"If this is the best of all possible worlds, what are the others like?"
-voltaire
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
THE LITMUS TEST
How does a writer know when he or she has written a bad story? Is there some sort of internal meter that alerts one to the fact that they might be creating crap? And if so, is this a natural ability or one that must be honed over several years of steadfast drivel-producing?
Nobody really knows the answer to that last question, but there are some interesting theories regarding it. I tend to favor the one that says it is primarily the result of instinct honed over time, but feedback is essential to the development of this skill. That’s where writers’ workshops and honest friends come in handy.
When I first tried my hand at serious writing in my teens, I naturally gravitated toward novels. That was what I read and that was what I thought was the pinnacle of fiction writing. However, a few college level creative writing courses forced me out of my comfort zone and into the realm of short story writing. Years later a science fiction writers workshop would do the same thing.
I discovered a previously untapped potential in the shorter forms, especially in the field of genre fiction where often the pay-off or hook is an important component of the tale being told. I found I truly enjoyed reading short fiction in most of its formats and genres and so I began writing my own.
Man, did it suck in the beginning! Imitative, derivative, and lackluster are the words that come to mind when I think back to those early days of short story writing. Possessing none of the progress I’d made in my novel writing attempts, it was a period of starting over from scratch for me. Luckily, it didn’t take long for me to catch up.
Still, there were some humiliations and harsh criticisms along the way. I mentioned one of them some months back where an entire roomful of aspiring writers took turns ridiculing one of my stories for its clichés only later to realize it had been a first draft. Some of them didn’t care, some of them did. That was when I realized it doesn’t pay to practice empathy in this field unless it is reciprocal.
Still, I leanred some harsh lessons that summer in Lawrence, Kansas, chief among them not to show anybody what I’ve written until I can no longer tell if it’s crap. Sadly, it was during this learning curve experience that I showed a couple stories to a friend of mine whose taste in literature I consider to be mostly very good. One of them was a novella about a private investigator who literally finds himself taking a case in hell. The other was a parody of cute, fuzzy alien stories.
He didn’t like either one of them.
In fact, he hated the fuzzy alien one with a passion unrivaled. Unfortunately, I had to hear about it from a mutual friend first. This friend advised me that the reader of my hopeful little satire expressed to him some measure of trepidation over how exactly to let him know he hated my story. I’m not exaggerating my word choices here. He hated it.
Naturally I approached him and told him how disappointed I was that he didn’t feel able to just come to me and tell me how he felt about the story. He apologized and proceeded to tell me what eh felt didn’t work. I got the distinct impression he didn’t know what I was parodying, but some of his points were valid. I thought the concept of furry little aliens who have conned almost every human on the planet into thinking they’re harmless except the crew that brought them to Earth was rather amusing, but his criticisms were so negative I put it away and never even attempted a rewrite.
Similarly, the private eye tale was one he felt was written well but contained one major cliché that ruined the story. I was aware of the cliché and included it as a tongue-in-cheek nod to the idea that this particular development would be inevitable in hell. It probably didn’t work as well as I’d hoped, so I re-thiought that one too but never did any kind of rewrite.
Yes, I was a tad discouraged but I also was in the midst of changing my approach to writing. The fuzzy alien story was from my earlier stage of experimentalism. My writing changed after that, improving markedly according to James Gunn, author of several science fiction stories and creator of the first college level curriculum on science fiction in the United States. Ironically, I later abandoned SF and moved toward more of a dark fantasy and magical realism approach to my work.
That was when everything took off for me. I honed my instincts with those stories, becoming disturbingly good at writing stories about murderous psychopaths who saw themselves as the heroes in their own melodramas. My mother’s psychological background has always served me well when delving into the inner working of the demented mind. Make of that what you will.
As the eyars have marched ever onward toward oblivion, I have developed a certain litmus test for bad storytelling. I’ve reached a point where my instincts usually know when to discard an idea while still in the conceptual stage, although a few pieces of drek filter through as early drafts to be discarded soon after.
Currently I’m working on a collection of short stories. I think most of them are pretty good. I’ve learned quite a bit over the years and it seems to be working when I sit down to breathe life into these tales that randomly come to mind. None of them so far have given me that “uh-oh” feeling that says I am toiling away at garbage. Of course, I often wait a while once the first draft is completed to go back and review what I did. I try to read with the eye of an objective reader, sometimes a painful experience. But it’s worth it when I am finished and don’t feel the urge to toss it into the fireplace.
How do writers know when they’ve written bad stories? I think we just hope for the best and abandon the work to the scrutiny of others~
Nobody really knows the answer to that last question, but there are some interesting theories regarding it. I tend to favor the one that says it is primarily the result of instinct honed over time, but feedback is essential to the development of this skill. That’s where writers’ workshops and honest friends come in handy.
When I first tried my hand at serious writing in my teens, I naturally gravitated toward novels. That was what I read and that was what I thought was the pinnacle of fiction writing. However, a few college level creative writing courses forced me out of my comfort zone and into the realm of short story writing. Years later a science fiction writers workshop would do the same thing.
I discovered a previously untapped potential in the shorter forms, especially in the field of genre fiction where often the pay-off or hook is an important component of the tale being told. I found I truly enjoyed reading short fiction in most of its formats and genres and so I began writing my own.
Man, did it suck in the beginning! Imitative, derivative, and lackluster are the words that come to mind when I think back to those early days of short story writing. Possessing none of the progress I’d made in my novel writing attempts, it was a period of starting over from scratch for me. Luckily, it didn’t take long for me to catch up.
Still, there were some humiliations and harsh criticisms along the way. I mentioned one of them some months back where an entire roomful of aspiring writers took turns ridiculing one of my stories for its clichés only later to realize it had been a first draft. Some of them didn’t care, some of them did. That was when I realized it doesn’t pay to practice empathy in this field unless it is reciprocal.
Still, I leanred some harsh lessons that summer in Lawrence, Kansas, chief among them not to show anybody what I’ve written until I can no longer tell if it’s crap. Sadly, it was during this learning curve experience that I showed a couple stories to a friend of mine whose taste in literature I consider to be mostly very good. One of them was a novella about a private investigator who literally finds himself taking a case in hell. The other was a parody of cute, fuzzy alien stories.
He didn’t like either one of them.
