This is Halloween?

Happy Halloween!  Trick or Treat!  Sometimes I can't decide what I'd like more.

So here we sit on All Hallows and I have to admit that my only emotion is confusion.  What?  Halloween?  When the fuck did that happen?  It pounced on me, unprepared, costume-less, and, instead of tearing me to bits and chewing on my soul like it usually does, simply ran past me, and left me bewildered and un-mauled.  I feel a bit like you might after waking up on December 26th and realizing you'd been skipped by Santa the day before and not even noticed.  Shit.  How did this happen?

My blog tells me I've been incommunicado for three and a half months.  Strange because I could swear that my friend Bill was in town just a few weeks ago.  Evidently I'm experiencing some sort of X-files style time loss.  No, wait, maybe I can backtrack and figure this out.

The frame shop, maybe it's the shops fault.  Lets look at the numbers... Hmmm... yep, I think this might have something to do with it.  August, September, and October have all been at least 300% more busy than last year!  That explains something!  Clearly, I'm buried with lots of work framing art for people and keeping the new business alive.  This is a good thing.  Even so, it seems like that wouldn't have been enough to derail me from seeing my favorite holiday coming.

Oh hey, what's this?

Oh yeah!  Princess Thirza!  This little gigglebucket has been taking up a bit of my time and attention.  When Gale's not busy getting tickled by yours truly she spends her time bouncing on my belly and trying to choke me with my own necklace.  It's great fun.  But not enough fun to distract me from Samhain!  Surely there must be something else?

Could it be TaleTown?  Absolutely responsible for some of it.  Taletown is coming along slowly but surely.  I say slowly, but really, considering the scope of the project, and taking into account that it wasn't even conceived of 10 months ago, it's actually moving along ridiculously quickly.  I'd say we're about 35-40% of the way to full playability.  We've got dozens of bits of artwork, the ability to upload it into the game, interior house art is done, database being filled out, and, and, and.... it's all moving along.  Too much to cover. Gimmie six weeks, ask nicely, and you might get to come in, look around, kick the tires, and see how this thing works.  We're hoping for launch in May, realistically July, but who knows.  I'm not much for realistically or else I wouldn't be doing all this stuff simultaneously.  In any case, it's looking awesome.  Here's an interior screenshot if you want to set the inside of your house to fully "creepy" genre for Halloween.

Was is my writing?  No way.  I haven't managed to write any actual prose since July.  I did complete an entire map and world for the TaleTown Multiverse and outline and write the first portion of the comic book I'll be doing with Jiba Molei Anderson; Taletown: The Chrom.  That took up a chunk of my time/creativity in August and September mostly.

Surely all that's enough to keep me from noticing Halloween, right?  Nope.  I'm a Halloween fanatic!  It would have to take a lot more than that!  How about uprooting everything you own and having to move in three weeks?  Would that push it over the top?  *sighs heavily*  Well... I think it just might.

Less than a month ago we discovered that the home we're renting went into foreclosure.  There were several options on the table but the best one involved the bank basically paying us a lump of cash to avoid continuing the lease.  Lumps of cash are good.  But it meant finding a place to live, packing, and moving, in three weeks.  This is, of course, on top of all the other stuff I've already listed. 

We pulled it off.  We found a place, packed it all up, and we've moved.  We're surrounded by boxes.  I opened one and that's when Halloween jumped out and rushed past me.  Damn it.

Next year I'm starting to clear my schedule on October first and painting a great big pumpkin shaped bulls-eye on my chest!

Lord of the Boobs!

Went to see the Lord of the Boobs Burlesque show last week with my buddy Bill at the Gorilla Tango theater.  It's a small place, right down from the bar I hang out at.  It's tiny, but nice.  Lots of brick and, well, as stage, not much else.

The show was more like a comedy play, with interspersed burlesque acts, than your average dancing girl show.  I could tell that whoever wrote it had learned their lessons in "geek-speak" well and had a +1 Girdle of Humor on.  Four heroes set out to kill the evil "DragonBitch".  They meet with werewolves, witches, life stealing dryads, spiders, and malicious pixies along the way.  The whole thing was ripe with D&D jokes (Tit Point for Hit Points, etc), LotR and Harry Potter jokes, and... of course, booty jokes (dwarf underwear reading "Sweet Loot").  The attitude was more silly and fun than sexy, but in a good way.  And there was no lack of sexy too.  It all culminated in a fight between two dragon chicks, a big dance number, and a hell of a lot of applause.  Totally worth seeing!

The four heroines get their quest from the Dungeon Master of Ceremonies

Some fairy girls steal the dwarfs clothing.

The birch dryad's dance.

The big finale!

Top 5 Sounds That Can Never Be Loud Enough

So, any of you who know me are probably aware of my occasional love of excess.  Whole packs of cookies tremble before me, entire TV series absorbed in mere days, entire bodies of works by a particular author read in weeks (chronologically).  Some good things I just can't get enough of.  With that spirit in mind I'd like to give you the Top 5 Sounds That Can Never Be Loud Enough!  In my life, so far, I've never heard any of the following things at a volume that truly satisfies me.  Hopefully, someday I'll be able to fill a canyon with speakers, crank them up, and crack the Earth's crust.

#5.) Swordfights.
There's just something awesome about the clashing of two swords.  Razor sharp steel, swinging at full speed, hammering into another equally deadly instrument of dismemberment is, arguably, the most magnificent sound of collision matter can make.  Hammer to wall, head-on auto collisions, meteors crashing into planets, all pale in comparison to the metallic song two swords can produce.  But they could always hit harder, ring louder!  Although, they do a pretty good job in this clip.  Please note: these are not typical wussy katana swords.  These are some beef-tastic, smasherific, awesome swords.

#4.) Fireworks
I've been to a lot of fireworks shows.  I've also done a fair amount of cutting up fireworks, pouring the powder out, mixing it into one giant firework, sticking a wick in it, and seeing what happens.  But of all the things to like about fireworks (the colors, the patterns, that gunpowder smell), there's nothing I like more than the sound.  My favorite are those tiny white ones that are so loud you feel them in your chest.  Someday, when I'm rich and famous, I'll pay someone to do a fireworks show with ONLY those, all around me, in 360, until I turn into pudding.  Delicious pudding.

#3) Thunder
When I was in Jr High and High School I lived on the first floor while my parents and the rest of my family all lived upstairs.  As a result, I could sneak out of my bedroom window without much trouble at all.  Whenever there was one of those great middle-of-the-night-thunderstorms I'd sneak out, meet up with my friend Gary, and we'd high-tail it off to the forest preserve.  There was a group of trees we called Five Pines.  We'd each pick a tree and climb as high as we could.  Yes, in the pouring rain, thunder, and lightening.  There were times when the trees had an 8-10 foot sway and the thunder sounded like we were right inside it.  Still, I don't think it was loud enough.  I'm going to need a bigger tree or a bigger storm.

