Tag Archives: author

Dire Times = Dire Changes

by in The Chronicles of Urth: Blestemul and tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

So…Blestmeul ran wild last night.

I was just putzin’ along, writin’ my shit, and low and behold, the story threw me a curve. Not me, the story itself. In this situation, one of the main characters, Kone? He makes a very big decision that ultimately effects how the story will run. It’s strange sometimes how that happens.

Well, I don’t want to tell you what he did of course. It’ll fuck up the book if you ever want to read it. But I changed him completely all the same. Due to an event that I won’t disclose, Kone went from being partially cybernetic to almost completely all robot. That’s not all, either. He got a shit ton of military grade robotics and upgrades to make him a more efficient man-machine (I’ll post concept art detailing this in the near future). I’m not sure why I did that, to be honest. The story just…took a left turn.

This isn’t the first time its happened in this story. Originally, Kone wasn’t even a character. He came in to help progress the plot early in the book. I built him on a whim, and then added dimension as needed. No, he was supposed to forge a greater relationship with Alistar as time passed. I wanted them to be in each other’s pockets, but that might not be the case right now.

Turns out, Spek, my Groar character? He took over. His life force and personality in the story completely overshadowed Kone, and I simply ran with it. Now now, I’m not ditching Kone. I just found his purpose, and his purpose is not what I expected. The only relationship that is headed in the original direction I intended was with Jala and Alistar. Blestemul isn’t even the same anymore.

See, that’s why I don’t like to plan too much. I don’t like to have the whole story piece by piece, bit by bit laid out for me. If I start sticking to a well crafted plan I’ve made for myself, the writing turns to shit. I mean it too. Unreadable, even by friends or family. My mind is too obsessive and frantic to follow a plan. Does that make me better? No. But it does…force me to think in a different way. Special? No. Unique? I like to think so.

Anyway, this whole entry was on sudden changes if you’re playing the shitty home game. Sometimes, a story just doesn’t go the way you want it to. But that doesn’t mean that you no longer have a story. You simply have a new one. Everyone is so afraid of change, I feel. Especially writers. That’s why I don’t identify with that crowd.

Sometimes, a sudden turn in what seems to be the wrong direction can be the best godamn thing you can do for whatever piece of art you’re working on. Fuck, it can be the best thing for just living your life! Don’t be afraid if your novel is going in a place you don’t like, or understand straight away. Let it run! And if it still turns out shitty?

Just write another one.

Writing and the Mind- Getting Back on Track

by in The Chronicles of Urth: Blestemul and tagged , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Finding the strength to write is like gripping sand.

Dragging myself out of the brine of complacency, I have lied to myself as to where I need to be, and what I need to do. The mind is a terrible thing. Not to waste, but a terrible thing. I have imagined and seen things in my mind’s eye that have irrevocably changed how I think. By a little bit. Every day. Completely changing, over and over again. That’s how all minds work. Not just mine. I’m not unique there.

I’ve been writing again. Who knows why the flow slows? Who knows why my stomach drops when I think about slamming down a few more words outta a keyboard? I don’t know. And I’ve spent too much time in my life trying to figure out a final reason, a final truth. It might as well be a holy grail for Christsake. Unattainable. Impossible. Unreachable. The mind is too complex for me, or for anyone else to fully understand.

I’ve discovered that forcing myself to write just a little bit begins the flow again. I haven’t been able to write for hours in a long time, but I can feel the inspiration coming. It happens like this every time I write a novel; I reach a point where I’m goin’ through the motions, and then I come back full force. I can feel it. It’s there. As for drawing and art, there isn’t much left now. Concept art for Blestemul I mean. In case you couldn’t tell, I’ve been clutching and clawing for exposure through posting pictures. Simply because the content of my blog has been shit lately.

Time to get back on track. I’ve written over 200 pages in this new book, and I’ll I’ve been doing is pissin’ and moanin’ about how hard writing is when I should be doing the thing I created this fuckin’ blog for. So here we go.