In fact, he hated the fuzzy alien one with a passion unrivaled. Unfortunately, I had to hear about it from a mutual friend first. This friend advised me that the reader of my hopeful little satire expressed to him some measure of trepidation over how exactly to let him know he hated my story. I’m not exaggerating my word choices here. He hated it.
Naturally I approached him and told him how disappointed I was that he didn’t feel able to just come to me and tell me how he felt about the story. He apologized and proceeded to tell me what eh felt didn’t work. I got the distinct impression he didn’t know what I was parodying, but some of his points were valid. I thought the concept of furry little aliens who have conned almost every human on the planet into thinking they’re harmless except the crew that brought them to Earth was rather amusing, but his criticisms were so negative I put it away and never even attempted a rewrite.
Similarly, the private eye tale was one he felt was written well but contained one major cliché that ruined the story. I was aware of the cliché and included it as a tongue-in-cheek nod to the idea that this particular development would be inevitable in hell. It probably didn’t work as well as I’d hoped, so I re-thiought that one too but never did any kind of rewrite.
Yes, I was a tad discouraged but I also was in the midst of changing my approach to writing. The fuzzy alien story was from my earlier stage of experimentalism. My writing changed after that, improving markedly according to James Gunn, author of several science fiction stories and creator of the first college level curriculum on science fiction in the United States. Ironically, I later abandoned SF and moved toward more of a dark fantasy and magical realism approach to my work.
That was when everything took off for me. I honed my instincts with those stories, becoming disturbingly good at writing stories about murderous psychopaths who saw themselves as the heroes in their own melodramas. My mother’s psychological background has always served me well when delving into the inner working of the demented mind. Make of that what you will.
As the eyars have marched ever onward toward oblivion, I have developed a certain litmus test for bad storytelling. I’ve reached a point where my instincts usually know when to discard an idea while still in the conceptual stage, although a few pieces of drek filter through as early drafts to be discarded soon after.
Currently I’m working on a collection of short stories. I think most of them are pretty good. I’ve learned quite a bit over the years and it seems to be working when I sit down to breathe life into these tales that randomly come to mind. None of them so far have given me that “uh-oh” feeling that says I am toiling away at garbage. Of course, I often wait a while once the first draft is completed to go back and review what I did. I try to read with the eye of an objective reader, sometimes a painful experience. But it’s worth it when I am finished and don’t feel the urge to toss it into the fireplace.
How do writers know when they’ve written bad stories? I think we just hope for the best and abandon the work to the scrutiny of others~
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
FINISH THE DAMN SENTENCE (Swiped from Priscilla)
1. I've come to realize that my last kiss......What does this mean? Am I supposed to be analyzing kisses? What kind of turd-like robotic creature does that? Sad.
2. I am listening to... The insipid, whiney sounds of customers with unrealistic expectations who somehow seem pleased with their experiences when they are finished talking to me.
3. I talk......But no one really listens.
4. I love......But no one really believes it.
5. My best friend......Showed himself to be quite the stand-up guy recently.
6. My first real kiss...Transported me to a land populated by leprechauns and talking bunny rabbits, where the light of the world was sparked by the smiles of the happy people and nowhere was their pain or suffering. Then I had my first sexual experience and everybody was disappointed.
7. Love is......A closing door. That's a line from a song I wrote some years ago. If you're wondering about the next line, it rhymes with door, refers to a woman who performs sex acts for money, and is preceded by the word "lying."
8. Marriage is......What people make of it which, from observation, is something truly annoying and cult-like, especially if you're a member of Degeneration-X and below.
9. Somewhere, someone is thinking....... "Chris Nadeau undertstands me. He really gets me. Some day I'm going to hide under his bed and cut off his skin so I can wear it and we can become one. But first, would you like fries with that?"
10. I'll always be grateful for......The little things that make life worth living. The old lady sliding on the ice whose feet fly upwards at an angle as she hits the ground, mostly unhurt. Roadkill and the fascinaing stains it leaves in my street during seasonal changes. Neo-cons and their insane ramblings that make mine sound so much more rational. Organized religion, because it breeds the sort of discontent I require for my anarchy movement. Oh, and movie theater popcorn!
11. The last time I really cried was because...... I was relieved that she wasn't still in bed with me in the morning. Ba-dump-dump! Honestly, I was drunk so I don't remember the exact reason: I think it had something to do with the fact that I couldn't feel my extremities and I was dangling from the back of a turnip truck on the interstate. But I won't bore you with the rest of a story to which everyone can relate.
12. My cell phone........ kicks ass! And I'm not just saying that because I work for the company that sells it, I'm also saying it 'cause I don't wanna lose my job!
13. When I wake up in the morning......My feet hurt.
14. Before I go to bed...... I like to read. Some day perhaps someone will teach me how.
15. Right now I am thinking about....another blogger.
16. Babies are...... demonic beings whose true purpose is to enslave the human race and then morph into the very slaves they're creating. DON'T STEAL MY IDEA!!! NORA!!!
17. I get on Myspace...... and shake my head in disgust.
18. Today I..... am alone with my thoughts; get the turnip truck ready.
19. Tomorrow I will be.... listening to the insipid, whiney sounds of customers with unrealistic expectations who somehow seem pleased with their experiences when they are finished talking to me
20. I really want to be.....at peace.
21. Someone that will most likely repost this is...... Hopefully Nora, my colleague and drinking buddy.
2. I am listening to... The insipid, whiney sounds of customers with unrealistic expectations who somehow seem pleased with their experiences when they are finished talking to me.
3. I talk......But no one really listens.
4. I love......But no one really believes it.
5. My best friend......Showed himself to be quite the stand-up guy recently.
6. My first real kiss...Transported me to a land populated by leprechauns and talking bunny rabbits, where the light of the world was sparked by the smiles of the happy people and nowhere was their pain or suffering. Then I had my first sexual experience and everybody was disappointed.
7. Love is......A closing door. That's a line from a song I wrote some years ago. If you're wondering about the next line, it rhymes with door, refers to a woman who performs sex acts for money, and is preceded by the word "lying."
8. Marriage is......What people make of it which, from observation, is something truly annoying and cult-like, especially if you're a member of Degeneration-X and below.
9. Somewhere, someone is thinking....... "Chris Nadeau undertstands me. He really gets me. Some day I'm going to hide under his bed and cut off his skin so I can wear it and we can become one. But first, would you like fries with that?"