#2) Can't Stop by the Red Hot Chili Peppers
There are a lot of songs that I like to listen to loud.  Some songs, in my mind, only work when they're knocking on your rib cage, trying to push the very soul out of your meat.  It's a long list.  Can't Stop by the Chili Peppers is on the top of the list simply because EVERY time I hear it I want it louder.  Cranking up the headphones helps, but I don't get that "full body vibration" feeling that I'm looking for.  I want to be rattled.  Here's the video.  Crank it.

#1) Godzilla's Roar
There is nothing like Godzilla's roar and I can only dream what it would sound like actually emerging from the lungs of the forty story radioactive beast himself.  Puny movie theater and television speakers don't do it justice.  How could they?  Godzilla's roar, that semi-metallic squeal combined with a deep organic rumble, is a sound meant to terrify monsters that gobble up cities.  It's a cry that, most often, is followed by a face melting blast of atomic energy.  It pours out past teeth twice the height of a man with the force of a hurricane.  I sure hope some crazy Godzilla fan with a genetic engineering degree is working hard in some basement in Tokyo right now or else I'll never get to hear the big guy live!

My Interview with Bad Grammar

 

I've had the distinct privilege of being interviewed 

by Brendan Detzner at Bad Grammar!

It's a good half hour of me having my brain picked on all sorts of intriguing topics. 

We discuss Cult Fiction, TaleTown, the state of writing and publishing in general, and then we finish up with me reading my strange magical horror-esque story "The Drunkards Quartet". 

Listen to it here at Bad Grammar #10!

Entraining my Brain

 When I was in my early twenties I used to enjoy the occasional trip downtown to a place, now long gone, called The Float Experience for a dip in a sensory deprivation tank.  A what now?  An isolation tank.  Remember that movie Altered States where the dude takes a buncha weird shrooms, lock himself in a dark tank and reverts to a primordial caveman form?  One of those.  Only there's no drugs or neanderthals.  That movie did for sense-dep tanks what Jaws did for sharks.  Vilified them!  Turned them into something dark, dangerous, and scary.  Well, just like swimming at the beach isn't actually synonymous with being feasted upon by sharks, putting yourself into a tank isn't the road to self-induced madness.

But you might go a little crazy, in a good way.

I could go on and on about the experience in tanks, but really, it's a very personal and subjective experience. It's fairly different for everyone.  It strips away the stimulus and the noise of modern life and leaves you alone with your brain.  How much you enjoy it depends on your brain.  If you dig your brain, get along with it, and understand why it's doing what it does most of the time; you'll likely enjoy the tank.  If you don't like to go poking around in your brain, unless you're planning on changing that habit, I wouldn't recommend it.  It's just you and your mind.  All these testimonies you hear about tanks being relaxing, well, they're assuming you don't have decades of abuse and mental issues just waiting to jump you once your mind is exposed.  And, honestly, this may be a good way to deal with that shit, but don't go in thinking it's a spa day.  Sensory deprivation tanks are mirrors to the things you can't normally reflect.  Gaze carefully.  But enough about tanks.  That's not what I want to talk about.  When we used to go it wasn't for the tanks.  It was for something else...

I want to talk about Brain Waves.

Okay, so here's the thing.  We're all emitting brain waves, all the time.  These can be measured with an electroencephalogram.  There are different types of waves your body gives off in different "States".  Beta when you're awake and active, Alpha when you're drifting to sleep, meditating, super relaxed or daydreaming, Theta when you're asleep, but dreaming, the unconscious active mind, and Delta when you're totally zonked in deep sleep.

The Float Experience used to have this machine that would emit light and sound (it's a LED filled pair of goggles and headphones) in a parallel frequency of the different brain wave states.  The idea was to get your mind to sync with the music/light, like the rhythm people naturally fall into when walking, or tapping your foot to music, or how one tuning fork will pick up the vibrations of another.  The idea of Entrainment is that the machine can play, oh, Theta waves, the ones you emit when you're dreaming, and your mind will auto-tune into that if you relax and let it.  Basically allowing for semi-conscious dream states and enhanced relaxation.  Unlike the tank, there are no demons resting here.

This was the best part of the trip.  I've just discovered a place that has one of these light/sound machines and an hour of brain entrainment is only 20 bucks!  I am soooo going on Tuesday.  Think of it as a brain tune up!

For any of you who are interested in this sort of stuff, below is a chunk of text lifted from LifeStream on how it all works.

Brainwave entrainment uses pulses of lights or sounds or a combination of both to create a rhythmic pulsing of "beats". With each pulsed tone, the brain produces an electrical response.
The brain is a mass of neurons, each taking part in storing, retrieving and transmitting electro-chemical impulses - information, colors, images, sounds, smells and tastes.
With BWE, different areas of the brain are stimulated, allowing for the awakening and subsequent release of various stored material. In a sense quietening the mind for clearer thought and process.
When the brain is provided with a stimulus, through the ears, eyes or other senses, it emits an electrical charge in response. This is called a Cortical Evoked Response.
These electrical responses travel throughout the brain to become what we see and hear. When the brain is given a consistent, repeating stimulus, such as drum beats or flashes of light, the brain responds by synchronizing, or entraining, its electric cycles to the external rhythm.
This is commonly called the Frequency Following Response (or FFR), and it can be used to effectively alter the brainwave pattern.
Deep relaxation is another major benefit resulting from the brains cortical frequency following response. By selecting the desired rate, the brain, via the frequency following response, will tend to mimic the rate it is exposed to and thus enter that brainwave state. This helps to explain why this technology can produce benefits commonly found with meditation.

The Underpass - Part 2

Here's the second half of our mini-comic!  Everyone deserves barbecue once in a while.

The Underpass - Part 1

 

A while back Bill Manning and I decided to collaborate on a little two page comic.  Here's the first page, I'll post the second next week some time.  Click to enlarge it.

This Melting Flesh

So, this weekend was the Cult Fiction: Unholy Sacrifices show.  It marks our fourth show and an entire year of Cult Fiction.  One down, many to go!  With the arrival of Gale I knew I couldn't commit to being one of the show authors, new babies leave no time to write stories.  But this didn't prevent me from being a part of the evening!  I'd had an idea noodling around in my head about a bit of performance art I wanted to try and our one year anniversary seemed like the perfect time to do it.  Gracie was kind enough to record and post it.  Here it is, but blogger minimizes the resolution.  I recommend that you click it and go directly to youtube so you can watch it sloppy HD glory! 

