Special Christmas Treat!

Those of you who actually follow anything I do on here and are actually interested in the things I write probably know that I am currently working on my first novel, entitled In Name Only.  Since it is the Christmas season, I decided that I would bestow upon you a gift: a short excerpt from the second draft!  This novel follows the life of Spencer Alton, a man raised in the Church, as he deals with a dangerously overwhelming revenge complex.  This is an excerpt from the first chapter, where we meet Spencer as he mourns a lost love.  

Please enjoy, and merry Christmas!

Chapter 1 Excerpt

The air in here is like being wrapped in blankets, it’s so warm. Outside the snow is starting to really come down. I brush it off of my shoulders and take a seat at the end of a pew about halfway down the aisle. Everything here is dark wood grains and stained glass. Beams cross overhead more elegantly than any of the churches I’ve ever attended in my life. It feels like it should be revered. Tonight, St. Josephine’s is mostly empty, which is how I want it. The candles are lit at the altar, and gentle flame-light licks at the massive crucifix. For a moment, I stare at the polished face of the Christ. Then the moment we had is past.

Sometimes it’s nice to be in a place that is not afraid to let itself look like a church. That’s why I come here every Tuesday evening. I also come because nobody here knows who I am, so therefore nobody here hates me.

I don’t even bother to shed my coat or my scarf. I just take my iPod out of my pocket and turn it on. The little screen casts out an eerie technological glow that seems almost irreverent. A priest wanders over from his confession booth and smiles at me.

“Do you need to make confession, son?” He asks me like he always does, eyeing the iPod in my hand without any resentment. His face is old and worn and reminds me of a pair of boots that my grandfather used to wear. At the corner of his eyes, his skin cracks with his smile. Even though he has perfect teeth and dignified grey hair, I think he’s gotten into the real dirt of life a few times. I think he’s seen some things and done some good, and that brings a smile to my face every time I see him. I often imagine him in some far off place, a jungle or a desert, spooning out soup to children and praying with dying tribal chiefs. He’s the kind of person you feel could change your life, if you’d let him.

I think about his question, like I always do. But, like always, I’m not Catholic. I never have been. I wouldn’t even know how to go about making a confession to a priest.

“Probably I do,” I say. “But not tonight, Father Raymond.” He places his steady old hand on my shoulder and squeezes it. For a moment, I touch his wrist and feel the warmth of another human being for the first time in months. Then he moves on and I’m alone in this massive, warm place of worship. I run my thumb over the wheel of my iPod.

Tok, tok, tok. I twirl it until I find what I am looking for. When I find the playlist and I see her name, I have to pause because I’m not so sure I can handle it. I’m never sure when I get to this point. This is what I’ve done every week since, and it hasn’t gotten any easier. I still can’t even bring myself to take the ring off of my finger, even though it gets heavier every day. I put my earbuds into my ears.

I know this playlist by heart. Every song and every lyric is ingrained into my mind with the images of her. Pictures of her with that freckled nose and those green eyes and that sharp tongue. Pictures of her with Caleb. I can never think very hard about Caleb, because then it starts to really ache in the pit of my stomach.

This playlist was the soundtrack that played in my mind when I was with her. Every song is some different time or emotion or look she gave me, and every song hurts like hell now. I toggle through the songs. Some of them I don’t want to listen to right now. They aren’t for tonight. I don’t think I’d be able to walk out of here, or even pick myself up out of this pew, if I tried to make it through Cocaine Lights by Phosphorescent on a night like this. Tonight has been worse than most. I twirl past songs by Death Cab (I Will Posses Your Heart) and Godspeed You! (Dead Flag Blues) and Minus the Bear (Pachuca Sunrise) until I find the one that I need to hear this exact second. I lean my head back and let it crack, and I stare into the dark wooden rafters and the interplay of shadows they throw on the ceiling.

My muscles relax and I sink into the comfort of this place. This feels like it’s name. It is very much a sanctuary. Outside, ice coats everything and frigid wind rattles windows and burns your face, but in here everything is warmth and dimly lit comfort.

That's all you get for now!  Thanks for reading!

Dave

Scenes, part 5

I love seeing the emotional ties that people have to music.  I love seeing how music helps us express joy and sorrow and grief and hatred.  This is a scene from Black Snake Moan that does just that.  There's really nothing much else I can say about it, besides that it gives me chills every time I watch it.  