10. I'll always be grateful for......The little things that make life worth living. The old lady sliding on the ice whose feet fly upwards at an angle as she hits the ground, mostly unhurt. Roadkill and the fascinaing stains it leaves in my street during seasonal changes. Neo-cons and their insane ramblings that make mine sound so much more rational. Organized religion, because it breeds the sort of discontent I require for my anarchy movement. Oh, and movie theater popcorn!
11. The last time I really cried was because...... I was relieved that she wasn't still in bed with me in the morning. Ba-dump-dump! Honestly, I was drunk so I don't remember the exact reason: I think it had something to do with the fact that I couldn't feel my extremities and I was dangling from the back of a turnip truck on the interstate. But I won't bore you with the rest of a story to which everyone can relate.
12. My cell phone........ kicks ass! And I'm not just saying that because I work for the company that sells it, I'm also saying it 'cause I don't wanna lose my job!
13. When I wake up in the morning......My feet hurt.
14. Before I go to bed...... I like to read. Some day perhaps someone will teach me how.
15. Right now I am thinking about....another blogger.
16. Babies are...... demonic beings whose true purpose is to enslave the human race and then morph into the very slaves they're creating. DON'T STEAL MY IDEA!!! NORA!!!
17. I get on Myspace...... and shake my head in disgust.
18. Today I..... am alone with my thoughts; get the turnip truck ready.
19. Tomorrow I will be.... listening to the insipid, whiney sounds of customers with unrealistic expectations who somehow seem pleased with their experiences when they are finished talking to me
20. I really want to be.....at peace.
21. Someone that will most likely repost this is...... Hopefully Nora, my colleague and drinking buddy.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
ARE TV ADS REFLECTING OUR OWN SHORTCOMINGS OR CREATING THEM?
If you’re any kind of student of history, you may have seen some of the old Depression Era short films and advertisements. The former tended to portray strength and adversity in light of huge odds while the latter tended to reflect functionality and moderation. It frightens me to think that, in some ways, we as a society had more common sense in the days when open segregation and discrimination were the norm, but I can’t help but feel that way when I watch daytime television.
Due to my work schedule, I have Tuesdays off right now and so am able to bear witness to the horror that is daytime TV. Programming geared toward soccer moms, which seems to completely ignore retirees fills the TV screens from about 9:00a.m. until 5:00p.m. daily.
The other day I happened upon a soap opera and paid attention to some of the ads. What struck me most was their frequency. The same commercials must have run three times apiece in the time I watched, which comprised less than an hour overall. The content of those ads was, in my opinion, reprehensible and irresponsible.
In keeping with the modern American mentality of ignoring reality in favor of material gain, these ads glorified the idealized soccer mom with too much free time on her hands giddily shopping and indulging her every urge. Never mind that the barbarians are at the gates, these women are driving gas guzzling SUV’s while sporting sensible hairdos and grinning from ear to ear.
Frankly, it was disgusting. I realize the soap opera programming block is designed to appeal to the fantasy lives of mostly female audiences while presenting them with enough tragedy to feel good about themselves, but must the ads portray a world of obnoxious excess in a nation suffering an unsure economic future? Is there an argument to be made that, as former Executive-in-Chimp Dubya said, we just need to keep shoppin’ and everything will get better? No.
It should be obvious to anyone with a modicum of intelligence that nothing trickles down in hard times. The rich don’t spend and when they don’t spend, it falls to those of us in the middle class to pick up the tab. The poor sure as hell can’t do it, although Rush Limbaugh would love to tax them anyway, according to his “Tax the Poor” initiative.
Sadly, the middle class is often the forgotten stepchild of American society. As generally strong earners who can’t stop working, middle class people are encouraged to support a rather demented economy with ads that make people think they need non-essential goods. As if that isn’t enough, there is a strong undercurrent of unrealistic opportunity that had no small part in the current state of affairs.
But let’s forget about the pursuit of giant screen TV’s and get rich quick real estate scams for a moment. Let’s put aside the fact that advertising for SUV’s and min-vans was so successful it derailed the automotive industry as soon as the inevitable increase in gas prices took place. Let’s instead focus on the here and now.
The here is the aforementioned United States with the uncertain future, and the now is a situation where people have only begrudgingly accepted that sad fact. Instead of a “we’re in this together” approach to the problem, we get splintered, fragmented reactions ranging from panic to denial.
I waited until now to mention the fact that we are also at war. It doesn’t matter whether you think it is a just war or not. During World War II, people understood the need for sacrifice and commonality. There were conscientious objectors even then, although nowhere near as many as Iraq has created. We rationed back then. We had posters advising us to refrain from excessive spending and usage of materials and we did.
Since then, we’ve mutated into a consumer culture. Americans no longer value moderation and public service. It’s all about what we can get, how much the world owes us, and what we can hold onto when times are hard. And what of those who should know better? What are they doing?
Isn’t it obvious? They’re reaping the benefits of our stupidity and arrogance. They know us better than we know ourselves. They see the hollowness in our eyes and hear the lack of conviction in our words. They prey upon our desires and disregard our needs. Maybe there’s a conspiracy involving government and large corporations and maybe there isn’t. Either way, nothing can take place without our consent or inaction.
If nobody says anything, it didn’t really happen. If nobody complains, it is assumed we don’t have a problem with what’s happening. We can’t have it both ways. We can’t complain about the economy and then indulge our excesses.
Advertisers should be ashamed of themselves, but so should we~
Due to my work schedule, I have Tuesdays off right now and so am able to bear witness to the horror that is daytime TV. Programming geared toward soccer moms, which seems to completely ignore retirees fills the TV screens from about 9:00a.m. until 5:00p.m. daily.
The other day I happened upon a soap opera and paid attention to some of the ads. What struck me most was their frequency. The same commercials must have run three times apiece in the time I watched, which comprised less than an hour overall. The content of those ads was, in my opinion, reprehensible and irresponsible.
In keeping with the modern American mentality of ignoring reality in favor of material gain, these ads glorified the idealized soccer mom with too much free time on her hands giddily shopping and indulging her every urge. Never mind that the barbarians are at the gates, these women are driving gas guzzling SUV’s while sporting sensible hairdos and grinning from ear to ear.
Frankly, it was disgusting. I realize the soap opera programming block is designed to appeal to the fantasy lives of mostly female audiences while presenting them with enough tragedy to feel good about themselves, but must the ads portray a world of obnoxious excess in a nation suffering an unsure economic future? Is there an argument to be made that, as former Executive-in-Chimp Dubya said, we just need to keep shoppin’ and everything will get better? No.
