Joel Arnold's Blog, page 8

Why Horror?

 I was one of those kids with a closet full of living, breathing monsters, bogeymen and your general serial killer-types, waiting to creep out and do their worst to me as soon as my parents fell asleep. The reason I’m still alive is surely attributable to those early years of constant vigilance and my insistence on keeping the hall light on. My parents also had a role in my survival, in that I often made them check the closet and prove to me that there was nothing hiding in there. The inhabitants of the closet always seemed to sense them coming, however, since they were never present when Mom or Dad opened the closet and put on a show for me of shuffling the rack of clothes and reaching to the back to touch the bare wall. I also did much checking under the bed. What would’ve happened if there actually had been a monster, bogeyman or serial killer, I don’t know – but at least I would’ve seen it coming.

So how did that child version of me soon fall in love with the horror genre? I don’t know exactly, but maybe I learned that watching horror movies or reading horror novels and stories was a way to be able to control the frights. I could always close the book or magazine, or turn off the television.

Or could I?

That’s one of the great things about horror – sometimes you know you should stop watching or reading if you want to get a decent night’s sleep, but you can’t. There’s no way to stop; the narrative keeps dragging you along, kicking and screaming, and won’t let you out of its grip until the end.

But usually, when it does finally let you go, you realize that you’re still safe. The book or the movie or the magazine didn’t kill you, it didn’t eviscerate or disembowel you while you weren’t looking. And that’s pretty damn cool. And believe me, you need to be safe and whole to keep vigilant against the monsters who live in the closet and under the bed.

Cowboy Cthulhu - a poem

This poem originally appeared in the very cool magazine (imo) Black Ink, and also appears in my collection Fetal Position & Other Stories. And yes, it is a bit tongue in cheek.




Cowboy Cthulhu
By Joel Arnold


Deep within the midnight ink of ocean
upon a Cyclopean nest of rock
Cthulhu sits waiting, dreaming
of being –
A cowboy

He squats upon steeds dragged braying from the apocalypse,
and mosies across the ocean currents
with chaps fashioned from the cool hide of squid,
a Stetson coaxed from the leather of whales.
His spurs jingle, jangle, jingle
a pestilent ditty that drove Azerhed mad,
while four barnacle-cloaked rustlers
scour R’lyeh on bony nightmare feet.

He awaits the alignment of sea-tarnished stars,
and on cool autumnal nights warms himself
over the volcanic heat of telegraphed nightmares.
He smokes cigarettes rolled
from the skins of drowned sailors,
strums tunes on a guitar made of
shipwreck timber and strung tentacles,
lusts for the feel of saddle-horn and stirrup,
the taste of burnt beans and tin-pot coffee,
the smell of rusting barbed wire and blood-soaked rawhide.

When he opens his beak-like maw,
whirlpools birth on the distant surface,
barnacles crumble and octopi burst,
and the thin shellac of sanity melts
from those who dare listen.
The brine-infused dead rise from their vast trenches
and dance, as his fearsome yodel erupts;

Yippi ki yi, ki yi, ki yi!
Yippi ki yi, ki yi, ki yi!
Yippi ki yi, ki yi, ki yi!
Fhtagn!

My CONvergence 2011 Schedule

CONvergence, which takes place in Bloomington, MN over the July 4th weekend, is one of those cons I look forward to every year. If you like fantasy, horror, sci-fi, steampunk, anime, and/or parties - I highly recommend it. Plus it's fairly close to home (and in fact within walking distance from my day job) so there's only a little extra expense for gas.  Here are the CONvergence panels I'll be on this year:


July 1, 2:00 PM
Essential Elements of Horror Literature
About: The pieces that go into writing a truly bone-chilling/effective work of horror fiction. Elements that horror writers have ready in their tool box every time they sit down at the keyboard.
Speaker/Artist(s) Info: Brian Keene, Richard Ristow, Roy C. Booth, Tim Lieder, Joel Arnold

