May 18, 2012

The Bird. No S.

By Scott

He’s out there even now, pecking away as I type this…

…Which kind of means we’re both pecking away, I guess.

I don’t know what’s up this bird’s snout — well, beak — but for two days now, the thing has been attacking my kitchen window. I shot some video this afternoon — have a look for yourself:

When it first showed up yesterday, I thought maybe there were some moths inside the window and it was after them. Then I watched it for awhile: no moths. Then I realized (and please don’t judge me) there are a lot of spider webs between the glass and the screen, and maybe it was after those to use in nest-building, so I cranked the windows open to give it access to the webs (and figuring it would do a little housecleaning for me at the same time).

The bird continued to flutter around and peck at the glass.

I’d say it was attacking its own reflection if the windows weren’t embarrassingly filthy (again, don’t judge me). Whatever the hell it’s doing, it just flutters away, jabbing and pecking at the glass, sometimes landing on the window frame, then flying around again.

So now I’m fairly certain it’s after my eyeball meat.

1 comment | posted in The Creatures, True Life Adventure

May 17, 2012

Space Command.

By Scott

I’ve only backed a couple of Kickstarter projects, but I threw a little dough at Space Command today.

The amount of talent involved with this project is pretty incredible — Marc Scott Zicree, writer of all kinds of cool SF stuff (including episodes of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and Babylon 5), director Neil Johnson, and effects supergod Doug Drexler. They’ve got some cool actors attached, too, like Armin Shimerman and Doug (The Hug) Jones.

What I really like is that they’re not approaching the project as parody — Zicree is a lover of old school SF adventure, and Space Command is going for that in spades, right down to the retro look of the ships.

It’s weird, I was hesitant to pledge to the project at first because I could only afford to kick in a few dollars — five, to be exact — but then I realized that my meager five bucks would put them five bucks closer to making this thing, and I really wanna see it. And y’know what? The amount pledged so far has gone up by about $10,000 since I threw in my fiver. Every little bit helps.

If you want more info, or just wanna pledge a few bucks, visit the Kickstarter page for Space Command.

Watch the video below — these guys wanna make something really cool without the Hollywood suits telling ‘em how it has to be done, and I’m really pulling for them.

Leave a comment | posted in Movies

May 16, 2012

The Ghost and Mr. Pitch-Fail.

By Scott

I was talking to Sarah today and The Ghost and Mr. Chicken came up — you know how it does, I’m sure — and now I’m jonesing (sorry, Brian and Cris) to see it again. I’ve got Sam Peckinpah’s The Ballad of Cable Hogue sitting here from Netflix, but I may have to put it aside for another spin of the Don Knotts classic.

(I’m an unabashed maniac for Don Knotts, if you didn’t already know).

Back in 1999, I did an insane round of pitch meetings in Hollywood off a romantic comedy script I wrote called Kittysitter — that script never sold, but man oh man, did it get me into a lot of rooms. One of them was at Universal Studios (actually several of them were at Universal, at various production companies on the lot), and during one of those meetings, I brought up my idea for a sequel to The Ghost and Mr. Chicken, starring Steve Buscemi as Don Knotts’ son. Buscemi, following in his dad’s footsteps and working (or trying to) as a reporter, investigates a haunted house and crrrrazzy business ensues.

The exec I pitched this to had never heard of The Ghost and Mr. Chicken, and certainly didn’t know it was a Universal movie.

Who wouldn’t wanna see that, though?

Another time, I was at a company that — at the time — owned the rights to Barbarella and were planning to remake it. I mentioned they should cast Simon LeBon as Durand Durand, because — well, you know. The exec totally had no idea what the hell I was talking about.

Then there was my meeting at New Line, when Freddy vs. Jason was still mired in development hell. I was there for something else entirely, but stole the chance to pitch my version, wherein Penn and Teller would play counselors at a summer camp for kids with sleep disorders. A modern-day Abbott and Costello movie, right? The exec was not amused.

I would’ve written any one of those for WGA minimum, too.

Check out the scene below — it’ll give you a pretty good idea of what I’m like on a convention panel:

2 comments | posted in Movies, True Life Adventure, Writing

May 15, 2012

Another Damn Bug Story.

