Travis Thrasher's Blog, page 16

To The Fine Folks at HBO, AMC, Netflix & Other Cable Channels

To the fine folks at HBO, AMC, Netflix, or any other awesome cable channel:
I think you might want to consider The Solitary Tales as your next True Detective or Breaking Bad or Lost.
I used to think wow how cool would that be to see these made into some big, epic film series. But the world doesn’t operate like that unless you have a Twilight or a Hunger Games and these books are not those.
The Solitary Tales is my four-book teen series about a junior in high school moving to a creepy town called Twin Peaks. Oops, no, I mean Solitary, North Carolina.
He falls for the wrong girl and then . . . well, all hell breaks loose.             Book one ends with a doozy of a cliffhanger. I imagine Season One on a cable show could end this way, with viewers going what the --- did I just watch??            I’ve always thought that my series would make good television. But now, after having watched and loved and been totally enthralled by True Detective, I no longer just think this. I know so.
Ritualistic Satanic murders? Oh, we got that.
Dark, troubled souls? Oh, we have that too.
But what if you combined some of the creepy vibe of True Detective and mixed it with Twilight? Minus the shiny vampires?
This is how I pitched it. Except I said think Pretty in Pink meets The Exorcist. Yes, I’m a child of the 80’s.
The great thing is this: you don’t have preconceived notions of what’s going on since this series is (if anything) some kind of underground cult classic. People won’t recognize it and that’s cool. You shape it into something new but the same.
Actually, get me to do that.
Oh, wait . . . oh, I know. You’re looking at some of the reviews and some of the write ups and you see this whole Christian-faith-fiction-thing talked about. Don’t let that scare you.
I think it should intrigue you. Seriously.
You mix the light with the dark. That’s what I do.
It’s a good idea. I no longer just wonder this. I believe it.
There are so many derivative things out there now. The heart of The Solitary Tales comes from a kid who finds himself in a strange place and has no clue what to do. And he finds comfort and hope in some beautiful stranger he suddenly is infatuated with.
So consider The Solitary Tales. Put it on your radar. Put ME on your radar.
Maybe one day I’ll break out with a Twilight/Hunger Games of my own.
Don’t you want to say you discovered me before that? It’s always cooler to have said you loved The Smiths when nobody else heard of them instead of liking them after they’re popping up on all the Best-Ever lists.
So come on. Check the books out. Don’t wait.
How soon is now? 

