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Fresh Dirt--Scott Nicholson's
journal
May 9 Joel also sent me back some of my own advice: "Just write the next sentence." Sometimes when I get too caught up in where I "ought to be" in my career or craft, or how many projects I need to roll out and complete, I forget that simple bit of wisdom. Sometimes that's all there is. The next rep, the next word, the next sentence, delivered as skillfully and thoughtfully as possible. May 7 Consider this parable of the roadkill: Your beloved pet cat is run over by a car. You don't find out until you see the picked-over corpse hours later. You implore God and curse God's indifference and cruelty and unfairness. Yet the raven and the buzzard who fed from the corpse received it as proof of God's benevolence and generosity. The table of contents for the anthology Unspeakable Horror: From the Shadows of the Closet is being slowly undressed at editor Vince Liaguno's blog. My story "The Shaping" is among the many fine works to come. May 3 Old/new story "Letters and Lies" is up in the free fic section and I'll soon be adding a short audio version of a story. Also posted is the somewhat snarky article "Writing for Hollywood." Apr. 28 The Skull Ring arose from my interest in wacky psychotherapists. I've always viewed the headshrinker field with a heavy dose of suspicion, because there's a certain smugness in believing you deserve the keys to someone else's head. My research into false recovered memory syndrome, where shrinks basically planted destructive ideas in their patients' heads to glorify themselves (in much the same way that multiple personality disorder became a popular diagnosis). The issue coincided with "Satanic Panic," the notion that there were hundreds of underground Satanic cults offering up tens of thousands of human sacrifices, which made great copy except for the fact that there was never a shred of evidence, not a single bone, not a confirmed missing-persons case linked to a Satanic cult. Of course, the Devil's greatest trick is getting people to believe he doesn't exist. Anyway, meet Julia Stone and her shrink Pamela Forrest. Throw in some smoke and mirrors, a bloody dagger, and let the games begin... Apr. 15 I finished the first issue and a good bit of the concordance for the new comic series--now I need to sketch a map and outline a few more issues before the puppy can go to market. I'm also exploring an interesting web-based project, which will entail drawing more people to the Web site and engaging a community of writers and artists. Essentially I want to tackle a communal writing project and develop it as a "how-to-write" lesson as we go, based on one or more of my properties. So if you're creative, stick around, because I want to share what I've learned and also generate some interest in new projects. Apr. 6 Also, Barton Carroll's new CD "The Lost One" will have you singing the songs in your head days after exposure. I had a good conversation with him for an article, and in some ways our paths are similar, though I left the music "business" long ago. He's a plumber who keeps putting his songs on paper and his recordings in the can, balancing desire for "stardom" with the peace of leading a relatively simple life. The tao of the starving artist, no doubt. Been busy in the garden, working up horse poop and dirt, sowing seeds of green dreams. But also been busy on the new comic project, which is so interesting and odd that it might be my first true "serial" idea, one that will keep me engaged enough to want to stick with the characters for years instead of months or days. I can easily see the journeys continuing in many different directions. On other fronts, I have an audio-visual work coming at Wrong World (I'm still not quite sure what form their product takes) and I'm also recording an audio version of my story "Must See To Appreciate" for Third Alternative Press. Interesting to note how much of my work is moving into multimedia forms. If only I could draw worth a lick, I'd really have it made. Or at least enjoy myself more as my belly grumbled. Life is rich and full. Mar. 23 Consulting
my old 15-pound dictionary that I salvaged from a dead
lunatic's house (funny story, I knew it was meant to be
mine because it had a license plate stuffed in the
binding gap--yeah, it's that thick--and the plate was
1962 North Carolina, the year and state of my birth).
Anyway, "weird" in this edition primarily means
"fate, destiny," and also is used in connection
with witchcraft or the supernatural. Only in a weakened
adjective form does it occasionally mean
"strange," which is how we use it most often
these days. In fact, it's become my daughter's favorite
word for anything she either doesn't understand or wants
more time to assimilate. I've started the new comic project and just received a couple of more sample pages of art for "The Gorge," so all that is off with the agent to see what will happen. Now that I am simultaneously working on four major projects, it seems they are moving slowly, but weirdly enough in each I have had a major breakthrough in the storyline, partly through the act of not writing. When I'm swimming laps seems to be my best time for breakthroughs, and of course the garden is also a wonderful escape, except there my mind usually wanders so far afield that words and Planet Earth are barely in the frame. The pasture next door has three new calves and today I am incredibly grateful to have cute little neighbors that haven't yet learned to bawl. Thanks to all who contributed ideas for my "Carmilla" introduction. It's finished and turned in, and naturally I'll share release details when they come available. I've been busy planning the paranormal conference at the Green Park Inn for mid-November, and all that remains are a few minor details such as giving it a name and taking people's money. You know you'll want to attend. Mar. 14 I've been commissioned to write an introduction to a special collector's edition of "Carmilla" for Full Moon Press and part of my angle is why vampires appeal to so many people, especially in why they are considered seductive. "Carmilla," published in 1851 by J.S. Le Fanu, has decidedly erotic lesbian overtones and is generally considered the inspiration for Bram Stoker's Dracula. While the narrative style is a bit outdated, the sensuality rivals anything that goes on today (note: sensuality is a far different thing than sexuality, and if you don't understand this, maybe you should wonder why your partner so often says "Not tonight, I have a headache.") Really, I can't figure out why bloodsucking sociopathic creatures are warmly invited into people's homes and beds. I was most visibly stricken by this notion when I did the over-the-top, under-the-lid photoshop publicity photo for They Hunger and had people emailing me (and not just women) saying, "Gosh, Scott, you look so Effing HOT!!!!!!" I never knew hollowed cheeks, sunken eyes, pointy teeth, and pale skin would have done the trick, or else I wouldn't have wasted my high school years trying to earn affection through poetry, chess, and baseball. So let me know--Vampires: Are they cool, are they hot, are they dead? I may use your comments in the book but there is no pay and probably no credit except my eternally undying gratitude. And a promise that I won't drain you completely. Mar. 6 My agency's Web site is now live at Objective Entertainment. I don't know a lot about the company but it seems like they have a varied roster and are beefing up the television stuff. My rationale for moving there with my agent (my third move with him) was that the company is taking a multimedia approach, and since I'm a multimedia kind of guy, maybe we could grow up together. Sometimes it seems like I've already been doing this far too long, but in other ways I'm just now figuring out the craft. I don't even want to go back and undo the mistakes, because they don't matter today. What really matters is fighting the good fight, tapping into the flow, and doing meaningful work. It's a Taoist's life--poetry, poverty, and once in a while, passion. In the meantime, I still wear the pointy crown of "Bad Dad." Feb. 28 Opened my heirloom seed order yesterday--green dreams await. I'm not sure if I'm falling into early post-apocalypse survival mode or prefuturist Greater Depression mode. Or maybe it's just about the seeds. They
Hunger is the featured "free read" at www.dearreader.com this week. Go to the site
and you can sign up for books in a variety of genres.
