, over a congress of very large, and by now very literary, rats.

Bah.

Medieval Times
As far as I can tell, the Medieval Times gig did not pan out.  My little sister got a call back over a week ago and will be doing further auditions…but I haven’t heard anything.

Alas…and all that.

However, breath expended to cheer me up would be better spent wishing my little sis luck.

Auxiliary Escape Pods
I’m sure there must be another way to escape this White Hen.  The problem is it sucks up so much of my time…it’s hard to take the time to make the escape—this convenience store is like a nasty, self-fulfilling prophecy…one that sells tasty sandwiches and burnt coffee.

I’m applying, near every day, for various teaching, tutoring, and writing type positions.  Haven’t heard anything back yet.

Hyena In My Throat
White Hen did afford me a moment of amusement.  I was working, per usual, when a couple of college-age guys came in the convenience store.  They made their purchase, looked at me, did a double take, and one of them said:

“Dude.  Dude!  OK.  I’ve got two questions.  First, have you ever seen the movie, Clerks?  And—”

“Yes,” I interrupted, “And I know what the second question is, and yes.”

“Dude!”

I then gave them an abbreviated story of the Halloweens and events that Nick and I went as Jay and Silent Bob—how we won several hundred dollars at a costume contest and how dressing like the duo even got us on stage with Jenna Jameson once upon a time.  They were impressed, thanked me, and took their purchases and were about to leave…when the guy who spoke up originally suddenly stiffened.  I could almost hear the gears turning and saw the light bulb over the head flicker precariously, the wattage far exceeding the fortitude of the filament.  He was in the throes of an epiphany.  He turned around, came back and delivered it unto me…

“Dude, do you not find it ironic that someone who looks like Silent Bob now works as a . . . . clerk?”

Sometimes, despite ourselves, we laugh.  Hard.

Autumn Rituals
I’ve developed a ritual of sorts, over the last two weeks.

By the end of a graveyard shift at the Hen, my back and feet hurt.  A lot.  I’m more of a shower person…but I’ve started soaking in the tub after most shifts.  But with so little spare time…I hate to waste it…I wanted to validate it somehow.  Absorbing stories is enough validation for my time so I started bringing the I-Pod with me.  I soak in lava hot water, turn the lights out, and sit in sense deprivation, in a warm womb of audio fiction via the head-phones.

Mostly, I listen to free podcast horror fiction at Pseudopod.

In the dark of Sunday morning, not feeling like drawing a bath, I felt like something different, to celebrate the coming of my one day off and October (or rather, October’s Eve).  I grabbed my coat and fedora to keep warm, sat in the back yard, and smoked rum-dipped cigarillos, and listened to some of Ray Bradbury’s Something Wicked this Way Comes (a quintessential October story) and stared into the forest until it stared back…or the sun rose…

I don’t remember which happened first.

Ghost Stories at the Bog
I’ll make another post on this, with more details, tomorrow—but on Saturday, October 13th, there will be professional storytellers telling ghost tales at Volo Bog.  It’s a very fun event.  I’ll likely be going and I’ll likely make reservations come Thursday.  If you want to come, let me know, and I’ll reserve a spot.

Boo

I had a clever metaphor but I clutched it too tightly and it died

20 Thursday Sep 2007

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Real World:  OK Joshua, your education is all done.

Josh:  Really?  Whoohoo!  What do I win?

Real World:  Well, you get $100,000+ of debt and menial work completely unrelated to your degree.

Josh:  But…but the degree is the reason I owe so much.

Real World:  Them’s the breaks kid.

Josh:  Damn…

Real World:  OK.  ‘Nuff talk.  Back in line.

Josh:  It’s so long…where does this one end?

Real World:  Late retirement.

Josh:  Fuck.

Argh!

There are so many stresses and traumas that can completely floor other people (that I’ve observed)…but have little affect on me.  Certain things that cause rage or despair or depression or that eats away at self-esteem and sanity . . . and most of these things roll off me like rain drops.  I am impermeable.