Oh, and as a side note.  I'm aware that I've fallen behind on the blog.  A newborn will do that to you.  But she's a month old now, no more excuses, you should start to see regular posts from me again.  Starting with this one!

Cult Fiction: Unholy Sacrifices

Here it is!  Our FOURTH show!  This time around we offer up four stories guaranteed to appease your appetite for darkness.

• Just A Little Head - By Michael Penkas
• Figure Eight - By Brendan Detzner
• Threads - By Frank Stascik
• "I'm calling it my damn sacrifice story cuz I'm still working on the title" - By Eric Cherry  (obviously Eric will rectify this post-haste!)

A set of fantastic actors will be under our morbid spotlights bringing these chilling tales to some sort of unnatural life. 

Our intermission show are the hysterically eerie, Neally and DJ DigDug performing their nerdcore rap hits Zombie Girlfriend, In Transylvania, and more!  Check out their site and get yourself some serious nerd downloads.

Neally and DJ DigDug

 We're also adding another fun element to the show this time.  An unsettling and inhuman trans-formative piece of performance art by Jude Mire.  We guarantee it's like nothing you've ever seen live!  Just how shallow is your humanity?

The evening will wrap up with indoor S'mores at the bar, drinks, and a party, all behind the backdrop of a musical jam session provided by Art Galt's Widow!  Yes, you heard me, we've got TWO musical acts this time!

DJ 3rik will be around to fill any and all sound gaps with audio awesomeness.  Lauren will be pouring heavy from behind the bar, talking you into that one extra shot you really need.  Trust her, she's a professional!

Writers, actors, musicians, performers, terror, booze, and S'MORES!  

For $5 bucks.  Be there.  The cult commands it!

Lucky Number Grill - Upstairs

1931 N. Milwaukee

Doors open at 8:00

First reading starts at 9:00

Goes until we get kicked out around 2:00

How To Kickstart Taletown Even If You're Poor!

So we've launched our Kickstarter project!  You can find it here

TaleTown: A Facebook game for Readers

I know a lot of people are struggling with money these days.  I know everyone won't be able to pledge.  But do you want to know how you help the project even if you're too poor to donate?  Here's how.

1. Don't just go to the page, search us.  This is the EASIEST thing you can do to help.  Go to Google.com and type in Kickstarter Taletown.  We come up as the #1 project.  Click it.  That's it.  If you want to help more, go to Kickstarter, type Taletown into their search.  Click it.  That's it.  How is this helping?  Kickstarter tracks where people are coming in from.  People searching for the project will cause them to Feature us.  Being featured is a massive boost in exposure.  This is one you can do repeatedly to help!
   
   
2. Up in the top right corner of the TaleTown Kickstarter page is a little "Remind Me" button and a field for putting in your email.  You can put in your email and click it!  It shoots you an email when we update and when it's close to the end of our 90 day run.  The more people we have click it, the higher the project ranks in popularity!  These updates only clutter your email box about once a week till June, not too inconvenient really, plus, you might actually want to see what we're up to and how it's going!
   
   
3. Leave a comment!  Sign up with Kickstarter super quick and drop a line in the comments tab of the Kickstarter page (not here in my blog, I'd like that, but it's not fantastically helpful).  It can be something positive, what you think of the video, even a question about the game.  We'll answer.  More comments helps a LOT.
   
   
4. Share the link.  Of course, this one is pretty self explanatory.  I don't know everyone you know.  They only way they'd ever hear about it is if you share it.  And not just one time.  Maybe once every week or two while the proposal is up.  Don't spam anyone, but once in a while, as we have more updates, would really help.  Everyone loves choose your own adventure stories and you never know what friends of yours are secretly addicted to Facebook games!
    
5. Get revenge on that annoying person who keeps sending you Farmville requests by telling them about us!  Shoot them an individual message with the link and let them know what we're up to.  Our game has lots of the same elements, so they'd probably like it, but also includes real rewards and a much cooler quest system.
   
   
6. Lastly, you could pledge a buck.  It seems insignificant but Kickstarter will prioritize this project over the next 90 days based on several factors.  How many people are pledging weighs more heavily than the amount of money pledged.  At this point, 100 single dollar pledges are more useful than one 100 dollar pledge (obviously, if you can do more that helps too).  So it may seem stupid, but it's not.  It's ridiculously helpful, especially early!  I know you've gotta setup an Amazon to do it, but hey, that's free and useful to have.

That's it for now.  There are other, more invasive and time consuming ways for you to help out if you'd like, but these are the quickest and easiest and will help us make this project a reality.  If you do want to help more, just shoot me a message!

What do I think of Blade Runner Sequel/Prequels?

So, checking out movie news today and I found THIS.  You don't have to read the whole thing, I'll summarize; Alcon Entertainment is in the final stages of negotiating the rights to make a prequel/sequel to Blade Runner.

I'm one of the biggest Blade Runner fans you'll ever meet (where do you think my daughter Rachel got her name?) and I've gotta say... screw this.  Seriously.

I've known this was going to happen for a long time.  The Idea Mines in Hollywood are made up of all the old movies we treasure (and some we don't).  If it's liked, enjoyed, or watched by a group of people bigger than fits in a bus, they'll remake/prequel/re-imagine or spin off it.  Considering Blade Runner has been held as one of the most visually influential films of all time, this isn't surprising.

They've written novels set in the Blade Runner world.  They aren't that good.  They've made Blade Runner video games.  They were pretty dull.  They even made a movie with Kurt Russel supposedly set in the Blade Runner world (Soldier). I didn't think it was as bad as critics said, but it certainly wasn't great. Sure, these products weren't absolute crap, but in every single case I'm left with the feeling that they would have been better if they'd just gone and done their own thing (Soldier did mostly, the connection to Blade Runner is tenuous at best, utterly unnecessary.)  None of it was really worth it.

I don't always mind remakes.  There are some damn fine remakes out there I actually like more than originals (I'm looking at you Night of the Living Dead).  A good remake captures the spirit of the original, updates the quality, and has different subtleties on account of the actors.  It's a different take on the same story, but essentially, (unless they fuck it up like they often do) it's the same story.

Prequels?  Sequels?  Spin offs?  These are all new stories, new ideas, new plots forced to graft themselves onto old plots and squeeze into old settings.  Some movies and stories lend themselves to this.  Indiana Jones or anything comic book based, sure.  They're made to just keep going and going.  Blade Runner wasn't.