It should be obvious to anyone with a modicum of intelligence that nothing trickles down in hard times. The rich don’t spend and when they don’t spend, it falls to those of us in the middle class to pick up the tab. The poor sure as hell can’t do it, although Rush Limbaugh would love to tax them anyway, according to his “Tax the Poor” initiative.
Sadly, the middle class is often the forgotten stepchild of American society. As generally strong earners who can’t stop working, middle class people are encouraged to support a rather demented economy with ads that make people think they need non-essential goods. As if that isn’t enough, there is a strong undercurrent of unrealistic opportunity that had no small part in the current state of affairs.
But let’s forget about the pursuit of giant screen TV’s and get rich quick real estate scams for a moment. Let’s put aside the fact that advertising for SUV’s and min-vans was so successful it derailed the automotive industry as soon as the inevitable increase in gas prices took place. Let’s instead focus on the here and now.
The here is the aforementioned United States with the uncertain future, and the now is a situation where people have only begrudgingly accepted that sad fact. Instead of a “we’re in this together” approach to the problem, we get splintered, fragmented reactions ranging from panic to denial.
I waited until now to mention the fact that we are also at war. It doesn’t matter whether you think it is a just war or not. During World War II, people understood the need for sacrifice and commonality. There were conscientious objectors even then, although nowhere near as many as Iraq has created. We rationed back then. We had posters advising us to refrain from excessive spending and usage of materials and we did.
Since then, we’ve mutated into a consumer culture. Americans no longer value moderation and public service. It’s all about what we can get, how much the world owes us, and what we can hold onto when times are hard. And what of those who should know better? What are they doing?
Isn’t it obvious? They’re reaping the benefits of our stupidity and arrogance. They know us better than we know ourselves. They see the hollowness in our eyes and hear the lack of conviction in our words. They prey upon our desires and disregard our needs. Maybe there’s a conspiracy involving government and large corporations and maybe there isn’t. Either way, nothing can take place without our consent or inaction.
If nobody says anything, it didn’t really happen. If nobody complains, it is assumed we don’t have a problem with what’s happening. We can’t have it both ways. We can’t complain about the economy and then indulge our excesses.
Advertisers should be ashamed of themselves, but so should we~
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
FOR ONCE, A LIST I DIDN'T CREATE:
USING ONLY ONE WORD
Not as easy as you might think!
1. Where is your cell phone? Desk
2. Your hair? Vanishing
3. Your mother? Missed
4. Your father? Tragedy
5.. Your favorite thing? Reading
6. Your dream last night? Nothing
7. Your favorite drink? Coffee
8. Your dream/goal? Bestseller
9. What Room are you in? Office
10. Your hobby? Demagoguery
11. Your fear? Mediocrity
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Nirvana
13. Where were you last night? Library
14. Something that you aren’t? Annoying
15. Breakfast? Rarely
16. Wish list item? Royalties
17. Where you grew up? Michigan
18. Last thing you ate? Diunner
19. What are you wearing? Sweater
20. Your TV? Antiquated
21. Your pets? Entertaining
22. Friends? Generous
23. Your life? Evolving
24. Your mood? Eh
25. Missing someone? Yep
26. Your car? Massive
27. Something you’re not wearing? Thong :(
28. Your favorite store? Borders
29. Your favorite color? Blue-Green
30. When is the last time you laughed? Earlier
31. Last time you cried? 2008
32. Who will resend this? jesus
33. One place that I go to over and over? Work
34. One person who emails me regularly: Minister Faust, 'cause he loves me so. Shit, I broke the one-word rule.
35. Favorite place to eat: Udipi
36. One place I would like to go right now? Japan
37. One person I think will respond: Irrelevant
38. One TV show I watch all the time: Lost
Pretty lame, I know. Blame the "recovering Baptist" from whom I stole this. Until my book is out, I don't really have much else to say~
Not as easy as you might think!
1. Where is your cell phone? Desk
2. Your hair? Vanishing
3. Your mother? Missed
4. Your father? Tragedy
5.. Your favorite thing? Reading
6. Your dream last night? Nothing
7. Your favorite drink? Coffee
8. Your dream/goal? Bestseller
9. What Room are you in? Office
10. Your hobby? Demagoguery
11. Your fear? Mediocrity
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Nirvana
13. Where were you last night? Library
14. Something that you aren’t? Annoying
15. Breakfast? Rarely
16. Wish list item? Royalties
17. Where you grew up? Michigan
18. Last thing you ate? Diunner
19. What are you wearing? Sweater
20. Your TV? Antiquated
21. Your pets? Entertaining
22. Friends? Generous
23. Your life? Evolving
24. Your mood? Eh
25. Missing someone? Yep
26. Your car? Massive
27. Something you’re not wearing? Thong :(
28. Your favorite store? Borders
29. Your favorite color? Blue-Green
30. When is the last time you laughed? Earlier
31. Last time you cried? 2008
32. Who will resend this? jesus
33. One place that I go to over and over? Work
34. One person who emails me regularly: Minister Faust, 'cause he loves me so. Shit, I broke the one-word rule.
35. Favorite place to eat: Udipi
36. One place I would like to go right now? Japan
37. One person I think will respond: Irrelevant
38. One TV show I watch all the time: Lost
Pretty lame, I know. Blame the "recovering Baptist" from whom I stole this. Until my book is out, I don't really have much else to say~
Friday, January 9, 2009
Sunday, January 4, 2009
ANOTHER LIST
In the spirit of not losing readership as well as interest, I have decided to go ahead and post a hastily prepared list of fiction-related stuff for your perusal and eventual use. Forgive any perceived negativity contained within, as I simply can’t help it right now.
Pretend to enjoy:
MOST PECULIAR READING TASTE- Autobiographies of non-famous people. If someone can make him or herself interesting without the benefit of fame and publicity junkets prior to publication, that is a real writer. Two recommendations are “7 Tattoos” by Peter Trachtenberg & “Oh the Glory of it All” by Sean Wilsey.
MOST POLITICALLY INCORRECT NOVEL YOU HAVE READ-All of his novels are, but Chuck Palahniuk’s most recent novel “Snuff” is the all-time winner. (Describe plot)
TWO BOOKS YOU THREW DOWN IN DISGUST, HALF-FINISHED- Dan Brown’s “Angels & Demons” was so predictable that I actually found myself saying, “OK, this is gonna happen next” and it did! After 100 pages, I simple couldn’t take it anymore. John Saul’s “Creature” started off as intriguing and became so ludicrous in its characterizations that I could no longer finish reading it, either…I was nineteen!
