S.L. Schmitz's Blog, page 5

Will AMC’s The Walking Dead kill fan fav Daryl Dixon?

DON’T LET DARYL DIE.

Fans of AMC’s The Walking Dead have been uttering these same four words over and over for the past year, demanding that the writers and producers hear loud and clear that the viewing public is passionate about bad boy with a big heart Daryl Dixon. For a character who does not even exist in the original comic book series, this is quite an achievement.

According to GQ Magazine, following the cliffhanger midseason episode “The Suicide King”, Executive Producer Glen Mazzara has stated that “He gets tons of mail that’s like, “Don’t kill Daryl.” He was doing interviews and they asked, “So, you ready for Christmas?” and he’s like, “No, Christmas is going to suck. I’m gonna have hate mail all through the holidays.”

Norman Reedus is the main reason for all this ‘hate’ mail. People absolutely love his character, and no one wants the unpredicable writers on the show to kill off the bad boy with a heart of gold. Reedus has transformed Daryl from a secondary character to a fan favorite; fans are dazzled by his ability with a crossbow, his loyalty to the other survivors, and his endearing relationships with Carol and Carl. When Daryl cuddles baby Ass-Kicker and feeds her a bottle in episode 3.5 “Say the Word”, viewers all over the world swooned in delight and appreciation.

GQ reports that When The Walking Dead’s mid-season finale left Daryl Dixon’s life hanging in the balance until February, the Internet almost collapsed. And for good reason: All we wanted for Christmas was to know that Daryl was safe and sound—and, if it wasn’t too much to ask, to maybe see him playing Joseph to baby Judith’s Jesus in a prison nativity scene. Instead, we’re left listlessly trudging through the winter with haunting visions, recalling the premature departures of Jimmy Darmody and Ned Stark.

Our love of Daryl can be chalked up to the fact that Norman Reedus’s nuanced portrayal of the southern lone wolf with a heart of gold adds a depth that can make the other characters seem one-dimensional. Somehow, he shows up first on our lists for every hypothetical situation (ex: Who would you most want to get a beer with? Who would you want with you in a knife fight? Who would you want to discuss the intricacies of Love Actually with?) In an exclusive interview, GQ caught up with Reedus, the actor who, armed with a crossbow and a scowl, has slaughtered his way into America’s apple-pie heart.”

After February 10, 2013′s return to AMC airwaves, fans of Daryl were forced to watch him walk off into the woods with his brother, leaving Rick staring after him with a longing I’m-going-bonkers gaze.

And what about Carol? That’s right, I said it. Daryl left her hanging back at the prison, and my homegirl is strong, but may not be that strong. If she ends up being the purported suicide later in the season, I will just not forgive the writers.

Want to turn us away? Want to cause viewership mayhem? Kill Daryl and Carol. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Filed under: About Me Tagged: #walkingdead, #walkingdixons, Daryl Dixon, Don't Let Daryl Die, Norman Reedus, SL Schmitz, The Walking Dead

Walking the Dead Through Bowie’s Berlin

There is good news and there is bad news.

The good news is that today is January 8, 2013 and David Bowie is officially 66 years old today. He’s a little worn, a little rumpled, with a few extra pounds around his small frame – but he looks good. A new photo has been released, and he looks marvelous. Rock royalty. An ancient musical god reclaiming his throne amid today’s throwaway pop ballads and wannabe hipster rants.

Now for the bad news – he dropped a new single and music video today titled “Where Are We Now”, and it is… well, it just is. The song just lays there in a puddle of German montages, while Bowie sings a travelogue highlighting Berlin’s most notable tourist attractions in a quavering, emotionless voice. But where is the real passion? I want the throaty banshee wail echoing off of crumbling communist headstones, but instead I get melodramatic puppy eyes, a sheep in sheep’s clothing with an instrumental that is barely memorable.

In the 1970’s, Bowie’s Berlin was the most magical of places. From this time period of soul searching and intrinsic career chrysalis, he kicked a cocaine habit while simultaneously recording the critically acclaimed album Low with Brian Eno and Tony Visconti. These three musical geniuses created an avant-garde sound so haunting, so transcendent, complete with made up languages, poetic instrumentals, and synthesized percussion that interweaves itself perfectly into the caverns of the hard, solemn, unforgiving German city. Within the mutated butterfly wings of Low, the city and the songs embrace and become one, opening windows into an Eastern European flavor that Bowie does not often revisit.