By Scott

You might remember The Terrifying Tale of the Pants-Spider — well, this morning I had another run-in with a bug. This was nowhere near as shriek-inducing, but it was still pretty unpleasant.

A few posts back, I mentioned the moth infestation we’re having. It’s a normal thing, happens every spring, although some years the frantically fluttering bastards are more numerous than others. Every year, however, I go out of my mind from the damn things flappin’ and fwappin’ around my head when I’m trying to read at night, or thudding wildly into the window above my bed. Sometimes I go on a kill-crazy rampage — I’m not proud of it, but a man can only take so much. Last night I took out what I thought was the last moth in the house, but as soon as I threw the wadded-up paper towel containing his body into the trash, another moth flew into my left nostril.

Much more pleasant to look at than bugs.

So this morning, I was enjoying my breakfast — a bowl of oatmeal and a tasty (using the term loosely) protein shake. I make the shakes in a funky shaker cup that has a screw-off lid with a little sifter kind of thingie in it — basically a little cage separating the lid from the container, designed to help mix the protein powder into the liquid. You drink the shake through a small spout with a flip-open cap.

I’m guessing you’re way ahead of me here.

I finished my breakfast, downing the last drops of protein shake. Carrying my dishes into the kitchen, I ran water into the shaker through the little opening, shook it up good to rinse it, then dumped it out.

And a moth flopped out into the sink, his little wings still fwappin’.

Yuck.

Moth-infused protein shake. Breakfast of morons. Now I look inside everything before I eat or drink. EVERYTHING. Even eggs.

Also today: finished off my first draft of the breakdowns for the Logan’s Run comic and delivered that. Much more exciting than drinking a moth!

I leave you with some live (and recent) Iggy and the Stooges.

2 comments | posted in Comics, True Life Adventure, Writing

May 14, 2012

Seven Men From Now (But Really Only Two)

By Scott

A largely uneventful weekend, really. Worked on the new Boone Butters story on Friday, then spent most of Saturday completely wiped out by these damnable allergies (although I got in a fair amount of movie-watching during the suffering). Sunday I threw myself into finishing the breakdowns for the Logan’s Run comic, hoping to get through it before the allergies kicked in hard. Got that done and I’ll deliver it in the morning, once it’s had a little time to percolate. Tomorrow I’ve gotta dive into part 5 of Pete, Drinker of Blood. Got a cool announcement to make about the book, but I’m saving that for now…

My Twitter-pal KJ Waters tagged me in a post on her blog as part of this crazy “Lucky 7″ thing, wherein I’m supposed to post some of my work in progress and tag another seven people. There are rules — something about going to page 77 of your WIP (which, by the way, still means Women In Prison to me, thanks to a lifetime of watching trashy movies), then posting 7 lines or 7 paragraphs, but I haven’t quite hit page 77 of Pete, Drinker of Blood yet, so opted to go to page 14 of Part 1 of Pete, then post the segment below.

I’m not sure I know seven other people who will play along with this, so I’ll just tag the following folks:

Axel Howerton — Contributor to A Career Guide to Your Job in Hell, author of the upcoming novel Hot Sinatra, Canaydjun man-ape, and all-around cool sumbitch.

Bob Vardeman — Co-editor of Career Guide, author of far too many novels to count, and man of mystery.

So here’s my chunk o’ stuff — the opening of chapter 5 of Pete, Drinker of Blood part 1.

As if being a vampire weren’t enough of a cross to bear (so to speak), Pete had to be saddled with insomnia, as well. That was the one thing he’d really hoped would be different after he’d been turned — surely he could look forward to some pleasant slumber in a nice coffin, a pillow of his native earth beneath his snoozing head. He was disappointed to discover that sleeping during the day was even tougher for him than sleeping at night, and that coffin thing just wasn’t gonna happen for him anyway — he’d tried it early on (in what Pete scornfully liked to think of as his vampire apprenticeship), but it reminded him too much of the time when he was 8 and had wriggled his head and upper torso into a large carpet tube, becoming quite stuck. Those were, of course, skinnier days for Pete, but still, he was lodged in that tube for a good hour waiting for his friend Mickey to fetch his dad. They’d had to squirt a bunch of Crisco up into the tube with a basting syringe until Pete was greasy enough to slide back out, and although sworn to silence, the first bell hadn’t even rung at school the next day before Mickey spilled the beans and Pete became known as “The Crisco Kid” for the next several weeks. And don’t ask about gym class.

