Ask the Author: Jason R. Richter
Answered Questions (8)
Jason R. Richter
You are no doubt familiar with the Indonesian Palm Civit, the weasel-like rodent that eats raw coffee beans and poops out hundred dollar bills. I mean, high end fermented coffee beans.
What most people forget is the North American Maize Civit. These highly intelligent creatures were once more prolific that squirrels in North America and Canada. They were viewed as equals of men in Mayan and Aztec cultures, an honor rarely bestowed on quadrupeds.
As American Indians (I don't say Native American, you can talk to George Carlin about that if you disagree) bred corn from the hard-scrabble flowering weed that it was in ancient times, they noticed that the Civits ate it with relish but never fully digested it. Partially digested Civit corn was eventually used in holy rituals and was said to induce direct dialogue with the gods.
Unfortunately, European explorers wiped out most of the American Indians as well as the majority of the North American Maize Civit population. A few Civits survived, less than one hundred in North America right now, but they are slowly being bred in captivity to increase their ranks to pre-Explorer numbers.
Civit breeders manufacture candy corn in an attempt to remind us of corn's link to the gods. All profits from candy corn go to Civit re-population efforts.
One unsubstantiated rumor I've heard is that candy corn, like regular corn, does not digest in humans or Civits. Undigested human candy corn is said to be fed to Maize Civits and the undigested result, when eaten again by humans is unimaginable.
What most people forget is the North American Maize Civit. These highly intelligent creatures were once more prolific that squirrels in North America and Canada. They were viewed as equals of men in Mayan and Aztec cultures, an honor rarely bestowed on quadrupeds.
As American Indians (I don't say Native American, you can talk to George Carlin about that if you disagree) bred corn from the hard-scrabble flowering weed that it was in ancient times, they noticed that the Civits ate it with relish but never fully digested it. Partially digested Civit corn was eventually used in holy rituals and was said to induce direct dialogue with the gods.
Unfortunately, European explorers wiped out most of the American Indians as well as the majority of the North American Maize Civit population. A few Civits survived, less than one hundred in North America right now, but they are slowly being bred in captivity to increase their ranks to pre-Explorer numbers.
Civit breeders manufacture candy corn in an attempt to remind us of corn's link to the gods. All profits from candy corn go to Civit re-population efforts.
One unsubstantiated rumor I've heard is that candy corn, like regular corn, does not digest in humans or Civits. Undigested human candy corn is said to be fed to Maize Civits and the undigested result, when eaten again by humans is unimaginable.
Jason R. Richter
You are a steely-eyed student of subtext, sir. Well played. Well played, indeed.
I don't often talk about it in public anymore, but I was briefly in the seminary. It apparently still bleeds through into my writing. People that knew of my seminary stint from my former life and knew about my leaving assumed it was my propensity to giggle whenever someone wrote or said the word 'seminary.'
But it is a much darker tale than that.
My downfall was a comparative religion class. Basic, 101 level stuff. Who has the most available sizes? Best seating? Most afterlife amenities? Who saves people more on car insurance?
The paper I turned in was entitled "The Bro-ification of World Religions." I won't bore you with all the details, but the gist was when men turned religion into a corporation, they shunted all the women to the side relegating them to the roles of prostitutes and chattel. Before the "bro-ification," before white bearded Anthony Hopkins lifeguard god decided to count how many times I masturbated, women were the center of all religions. They are the sacred divine made manifest in all our lives.
This did not go over well and it quickly became the same, tired cliche.
Midnight, torchlit tribunal meeting in the quad.
The reading of the charges, chief among them being proclaimed a pantheistic goddess worshiper.
The stripping of my vestments.
The removing of my name from the rolls.
And the sticky buns.
The voiding of my parking permit.
The running me out of town on the ceremonial rail.
You know, the usual.
In certain parts of Nebraska, I am still referred to in much the same way as Voldemort. Except, I'm "The One who shall not date our daughter."
As "Identifying Deities and Trapping Them Safely" is a third year course, I am not 100% sure which goddesses were looking down on me. I have narrowed it down to the three most likely.