I wish there were a Voight Kampf test for bad Hollywood ideas to they could be "retired".

 It's so complicated the themes and content have been argued for decades.  It's complete.  I don't want more in the Blade Runner world.  I know enough.  When I want Blade Runner I'll watch it.  Does anyone really think they'd even come close to the spirit, intelligence, and innovation of the original?  I don't need to see some damn "That'll work!" idea shit out by a money grubbing film company splashed over with CGI effects and some jackass running around talking about the characters that are too old to actually be in the movie.

Well, too bad Blade Runner, you survived sequel-ing a lot longer than Alien, 2001, and Predator.

If we're lucky this project will die in pre-production.

P.S. If anyone wants to start an argument over whether or not Deckard is a Replicant; he's not, but I love discussing it!

Image Inspired Mini Story #14

When the Hound of a Thousand Faces chose to be born on Callis Four he knew he would not live long.  The body was small, female, and he felt colder than the last one.  He had his saffron acolytes bring him a sweater and went out onto the balcony.

"Where is it now?"

"It is over a city called Var Hammen, South and West, several thousand miles.  It kills everything it passes."

"I did not ask what it was doing.  I asked where it was."

The bald monk, number 38,705, fell prostrate before the him within her.  The Hound ignored the adulation.

"What attempts have been made against the Shayde?"

"Viral, nuclear, cryofission, vortian, and... psychic."

The Hound laughed, surprised by the musical sound in his throat.  "Psychic?  Really?"

"We are dying Master.  We felt that no avenue of possibility should be neglected."

"You wasted your time."  Chastised, the monk held his index fingers along his nose.

"All glory to the Eternal Hunter, I bow before the wisdom of your multitude.  Truly, you are the Stars Salvation."

"Lead me to the hangar.  I want to finish this quickly."

His worshipers were prompt and thorough.  Their serial numbers were low; they'd been doing this a long time.  The vessel was properly outfitted, bristling with antennae, glistening with sensors.  He and the monk entered and they flickered into the sky like a tin grasshopper.  The ocean blurred beneath them.  Mountains sprung from the water.  Beyond, the darkness of the Living Storm.

"Timeless One, I beg intrusion upon a few seconds of your limitless existence to speak with you, here in the moments before the end of my finite consciousness."

"Sure."

"I consider it the highest honor that I might bring you here, knowing I will die with you.  The sacrifice is little knowing that you will save my people.  I go to my fate gladly, with pride in my heart I can scarcely contain."

The Hound clicked some switches.  Instruments swiveled and they dove toward the burning maelstrom.

"Save your people?  Yeah, no.  Your planet is going to die.  Probably the next few planets as well, until I get enough readings to figure this thing out."

38,705 blinked.  "But, you're the Immortal Light of Heaven..."  Lightening lanced out and licked the ship, rocking everything.  "The Stars Salvation..."  A panel burst into flames.

"Look, I really am busy here."

The Monk slumped down into his seat.  The windows displayed a swirling mash of fire, stone, and electricity.  Something metal ripped off the ship and careened into the gale.

"You will remember me?  That I was here with you?" Asked the monk.

The Hound didn't look up from his readings.

"Yeah.  Sure."
____________________________________________________

TaleTown Kickstarter Video Wrap

So, tonight we're shooting the last scene of our Kickstarter video for the TaleTown project!  TaleTown Project?  Kickstarter video?  Huh?

Explanations may be in order.  Remember that post a few weeks ago where I mentioned that I had a programmer and we were planning on creating a Facebook game?  How I mentioned it was going to be consuming a big chunk of my life?  It is.  Ravenously.  But it's going fantastically.  We've brought Jiba Anderson in on the project as lead art director.  He's already finished character designs (you'll see them in a week or so).  Andrew Janssen has been programming like a fiend.  We can already access the game and upload art into it.  Now, mind you, this is bare bones.  It's just a series of options and buttons, nothing that resembles a game yet.  But it's bones.  Everything grows from that.

While working on this we discovered Kickstarter.  Kickstarter is a fund-raising website where you put up a video, explain your project, establish a reward structure for donations, and hope to raise money for whatever it is you're working on.  It's crazy hot right now for small projects, like this, to find grass roots funding.  You should check it out. 

We're doing this project regardless of whether or not we get paid for it, but funding would be nice.  Since Andrew has more programming on the front, we decided it would be worth pausing some of Jiba and my work to put effort into funding.  So about three weeks ago I called up Gracie Hagen and talked her into doing our promo movie.  I wrote a script and tonight we finish shooting!  By mid-week she'll have it edited.  With any luck our Kickstarter proposal will be up by next Friday.

The video is only a minute or two long.  It's structured like a Choose Your Own Adventure sort of thing where the pages of a book turn and lead to different scenes.  Jiba and I got to play ourselves, post-alien-invasion-resistance-fighters (pictured above), and pork-n-bean deprived homeless bums!  Also, since Andrew is in Indiana, we used a stand-in wearing an Andrew mask in every scene.  We didn't want him to feel left out.  Tonight, we get to live large and look like successful debutantes!  Of course I ended the script with a celebratory party!  We'll do our wrap and final shoot all at once.  How's that for efficiency?

I'll keep you posted as soon as it's up and online!

Morbid Suit Podcast

The first Cult Fiction event we ran back in June 2010 was called Papers and Skin.  All of the stories had something to do with skin in one way or another.  My story was called Morbid Suit and was read by the lovely and talented Michelle Shupe.  We recorded the event.  If you didn't make it out to the show, at long last, you can hear my story!  Just click the link to hear it in your browser.  If you like, you can right click it and Save Link As... to download the MP3 and listen to it at your leisure.  Enjoy!

Click Here to Listen to Morbid Suit 

My Wife's Alien Pod Belly

Today we will celebrate my wife's Alien Pod Belly by having a great big party!  Being the progressive Alien Queen Mother that she is, Jill didn't want a traditional sort of baby shower (although the image of raining babies caused her to giggle).  We decided instead to throw a regular sort of party instead, that way all us gents could come and splash our testosterone around.  Jill needs it.  If she gets any more estrogen her massive belly is going to take over her body.  This thing is huge!  Seriously, she looks like she could fit an adult howler monkey in there, or a couple chickens, maybe 47 hamsters.  If I hadn't seen the ultrasound of our little bundle of joy myself I'd be worried.