You'll get excerpts of the first chapter or two over the
course of a week and it gives you a chance to "try
before you buy." Don't settle for mindlessly and
blithely grabbing the latest bestsellers from authors who
are punching the clock and giving you uninspired
material. Challenge yourself to try something new--you
might be surprised and you'll definitely be smarter,
happier, and sexier. (Incidentally, I have signed book club editions available for $12, includes
shipping) Feb. 23 I've been doing a hot/cold cycle with a sauna followed by a dip in cold water and it's been a great cleansing experience. It really increases the circulation and helps keep bugaboos at bay. I'm also hoping to wrap up plans for the Green Park Inn paranormal conference for later this year so stayed tuned for news on that. Otherwise, not much new in my external world, but I'm doing my work and sticking with it and still getting lots of feedback from you on "They Hunger" I'm pleased that it still seems to be getting around a year after its release. Feb. 12 In the real world, I am getting incredibly excited about my garden even though it's still two months to go before even the hardy stuff will sprout. I put in a serious heirloom seed order and my goal this year is to move toward saving most of my own seeds with the idea of sharing them in the years ahead. And hopefully I'll get some fruit this year after an Easter freeze last year killed all the blossoms. My big joy at the moment is my several-ton pile of nitrogen-rich compost, gobbed with horse manure (and I know what you're thinking, but I didn't throw I bunch of my crappy books in the heap). I can hardly wait to play in it. Still working on plans for a paranormal conference at the Green Park Inn for November and I'm also exploring a writing retreat here in the mountains. I still haven't decided on the scope, but I may try a small one in the summer and a larger one for fall. Well, I'm starting to bore myself talking about me me me. I'll be putting up some new articles soon, including one on screenwriting. My advice is always worth what you pay for it. Feb. 1 The rights to "The Red Church" have also reverted back to me, so hopefully you'll see a limited edition and maybe a trade paperback or other edition available soon. I am at the point where I don't want to leave anything lying around unfinished, so I probably won't start anything new for a couple of months--though I have two firm ideas that will get started sometime this year. Both are unlike "typical Scott," in case you're wondering! I don't know if the typical Scott will ever exist again, but I hope you stay along for the ride. Should be interesting. Dr. Mann invites you to peruse a celebration of Valentine's Month at aawmag.org. Unfortunately it was edited by females to remove the more salacious truths, but there you go. Jan. 26 Girl turned 8 today, the infinity number. Somehow this one feels like a real turning point, though she swears she still feels exactly 7. Her face even looks a little different, more full. I've never been one to selfishly pray, "Please don't grow up!" All I believe is "Grow up at the right pace." Today we are illustrating one of the books. Growing up together, growing down together. Love. Jan. 19 I also got to revisit an older book project I was working on and realized how much fun I was having--I had originally stalled on it because I thought it wasn't the kind of "commerciallly hip chick lit hot stuff" that is so popular right now. And I realized I don't have a great need to be popular. I don't mind if the work is popular or unpopular, because it speaks for itself. And my ego doesn't need a whole lot of validation on that. Would be nice, but the satisfaction of knowing I got it right is often as good as it gets. I try to tell this to other writers, mostly newer ones who see this insurmountable wall into the publishing industry, and the idea is met with resistance. I truly believe if you open your heart and mind and shut off the noise, you'll get to the real stuff that is your success. And the rest will follow organically. I know it's true because I see it repeatedly in my own life. I'm about to send out the latest Scottsnews newsletter so if you haven't already, sign up at scottnews-subscribe@yahoogroups.com or fill in blank below. I'll be doing a giveaway later in conjunction with the new project. Plus, if you sign up for the inner circle, you'll get more exclusive details about the book plus a sneak peek at art sketches for the "They Hunger/The Gorge" graphic novel project. Jan. 11 The
Sound is a typical teen tale designed to get young ladies
into bathing suits and put them in grave peril. And young
men, too, but nobody cares if they get killed. This is
loosely based on a story ("She Climbs A Winding
Stair") I wrote about an abandoned town in the North
Carolina Outer Banks. It's on an island and all the
buildings and houses are still there--the people just
gave it up be My friend James Lowder has released the new anthology he edited called Astounding Hero Tales, harkening back to the days of the pulp magazine adventure tales. I also got sample art for the creatures in the They Hunger comic--I don't want to post it yet, but it even creeps me out, and I've seen everything (except, of course, Paris Hilton doing something benevolent and wise). Jan. 8 I sold a book for a limited edition with a new company and I'll provide complete details as soon as everything is signed (including the all-important "Buy it now and improve your life and get more friends and have fresher breath!" link). It was written a few years ago and is one of those non-horror horror books people seem to like these days. It was an interesting experiment for me, because there are no ghosts or goonies on-stage, though the background setting has the Pointy-Eared Dude In Red. If you believe that sort of thing. My primary interest was the psychological elements and what happens when someone puts too much trust for their thoughts and interpretations in a person who doesn't exactly have their best interests at heart--say, maybe a manipulative lunatic who wants your soul for the Devil? Yes, of course, I am a big fan of psychologists and psychiatrists, which you know if you read The Home. What, you didn't read The Home, because it went out of print so fast the ink wasn't even dry yet? Well, I didn't read it either. Anybody who writes that kind of stuff must be crazy. I need a shrink. Jan. 1 Here I could run down all the "top 10" blah blah blahs of 2007 but I think I like the way the year ended and there were remarkable discoveries along the way, lots of opportunity for growth, lots of new people and joys, a deeper understanding of God and my spiritual path. Those things are too nebulous to cram into lists and can't really be measured anyway, except in my heart. And in my heart I know them and I treasure them and I am incredibly grateful and humbled. In practical terms, the year ahead means the end of holidays and the more aggressive marketing of some work piled up on my agent's desk--but that stuff is done