Aeval [pronounced "EYE-vull"], Celtic goddess of sexual relations. She was a known punisher of men that did not properly sate their women.
Nin-imma [pronounced as it's spelled], Sumerian goddess. She was the deification of the female genitals.
Tlazolteotl [pronounced incorrectly], Aztec goddess of death, filth, licentiousness, sex, uncertainty, intoxication, and pleasure. She would punish the unfaithful, but she was also a purification goddess and would heal people of maladies caused by sex and intoxication. This is what earned her the "Filth Eater" nickname.
Those are the most likely, as I said. As for the second part of your question, young squire, I will tell you only this:
You should not be afraid that the goddess looks down upon you. You should be afraid because the goddess looks down upon you in disfavor.
I don't often talk about it in public anymore, but I was briefly in the seminary. It apparently still bleeds through into my writing. People that knew of my seminary stint from my former life and knew about my leaving assumed it was my propensity to giggle whenever someone wrote or said the word 'seminary.'
But it is a much darker tale than that.
My downfall was a comparative religion class. Basic, 101 level stuff. Who has the most available sizes? Best seating? Most afterlife amenities? Who saves people more on car insurance?
The paper I turned in was entitled "The Bro-ification of World Religions." I won't bore you with all the details, but the gist was when men turned religion into a corporation, they shunted all the women to the side relegating them to the roles of prostitutes and chattel. Before the "bro-ification," before white bearded Anthony Hopkins lifeguard god decided to count how many times I masturbated, women were the center of all religions. They are the sacred divine made manifest in all our lives.
This did not go over well and it quickly became the same, tired cliche.
Midnight, torchlit tribunal meeting in the quad.
The reading of the charges, chief among them being proclaimed a pantheistic goddess worshiper.
The stripping of my vestments.
The removing of my name from the rolls.
And the sticky buns.
The voiding of my parking permit.
The running me out of town on the ceremonial rail.
You know, the usual.
In certain parts of Nebraska, I am still referred to in much the same way as Voldemort. Except, I'm "The One who shall not date our daughter."
As "Identifying Deities and Trapping Them Safely" is a third year course, I am not 100% sure which goddesses were looking down on me. I have narrowed it down to the three most likely.
Aeval [pronounced "EYE-vull"], Celtic goddess of sexual relations. She was a known punisher of men that did not properly sate their women.
Nin-imma [pronounced as it's spelled], Sumerian goddess. She was the deification of the female genitals.
Tlazolteotl [pronounced incorrectly], Aztec goddess of death, filth, licentiousness, sex, uncertainty, intoxication, and pleasure. She would punish the unfaithful, but she was also a purification goddess and would heal people of maladies caused by sex and intoxication. This is what earned her the "Filth Eater" nickname.
Those are the most likely, as I said. As for the second part of your question, young squire, I will tell you only this:
You should not be afraid that the goddess looks down upon you. You should be afraid because the goddess looks down upon you in disfavor.
Jason R. Richter
I'd like to answer your last question first, then your middle question last, and your first question second.
The research staff at Mad Hatter Industries have determined that future copies of the book will not cause sudden onset ovulation in women or the formation of third nipples in men over age eighteen. This was a regrettable side-effect that necessitated the recall that you've probably seen on the news. Hopefully, something, somewhere will happen that will get the 24 hour news networks off my back. We've fixed the problem. Move on, Fox News.
Readers are still urged to not read the book while operating heavy machinery.
I am still getting reports that, on average, two readers out of five have a problem putting the book down. This is an endothermic reaction caused when the sweat of certain people -- usually those with a diet high in PBR and curry powder -- mixes with the ink on the front and back cover. Future editions will have a more hypoallergenic ink. Mad Hatter Industries recommends switching to a different beer, say 90 Shilling or 1554, or to Canadian whiskey while reading the book and mixing your own curry powder and stop buying pre-packaged spice blends from the grocery store.
As for the first question, I am indeed planning on releasing an unexpurgated version. The original manuscript melted e-reader batteries upon opening and summoned a demon. Usually a very minor demon. Left sock eaters. Spring loaded tong drawer jammers. One instance of the Bel-Shamharoth. It was a very small village, I'm told. The research staff assures me that they've pinpointed the possessed phrases and are working to arrange them in a more benign fashion.
