Beautiful Handcrafted Animals

Just like the title says, I’m a lazy bastard. Blogging, it turns out, is something I’m only good at in the abstract. See, I feel like I should have something interesting to say if I’m blogging and lately . . . well, not so much.

Okay, so we’ve seen a couple movies, so that’s something.

And I started writing a new book. I figure that’s something, too.

Movies first, then? We haven’t seen anything surprising, I’m afraid. Iron Man was uniformly excellent. If you actually cared, though, you’d have already seen it, and made up your mind for yourself.

The new Indiana Jones movie was uniformly not excellent. The most enthusiastic reviews you’ll find online or in print sound like nothing so much as rationalizations or apologies. People reach to emphasize the stuff that worked for them (like hearing Harrison Ford talk “as Indy” again, or the swell of John Williams’ score). Others — like me — just can’t get past the crap.

Here’s my one sentence review of Indy IV. Do with it as you will: “In Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, we’ve got the “Star Wars Prequel” effect in full force; bits and pieces are good, but overall it feels like the storytellers are talking down to us, explaining where no explanations are necessary, and making us feel, not the joy of youth, but the, “don’t talk down to me” feeling so many kids have.”

Also, I’m going to start using, “Nuked The Fridge” from here on in when describing entertainment which has moved, ahem, past its freshness date. Used to be, “Jumped the Shark,” but in my opinion, that phrase has, heh, nuked the fridge.

Other stuff? I’ve read a couple books, re-read a couple old favorites. I wish more Robert A. Heinlein was available for my Amazon Kindle. Suppose that’s just a matter of time.

Oh, and the book. Yeaaaah, that . . . okay. Beautiful Handcrafted Animals is right where we last visited it: resting. First draft is done, or all-but done, which is really the same thing. The next words I’ll type for that beast will be for the Second draft which, hey, let’s all keep our fingers crossed that’ll be the Final Draft, eh?

But.

But I had another idea. More to say, it’s an old, old idea which I’ve been tossing around for a long, long time. Out of the blue, all of a sudden, boom, I had an idea which I like very much pop into my head. So I’m playing with it. One of the nice things about being an unpublished novelist is you can sort of flit here and there at will. Nobody’s breathing down my neck to finish finish finish by a certain date. So if I want to monkey about, I’m free to.

What’s the story with the new book?

The title, and some folks are going to start getting the idea I have a thing for weird book titles, should be, “Lions Together Are Called A Pride.” I’ll be referring to it internally as, “Lions Together”, mostly because it’s less to type.

What’s it about? Hmm, another one that’s hard to sum up. Essentially, it’s the story of a woman who experiences something extraordinary. Possibly she’ll learn something about herself, even though I’m not really a big fan of self-discovery.

If that seems vague, it’s purposely so. To explain what the, “something extraordinary” is, or what she takes away from it would be to give the whole thing away. Suffice it to say, I think it’s an interesting idea and, more importantly, an interesting character to write about.

Her name is Nicola, “Nikki” Arlen. Not that it matters. But if you see me talking about Nikki, you should know who I’m talking about.

I’d tell you about the other characters in the book, but so far they’re all dead. You’d be amazed how hard it is to write for dead people . . .

Oh, and for a final move, as far as, “what’s up now?” the answer is . . . stuff. Writing. Reading. We’re moving to a new house towards the back half of the Summer months. Things are good, and feeling good.

I’m going to work on posting here more regularly. That seems to spur me to write more regularly, which is, of course, a good thing.

So, there you go.

Okay, maybe not me, personally. But back when the Will Smith movie, “I Am Legend” was in theaters, it was a not-uncommon occurrence to spot a theater marquee that abbreviated the title to the much less awe-inspiring, “I’m Legend”.

I found it funny, and now there you have it.

I watched the movie last night, while getting some work done (while Jessy was curled up in a ball with the same upper respiratory infection I had two weeks ago) and I think I have to agree with what most reviewers had to say.

Decent movie, shitty ending.

I’m going to spoil the ending, spoil both endings (the DVD has a “controversial alternate ending” which I didn’t find that “controversial”, to be honest). Be warned.

Here, there be spoilers:

In the “theatrical” ending, Neville (Smith) hands off the cure and basically suicides and we see the woman (I forget her name — she didn’t make much of an impression) driving to Vermont. She has the cure, and it’s supposed to be a cool ending. Nope.

In the “alternate” ending, Neville (Smith) releases the “cured” “vampire” to the other “vampires” and the next scene shows him and the woman driving to Vermont. The implication is that the “vampires” are learning to think, are evolving, and he doesn’t feel he has to “cure” them anymore.

Woooo.

Neither ending is very good. Additionally, neither ending (neither version of the movie, come to that) has fuck-all to do with the title, “I Am Legend”.