The Rust Cohle Redemption

The eighth and final episode of True Detective airs tonight. I’ve been a fan ever since seeing the first trailer of this series on HBO. I’ve enjoyed the masterful storytelling and truly been in awe of the acting, particularly by Matthew McConaughey. For someone I stopped being excited by around the time of The Wedding Planner, his resurgence as an A-level actor (dubbed “McConaughnnaisance”) has been remarkable.
So tonight, the world will watch to get answers. Who is the Yellow King? Where is this Carcosa? How will it end? One could spend a whole week reading all the blogs and online pages that have been devoted to talking about these questions.
I want the answers, too. But I’m not watching the show for them. I’m watching to see the journeys of two broken, messed-up men. I’m curious how they’ll end. 
I love stories like this. And anybody who knows my writing knows I’ve written over twenty books about troubled souls like Rust Cohle and Marty Hart.
So how would I end the series? Let me share. Obviously this is all spoiler territory, so if you haven’t watched all seven of the episodes, I wouldn’t read on (not that I’ll be going into too much of those details).
The character I love and am fascinated by is Rust. We first see him as a wounded and wrecked man back in 1995. His life has gone downhill ever since his daughter was killed by a drunk driver and his marriage fell apart. Seventeen years later, he’s fully broken. There’s no going back for this man. There’s no hope left. Right?
I don’t think so. And I would have made this series about the redemption of Rust Cohle.
Yes, sure. Maybe that’s hoping for too much. But I love stories like this. And if you think I’m alone, just see where The Shawshank Redemption rates on the favorite films of all time. That was a dark film, but it had hope at the end.
But how could Rust be redeemed?
Let me share a few thoughts.
I think that Rust might have been the one to run over his daughter. We know he loves to drink, and maybe he was soused when he had a horrible and tragic accident. And that’s when his world ended. That’s when the dark, bleak, black hole of his soul was created. The shell of a man who would say something like this:
“I think about my daughter now, and what she was spared. Sometimes I feel grateful. The doctor said she didn't feel a thing; went straight into a coma. Then, somewhere in that blackness, she slipped off into another deeper kind. Isn't that a beautiful way to go out, painlessly as a happy child? Trouble with dying later is you've already grown up. The damage is done, it's too late.”
So for Rust, we think and assume it’s too late. And for many writers, they’d go with that, believing it in their heart. Ernest Hemingway, for instance, certainly thought this. It was reflected in all of his writing and ultimately in his own life when he took a shotgun and killed himself.
I don’t think it’s too late for anybody, however, including our beloved Rust. 
What I would do is make this whole story—the whole investigation and Rust’s involvement—be about getting him to the point of not only finding who murders these young girls but allowing him to find forgiveness for his sins. For his one sin of what he did to his daughter.
So some of the mysteries and the unexplained things would be supernatural. We would learn that it’s his daughter that’s been communicating to him from the grave.
Oh, yes, I know. A lot of people would roll their eyes and picture Ghost or something like that. Something corny.
To me, someone like Rust would have to go to the darkest of places—to Carcosa—before finding redemption. And that’s what would happen in my ending. I don’t see redemption for Marty. I see Marty discovering things have happened to his daughters and those he know might be involved—particularly his father-in-law—and Marty can’t take it. I see Marty killing others and then ending his life. For Marty, I’d pick the Hemingway ending. Short, brutal, the end.
And then and only then, in the bloody aftermath when all hope is gone, when the killers have been found but for what? Lives have been burned up and blown away like ashes in the wind. But Rust stands there and only then ends up realizing his daughter has been communicating with him this whole time.
I would end the show with another one of Rust’s moments when he’s talking to someone and waxing poetic and sounding all crazy awesome. This time he’d be talking about his daughter. He’d mention a time when she got angry at him and lashed out and now was crying. (I’m picturing her about three or four years old). Then Rust came to her and picked her up and kissed her and told her everything was going to be okay. He said everything would be fine and that he forgave her. ‘Cause that’s what fathers do. (I mean--picture McConaughey delivering this sort of final epiphany in Cohle's words--tears would be shedding everywhere.)
Yeah, obviously the story would serve as a metaphor. I would leave things like that, with Rust still alive and with him finding some bit of redemption.
To me, life isn’t about solving a mystery. Life is a mystery. The baggage of our youth, the pain of our mistakes, the people we encounter, the love we’re able to make, the joy we’re able to find, the faith we might be able to discover.
For those who don’t end up finding faith, then what’s the point? Life is hard enough with faith. Without it, then go ahead. Become a Rust Cohle in 2012 who’s given up.
I love bleak endings because they mirror life. Again, not all of my stories end with the whole “happily ever after” thing going on. And with True Detective, no matter how they end it, there is no happy ending for most of the people. Lives have been wrecked and ruined. Our messy heroes—what kind of hope can they find?
It brings to mind the two thieves on the cross next to Jesus. Both were criminals who deserved to hang there and die. One believed in the end, the other didn’t and ridiculed him. This could apply to Rust and Marty. Maybe. Perhaps.
“Get busy living or get busy dying.”
In my True Detective, Rust would finally be prompted to get busy living. And it would be his dead daughter doing so.
He wouldn’t have much time left. But you know . . . in light of eternity, how much do any of us have?