As for when? Next year I'm hoping to release the much anticipated follow up to Mating Rituals.
2016? No, I have to get a haircut.
2017? I don't have anything on the books for 2017. I could pencil that in for 2017. If an earlier date opens up, I will let you know.
The research staff at Mad Hatter Industries have determined that future copies of the book will not cause sudden onset ovulation in women or the formation of third nipples in men over age eighteen. This was a regrettable side-effect that necessitated the recall that you've probably seen on the news. Hopefully, something, somewhere will happen that will get the 24 hour news networks off my back. We've fixed the problem. Move on, Fox News.
Readers are still urged to not read the book while operating heavy machinery.
I am still getting reports that, on average, two readers out of five have a problem putting the book down. This is an endothermic reaction caused when the sweat of certain people -- usually those with a diet high in PBR and curry powder -- mixes with the ink on the front and back cover. Future editions will have a more hypoallergenic ink. Mad Hatter Industries recommends switching to a different beer, say 90 Shilling or 1554, or to Canadian whiskey while reading the book and mixing your own curry powder and stop buying pre-packaged spice blends from the grocery store.
As for the first question, I am indeed planning on releasing an unexpurgated version. The original manuscript melted e-reader batteries upon opening and summoned a demon. Usually a very minor demon. Left sock eaters. Spring loaded tong drawer jammers. One instance of the Bel-Shamharoth. It was a very small village, I'm told. The research staff assures me that they've pinpointed the possessed phrases and are working to arrange them in a more benign fashion.
As for when? Next year I'm hoping to release the much anticipated follow up to Mating Rituals.
2016? No, I have to get a haircut.
2017? I don't have anything on the books for 2017. I could pencil that in for 2017. If an earlier date opens up, I will let you know.
Jason R. Richter
I'm glad you asked.
Mr. Owl is a puppet of the vast Military-Snack Food Shadow Government that has been pulling our strings for far too long. Three, Mr. Owl? An obvious jab at the three branches of government that allegedly run this country while you sit on high looking down at us like poorly drawn, neck-less children.
I say nay, Mr. Owl. No more will we be distracted by your sugary treats as you destroy the very principles that made this country great.
Smash the Tootsie Pop with a hammer. There will be zero licks to get to the center. Rise up, my friends.
Rise up.
Mr. Owl is a puppet of the vast Military-Snack Food Shadow Government that has been pulling our strings for far too long. Three, Mr. Owl? An obvious jab at the three branches of government that allegedly run this country while you sit on high looking down at us like poorly drawn, neck-less children.
I say nay, Mr. Owl. No more will we be distracted by your sugary treats as you destroy the very principles that made this country great.
Smash the Tootsie Pop with a hammer. There will be zero licks to get to the center. Rise up, my friends.
Rise up.
Jason R. Richter
You and I cannot make Everlating Gobstoppers. Willy Wonka was the final regeneration of the Time-Lord known as The Doctor who had decided to retire on earth. The Everlasting Gobstopper uses TARDIS technology in the form of glassine sucrose crystals that are capable of existing in two points in space at the same time. It's the sugar equivalent of an iceberg. Only a small portion exists in our time and space but more is pushed into our dimension as we eat it. The inter-dimensional piece that we cannot see is roughly the size of Mount Everest. So, Everlasting is a matter of perspective.
I hope this answers your question, young lady.
I hope this answers your question, young lady.
Jason R. Richter
The secret to writing is [pause for thunder on the soundtrack] -- writing. Write everyday. Your minimum daily goal is 1,000 words, rain or shine, whether you have something to say or not.
Read outside the genre that you're writing in. Read your genre, of course. If you support other writers in your genre, they should support you. However, if all you read is Douglas Adams, your writing is going to sound like a cheap Douglas Adams rip-off.
Don't worry too much about genres, getting an agent, getting a "web presence" until you have a completed manuscript.
Stop saying, "I want to become a writer." If you put words on a page you ARE a writer. You may not be a paid writer or a famous writer or a best selling writer, but you are a writer.