As of right now, I’ve been trying to develop character connections through difficult experiences and trust loops. Along with this, I’ve been changing my main character, twisting him into something the reader might not like. But I always have a plan when it comes to something like this. I won’t disappoint.

As for the beginning of the novel, it starts out simply enough. An alcoholic, washed-up “soldier” eeks out a living on some godforsaken shit hill town when an opportunity to redeem himself in the eyes of himself presents itself. Alistar, the main character, has given himself up to the demon, Blestemul, his symbiotic demon-pistol. Stuck inside his head, the demon goads, supports, and torments him as he strikes back at those who have held him down, and are continuing to destroy other peoples’ lives in plain view, under the guise of innocent righteousness.

I also tried to break stereotypes in this book. I created races that seem more bestial, but I developed them like any other “human” character. They have personalities, they wear clothes, cologne, they have opinions, jokes, likes, dislikes, loss and gain. It shows that a good person is a good person, and one can transcend any ignorance with a little effort.

Right now, one friend of Alistar’s, Kone, is missing. One recovered after a traumatic event that she (Jala) shared with AListar, and Spek is now looking for Kone inside of a primordial and very dangerous swamp. They are close to reaching the location of their main objective, and then the book should take off with aggression and grace.

That’s where I am. Now you know, and now I’ve said it. Wrote it. And I feel better. I’m giving you the writing you deserve to read. Am I god’s gift to the written word? NO. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have to try. Thanks for reading and sticking with my fury. I won’t disappoint you. I promise.

Weapons- Lots and Lots of Weapons

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Imaginary worlds allow one to create anything.

That’s why I like writing the most. Fuck the whole writing for an audience thing- I might aw well be masturbating at this point. I like makin’ shit up and then having it work in a world that will never be. My own fantasies coming to life, could it get any better? Of course it could, but for me it’s pretty close to a perfect hobby.

Anyway, before I delete that last paragraph, I wanted to touch down on weapons. I like weapons. A lot. And more than liking weapons, I enjoy creating my own. I’ve always had a fascination with things that can kill. I don’t know why. I don’t hunt, fish, or do other activities that put animals directly in harm’s way. But I do like violence, and I do like bad people getting what they deserve, so I guess weapons always have, and always will, hold a special place in my thundering heart.

Here’s some pictures of shit I made up:

WeaponConcepts3_TCoUBlestemul

These sketches are some mixed concepts. I included a Fundament assault rifle (they’re the main baddies in the book) along with some Incub technologies. Incubs have one eye, so I tried to develop a weapon that would cater to that. Larger rifles would have a stock that one would put against the chest, and stare down the sight without being able to blink. The harmonic knife is a weird one…I’m not sure how it works but it disrupts atoms, literally shaking them apart to create horrific wounds when used on soft targets. Here’s another slab ‘o art:

WeaponConcepts4_TCoUBlestemul

These weapons are almost ALL of Incub design. The two worth noting are the plasma hook and the longshot at the bottom. The plasma hook is a lofty idea- you could generate an arc of plasmatic energy that moves like a boomerang (without returning to you) and explodes with tremendous violence upon impact. As for how it would work, I have no idea. The longshot at the bottom is basically the most accurate projectile weapon on Urth. As long as its sight/scope is calibrated properly, the shot will literally go wherever the crosshair/bead is. Only operator error can alter the shot. More shit:

WeaponConcepts5_TCoUBlestemul

These are all Groar weapons. Heavy, artistic, and functional, these weapons personify what being a Groar means. Their version of a pistol weighs forty pounds, and uses a projectile that pierces through tough armor, and then shatters into stages all along the soft and doughy insides of their target.

Well, that about does it for today. I’m tired and bored of boring you. Take a look at my shit, leave a comment, all that good crap. Bye-bye.