The Middle Mark

            Seeking the beginning, you worry about the starting gun.            Stuck in the middle, you want another out.             Swimming in the end, you wonder how it got this way.             It could be a tale, or a tune, or a beloved. The start is always the sweetest, the strongest, the least subtle. You burn bright, fearless, ferocious.             The middle is where the heart is made or broken.             A marathon. The mysteries, the blasted myths, the meandering.             You either buckle down or bow out.             Tenacious. Of course. Tattered in the breeze. Naturally. You weather on.             A paragraph at a time, a calendar page a day. The middle makes or breaks you, doesn’t it?             The ending—few can make it there and spell it out.             Most of us live in the middle.             That’s when it’s the toughest. When our natural ways feel like work.             “I want to do everything else except continue on.”            So says a bestselling author in the middle.             Not stuck but weathering on.             Beginnings bloom. Middle points muddle.             And endings, well . . .             They put to rest.             Sometimes endings can be good. The finishing point of a novel or a film or a painting.             But other endings can be painful.             So you stay stuck in the middle.             Hoping to survive.             Hoping to change it to one day thrive.             Hoping to keep alive.             The middle mark makes or breaks.             I want to make my soul every midnight hour.             Melt it down and make me move on.             Meet me at the crossroads.             Then motivate me to keep going. To keep trying. To finish and to finish well.             

Coldplay's New Song "Midnight"

            The new song begins to play. We hear the review we’re going to write before the song is even over. That’s the instant world we live in. And you know something? It’s sorta sad.             I remember when a song would come on the radio and the strange sounds would speak to me. Sometimes I wouldn’t know a thing about the band or the singer. All I could do was judge the song itself. I couldn’t look it up on the web or Google info on my phone. I had to simply listen to the song and let it . . . linger.             Oh, how times have changed.             Today, Coldplay released a new song called “Midnight.” Is it a new single? From a new album? These days does it even matter?             For Coldplay, the answer I believe is yes. Those things do matter.             For anybody who knows me, they realize I’m a diehard Coldplay fan. One of my books was as much a love letter to our firstborn daughter, Kylie, as it was an unabashed celebration of Coldplay’s music (Every Breath You Take). I stood ten people away from them in the center of the vast Lollapalooza crowd. They played right behind the seats my wife and I had during the Viva La Vida tour (the C-stage—check out my blog about it). I even attempted a whole Hunger Games series of YA books around their last album (calling the heroine Paradise of course).             So yeah, I’m a diehard.             But it’s easy to hate Coldplay. I guess when you get that big, you get that much hatred. One of my best buddies always texts me how much he can’t stand them. It’s too easy. I tell him to be more creative.             The thing I love about “Midnight” is the chance it’s taking. I’ve read today that it sounds like this and it’s a bad version of that. Come on. Don’t pop songs all emulate something? And can’t you take the things that move you the most and make them yours?             That’s what I feel Coldplay does.             Anyone who’s followed them carefully knows of their involvement with Brian Eno. But another important person who is equally important is Jon Hopkins. He makes beautiful, artful electronic music. Remember the song that opened Viva La Vida? Those warm bubbling synths that morph into the Coldplay signature sound? That was Jon Hopkins.             I saw on his Twitter today that yes, indeed, he was involved with some of the production of the new song.             So yeah. So what?             So this is why this fascinates me.             Coldplay took a lot of heat from their last record (when do they not take heat I guess?). It was too bombastic, some said. Too produced and manipulated. And, oh dear Heavens, there was a collaboration with pop star Rhianna!             Many people, including fans, seemed to say “Let’s get back to A Rush of Blood To The Head, guys.” And it could have been so easy, too.             Hey—for the Catching Fire album, they did do a very traditional Coldplay song.             But this single. They really are doing something different. Whether it sounds like whoever, it’s a remarkable departure for Coldplay.             It continues, I believe, the exploration they really started with Viva La Vida. And despite how amazing AROBTTH happens to be, or how much I loved Mylo Xyloto, after all this time, Viva La Vida still happens to be my favorite.             I love artists who take chances. I know what it’s like working for the big brother cooperation who sells art. When something’s working, the publisher DOES NOT WANT TO ROCK THE BOAT. Don’t change what works. That’s why you have a lot of artists get big and then seemingly coast. I know there are pressures they face that have to be incredible. Keep the dollars flowing. Keep the fans satisfied. Keep sailing. In the words of Pink Floyd, “And did we tell you the name of the game, boy? We call it Riding the Gravy Train.”            Well, “Midnight” definitely doesn’t ride the gravy train, boy.             Artists don’t begin to create in order to build brands and keep the crowds coming and ride the almighty gravy train. I think we all start because it’s a part of our being. We want to play with words, with colors, with sounds and shapes. We find ourselves moved by stories and songs. We feel their escape. We find their majesty.             We try to build to emulate those passions and those practices our childhoods brought. Yet so often, life trumps our innocence and wonder. It’s too impractical to be a musician playing on the road. It’s too improbable to support a family by writing. It’s always too much, so too often many fall by the wayside.             Yet for bands like Coldplay—the success stories we love to find—they surely are still growing. They’re still learning and loving and living and breathing.             By the sounds of “Midnight”, they not coasting either. They’re not riding the gravy train.             Whatever the new sound and the new year brings for my favorite band from London, I’m leaving a light on.             Can’t wait to see what the night will bring. 