So we're headed to Yuca Cafe, across the street from the frame shop, to marvel at the girth of it all and have one big party before our little girl comes into the world.  Yes, if you didn't know, I'm having another girl.  This is no shock.  I've had three sisters and already have two daughters.  Obviously my fate is to be surrounded by women.  I'm not going to complain about this.  Women are pretty great!  Besides, I knew a guy who's fate was to be surrounded by mosquitoes.  Way worse.

I'd just like to say a few things about this baby before she squirts out.  I've had several friends look at all I'm doing (frame shop, game designing, writing, etc...) and sort of shake their heads in wonder at the fact that Jill and I are tossing a baby into this insane mix.  I'd have to be crazy right?  I mean, all that extra work that babies produce!  How the hell could I possibly manage this?

Well, I'm going to fill you all in on one of the secrets of life itself.

The things you love energize you.

That's it.  Pure and simple.  Sure, babies create work, but they also produce drive, motivation, and happiness.  Their positive output is greater than the effort of wiping their asses.  Everyone knows that doing a job you hate takes twice as long as doing a job you love.  I love being my own boss and working at the frame shop.  I love working with a talented team of people on this game project.  I love work-shopping with other authors.  I love raising kids.

At this point in my life, I'm barely doing anything I don't enjoy or feel good about.  Sure, I'm as poor as a toad and that annoys the crap out of me.  But that won't last forever.  And meanwhile, I'm thrilled that I'm going to be getting another little energy battery.

Just as soon as she bursts forth from the Alien Queen.

February Beast - Vinterbugs

As I walked the streets of Chicago during the recent "Snowpocalype" blizzard I encountered a most unsettling occurrence.  Now, I am not one to avoid the more dangerous or strange elements of life.  Certainly, I have a regard for my own well being and attempt not to place myself in intentional risk, but I am also possessed of a wild spirit that seeks adventure and exploration.  That said, I often find myself in the weird circumstance that accompanies dark woods at night, lonely abandoned structures, and the stony embrace of the underworld.  I do not cringe from shadows.

Such being the case, against my expectant wife's protests, I set forth into the great Chicago Blizzard of 2011.  The date should have been warning enough for me!  Alas, I was caught up in the bluster and forgot my numerology.  Regardless, what is done, is done, and I am here to tell of it.  The greater part of my walk was uneventful, if you consider scouring winds and dervish snow to be of little import.  I found it quite exhilarating, at first.  But then I became aware of the noise.

It was a strange buzzing, like a swarm of bees.  At first, I thought it was electrical.  It sounded very much like a strained transformer.  But I quickly discarded the idea.  The storm had knocked out the power.  The whole section of city I had wandered into was swathed in darkness.  The noise seemed to be coming from an alley.  I deduced that it must be the wind passing over some arrangement of materials such to create the sound; an accidental instrument.  If only that had been true.

I never did see them, only the body they left.  It was like watching a snowdrift melt in accelerated film to reveal a pile of tiny bones.  Now, I was not so unwise as to inspect them in detail, but I am fairly certain (from personal past experience) that they were the remains of rats.  Upon viewing this windswept visage a spark of memory lit within my head.  I quickly returned home and for the remainder of the evening.

What had been brought to memory was a passage I'd once read about an American missionary in the fifties named Carl Mosender.  Mr.Mosender was in the Costa Rican jungle working with an international team when he was bitten by a venomous spider.  It was not fatal, but left him feverish.  During his recovery one of the other volunteers, a man from Greenland, watched over him.  Mosender recounts how the man told him he should be thankful.  That the insects of the tropics, even with their deadly poisons, are far less dangerous than the Vinterbugs of his native land.  It was this that stuck in my head.  So I did a little digging and I can hardly recount the things I found.

The number to times that skeletal remains are discovered following heavy snowfalls is startlingly high.  Even more so the number of skeletons found in the spring, and not all of them animal.  Most evidence of flesh eating Vinterbugs (an idea I would have found impossible myself) is circumstantial, with few notable exceptions.  One of the most relevant I will briefly describe for you.

In 1987 Jonathan Sendilig was involved in a cross country dog sled race across Alaska.  There was a snowstorm and he never arrived at his destination.  Rescue teams were sent out and discovered the sled, rigging, and skeletons of Mr.Sendilig and all of his dogs.  Mr.Sendilig was still dressed fully in his winter gear.  Clenched between the teeth of his skull, stuck to his molars, were the insect remains of what appeared to be albino cockroaches, the South American winged variety.

Do I put much credence to this type of story?  Perhaps, if I had not seen the snow scurry off the bones of those rats with such purpose, such direction, I would not.  But I have, and such personal knowledge binds me to, in the name of caution, warn you.  Take care in the snow friends!  If you hear icy wings, the cold buzz of the swarm, do not discount these noises you hear as natural, lest it be your bones they find in the snow!

The Curse - Ressurected!

Today I get a message from my friend Bill:

"I've done something terrible!  

I need to talk to you right now!  

But not over any computer!"

My first thought:

"Crap.  He's killed a hooker."

I could only have been so lucky.  Helping a buddy dispose of a body would have been better news.  No, it's much worse than that.

Back in the day I had a computer.  Now, knowing what I do, I hesitate to even call it a computer.  It was more of a supernatural entity, a malefic being brought into my world to sow chaos and disruption.  It began as a 386.  A what?  A 386.  That's the kind of processor it had, the nervous system of the beast.  When I got it, I loved it.  You see, I'd just upgraded from a typewriter.  A shitty typewriter.  This computer, the ability to run Word Perfect (there was no number behind it, there was only one writing program and it was Word Perfect), was going to pave my way to author celebrity.  Little did I know...

Six months until it started randomly shutting off, deleting things, being a general pain in the ass.  It was concluded; it's weak, it needs more power.  We upgraded to 486.  It didn't help.  Motherboard fried four months later, needed more Ram.  More files lost.  I began to suspect something was amiss when it gobbled up a new Pentium (they were so shiny!) and laughed at me digitally.  This fiend masquerading in circuitry was being a real dick.  It was clearly cursed.

Bill and I named it Dicko and then we tried to kill it.

We threw it away, trashed the whole thing, got it a new body, Pentium 2, and moved the hard drive over.  Little did we know, the hard drive is Dicko's cold heart.  My video card died in weeks.  Problems persisted.  More writing, gobbled up, lost for eternity.  There were more upgrades, more attempts, all failures.  Eventually, it was decided, no component that had ever been connected to Dicko in any way could be used.  We tore it apart.  We spread the pieces.  We splashed them with holy water. 

Years pass.  My writing actually starts to take off.  And then, this message.

I get Bill on the phone, all the while wondering how I can get a wood chipper and large quantities of bleach out to Colorado and still manage my other projects, pregnant wife, frame shop, etc...