On a side note, it is a real shame that some people miss out on certain movies because they don't agree with some of the things the characters do.  I understand not letting your children see this move because of the sex, drugs, violence, and language.  But it is a shame that as an adult, people can't see those things as realistic depictions of characters and plots, and often skip over beautiful, moving films because of it.  I only mention this here because I know people who have turned this movie off because some of the characters say "fuck" a lot, and Christina Ricci's character has a sexual compulsion triggered by memories of childhood abuse.  I sometimes wonder if people would react the same way seeing these people in real life... Would we shut them out then too?  Just something I was thinking about.  Enjoy this scene, and sorry about the subtitles.

Scenes, part 4

American Psycho is a controversial movie for me to have as one of my favorites.  A lot of people don't understand the movie, and therefore only see the terrible things portrayed on screen and refuse to dig deeper.  This movie is only about a psychotic (maybe) killer on the surface.  In reality, the original novel by Ellis is more about the place that rampant materialism is heading.  Imagine a world where things, rather than ideas or knowledge or love, have become what we desire most.  A world where we objectify everything, even people, and only work to feed our own pleasures.  Patrick Bateman is already there, and it's terrifying.  In his mind, everything in his life is put there for his pleasure.  Money, technology, women.  All cater to his needs and he uses them and tosses them aside without a thought.  In this particular scene, all of that comes to a head.  Here we see him slaughter a drunken friend for no real reason other than dislike of having to deal with him on a regular basis.  All the while, Huey Lewis plays on in the background.  Pay attention to things in the scene that tell us this isn't so much a slasher flick as it is a tale of American consumerism and materialism gone berserk.  The raincoat, the newspaper, the newest technology, the things Bateman says.  Such a masterpiece.

Writing update: How I Terrified Myself

The other night I decided that if I was going to avoid my infamous writer's block on my novel, I needed to sit down and work out the plot in some simple format.  I decided to give a VERY basic summary of what I wanted each chapter to include.  I'm going about this in such a way that I consider each chapter to be somewhat of a short story in and of itself.  It helps focus.  Problem is, once I had told myself the entire story I now have 100 chapters of a few pages each.  We are looking at at least a 300 page novel here.  Which is both great and terrifying.  Here's to hoping I make it!

Coming Attractions

I don't often look forward to comedies, but this looks absolutely amazing:

My excitement for the evening...

So I stumbled upon this video of the screenwriters for the movie adaptation of Blue Like Jazz reading through a scene. I have to say that if this movie goes through the way it seems to be written, it may possibly be the best movie I will have ever seen. Here's a link to the video:

http://vimeo.com/2199842

Scenes, part 3

A bit more campy than my last choices, here's Tina's death scene from the Wes Craven classic A Nightmare on Elm Street.  The traditional effects and camera tricks in this scene are astounding, and the death is effectively creepy.  This scene was my favorite from the original movie just because of how intense and realistic the death is.  When the clawmarks appear on her stomach, I was just aghast.  Great horror stuff.

Scenes, Part 2

Alrighty, from The Birds to the other movie that shaped my love for horror into what it is:  Stephen Spielberg's Jaws.  This is the haunting scene in which Quint recounts the horrors that befell the crew of the sunk USS Indianapolis as they were attacked by sharks.  For me, this was the scene that gave me the most chills from the entire movie.  The sea fascinates and terrifies me.  Being on a boat at night on the ocean with a great white shark swimming around somewhere below just makes my skin crawl.  The buildup in this scene is absolutely incredible from the standpoint of a writer, and it's shot beautifully.  Very intimate and quiet, with the gentle rocking of the boat in the background.  The dialogue is natural and proceeds from awkward conversation, to joking and drinking, to Quint's monologue quite smoothly and effectively.  Finally, we hear the whales and the crew begins singing.  It's a picture perfect image of the seafaring life.  Then the barrel pops up on the surface, bringing home the terror of the Indianapolis story, and it gives me goosebumps every time.  So very good.

Scenes, Part 1

I'm trying out a new thing here, where I'll be posting scenes from movies both new and old that affected me in some way and that I feel are worth watching.  So, here goes.