and its fate will be what its fate will be. I have many wondrous paths to explore this artificial calendar year--I don't really have specific goals, as I have no resolution except to honor the gifts and people I've been blessed with, so I can't say I'll write five novels, sell a major motion picture script, make the bestseller lists, or be photographed with a drunken Brittany Spears. My only goal is to embrace my journey with joy. I hope you find joy in this year of love and light. Girl watched a video I'd plucked from the library on "Creatures That Defied Evolution." Of course, I didn't realize it was a creationist series that explained how evolutionary theory couldn't produce certain weird creatures. The ones Girl noted in her little book were the bombadier "beadle" and a woodpecker with a long tongue. At first I was horrified, like, "I can't believe they have this in the library," then to, "Well, I'm sure glad people like me can't have it taken out of the library." The whole debate of creationism v. evolution is goofy, anyhow. It all came from God and God doesn't seem too worried about it. Dec. 25
I've been grooving on Tegan and Sara's album The Con, which has been out half a year but which I only bought as a rare impulse buy while Christmas shopping. It's so emotionally complex, the melodies are syncopated and original, and the harmonies are creative, plus it flexes some pretty cool pop muscles in places. I'm a bit bewildered that my worldview is so accurately reflected by 27-year-old lesbian identical twins from Canada. I doubt if age, orientation, or nationality have much to do with it, but I've listened to it nearly nonstop for the past week. A contributor's copy of Black Static # 2 popped up in the mail, containing my story "Must See To Appreciate," a skewed version of haunted realty (and yes, that's realty, not reality, though many people pronounce it with three syllables--real-uh-tee). If you do that, or you say "heighth" with a th sound on the end, I promise I will never buy property from you. Buy it, not for my story, but for the fine work by F. Brett Cox, Christopher Fowler, Steve Rasnic Tem, Lisa Tuttle, Mike O'Driscoll and plenty more. I love everything put out by TTA Press and it's a quality, honorable publishing enterprise. Also got an acceptance for my hillbilly paranormal story "Bone By Bone" for a future issue of Cemetery Dance Magazine. Dec. 14 Comics by their nature need much more action than either a movie or novel, because you don't want a bunch of panels where talking heads are spouting balloons. And I've learned a couple of other advantages, such as the use of the "info box" to do the work of backstory or explanation. You simply can't do it in a movie script without clumsiness, and even the subtle "graphic over" often seems a little out of place, and most voice-over simply sounds like a stumped screenwriter resorting to the source material because she couldn't find a way to visually project an important passage. I watched the director's cut of "Blade Runner" a couple of weeks ago, Ridley Scott's vision that didn't include the dorky Harrison Ford monologue over. Not only was the monologue unnecessary, it did more than just add clutter--it was so lifeless and wooden (I assume intentionally, to maybe make us think he was a robot) that it annoyed to the point of distraction. I'm not saying "Always trust the director's vision," because movies are art by committee and too often the writers seem cut out of the most essential final decisions. But people love "rock stars," and it is more convenient to anoint the actors or directors, people who serve as the Face. That's why the minor and goofy hubbub over the allegedly atheist Golden Compass was known as "the Kidman movie" instead of the creation of author Phillip Pullman. On the other hand, authors tend to be randomly shot less often than other celebrities, so maybe it's not all bad. Dec. 9 Then I realized they created "moments," and maybe it doesn't touch millions but it sure matters when it happens, like when I finally figure out one of their lines in the mad harmony mixes. "Everything decays, pyramids and palaces to dust, empires crumble in, wedding cake begins to must and moulder...and what made me think we're any better, and what made me think we'd last forever?" I don't know if I'll ever "make it big" as a writer, and I have a ton of loyal readers, and I'm so incredibly humbled by it. Once in a while I get morose that I'm not a bestseller or a household name, but the truth is, I believe we get what we deserve and we find the level we're supposed to achieve as long as we stay on the path. I'm not selling a million copies, but just maybe I am creating a few moments for people. And it doesn't matter much if those moments happen while the book or script is sitting on a media executive's desk or if a down-and-out college students picks up a battered and used copy in a thrift shop. Empires crumble in, all paper goes to dust, but those moments endure. I'm not selling much at the moment but the stuff I'm putting on paper feels like it's the best ever, like I'm finally figuring out what all those words are for. Sure, I'd love a fat bank account, but man, I've got dreams to share. That's pretty cool. Hopefully, we'll have a moment together. Please pass the potatoes. Dec. 2 I should have known better and I probably did know better, as aside from Terminator II I can't think of a single sequel that I've really enjoyed. I've always resented serials, remakes, and unending sequels because it feels like a slick marketing trick to me. Plus, of course, there's the core truth that the movie you go to see can never "end," only set up more potential episodes. I much prefer an experience, an arc with a beginning, middle, and end, where the characters change (and maybe even marry or die, or both) instead of dumping you back where you started, say, on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise or the galleon of Jack Sparrow. So Rob Zombie's "Halloween" is a movie I would not watch if it were the last movie on Earth. People actually turned away at the ticket booth on that last night when they found out the other screen, which had featured "3:10 to Yuma," would not have a second showing. Those I talked with who had watched "Halloween" expressed regret, but they pretty much got what they expected and went in knowing it. Zombie's "The Devil's Rejects" may be the worst movie ever made, red pornography slathered over shallow characterization that celebrates "evil" without justification or explanation. There's no point besides torture, no underlying message except perhaps that the director is really cynical about his audience. (And if you try to sell me on the notion that the story is "about" a family's loyalty and love bound in their common fondness for mutilation, then you desperately need therapy, and I don't issue that prescription lightly). Message boards were abuzz when Zombie and the classic "Halloween" were linked for a remake, and most every horror film fan was already locked into a commitment, an unreasonable