July 1, 10:00 PM
Why Do We Enjoy Being Scared?
About: Boo! Did we scare you? Did you like it?????? Why horror in all it's forms continues to be popular and why it always will.
Speaker/Artist(s) Info: Brian Keene, Sarah Harmon, Dana Baird, Melissa Kaercher, Joel Arnold

July 2, 3:30 PM
The End of Bookstores?
About:
With e-books, possible mergers between Borders and Barnes & Noble, and other economic and cultural changes, what happens to bookstores? How do readers and authors adapt? Will books survive the digital transition?
Speaker/Artist(s) Info:
Richard Ristow, Catherine Lundoff, Michael Lee, Joel Arnold, Rob Callahan

July 3, 11:00 AM
Signing
This is when I'll be sitting at the signing table. Please stop by and say hello!

July 3, 12:30 PM
Reading
I'll be giving a reading in the Lit Lounge up on the 22nd floor. Come on up! 

Zen & the Art of Swearing

 Okay, this really has nothing to do with Zen, but it is about swearing.

I seem to have a split personality when it comes to swearing. I swear in my writing a lot. I swear in my head a lot. But whenever I’m in front of people, I don’t swear unless it’s the necessary part of a joke I’m telling, and even then, when I utter the curse word, it comes out with a bit of a childish, embarrassed emphasis on it, sort of whispering the word as if I’m somehow disappointing my parents, even though they’re far out of earshot.

A certain brother-in-law of mine however (love ya, Mitch!) swears so much, I don’t think he even realizes it. He can’t get a sentence out without at least a couple f-bombs sprinkled in. Doesn’t matter if kids or the elderly are present. And if you’ve been around him enough, you hardly even hear the swearing. In fact, if he didn’t swear for a couple sentences in a row, you’d be like, “Dude, are you okay? What’s wrong?” And he’d most likely answer, “Nothin’s fuckin’ wrong. Why the fuck do you fuckin’ ask?” His swearing isn’t mean-spirited in any way, either - it’s just part of his essence. Mitch without peppering his language with variations of the word fuck would be like Jesse Ventura neglecting to mention he was a Navy Seal. Something would just seem...off.

I was fortunate to have had a great childhood, wonderful parents and siblings, but one memory that I’ll sometimes look back upon with fondness and amusement is from when I was a preschooler over at a friend’s house, and we were out swinging on his swing-set, and we just started swearing. With each swing forward, we’d take turns shouting out a swear word. Damn! Shit! Pee! Hell! I don’t think we used ‘fuck’ but we might have. Aw, heck, why not – let’s say we shouted out ‘fuck’ too. Makes for a more colorful memory.
Anyway, there was something freeing and joyous about that, about swinging on the swing-set and yelling out swear words at the top of our lungs. It was energizing, invigorating – we were in the moment, one with the universe. Hey, there you are, Zen!

Eventually his mom heard us, and I’m guessing he got in trouble (he was called into his house with a stern voice, at the very least.)

But if you’re ever feeling down and out, I recommend going somewhere safe – preferably where no one else can hear you – and just start yelling out swear words at the top of your lungs. An abandoned quarry works well (great echo effect!) as does the inside of your car. Just make sure it’s done with joy – not anger – and I bet you’ll feel better after awhile. And if for some reason you’re arrested for disorderly conduct or causing a public nuisance – you didn’t hear it from me, fuckos!

Those Times When Autism Sucks

Rough week with Zach. For the kids' birthday, our family and relatives went together on a trampoline for our backyard, and Zach loves it. He's already spent hours on the thing. This is great, because lately, he's been sneaking off without saying anything, taking off to the neighborhood park. It's close by, but aside from not letting us know where he's going, he also has gotten into a bit of trouble there. Things like just peeing wherever he feels like it, discarding his clothes, trying to ride other kids' bikes that are there - and screaming and hitting if they try to take their bike back. Neighbors have been very helpful and understanding, but still - he just can't be doing that stuff. And he's very stealthy at sneaking out.