Pete’s studio (a.k.a. “no bedroom”) apartment was well-guarded from the harmful rays of the sun — pull-down blinds duct-taped to the walls and blankets tacked up over the blinds just in case — but none of that helped with the undeniable knowledge that the goddamn sun was up, and even after all these years, he just couldn’t get it out of his head and settle in. The springs on the twin bed shoved into one corner squeaked annoyingly as the Pete-shaped lump beneath the blankets readjusted itself in hopes of finding a comfortable position. Settling, the lump inflated slightly, then a sigh escaped from within.

Flinging back the blankets, Pete sat up, frowning. He scratched his head, ruffling his meager ‘fro, and grabbed his watch from the bedside table, peering at it in the pale reddish light from the lava lamp bubbling away nearby. 11:23 AM.

Pete tossed the watch down on the bed and stood, rubbing the round wad of belly stuffed into his faded Evel Knievel T-shirt. His flannel jammie pants made a soft scuffing sound as he shuffled to the desk and switched on another lamp. The walls of the tiny apartment were covered with ‘70s-era posters — MOPAR muscle cars, Bruce Lee, and the one-sheet for Jaws among them. Hanging directly over the bed was a stunning black light poster of Mr. Spock.

Pete rested his rump on the edge of the desk, careful to avoid damaging the mostly-complete model kit of a 1971 Plymouth Duster 340. One of the things disturbing his slumber was this situation with Mr. Stovall. The old coot was turning into a proper pain in the ass, that business with the garlic being the most aggravating example yet. Stovall and his wife had moved into the building back around 1986, so it was doubly irritating to Pete — he’d been there first, after all. That had to count for something, right?

Pete wasn’t sure what had tipped the old man off to his vampiric capers — it wasn’t like he’d been dragging victims back to the apartment, and certainly never after 9:00 PM (rules were rules). In fact, he couldn’t even remember the first time Stovall had accused him of being a bloodsucking fiend. Six or seven months ago? And why all of a sudden, after living in the same building for over two decades? Pete wondered if the asswipes at Club Emoglobin got the same sort of treatment from their neighbors.

Shuffling over to the TV, Pete switched it on, finding a rerun of The Match Game. He flopped back in his comfy chair as Charles Nelson Reilly filled in the blank with a particularly bawdy double-entendre. Pete felt reasonably certain that no other vampire anywhere on the planet was engaged in that particular activity at that moment.

Leave a comment | posted in Books, Comics, Writing

May 11, 2012

Welcome to the Grotto.

By Scott

When I’m not writing, I like to roll in the dirt and get my allergies riled up like crazy — not that they need any help, judging from the last week. But yeah, kicking up dust only makes it worse, and I’ve recently been kicking up a fair amount by rebuilding the back patio here at the house.

It’s not quite there yet — I want to add a couple more rows of pavers to widen it some, but I’m pretty happy with the results, considering I don’t have the slightest clue what I’m doing. My ultimate goal is to create a pleasant little Tiki grotto of sorts, wedged into the courtyard between barn and house. I need to come up with some kind of ground-cover plants, preferably something that will bounce back each spring so I won’t have to replant constantly, but that’s something else I have not a clue about.

A huge Tiki god would be great, too, but right now I’m more concerned about having a nice place to sit of an evening.

Writing-wise, today was spent working on the breakdowns for the Logan’s Run comic — at least when I wasn’t miserable and near-unconscious from the allergies (no work on the patio for the last few days, in fact). I think I’m coming up with some good stuff, and I’m very excited to get rolling on the scripts themselves. I’m hoping I might be able to rally before the night is through and get some work done on the new Boone Butters story, The Bombay Beach Boys. Seems unlikely, however.

