Writer's Block

Man, have I got it bad.

I've been sitting here (off and on) since 10:00 this morning and I just can't figure it out. I've tried everything I can think of to get the juices flowing and I find myself rewriting the same handful of scenes over and over.

I feel lost is this story.
A screenplay I've been trying to crack for two months. Before that I did what every good writer should - an outline. But there were holes. And contradictions. And other problems. Still I pushed on with a first draft. Again it was crude, disjointed and downright terrible in places but I said, (as I so often do), 'I'll just keep going, get to the end and then start a new draft' So that's what I did.

Now here I am. Trying to figure out a story I would so love to tell. But it's so fucking frustrating. I go away, come back, change up the scenery, and at best I move forward an inch or two. The next day, any progress I made seems like it no longer works - or, I guess, never did. I told myself today I would write one complete scene. Any scene. But I haven't been able to. The day is young, mind you. But why does it have to be so hard?

I don't know if this makes any sense, cuz even my blog writing feels shitty but I had to do something. Write something. So here I am.



Anybody got any words of wisdom on the subject?

Right now I would so love to hear some.

D.A.

What Am I Reading?

I just finished a phenomenal book I had to come on here and share. It's called "Kockroach" and its the debut novel from Tyler Knox, (not sure if that's a pen name, but it's pretty catchy). I picked up this book on something of a whim for a very good price at my local Indigo. Not only was I attracted to the cool cover art, I was also intrigued by the Kafka-esqe premise of a cockroach who wakes up one day as a man.
I've mentioned here before how I'm working on a series of stand-alone pulp novels, which collectively tell a larger, more existential story. The series is called The Mantra and I've only just recently finished my first draft of Book #2, entitled Impetus. Anyway, Kockroach, while nothing like Impetus in terms of plot, takes place in the world of American Existential Pulp, a genre aptly coined by Mr. Knox himself. At the end of the book, there's an entertaining Q&A with the author in which he cites various inspirations and influences for the book--the Kafka story, Metamorphasis, being the most apparent. Also, there's a brief essay on the genre of American Existential Pulp, (AEP), which I found truly facinating. I might add, The sensational 100 Bullets series of graphic novels to his already-extensive list of classic and contemporary works. If you haven't heard of it, I highly recommend it. But start from issue one, otherwise you're robbing yourself of a truly rich storytelling experience.
I've been searching for a more succint way to pitch my other The Mantra book, Minutemark, and AEP fits to a tee. Thank you, Tyler Knox.

Check out Tyler Knox's website at www.kochroach.com for more info

D.A.

Canadian Voices - Press Release

Just wanted to offer an update on Canadian Voices, Volume Two, the anothology of poetry and prose in which I will be featured in less than a month. I just recieved the official Bookland Press press release. The PDF is a whole lot fancier but I can't quite figure out how to post that so here's all the info, including all 90-something authors, page count, retail price, and more. The book lauch is September 20th, from 6:30 to 9:30 pm at the Supermarket Art Bar in downtown Toronto. Hope you'll check it out.


MEDIA RELEASE

Canadian Voices is a powerful
and moving collection of prose
and poetry, which stretches
across the boundaries of age,
skin color, language, ethnicity,
and religion to give voice to
the lives and experiences of
ordinary Canadians. This
vibrant, varied sampler of the
Canadian literary scene
captures timely personal and
cultural challenges, and
ultimately shares subtle
insight and compassion
written by a wide spectrum of
stylistically and culturally
diverse authors.
Canadian Voices is more than
simply an anthology — it is a
celebration of wonderful
writing by some of today's
finest emerging Canadian
writers. This book is an ambitious,
lasting, and meaningful
work of literature that will not
soon fade away. It is an exceptional
reading experience to be
enjoyed and savoured.


CanadianVoices, Volume Two
An Anthology of Prose and Poetry by Emerging Canadian Writers

PARTICIPATING AUTHORS

PROSE

Valerie Albemarle
Dahn Batchelor
Sharon Bernas
Mayank Bhatt
Jessica Borges
Alison E. Bruce
Mary A. Bryant
Silene Bumbaca
Altug Cakmakci
Jack Caulfield
Shaheena Choudhury
Christina Clapperton
L. J. Clark
Dayle Cleveland
Cassandra Cronenberg Hunter
Juliet Davy
Susan Desveaux
Heather Dick
Sally Dillon
Michael Robert Dyet
Fran Edelstein
Jude Paul Fernandes
Frances Frommer
Marilyn Garshowitz
Jefferson Guzman
John R. Hewson
Steven Jacklin
Manny Johal
Fatmatta Kanu
Donna Kirk
Enxhi Kondi
Mary Ellen Koroscil
Karen Lam
Peter Lisinski
John Maar
Victoria E. MacDonald
David Mandel
Maria Pia Marchelletta
Louis Massey
Corinne Cast McCorkle
Cassie McDaniel
Braz Menezes
Michelle Monteiro
Yoko Morgenstern
Diksha Pal Narayan
Peta-Gaye Nash
Gord Pannell
Brandon Pitts
Waheed Rabbani
Elana Rae
Elizabeth Carina Ramos
Anu Rao
Larry Rodness
Philomena Saldanha
Mel Sarnese
Suzanne Schmidt
Steven H. Stern
Phyllis Diller Stewart
Urve Tamberg
R. G. Thompson
Linda Torney
David Tucker
Edwin Vasan
Herb Ware
Joyce Wayne
Saniya Zahid
Karol Zelazny
Zohra Zoberi


POETRY

John Ambury
Elizabeth Barnes
Kathleen Burke
Maurus Cappa
Dolores B. Carfagnini
Jasmine D’Costa
Josie Di Sciascio-Andrews
Emily Dunn
Iddie Fourka
Mary Craig Gardner
Zita Hinson
Jasmine Jackman
David Kimel
Ashley Maniw
Jatin Naik
Deena Kara Shaffer
Sheila Tucker
Sarah Zahid


BOOKLAND PRESS, TORONTO
BOOKLAND PRESS
6021 YONGE STREET, SUITE 1010, TORONTO, ON M2M 3W2
TEL: (800) 535-1774, WWW.BOOKLANDPRESS.COM
EMAIL: BOOKS@BOOKLANDPRESS.COM
ISBN: 978-0-9784395-8-3, BookLand Press, 360 pages, $25.95

How to plan your ACTION

July 29, 2010
Volume VI, Issue 3
In This Issue
A Note from Miata
Feature Article: "Grabbing the Reins"
Abundance Bound Recommends: "Artist's Prosperity 101"

________________

Note From Miata:

Have you ever been horseback riding?

I ask because my 8 year old daughter is attending a day camp this summer where she is learning how to ride a horse. I'm thrilled because, truthfully, I haven't had the best experiences with horses. When I was about her age I went away to camp and during my very first riding lesson, I promptly fell off and broke my arm.

Now, of course, I don't want my daughter to be afraid like I was. After her first few lessons, I cautiously asked her, "So sweetheart, how do you like horseback riding?"

"I love it," she answered.

"The horses are so big," I said. "How do you get them to do what you want?"

She looked at me, and with the wisdom (and attitude) that only an 8 year old can manage, replied. "It's easy Mama. You just grab the reins."

I'll tell you that the simplicity of her answer made me smile. It also made me consider how often in our lives we think that situations are too big for us or beyond our control when, really, we just need to "grab the reins." We need to create some order and structure, develop a plan, and get whatever help and guidance required to turn the situation in the direction that serves us best. I realized that much of the work I do could be described as helping my fellow artists learn to grab the reins when it comes to their finances. How often does money feel like the "big bad horse" in your life, at every moment threatening to rear up and knock you off the saddle?

Starting this month, our next few articles and blog posts will focus on giving you some simple action steps that when applied, will help you start to walk, trot, canter and even gallop down the path to financial stability and confidence. Happy riding! :)

As always,

Wishing you happiness and prosperity!

Miata

Follow me on Twitter
Friend me on Facebook
___________________________________________________________________________

Feature Article
"Grabbing the Reins"

You've decided it's time to take control of your money. Bills keep piling up, creditors incessantly call, and now you know it's time to start. Sound familiar? You aren't alone. Over fifty percent of Americans have some credit card debt. The housing crisis still isn't over. The unemployment percentage hovers around double-digits. Many of us need to grab the reins and find a plan.

Where to begin, though? How do you start turning pennies into dollars, and dollars into ten dollar bills? Here's step number one:

Let's get the word out the the way. The dirty "b" word.

Budget.

Yuck. A budget feels like work, doesn't it? It's nails on the chalkboard. It's the singer missing the high note. A budget seems like hours sitting over a spreadsheet, tracking every box of macaroni and cheese, every stick of gum, every coffee.

No thanks.

I don't like that type of budget either, so let's change the terminology. You need to change the language to change the behavior. I'll propose a new approach. We should start with the job you're trying to complete. You're trying to practice well with your money so you have funds when you need it. We should use a phrase that conjures up the image of taking control, practicing great habits, and achieving your dream.

Instead of a budget, let's talk about a money plan.

Much like a play well performed or a song well played, I like the practice that makes a money plan perfect. Simply put, a good money plan creates successful money performance. It creates the standing ovation from your wallet that you're looking for when you practice and perform well. There isn't room here to detail the entire plan, but here are some important steps:

1) Write out how much money you earn in a month. Be conservative. You'll need to be able to live through those tough months when money isn't coming in.

