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.