reaction to a carefully packaged product that had no chance of delivering anything new or inventive. In short, hardly worth two hours of time. I have nothing against Rob Zombie, and I've heard people say he's a real cool cat. Wonderful. I just will not watch his movies, even when they're killing theaters. And I wonder about all the other uninspired movies that are killing theaters. Nov. 28 Of course, Hollywood is the exact opposite, and films are more likely to undeservedly be labeled "horror" because the movie audience for the genre is very loyal and broad. A run of popular horror films has never really carried over or created interest in horror fiction, and I think it's safe to assume this will always remain true--with the recent National Endowment for the Arts study showing a continually declining readership, I believe there will never be a large horror book audience. That doesn't mean people don't read, or that people don't like scary stuff; horror is just as dead as westerns and big-bug monster fiction. Kind of makes you wonder why anybody bothers writing the crap... Oddly enough, I'm not bitter about it, though I have not yet embraced the idea that I either need to write something else or cleverly disguise the weird stuff in my books. I just kind of fell into a groove, and I don't even read that much horror fiction myself. I don't even view it as a "problem." It's not like I can say, "You're stupid if you don't like horror" or "Everybody loves horror," because it's clearly untrue. It's just reality. Lucky for me, I've never had much use for reality. Nov. 22 I got a wonderful letter from him some time back, after I had written to let him know of his influence on my work and asked him for a blurb. He declined the blurb but was truly humbled by my praise--I'll always treasure that letter. Though he had largely retired from writing, I will always keep copies of his books around and find his books are instructive texts on human nature and the collective beast of society. Some quick recs of newer things: Writer Joe Schreiber, whose latest release is "Eat The Dark." He writes with a dark, gritty style that punches effectively, and he has a nice turn of phrase. Liam Jackson is another newer writer I've discovered, who is publishing under the guise of "not-horror" and will soon launch his second trilogy with St. Martin's Press. The movie "Roman" is probably available at your local DVD outlet, and it stars Lucky McKee and is directed by Angela Bettis, in a sort of reversal of their roles in the cult hit "May." This movie annoyed me at first with the very bad focus and color (I'd think they could afford a slightly better camera) and the atonal and grating soundtrack, but after it was over it really stuck with me for a long time. "The Girl Next Door," the new movie based on the book by Jack Ketchum, with some of the coolest people in the industry involved. It has limited theater release but should be making the rounds on DVD in a few months. Nov. 17
I don't have television service and television writing doesn't interest me, though in the past I've enjoyed such shows as "Law and Order" and "MASH." However, I would never say, "I don't care about the strike because I don't watch television." I am a writer. I'm also a libertarian. I am not a member of the Writers Guild, though I would certainly join the instant I qualified (you have to sell a pretty major project, and dues are $2,500 a year--this isn't auto workers trying to get dental care for their kids). I'm not educated enough on all the facets of the dispute between producers, studios, and networks and the rank-and-file wordsmiths who slog away in conditions that would be considered "air-conditioned sweat shop" if they weren't compensated so well. But the basic issue is the battle over electronic rights and allowing the writers to share in profits from electronic distribution and new media. Since Internet downloads may very well supplant DVD sales in the same way DVD replaced VHS, which replaced 8mm home movies and school-room film projectors, then writers stand to lose a significant source of income not only for themselves, but for future generations of writers. And since no doubt the Internet itself will be supplanted by new and unforeseen technology, the battle is crucial. This is happening in the world of fiction, too, as publishers become increasingly aggressive about gobbling up rights, even ones like e-books that have no value at the moment. No doubt many people have the idea that "If it's on the Internet, it's free," and writers who squeal when they see someone posting their work without permission may have no qualms about illegally downloading music or illegally copying a DVD or CD. I admit, I've copied two or three CDs in my life, but I also acknowledge that it is stealing if I give those copies to people so they won't have to buy them. I don't pretend it's not stealing, and I can't condone it or support, just as I engage in other immoral behavior that I know is immoral. Just because I do it doesn't make it not a sin. In this case, I support the writers--because I am a writer and because I am a screenwriter whose livelihood may one day be affected by the decisions at hand, but also because I believe in fair distribution of profits and that writers should share in the success of their work. Corporations control most media, and centralization of power means the money flows to fewer destinations, thus making the corporation even more powerful. And note that "corporation" isn't a faceless building that you feel justified in stealing from (if you shoplift at Wal-Mart, it's still stealing), it's a collection of people who make decisions based on perceptions of what is good for the corporation. Those perceptions are influenced by public opinion as it relates to profit, and though my one little diatribe won't change Rupert Murdoch's mind, it's a little like in "Horton Hears A Who," where the combined voices of tiny creatures eventually swell to a revelatory crescendo. Seems pretty moral to me. Nov. 12 "Walk The Line"--didn't that guy Phoenix win an award? He sang well but mostly he flopped around on his belly in the mud and talked out the side of his mouth. Still, I guess Cash is cool, so the award is probably about Cash as much as anything. (I was raised on Cash--not the money, but the old "Ring of Fire" era. I even like the latter stuff that became hip with the college kids). "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind"--this movie seemed vaguely familiar but I must have watched it back in my drinking days. Ironic that there are spots in my memory about a movie where memory is erased. It was good. Except I'll never watch with another commentary track again--who cares if the writer had an infected tooth while he was pitching to the studio? Or that the director describes verbatim what's happening on the screen as if relaying it to a blind person? I've yet to experience a running commentary that wasn't inane. I could only take 30 seconds of it. "New York Doll"--awesome documentary about the bass player for the New York Dolls and how he prepares for a reunion concert 30 years later. An incredibly warm and human story about the power of dreams. Highly recommended. Nov. 8 Nov. 5 I went to a Samhain ritual on Halloween, though I am not technically Wiccan or pagan. I just enjoy the fellowship and I'm never one to pass up a chance to commune with those on the "other side," though I don't know all that many dead folks I'd care to hook up with. During the anointing bit, I drew the Seven of Wands for my Tarot card. It is very apt; I can't remember my card last year, but it was pretty much a bummer. However, the Seven of Wands is a card of competition and overcoming obstacles and fears to make your dreams come true. Every time I've ever drawn a Tarot card or had a reading, it always points to that type of creative success. I keep hoping for the one that promises lots of sex, but I guess I'm destined to just write and be content. Or maybe write well enough to get rich and buy all the sex I want. I can't imagine any other reason to be rich...