2) List the expenses you can't live without. Financial planners call these "committed expenses." We'll call them rent or mortgage, basic groceries, utilities, and costs associated with your work, among others.

3) Now write those expenses you can live without, but currently enjoy. Financial planners call these "discretionary expenses," but we'll just call them gifts, cable television, eating out, and other "lifestyle" expenses.

Now here's the fun part. Before we subtract your expenses from income, it makes sense to see if either of these areas can be improved, doesn't it? Here are some questions to ask yourself, to see if you may be able to save some money.

1) Are there ways to improve my income? I never know the answer when I ask a client this question, but, surprisingly, nearly everyone says "yes, I can." Everyone has a variety of thoughts on how they could earn more money. But before grabbing the first income-generating opportunity, ask yourself a more important question: "Is the way I earn more money going to detract from my artistic potential?" If so, search harder for ways to earn dollars that are congruent with your life goals. Don't create a money plan which is detrimental to your life plan.

2) Are there ways to lower my expenses? Most people begin by cutting discretionary expenses, such as coffee or ice-cream. Generally, this isn't the first place professionals look, because although there might be a few opportunities to save a dollar here, the large savings is nearly always in the committed expenses area. Can you somehow change your rent or mortgage situation? Are there opportunities to lower utility expenses? Do you need both the land line and cell phone? How often do you watch cable television? Comb through each expense and ask yourself if there is a method to lower some costs without damaging your lifestyle.

Once you've examined both income and expenses it's time to do some basic math. Subtract your expenses from your income. Hopefully, there's money left over. If not, it's time to really sharpen the pencil and ask hard questions about income and expenses. If so, you're well on your way to working your money plan. Stay tuned to our website for that topic in a couple weeks!

©2010 Abundance Bound, Inc.

WANT TO USE THIS ARTICLE IN YOUR EZINE OR WEB SITE? You can, as long as you include this complete blurb with it: Abundance Bound was created to support actors, artists and creative professionals in the development of financial stability and independence. To learn how to begin the journey towards prosperity, register for the free resources available at www.AbundanceBound.com

WANT TO SEE MORE ARTICLES LIKE THIS ONE? See our Blog.
___________________________________________________________________________

About Abundance Bound

In providing financial education to actors, artists and creative professionals, Abundance Bound aims to illuminate our community's negative associations with money and translate the once-mystical process of money management into the language and experience of the Artist. All individuals deserve a financial fighting chance, and it is our commitment to employ the most innovative and practical methods to share this knowledge and activate the Artist's creative and financial potential.

You can learn more about Abundance Bound courses, programs and products at www.AbundanceBound.com

Abundance Bound, Inc.
PO Box 46517, Los Angeles, CA 90046
Toll-Free Info: 800.768.0281
info@AbundanceBound.com
___________________________________________________________________________

Abundance Bound Recommends

Artist's Prosperity 101

Continue your progress with a four-week crash course that integrates the fundamentals of the Artist's Prosperity System. Each module consists of audio coaching and worksheets that organize your money systems from the ground up. Instruction is offered in simple, manageable chunks so you can meet your artistic and financial goals without the overwhelm! Gain clarity AND confidence!

Click here to learn more

___________________________________________________________________________

©2010 Abundance Bound, Inc. All rights reserved.

What Am I Reading?

Hidy ho, neighbourino!

I realize June was a little bit thin in the blog department, but I do have a life, you know? -- at least I'm trying to.

Yesterday I completed, (reading, not writing -- I wish), book #11 of what is, in my opinion, one of the best graphic novels of all time, bar-none, "100 Bullets."

For those of you not in the know, "100 Bullets" is an ongoing saga, (now over, though not yet for me), penned by the master crime-noirist, (my term), Brian Azzarello and illustrated by his supremely awesome other half, Eduardo Risso. Honestly, where one ends and the other begins in this Heaven-sent collaboration, I shall never dare speculate.

Book #11, entitled, "Once Upon a Crime", encompasses issues 76-83 of the increasingly complicated saga, (don't come in on this one, newbies, you'll be lost), and sports a killer introduction by none-other than Tom Fontana, (no slouch in his own right). The guy created one of my favourite show of all time, (Oz), along with a little show called Homicide: Life on The Street, not to mention a few others.

The series was always intended to go 100 issues, (or 'bullets'), which means I have only two more culminations to devour before saying goodbye to Agent Graves, Dizzy Cordova, Lono, Loop, Mr. Shepperd, (technically already dead, but still popping up on occasion), and the rest of The Trust and The Minutemen. Boy will that be a sad day.

But I digress.

Book #11 delves deeply into the origins of Mr. Sheppard, who met with an ugly, (and extremely cool), demise a few books back, along with the building showdown between the Minutemen and The Trust, which I've been waiting for since...well, at least Book #4 or 5. Not that I'm complaining. That would be like begrudging a spectacular meal cuz it wasn't the rich creamy desert. Speaking of which, Italian temptress, Echo returns in this installment, looking sexy as ever. I know she's a drawing but this girl makes Jessica Rabbit look like...well, still hot too, but a little on the plain side, if you ask me. I can't wait to see where her and her myterious painting fit in to the final picture. But if I've taken anything away from this masterpice of art, literature and pure pulpy goodness, it's that patience is the name of this game.

And it's one well worth playing.

But be warned, you may get a bit dirty.

D.A.

Mastermind

Greetings gang,

Hope everyone had a good daddy day. Mine was extra special.

It's Monday and I find myself gearing up for another week of writing, pitching and networking like mad. I have to admit, the latter skill has often proved rather a tricky challenge for me in the past. I guess I've just grown accustomed to the solitary pursuit of my career goals and getting out of that habit can be anywhere from mildly disorienting to downright excrutiating.

Perhaps you can relate.

I suppose this percieved weakness in my game has a lot to do with my latest strategy of focussing primarily on creating a mastermind. What is a mastermind, you ask? Well, succinctly, a mastermind consists of two or more people of like-mind working together in harmonious pursuit of a common goal. The key terms here are "like-mind" and "harmonious", without which, one will only find themselves swimming upstream - not a pleasant experience, believe you-me.

The term was originally coined in Napolean Hill's infamous "Think and Grow Rich" and is singled out as the key ingredient to any successful endeavor. If you haven't read it, (or heard of it; where have you been?), I highly recommend you pick up a copy today. There are litterally thousands of different versions floating around out there, all of them very cheap, (and some even free). I like to listen the audio book on my Ipod myself. Here's a link to where you can find it, and tons of other FREE EBOOKS that will blow your mind. www.psitek.net. Seriously, this site is da bomb! (Do people still use that expression?)

Anyway, I've been concentrating pretty hard on obtaining like-minded representation over the last several months for my various works and whatnot. My hope is that a good agent who believes in me and shares my enthusiasm will work on my behalf and afford me some much needed leverage. Makes sense, right? Obviously. But before you can have what you intend, a comprehensive plan to obtain it is a must, followed by continuous, persistence. ACTION, people. Don't forget about action.
So whatever your goals, I strongly urge you to get out there and pursue them with confidence, and hopefully a healthy dose of humility, which goes a long way. Trust me.

Here's a cool video from a pretty cool site, www.abundancebound.com, that's all about the all-important mastermind.

Please cheack it out and let me know what you think.
http://www.theactorslibrary.com/archives/1024

Good look, and happy hunting.

D.A.

Canadian Voices, Volume 2 - Update

Hi all.

A while back I posted about being published. Now, it's nothing big, I'm not going to be on Oprah or anything...I don't think... It's only a small little story I entered way back in February called "The Red Maple Leaf." It's about a young boy pondering the significance of Canada's most prolific symbol, (no, not #99), on the day of his mother's funeral, a soldier killed in Afghanastan. For the past few months I've been corresponding with the publisher, Bookland Press in Toronto, over minor details and now, I've been given a look at the cover, so I thought I'd post it up here and see what y'all think.

Ok, not really. I just wanted to post something, to be honest. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't welcome comment. Hell yeah, I would.

Be seeing ya.

D.A.

Simpsons Roundup!

Okay, let's do this.

I've been meaning to get to this for nearly two weeks now but it just keeps getting pushed back, but NO LONGER! The Simpsons finale had the misfortune of airing the very night of the LOST-ACULAR extravaganza, so I had a bit of a dilema. Ultimately, I decided to record the latter and go with that, which I've gone with for many a season. Not my original intention, but in the moment, I surprised myself.

Have I any regrets?

None at all. Lost was good, but ultimately left me a little underwhelmed, (as did much of season six, which, perhaps I'll get to some other time), and my Simpsons season finale tradition remained intact, very possibly for the last time. Either way, I think I would have perservered. But at the time, it seemed like a difficult choice.


"Judge Me Tender"
05/2310
Season Finale

When Moe discovers a hidden talent for judging contests, he is approached by a television agent to join the AMERICAN IDOL judges' panel. Moe flies to Los Angelos where he tours the Fox lot and recieves some sage career advice. Meanwhile, Homer drives Marge crazy when he begins hanging around the house.