LEAST FAVORITE LITERARY GENRE- It’s easy to pick on the Romance field as it is the most formulaic and least creative of the literary genres. But it was never intended to be more than that, so I refuse to take unfair advantage. Instead, I choose the science fiction sub-genre known as “cyber-punk,” a once revolutionary movement that is now a sad echo that refuses to fade away. Even its godfather, William Gibson, has all but abandoned it.
BEST ONE-HIT WONDER” NOVEL-Richard Bowes’ “Minions of the Moon” is a masterpiece of mood, suspense and characterization. I suspect this might be a pseudonym for a more well known writer, but if not, it’s the most impressive one-hit wonder I’ve ever encountered.
WORST NOVEL RECOMMENDED BY SOMEONE YOU USUALLY RESPECT- My mom, the woman who taught me to love the written word, recommended Dean Koontz’s “The Bad Place.” Not a terrible novel at all, but once you discover it’s a direct rip-off of Robert A. Heinlein’s “The Unpleasant Profession of Jonathan Hoag” complete with the witty private eye couple, it gets a very low rating indeed.
LOVED BY CRITICS HATED BY YOU- Like snowflakes, it’s impossible to reach out and grab all the things that fly in front of my eyes when I think of the much-lauded garbage the critics tend to love. Most of the books I read don’t feature the New York Times Bestseller tag on them. But one novel I absolutely hated came from a writer I absolutely adore. The award-winning “Something Wicked This Way Comes” did not appeal to me at all with its alienating writing style and agonizingly slow pace.
BOOK YOU THINK WOULD MAKE A GREAT FILM THAT WILL PROBABLY NEVER GET MADE- James Morrow’s “Towing Jehovah.” At on time my favorite novel, this tale of the death of God and how we dispose of his corpse is at turns funny, philosophical and suspenseful. Never happen.
ONE WRITER WHOSE PROSE REMINDS YOU OF THE WORK OF A THIRD GRADER- Anne Rice! Next?
STRANGEST IDEA FOR A NOVEL THAT SUCCEEDED ADMIRABLY- Bradley Denton’s “Buddy Holly is Alive & Well on Ganymede.” Any novel featuring killer cyborg dogs, aliens and a live TV broadcast from the surface of one of Jupiter’s moons with a clueless Buddy Holly could fall apart under its own eccentricities in the hands of a lesser writer.
There, suck on that for a while. Easy, easy! There's enough to go around!
Pretend to enjoy:
MOST PECULIAR READING TASTE- Autobiographies of non-famous people. If someone can make him or herself interesting without the benefit of fame and publicity junkets prior to publication, that is a real writer. Two recommendations are “7 Tattoos” by Peter Trachtenberg & “Oh the Glory of it All” by Sean Wilsey.
MOST POLITICALLY INCORRECT NOVEL YOU HAVE READ-All of his novels are, but Chuck Palahniuk’s most recent novel “Snuff” is the all-time winner. (Describe plot)
TWO BOOKS YOU THREW DOWN IN DISGUST, HALF-FINISHED- Dan Brown’s “Angels & Demons” was so predictable that I actually found myself saying, “OK, this is gonna happen next” and it did! After 100 pages, I simple couldn’t take it anymore. John Saul’s “Creature” started off as intriguing and became so ludicrous in its characterizations that I could no longer finish reading it, either…I was nineteen!
LEAST FAVORITE LITERARY GENRE- It’s easy to pick on the Romance field as it is the most formulaic and least creative of the literary genres. But it was never intended to be more than that, so I refuse to take unfair advantage. Instead, I choose the science fiction sub-genre known as “cyber-punk,” a once revolutionary movement that is now a sad echo that refuses to fade away. Even its godfather, William Gibson, has all but abandoned it.
BEST ONE-HIT WONDER” NOVEL-Richard Bowes’ “Minions of the Moon” is a masterpiece of mood, suspense and characterization. I suspect this might be a pseudonym for a more well known writer, but if not, it’s the most impressive one-hit wonder I’ve ever encountered.
WORST NOVEL RECOMMENDED BY SOMEONE YOU USUALLY RESPECT- My mom, the woman who taught me to love the written word, recommended Dean Koontz’s “The Bad Place.” Not a terrible novel at all, but once you discover it’s a direct rip-off of Robert A. Heinlein’s “The Unpleasant Profession of Jonathan Hoag” complete with the witty private eye couple, it gets a very low rating indeed.
LOVED BY CRITICS HATED BY YOU- Like snowflakes, it’s impossible to reach out and grab all the things that fly in front of my eyes when I think of the much-lauded garbage the critics tend to love. Most of the books I read don’t feature the New York Times Bestseller tag on them. But one novel I absolutely hated came from a writer I absolutely adore. The award-winning “Something Wicked This Way Comes” did not appeal to me at all with its alienating writing style and agonizingly slow pace.
BOOK YOU THINK WOULD MAKE A GREAT FILM THAT WILL PROBABLY NEVER GET MADE- James Morrow’s “Towing Jehovah.” At on time my favorite novel, this tale of the death of God and how we dispose of his corpse is at turns funny, philosophical and suspenseful. Never happen.
ONE WRITER WHOSE PROSE REMINDS YOU OF THE WORK OF A THIRD GRADER- Anne Rice! Next?
STRANGEST IDEA FOR A NOVEL THAT SUCCEEDED ADMIRABLY- Bradley Denton’s “Buddy Holly is Alive & Well on Ganymede.” Any novel featuring killer cyborg dogs, aliens and a live TV broadcast from the surface of one of Jupiter’s moons with a clueless Buddy Holly could fall apart under its own eccentricities in the hands of a lesser writer.
There, suck on that for a while. Easy, easy! There's enough to go around!
Saturday, December 20, 2008
MAY I PROUDLY PRESENT
My colleague & friend Nora Cook Smith now available on Amazon!