Have you read the book? You should. It’s bleeding awesome. I will now spoil the ending of the book for you:

Here there be spoilers:

Neville, who has been living in New York City and hunting the vampires (no more quotes as it’s expressly stated that vampires is what they are) for three years, is captured by means of a ruse. The nameless woman (she has a name, but I’m lazy and not looking it up) is actually a vampire, and she gets his confidence and is able to effect a trap.

However, in trapping him, seducing him, whatever you want to call it, she finds herself . . . maybe not attracted to him, but certainly impressed. So she comes to the cell where Neville is hiding and gives him a potion he can drink which will kill him in a rather painless fashion. This is to escape the violent death the vampires have in store for him.

See, in the three years he’s been hunting them, the vampires have been evolving (as in the movie). They’re getting smarter. Not all of them, but some of them. They’re building a society. And they’ve blanketed the planet. Neville looks out the window to his cell and he sees a virtual ocean of them clamoring for a glimpse at Robert Neville.

The monster.

See, while he’s been doing his best to survive and strike out at them, they’ve been living in terrified fear of him. Robert Neville has become the new boogieman. He’s a creature. He’s a monster.

He’s become a thing of legend.

And that’s the end of the book. He realizes, looking out at them (they are awed into silence as he comes to the window, I believe) that they are the world now and he is a thing of myth and wonder.

I am legend.

Boom.

That is an ending. Imagine that. Imagine Will Smith coming to in a cell high above a courtyard filled with a writhing throng of “vampires”. He looks out on them and he understands that they aren’t the monsters — he is.

Hey, at the very least, it would have some connection with the name. At least the Vincent Price (The Last Man on Earth) and Charlton Heston (The Omega Man) versions had the decency to change the flipping name. “I Am Legend”

Not by half, bucko.

Still, up to the ending, it’s a pretty cool movie. Shame they had to chicken out and go all Hollywood in lieu of a superior and actually thought-provoking ending.

But what can you do, right?

Christ on a stick, it’s been a rotten month.  Busy as hell at the “day job”, and it seems like every mouth-breathing fool with my cell phone can’t help but call up and stammer in confusion.

It’s  been a rough month.

And I’ve been really, really bad about posting.  See, nothing to post about, no writing, and basically nothing but days and days spent alternating between firing off emails and hours on the phone.

And my hands-free is busted, so I’m actually (shudder) talking using the phone itself.

Hold me.

I don’t know that there’s an “end” in sight for this ridiculous business.  My office (the downtown office) was under construction for a month and I figured that would be a good opportunity to catch up.  Get some writing done.  Maybe get to the gym in the morning and stuff.

Nope.

Every day, literally every day, I would get off to my computer and find insanity waiting in my Inbox.  Every day, literally, every day, I would find 3, 5, 10 messages waiting on my cell phone.

Don’t ask me, man.  Maybe it’s something in the water.

We’re doing jobs in Montreal, Toronto, Chicago, Georgia.  Out of nowhere.  We’ve had weeks where we were doing 200, 300, even 400 person projects.

Out of nowhere.  Literally.  Phone call on Wednesday for Friday out of nowhere.  Phone call on Thursday for Thursday NIGHT out of nowhere.

Also, I got an awesome upper respiratory infection.  My doctor told me, “try not to talk for a couple days.”

So, of course, I spent the next two days SOLID on the phone.

Argh.

I don’t think it’s over.  Nosirre.  I don’t even think I’m going to get a break.  But I can’t wait for that to happen — it could be months or more before the wolves retreat to the hills and let me be for a drop.

So, here we go.

The plan is to give a quick read on the presently-existing First Draft.  Minor notes, mark it up but don’t fix it sort of thing.  Then I’ll get started on the Second Draft.  This is a much slower process, and may take many months (or longer, or shorter, depending on how hard the rest of the world starts kicking my ass).

I will update this space as we go.  Or as we don’t go.  People should feel free to harass me and/or make fun of me as we go along.  No posts?  Smack in the head.  Time, she is a wasting.

So, here we go (again).

I’m not sure if I can embed a video in this, or not, but if you want to imagine the song from the end of Portal while you read this post, that would be just fine by me.

Here’s a link: SONG

I could spoiler-tag that, as it’s the end of the game, but I imagine anyone it might mean anything to has already seen it, etc., etc., worlds without end.

So, how’s everyone doing?

As some folks, who’ve asked me in person (or the internet variation on such) know, I’ve been having the devil’s own time connecting to this blog. Until just now, of course.

Clearly, I have gotten back in.

Beautiful Handcrafted Animals still sits, neatly piled up, waiting for me to dig back into it (just in case that’s why you’ve found yourself here). It’s resting right now, as am I.

Also, I got myself an Amazon Kindle. If you don’t know what that is, it’s essentially an e-book reader on steroids. Electronic paper means you can read without eyesore, and using minimal battery life. Plus, you can buy a book “on-the-go” which is really just a non-fancy way of saying you can flip a switch, connect to Amazon.com and buy (at a heady discount) any of the 90,000+ books currently available via their Kindle store.