It feels so long ago, I barely remember the finer details on this one. I can remember more than one riff on Fox's other cash cow in previous seasons, (one of them also a finale, if I'm not mistaken), but that one was about Lisa and Homer. This baby was all Moe.

The truth is, I've seen far better episodes, particularly finales, but this one had it's moments. Actually, I find premiers and finales tend to disapoint because they're rarely all that special. I actually prefer the second-to-last episodes of the season. For some reason, they tend to bring more of the goods. Some of you may remember Homerpalooza, followed by a quaint, but good, Lisa episode to cap of season six, (or was it seven? Ah, who cares?)

The guest voices were all there. Two-timer, Simon Cowell, along with the entire American Idol cast did their thang to little or no effect and the story kind of fell into lazy territory during the later acts. There were still some good chuckles, though, don't get me wrong. No doubt, it'll get better with repeat viewings, when all those pesky expectations are forgotten and I can just chill-ax and enjoy a little time with my crew. I should also mention another two-time guest voice, Fox's head-honcho, Rupert Murdoch, who came in for a small cameo at the end. Least he could do, I'd say, for the show that keeps on giving.

Anyway, here's some stuff that stood out for me this first time around.

Flyby: An angelic Ned Flanders flaps skyward.
Bilboard: Krusty’s One Year Sobriety Special has been cancelled;
Chalkboard: "The end of Lost: It was all the dog’s dream.Watch us." (No, that’s not a legit spoiler). This was ironically, a highlight for me.
Couch Gag: Homer and Bart act out a Punch and Judy puppet show; Bart is ‘Punch’, at least until Homer starts strangling him under the stage.

I enjoyed having a, (minor), subplot featuring everybody's favorite pooch, (no, not poochie), Santa's Little Helper, struggling with -caugh- self-esteem issues after Moe insults him. Lisa makes it her mission to raise the dog's spirits, (yes I'm actually typing this). Those two don't usually do much together.

Homer: You never fail to nauseate me boy.
Bart: Just call me Barf Simpson.
Homer: I wanted to, but your mother said kids might tease you.

Homer: You can't close! I'll have to go home and drink better beer at half the price... and natural lighting!

Simon: How do you like LA?
Moe: It's a hell of a city. It's like someone stepped on New York and scraped it off on the beach.

Homer: That was awesome. I feel like the Tiger Woods of sex.

Another gem featured Ralph go on a profanity-laced tirade against Moe, which arugualbly got the biggest laugh of the night.

All in all, a fairly decent episode to cap off what I thought was an above average season. Some really good entries this year. Now come the reruns. Frankly, I'm ok with that. I've been saying for awhile now, The Simpsons needs to rest. Before we know it, though, that season 22 premier will be upon us.

Sleep well, my friends.

D.A.

Simpsons Roundup!

Whooey, it's been awhile.

What can I say, I've been busy. My middle-grade novel, Flotsam, is off to a fantastic start and I hope to have it published sometime in 2011. A lofty goal perhaps, but I feel I've got a solid idea backed by a solid outline and even more solid marketing plan. That's all thanks to my friends at The Institute of Children's Literature, with whom I've been working for the past twenty or so months. It's a great program and I've learned quite a bit about the most lucrative fiction market around - children.

More on that another time. Right now, it's all about...

Whaa! Sideshow Bob! Or is it...?


"The Bob Next Door"
05/16/10
Bart becomes convinced that his new neighbor, Walt, is his archenemy, Sideshow Bob (guest voice Kelsey Grammer), disguised and back for revenge. But when Marge tries to convince Bart otherwise by taking him to visit the state penitentiary, a disturbing truth is revealed."


It's always good to see Bart's old nemesis. No, not Dr. Demento, (although that would be pretty good too). Kelsey Grammar reprises his greatest role, (I know, I know, but I stand by that statement), in this, his one-millionth Simpsons appearance, (or something close). It amazes me they keep coming up with ideas for old Bob, but they do and this one, a take-off of that John Woo classic, "Face/Off," works pretty well.

Everyone is, of course, smitten with their new neighbour, except for Bart, who would know that sultry, sinister voice anywhere, which leads to the best line of the episode: Marge: "A lot of people sound like Sideshow Bob. Like Frasier on Cheers." "Or Frasier on Frasier." "Or Lieutenant Commander Tom Dodge in Down Periscope." That one had me rolling in the aisles.

Bob's plan was refreshingly diabolical as well.
Not only did he go to such lengths as to trade faces with his cell mate, "Why do you keep measuring my face?", he also comes up with a great way to kill Bart without being prosecuted, namely to go to the five corners of Springfield and shoot him in one State, let the bullet hit him in another, have him fall in yet another, and have the police respond in still another State. Taken individually, where's the crime? Moohaahaahaa!

Great to have you back, Bob.

Here are a few other noteable standouts in this, the penultimate episode of The Simpsons, Season 21:

Bart: Mom, can I go?
Marge: Is your room clean?
Bart: No.
Marge: Good, that will give me something to do while you're at the game.

Homer: Aw, nothing is ever boobs or ice cream.

Waitress: All the good men are either gay or have no face.

Also watch for the memorable appearance of Homer's new, new, new neighbour, who moves in after Walt/Bob is shipped back to the big house - Flanders' fast-talking cousin.

Nice touch, guys.

I'll soon be back with my last roundup of the season, plus lots more good stuff, so don't you go surfing around.

Later,

D.A.

Simpsons Round-up!

Man, I've done a lot of these.
I don't know why but I can't seem to churn these out till we're about twenty-four hours away or less from another new one. I think it's new anyway. I'll have to check.

Last Sunday's Mother's Day ep. continued the trend of strong home-stretch outings. Only one or two more left. What really sucks is the finale just so happens to fall on the exact same night of LOST, (dear God, I can't wait!), so I'll have to rearrange my ususal Simpsons-watching tradition. Okay, onto the goodness.

"Moe Letter Blues"
05/09/10
As Mother's Day approaches, Moe narrates an episode in which he writes a letter to Homer, Apu and Reverend Lovejoy, who are vacationing with their children, and threatens to run away with one of their wives. While the trio tries to determine whose wife Moe is referring to, Homer, Lovejoy and Apu flashback to the imtimate moments they inititally ignored between Moe and Marge, Manjula and Helen Lovejoy. But when the boys return from their trip, they're in for the surprise of their lives.


In keeping with season 21's string of firsts, a Mother's Day episode is added to the pantheon. I'm pretty sure this is the first such episode of it's kind, anyway. Perhaps I'm forgetting something. This one was a little out there, which I don't mind, particularly when the last few have been more structured and linear. The narration by Moe seemed like more of a novelty than a story device, but again, there's nothing wrong with a show that's been everywhere and done everthing trying new shit. Thank God there's still new shit to try. I just checked my online source actually and apparently, this story was a loose take-off of the 1949 movie, 'A Letter to Three Wives', so maybe there was some structure in there, after all. Matt Groening has often said one of the show's more affluent inspirations has always been TCM, (Turner Classic Movies). For me too, by the way. Seriosly, that channel's a goldmine.

It was nice to see a few underused faces in the mix. Manjula (not the Jan Hooks version) and Helen Lovejoy. Hell, even Reverand Lovejoy, for that matter, who at least has had a few juicy storylines thrown his way. Also, Mrs. Bouvier, Marge's mom. Glad to see she's still with us, and fiesty as ever. I even caught her talking to her ex, Grampa. Careful, Abe.

Some other stuff I enjoyed was the awesome Itchy and Scratchy silent movie. Perhaps another nod to TCM, the Indian radio station featuring the show, Mahatma or Manotma, The Krusty cruise line, (no doubt, a first-class operation), weasel island, (a great place to get away...and see weasels, lots of'em), Low Blow Boxing and The Zii Dance game, but perhaps the peice de resistance, a guest shot from legendary Price is Right announcer, Don Pardo. You still sound great, Don.

Now for a few funny lines...

Moe: I moved here because on a calculator, the ZIP Code spells "boobs."

Homer: Go ugly up someone else's house, you penis-curling she devils.

Moe: Think of it as a wake-up call from a man with nothin' but a blow-up doll. And even she left me. Shouldn't have used helium.

Manjula: My eyes have more bags than the Darjeeling Limited.
Moe: Hah, that's probably a good one. (That Moe)

Kurt: Milhouse and I are next.
Otto: There's no suspense at your place. Even I hooked up with your old lady. Sorry, kid.
Milhouse: You were my favorite uncle, Uncle Otto.


All in all a fun entry. Onto next week!

D.A.

Simpsons Round-up!

Yes, it's that time again. Time for a r-r-r-round-up! (tryin' something new there, sorry). Gotta say I loved the heck outta last week's episode. Ditto the one before that. This year's shaping up to be pretty strong. Here's the official synop:

"To Surveil With Love"
05/02/10
A bomb squad mistakenly blows up Homer's unattended gym bag, releasing radiation into the city and authorities react by suspending civil liberties. Wiggum and his men install surveillance cameras around Springfield and round up suspected terrorists, inclusing groundskeeper Willie, but when monitoring the nonstop flow of video imagery proves to be too much, Wiggum enlists concerned citizens to help keep the city safe. Meanwhile, Lisa becomes fed up with being blonde so she dyes her hair a dark color.