“Chicks with bricks and
blocks and clocks come.” In my research, I learned Seuss is actually pronounced "Zoice." Zoinks. But I guess if six billion people pronounce it wrong, that makes it right, right? Oct. 27 Got
contributors' copies today of Legends of the Mountain
State, a
collection of I do a lot of thinking about storytelling, in whatever form, and usually I can figure out the ending, or the two possible plot twists, very early. I think it's because I'm thinking along with the creator, not because I'm a genius or anything. Most creators paint themselves into a corner in the second act, so it's delightful when something completely works for me. I've been under the weather so I've been on the couch watching a lot of movies. I'm not stretching my brain much. Recent ones have been Revenge of the Zombie Army, Boogie Nights, The Emperor's New Groove, The Astronaut's Wife, and The Attack of the Killer Leeches. Okay, this may surprise you, but for pure storytelling skill, here's how I rate them: 1) The Emperor's New Groove. This movie is just plain awesome. It has charm, humor, and heart. A good moral lesson without being cheesy, decent animation without copping out for the visual extravaganza and losing the story. This is the kind of thing I would be very proud to create. This is probably the fourth time I've seen it and it still holds up. 2) The Attack of the Killer Leeches. Roger Corman. That tells you all you need to know. Lack of budget and inflatable vinyl monsters aside, this one delivered exactly what it promised and maintained its tone. Square-jawed, hairy-chested hero saves the day with a little help from his friends and the support of the loyal but overprotective gal pal. An honest movie, with a solid plot and interesting characterization. 3) The Astronaut's Wife. I love Johnny Depp, he's probably my favorite actor now that Eastwood and Nicholson have aged out of prime time. He does a great job here as the warm man turning cold, and Charlize Theron is easy on the eyes, but the plot is little more than a big-budget version of a Corman effort, with an inherently flawed premise. It gives nothing away to say that once the big mystery is revealed, you automatically realize that the plot development is contrived solely to benefit the convenience of the storytellers--the reality is that the premise doesn't require the cooperation of Depp and Theron at all, it could happen to anyone, or everyone at once. It gets even worse when they try to throw in "twists" when there are really only two possible outcomes and neither would be a surprise. 4) Revenge of the Zombie Army. Old b & w with zombies that basically just stare straight ahead and do whatever their master bids and never so much as munch a finger. But it is built around a timeless conflict, a man's love for a woman and how he's willing to shed morality to win her, while knowing she loves another. Despite some ham-handed production and predictability, it still has some heart. 5) Boogie Nights. The late 1970s disco era was already old and square when I was entering my formative cultural years, so I try not to let that influence my look at the structure. Okay, we get it: the porn industry is filled with desperate, vapid, cynical people. Anybody who watches five minutes of real porn understands this already. And it would have worked if it had maintained that air-headed tone throughout, but somewhere near the end of the second act it veers off in a totally random and violent direction and becomes another movie. Sure, there is violence in any seedy industry where funny money abounds, but to have it happen all at the same time to a small group of people in separate incidents seems way too contrived and basically broke the contract with the audience, and Humpty Dumpty could not be put together again. All I ever heard about this movie was "It's Burt Reynold's comeback," which is probably the only thing anyone could really say about it, for better or worse. Okay, so now I've figured out what works and what doesn't. And I'm sure you're thinking, "Gee, Scott, if you're so damned smart, why aren't you writing blockbuster movies with heart?" Good question. I think I'll go do that right now. Oct. 23 It don't do to think about
things like that too much. If she was here, I've been having pretty good luck getting movies at the local library, instead of the video store that offers plotless CGI noise adventures like Resident Evil, which are basically like watching your friend play a video game. Last week I got "Lolita," which was wonderful, though I thought it missed some of the subtle social parody of the book--the movie relied on voiceover lines from Nabakov's book to add the necessary literary and academic distance to a movie that's basically about a pedophile. It's a delicate dance to try to make him sympathetic, and the very fact that is name is "Humbert Humbert" immediately clues in the book reader that this is not to be taken too seriously. If you read this blog much, you know I believe most types of voiceover are signs of a weak script or else material that maybe has no business being addressed on screen. Also watched a movie with Madeline Stowe and Aidan Quinn where the blind Stowe gets eye implants and "sees" a killer and the cop Quinn falls for her while trying to protect her--except his goofy Gumby hairdo and dopey high-school-clarinetist looks make him laughable as a hardcore, seasoned detective. Anyway, I can't remember the name of that one, so I can't warn you away. Oct. 15 Oh, yeah, also the 20th annual Year's Best Fantasy & Horror is out, containing, well the best fantasy and horror of last year. Yeah, of course, one of the stories is mine, or I wouldn't mention it! "Dog Person" is an odd one, very dark, and certainly you should buy the book anyway, because it contains the best fantasy and horror. And an overview of the genres for the year. And my story. Did I mention you should buy it? Still
working on both the script and graphic novel of "The
Gorge," it's approaching the two-thirds point.