Been watching a TV series Sarah got me hooked on — one I never would’ve watched on my own, since it looked like slash fiction on the hoof. I’m enjoying it so much that I don’t want to say what it is for fear of spoilers. The mystery shall be revealed once I’m caught up…

Meanwhile — loud rock n’ roll:

Leave a comment | posted in Comics, True Life Adventure, Writing

May 10, 2012

Allergies Assemble!

By Scott

Missed posting yesterday thanks to two things: these freaking outrageous allergies that are hammering me — the worst I’ve suffered in three years, at least — and The Avengers.

The allergies suck. The Avengers is (are? was?) spectacular.

When I was a kid, never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I’d not only see an Avengers movie, but that it would also be the greatest superhero movie ever made. That’s right, I said it.

There were so many things that could’ve gone wrong, especially dealing with the sheer number of characters, but Joss Whedon knocked it clean outta the park. Everyone is fleshed out nicely, even the secondary characters. There’s an insane amount of humor — I laughed out loud a lot, and a couple of times I wasn’t sure I was gonna be able to stop. And the action? Holy cats.

I won’t talk about it any further — no spoilers from this guy — but I will add that while watching the movie, I was actually repeating the phrase This is awesome This is awesome This is awesome over and over again inside my head, to the point where I started to feel a little bit retarded at my own girlish enthusiasm.

Speaking of awesome (Ha! See how I did that?), part 4 of Pete, Drinker of Blood is now available. You can get it for Kindle, Nook or Smashwords. Things are really heating up in this installment, and they’re only gonna get crazier in part 5 (coming in May).

By the way, if you’ve been reading Pete, please do me a huge favor: hit the Amazon page (or pages, even better) and write a short review (or at least click “like” and agree with all the tags). Doesn’t have to be more than a paragraph or two, and you’d truly be amazed by how much a little review can help sales.

1 comment | posted in Movies, Writing

May 8, 2012

Spring and the Fevers.

By Scott

Thanks to whatever the hell is blooming currently, my allergies are out of control. Felt like crap a large part of the day yesterday, and barely slept last night — I think I managed about 4 hours at best. Despite being utterly wiped out, though, work continues in order to bring you part 4 of Pete, Drinker of Blood…

In fact, here’s a sneak peek at the cover of the latest installment:

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna take my mushy brain into the other room and watch some TV until I conk out. I’ll leave you with a little ELO.

1 comment | posted in True Life Adventure, Writing

May 7, 2012

What Happens In Vegas

By Scott

…Is pretty much me eating cake. And not even off someone’s body. In fact, I’d wager (Vegas, baby!) that I’m pretty much the most useless example of the Vegas-visitor you’ll ever find.

The Vegas trip is, of course, the reason I took last week off from the blog. The occasion? Sarah was attending a writers’ conference, and I tagged along. While Sarah spent her days at the conference, I wandered the casino (we stayed at the Golden Nugget) and Fremont Street, although more often than not I merely planted my butt on a chair at Starbucks and worked on Pete, Drinker of Blood part 4.

That’s right, folks — I sat in a casino and wrote. Dedication or lameness? You be the judge.

Izzy stinks at Pinbot. So do I.

It was a heck of a good time, however. My buddy Israel Wright drove up from L.A. for a couple days and we went to the Pinball Hall of Fame, basically a nondescript warehouse building full of amazing pinball machines. I was so overwhelmed I didn’t think to take many pictures, unfortunately.

And as it turned out, a fellow conference attendee was Mike Baron, one of my favorite comics writers (Nexus and The Badger, among other titles). Not only did I get to meet Mike, but Sarah and I had dinner with him a couple nights, just hanging out talking about Kung Fu movies, power pop bands, and all sorts of stuff. Met lots of other cool folks from the conference, too.

At night I’d sneak into Sarah’s notes from the day and learn mysterious and wonderful things.

Then there was the woman at Starbucks who refused to let me write, no matter how deeply I buried my face in my iPad. She was seated a couple tables away, wolfing down a bag of popcorn (this was around 8:30 AM, mind you) and a Frappucino, slinging kernels of corn everywhere like an enraged hamster (at one point, a helpful employee appeared out of nowhere armed with a dustpan and broom to sweep up her mess and disappear once again). She was quite large, this woman, and equipped with freakishly bizarre rolls of fat near her waist.