As I said, a fantastic ep firing on all cylinders.
I thought it had a great story with some truly funny bits. All the stuff about cameras across Springlfield made for very solid satire chock full of biting social commentary. It really felt a lot like The Simpsons of old. I particularly enjoyed the B-story about Lisa going Brunette, (though I never really saw her as blonde; just yellow), and then, of course coming to her level-headed senses. The children's book about 'A Circle in Squaresville' (or something like that) was clever and spot-on. I also dug the bit when Bart found 'the blind spot' with his butt and Homer turned it into a zone of lawlessness. That's my doh-awg!


And now for a few memorable lines:

Mayor Quimby: Is this what the framers of the Constitution would want?
Wally: Well, I'm Wally of Wally's Framers, and this is exactly what I want.

Chief Wiggum: Now, just follow a little formula called PB & J. Peer at the monitor. Be judgmental. And jot it down. One way to remember that is A-B-C. Always Be Considering PB & J. But the single most important rule is the four As. Always Act According to A-B-C.

Queen Elizabeth: I'll miss that Ralph Wiggum. Reminds me of my boy.
Prince Charles: Oh, mummy, my cat's breath smells like cat food.

Principal Skinner: Ralph Wiggum will be standing in for your lectern.
Ralph: I'm a furniture.


Next week it's another new one. I can't remember when there's been this many in one strecch...not that I'm complaining...

Peace out,

D.A.

What Am I Reading? - Today I Am a Man

I suppose I should remame this post, What was I Reading? cuz I finished this one about a month ago already, but I've been meaning to give it a little love ever since, and not just because I'm a friend of the author.

"Today I Am A Man" is a solid first novel by my friend, Larry Rodness, who, as I understand it, has been wrestling with this story in one form or another for many years, first as a screenplay, then a novel. His ability to find a publisher and get it out there is a testament to his hard work, passion and persistence and I, for one, really apreciate that, considering I have a few similar ambitions of my own.

The story is divided, not-quite-evenly, into two perspectives; that of an adult Steve Goldman, (the main character), following a bold decision to dish out a little street justice on his son's fifteen year-old bully - and the other, that of Steve, the young man, a recipient of bullying himself during an adventrous school year in sunny Califoria in the 1960s.
The majority of the story centres on the latter perspective as we learn Steve's sorted history with bullying and the lingering pain that went with it. By the time we get all the details, adult-Steve's motives for protecting his son at any cost are considerably more clear. The title refers, not only to young-Steve's impending Bar-Mitzvah, but also the journey of a thousand steps every boy must endure to discover what it truly is to be a man in this world - namely, taking responsibility for yourself, standing up for what you feel is right, and facing your own problems with dignity and courage.

I found the book to be a solid read with a few neat surprises thrown in. The prose moves quickly and the balance between the two time-periods was well-paced, creating a sense of urgency that kept me reading.

As I write this, Larry is hard at work on the daunting task of selling books. I had the pleasure of attending his book launch at Indigo Books here in Toronto, where he performed a series of selected readings and book signings. Since then, he's done a few more and is actively pursuing write-ups and reviews from around the country and beyond.
Recently, he was reviewed by The Jewish Tribune. You can read it here: http://www.jewishtribune.ca/TribuneV2/index.php/201004202899/First-time-novelist-takes-on-bullies.html

Great job, Larry. Keep up the good work and I'll be waiting to read the next one.

D.A.

Simpsons Round-up!

Yikes, maybe I should change the name of this blog to Simpsons Round-up, huh?

For the record, it is my intention to get back to other posts. I've just been really busy trying to get something going and the Round-up allows me to keep one foot in this blog-o-mine. I've recently started writing information articles for Demand Studios, which produces all sorts of content for sites like eHow, Answerbag and others. I'm still getting a feel for it, as I'm not much for non-fiction, (too disciplined), and the guidelines are pretty strict. I am having fun with it, though. Go figure.

Anyhoo, onto the Round-up:

"The Squirt And The Whale"
04/25/10
The Simpsons decide to embrace a cheaper, alternate source of energy by erecting a wind turbine in their backyard. But when Homer realizes some of the power is being directed to the local electric company, he decides to remove his home from the grid and becomes completely dependent on an unreliable source of power. Meanwhile, a storm erupts, trapping a 150-foot long blue whale ashore, and Lisa and Homer attempt to help the poor creature."


This is the kind of quirky, sweet, off-beat story The Simpsons did so well once upon a time and, in the climate of cynical, angry-disguised-as-hip humor The Simpsons actually had a hand in starting, it's nice to see them attempting to buck the trends by being lighter with more artful and heartfelt sensibilities. Don't get me wrong, I love South Park, (as do Mike Reiss and Al Jean as per this week's chalkboard gag). I also think Seth McFarlane is a talented, funny satirist, (despite certain other's opinions). But The Simpsons at its best is so much more than just mean-spirited parody, and even witty social commentary. It is that perfect blend of humor and heart that makes most forms of storytelling work for me and The Simpsons, to their credit, do not seem to have forgotten. They've just been around a long time and produce a much more varied array of stories.
My point is, I apreciate them standing out from the crowd with a simple, dare I say sweeter story to play off the whole Matt and Trey drama. I doubt that was their intention, per se, but it just reinforced for me why the world may still need The Simpsons.

The opening joke about TIC-TAC-TOE: The Movie was classic as was all the stuff about wind energy up until Lisa discovered the whale, Bluella. It was kind of surprising to see them blow up the whale and I actually believed there would be some explanation after the break - but there wasn't. After the whale died and Homer and Lisa tried to save it's mate, I felt they were going for something a little more serious, which threw me in a good way. I'm always delighted to see this show get back to the art of storytelling. Did everything work? Probably not, but as I say over and over on these roundups, most episodes iron out their wrinkles with repeat viewings. I've little doubt this one will live up to that premise.

Here's some other good stuff from the ep:

- The chalk board gag, which read: "South Park--we'd stand beside you if we weren't so scared." (Nicely done)

- Ralph Wiggum's "Kid-power" and Barney's "Burp-Power" at the Energy Expo.

- Homer comforting Lisa, then turning to Bart: "I'm trying to be a sensitive father you unwanted moron!"

- The bits with the endangered sharks and Homer's invisible dog.

Homer: "From now on, the Simpsons are living...intermittently."

Comic Book Guy: "Behold! I am Captain Kirk from Star Trek 1! 2 ... 5 ... Generations ... Boston Legal." (As an unabashed Star Trek fan, that had me in stitches)

Homer: "I'm not made of money, I'm made of man meat and an a skeleton."

Antonine: "Without that horn, I can't make a living."


Next blog will be about something other than The Simpons, folks. Promise.

D.A.

Simpsons Round-Up!

Just enough time to get in a quick round-up.

Last week's episode was refreshing. Nothing flashy or guest-voicy. Just a solid bro-mance between Homer and...Chief Wiggum?

It happened. And here's the proof...


"Chief Of Hearts"
04/18/10
Homer is completing his court-ordered community service when he befriends his supervisor, Chief Wiggum, by offering him one of his sandwiches. Touched by the act of kindness, Wiggum assigns the other convicts unpleasant tasks, but allows Homer to join him at the picnic table. They continue to grow close, but when the Chief gets injured during a botched bank robbery, Homer doesn't come through when Wiggum needs him the most. Meanwhile, Bart becomes addicted to Battle Ball, a Japanese game made up of plastic balls and magnetic cards, and his family and teachers try to help him kick the habit."


I could be wrong here, (let's face it, I'm not), but I don't recall The Simpsons ever having a Chief Wiggum-centric storyline. A few times he's had a small b-story, but mostly he's on the periphery with Eddie and Lou - where he belongs.
Just kidding. I actually couldn't believe it when I realized this was a first for the soon-to-be longest running show in history. I didn't think there were many of those left - plausible ones, at least.

All in all, nothing really stood out upon first viewing. As I've said before, The Simpsons - even those post-911 - are like fine wine. They get better with repeat viewing. Ok, so that anology isn't exactly air-tight. What I mean to say is, I'd venture to guess it'll be good for a few laughs on a rainy Saturday afternoon when I'm all "I barely remember this one."

Here's a few standout quotes:

Homer: Community service? But that's work! What about jail?
Judge: Community service!
Homer: No, I want to go to jail. Free food, tear drop tattoos, library books that come to you. I'll serve anything but the community!

Marge: That's drug talk. But I could be mistaken. Just let me listen to a little more out of context.

Bart: How'd a pull up like you get a great card like that?
Ralph: My not-dead grandma sent it from Tokyo.
Bart: Ralph, I will play you for that card.
Ralph: Okay, but if I win, you'll have to teach me how to play this game

Chief Wiggum: I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. Cops don't have a lot of friends. Civilians are afraid of us and other cops just remind of us things we want to forget. That's why your friendship is so special to me.
Homer: Chief, me too.
Snake: Umm, you know I've been back here for like ten hours. Any chance of a bathroom break?
Chief Wiggum: Thanks a lot jail bird. Now I have you on burglary and killing a moment.

Chief Wiggum: Who are you, the rules police?
Lou: No, we are the police police.



Blog to you soon,

D.A.

Simpsons Roundup!