There's a new ezine called Dark Scribe Magazine that just came out,
and it's awesome, edited by the very capable Vince
Liaguno. It really does read like a magazine, with lots
of material and gorgeous layout. And it doesn't hurt that
it has moi as an Here's a still from the movie "Buried Beneath," in which I played a member of the police board that scolds a detective who "doesn't play by the rules." At one point, in a vision, we become bloody-eyed, vacant zombie demons. Finally, a role for which I was born and have been practicing all my life... Oct. 7 Oddities--the local weather forecaster kept going on about a "risk of rain," as in "There's a 30-percent risk of rain." Media pundits have gotten so much stupider in the decade-plus I've been in the business, notably through their banal and offbase editorializing while supposedly making unbiased observations. A "risk" might accurately be applied to a hurricane, but not for rain in an area that has been in a drought for several years, as much of North Carolina has. Indeed, the risk would seem to be in continued dry conditions. Another newscaster kept reffering to "they" in the weather forecasts, even being so doofed as to say "They are forecasting dry conditions so they can run up our water bills." Who is this "they" with so much power? And how can this type of radio "personality" be trusted with the airwaves in the event of a real emergency? The trouble started when TV heads began referring to story subjects by their first names, in shallow attempts to create an emotional connection between the victims and the viewers. Reporters have increasingly taken on the role of social commentators, something for which they're no more equipped than the average trash collector--except, of course, for the proximity of microphones. My antidote, besides being an obvious curmudgeon, is to click off the dial whenever possible--and I do. Of course, the Internet contains more stupidity than every other medium combined, and I contribute my share of the noise. Click away if you dare. Sept. 29 The paranormal investigation of the Green Park Inn was loads of fun. Here's the link. I didn't encounter anything that would change my current belief ("It's possible, but I'll believe it when I see it.") But I learned a lot about the process and a little about the personalities of paranormal enthusiasts, and I'll do it again if given the chance. With my role in "Against The Wind" wrapped until snowfall, I'm turning in a bit part for "Buried Beneath," a low-budget serial killer thriller filmed in western North Carolina. I will play a member of a police board chastising "the cop who doesn't play by the rules" and I'll end up with blood on my face. Sept. 22
I believe I have an article coming out from this same press about the Stephen King book "Needful Things." Something of which I should be an expert...in more ways than one. Today is spent nursing a sick goat--they are so prone to parasites that the metaphor of "tough old goat" must apply only to their meat. Of course, since they also cost a lot, are picky eaters, and have absolutely no connection to Satan, they are far more trouble than they are worth. Talk about knowing someone: I told Girl I'd fixed the car and she responded, "Oh, boy. Does this involve duct tape?" Sept. 19 Sent off a section of the graphic novel script to the potential artist. I think I have enough down to send out a decent sample. I thought the comic script would move "slower" than the movie script on which it is based (which is, naturally, much faster than the novel). Basically the formula looks like 5 comic pages=10 movie pages=100 novel pages, though the different formats emphasize different elements. For example, in a movie script you can't have internal dialogue and in a comic you use one panel, or one fixed moment in time, to represent a larger chunk of time and action. Funny, but in my movie scripts I've always resorted to the type of "comic book sound effect" that was made corny in the old "Batman" television series. You know, where the trombone wails and the cartoon balloon "BIFFFF" fills the screen as Batman slugs the Joker. I like to create inventive SFX, which I suppose the literati would call "geekboy onomatopoeia." Feels like it adds a little spark to a process that can seem far too pompous otherwise. Sept. 16
I'm still waiting for the paperwork on the film option for The Manor, but it looks like Inevitable Film Group is trying to put together a deal. These guys have shown interest in my work for a year as they've been setting up the new company, and it looks like they have a good plan for success. You're likely to see one or two more of my projects there soon. "The Manor" is my script adaptation of my novel, though the two projects have quite a few differences (mostly due to the lack of internal dialogue in a movie and the need for visual spooks). Fingers crossed on that one as I try to put together a couple more deals. Sept. 9 Also watched "Perfume," because I'd heard a lot about the book and Brad Batchelor apparently considers it a "thoughtful horror movie." It took me four tries to get through it, but it was interesting. The problem was basic--how do you make a movie where the primary sense is smell, since the audience can't smell the movie (unless it stars Rob Schneider, then you can smell it from Brisbane)? It actually did okay on that point, though it fell back into that trite gimmick that usually happens when turning a "literary novel" into a movie--you revert to voiceover and add classical music. When critics call something "stylish," that usually means "boring." The ending also totally violated the entire storytelling contract--it shifted into bizarre magic realism. Still, it was thought-provoking enough that I will overlook the failures. I'll give the team credit for trying something different. Sept. 3 Though I look mean and serious in all my scenes, it's actually because my brain is boiling due to all the leather and the fact that I'm not wearing my glasses and I'm squinting at everything, like bullets, airplane hangers, the director's wildly waving arms, the ground. I'm also ready to ditch the mustache. New article up about graphic novels. I've got a positive response on adapting They Hunger but I'm realizing I need to get some artwork for it, which probably means hiring an artist. I believe professionals should be paid but I'm not so sure about investing in a speculative venture. Besides, all my friends in movies and comics are all trying to write novels now because