"I found Dicko."

I think my heart stopped.

"I hooked it up to my laptop.  

It's Dicko."

Clearly the demon has possessed Bill, drilled his nefarious wires into his skull.  He actually connected it to the Internet?  I would have rather heard that Skynet was real!  At least Skynet had an agenda.  Dicko is pure unadulterated chaos, destruction, and frustration.

If the beast really has taken over Bill I'm going to have to do something about it.  Soon.  Before it's too late.  For all our sakes.  He's one of my best and oldest friends, but, for the good of humanity, I just might have to put aside my feelings and take action.  With him out of the way I might be able send that infernal hard drive back to the pit of hell (assuming it hasn't grown limbs and laser eyes).

We'll see how this turns out.  I'll keep you posted! 

Snowpocalypse Stroll

So, fortified by a few White Russians I decided to go out and take a walk around midnight during the big Snowpocalypse.  I didn't have much battery so I wasn't able get much, but here's what I managed.  All you folks in Chicago already saw this firsthand but I figured I'd post this for all those people I know living in warmer climates.  Also, maybe it will get them to finally stop whining about 40 degree weather.  Unlikely, but maybe.

Tonight's the Night!

Okay!  Tonight is the night for our third Cult Fiction show; The Dark Hunt.  I gotta say I'm really digging how everything for this show is just falling into place and it's shaping up to be a hell of a night!  All these people who are helping pull this off are amazing, seriously amazing.

You see, I've got this vision, where we get people from every form of the arts and just smash them all together into this awesome creativity collective.  Sure, Cult Fiction is horror themed.  I love horror.  Horror makes for fun exciting shows.  But that's not the heart of it.  The heart of these shows is bringing everyone together.  Us authors tend to be solo acts.  We don't typically get to play with the other arts.  I'm tired of that.  Cult Fiction is the remedy.  Authors, Actors, Musicians, Dancers, Artists, Filmmakers (yes, I totally want indy films in this thing eventually, short plays, performance art, etc...), and Techies.  Yes, computer geekery, sound guys, web guys, etc... is an art in my book.  I sure can't do it.

So far, it seems to be working.  Tonight we'll really get a taste of it and I'm really stoked.  I don't think I'm alone.  People really like the idea of being a part of some giant cross-art event and the more folks who like it, the more we can hit this thing from different angles in the future.  Oh, am I talking about the future and we haven't even had this show yet?  Of course I am.  You know me.

See you tonight people!  Happy Hunting!

Image Inspired Mini Story #13

“Steph.  Wake up.  I think I hear something.”

Stephanie didn’t open her eyes and let out a long sigh.  “Of course you hear things.”

Eric sat up, letting a rush of cool air into the sleeping bag.  Steph shuddered.  “Will you cut it out?  You’re giving me goosebumps.”

“No, really.  I heard something.”  Steph sunk deeper into the bag, seeking warmth.

“Yep, that happens.”

Eric lowered his voice.  “I think it’s outside the tent.”

Stephanie didn't attempt to conceal her annoyance.  “Well where else would all the nature be?  Unless it’s inside the tent, I wouldn't worry about it.”

“I saw this show on cable about teenagers who would sneak around the woods, looking for campers.  When they found a tent they’d sneak up and circle it and then just beat the shit out of it with bats and sticks.  I heard some noises like that, lots of things around us.”

Stephanie laughed.  “So you think we’re surrounded by maladjusted youth?”

“Don’t joke, Steph.  People die that way.”

She shifted to her side, turning away from him.  “No, no they don’t.”

“I saw it on…”

“Doesn’t happen.  Now let me sleep already.”

He didn’t speak.  He flopped back next to her, clearly dissatisfied.  Outside the wind blew through the trees, slowly rustled the tent as if it were breathing.  The crickets and cicadas buzzed in waves, rising and falling with a rhythm louder than a city.  Stephanie started to drift off when Eric sat up again.

“What if it’s a bear?”

Her temper flared.  “Godamn it, Eric. Enough!”

“I heard a bunch of them.  It could more than one.”

“There aren’t any bears!”

“How do you know that?”

“Because we’re in central Illinois!  There are no bears!  No mountain lions!  No wolves!  Nothing!”

“But…” Stephanie cut his protest off before he could voice it.

“No! No more! There is nothing to be afraid of! The biggest things in this forest are deer! Big-assed, grass-munching, stupid herd animal, fucking harmless deer!”

________________________________________

Cult Fiction: The Dark Hunt Show Schedule

Here it is!  Our third Cult Fiction show!  This one brings you more creepy goodness than you can shake a tentacle at!  We've got horror stories!  We've got awesome actors reading!  There's a sexy mid-show burlesque!  There's a not quite as sexy but still equally awesome band playing after the stories!  There's freaking S'mores!  Facebook event details "here".  Spread the invite!

• 8:00 - Doors Open, DJ 3RIC starts in with the atmosphere.

• 8:30 - Act One Begins
•  The Rites of Passage:   A hunter stalks strange prey at the end the world.  
• Written by Mike Martinez
• Read by Christopher Skyles.
• Halfway to Shore: A search reveals a terrible punishment for the future.
• Written by Michael Penkas
• Read by C.S.E.Cooney
• Inhabitant: Some real estate is better left un-sold.
• Written by Jude W. Mire
• Read by Kalina "Kitten" McCreery

• Mini Intermission: S'mores and Booze!
  
• 9:15 - MiaMorte provides amazing transforming werewolf burlesque!
  
• Mini Intermission: Booze and S'mores!
  
• 9:30 - Act Two Begins
• Blue Eyes: A feral lust takes a dangerous turn.
•  Written by Brendan Detzner
• Read by Kiersten Thomsen

• Menders Bounty: The cost of health care just got deadly.
• Written by Eric Cherry
• Read by Amanda Eaton

• Intermission: Last chance at the S'mores, Lauren pours more drinks, and DJ 3RIC sets the tone.
  
• 10:30 - Art Galt's Widow take the stage by force and play until their fingers bleed!  Or, maybe they just go on stage and play until they finish.  Be there and find out!

There you have it!  All this for five measly bucks!  Not even nice crisp ones.  We're not picky.  We're good with measly ones.  See you there horror fans!

Long live the cult!

Carmilla Preview!

So Jill and I got to sneak into the prescreening(?) of Camilla last night thanks to Sara "Oh my god my vampire teeth are huge" Gorsky!