Hello all,

Once again I cut this one a bit close to the wire, since there is a new Simpsons on tonight, (I think). Last week's ep was Mr. Burns-centric, which I believe hasn't been done in awhile. There was a time, of course, where it seemed every other ep featured Springfield's most prolific 114 year-old man, but alas, those days were of a simpler, more naive era -- say, circa 2004-2008-ish...

Okay, let's get this party started.

Last week's installment, entitled American History X-Cellent, (a nice title), goes a little something like this:

"American History X-Cellent"
04/11/10
When the police are called to diffuse a rowdy crowd at Mr. Burns' estate, one of the officers recognizes priceless stolen paintings on the walls, and the maniacal billionaire is taken downtown for questioning. With Mr. Burns gone, Smithers takes charge of the power plant. But when employees take advantage of his good nature, he exacts revenge by forcing the employees to work night and day. These unfair working conditions prompt Homer and his crew to devise a plan to bust out Mr. Burns."


What can I say? This one had loads of potential, and some nice moments, but ultimately, fell kinda flat with me. I'd love for this show to really bust out of the box and get back to leading the pack when it comes to zany, irreverent satire, but sadly, I fear that ship has long sailed. Don't get me wrong, I love The Simpsons and I ALWAYS WILL, (caps=emphasis), but I am getting a bit tired of the same old thing, not to mention trying to defend said same old thing to every Tom, Dick and Harry who thinks they could do better.
I will say, I loved how this ep began, in a prison cell with Mr. Burns preparing to meet his maker. A nice little bit of non-linear storytelling, by the "story" descended rather quickly, for my taste, into the usual shtick, (is that how you spell it? Never mind).
Anyway, I loathe to be seen as 'hating' cuz I'm not. So I'll go into some of the more positives to get the sour taste out of my mouth.

A few good lines of note:

Homer: The war is over and the future won. Past never had a chance, man. (preach on, brother.)

Bart: (glad not to be Lisa's kid) If I was in your tummy I'd poo in your throat. (A sweet line, spiced with vintage Bart)

Burns: The power plant's new annual Fourth of July picnic is this upcoming Saturday.
Homer: Woohoo!
Mr. Burns: I'm afraid you misunderstand. This picnic is for me, you will all be spending your Independence Day slaving away in the hot summer sun with no pay, lotion, or gratitude.

Moe: Get your throwing stuff! Turn the protest into a riot!
Milhouse: How much for a tomato?
Moe: Fresh stuff for a dollar. Rotten is two bucks.
Kirk: Son, do you really need the rotten? I mean, it's not like you're actually gonna hit him.

Guard: It's time for a cavity search.
Mr. Burns: Oh, I haven't cavity in forty years.
Guard: I wasn't talking about your teeth.
Mr. Burns: Nor was I.

Mr. Burns: And that's where we came in. Now, without further ado, here's what happened next. But first, I'll daydream about a sport utility vehicle, a crispy chicken sandwich, and a wonderful blue pill!


A few moments of note:

- Liked how the prison warden was addicted to 'H' (Helium) Whoa, that's good satire.
- Good to see Smithers running the plant. Bout time he got his cumuppance, (probably very wrong spelling there). It was nice to see him non-chalantly fall through the trap door by Mr. B's desk and just casually come back.
- Nice to see The Plant introduce a medical plan that covers illness, (thanks a lot, Obamacare).
- Smithers taking 'an important call' that was a telemarketing survey. Plus he wanted to go back and change one of his answers from 4 to 5. ("I'm wasting your time?")
- Bart and Lisa's little b-story about raising ants. That was kinda forgettable, but I liked when Santa's Little Helper ate them all - particularly the last one. Oh, that dog.
- Patti and Selma are dead! (Not quite)

On a sidenote, I thought Southpark was an awesome parody of TRON last week. It was all about Facebook and how it's turning us into mindless status-mad drones. (Gee, ya think?) I urge you to check it out. Now that really is good satire.

Feel free to post a few comments. They're free, and oh so refreshing.

See you next week.

D.A.

An Axis Oblique - Chapter Thirteen - Part 3

I've been promising it for weeks now and here it is...the third and final installment of my monumental Chapter Thirteen...


Everything about this place felt familiar. The road; there was something about it; something. The sound, as his filthy 91’ Cutless tore up the gravel beneath her bald tires. The landscape. On either side of him, trees––mostly bare, but strangely reminiscent of…something… He’d been in the area a few times. Perhaps that was it. But never on this road. Had he?
About a half a mile up, he saw squad cars; two of them; one marked and one not. Something about them called back to his reckless days on the Brooklyn beat. He and partner, Colin McKee took a high-speed chase, (more like joyride), across The Long Island Expressway and four city blocks. They must have cost the city thousands in damage that day; not to mention countless endangered lives. Still, it was fun as Hell. Good times…
“What, no welcome-wagon?” he muttered, rolling up toward the foot of the clearing. Not a soul to greet him; he almost took it personal. Somehow, he’d grown accustomed to her big bubbly eyes hanging on his every move. Good old Fiorentine. Only a matter of time, he thought, mischievously. Down, boy. Been there. Done that. The company ink and so forth. Besides. The girl was just a contingency. ‘In Case of Extreme Horniness Break Glass.’ There were plenty of other fish in this shallow pond.
Take Cynthia, for example; a wet dream wrapped in a tight little package. It nearly killed him to go so slow with her. The way she moved; the way she smelled––even after a good sweat––especially…drove him into a certified frenzy. These days, the sweat came easy. That fancy new cell phone wasn’t the only added accessory to his evolving bachelorhood.
The weeks after Bluemont were like a bold new awakening; unleashing a whole host of budding passions; like sushi, which she introduced him to; (just something about raw flesh), but easily, the most surprising––was his morning run regimen.
He was amazed how effective a little activity could be in the morning to clear the mind and expel the toxins. Hell, he was down a full two cups of coffee.
At last he stepped out of the car and took a proper look around: Shesh, what a depressing spot…and began walking…
Yes, he heard it, or rather, sensed; in that inexplicable way an animal perceived danger. But he was trying not to listen. What was there to fear, after all…from one’s own mind…? Plenty… la, la, la, not listening…
In the distance he heard footsteps. “Who’s there?” A voice barked from the trees.
“At ease, Lieutenant.” The chiseled frame of Lieutenant Estes emerged; his uniform filthy, as were his hands, which looked as though they’d been in the dirt, digging…
“Detective Merrimac. I’m sorry, sir, I thought––”
“Understandable. Where’s Fiorentine?” Perhaps it was his imagination, but he could swear he saw something in the sturdy Latino’s typically-stern stare, right at her name. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear it was something ugly.
“She’s up ahead, sir. Looks like we’re hot on a trail, of sorts; some faint tracks in the dirt. Simmons and Windell are on sweep...”
“You do know there are wild animals in these woods...”
“Yes, sir, well aware.” he said, trying to hide the resentment. “I grew up around here.” Keith smiled.
“Very well. Let’s have a look.” Estes nodded and started back into the trees.
More deja-vu. It seemed to intensify with every crunch forward. Perhaps he had been through these parts, he considered. It was possible. He’d lived in Maplewood long enough to have driven roads, absorbed landscape, and have no specific memory of having done so. Things like that were known to happen. But there was no way––not one chance in holy Hell he’d ever walked this trail before…
“Sir?” Estes was waiting––and Keith was, for some reason, stopped. “Something wrong?”
“No,” he replied, hoarse. “Just a feeling,” he finished, desperate to save face. “Let’s keep moving…” Estes shook his thinning head, almost undetectable…but not quite. Snot-nosed little spic––oughta’a string him up by his greasy brown–– “Would-you-SHUT-UP!?” he snapped at thin air––and looked around…
The trees seemed normal enough. But something was out there. Estes was staring at him like Nurse Ratched at the end of Cuckoo’s Nest––right before the lobotomy. “I, ah…didn’t say––”
“I know that, I…look, can we just get on with it?”
*
The olive-skinned lieutenant took a moment to snap himself out of this Abbott and Costello nightmare. “Yes, sir. It’s…not much further...” It had to be one of the longest conversations they’d ever shared––and to Estes, hands down the strangest.
*
A few dozen yards up, Lisa Fiorentine uncovered two more possible footprints. Within her sight, Sergeants Bill Simmons and Amara Windell were sweeping the scene.
“Sir!” Simmons called anxiously. Fiorentine was startled and, for a split second, looked sharply around for a male superior.
“You’ve got something?” She adjusted.
“Yes, sir, I think so,” he said, panting from just the short trek up the hill.
The woman stood up strait and grabbed another digital shot of the murky trail. It was strange in a way. The unmistakable sense of satisfaction she felt every time another print revealed itself in the semi-frozen mud. Or some small piece of garbage, thought discarded by careless teenagers, turned out to have possible significance. These were all little pieces to a most horrific puzzle; one a small part of her wished never to solve.
Still, it was kind of exhilarating…
As a youngster in Sacramento, while all the other girls played Barbies or My Little Pony, Lisa was hard on the case of some manufactured mystery; (usually more Nancy Drew than Silence of the Lambs). Her insatiable dissatisfaction often proved useful, at any rate, (if not a shade unnerving). But then, so was the guilt; treating another’s misfortune like some sort of game. One feeling held her back, while the other pushed her forward. Together, they kept her sane.
“What’s this?” she asked, and again came the high of another step closer. The marks were subtle; and to the untrained eye, nothing more than the whims of Mother Nature. But there was something else about them. Something almost…organized…
“I wasn’t sure at first. Hell, I’m still not sure...must have looked this spot over a half a dozen times before I noticed the pattern.” Fiorentine looked closer. She saw it too. “As I’m sure you can guess, sir, it’s consistent with…well with, um…”
“With being dragged…” she finished; then looked off into a particularly dense portion of the woods. “So where do you suppose it leads…?”
*
“Windell!” The middle-aged woman marking the scene looked up to her fellow crusaders. “I want you and Simmons to follow this trail…” ordered the girl, little more than a child. “Get some equipment together...”
“Yes, sir,” she said, unsure of herself. In this new era of CSI: Maplewood, no able-bodied officer was expendable. Amara Windell had spent the majority of her twenty-nine years behind a desk, and well-suited to every predictable minute. Now, all of a sudden, she was out in the thick of things, scouring potential crime scenes for evidence of foul play with officers, in some cases, half her age. Her oldest daughter had more years on this girl giving the orders…
On her way to the squad car, she brushed by the young Estes, escorting the real star of this show. “Good morning, Detective Merrimac,” she greeted without stopping.
“Almost didn’t recognize you, Windell, with all that fire in your eyes...” Windell smiled. What a charmer.
*
“Detective Merrimac! Glad you could make it.”
“Makes two of us, hon…” Fiorentine turned up to metaphorically scratch her head––then laughed politely. Did he just call her––? “Time’s money, Sergeant, what’s say we sink our teeth in,” he said; before muttering something inconspicuous under his breath…
Lisa looked quizzically at Estes who simply shrugged. What he said sounded faintly derogatory, but she couldn’t be certain. It almost looked as though he were arguing with…himself… “Sir, are you alr––?”
“What is that, the million dollar question today? I’m wonderful, now let’s get this show on the goddamned road...”
For nearly a half hour, she meticulously went over all evidence accumulated, beginning with the clear eyeglass lens, which they must have missed a dozen times before she finally came within a snake’s tail of stepping on and smashing to pieces. The detective eyed it, glib, as though its chance recovery was barely worth the effort. Coming from anyone else, she might have taken it personally; but his simple indifference only made her more eager. Above all else, (even more than to see justice done), she so desperately wanted to impress this man; for whom she had developed complex, and very deep feelings––
“I know that, by itself, this doesn’t look like much, Keith––” She stopped herself. Keith however, didn’t seem to mind, smiling that charming smile, which melted so many women before her. Out of the corner of her eye, Estes looked like he was going to be sick. “But…Lieutenant Estes here has also uncovered footprints, we believe…”
*
Keith looked sharply at the statuesque officer to his left. In return, he received one of the coldest, most disciplined scowls he’d ever been shot. He thinks I’m a threat, he thought; and it was him; not some dark spot at the foot of his psyche. Only one Captain of this ship, he thought––again, more sure of himself…and started to walk...