 

Stepping Forward in Shit

by in Thoughts with a Sharp Tongue and tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Life can be a real sour cunt, you know that?

I’ll warn you now. I’m gonna bitch and moan and have meaningful insight all in this motherfucker, so if you’re bored already, stop reading. Still here? What’s wrong with you? Anyway, the world will shit on you, disappoint you, wear you out and fuck you up. And it’s not just big things. You’d be surprised how often a little bump in the path can totally throw someone off the deep edge. Definitely a “straw that broke the camel’s back” situation. These past few weeks have been very tough for many people. Saying that, these last few decades have been very rough for some people. Many people, so as much as I want to bitch and moan about how annoying my life can be, I don’t. I don’t because there are others out there that would love to have my life.

Am I grateful? Sometimes. Sometimes I just want to smash anyone that looks at me cockeyed. Other times, I want to set myself ablaze and stand unflinching in a shopping mall, never screaming as people watch in horror as I amble towards them. Sometimes I want to be feared. Hated. Respected. Powerful. I feel my fists clench, my jaw tighten, and my patience wear thin, and a familiar burning resentment towards others that I envy boils up from my core, spills over, and all I want to do is shit all over the world and watch it burn down with me.

Looking for a positive turnaround paragraph? Nope. Not here. I guess you could say that this is a more…jaded and cynical part of my life, or more accurately, week. Usually edged with sarcasm to fake my own intelligence, but let’s just say what this shit boils down to. Jealousy. I am jealous. Competitive. I always have been. I don’t mind if my wife talks to other men. Kisses them, hugs them, fuck even flirts with them. Because I trust her. But every drop of testosterone I own in this haggard carcass surges right from my balls and into my brain when I see someone else trying to make a move on her. I am jealous of others that have more than me, have less than me (by choice), are smarter than me, stronger than me, all sorts of stupid mortal-based petty bullshit that now as I write, feels like angsty emo horseshit. Perhaps I need to save me from myself while I cut myself to feel because I’ve been asleep so long that I need someone to save me.

Or perhaps this is just a rough patch, and I need to get over myself and be happy for what I have, and what I can create. Anger and frustration are a part of life, and I certainly don’t help my situation with personality. I hide behind a wall of sarcasm and faux intelligence to hide what I am: Jealous, angry, and resentful. Secretive and obsessive. Hateful. Intense. And at times? Ignorant.

Do I want pity? Fuck no. What do I want? Fuck if I know. Or no. Don’t care. Most of the time. Sometimes?

Help Create a Character: Spek

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Hello all.

Okay, so I’m in a place in my book where my characters are really starting to take shape and develop personalities other than the ones I’ve given them, and usually as I write, I like to create how they would look in my head. Until now, I’ve only posted sketches and rough ideas for any characters that I’ve created, but I’d like to get some input from someone other than myself (because my ideas may suck for all I know) in order to help make this book a reality. I’m going to post some concept art of a character that I’ve introduced in the book- Spek. He’s a Groar male that is dedicated to the assimilation of Groar culture regardless of societal differences.  He is like a lot of Groars- quick to anger, quick to help, quick to forgive, violent. But he is refined, intelligent, generous, kind, and noble. If you look below, you’ll see some of the concepts that I’ve been throwing around for him. Once you’re done with that, I have another favor to ask.

Okay, so that’s what I have. Not so good. That favor that I was asking you for- tell me how you think he would look based on the feel you get from his role in the story. Here are some excerpts of his lines from TCoU: Blestemul.

1. “One screeched and ran forward. Spek clenched his jaw and stepped to the side, dodging the first swipe with the creature’s machete. A huge strike with Spek’s right claw nearly ripped the creature’s jaw off. It fell, and Spek slammed his foot into its stomach, make his foe fly backwards into the swamp. He heard the monster smash into a tree and fall silent.”