First up is the infamous telephone booth scene from Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds.  I've always thought that this scene is done perfectly.  Hitchcock has a way of putting you in the shoes of the characters.  Notice how when things happen in this scene, they are almost always shown from the vantage point of the characters.  For example, the man being attacked by the gulls and the man lighting his cigar.  Both events are seen from the point of view of the characters in the diner and make you react in almost the same way they must be reacting.  The way the camera flashes back and forth between the panicked expression on Melanie's face and the flaming trail of gasoline has this odd almost strobe light effect to it that I like.  The descent of the gulls is pure genius, and their squawking is unnerving, which is aided by the complete lack of dramatic music in the scene.  Now, once Melanie is inside the phone booth, I find Hitchcock really turns the character's POV effect up a notch.  When I watch this scene, I really feel like I'm in there with her, in this upright glass coffin surrounded by attacking gulls.  It's claustrophobic and panic-inducing.  The sound effects are great in this sequence, especially the muffled sounds of the chaos outside that gets louder every time she opens the door, and the POP of the gulls killing themselves by smashing into the glass just to get at her.  What I found interesting about this movie, is that often the characters don't react the same way they do in modern horror movies.  When she's in the phone booth, Melanie doesn't scream like the vapid twenty-somethings in today's horror flicks do.  She just has this panicky hyperventilating expression that gets crazier and crazier the longer she's in there.  For some reason that seems more realistic.  So yeah, enjoy this scene from The Birds.  Definitely a movie worth watching if you haven't yet.  Other notable scenes that I loved are the playground scene, where crows slowly gather on a jungle gym, and the corpse scene with it's shocking plucked eyeballs and great horrified acting by the lady playing Mitch's mom.

New song for people who know...

Dawn's *

It’s almost midnight
And the condiment trim
Calls my name
To a place where
For two whole summers
I nightly came

It's a place
Where the chairs
Ne'er are comfy
And the cushions
Are all torn in shame
Where everyone's smoking
And for secondhand
There’s finally no one 

To blame
And there’s not a spot
On the tile not

Already stained
But it’s here
Right here
That we can stay in all night
Joking off our families
And searching everywhere
For a light
And I know it’s the same.
Same. Same.
Sad place that we were
Last night
But it’s only here
Right here
That everything
Really seems alright...
Now it’s Wednesday night
Two AM and we’re still
Playin’ our games
Bonfires in the ashtrays
They never get lame
And everyone's coming in now
In out of the ice
And the snow
And everyone 

Is conversing
The young
And the fat
And the old
Because it’s here,
Right here
That everyone seems
The same
The fools and the lovers
The poets and musicians

Of mere high school fame

And we say with a frown

"This is the best place in town!"
It's here
Right here
But we don’t even know
It’s right name

*Great Lakes Myth Society was on my brain while I wrote this song.

The Day the Earth Stood Still Review (reposted)

Now normally I would just write this myself.  But after I read this review, I believe that I can't say it any better than this:

From HorrorFanatics.com:

I'm putting out an open message to all readers: If at any point you ever
know a way in which I can openly sit in a screening room with Tom Rothman
or generally any executive at 20th Century Fox, please let me know. I will give
money, sperm, the life of my first born...anything just to sit there as the
credits roll up after a balmy 90 minutes of watching, whatever mess they
have and ask, 'why'? Or better yet 'how'? How could they release a film this
bad? This is fucking with a classic and this isn't a questionable classic. This is
a film that in 1951 really opened the doors for science fiction films to have
meaning beyond fantasy ideas of starships and ray guns. Today we have
"The Day the Earth Stood Still", a 104 minute (slightly longer than most
Rothman fair) film that starts us off fast and finishes with a big, confusing,
cheesy, stupid, meaningless and all around lousy ass finale.

In case you don't know the 1951 classic was a parable about the horrors of
nuclear war and that it would be man that would destroy this planet. So
rather than have us screw it up, the alien Klaatu is sent to either: A) Look
over our doings and see if we are capable of changing. Or B) Destroy all
humans and save planet earth. That's basically the plot of this one sans
nukes. Now it just generally seems to be us. It's hinted at our way of life
that's killing the planet, but the film lacks any real attempts to get political. I
guess it thought since Jennifer Connelly is mothering a black child in Jaden
Smith that it was 'edgy' enough. Keanu Reeves plays the alien Klaatu. It's
not really him acting as much as it is him talking from time to time and
walking briskly as if he's headed to the rest room, or to the bank to cash his
awesome money check he just got.