But you take everyday, ordinary banality…and I have no defense, I dry right up into a husk—keel over like the aliens exposed to the common cold at the end of War of the Worlds (and I don’t even get Orson Welles to narrate it . . . well . . . sometimes I do, if I close my eyes and imagine).  All my Quixotic manias dry up and I’m left feeling hollow and useless.  Not even a week into my White Hen job and I feel it.  Broken down…I owe about $1,200 a month in minimum payments . . . and working full time I make…well…pretty much that—nothing left for gas or savings or anything else.  So thoughts of living on my own or getting on with a real career seem pretty distant…maybe when I’m in my late 30’s I can get an apartment…maybe in my 40’s I could date again…

And, running under the gun of monthly payments…I’m not so sure I have the time to do the professional things I want to do, or take the creative-crazy steps to get out of this.  When was the last time I really wrote something?  Ugh…too long.  And to top it all off, with a rancid cherry, I know that plenty of other people have to do the grind (my Dad included) and work hard so I can’t even get the satisfaction of really, really whining about this in a dramatic fashion without feeling selfish and silly.  In fact, I’m only going to allow myself three paragraphs . . . which I’ve pretty much used up.

Ah well…Fall is here and that feels good and I feel that if I could only put on a silly rubber mask and play in a giant pile of leaves I might get back something of my old self.

I miss getting regular, in-depth time with my close friends.  I see people…but on a scattered basis these days.  I want to go running with Torrie every day and hang out and play Mario Cart.  I want to have rehearsals with Rich Funk every weekday.  I want…ok…I was going to make a whole list of all of you and some activity I like doing with all of you…but there are a lot of you and I hope you forgive me if I end here (in the interest of getting to bed…this 3rd shift monkey is tired).  I want to go on an IGA run or a late night outing (minus Central IL cops freaking out and searching me for weapons…but at this point, I’d accept that as the price).

On to happier things.  The MEDIEVAL TIMES AUDITION…a lot of people asked me about it.  It went well…I think.  Hard to tell.  It was very quick…but didn’t feel dismissive.  I was a little nervous (I haven’t had a real audition in a while).  But we’ll see.  I tried out for the King and for the MC positions (the MC being the witty, right-hand man of the king and host of the show). They said they’ll hold call backs next week and those they call will actually get microphone and run the lines in the main space.  I have to say, it was cool to go for an audition/interview in a castle and even cooler to hear, “We’ll do the audition in Hall of Arms.”  Also, my little sis tried out for a princess/maiden role as well.  Good luck…to us 🙂

Oh.  The sun is up.  I have to go hang upside-down in my closet now . . .

in need of swag

15 Saturday Sep 2007

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Just a few quick points:

-I discovered a pile of text messages today.  I can’t answer them.  My phone can receive text messages, but it can’t send them.  I’ll try to reply to those of you who texted me in other ways.

-I received a request, regarding MY LAST POST, to not have other people give me a kenning version of their names, but to myself give people some kenning namings.  Sounds like fun.  If you want a kenning, let me know.  I can’t promise I’ll get to all of them….but then I just might.

-This week I started my new night shift job at White Hen.  You learn a bit about your local community when working at the local convenience store.  The people there are pretty cool and it’s not all that bad . . . but it does make me yearn for a job that actually uses some of the things I incurred so much debt “learning.”  That being said…

-A few days ago I sent in my headshots and resume to Medieval Times as they were looking to fill a number of positions.  I today got a phone message from a guy over there, saying he was looking at my headshots/resume at that moment and wants me to go in on Wednesday to audition for the MC/King.  I’ll start practicing pulling swords from stones right now.  Wish me luck.

-No new word on the novel yet.  My editor, James Lowder, is still waiting for word from White Wolf on the latest iteration of the revised outline…once we get notes back on that, we’ll make final changes and then start working on the next draft…and then the exciting dates and deadlines will start falling.

-Speaking of falling…I’m excited at the change of autumn hitting.  It makes fires in the iron pit in the back yard fun, the rum dipped cigarillos better, and coffee tastier…

-I need a sugar mamma.  Maybe I should put out and ad—gives great back rubs, will travel.

-Barring that, I need a rich patron…whatever happened to the patron system!  Aren’t there eccentric rich folk out there…just a hair more creative than all the vapid heirs and heiresses fluttering about, who’d like to one-up their fellows by getting something a little more interesting than a ANOTHER house or car . . . a court poet…now THAT is power.  I’ll even wear motley.

Jingle-jingle!

By the Pricking of My Thumb . . .

12 Wednesday Sep 2007

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Laboratory Blues

Bubble, bubble—I’d wish for a little less toil and a lot less trouble . . .