2. ““Looking at your surroundings, reading enemy minds, feeding you intel. You’ll have to do everything else though. Spek tightened his grip on the totem sledge. “That’s fine.” His eyes stopped glowing, the light falling into the dark pools of gleaming tar.”

3. “Me? I educate tribals. It’s a personal endeavor of mine, I want my people to be united or at least understanding of one another. City Groars are accepting of different senitents, but tribals are isolated, and scared. All tribals are good people, they’re just misinformed about the outside world.” Spek clapped a hand on the chief’s shoulder. The Chief held a smile back, his eyes giving way to blue. Other Groars followed suit.”

I know a lot of this is outta context, so if you have questions, lemmie know. If this thing goes well, I’ll do it for all my characters. I think it would be pretty godamn terrific if I I got some help developing characters, and I would love to hear your suggestions and ideas. Please, tell me what you think! Help me make a good character.

Deletion as a Freeing Edit Move

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I delete massive pieces of my work quite often.

I look back at what I wrote, and I find myself disgusted with my mediocrity. The way I remedy this is by removing myself from the piece and looking at it like I wasn’t its creator. I just wrote several pages of TCoU:B, and I realized they were all shit. I was bored reading them, and I was bored writing them. I was anxious to continue to the next part because I had set up the next part so well, but instead, I used a cheap cliffhanger trick that thousands of authors/writers (same?) use before me.

FUCK cliffhangers.

I deleted the shitty reading device and spat on its fuckin’ grave. I liquidated the filth from my body of work and watched it swirl the toilet bowl where shit belongs. I’m delving right back in where I want to be. Fuck, I figured if I as an author hated the cliffhanger I wrote, how would you feel if you read it? Undermined. Betrayed. Patronized. Belittled. Sometimes, delete. Don’t worry about rewriting, don’t worry about any of that shit. If something is garbage, throw it the FUCK out. Don’t give it a second chance. It’ll start to rot and stink, clouded and putrefying all the good writing you have done, and will do.

Anyway, the crew are headed to the story’s next scene, and they encounter a being that. Well. Why should I tell you?

I’ll post concept art of this being during the next post. As for plot details, I never reveal what I’m writing. I’ll always post concept art, how I arrived at certain conclusions or characters, but I don’t divulge anything else. I’m trying to decide if this practice is narcissistic, or ritualistic.

I’m tired of my own voice in my head so I’m gonna shut the fuck up now.

I AM A PUBLISHED AUTHOR MOTHERFUCKER

by in Geneslave and tagged , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

YES.

I did it. I fuckin’ did it. Geneslave is now available for a delicious 2.99 dollar price tag in the vast wonders of Kindlespace. I just uploaded the bastard now (04 June 2012: 16:47hrs), so it won’t be available for about 12-24 hours or so, but who cares? I got over the bullshit in my head, and I published my fuckin’ book!

I am not bragging. I am just ecstatic.

If you decide to buy my book, you will roughly pay 0.000025 cents a word. I did the math, bitch! Honestly? I don’t care if I make five fuckin’ dollars on this sonfabitch, it’s published, and I did it without the help of a formal, tangible copy publishing house, literary agent, independent editor, or lawyer. It’s copyrighted, protected, and READY to FUCKIN’ GO. Open your Kindle, and search for Geneslave. That’s it. You can also go on Amazon.com to purchase as well. AND you can get a muthafuckin’ KINDLE APP to read this bastard. Do it however you want!

In case you haven’t noticed yet, this isn’t about the money. Never was. Money is icing. This was me conquering the literary industry, and spitting in the faces of those who would shun my book because I didn’t have a shiny award, or because I didn’t know someone on the inside. And this isn’t just a victory for me! Oh no. This is a victory for real writers like me EVERYWHERE that has faced the same problems I have. The best part was it was EASY to upload this bastard! Easy! Formatting it was hard as Hell, but getting on Kindle was a cinch!