But so - the trampoline has at least kept him in our backyard longer. A few times, we'll look out, and he's just jumping in his underwear, but we've got a privacy fence, so we don't think it's a big deal. Except...last week when he escaped the backyard (we have the gates locked, but he apparently figured those out, or we forgot to lock them) in his underwear. A neighborhood girl came over and let us know he was in the park in his underwear, and by the time Melissa went over there, she found him walking on the sidewalk and starting to walk out onto the busy street next to the sidewalk. Cars were pulled over and people were honking, shouting at him, but he completely ignored them. Melissa grabbed him and walked him home, and then a police car shows up at our house, because of course, when you see an eight-year old boy walking out into the busy street in his underwear, you know something ain't quite right. 

The policeman was very kind and understanding - he just wanted to make sure Zach was home safe.

95% of the time, Zach is very easy going, very sweet, etc, but sometimes this crap happens, and it scares and depresses the shit out of you.

If Coffee Shops were Run by Airlines

Barista: Welcome to Delta Coffee - how may I help you?
Customer 1: I'd like a medium regular coffee.
Barista: That'll be 1.85.  Thank you!

Barista: Welcome to Delta Coffee - how may I help you?
Customer 2: I'd like a medium regular coffee.
Barista: That's be 8.95. Thank - 
Customer 2: Wait, what? That other guy got the same thing and it was only 1.85.
Barista: Well, as you can see, that particular coffee pot now holds less coffee, so we need to charge a different amount.
Customer 2: But - 
Barista: Oh, I see you brought your laptop. Will you be using that here?
Customer 2: Yes.
Barista: Than I need to charge you a 5.00 laptop/table-use fee.
Customer 2: But - 
Barista: Sorry, but I don't have any control over what we charge.
Customer 2 (reluctantly handing over credit card): Okay. Barista: Welcome to Delta Coffee - how may I help you?Customer 3: I'd like a medium regular coffee.Barista: That'll be 4.95....

Stuff n' Such

It's been a while since I've posted on my journal. Have I been holed up in a secret bunker, forced to provide a secret formula to some super villain? Have I been plotting my revenge on those who unknowingly and unwittingly somehow deserve it in my own messed up fantasy world? Have I been laying the groundwork for a scheme so diabolical, so insidious, that it may cause a giant rip in the fabric of space and time?

Of course not. I mean, hey, it's me - Joel. I'm not that bright.


But I do have a free story in Chizine if you'd like to read it. Chizine (aka Chiaroscuro) is a wonderful ezine that has published the likes of Neil Gaiman, Stewart O'Nan, Peter Crowther, Tim Lebbon and Tom Piccirilli.

Autistic License by Stacey Dinner-Levin

Just wanted to give a shout out to my wife, Melissa, who has published the script of Stacey Dinner-Levin's wonderful award-winning play Autistic License. You can purchase a trade paperback version here or an e-version here for your Kindle or here for your Nook.

Of course, the best way to experience Autistic License is to see it live, so if you're in Minnesota and would like to see it, it will be presented by the Blank Slate Theatre from June 23rd - June 26th. 

Here's the address:

Lowry Lab Theater
350 St. Peter Street
St. Paul, MN

Here's a blurb about the play:

"Back by popular demand! Nothing can prepare a parent for a child's diagnosis with a disability. In AUTISTIC LICENSE, playwright Stacey Dinner-Levin chronicles her family's journey to raise a son with autism, from the impact the disability has had on her marriage and family to the best and the worst behavior of people who encounter her son in the outside world. As the story unfolds, Dinner-Levin's character gains an understanding and appreciation of her son's uniqueness, as well as greater depth as a woman and mother."

Here's a trailer for the play.

On a personal note, as a father with a child who has autism, this play really moved me. I've seen it about five times, and every time its honesty and poignancy has amazed me. One of the best things about it, imo, is that it show us that not only are we not alone, but there is light at the end of the tunnel, and much joy to be found along the way.