But all in all and my laboratory is back in working order.  The flesh and limbs and mortal clay are all back on their shelves and in their jars and viscera soups.  My tools are each in their place, shining and humming and sparking.  And I think I’m ready to get back to work on the quivering thing on the vivisection table.

Yes, I’ve made the transition from my dying PC to a brand new MAC.   I just barely got out alive too . . . as on my last trip back to my ailing computer, to get the last little bit of data to transfer, and it would not start.  Now it is dead.  But we discovered it was a registered organ doner and some of its innards now reside in my brother’s computer.

I’m mostly acclimated to the i-mac now and mostly like it.

Best of all, I just bought an awesome new bit of creative writing software . . . it’s called SCRIVENER.  Check it out.  It deserves it’s own blog entry…at a later date.

I’m a Brilliant Future

Looks like I’m a Brilliant Future.  Go ahead.  Give it a click.  See.  Growing up, I was a poor gang banger from the projects . . . but someone gave me a chance—and look at me now!

Te-he . . . I am flattered that they thought of me (though a much better picture of me is summoned up if you click the link at the bottom of that page).

Also, I’ve been emailed some interview questions for an article on me that will appear in the UIS development magazine (name still pending).

Representing hard for the UIS yo!

AEON

Black envelopes marked in colored ink get my attention.

I just got an invite to an invite only event at my favorite café, CAFÉ AEON, and I’m quite excited.  They have a new website to boot.


Something Wicked . . .

I can feel the shift in season, the trip wire is tripped, by the trip-trap of autumn.  Memories like the smell of cider, pumpkin pie, and the sticky-sweat seal of a rubber mask are the phantom limb itch in my head.  So, I knew it was the right time to start listening to the audio recording of Ray Bradbury’s Something Wicked This Way Comes.  Ray knows autumn better than anyone.  He knows why monsters under the bed are important to child development.  I had a water bed growing up—no spaced underneath, no room for anything to hide.  Incidentally, my college writing teacher/mentor, Nancy Perkins, is convinced that, that is the reason I write what I write . . . to make up for lost time.

Of Comic Books and Kenning

For you comic fans, check out the trailer for IRON MAN.

For you epic literature fans, check out the rated R trailer for the new BEOWULF movie.

I can’t wait.  I especially like the part where Beowulf is spouting off his descriptive nick names:  “I am ripper, tearer, slasher.  I am the teeth in the darkness!”  That sort of comic book/hero contrivance where they say “I am the shadow in the night,” or some such—it’s actually from the ancient tradition of epics and mythology, the magic of formulaic naming disciplines like kenning and epithets.

There are different types in different cultures…but they all come down to giving clever nick names for a person, place, or thing.  You could just take an appropriate verb and turn it into a noun to describe something—Beowulf is “Ripper!”

Or maybe a deed becomes the name of the person—“I am Cyclops Slayer!”

Or maybe you get a little more poetic—“I am the teeth in the darkness.”

And sometimes these become set formulas for referring to famous figures…like in mythology.  Gods get many different names…or different descriptors attached to that name…and sometimes you use one so that your reader/listener knows what aspect of the god you refer to.  You might call Odin, “Gallows god” or “Glad-of-War.”  You might call Loki, “Wolf Father” or “Sky Strider.”

Kenning gets really formulaic.  It’s a system of putting two or more words together to give them a combined meaning that neither word had before—for example—one of my favorite is “bait-gallows” which means “hook.”

But then kenning gets even cooler and more deceptively complex—because you can layer it.  Let’s say a pirate strides up to me, and like some ancient, Norse poem spinner, I want to call him by kenning rather than his usual name.  I might call him “Hook-Wrist.”  And that might catch on (because kenning is simple and descriptive and it catches on just like nick names in high school)…

…but if I am a master kenning slinger, I might layer the kenning.  I can take those two words and use kenning on each of them (and we go to four words).  For example, the kenning for hook (as we said) is “bait-gallows.”  The kenning for wrist is “wolf’s-joint” (this is an allusion to the Norse myth where the god Tyr’s hand is bitten off by the demon wolf Fenrir).

So now the pirate’s kenning name becomes “Bait-Gallows-Wolf’s-Joint.”  Someone who knows their kenning could break that down and know that I’m really saying “Hook-Wrist” and deduce that the pirate I’m talking about has a hook for a hand.  But even if not…it’s a fucking cool name.  It’s a conversation starter.  The pirate, let’s say his real name is Bob, would probably thank me for the bit of poetry I’ve blessed him with.