Her book, not her. She's married.
http://www.amazon.com/Not-So-Perfect-Christmas/dp/0979029945/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1229831301&sr=1-1
Her book, not her. She's married.
http://www.amazon.com/Not-So-Perfect-Christmas/dp/0979029945/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1229831301&sr=1-1
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
MAKING MYSELF THINK
Biggest idiot in the public eye. He’s no longer in the public eye what with the prison sentence and the potential buggering and all, but Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick is my choice. Had it all and blew it with his wanna-be-a-gangsta antics, embarrassing a city and anyone who looks like him in the process.
Funniest thing you’ve heard in a long time. Air America, the only radio network for us godless commie liberals, has the Stephanie Miler show in the morning, which is 1 part shtick and 3 parts funny. The guy that does all the voices did a skit where Sara Palin was hunting grizzly bears from her chopper and wound up shooting Boo-Boo, prompting Yogi to go on a righteous killing spree.
Most ridiculous belief system. It’s a habit of mine to study crazy dogmas out there but most of you won’t know what I’m taking about so I will keep my choice mainstream and simple: Suffice it to say Mormons will always be safely in the number two spot so long as Scientology is around.
Biggest culprit in the dumbing down of America. Rather than a single person, I blame a thing: Reality TV.
One group of people you can’t help but be prejudice against. Blue collar (redneck) conservatives. I really can't help it. There is no group of people more damaging to the national good and I can't respect their choice.
Worst. Job. Ever. Imagine yourself on a bus full of environmental weirdoes heading into a blue collar town that thinks it’s not a blue collar town, trapped there for 8 hours walking door-to-door with a well-meaning Canuck trying to solicit donations for clean water and you might come close to knowing my pain.
One book, excluding the Bible, you can reread several times. NOT THE BIBLE! Vonnegut’s “Breakfast of Champions.” I be readin’ dat all da time ‘cause it be teachin’ me shit like how to be literateness…
Your secret, unrealized dream. This is my first time revealing this, but to act in the filmed versions of some of my novels. You can laugh now.
Current workplace crush, yes or no? Yeah, every five feet. Every six inches during lunch. They can't help themselves! I'm a walkin' tri-pod of manly goodness...and possibly one of only five straight males out of a hundred who looks like he bathes on a regular basis.
Whatcha currently reading? Any good? Just started a collection of Truman Capote’s essays. His imagery and ability to capture moments like snapshots suspended in time is incredible. He is truly an underrated master craftsman, which is superior to being a master baiter in the fishing industry.
Ever been sexually harassed at work? it is possible to be harrassed when you encourage the behavior?
Ever sexually harassed anyone at work? Never. it usually happened to me first.
The nature of God in seven words or less. Schiphrenic. Whimsical. Insane. Sadistic. Megalomaniac. Oprah.
Ever experimented with drugs? Nope. I saw the prize winners around me who got high and wanted nothing to do with them.
Alone or coupled off, which is preferable? Can't I have both?
The one movie you can relate to most. Donnie Darko. See it then ask me why.
One medication you can’t live without. Excedrin. The miracle pill. Without it, I would skid home in my own vomit thanks to chronic migraines. Still, I'd save a lot on gas, wouldn't I?
Your favorite article of clothing you currently own. This is a trick question...I don't own any clothes.
Most annoying song. "Walking on Sunshine" which sends me into a blind rage. Anything by Maroon Five runs a close second.
Least favorite holiday and why. Easter. Holds no meaning for me and I still remember the dry, itchy suits and hot churches thanks to all the people being there who didn’t normally go to church.
Anyone interested in using this list on your own blogs feel free. We're all one community helping and caring for each other until my book comes out and I start forgetting all you sone of bitches ;)
Funniest thing you’ve heard in a long time. Air America, the only radio network for us godless commie liberals, has the Stephanie Miler show in the morning, which is 1 part shtick and 3 parts funny. The guy that does all the voices did a skit where Sara Palin was hunting grizzly bears from her chopper and wound up shooting Boo-Boo, prompting Yogi to go on a righteous killing spree.
Most ridiculous belief system. It’s a habit of mine to study crazy dogmas out there but most of you won’t know what I’m taking about so I will keep my choice mainstream and simple: Suffice it to say Mormons will always be safely in the number two spot so long as Scientology is around.
Biggest culprit in the dumbing down of America. Rather than a single person, I blame a thing: Reality TV.
One group of people you can’t help but be prejudice against. Blue collar (redneck) conservatives. I really can't help it. There is no group of people more damaging to the national good and I can't respect their choice.
Worst. Job. Ever. Imagine yourself on a bus full of environmental weirdoes heading into a blue collar town that thinks it’s not a blue collar town, trapped there for 8 hours walking door-to-door with a well-meaning Canuck trying to solicit donations for clean water and you might come close to knowing my pain.
One book, excluding the Bible, you can reread several times. NOT THE BIBLE! Vonnegut’s “Breakfast of Champions.” I be readin’ dat all da time ‘cause it be teachin’ me shit like how to be literateness…
Your secret, unrealized dream. This is my first time revealing this, but to act in the filmed versions of some of my novels. You can laugh now.
Current workplace crush, yes or no? Yeah, every five feet. Every six inches during lunch. They can't help themselves! I'm a walkin' tri-pod of manly goodness...and possibly one of only five straight males out of a hundred who looks like he bathes on a regular basis.
Whatcha currently reading? Any good? Just started a collection of Truman Capote’s essays. His imagery and ability to capture moments like snapshots suspended in time is incredible. He is truly an underrated master craftsman, which is superior to being a master baiter in the fishing industry.
Ever been sexually harassed at work? it is possible to be harrassed when you encourage the behavior?
Ever sexually harassed anyone at work? Never. it usually happened to me first.
The nature of God in seven words or less. Schiphrenic. Whimsical. Insane. Sadistic. Megalomaniac. Oprah.
Ever experimented with drugs? Nope. I saw the prize winners around me who got high and wanted nothing to do with them.
Alone or coupled off, which is preferable? Can't I have both?
The one movie you can relate to most. Donnie Darko. See it then ask me why.
One medication you can’t live without. Excedrin. The miracle pill. Without it, I would skid home in my own vomit thanks to chronic migraines. Still, I'd save a lot on gas, wouldn't I?
Your favorite article of clothing you currently own. This is a trick question...I don't own any clothes.
Most annoying song. "Walking on Sunshine" which sends me into a blind rage. Anything by Maroon Five runs a close second.
Least favorite holiday and why. Easter. Holds no meaning for me and I still remember the dry, itchy suits and hot churches thanks to all the people being there who didn’t normally go to church.
