Learn how to write like an arrogant bastard. Read my essays on the art of novel writing. Do I know what I'm talking about? Who knows? But that's the genius of it. New lessons will be posted at random. Learn to use sarcasm like a professional. Learn to write interesting characters. Learn to break rules and tell stories the way you think they should be told. And it's free! Just click the link and read it. Then you can go back to your porn.
http://www.writerscafe.org/courses/The-Right-Way-to-Write-Wrong/658/
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
New Junk on Writer's Cafe
Just a quick update. Go to my Writer's Cafe page to read the first 3 chapters of Jack's Inferno, plus random excerpts and new short stories.
http://www.writerscafe.org/jacksinferno
http://www.writerscafe.org/jacksinferno
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
The worst focus group ever
Do you have any idea how hard it is to make someone read a book? Because I didn't until I wrote one.
Now this might be a good time to confess that I know absolutely nothing about the technical nuances concerning the art of writing. No academic training in the field whatsoever. Hell, I went to art school. I'm barely even literate. All my books are filled with pictures. Format and punctuation are a mystery to me. But I can tell a story. And I can tell a joke. And I can tell the most preposterous lies about the most improbable things in perfect deadpan. And because I'm older than the internet, I still know how to spell. More or less.
I like to think of Jack's Inferno--not just Volume One, but the entire trilogy--not so much as genre fiction or literary fiction or fantasy or horror...but simply as an epic anecdote. Just a clever and interesting yarn about some crazy shit that happened. Is it true? Of course not. Okay, maybe some of it. Or a lot of it. But it's fiction. My attourney will attest to that. Any similarities between crimes and sins of the author and that of the protagonist are purely coincidental and none of your goddamned business. It's brutal satire and drunken philosophy. It's horror-comedy for the desensitized.
But getting back to the focus group. Because I have no academic credentials, I felt it would be a good idea to distribute some review copies of earlier drafts of the book to a select group of friends in order to get general feedback and proofreading. Here's how that went:
"I wrote a novel."
"That's awesome! I'd love to read it!"
"Okay, here's a copy. You're in the focus group. Let me know what you think."
ONE MONTH LATER
"So what did you think?"
"Haven't started on it yet."
"Huh."
TWO MONTHS LATER
"So did you ever get around to that book?"
"No, I've been really busy."
"Yeah, I know what that's like. I've been busy trying to publish a novel. Well, good luck on that math test."
THREE MONTHS LATER
"So...about that book I wrote..."
"You wrote a book? Cool! What's it called?"
But I did manage to get a few people to read it.
"I had no idea you could write!"
"Neither did I."
Now this might be a good time to confess that I know absolutely nothing about the technical nuances concerning the art of writing. No academic training in the field whatsoever. Hell, I went to art school. I'm barely even literate. All my books are filled with pictures. Format and punctuation are a mystery to me. But I can tell a story. And I can tell a joke. And I can tell the most preposterous lies about the most improbable things in perfect deadpan. And because I'm older than the internet, I still know how to spell. More or less.
I like to think of Jack's Inferno--not just Volume One, but the entire trilogy--not so much as genre fiction or literary fiction or fantasy or horror...but simply as an epic anecdote. Just a clever and interesting yarn about some crazy shit that happened. Is it true? Of course not. Okay, maybe some of it. Or a lot of it. But it's fiction. My attourney will attest to that. Any similarities between crimes and sins of the author and that of the protagonist are purely coincidental and none of your goddamned business. It's brutal satire and drunken philosophy. It's horror-comedy for the desensitized.
But getting back to the focus group. Because I have no academic credentials, I felt it would be a good idea to distribute some review copies of earlier drafts of the book to a select group of friends in order to get general feedback and proofreading. Here's how that went:
"I wrote a novel."
"That's awesome! I'd love to read it!"
"Okay, here's a copy. You're in the focus group. Let me know what you think."
ONE MONTH LATER
"So what did you think?"
"Haven't started on it yet."
"Huh."
TWO MONTHS LATER
"So did you ever get around to that book?"
"No, I've been really busy."
"Yeah, I know what that's like. I've been busy trying to publish a novel. Well, good luck on that math test."
THREE MONTHS LATER
"So...about that book I wrote..."
"You wrote a book? Cool! What's it called?"
But I did manage to get a few people to read it.
"I had no idea you could write!"
"Neither did I."
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Jack's Inferno: top ten finalist in the Fresh Blood manuscript contest
Yeah, so I wrote a book. It's called Jack's Inferno Volume One. It's a black comedy about Hell. I submitted the manuscript to the Fresh Blood competition sponsored by Leisure Horror and Chizine Publications, and I made the top ten. Voting will begin in mid January on http://www.chizine.com/ or http://chizine.com/chizinepub More info at http://dorchesterpub.com/Dorch/SpecialFeatures.cfm?ID=2757 Winner gets a publishing deal including mass market paperback and limited edition hardcover. I will be posting random excerpts and plot and character descriptions from time to time. Just to get you started, here's the back-of-the-book synopsis.
WORST F***ING DAY OF MY LIFE
Let me tell you about my day. I died. That was my morning. Death pulled up in a '76 Cadillac Eldorado. He was drunk and crazy. By the time we wrecked, so was I.
Hitchhiked across Hell with a truck-driving Judas-freak off his meds. Rode a burning slave ship across the Acheron, then hit the gift shop. Got a bad reception from the locals in a backwoods necropolis. Stopped at a greasepit diner and bailed on the check. Took a ride through the woods and got carjacked by some roadkill. Long story, don't ask. Slept with a housewife in Limbo. Her husband tried to sacrifice me to Moloch. Had a tea party with King Minos and some dead hookers. Anubis gave me drugs. Met a pimp named Grendel. Hit up a strip joint and almost got gang raped by satyrs. Married a demon at gunpoint, but I left the chapel in flames. Went bankrupt in a poker game with three dogs and Toulouse Lautrec in the basement of a place called "The Screaming Whore."
Beyond that, I have no idea what's going on.
WORST F***ING DAY OF MY LIFE
Let me tell you about my day. I died. That was my morning. Death pulled up in a '76 Cadillac Eldorado. He was drunk and crazy. By the time we wrecked, so was I.
Hitchhiked across Hell with a truck-driving Judas-freak off his meds. Rode a burning slave ship across the Acheron, then hit the gift shop. Got a bad reception from the locals in a backwoods necropolis. Stopped at a greasepit diner and bailed on the check. Took a ride through the woods and got carjacked by some roadkill. Long story, don't ask. Slept with a housewife in Limbo. Her husband tried to sacrifice me to Moloch. Had a tea party with King Minos and some dead hookers. Anubis gave me drugs. Met a pimp named Grendel. Hit up a strip joint and almost got gang raped by satyrs. Married a demon at gunpoint, but I left the chapel in flames. Went bankrupt in a poker game with three dogs and Toulouse Lautrec in the basement of a place called "The Screaming Whore."
Beyond that, I have no idea what's going on.
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