If you’re ready to publish, click this link. Once you set up an account to publish your book with Kindle, you just fill out a simple form and upload yer shit! It’s like starting up an e-mail account. I love it. I give a step by step guide on formatting and getting your book ready for Kindle in the archives of my blog if you need it by the way.

With that said, YOU. You can do this. You, the writer, the artist, the creative one, you can do this dammit, you can do this, and you can do this well! Get published! There is no more reasons as to why you can’t anymore. Your fate, no, a writer’s fate, is now something that can be controlled by the writer, like it should be. Start writing that masterpiece! Start formatting and publishing that manuscript that some ass sniffing literary agent wouldn’t accept. Publish that book that the publishing house wouldn’t print. Get out there and fucking write you ass off, and tell the whole goddamn world that I AM A WRITER, AND I EXIST.

It’s time to join the revolution.

Progress on Kindle and Concept Art

by in The Chronicles of Urth: Blestemul and tagged , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

I’m back. Great vacation- got some good time with the lovely wife and some good times at a massive theme park. Enough of that, let’s get into the shit right away.

Before  post concept art, I want to tell you all something. I bit the progress bullet, stopped being a whiny bitch, and opened my Kindle account for selling my books. If you’re at this stage, you can click on this link. It was painless, and now? I can start uploading m’shit. And you’ll all be the first ones to know when I do. Setting up a Kindle publishing account is easy as fuck. It’s just like setting up an e-mail account. Also, make sure you have your social security card ready, too.

Alright, with that exciting (for me at least) announcement out of the way, I wanted to continue with the explanation of plasmatic weapons in TCoU:Blestemul. While I was forty thousand feet in the fuckin’ air, I came up with some pretty solid diagrams as to how actual rifle would look. The first picture (the one below) is an outdated version of what the weapon would look like. However, its parts are all current. You see, in Urth, there are bizarre new elements formed after the cataclysm. These elements allowed the technology for such energy weapons to exist (I will cover ALL the elements I “invented” in a later entry). Enough. Here’s the art:

These are the basic parts to what a standard E.A. rifle would look like. I didn’t think the look of the weapon felt right, though. It looked too…primitive. Too…fragile. Basic. I mean, pick an adjective it just don’look right. So, I tweaked it and came up with a final concept for a basic E.A. weapon found all over Urth. Take a look at this shit:

Much better. Here, I detailed the furniture of the weapon rather than the actual internal mechanisms n’ shit. A protruding barrel didn’t make any sense to me, along with a defined seating for the weapon’s guts. So, I made an all inclusive model that keeps everything contained, controlled, and monitored. I made it look more futuristic (for lack of a better term) to satisfy any sci-fi tech cravings I had at the time. I also included some specs on the weapon itself, like rate of fire, projectile effective range, and so-on.

Honestly? I’ve been trying to develop a competent weapon like this since I was 12. I am 26 now. Only recently did I find the real science and facts I needed to mutate and bend to my will. It ain’t easy being inside my head, and I don’t say that because I think I’m special or unique. I say that because I have O.C.D., or Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Ideas, worries, thoughts, they are always smashing around in my skull, and the urge to constantly improve my fiction and make the ideas I present inside my work as plausible causes me to create something like this. Sometimes, I think talent is just another word for obsession. Do I consider myself talented? No. I’ve always seen myself as someone that loves the creative process so much, that I can’t stop doing it. Is that talent? Okay then. I’m talented. But I think a more appropriate term would be obsessed.

Alright then, another post down. I want FEEDBACK. You. Fucking. Tools. Speak up! Good and bad critique (as long as its constructive) will be read, considered, and responded to. Don’t be silent. Tell me I suck, or tell me I’m awesome, as long as you have an actual path of reasoning behind your opinion, I will not ignore it.

Destiny

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Whoo! I feel much better.