Anyone interested in using this list on your own blogs feel free. We're all one community helping and caring for each other until my book comes out and I start forgetting all you sone of bitches ;)
Monday, December 8, 2008
THE DEBATABLE NECESSITY OF SEQUELS
As a writer who likes to think he has some measure of artistic integrity, I am constantly at war with the concept of the sequel, not to mention the trilogy.
My issue with sequels and series novels in general is the exploitation of an idea. In many cases, writers are milking something that would have been brilliant in a single novel for all it’s worth. I suppose there’s nothing wrong with that. Everyone needs to make money and if it can be done while writing, that is the dream most of us will never realize.
However, when someone stretches a premise only because they want to capitalize on its success, they run the risk of diminishing whatever merits the original possessed. In addition, writers that do this tend to be one of two-trick ponies with very little else in their literary arsenal. Thus we wind up with the multi-epic, especially in the Fantasy field, that never seems to end or satisfy. It’s like tantric fiction.
None of my comments are meant to indicate I am opposed to writing sequels, however, because I have and probably will again. The difference is I don’t make the decision to write a sequel lightly. In fact, in most cases I write my novels with the intent of making them a single volume, but sometimes the concept simply outgrows the constraints of the format.
I have what I have termed an “urban dark fantasy epic” whose first novel is already written. I think it’s my best work, and many agree. But I really wanted it to be a single volume work. Unfortunately, it grew and grew to the point where, if I had stuck in all in one book, it would’ve been easily comparable to Stephen King’s “The Stand” in size!
So, I mentioned to my publisher that it would need to be broken up into two volumes. Ignoring the dollar signs in her eyes, I forlornly told her how I felt like I’d failed in my initial idea. Her response was to say, “Do you think you could make it a trilogy?”
I grabbed a hanky and wiped the drool from her mouth, although I think I skidded in some as I walked away, contemplating.
She told me to sit down in front of the computer and think about it. If I came up with anything, I was to let her know but if I didn’t, I had to scrub the toilets and bathe her neighbor’s cat. With the pressure on, I…okay, I’m lying. But something odd happened: a sequel idea came to mind that did not in any way compromise the vision! In fact, it fleshed it out perfectly.
I sat down and wrote out a basic synopsis in about ten minutes and showed it to her. She loved it and so did the other writers and artists in the room. I felt validated by that. In the months since, I have truly fallen in love with the idea.
Trilogies aren’t a big deal to me, though. It’s those obscenely lengthy series I have a problem with. Robert Jordan’s “Wheel of Time” series comes to mind. If not for untimely demise, Jordan would most likely still be writing those books.
Please don’t misunderstand me. There are ideas that require multiple installments. Every follow-up or sequel isn’t akin to the Hollywood approach of placing the same characters into different locales and calling it a continuation. Years ago, long before I had any inkling what I was doing, I came up with an epic of Star Wars proportions that would require a minimum of five books to tell the whole story. I wrote the first one in the back of Sociology classes when I was supposed to be paying attention. It is a huge novel filled with ideas and characters and complex motivations and spaceships and love and politics and…well, you get the idea.
My theory is that most writers of the non-literary elitist variety have at least one multi-epic in their headS doing rapid orbits. That’s not the point of this piece.
Simply put, those who write sequels and series merely for financial gAin have no artistic integrity and should be writing commercials for television. In my view, they contribute negatively to the world of writing and in no way distinguish themselves as good storytellers.
I am no fan of the Harry Potter books. I’ve never read them and I don’t find the concept even slightly interesting. But I must give JK Rowlings credit for one thing if nothing else. She designed an epic tale that required six books to tell it. Perhaps it’s not as complex and creative as Stephen King’s “Dark Tower” series, but Potter novels were justified in their length.
Writing about a character in a series is also a different matter. If, for instance, Robert B Parker wants to write for years about his Boston private eye Spenser, he is following a noble literary tradition. The crusading detective is a character unto himself and is more a plot device for mystery and intrigue than an ongoing story arc.
My forthcoming novel, “Dreamers at Infinity’s Core,” started off as a single volume novel as well. Once I’d finished it, I truly believed it was over. What more was there to be said about those characters or the concept? However, one early morning as I was headed out to work, I realized the story wasn’t over yet. It is now a trilogy, possibly increasingly inaccurately named, but I hope not.
My problem is I love the characters too much to let them go. They’re my children and I refuse to let them grow up. I don’t have much family left and have very little to do with them at this point in my life, so my writing has become family in many ways.
I suspect that may be true for a lot of writers, even those surrounded by family. We’re a lonely bunch by breed and definition and our characters transport us to somewhere more interesting and less difficult to understand.
Life is the series we try to capture. Some of us do it only for money, some do it for love of the craft. All of us should be mindful of the fact that there just might be somebody out there reading out work whose life is much worse and whose only refuge is his or her favorite novel.
That is also our family, and we have a responsibility to them to remain honest to who and what we are. Anything else is simply a TV commercial~
My issue with sequels and series novels in general is the exploitation of an idea. In many cases, writers are milking something that would have been brilliant in a single novel for all it’s worth. I suppose there’s nothing wrong with that. Everyone needs to make money and if it can be done while writing, that is the dream most of us will never realize.
However, when someone stretches a premise only because they want to capitalize on its success, they run the risk of diminishing whatever merits the original possessed. In addition, writers that do this tend to be one of two-trick ponies with very little else in their literary arsenal. Thus we wind up with the multi-epic, especially in the Fantasy field, that never seems to end or satisfy. It’s like tantric fiction.
None of my comments are meant to indicate I am opposed to writing sequels, however, because I have and probably will again. The difference is I don’t make the decision to write a sequel lightly. In fact, in most cases I write my novels with the intent of making them a single volume, but sometimes the concept simply outgrows the constraints of the format.
I have what I have termed an “urban dark fantasy epic” whose first novel is already written. I think it’s my best work, and many agree. But I really wanted it to be a single volume work. Unfortunately, it grew and grew to the point where, if I had stuck in all in one book, it would’ve been easily comparable to Stephen King’s “The Stand” in size!
So, I mentioned to my publisher that it would need to be broken up into two volumes. Ignoring the dollar signs in her eyes, I forlornly told her how I felt like I’d failed in my initial idea. Her response was to say, “Do you think you could make it a trilogy?”
I grabbed a hanky and wiped the drool from her mouth, although I think I skidded in some as I walked away, contemplating.