And, the biggest thing after developing a daily writing habit, find a good writing critique group. By good I mean, they shouldn't all unanimously love or hate what you write. They should be able to give you constructive criticism that will make your writing better. If you want nothing but praise, give it to your mother and she'll put your story on the fridge. You want hate, the internet is full of trolls that will happily oblige.
Oh, and stop using adverbs. Even intermittently.
Read outside the genre that you're writing in. Read your genre, of course. If you support other writers in your genre, they should support you. However, if all you read is Douglas Adams, your writing is going to sound like a cheap Douglas Adams rip-off.
Don't worry too much about genres, getting an agent, getting a "web presence" until you have a completed manuscript.
Stop saying, "I want to become a writer." If you put words on a page you ARE a writer. You may not be a paid writer or a famous writer or a best selling writer, but you are a writer.
And, the biggest thing after developing a daily writing habit, find a good writing critique group. By good I mean, they shouldn't all unanimously love or hate what you write. They should be able to give you constructive criticism that will make your writing better. If you want nothing but praise, give it to your mother and she'll put your story on the fridge. You want hate, the internet is full of trolls that will happily oblige.
Oh, and stop using adverbs. Even intermittently.
Jason R. Richter
If I get blocked, I have this super, secret writer's trick. I could get thrown out of the guild for this, but here goes:
1. Acknowledge you are blocked, stuck, at an impasse. Or an imp arse if you're English.
2. Employ an infrequently used bit of punctuation around some words. I'm a fan of these "{{{ WORDS}}}".
3. Go the hell around.
For example, your main character is stuck in a well that you have described as impossible to get out of, but they have to get out of the well, because you are not writing a story about someone dying of thirst at the bottom of a well. You can't think of how they will get out of the well, so you write, "{{{Get protagonist out of well.}}}" Then your next sentence is, "Once the protagonist got out of the well, his spree of violence was able to continue."
4. Continue writing until you come to the end of the story or until the solution pops into your brain. If nothing else, you are writing the first draft. It is allowed to suck. It can have more holes than an afghan. It can have more terrible cliches than the previous sentence. The important thing is finishing.
1. Acknowledge you are blocked, stuck, at an impasse. Or an imp arse if you're English.
2. Employ an infrequently used bit of punctuation around some words. I'm a fan of these "{{{ WORDS}}}".
3. Go the hell around.
For example, your main character is stuck in a well that you have described as impossible to get out of, but they have to get out of the well, because you are not writing a story about someone dying of thirst at the bottom of a well. You can't think of how they will get out of the well, so you write, "{{{Get protagonist out of well.}}}" Then your next sentence is, "Once the protagonist got out of the well, his spree of violence was able to continue."
4. Continue writing until you come to the end of the story or until the solution pops into your brain. If nothing else, you are writing the first draft. It is allowed to suck. It can have more holes than an afghan. It can have more terrible cliches than the previous sentence. The important thing is finishing.
Jason R. Richter
If I could travel back in time for totally selfish reasons, I would disabuse my younger self of the notion that inspiration is required to write. Inspiration can be defined as an idea, sure.
However, when people say "inspiration to write" they are usually talking about a semi-mystical experience where the hand of the gods opens your mind to the majesty of the universe. Leathery wings sprout from your shoulder blades and rockets you at near light speed through the cosmos with your hair on fire. I have experienced that. A handful of times.
It's not what writing is about. Inspiration is to writing what luck is to high-stakes poker. (I just watched Rounders again the other night.) Writing is a job. You set time aside to string words into sentences. The more you do it, the better you become.
However, when people say "inspiration to write" they are usually talking about a semi-mystical experience where the hand of the gods opens your mind to the majesty of the universe. Leathery wings sprout from your shoulder blades and rockets you at near light speed through the cosmos with your hair on fire. I have experienced that. A handful of times.
It's not what writing is about. Inspiration is to writing what luck is to high-stakes poker. (I just watched Rounders again the other night.) Writing is a job. You set time aside to string words into sentences. The more you do it, the better you become.
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