“Where Are We Now” is not a satisfying tribute to any of Low’s glory. It does not have the pain of “Warszawa”, the bite of “Always Crashing in the Same Car”. It feels like Bowie is gumming the song instead of tearing at it with his teeth –

But I digress. I am so glad that my beautiful Rock God is back in the spotlight. His new album, The Next Day, drops in March and there are rumors of a tour. Let’s hope that the rest of the album has more of an edge to it, and hold our breath in anticipation in case Iman (the QVC princess of faux leather handbags) allows him out of the house long enough to make some guest appearances on all the late night talk shows and maybe even SNL.

I’d just be happy with some more pictures.

Filed under: About Me Tagged: Always Crashing in the Same Car, Berlin, Bowie 66 years old, Bowie's Berlin, Brian Eno, David Bowie, Low, SL Schmitz, Tony Visconti, Warszawa, Where Are We Now

Nerine Dorman’s Year in Review

One of the great people I have had the opportunity to get to know over the past two years is South African author and editor Nerine Dorman. Her popular blog This is My World has plenty of author interviews, WIP updates, opinion pieces, and reflections on music. Check out her recently published year in review.

  I first met Nerine on Facebook back in 2010, and she graciously agreed to read and review my novel “Let It Bleed“. She liked it (whew!), and we found out that we had a lot of things in common. Voila! Social media friendship success story!

Since then, our working relationship has continued to grow and expand. In January 2011, right before I exited from Dark Continents Publishing, one of the last projects I launched (with the divine Ms. Tracie McBride) was the successful Darkness and Dismay series of e-book novellas which included Nerine and her co-author/co-partner-in-crime Carrie Clevenger’s Blood and Fire. Simultaneously, Nerine was editing the South African Horrorfest’s Bloody Parchment: Lost Things, Hidden Things and Other Stories, which happens to have my story “The Woman Who Sold the World” in it.           

Next year, I’m looking forward to reading Blackfeather and Camdeboo Nights from this talented author. Keep up the incredible work, girl!

Filed under: About Me Tagged: Blood and Fire, Carrie Clevenger, Let It Bleed, Nerine Dorman, SL Schmitz, South African Horror Fest, Tracie McBride, vampire

Tangled, Blue

Just sharing an accomplishment that I am rather proud of-

My story “Tangled, Blue” has been published in the newest issue of Dark Moon Digest. Issue 10 of this Horror Fiction Quarterly was published December 13, 2012 by Dark Moon Books, and is available for purchase on Amazon.

The editors at this magazine are first rate – I ca’t wait to read some of the other stories featured in this issue. Hope you check it out.

Filed under: About Me Tagged: Amazon, Dark Moon Digest, horror magazine, SL Schmitz

Blinded by the Light

Hello, friends.

One of my all-time favorite subjects to discuss and contemplate is religious arcana and ancient mysteries. I am particularly fond of obscure theories or mythologies which attempt to explain the unexplainable, and will spend hours trying to analyze and understand what people with much higher IQs then my own have presented as fact.

World creationism myths, European royal lineage intrigues, Gnosticism, paganism, paranormal and UFO conspiracies, secret government societies… I love it all. But the one subject that I am truly passionate about is the scholarly debate surrounding most Catholic/Judaic/Christian Arcanum which claims to prove/disprove or reveal academic insight into the origins of religion and religious demagoguery. Brian Allan discusses the Shroud of Turin in his excellent article Christ, The Shroud, and The Rainbow Body first printed in Brian Allan’s Voodoo Visions from Paranormal Magazine.

Within the context of his article, he gives considerable attention to the many legitimate theories which exist regarding the fabled Shroud, and provides interesting details on several scientific studies which indicate that UV light effects DNA, thus indicating that a photographic image could be created if the subject matter emitted enough light and enegry in a single, intense moment.

Allan explains the information in easy-to-read language, and withholds his own opinions on the subject. A unique and carefully written essay that allows the reader to make their own decisions about the legitimacy of the Shroud of Turin.

Filed under: About Me Tagged: Brian Allan's Voodoo Visions, Buddhist, Knights of Templar, Paranormal Magazine, SL Schmitz, The Rainbow Body, The Shroud of Turin, Veronica's Veil

Beloved Bookstore Cats

Shakespeare Bookshop opposite Notre Dame

There is nothing more comforting then a bookstore – unless it is an independent bookstore with a cat mascot. In her recent article about 10 Excellent Bookstore Cats, Miss Cellania treats her readers to international list of beautiful felines who live among the stacks of books in their various bookstores.