I am still wrestling with my demons, but for once, I’m starting to feel like I can actually win. I am writing again, and in my heart, I’m just not ready to pull Geneslave’s trigger. It’s not a fear of rejection, it’s not dejection, it’s just…I’m not ready. I should be. And I push myself to be, but sometimes, I just can’t do it. Laziness? The process is confusing to get it ready, but I must do it. Before this month is out, it will be done. I must also remember that I’m not the only one that this blog affects. I am under NO delusions that my words are read by MILLIONS, but I am sure that by writing and helping myself out, I can help other people out too. Even if I help one person, help them write and publish, I’ll feel some satisfaction.

That sounds so fuckin’ cliche and caked with cheap, processed word cheese.

What the fuck ever, I meant it. Any-the fuck-way, I’m done moping and whining and clutching my own dick like a fuckin’ stuffed animal. I’m writing in Blestemul again, and the words are starting to flow more evenly now thank Christ. I feel more and more comfortable with pushing Geneslave forward, too. I just gotta sit down, and start the process one day. But when I think about it, my gut drops and my heart shoots a gout of frost through my veins. THIS is irony, ladies and gentlemen, straight outta the Gift of the fuckin’ Magi by the Henry.

I start a site that cuts through all the bullshit of the publishing industry, and I wind up standing in my own way to get published. Well. At least I’m recognizing it and wanting to correct it. I worked too hard to Geneslave for it not to be shared. And it’s not just my work that I’m talking about. YOU have worked too hard on your own projects to let them sit and fester. Push forward. Don’t let yourself stand in your way like I am. And if you’re where I am at right now, I’ll be there for you, this blog will be there for you, everyone that reads it will be there for you, too. And at the risk of sounding mushy but fuck it, I have to remember that all these things are there for me, too.

Fuck you contentment. You’re the bane of personal development.

Anger, Shame, and Pain

by in Thoughts with a Sharp Tongue and tagged , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Problems lately.

An excuse. A pathetic one nonetheless. Pain and shame are probably the two greatest motivating factors in my life, and I have had to deal with this up close and personally many times. I’ve been struggling with my writing for some time now. More than writer’s block, it is a will to fail that is pushing me down. I talk a LOT of shit on publishing companies, editors, agents, printers, everyone in the literary industry. But my biggest obstacle is, and always will be, myself.

I don’t want to complete my book.

I want to sit and look at it, disgusted at my own inability to complete and move forward. I get engrossed in side projects, blame my life outside of my book, fuckin’ name it. I want to rest on soiled laurels reeking of the past and my incredible ignorance. No matter who may fuck around with you in your life, you’ll always be standing in your own way. Always. You will find things out about yourself, you will change, you will die, you will be born, you will wish for death, pray for slaughter, everything. Meat is weak, will is strength.

—Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength—

SAY IT. Repeat it in your head over and over, like a terrible mantra, a hideous, bloody mantra that drives itself deeper into your fucking brain until all that you are is infected and taken over by your mind. You body cannot exist without your mind, your soul, your will. Your soul can. Meat is weak.

I’ve been focusing too much on the fuckin’ meat. We’re all just shuffling bags of greasy beef, trying to live our meager lives. Meager, untilWE change them. I’ve had several rude awakenings in the last few weeks, and they’re all burning on my mind like a clothes iron, just waitin’ to come out the other side. I am ashamed of my own weakness and vulnerability. This brings anger, and finally, pain. I am furious with myself right now. I hate what I have started to let myself become, and now I’m on the road to change. My will is my power, and I am not allowing the meat to take over and make me weak.

Beat your body. Beat it up. Make it beg for you to stop, and then tell your mind to keep on going. You rlungs will burn, your muscles will cramp, your bones will crack, your eyes will rupture, your brain will liquefy, your blood with turn into thick ash and YOUR WILL IS ALL YOU WILL EVER HAVE. I WILL NOT LET MY MEAT PREVENT ME FROM WRITING MY BOOK. PUBLISHING. SELLING.

FEED. YOUR. WILL.

Your meat is already dead.