On that same line, I might be a Viking who finds himself lost in Egypt (worm-holes can happen to anyone) and I see the crazy hooked swords of the ancient middle east ( the kopesh).  Seeing these strange, sickle shaped swords, I might call them “Hook-Sword”…or “Bait-Gallows-Blood-Worm” (“blood-worm” means “sword”).

And this takes us to the ultimate conclusion of this post . . .

Who wants to join me and start a band called Bait-Gallows-Blood-Worm?

And finally, A CHALLENGE TO THE READER:  I’m curious what someone might use as kenning to refer to themself…click on the above links, read up on it, and then reply to this post with your own kennings.  If anyone replies, I’ll join in the fun too.

Parting Wisdom

Give a cannibal a severed arm, and you feed him for a day.

Give a cannibal a cleaver, and you feed him for life.

Better than Leeches

24 Friday Aug 2007

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Craziness and delirium.  I haven’t posted properly in some time…but I’ve been wading through Craziness and delirium.  But more on that in a bit.  First a word from our sponsor…THE 2007 SLIP N’ SLIDE PARTY!

Firstly, you may be tempted to speak like a pirate at the party, or may want to explore the nuances of the word booty.  Please review the instructional video below…and study it in it’s entirety…it gets particularly informative in the middle.  Go ahead.  I’ll be here when you finish…

Feel educated?  Good.

Hope to see everyone tomorrow at the party.  If you get lost, have to disarm a bomb, or need any other info, you can reach me at 224-627-6836.

So where were we?  Updating.

The last two weeks of my summer job were brutal.  I could not sleep, not to the standard, diurnal beat.  So up early in the morning and no more than 2 hours (sometimes less, sometimes none) sleep a night.  On top of that, I was stressing on the revised outline for my White Wolf novel…due and due and past due to my editor.  Generally, I find the term “Writer’s Block” to be a sham and a BS alibi, but I had nothing…felt pretty useless.

On that last Friday night of the day job, my body shut down—I laid down to take a short “nap” and didn’t wake up for 22 hours.

Now I’m back to comfortably, partial-nocturnal rhythm.  I have my brain back too…and it’s nice–I missed it–just in time for Gen-Con, last weekend.  I went to the gamming convention looking for work, contacts, and ideas.  I hit a bunch of writing and pod casting seminars too.  I imbibed some rum via flask and visited the White Wolf party (it’s the kind of party and the kind of club that Wesley Snipes might walk into and start cutting the heads off of your fellow dancers…only they aren’t dancers…they’re vampires…and holy shit…).

On a happy coincidence, my editor, James Lowder was in Indianapolis, at the convention, doing a writing seminar of his own (on doing freelance work in the gaming industry).  So I braved the early morning after the White Wolf party (ugh!) and popped in the seminar to meet him in person.  I waited (taking notes with all the other hopeful writers) until the seminar was over, before I introduced myself.  He was surprised to learn who I was.  “I’ve got a meeting with White Wolf right after this,” he said, “To talk about you.”  That got the attention of the others in the seminar.  Jim boosted my ego and elevated the worries of my previous, sleepless weeks, telling me that I had nothing to worry about, my writing was good and the things we needed to fix (large mechanical plot structures) were the easiest things to learn, that he could tell we’d work fine together, and that he’d heard nothing but good things from the folks at White Wolf, that they were really excited about the book.  “Just great,” he said in mock alarm, “Now they’re not just expecting a novel as good as their other novels…”

I think I might have beamed a bit.  “Thanks,” I said, “That…helps my hangover considerably.”

This week, I caught the stench of death.  I knew my computer didn’t have much time.  So I made the switch from PC to MAC and have spent much of the week in the laborious enterprise of safely getting all of my files over from one computer to the next . . . just in time for my PC to die on the last load.

That catches us up to now.  There could be more details…but I have a party to prepare.

…one more thing though.

Sometimes one of your own gets their feelings hurt.  Real bad.  And there isn’t much you can do.  Sometimes all you can do is give them an incredibly expensive journal from your own private stores, and let them bleed it all onto the page.

See.

The page is the skin—is the soul.

See.

You bleed out in pen scrawl-slices, spill the bad blood until your humors balance out.

Bleed out long enough and your humors balance out.