Okay, so anyone who knows me knows how much I like vampires; not much.  In fact, not really at all.  I'm tired of them. I'm tired that they've turned into people and aren't really monsters.  I'm tired of keeping track of different mythologies and types.  I'm not a fan.  When DO I like my vampires?  Well, that's simple.  When they're monstrous.  When they kill, feed, and only vaguely recall what it was like to be human.

Carmilla, and all the vampires in the play, are my kind of vampire!  They range from downright feral to wicked seductive, but it's clear, their main goal is to feed, to kill.  They might get conflicted a bit about whether or not they want someone to join them in this endeavor, but they are what they are, monsters.  I heartily approve.  Some of the story might seem to be made up of known elements, until you realize this story predates Dracula by a quarter century.  Carmilla is one of the primary roots of this giant wicked tree we call vampirism.  Plus, it's got lesbians, something fantastically risque for the time it was written.

Michaela looking awesome after snacking on Brittany

Everyone did a GREAT job with the acting.  I know more than half the cast but it didn't distract at all.  I am constantly amazed by these people's ability to breath life into fiction.  Both Michaela and Sara pulled off sexy/terrifying amazingly!  From Scott's hunchback to Brian's German General, everyone was awesome!

Now, I MUST give props to the production value.  This is the most gorgeous looking WildClaw production yet.  The set is dynamic and interesting, the mood is totally atmospheric, costumes are spot on, and Paul knocked the lighting out of the park.  Seriously, I think half of the tone was carried by the eerie shadows and colors in the lighting.  Really cool.

Oh, and blood.  They've got plenty off it, spattered around.

If you're reading this you're likely a friend of mine.  You should go see this.  It's playing for like a month. Here's a link to Wildclaws site and their preview trailer.

http://www.wildclawtheater.com/

The Ol' Drawing Board

No, I've not gone insane and started scribbling on the walls.  I put up paper, see?  Requires forethought.  I'm not entirely mad yet.  What is it?  Why (barring lunacy) would I do such a thing?

Lets take a step back before I tell you what it is.  Back to last year, the months before we opened up the frame shop.  We knew we were getting a bit of cash and we wanted to invest it into a business venture.  We kicked around several, but in the end, opening up a "flesh and blood" retail location seemed like the best route to go.  So far it's been every bit as difficult as they say opening a new business is; but it's working.  Slowly but surely, Forte' is building a customer base and we just might make it.  It was a good decision.

One of the ideas that had got left on the cutting room floor for a couple reasons; 1st - We needed a programmer for it and programmers/web-guys are notoriously flaky and difficult to work with and 2nd - They're expensive.  Now, while we could have afforded #2, the existence of #1 was a pretty big factor in going with an idea we could control all on our own.

So a couple weeks ago I touched base with an old friend.  Coincidentally the best programmer I've ever met and he's actually reliable.  As a result he's always been in demand, off on other projects, and wasn't in the running for consideration.  Well, guess what?  He's got a chunk of time on his hands, likes the idea, and we're working on it.  The whole thing is a great big green light and is poised to swallow a giant percent of my life.  This is good.  This will make some money and will help keep the frame shop floating until we're established in the neighborhood.

So what the hell is it?

It's a game.  Of course it's a game.  I'm a game designer!  You'll be able to play it.  For free.  Online.  Soon.  Beta within a month or two hopefully.

So that's the good news!  I should really go get back to it.  Lots and lots to do.  I'll keep you posted as things develop and there's more to share.

January Beastie - The Bathe

The Ecology of The Bathe

I was once told the story of an unfortunate fellow who found a strange pebble, shaped such that it gave the impression of a man curled up into a fetal position.  It was no larger than a coin.  According to him, when he held the stone for too long, his palm began to bleed.  Miraculously, the liquid was absorbed by the rock, like a sponge.  Alarmed, he brought the curiosity to a university professor he knew and showed him the process again.  Several times he repeated this, trying to find explanations from geologists and naturists.  He noticed that the stone was getting larger, until it was nearly the size of a tropical coconut.  Shortly thereafter the man was found dead in his home, entirely exsanguinated!  In addition to this horror, over the next few weeks several more people were found in the same state.

This evidence leads me to believe that what the man had found was no ordinary stone, but was, in fact, a Bathe.  No one knows the origins of the Bathe.  They are monsters of old, perhaps demons (if they are, then they are corporeal, there is no spiritual aspect to the Bathe), or possibly another species (most certainly parasitic if this is the case).

A Bathe is a creature with a life cycle governed by hydration, more specifically, blood hydration.  They must regularly wash their bodies in blood, absorb it into themselves, to obtain a near human form.  Yes!  These fiends can take upon them our visage if they’re lubricated enough by our own vital fluids!  With a lack of such sustenance they shrivel, harden, and eventually shrink into a small, dense stone, awaiting the unhappy chance that someone might stumble upon them and provide what they need.

Make no mistake though, while the Bathe may, through osmosis, obtain the outward appearance of humanity, inside, they are anything but.  These creatures require no organs like normal men and can grow foul appendages within the hollows of their bodies.  They will appear human so they can hunt with ease, but when threatened their bodies can erupt the most disturbing limbs to ensure their defense; tentacles, pincers, and claws!

There is little known about how to kill such a beast besides depriving it of blood.  It will eventually revert to its stony prison.  In this state, perhaps, they may be crushed and ground to dust (although I fear even that may survive with ample amounts of blood).

Do not assume in cases of blood draining that the vampire is the culprit!  We must never forget that blood draining is not the sole perview of such fiends.  There is more darkness in the shadows than we know.

Image Inspired Mini Story #12

My father, my dead father, was so reviled that even the ghosts would not tend to his corpse.

I’d hauled what was left of his body to the pier myself and chained it securely in thick necklace chain.  I sacrificed a grackle and used its blood to adorn him.  Seven stumpy candles were lit with the birds feathers.  I ate the feet.  The ghosts came.  They had to.  The dead cannot ignore a summons done propper.

But they would not touch his body.  I sat in the funeral barge and argued with them.  Tried to convince them to carry him over.  They would not.  I ignored the sailors on the dock.  Broad shouldered spitting men who agreed with the dead; my father deserved no peace for what he’d done.

The ghosts melted into the night.  Once the sailors saw that there would be no redemtion, they too, faded into the dark.  I was alone in the gently rocking boat with two mangled corpses; one family, one fowl.

I looked down at the man.  His features were clear, even beneath the cuts and bruises.  No amount of stones could crush a visage like his.  It was too strong, too determined.  It was too much like my face.

A cold wind tossed my hair as I cast the line.  I raised the umbrella sail and, carried by the chill, we headed into the choppy sea.

“You do not deserve this.” I said.

At my feet, my fathers broken face smiled.