She told me to sit down in front of the computer and think about it. If I came up with anything, I was to let her know but if I didn’t, I had to scrub the toilets and bathe her neighbor’s cat. With the pressure on, I…okay, I’m lying. But something odd happened: a sequel idea came to mind that did not in any way compromise the vision! In fact, it fleshed it out perfectly.
I sat down and wrote out a basic synopsis in about ten minutes and showed it to her. She loved it and so did the other writers and artists in the room. I felt validated by that. In the months since, I have truly fallen in love with the idea.
Trilogies aren’t a big deal to me, though. It’s those obscenely lengthy series I have a problem with. Robert Jordan’s “Wheel of Time” series comes to mind. If not for untimely demise, Jordan would most likely still be writing those books.
Please don’t misunderstand me. There are ideas that require multiple installments. Every follow-up or sequel isn’t akin to the Hollywood approach of placing the same characters into different locales and calling it a continuation. Years ago, long before I had any inkling what I was doing, I came up with an epic of Star Wars proportions that would require a minimum of five books to tell the whole story. I wrote the first one in the back of Sociology classes when I was supposed to be paying attention. It is a huge novel filled with ideas and characters and complex motivations and spaceships and love and politics and…well, you get the idea.
My theory is that most writers of the non-literary elitist variety have at least one multi-epic in their headS doing rapid orbits. That’s not the point of this piece.
Simply put, those who write sequels and series merely for financial gAin have no artistic integrity and should be writing commercials for television. In my view, they contribute negatively to the world of writing and in no way distinguish themselves as good storytellers.
I am no fan of the Harry Potter books. I’ve never read them and I don’t find the concept even slightly interesting. But I must give JK Rowlings credit for one thing if nothing else. She designed an epic tale that required six books to tell it. Perhaps it’s not as complex and creative as Stephen King’s “Dark Tower” series, but Potter novels were justified in their length.
Writing about a character in a series is also a different matter. If, for instance, Robert B Parker wants to write for years about his Boston private eye Spenser, he is following a noble literary tradition. The crusading detective is a character unto himself and is more a plot device for mystery and intrigue than an ongoing story arc.
My forthcoming novel, “Dreamers at Infinity’s Core,” started off as a single volume novel as well. Once I’d finished it, I truly believed it was over. What more was there to be said about those characters or the concept? However, one early morning as I was headed out to work, I realized the story wasn’t over yet. It is now a trilogy, possibly increasingly inaccurately named, but I hope not.
My problem is I love the characters too much to let them go. They’re my children and I refuse to let them grow up. I don’t have much family left and have very little to do with them at this point in my life, so my writing has become family in many ways.
I suspect that may be true for a lot of writers, even those surrounded by family. We’re a lonely bunch by breed and definition and our characters transport us to somewhere more interesting and less difficult to understand.
Life is the series we try to capture. Some of us do it only for money, some do it for love of the craft. All of us should be mindful of the fact that there just might be somebody out there reading out work whose life is much worse and whose only refuge is his or her favorite novel.
That is also our family, and we have a responsibility to them to remain honest to who and what we are. Anything else is simply a TV commercial~
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
GETTING TO KNOW ME, GETTING TO KNOW ALLLLLL ABOUT MEEEEE
Well, okay maybe not. But the following questionnaire is a good time waster until I post my next masterstroke and it does give you a glimpse into the mind of the writer...not this writer but someone...
Five names you go by
1. Chris
2. Nads
3. Muffin
4. Boy-Chris
5. Scribe
Three things you are wearing right now
1. Nothing
2. Much.
(Excited? My dogs are)
Two things you want very badly at the moment
1. More money for bill paying
2. To see my book out before X-mas
Three people who will probably fill this out
I'd like to think all who come before me will follow suit for I am the path and the fork in the road, the armchair philospher who just dumped his load.
Two things you did last night
1. Read a Christopher Moore novel
2. Stared at this
http://www.com-publishing.com/christopherNadeau.shtml for about an hour and wished I'd taken the photo after I got rid of my mustache...oh, well.
Two things you ate today
1. Cereal
2. The inside of my cheek. Hurt like hell but it reminded me I'm alive...like trying to sit through an episode of "Grey's Anatomy."
Two people you last talked to on the phone
1. My absentee friend Al
2. My mortgage guy
Two things you are going to do tomorrow
1. Work.
2. Clean.
(I might even clean while working but they have people for that)
Two longest car rides
1. A trip to Traverse City, MI. for a college journalism competition with a crazy driver (in those days) a know-it-all stoner who liked hassling wanna-be punk rock kids, and a whiney, annoying newbie in the backseat who wouldn't stop complaining about every-damn-thing.
2. The drive back from the Olive Garden where I knew I would be professing my love to a woman who didn't feel the same way.
Two of your favourite beverages
1. Coffee
2. Arizona Ice tea with Ginseng and Honey...orgasm in a glass bottle.
Five names you go by
1. Chris
2. Nads
3. Muffin
4. Boy-Chris
5. Scribe
Three things you are wearing right now
1. Nothing
2. Much.
(Excited? My dogs are)
Two things you want very badly at the moment
1. More money for bill paying
2. To see my book out before X-mas
Three people who will probably fill this out
I'd like to think all who come before me will follow suit for I am the path and the fork in the road, the armchair philospher who just dumped his load.
Two things you did last night
1. Read a Christopher Moore novel
2. Stared at this
http://www.com-publishing.com/christopherNadeau.shtml for about an hour and wished I'd taken the photo after I got rid of my mustache...oh, well.
Two things you ate today
1. Cereal
2. The inside of my cheek. Hurt like hell but it reminded me I'm alive...like trying to sit through an episode of "Grey's Anatomy."
Two people you last talked to on the phone
1. My absentee friend Al
2. My mortgage guy
Two things you are going to do tomorrow
1. Work.
2. Clean.
(I might even clean while working but they have people for that)
Two longest car rides
1. A trip to Traverse City, MI. for a college journalism competition with a crazy driver (in those days) a know-it-all stoner who liked hassling wanna-be punk rock kids, and a whiney, annoying newbie in the backseat who wouldn't stop complaining about every-damn-thing.
2. The drive back from the Olive Garden where I knew I would be professing my love to a woman who didn't feel the same way.
Two of your favourite beverages
1. Coffee
2. Arizona Ice tea with Ginseng and Honey...orgasm in a glass bottle.
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