With names like “Trouble” and “Spike”, these cats have developed passionate followings in their communities. Many of them have their own twitter accounts and Facebook pages. After all, if you have to follow someone’s tweets, why not follow a book-loving cat who makes reading recommendations and lists their hobblies as ‘eating and sleeping’?

The topic of cats and bookstores generates lots of hits on the search engines. Want to meet a few more delightful literary feline friends? Check out this article featuring Cleo from the bookstore of my Alma Mater in Manhattan, KS and  this one about NYC bookstore cats. The LA Times has a sweet photographic essay featuring books and the cats that love them. Enjoy meeting these kitty superstars, and let me know if I’ve missed your favorite cat from your favorite bookstore!

Filed under: About Me Tagged: Bookstore Cats, cats who live in bookstores, literary cats, SL Schmitz

All of Our Houses Are Haunted

I just deleted over 20,000 words from my current work in progress, The Seven Lord Ravens.

I have had a heavy heart about a certain transitional chapter, and upon reflection I simply had to admit that it was not working. The words were wooden, the characters stiff, the content implausible. With a strong, practical hand I deleted two chapters and some background info, with intent to let it go until I am finished with other, more important chapters. I am such a non-lineral writer that I find it easier to move from beginning to end and back to beginning before filling out the middle. In this instance, it makes sense to flesh out the meatier chapters and then later, when I have more of path, I can handle the middle.

The Seven Lord Ravens has been a work in progress for too long, and I am anxious to see it come to a closure. I am following the original scaffolding of the Grimm Brothers tale, but am adding additional layers of myth and horror. This process has been heavy and slightly bitter - the words have come slowly, and I am in fear that they are too porous. In an effort to add weight and substance, I am forced to eliminate fluff and impracticality. Oh, well. I’m not the first author and certainly won’t be the last to throw dirty bathwater out the window.

Here are a few words that I kept:

 

The Crimson Queen

I have received a letter from a woman I once called ‘mother’; it arrived this morning by a carrier hawk. The paper is very light, smelling faintly of lavender and wood shavings; if I press on it too hard with my thumb and forefinger, it will crumble. My given name is written at the top of the page; I stare at it for several long moments. My childhood name has been lost to me, not dared to be uttered in my presence for many years. To see it again, bare and open on the page, stirs an old emotion that perplexes me. I am curious, but wary.

“To My Dearest Abrin”, it begins. I am surprised to hear from this old woman whom I once loved, but now only vaguely remember. Something is either terribly wrong, or else she has encountered a situation which she thinks I might take an interest in. Grażyna Nicolaevna Kotov above all understands the error of my appetites, and would only contact me if something particularly useful to my situation crossed her path.  I unfold the paper, and begin to read.

To My Dearest Abrin,

I need you to come and save your mother. A farmer and his wife have paid me a visit, and they have threatened to bring me before the Church of the Seven Kingdoms on accusations of witchcraft. You know what will happen to me if they put me in the prisons. I am old. I need your help.

They have offered me a way out – if I can get the wife pregnant with a female child, they will forgive me and never bother me again. Abrin, dearest daughter, you know that that is not within my ability. But it is within yours.

I implore you to travel home and save me from a merciless fate. They have wealth and power in the village, and seven sons to work their farm. Seven sons… but they are not satisfied. They desire a daughter, and will surrender much to obtain their dream. If you come, they will not be able to deny your authority. They will learn not to threaten helpless old women, as I know that you have ways of dealing with their kind.

In memories and love,

Mama

 

Can it be done? I wonder when I am finished, my cold heart fluttering in my chest. It would take a most powerful spell, a deep and intentional capturing of body and spirit in order to fulfill this violet promise. To do such a task, to grant such a request… the entire situation is absurd. An ancient old crone that I barely remember summoning me home to that backwater village on the other side of the mountains? I laugh, and my sharp incisors press into the soft skin of my tattooed lips. My first instinct is call upon the guards, send them galloping towards my mother and her tormentors with intent to provide instantaneous silence to the whole lot of them; but I am not completely immune to the plea for help from my mother. I don’t like the idea that the useless Church Elders might threaten her with Witchfinders or an inquisition, as if I had no control over either of those circumstances. Even though the memories of my human life are faint, they are not entirely forgotten.