“I don’t want no drama,” she said, staring intently at me.

I fought down the urge to flee. “Okay,” I said.

“No drama!” She stuffed more popcorn into her mouth, chomping crazily. “My mom said it was about time I had breakfast — this is a good breakfast for me.” Chomp chomp chomp. “I live on junk food, that’s my food.”

I said nothing, hoping to avoid encouraging her. I had vampire action to write, after all.

“I thought about gettin’ married again but NO,” she said.

It went on like this for twenty minutes or so — although it felt much longer than that — until she finally gathered herself and stood up to leave.

That’s when I realized the odd rolls of fat at her waist were actually her breasts, swaying back and forth like two coconuts at either end of a sack that had been slung around her neck.

She rambled on about something else at that point, but I only heard a buzzing sound, like a dial tone in my head. Eventually, she trundled off onto Fremont Street and I fired up the iPad.

I doubt I have to tell you she’s gonna wind up as a character in something somewhere down the line.

I don’t have a picture of her, so here’s one of the puppies from next door:

Look for part 4 of Pete, Drinker of Blood later this week!

1 comment | posted in Conventions, True Life Adventure, Writing

April 27, 2012

The Dreams, They Can Be Odd.

By Scott

All right, I wasn’t gonna tell you guys about this ridiculous dream I had, but I’m desperate for material, so here goes:

The other night, I dreamed that for some bizarre reason, floppy man-boobs had become all the rage for the American male — it was the latest fashion trend, celebrated from the runways of New York to the movie studios of Hollywood, and I wasn’t having any of it: No man-boobs for me! I finally woke up during a TV commercial for a product called “8 Weeks to Swingin’ Man-Boobs.”

I couldn’t even begin to guess what was up with that nonsense.

What follows is, sadly, not a dream, but reality: I did a little more puppy-sitting today, and it was quite the three-ring circus of doggy bodily functions (if you’re eating, stop reading now). When I went next door to let the puppies outside, I found that one of them had vomited all over the other one — but there was so much puppy ralph, I couldn’t tell which dawg was the puker, and which the pukee. On top of that, they were both doing their best to — yuck! — consume the puke, so I was more or less juggling two vomit-covered puppies who were scrambling to lick each other. After much sloppiness, I managed to get them both cleaned up and out of the house, where one of them continued to throw up. Every time that happened, the other puppy came a’ runnin’ like the dinner bell had been rung, so I’d fight her off and kick dirt over the puke. After letting the beasts scamper around the yard for awhile, I brought them into my house, where more vomiting occurred. Finally, the pups fell asleep.

Oh, but there’s more: when the pups woke up, I was pleased to see that the wave of vomiting had passed. I took them outside again, in hopes that they’d relieve themselves. Meanwhile, Einstein (the big dawg in the yard) wandered over and began — you know, peeing. And of course, one of the puppies chose that moment to walk under Einstein.

And so I found myself carrying a urine-dripping puppy into my house, to the bathtub, where I gave her a bath with lots of shampoo. Afterwards, I mopped up the drips leading from the front door to the bathroom and put the puppies back in their house. But look how cute!

(Note: no vomit and/or urine in the following video — only cuteness).

In less messy news, work continues apace — wow, I’ve always wanted to say that, and now I have — on part 4 of Pete, Drinker of Blood. As I’ve mentioned before, this fourth installment marks the halfway point of my little serial novel, and this is a good time to pick up the first three parts, if you likes yourself some urban fantasy and vampire action. Especially if you likes yourself a fair amount of humor in your urban fantasy and vampire action.

Also making notes on the breakdowns for that Logan’s Run comic I’ll be writing. Man oh man, I can’t wait to cut loose on those scripts.

I’ll be taking next week off from the blogging (but not from the writing), so things will be quiet around here until Monday, May 7. With any luck I’ll have seen The Avengers by then (and if you see it before me, no spoilers!).

2 comments | posted in Misery and Imagination, The Creatures, Writing