agreed

Food for Thought…

Something downright strange was going on. (conclusion the third).
Perry couldn’t put his finger on it. Perry had no fingers. He did have thoughts, though. Powerful ones. No, that wasn’t the word for it. There was no word for it.
This vessel was one stubborn little bugger. Much moreso than the last. Night and day, for those hell-bent on metaphor. But it was no mere question of comparison. Nothing so simple as then versus now… Two sides. Same coin.
How can this be…? This was…borderline insubordination. Un-fucking-acceptable–– Still, the question was valid. This vessel was strong. No matter––he’d run across stronger. But what about the fear? The doubt? The lingering resistance…?
Fuck the fear. Screw the doubt. And as for resistance…
‘The Resistance must be squashed! It must be identified, sought out, and crushed for all time, under the crippling weight of its own inefficiency!’
A promising mantra, (which sounded much better in Spanish).
Perry had confidence––a creature such as he went forth armed in perpetual supply. Nothing could touch the ineffable quality he possessed. Not of this world. Or the next. Nor the thousand thereafter. However atypical the dramas of recent events, this vessel was of no consequence. Just a blip on the radar. No more. No less.
So what if it were the first ‘blip’ of its kind…the first he had ever seen in a very, very long time...?
*
“This is it,” said Simmons assuredly. “Nothing beyond this point.”
“It can’t be.” It all looked the same; trees every which way––for miles... “How can this be it?” Windell added after an extended silence. Simmons had no answer. He seemed just as puzzled, and as painfully out of his element as his exhausted compatriot. Eyes, ears and manpower. That was all they really amounted to in this new, post-Pollack age. And neither one had much of either.
Windell especially, who, after nearly three hours on her feet in the blazing sun over unforgiving ground, looked about ready to drop. Still, she tried; like a woman ten years younger and with far more field-experience. The last thing she wanted to appear, after all, was obsolete. “Maybe he got wise and took more pains to cover them up.”
“I suppose it’s possible,” Simmons entertained. “But why not go back; you know, to cover it all?” He might have been a good deal younger than the plucky grandmother of two, but he sweated just as profusely. On top of that, his right knee was killing him––and not just from the labor. At his current rate, he might not make it to fifty. “Guess we should call in the cavalry,” he said, expecting––and hoping she would agree. “Can’t follow a trail where none exists...”
“Guess not…” she concurred––though not quite committal. He could see she wanted to find something––and could sort of see why. When all this was over, she would likely be thanked for her contribution––however inadequate––and shuffled back to Police Headquarters where she would spend the remainder of her days making coffee, typing reports and answering phones…rain, sleet, snow or shine––getting nothing but old.
“Careful––” he called, noticing her slowly get shorter…then looked down at her boot, where the earth was up to her swollen ankle, and still rising…
“Oh my!” she blurted, embarrassed.
“Here.” He stuck out his stubby hand and pulled her out gently…
“Something must’ve been digging around here,” she said, back on solid ground. “An animal, like a fox, or a…” Simmons looked up.
“You still wanna call for help?” The look on her face showed gathering courage. What a find it would be. What a feather in their caps. Did they dare hold off on the reinforcements? Did they dare go it alone? Windell grabbed at the two-piece shovel and handed it over without a word. Simmons began to dig.
*
Estes kept his distance; watching the pair go over markings in the half-frozen dirt. For anyone else; Davies perhaps––he’d have been right there with them, on his hands and knees to explain every minor detail. He was not, by nature, a man ruled by ego––but he was a man, nonetheless, and tempted to take credit for what was largely his discovery. All the same, he resisted; crouched on a rotting stump with a half-eaten ham sandwich.
There was a moment there––perhaps even two or three––where he could swear Merrimac was not even listening. Fiorentine babbled; on and on with nary a breath between as she pointed to one set of tracks versus another, desperate for his faint nods of interest, or the occasional ‘mm-hm’ to will her forward. But something in his eyes, when he had not noticed anyone watching, suggested a disturbing vacancy. The lights were on, but purely for effect. In that brief interval, no one appeared to be home.
It began with their clumsy eye-contact out by the clearing, before he and his little groupie went to pat each other’s backs. The veteran detective had given him a deep, hostile look that sent a cold shiver down his impeccably-aligned spine. A look that said, ‘don’t cross me, boy. If you know what’s good for you.’ Estes was hardly intimidated; but somewhat unsettled––
It was becoming harder and harder for him to deny; to others, not quite so much, but to himself, the façade was damn-near broken down. It might not have been so bad, he thought, taking another token bite of his sandwich, if it were anyone else but her.
Without realizing, he was up on his feet; the sandwich thrown to the ground in disgust––or was it frustration? And, before he could reign it in, all eyes were on him––
“I’m going for a walk,” he said, as though unaffected. Fiorentine looked on with puzzled bemusement. Merrimac came off a shade more smug.
“Something the matter, Lieutenant?” he asked. And Estes held his tongue.
“No, sir,” he replied, without turning his head. “It just seems you two have things well in hand around here. I thought I’d go check on our roving trackers...”
“Sounds like a good idea,” offered the smarmy detective. Fiorentine added nothing. “Just don’t get lost out there.” Again with that arrogant smirk; (like a finger jammed down his throat). Estes returned the empty gesture with a painted-on grin, flashed for both their benefit, then turned to head off.
“Now where were we, my dear?” He could still hear them, edging out of earshot. Good. Those two could have one another, he thought, dragging his mind out of the gutter and on to more pressing matters. He reached for his mic-phone and called Simmons––
“Go ahead, Lieutenant...” getting Windell instead––
“Where’s Simmons?” he asked, crass. “I thought this was his phone…”
“Yes, sir, it is,” she replied. “Simmons is a little busy at the moment…”
Whatever. “How goes the trail-blazing, Sergeant?”
“Actually, sir, the trail’s run cold.” There was a shaky hesitation in her usually-pleasant delivery. “However,” it continued, “it seems we may have uncovered an even stronger leg to stand on…so to speak…sir…” Lieutenant Estes stopped dead in his tracks, (which also happened to coincide with the faint lines in the thawing dirt).
“Don’t suppose you’d care to elaborate.”
“Well, sir, I could but…it might be better if you saw for yourself...”
“I’m en route,” he said, strides getting longer. “The others are, um…otherwise engaged…”
“Acknowledged. Windell out.” The spring had returned to his sturdy step. At last; something worthy of his expertise––and authority. An air of responsibility; of duty washed over him, clearing all else away. This day might not turn out so bad after all.
*
“So what do you make of it?” she asked, just dying to know. Keith knelt down beside her. Her sweet scent was pleasant; inviting in a playful, non-committal sort of way. But when mixed with that thin layer of forest and sweat…intoxicating…
“Looks pretty solid,” he commended, stealing a glimpse of her firm backside. “But not quite a closed case, Lisa…if you follow...” Right away, she turned her pretty head; perhaps a little over-anxious to acknowledge his unusual familiarity.
“Did I say something wrong, Sergeant?”
“You called me Lisa,” she said, smiling bashful. “I’m just wondering if you hit your head recently.” Keith returned the shy smile.
*
Though his was more polished. She’d seen the smile before, which tended to present itself whenever he turned on the charm; usually in the company of a lady. Christ! She was the lady. Could this be happening? Surely not. It was just her imagination taking her to places reality dare not permit. On the other hand, maybe that birthday wish had finally kicked in. Stranger things had happened. Stranger things were happening…
*
“Some things are long overdue,” he said, eyes penetrating…
“Careful, sir. The ground is starting to melt.”
“That’s not all, I hope...”
“Where, um…where was I?” She cleared her throat awkwardly and zeroed in on the nearest footprint. “I, ah…I mean if I had to guess, I’d say this was made from a…tennis shoe, judging by the pattern the sole makes. Most notably here…” She pointed toward the top-right, around where the balls of the foot dug in most prominent––