But I find the sordid soap opera of the affair to be quite dull and boring. I do not care to know anymore about the wife’s situation, or why she wants a daughter so badly, nor do I feel any empathy for the old woman with her lengthy history of enemies and sorceries gone awry. There will always be mothers and children and mourning and loss… giving and taking… receiving and sacrificing… And I am not impressed with the pitiful tithing of illiterate farmers; I have no use for physical possessions. I live in a glass palace, high on a glass mountain, surrounded by all of the jewels and furs and servants that befit my role as the consort of a king. What would I do with a field of grain or a herd of cattle?

But there were words here, in the context of the letter, which caught my attention. “Seven sons,” my mother wrote. “They already have seven sons, but they are not satisfied. They desire a daughter, and will surrender much to obtain their dream.”

I exhale. The moon is large in the night sky, and the clouds are transparent. A thought is forming, igniting and burning in my breast, and I smile with razor teeth. I have obtained so much since the initial sacrifice, and yet…

The Goblin’s prophecy had been swift and effortless; I am the wife of the Vampire King. I reign in a kingdom of blood and holograms; all fear me, and all avoid my gaze. I am the Queen of a kingdom of Death, a world that only comes alive after the sun has gone down. I have a crown and a throne and a husband who visits me at his convenience; he is an immortal that plays games with his minions under the fullness of the midnight moon. I am one of the few to have ever seen his face; I find his eyes hypnotizing. But I need new entertainments. There are only so many hunts that one can participate in, only so many deaths one can witness.

So now, via my mother’s letter, an opportunity has come to me from the village of Briarthorne in the southern part of the empire. Suddenly, the words become bright and shiny. An idea is forming at the base of my spine, and it twists and curls around my vertebrae like a creeping parasite. I find myself drawn to this saga, and this village again, but not to bring peace. Never that! Instead, I have been offered the chance to go and mingle among the humans again, dabble in the glorious emotions of pain and desire and throbbing carotid veins. A chance to take times seven what has already been taken from me.

But first – I must see this mother’s face, and know that she understands the depth of her requests, the consequences of what she is offering and the repercussions of what I shall take.

 Tomorrow, at dusk, I will leave this valley and travel back to my ancestral home. There are blood deals to be made which can only be sanctioned when gazing into one another’s souls. I call to my servants to pack my necessities for the task into the King’s carriage, and rise to prepare myself for the journey.

Filed under: About Me

We Could Be Heroes – Just for One Day

November 6, 2012 is a big day.

I don’t care who you are or who you vote for – just vote.

OK, I kinda do care who you vote for, but that’s not the point of today’s post.

This is a Democratic nation, and we must never, never grow complacent over our freedoms. Just as education is the key to a greater nation, Democracy is what keeps the nation great.

So for all those people out there with excuses about why they can’t get to the polls on Tuesday, here is my reply: get a ride, figure out your polling place, no you do not need a driver’s license, and register on line, idiot.

Blessings to all-

Stephanie

Filed under: About Me Tagged: Democracy, election day, heroes, vote

David Bowie Alive and Well (for now)

Everyone take a deep breath – David Bowie has been spotted walking down the streets of New York on October 18,2012.

He was not a hologram, or a ghost, or even a 4D version of himself. It was really him, the original Thin White Duke, looking reasonably healthy and unencumbered in a plain blue hoodie and beret.

There was no evidence that he was making an escape attempt from the clutches of that Home Shopping Network vixen Iman, nor did it appear that he was dragging a heart monitor or IV behind him. Looking well-nourished, but sporting a bit of an old man’s  chin wattle (this is one celebrity who does not beleive in plastic surgery or botox), Bowie still looks good.

Let’s face it – Ziggy Stardust was the one and only vampire who will ever be allowed to sparkle.

Glad to see him out and about. Just wish he would use some of those magic powers and give a new interview or travel the talk show circuit. A novel would be good, too. Bet he has a lot of great stories to tell – and I’m not talking autobiography, either.

Filed under: About Me Tagged: David Bowie, Jareth, sparkly vampires, Thin White Duke

Bill the Cat for President 2012

It’s tempting to get all political and shout my views from the tallest mountain… but really? Who wants to listen to all that drama?

Bill the Cat for President 2012.

I understand that his pledge to the American people is something along the line of “Hey, if you want the worst… why not try me first?”

Yep. It could happen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Filed under: About Me