they think the grass is greener over here...hell, and here I am winging into the world of indie acting, which is almost as bad as poetry when it comes to getting paid. Aug. 22 I always chuckle when I hear commentary tracks of movies (which I rarely do because they are so stultifyingly boring) and all the actors can share of their experience was how hot it was that day or how so-and-so was a real trooper for doing their take six times while wearing a rubber dinosaur belly. They rarely bring the world into their experience. Well, screw that--try digging ditches in 100-degree heat. I've done that, plenty of times. Tell them to get a goddamned job if they're going to whine about life outside an air-conditioned trailer. A portion of a major motion picture was shot here, and a friend of mine was location scout. He talked about how the caterer had to go to every grocery store in town to find bananas that had no spots. It's not like they're eating the peels. I'll bet Johnny Depp would never insist on spotless bananas. Anyway, what's the point? Am I bitter because I'm not a pompous, successful actor or do I think acting is a peculiar talent that deserves a little megolamania? I don't know. I'd still rather be a writer. Sending in my horror script and about to adapt "They Hunger" as a script and possibly a graphic novel. I have a talented artist lined up and it's just a matter of figuring out how to script a comic (and then getting a deal for it, of course). It's going to be under my original title of "The Gorge." Then we'll see. Aug. 16 Still working on screenplays, though I'm exploring a graphic novel project based on one of my books. The plan is to develop it simultaneously as a movie script--we'll see how that works out. I also have an idea for a bizarre and fun little series that sounds like it could sell. As usual, it's a case of where best to put the energy. I need to nail a couple of these projects down because I don't like the feeling of being scatterbrained. I'm hearing They Hunger is still pretty visible in the stores, and even in the United Kingdom, which is strange since I didn't get a deal there. I guess somebody bucked up and paid the overseas freight to get them there. I'm still acting in "Against The Wind," with a couple of lines and more scenes, including what looks to be a death scene Sunday. Since one of my deepest fantasies is to die on screen, this may work out in ways I've never imagined. Aug. 7 TrinocCon was a blast--one of the best cons I've ever been to, with a really warm vibe. George R.R. Martin was hilarious and wise, and I got to see friends like Alex Sokoloff, Dale Bailey, and Stephen Mark Rainey, as well as meet people I've admired like Elizabeth Hand and Nathan Ballingrud. Here are me and Alex, and I'm reading her excellent novel "The Harrowing." My foray into drama (besides that little bit already afforded by my human existence) continues Friday night as I "guest star" in the outdoor drama Horn in the West in Boone, NC. I supposedly dress up in late 17th century pioneer gear, along with Girl, then stand around for a while until I figure out when to deliver my line. Sunday, I'll be back at the airport in Marion, NC, shooting more scenes from "Against The Wind," with a few lines and a more active involvement in the production of the movie. I'm exploring ways to do more movie work, though of course my first wish is to be a writer.
The garden is rolling along fine. Squash, tomatoes, tons of greens, garlic, onions. Should have corn, peppers, and okra in a week or two. The weeds are taking over but at this time of year I don't worry about it that much, because first freeze is probably less than two months away. As long as the goats are happy, I'm happy. July 29 And
it's something totally different than what most people
might expect. Except those who really know me. They'll be
the ones who will say, "This is what you should have
been writing all along." It's a long story, but
basically I've been working on this one my entire career,
so I suppose in some ways it IS my entire creative
journey. Oh, and, there could be a sequel...if it sells,
and if the publisher wants another, and if the Person Who
Gets The Byline lets me write it. Now I'm continuing with another Project Unlike My The-The Novels under A Name That Is Different From The Other Two. Need a scorecard? Just to keep it simple, there is a Scott Nicholson "The-The" book under submission to my agent, so don't think the spooky Appalachian folk tales are all done. And there are some other projects. That's what I've been up to while not updating my blog, so forget all the rumors about my confinement in rehab, my secret marriage in Costa Rica, or my fiery death as a Mayan volcanic sacrifice. No, wait--I like that one, and it would probably be good for book sales. I'll get another turn as "Cpl. Scott Nichols" in Against The Wind, and now I am promised some lines. I didn't get any last time, besides a grunt, though I had several scenes where my face basically chewed up the scenery. At least my face is good for something, and maybe the director will need it to stop a propellor or something. I'm going to Charlotte tomorrow for a press junket surrounding the premier of The List. Hopefully I'll get to share some krovvy with Malcolm McDowell. July 20 I have to shave my beard, which has again reached hillbilly proportions--I suppose the military was so-so clean-cut back then because I'll have a mustache and my hippie hair will be stuffed under one of those "Rocky The Flying Squirrel" caps. And I get the groovy goggles. It's possible I'll have to ride in a rickety biplane--a friend of mine knows the plane and said, "It runs okay but he hasn't figured out how to stop it yet." Oh, well, beats slipping and cracking your skull in the dairy section. Who wouldn't want an obituary that read, "He died in a fiery movie scene"? Man, think of the CNN coverage and the books that would sell, not to mention the moral outrage over the proliferation of Internet bootlegs. I've always wanted to be a "celebrity death photo," but I'm kind of hoping it will be 30 years from now... July 13 Anyway, as soon as something officially happens, I'll be sure to officially verify, but in the meantime, the rumor is good publicity so go tell all your friends you heard it from the horse's mouth. (When you think about it, aren't all horses "naysayers"?) Maybe I've just been awake too long. Here's a photo by Jamie Goodman of me stepp |
like your thrills with a dash of social
theory, then this is one for you.