“I disagree.” His stare remained unchanged, bordering on intrusive. Fiorentine looked up again into his haunting eyes, more with questioning encouragement than schoolgirl infatuation. At last, he broke away and referenced the print with his finger.
“A boot did this.” He continued. “Probably galoshes, and quite sturdy, at that. Pair of Timberlands maybe…”
“How can you be so certain?” Her expression did little to hide her astonishment. Her eyes were like saucers and her lower lip was practically below her chin.
“Don’t feel bad, Sergeant. I’ve been at this a lot longer than you,” he said, trying not to condescend. “See…” Again he gestured the weak imprint, which seemed to exhibit more definition with each flimsy examination. “This heel is deep, as though it were dug in. A tennis shoe would barely leave an imprint. You’re right about the rubber soul, I suspect. Might have a Beatles fan on our hands.” The smile returned, and not a moment too soon.
“Makes sense.” She nodded, clearly impressed. “Guess it must pay to have all those years under your belt.” She was teasing. Honestly, openly teasing.
“Got more than years under there, sweetheart.” Her short smile morphed into an infectious grin. There was no denying that one. The girl had lobbed in an easy serve and he eagerly returned. Not the best timing perhaps, but still fun.
*
“I’ve also got pants,” he added with a boyish laugh that was no less charming. Fiorentine for all her misgivings, reciprocated with a sultry laugh of her own. It was a hell of a time for him to let loose his legendary playful side––even though she’d had fantasies not all that dissimilar––rip-roaring, spine-tingling fantasies…
“You’re too much, Keith.” Her tone was knee-deep in sentiment. When it came to the mystical art of seduction, she too was no novice. Being female, she was even less a stranger to subtlety and, for the first time in just about ever, spoke his name without the slightest trace of embarrassment or apology.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, leaning in. She felt goose bumps stand to attention up the back of her neck. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re just enough...” She turned her head gracefully and met his hard stare without so much as a flinch.
“Why do I get the feeling you’ve used that line before?”
“I probably have.” Their lips were inches apart. Only a question of time, one of them thought; and both of them knew it.
“Is there some reason I shouldn’t doubt your sincerity?” she asked, lips inching ever so closer…
“Can’t think of one.” Sweet mercy those eyes. She couldn’t hold out much longer. “There have been others, though, you know that. A man gets lonely…”
“Is that so?”
“So it is.”
“Why, Detective, you’re not trying to––” But before she could expel the pointless flirtation, his lips were on hers. And not long after…hers were on his.
*
“Detective Merrimac.” A mediated voice broke in. The girl pulled away.
“Keith, there’s…there’s someone…”
“Just ignore it...”
“Are you there, Detective? Come in please, it’s urgent.” Keith sighed. Estes; fifty feet away and the man still knew how to kill a mood.
Keith sulked the entire trek, short as it was, to meet up with the all-business lieutenant and his two inept protégés––Windell and this…Simmons guy, whom he did not quite know but reminded him of ‘George’ on Seinfeld. On the mic, he’d said it was urgent; that they were apparently, and improbably, on the verge of some crucial discovery. Him too.
Fiorentine was back in game-shape before he could blink. Must be losing your touch, loverboy… As before, Keith had a strange feeling about his surroundings; alien and yet somehow familiar. Like deja-vu all over again. That’s right, this whole place just reminds you of a nightmare you had recently…while you were sound asleep in your warm, safe bed… The two were close now; close enough to hear voices. And digging. Fiorentine pushed the last of the branches aside and caught a clear view of all three––
Windell was the first to greet them. She looked exhausted; and filthy. Still, never had she seemed so…alive... “Detective. Sergeant. You’re just in time.” She stepped aside, though it was unnecessary, for the two men digging were hard to miss.
“In time for what?” Keith asked foolishly.
“Sir!” Simmons called out. His round, bald head was sweating profusely and his shirt did not fare much better. If not for the smell, he might have looked just out of the shower. Estes stopped and signaled for Simmons to do the same. Whatever the man’s shovel had hit, Estes felt it too.
“The end of the trail,” Windell responded, belated. Keith shot her a curious look, then took several measured steps forward, Fiorentine close behind…
“Oh dear God…” Clearing away the last of the discarded earth, Estes loomed over the six foot hole he and the surprisingly strong Bill Simmons had dug in just over eighteen minutes. His blemish-free, olive skin turned suddenly a pale white, and he too took a sizeable step back before climbing all the way out–– “Looks like we can call off the search,” he continued, all the life draining out of his normally level voice. His eyes did not move from the center of the hole––this crude, insensitive grave…
One by one, the others joined in, each one displaying a similar loss of composure, unique to their respective sensibilities. Fiorentine gasped––horrified, yet strangely intrigued. Simmons, still panting for breath, wiped his sweaty brow and looked on the verge of throwing up. Windell was not much different, except instead of nausea, hers was an intense, almost violent sadness, and she struggled to hold back the tears.
Last but not least, there was Keith, who took everything in the way he usually did––calm, cool and collected––almost…empty…much like the partially decomposed body before him. Lifeless, hopeless, filthy and…stinky, pee-yoo... All except for one spot, still caked in dry blood…where her left ear had been––
“I’ll get on the horn to Cuen,” he said, unemotional. The end of the trail indeed, he thought, so far as Susan Laterna was concerned.
The larger one left, led to the monster who put her there.




And there you have it, (for those of you still reading; thanks a lot, by the way). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed not only this very long chapter, but the previous 12 as well, all of which can be found in the archives of this blog.
My plan is to put out a Kindle Book of these chapters, which collectively make up Volume One of my grand horror-epic, An Axis Oblique, (Man, I like saying that). In the meantime, I continue to query agents, publishers and, well anyone willing to be queried...
If you like what you've read, (or Hell, even if you don't), do me a favour and let me know. Feedback is my nourishment...and I'm starving... (caugh)

See you real soon with all sorts of exciting new meanderings.


D.A.

Simpsons Round-up!

Yes, it's that time again.

I have to admit, I've been especially looking forward to this episode of The Simpsons ever since I read a small blurb about it last summer. The Simpsons have never gone to The Holy Land, after all. Plus, Israeli-Palestian humour always goes over so well. Also, I'm a big Sashsa Baron-Cohen fan and when I heard he would be voicing the pushy Israeli tour guide, I envisioned a winner.

Which it was...for the most part...

I admit, after only one measly viewing, its hard to remember, let alone fully apreciate all the sublte nuances to any Simpsons entry, ('old' or 'new'), but this one had a few leaps in logic I felt weren't entirely necessary. Maybe I'm just holding my greatest television influence, (Star Trek: TNG notwithstanding), to a higher standard. Anyway, here's the round-up. Feel free to play along...

"The Greatest Story Ever D'ohed"
03/28/10
When Homer is playing noisily in the yard, it disrupts Flanders' Bible study group. Coaxed by the Reverend, a frustrated Flanders takes it upon himself to redeem Homer by inviting the Simpson family on his church retreat to Jerusalem. Unappreciative of the history and culture, Homer would rather hang out at the hotel's breakfast buffet than tour the city. But when an eccentric tour guide, (guest voice Sasha Baron Cohen), takes the group to famous monuments, including the Dome of The Rock and the Wailing Wall, Homer proves he is not beyond salvation."



I thought the entry had a truly epic feel sorely lacking in many episodes these days, (even the movie). In fact, this story might have made a better movie than the one they actually went with, but I won't go into that here. I will say, however, I think the best thing The Simpsons can do from a creative standpoint is to go off the air for a few years and focus on a series of films, either theatrical releases, direct-to-DVD, (or Blu-ray), or even television specials. A Sideshow Bob or Mr. Burns-themed adventure would be a kick.
This type of approach would, I believe, re-invigorate an ineffable element to The Simpsons continued relevance - the need to be missed. Viewers need to miss The Simpsons. They, along with it's very creators, need to take a break, let people miss the show and slowly build up a new apetite for the yellow-skinned five-some's illustrious return.