Connelly is slightly more into it, but she's just that kind of actress. If she was
in 'Pootie Tang' she would have acted the shit out of it no matter how many
terrible lines they gave her. Which would have rivaled however many they
gave her in this. And then there's some great supporting work of 'Mad Men'
star John Hamm, who's role is almost completely unnecessary. There's also
Robert Knepper as The Colonel trying to destroy the giant orbes as well as
Klaatu's protecter known as GORT (more on him later). And finally Kathy
Bates as a general "Hilary-Palin" hybrid secretary of defense while the
president and vice president remain hidden and silent while this global event
takes place. All of these skilled performers had better things to do than this
pile of crap. And guess what the biggest pile of crap was? Our man GORT.
GORT in the original is the robot that occupied Klaatu.

He was slightly taller than most men and had a laser firing out of his viser to
protect his master. Now we are introduced to the new GORT. A giant orgy
love child between Cyclopse, the Silver Surfer and the Jolly Green Giant. And
who's CGI is actually so, so, SO poor that it's the equivlent of placing a
sticker over a bad drawing you made and parading it around like it's great. I
mean there is some horrible, horrible effects in this film and YES it is all the
things NOT shown on the trailers. Those were the only impressive scenes.
The ones of destruction and what not, but beyond that they all resemble a
cut scene from a PS2 game. Director Scott Derrickson ('The Exorcism of
Emily Rose') manages to squeeze out about four or five good to reasonable
scenes in this whole mess. Mostly due to good angles. However, almost
everything in here is inter-cut with poorly rendered CGI.

In fact I'm sure that next year Fox will be using simple polygon's for effects.
The more talky scenes there are, the better, but nothing said is all that earth
shattering or dramatic or even that interesting. The worst thing is in the end
we still should die. It doesn't matter about the other side of humans. We will
never stop what makes our lives easier or more comfortable. It's not gonna
happen. But we all knew how this ended from square one...I don't need to
say it. So, "The Day the Earth Stood Still" will be playing near you in a couple
of days. And I urge anyone even considering at this point to see it...don't. If
you want to hold out hope on something good, just re-watch the trailer. And
keep watching it until you're finally happy, but for the love of God do not
spend money on seeing this. It's terrible. Not good for a laugh, or in need of
being seen on the big screen, because it's really not. It's a mild sized, wanna
be sci-fi disaster movie. One with no point, power or punch.

A Holiday Message From CECI!

Dial-​the-​Truth​ Minis​tries​ state​s in an artic​le by Terry​ Watki​ns:​

"You ever notic​ed how easy it is to trans​form "​Satan​"​ from "​Santa​"​?​ Just move the "n" to the end."

Conti​nuing​ in this vein,​ the autho​r quote​s Psalm​ 99:3 in suppo​rt for the suppo​sitio​n that:​

"Our Engli​sh words​ "​saint​,​ sanct​ify,​ et al" comes​ from "​santa​"​.  Sound​s like Satan​'​s "I will be like the most High"​ plan is at it again​.​"

Reall​y?​ (​surpr​ise)​ Reall​y?​ (​utter​ confu​sion)​ Reall​y?​ (​aghas​t)​

Mr. Watki​ns,​ I submi​t to you that the actua​l plan that Santa​-​ er, I mean SATAN​ has set in motio​n is the "Get Mr. Watki​ns to watch​ way too much TBN at 3am" plan.​ It's a prett​y nefar​ious schem​e indee​d.​

Santa​ is not evil.​ I know that if you rearr​ange the lette​rs in the word SANTA​,​ you do get SATAN.​ But I also under​stand​ that the word SANTA​ is latin​ for saint​.​ Which​ you seem to understand​ in some way.

Let me say that again​,​ just to make sure it came acros​s loud and clear​,​ and that you are really under​stand​ing what it is you state​d in your artic​le and what I'm resta​ting here:​

SANTA​ is LATIN​ for the word SAINT​!​ Get it. Got it? Good.​

Now pleas​e stop wavin​g your ignor​ance flag aroun​d and go watch​ Jan Crouc​h or somet​hing.​ Yeesh​.​

This has been a message from the Coalition to End Christian Ignorance.

Happy Holidays! 

(Yeah, I went there.  Me with my X-masy ways and my Satan Clause beard.)

Quite possibly the best thing.....evvveeeerrrr

Death From Above 1979

Jes' real quick like...

I know it's been a teensy hiatus since my last post, but work and catching up on sleep will simmer down soon and I'll be able to sit down and write and write on this about writing and music and all sorts of goodies. For now, please enjoy this music video done by the incredible Portugal, the Man for their music video "Lay Me Back Down".