It’s pretty sexy.

We got my Dad one for his birthday, back in December, and it’s taken literally until right now for mine to arrive. It sits, waiting, charging, next to my keyboard.

One of the very nice things about this Kindle is you can download, for free, a sample of any book you might be interested in reading. I’m sure normal humans would use this to test out a book, or see what they thought of the author, but I’m using it as a sort of “shopping cart” for Kindle books. Grab the first chapter, and then I don’t have to worry about remembering what it was I wanted to read later on.

When you buy a book, it takes about a minute to download. When I think of all the crappy books and magazines I’ve bought, over the years, racing through Penn Station, so I’d have something to read on the ride home . . . well, its’ very nice.

Right now I have some twenty-odd books on my Kindle. These include:

• Jeff Lindsay’s Dexter books
• W. Somerset Maugham’s, Of Human Bondage — which seems to just be too damned thick to take with me in any other format
• All three His Dark Materials books
• Heinlein’s, Stranger In A Strange Land (I hope it’s the unabridged version)
• The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (for like, six bucks — how could I resist?)
• The Caitlin R. Kiernan, Beowulf movie adaptation, which I also could not resist.
• A couple Douglas Preston / Lincoln Childs books, mainly solo efforts I haven’t read yet
• William Gibson’s, Neuromancer
• F. Scott Fitzgerald’s, The Great Gatsby (I think it was $0.99, for pity’s sake)
• Clive Barkers, Imajica (great, heavy, book)
• Joe Hill’s, 20th Century Ghosts
• Aaaand, another twenty or so “sample chapters” of other things.

This crazy thing weighs about the same as a trade-paperback. So I’m carrying all that around with me, in a form-factor about the same size as a book I could blow through going downtown and back uptown again.

Amazing.

I’m reading a lot now (as you might imagine — I’m just polishing off Christopher Priest’s, The Prestige, the basis for the Christopher Nolan movie), and that usually means I’m not writing. That’s okay. I’m getting ready for a break and that means writing, writing, writing.

What else? Oh, we went for a double-feature this past Saturday, catching Enchanted (we loved it) and The Orphanage (uh-mazing). We still want to see No Country For Old Men and There Will Be Blood, and we’re aiming to catch at least one of them this Saturday.

So, what’ve y’all been up to?

First off, Happy New Year!  I figure, wherever you may be, you should have rolled over into 2008 by now, so welcome to the new year.  Pull up a chair and make yourself comfortable — hopefully the show will be good.

It’s Tuesday night.  We got back from our Aruban Family Vacation (AFV) about midnight Sunday night (which is to say, about 12am Monday morning, if you can dig that).

Have you been to Aruba?  It’s a lovely, beautiful, picturesque island where the water is this magical kind of blue you only see on The Discovery Channel or in your dreams.

It’s also a big, damned strip mall (nothing is perfect, eh) and the “service”, and that is a term I’ll use loosely, often leaves something to be desired.

Over the course of seven days on the lovely island (really, it’s nice — just because it’s not for me doesn’t mean it’s not lovely), I had exactly one meal come “right” on the first try.  One meal in seven days.  That can wear on one’s patience and I assure you it did.

Still, even with that, I think overall a good time was had.  It’s great to be back, though, even if it is cold and rainy.

I’m pleased to report that folks have actually been harassing me for not updating this blot. Good work, team!

I have actually gotten some writing done, though not nearly as much as I might like. I have a “good” explanation for this, though, so I don’t feel nearly as badly as I probably should.

Okay.

I posted last month in my post, How Good A Movie is The Mist? that Jessy and I went to see the new Stephen King / Frank Darabont movie, The Mist (as the title of said post may imply). This turned out to be a mistake, oddly enough.

Seeing the movie made me curious to read the book again. So, I did. Reading The Mist again made me enjoy reading on the subway (I try and not read when I’m actively writing, especially in the fashion of NaNoWriMo. I tend to pick up things other authors do, tricks they pull, and that changes the book I’m writing). So I grabbed a copy of Daphne DuMaurier’s Rebecca and gave that a read.

That’s a hell of a book, it is.

Only problem is, the language and descriptions are of a completely different style from what I’m using in Animals. I set down to write one night and found myself fairly exploding with flowery prose, long descriptions of moonlit vistas, etc., etc.

It was bad. Very bad.

So I’ve put myself on a little fast, slammed on the brakes and froze the works right where they lay.

It’s been about a week since I finished Rebecca and I think I’m feeling up to it again. I even had a good idea (always a good sign) as I was walking Jack The Dog this morning.

So, I’m hoping to spend some time alone with the PowerBook tonight. I won’t likely get Galen and company to the end of the book before going away for the holidays, but they’re still right where I left them, and I will have my laptop (though I tend to not write when the scenery changes — force of habit).

Keep harassing me, though, folks. It is working, and helping. I just had to move past another author’s work and get back into my own head.