Ok now back to the episode at hand.

I really enjoyed Sasha Baron Cohen's voice work in this. It reminded me of the old days, with Hartman, Lovitz and of course, Albert Brooks, who had zany fun with the character and created a personality truly unique to this 20-plus year old show. Knowing many an Israeli, I can say he absolutely nailed the aggressive, almost 'pushy' characteristics so often exhibited by these colorful and truly 'chosen' people. (Ha ha)

Some more things I liked:

- Bart's offensive, yet hilarious line after reading papers shoved in the Wailing Wall: "Reading prayers and ignoring them, just like God."
- Krusty, upon discovering there's no Hell in Judaism, heads to "The Gaza Strip Club."
- Bart telling the Israeli girl she doesn't fight like a girl, or even a Milhouse. "I don't know what is Milhouse?"
- Homer calling a camel, "a sand horse, car of the desert"
- Homer ordering a falafel with pepperoni, sausage and extra cheese.
- "Some of us don't eat pork, some of us don't eat shellfish, but we all of us love chicken.

That last one just about says it all, folks.

...and some pure-Simpsons dialogue...

Ned: Our bible study group is going to the holy land next month. I'd like to take you and your family along as my guests.
Homer: Hmm, let me think. Take my family to a war zone on a bus filled with religious lameos in a country with no pork in a desert with no casinos. Where do I sign up?
Marge: Homer, I can hear your sarcasm from inside the house and the dishwasher is on.

Marge: This country is so historic, for all we know Jesus could have given a talk in conference room C.

Reverend Lovejoy: God has never given up on anyone
Ned: What about Sodom and Gomorrah?
Reverend Lovejoy: He lovingly destroyed them.

Marge: Homie, you're alive.
Homer: I am more than alive, woman. I am the chosen one, who shall unite all the faiths of the holy land. I am the messiah.
Marge: But you still have the passports right?
Homer: Oh yeah, gotta keep track of those. THE MESSIAH! has the passports.

Jacob: What? Israel people are pushy? How about you experience a few genocides and see how laid back you are. We were perished from Spain. Thrown out of there. They allow everyone in Spain. But for us, Jews, no flamenco, get out. I'm pushy? Please. You stay there surrounded by your great enemy Canada. Try sitting here for two months, then we'll see who's pushy.


Nicely done, gang.

Not sure if next weeks is new or not, so I may or may not have another one of these standing by. Either way, I'll be posting part three of chapter 13 of volume one of my epic horror maserpiece, (yup, nice and simple), An Axis Oblique. (long overdue, that's for sure)


D.A.

Guess what? I'm getting published!

Yes it's true, though it may not be entirely what you think.
A month or so back I submitted a short story to Canadian Voices Volume Two, an anthology of short stories, novel excerpts and poetry. You can find it in the archive section of this very blog, if it strikes your fancy.
Anyway, I just recieved word that my story, "The Red Maple Leaf," has been accepted and will be published sometime this summer. The publisher is a small, independent company called Bookland Press. www.booklandpress.com. They're based here in Toronto.
It's small, but definitely gratifying, considering I wasn't too sure about the story to begin with. This is the first time I'll be seeing my words in print, even if it is barely 2000 of them. Gotta say, I'm looking forward to it.
The hope is, I can build on this albeit small inroad of progress by leveraging it into new relationships with like-minded writers, editors, agents and publishers. I do have a few novels burning a hole in my hard drive, after all.

I'll continue to blog about my first experience into the terrifying world of publishing as it unfolds. Hope all you fellow aspirers out there will find it informative, and maybe even a little inspriring.

Cheers,

D.A.

Simpsons Round-up!

This one's right on the wire, considering we're a mere hours away from another new episode.

Last week's featured one of my faves, Sarah Silverman as a precocious fourth-grader who turns Bart's fragile heart to mush. Women...

"Stealing First Base"
03/21/10
Principal Skinner announces that Mrs. Krabappel was called out of town and budget cuts dictate that, until she returns, the school's two fourth grade classes will merge. Bart reluctantly shares a desk with Nikki (guest voice Sarah Silverman) and develops a flirtatious rapport. Bart talks to Grampa about his new crush, and at Grampa's suggestion, gives Nikki a kiss. But when Nikki starts giving Bart mixed signals, he swears off women forever. Meanwhile, Lisa's classmates ostracise her for being an overachiever, and First Lady Michelle Obama, (guest voice Angela Basset), a self-professed nerd, comes to Lisa's defence."


This one had its moment's. Among them...

-Nelson bonding with a blind student, who soon "surpases the teacher."
-The elaborate Koyaanisqatsi-esque Itchy and Scratchy montage, which Homer and Bart enjoy - in 3D! (Guess they made another movie)
-The little cameo from everyone's favorite Jackie-O-wannabe, Michelle Obama, (voiced by Angela Basset for some reason. Seriously, me thinks they should have given her a better part).
-The AWESOME kissing montage when Nikki revives Bart via mouth-to-mouth. Among the great screen kisses, I noted, Rett and Scarlett, Ripley and Alien, Sammy Davis Jr. planting one on Archie Bunker, and (Nu)Spock and (Nu)Uhura, (the distinction must be maintained).
-The somewhat disturbing display of affection between Willy and Principal skinner. Let's hope that little sub-plot stays nipped in the bud.

Some funny lines:

Ralph: I cheated wrong. I copied the Lisa name and used the Ralph answers.


Superintendent Chalmers: By now you've haard that one of our fourth graders did something that 100 years ago would have been completely innocent but in today's over litigious society has been blown completely out of proportion.


Michelle Obama: That's right, Lisa, as an avid organic gardner I've read your blog.
Lisa: Flotus1 is First Lady of the United States, one.
Michelle Obama: Yes, I wanted just flotus, but someone had it.
Ralph: That's me because I swim with my flotuses on.


Another solid, if a bit forgettable, outing. Next week, (or tonight's) episode takes the Simpsons where no cartoon has gone before...the Holy Land...No, not Chicago. Israel, baby! Should be a doozy.

D.A.

What Am I Reading? Fanboy and Gothgirl!

Hi there and welcome to my second exciting intallment of 'What Am I Reading?' For those of you who missed the first...for shame... Okay, I forgive you. You can find it in the archives, in any case. Anyway, in there, I explain the intention of this little exercise, which is to give all you kids out there an idea of how to stay inspired. You know, keep that fire burning under you for those long, lonely days of scratching and clawing and cold...so cold...

Where was I?

Right, 'What Am I Reading?' Well, I'm currently reading three books at once! Impressive, huh? It was actually four, but I just finished one; the one I'll be talking about today, go figure. Two novels and two non-fiction, (financial, cuz I kinda need a little guidance in that area) and the other's a novel called Today I Am A Man, written by a friend of mine named Larry Rodness. He's a first-time author and going places, but I'll have to save that for a future installment.

The Astonishing Adventures of Fanboy and Gothgirl, (actual title), is a book I found in the 'last copies' bin at my local Indigo. It's a young adult novel written by Barry Lyga, his first but not last. The reason I picked it up was because I'm something of a fanboy myself on occasion and I guess I gravitated toward the title. Mainly though, I'm interested in the children's/young adult fiction market and decided a while back to immerse myself in stuff I'd like to emulate. I recently re-read The Chryslids by my hero, John Wyndham, which I haven't read since 10th grade and it was even better the second time.

Fanboy and Gothgirl is essentially about an awkward fifteen year old boy who is depressed. Believe me, I can relate - but that's another story never to be told. He's something of an intellectual and a huge comic book nerd but has next to no social experience and a stressful homelife. Since I'm not much of a reviewer, I won't go into too many plot details but I found it to be a well-paced, fairly moving story about growing up and accepting change and...all that fun stuff. As well, I found our 'fanboy' to be an intriquing, very relateable lead character, with which many teenagers can no doubt identify.
When he meets Kyra, (aka Gothgirl), he finds someone even more antisocial than him. Their relationship is surprisingly complex as is the character of Kyra, who is portrayed with considerable depth and realism. I found this to be true of all the characters, actually, even though through the first third or so of the book, I had my reservations. I had thought them to be a bit on the 'cliche' end of the spectrum, until they - along with the storyline - started to go in directions I didn't expect. I particularly apreciated the somewhat unresolved conclusion and complementary theme of change and acceptance being more matters of internal perception than external perspective, but maybe I'm just a moron who reads too much.

Though this was his first novel, I've recently discovered Barry Lyga's growing body of work, including a sequel to this very book called Goth Girl Rising, written, (I presume), from the point of few of Kyra herself. Who knows, maybe I'll even give it a read some time.

I've just completed an outline for a middle-grade novel called Flotsam, which I hope to move forward on soon. Writers like Lyga are excellent sources of inspiration. If you want to check out this book or this author, or if you'd like to learn more about reading...(just kidding), check him out here. http://barrylyga.com/new/

See you next time and remember kids, give a hoot, read a book.

D.A.