 

 

Those same lyrics from that last post have been resonating with me as I spun La Dispute's new disc, and I believe that this song exemplifies how I feel about each and every one of my friends.  Especially a couple that I am very close to.  Therefore, this song is recommended and "dedicated" to them, at least in my mind.

The Castle Builders

Now speak of anger,
Forget all the fears you've kept about love and sex and death and faith,
Erased, or swinging sweet from around her neck and between her breasts.
Let every lonely body finally break it's fear of flesh and say,
"How strange it must've been back when we shook at the sight of sweat."
Let our worries wander out of like water streaming from a spring,
And sing of all the things our heads have failed to ruin yet.
There's so much they have failed to ruin yet.
Bright as lightning, loud as thunder,
We'll move all the hurt aside to let love sustain our passions,
And move up and onward.
We are not our losses, we are only the extent to which we love.
So build a home for your family, and build a castle for your friends.
Now set their beds with sheets and blankets, keep them safe until the end.
I've felt the damage and burn from the fallout.
My love failed but theirs prevailed.
My friends, I'm only flesh and bone,
But I won't let you die alone.
So leave our hearts at the foot of the mountain.
Let our burdens be locked in the stone.
If you will help me roll it upward,
I won't let you die alone.
I see a beauty springing upward from the earth and from out our hearts.
For all the bad that seems to plague us, I swear to you there's good.
They say that death is not a problem, it's a promise,
I can only say for sure that when it makes your bed I'll kiss your head "Goodnight."
So speak of all the love we lost, and what it cost us,
Left us beg our breath to stop but we kept on and
We were strong. We stayed bright as lightning,
We sang loud as thunder, we moved ever forward.
We are not our failures. We are love.

An anecdote about lyrics and beards...

First off, let me say that my beard has special powers. Tonight I got into a concert for free because it was assumed by the girls at the door that I was a parent (it was a show primarily composed of high schoolers). And my mother wants me to shave this thing? If I had no beard, I might have been let into the show for free, but only because I would have been mistaken for celebrity comedian and television star Drew Carrey.  

Secondly, these are my favorite lyrics of the moment.  I don't know what their original intent was, but I like to apply them to how I should live out my faith.  Here they be:

We were strong.  We stayed bright as lighting, we sang loud as thunder, we moved ever forward.  We are not our failures.  We are love.

Ralph Stanley: Masterful A Capella

O, Death
O, Death
Won't you spare me over til another year
Well what is this that I can't see
With ice cold hands takin' hold of me
Well I am death, none can excel
I'll open the door to heaven or hell
Whoa, death someone would pray
Could you wait to call me another day
The children prayed, the preacher preached
Time and mercy is out of your reach
I'll fix your feet til you cant walk
I'll lock your jaw til you cant talk
I'll close your eyes so you can't see
This very air, come and go with me
I'm death I come to take the soul
Leave the body and leave it cold
To draw up the flesh off of the frame
Dirt and worm both have a claim
O, Death
O, Death
Won't you spare me over til another year
My mother came to my bed
Placed a cold towel upon my head
My head is warm my feet are cold
Death is a-movin upon my soul
Oh, death how you're treatin' me
You've close my eyes so I can't see
Well you're hurtin' my body
You make me cold
You run my life right outta my soul
Oh death please consider my age
Please don't take me at this stage
My wealth is all at your command
If you will move your icy hand
Oh the young, the rich or poor
Hunger like me you know
No wealth, no ruin, no silver no gold
Nothing satisfies me but your soul
O, death
O, death
Wont you spare me over til another year
Wont you spare me over til another year
Wont you spare me over til another year

My Philosophy...

I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound and stab us. If the book we are reading doesn’t wake us up with a blow on the head, what are we reading it for? We need the books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea inside us.

-Franz Kafka

Let the Right One In

Recently, I was perusing the new issue of Fangoria magazine, and I stumbles across their pick for the number one horror movie of 2008. This movie, to me, seems fascinating. I've been a long time horror fan, and usually I enjoy slasher or monstrous creature films. Vampire movies are either really amazing (Bram Stoker's Dracula) or really, really god-awful (Twilight). This movie has been winning over critics at film festivals and holding it's own against more "respectable" genres. Hopefully it falls in line with the really amazing movies rather than the god-awful ones. Here's the trailer for Let the Right One In.