That's
fine with me, because "weird" is probably the
best all-around label to stick on my forehead.
d.g.k. goldberg is now
available from Prime Books. Thanks to 
They get tour buses. People fly in from all over the
country to buy pork there. Miles and miles of meat.
Entrails crackled, ground, or stuffed. Pig pureed,
peppered, and pounded. Snouts sausaged, sizzled, and
stewed. And in the spirit of such, just in time for
Valentine's Day, is the freefic offering "
cause its value as a
shipping port had faded. Now it's part of the national
park system. I hope one day to be able to visit it. More
tax-deductible adventures.
And it is through Girl that holiday delights
come, such as her informing me that "yule" is a
burning log and that she used to think the verse before
fa-la-la went "Johnny now come gay-time carol."
And then she asked me what Jesus did with the myrrh,
something I'd never thought to wonder myself, but she
eventually decided Joseph probably saved it for him until
he grew up. (Which still doesn't really answer the
question--what do you do with myrrh? Regift it?) And she
invented a new version of "Twelve Days of
Christmas," going "Three unipegs, two turtle
pigs and a goat in a pear tree." Unipegs, I learned,
are a cross between a unicorn and Pegasus. She came up
with all this in the space of a 15-minute drive. Yes, I
count my blessings.
They reached some fame and
fortune in the 80's and were definitely influential to a
certain set of bands, but they're not exactly household
names. It certainly didn't help that lead singer Andy
Partridge, who describes himself as looking like a
potato, actually looks like a potato.
It's fairly well established that writers
are about the least powerful element in the
television/movie hierarchy, best summed up in the
one-liner, "Did you hear about the actress who was
so dumb she slept with a writer to get ahead?" It's
also fairly well established that without a good script,
media of most any kind is a load of steaming goat dung
(and note that even talking-head infotainment and
"reality" shows are scripted to some degree to
create a structure).
literary land of the Tarheel
state, including such famous wordsmiths as Thomas Wolfe,
Sharyn McCrumb, George Frazier, Lee Smith, and even some
people who write a little lower down the food chain. Like
me. Though I am lumped with Lilian Jackson Braun and Kay
Hooper as authors whose "cliffhangers with high
sales figures" have brought national attention to
the region. High sales figures? Somebody better notify my
lawyer, because I eat beans and rice…
We have this feature at my newspaper called
"MountainTops" where each week the staff
chooses some kind of favorite. This week, it was
"favorite line." My entry is: 
stories based on West
Virginia folk tales. My story "Silver Run" was
inspired by the haunted train tunnels that abound in the
coal country. It's a little cynical, almost Twainish, and
probably is pretty honest about my interpersonal
relationships with females, such as they are. I feel my
last couple of novels were cynical, too, but I think the
newer projects move away from that a little, mainly by
making women more prominent and heroic figures and moving
away from the value of a "core relationship" to
the plot. Let's face it, family moving to haunted house,
couple under stress, couple resolves their differences
while overcoming Evil is a pretty tired scenario. And
I've yet to see that actually happen in real life.
have died and gone to
heaven. Or heavin', or something.
interview
subject, at my salty, tarted-up finest. It's free, though
registration is required. Definitely worth checking out.
Also a little interview up at 
ones
are pretty easy to find (collectors don't place much
value on book club editions). I would usually buy a case
of each of my books and send out most of them for review.
So I kept only a handful each of 
My story "Constitution" has just
come out in 
Watched Akira Kirosawa's classic
"Ran" last night, all 160 minutes of it. I love
Kurosawa's mise en scene (there I go with the
French again, though you'll have to pry my "freedom
fries" from my cold, dead, cholesterol-clogged
fingers), though his stories tend to unfold
slowly. "Ran" is a feudalistic Japanese
retelling of Shakespeare's "King Lear," so as
you can imagine, insanity and betrayal get a lot of free
reign, and of course there's the obligatory manipulative
woman.
victory over Michigan. I'm
an ASU graduate and though I grumble about increased
traffic, it was a wild time. The students tore down the
home goalposts, even though it was an away game. Our
newspaper is printing extra copies of the sports edition
because we figure it will be a collector's item. My
friend Marie Freeman took a lot of cool pictures at 
movie,
as director/producer/writer Brad Batchelor is getting
lots of actor calls on the movie. After three days of
filming, I'd guess I'm in maybe eight or 10 scenes as a
pilot. I'm not an actor by any stretch. The best I can do
is keep a grim face and act like war is hell. I can't
even get in the mind frame of being a World War I
aviator. But I can look sweaty and anxious and look at
the sky--not hard to do when we're encased in leather
with temperatures approaching 100 at the airfield. 
Here's a shot of actress
Hilarie Burton at the premiere of "
Have some action on one of my books and
scripts. Nothing's final yet (boy, those words and
Hollywood go together like Myspace and "unexpected
error") but it looks like everything's worked out
but the actual signatures and the actual part of the
dream where some cigar-smoking cinematic genius backs a
truckload of money to my door. Oh, wait, maybe that was
in the script...