Green Berets Vs. Platoon

 I also watched two Vietnam war movies a few weekends ago; Platoon and The Green Berets. As one can imagine, they are very different from each other.

The Green Berets, released in 1968, stars John Wayne and is basically a propaganda film, where all the Americans are well intentioned, fighting for the noble purpose of saving the Vietnamese children from the dark forces of communism. I’ve never understood why John Wayne is so revered by part of our society as a strong role model of American machismo; he’s always seemed to be just a short jog away from a heart attack, and whenever he talks, I can’t help but hear the death knell of cancer in his lungs. Don’t get me wrong – the characters he plays are often likable, and he’s got screen presence, but I’ve just never seen him as the epitome of American maleness.

Platoon, made in 1986, stars Charlie Sheen (go ahead and snicker, but he was really good in this movie), and was sort of Oliver Stone’s response to movies like The Green Berets. I remember when this movie first came out hearing that a lot of Vietnam vets had very strong emotional reactions to it – they felt like it portrayed the fear, tension, and chaos they’d experienced quite realistically. In this movie, the characters have flaws, and there’s a lot of moral ambiguity. There’s also a lot of Lord of the Flies in this movie; you got kids, basically, who are dropped off in a remote area and throw their allegiance to one of two leaders, Sgt. Barnes (Tom Berenger) who represents our evil side, and Sgt. Elias (Willem Dafoe), who represents our good side. Dafoe even strikes a very Christ-like pose at one point when he’s gunned down. I like how this movie portrays the confusion of this war – like how when they get attacked, everything happens so fast that it’s hard to know what is actually going on. I like moral ambiguity in my movies. And I really liked this movie.

But I gotta confess…I also enjoyed The Green Berets in a guilty pleasure sorta way. Maybe it’s because I originally saw this as a kid before my critical brain kicked in, when things seemed much more black and white, when I didn’t question (or even notice) that the flora in the movie consisted of pine trees instead of palm trees (it was filmed in the U.S.) and when I woulda been shocked – shocked I tell you! – if you would’ve even suggested that the Village People were gay.

Recent Movie Viewing Pleasure

 I watched a few horror movies via Netflix over the last few days; The Legend of Hell House (1973), Let the Right One In (Swedish version) and The Last House on the Left (original version from 1972).

I’d seen The Legend of Hell House a long time ago, and had forgotten much of it. It’s beautifully shot, and has decent acting, especially from Roddy McDowall. I found the ending, where it reveals the source of the goings-on, to be truly creepy.

Last House on the Left was Wes Craven’s directorial debut. Much of it seems rather amateurish, and parts of it are very disturbing (which was the intention.) Not sure how I feel about this one. It’s your basic revenge film, but the doings of the bad guys seem to be filmed with such glee, I felt like the director was being a tad over-indulgent. It could be argued that he was showing how incredibly awful the villains were in order to make the revenge parts that much sweeter, but it almost felt like the filmmakers were enjoying the torture scenes a little too much. I’d contrast it with the torture/ear scene in Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs – while that particular scene was very disturbing, it seemed to really work in the context of that particular movie.

Of the three movies, my favorite by far was Let the Right One In. I found this to be a wonderful, refreshingly original movie, especially for a vampire flick. It takes place around Stockholm, Sweden, during the winter, and the settings are all very bland and cold – except there is almost always some red object in the scene, which makes a cool and deliberate contrast to all the whiteness. All of the characters were portrayed very realistically – even the bullies who antagonize the main character. The young actors playing the two main characters, both twelve years old (although one, as she says, has been twelve for a very long time) were wonderful. The horror in this movie comes mainly from the (non-vampire) bullies. While the vampire in the movie is certainly capable of horrific deeds, she’s also very sympathetic. And the scene in the pool near the end of the movie is brilliant! Highly recommended.