 _________________________________________

Found this image by an artist on Deviant art, Pepachan.
Check out their stuff here.

Image Inspired Mini Story #11

“It looks like it might rain. Are you sure this is a good idea right now?”

“You’re not made of sugar.”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I want to get soaked though.” As if to prove her point, a low growl of thunder rolled in the distance.

“That’s nowhere near here, we won’t get more than a drizzle. Besides, there’s plenty of cover if we need it. C’mon.”

Clara watched as Wayne Warrow strode through the amusement park gates without hesitation. He would go without her, she knew, so she hurried after him.

“It hardly looks open.”

“It hardly is.”

The fall air was heavy with moisture, cold, and windless. They cast no shadows. No, that wasn’t quite true. Everything was in shadow and theirs were swallowed before they hit the pavement. The carnival music was a dull underwater thing distorted by repetition, crummy speakers, and untrimmed bushes. Any people they passed were going in the opposite direction, hands sunk in their pockets for warmth. Wayne ignored them.

Clara wanted to ask if he was sure they needed to do this, but didn’t. Every time the words came close to escaping her lips she stopped. She knew what he would say. She knew he was right. It was hope that they’d made a mistake that kept welling up. It wasn’t something she should nurture. Not now.

They rounded a bend in the walkway, moving away from the carousel. All of the ice cream booths had been closed for the year and the food stands for the night. In the trees above them hung dozens of dark lanterns. None of them cast light. They looked like decorations, old decorations. Something the park had once run, but over time had given up on changing bulbs; a remnant of something dead and long gone. Clara knew better.

“This spot will work.” Wayne stopped walking and offered her his hand.

She didn’t hate Wayne. Not really. But she was tired of him. Of his correct hunches, his clipped tone, and his arrogance. She wasn’t impressed with the zigzag double W of his signature anymore. She was numb to his good looks. Mostly, she was upset because she knew he was tired of her too, and somewhere, it stung. She consoled herself that he likely felt the same sad ache and took his hand.

Wayne raised his voice and spoke with more formality than required. “By the authority of the Wardens I command you to show yourselves!”

Clara didn’t say anything, just added her will to his. The words were really a formality. Nothing in the prison had ears to hear. Their effort proved sufficient. One by one the lanterns began to glow with an amber luminescence as the inhabitants made themselves known. In less than a minute all of the old lanterns were painting the trees a sickly rust color. Clara felt it on her skin through her coat.

“I don’t see anything. Maybe I was wrong.” Doubt from Wayne was normally something to savor, but not this time. Not when so much was at stake.

“No,” she said, pointing to single dark box. “You weren’t. Something has escaped.”

__________________________________

It's been too long since I did one of these. Sorry for the wait. I love this image and I've tried to figure out where that Ferris wheel is; no luck.

Image Inspired Mini Story #10

Robert Loting held his coffee cupped in shaking hands. They were big hands, washed clean, but they looked bloody. They had no skin on the knuckles. The coffee was heavily sugared, dark, with no cream. Officer Brighton entered the room followed by another man.

“Hey Bob, sorry about the wait. How you doing?” Robert managed a smile for a moment before the absurdity of ever being happy again slapped it from his face.

“I’m here.”

“Good, good Bob. This is the sketch artist I was telling you about, Neal. You think you’re up to talking to him?”

Robert nodded. Neal reached out his hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Robert released his coffee long enough to shake. “So how does this work?”

“Well, I give you and Neal some privacy. He asks you some questions, you watch what he draws, give him input, and you go from there. Don’t worry about rushing this. You just do your best; take your time. If you need anything, you remember where my desk is right? Just down the hall.”

Robert nodded. “He’s going to think I’m crazy.”

“Now, Bob…”

Neal interrupted. “Mr.Loting, I’m not here to judge. I’m just here to draw.”

Officer Brighton nodded. “You just describe what you saw, we’ll worry about the rest later. Deal?”

Robert mumbled around his coffee. “Deal.”

The door to the small room shut and left the two men alone. Neal opened up a case, set out several pens and a large notepad. He sat down.

“So tell me about her.”

Robert flinched. “I thought I was going to describe… to describe… him… it.”

Neal picked up a charcoal pencil. “Not yet. Lets loosen you up a little. How long were you together?”

Robert clung to his coffee. “Four years.”

“Married?”

“No. She was divorced. Said that being married ruined everything. She didn’t want to do it again.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“She was too reasonable sometimes. Practical, you know? Had her feet grounded in reality. She never would have believed…”

Neal started sketching. “She was attractive?”

“What… well, yeah, I thought so. She was a health nut, ridiculously thin. Not everybody was into how she looked, so brittle. I loved it. I liked thinking she was fragile.”

“Her hair?”

“Short. You know, modern girl.”

Neither man looked at one another. Neal sketched quickly and Robert watched a bubble skirt the lip of his coffee like a child clinging to the edge of a pool.

“How did you meet her?”

“A party.”

“Did you two go to a lot of parties?”

“Yeah, we did. She went to more. She’s more, what’s the other –verted? Not introverted, like inside, the other one.”

“Extroverted.”

“Yeah, extroverted. I always forget that one. It reminds me of a bug. Like exoskeleton.”

“So she was out a lot.”

“Yeah. I used to think she was a social butterfly, but after a while, I just couldn’t see her that way. She was just a fly, going from one shit party to another.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“Fuck man, how do you think? I just wanted to be with her and she was never in the right spot.”

“That must have been difficult.”

Robert shook his head. Took a long drink of coffee. “No, not really. I loved her, you know. Her head was all fucked up. Like there was a tangle of crossed phone lines, nothing really making sense. You can love someone even if they’re messed up you know.”

“I know.”

“You can love people through just about anything.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“What can’t you love them through?”

Robert set down the empty coffee cup. He leaned over and rubbed his eyes with a thumb. “When they crush your spirit. When they do that, then you’ve got nothing left to love with. You can’t help anybody when they’ve broken your soul’s bones and it can’t fly anymore, let alone carry them. When that happens, it’s over. Then you’re both gone.”

Neal put down his pencil, pushed his chair back from the table.

“I’ve heard enough. I think we’re done here.”

“But I haven’t described it yet! The thing that killed her! We were just talking about Alice. What the hell were you drawing?”

Neal closed the notepad and stood. “Don’t worry about it Bob. I think I’ve got a good enough sketch.”

________________________

This sketch is from a guy named Alan Campbell and more of his art can be found at http://emohoc.deviantart.com/ He mostly does model photography and photoshop composites of girls. But hey, this is a nice little deviation that I enjoyed quite a bit!