Turn The Page

            Maybe ninety-nine times out of a hundred, it’s not going to happen. But sometimes, one hundred knocks on your door and walks into your living room. It sits down and smiles and asks if you’re ready.             When it does, then be ready.             Work hard and be willing to learn.             Be persistent and force yourself to be patient.             Don’t settle. That word is very dangerous. Settling means remaining okay with the now. Settling means remaining stuck in the now which quickly becomes the then. Settling means not working hard.             Dream. Don’t drive over the edge of the cliff doing so, but dream while you’re driving down the highway. See the open horizon and keep pressing toward the big, the bright, the endless blue.             Write down and record dreams. Goals. Desires. Foolish things nobody will ever see. They don’t have to see it. They don’t have to realize that all of those will probably never happen.             But sometimes, they do.             Occasionally you can write down a project and give yourself a twenty-five percent chance of it happening, knowing that’s probably twenty-percent too high. Knowing it’s a longshot on a page full of maybe’s and could be’s and possibilities.             Then you can find yourself reading an email and making a call and being presented with that very project you dreamt about. You don’t wait and watch in wonder. You get to work.             You find pleasure in somber or silly or scary stories. You weave them together. You find songs to match their soul. And you continue on.             Do you wish to continue this sort of dreaming and desiring? Then turn to page 42.             Do you feel content to stay in the now and not persist on? Then don’t turn the page.             I’m turning the pages today. And God willing, I’ll keep them turning.             And as always, I’ll be fascinated and surprised at what I’ll find. And willing and able to fill their margins full. 

Run Don't Walk

               It’s no pleasure thinking about profits            There’s a pain trying to produce publicity            The reason and the only point is to produce            The words that convey emotion and the stories that convey heartwork            Seal that soul and separate yourself            These things take a toil on you young man            Grapple in the fear            But don’t let it pull you down            The name and the noise and spotlight            All seem to be brilliant distractions            Find some kind of balance            But keep sprinting            Keep climbing            Keep dreaming            Keep on             Keep pointed in the prose            Stories that have been told before but not by you            Voices that have been uttered for totally other reasons than yours            Wrap your arms around these premises             And shake something special out of them            Hear this same steady melody            And tweak it take it break it formulate it do something new with it            Bring a voice and bring a vision and bring a heart and a soul             Then stay steady             Stay steady on this road full of voices and noises             Run don’t walk            Stay straight don’t fall            Remember            And look His way

Want To Read MARVELOUS?

            So I’m starting a new teen series this year called The Books of Marvella. The first book, Marvelous, comes out in May.             Some of you might have read The Solitary Tales. The Books of Marvella is a sister series to The Solitary Tales. It’s very different in terms of characters and tone and storyline, but in the big picture it’s in the same world.             So I’m asking for some help from some of you.             The publisher has asked for endorsers. I have lot of views on this, one being that unless you get some huge name to endorse a book, blurbs don’t really matter.             At the same hand, people read those blurbs.             So I asked if I could get some of my fans to read Marvelous and share some of their thoughts.             Interested?             If you are, send me an email at travisthrasher@mac.com. I’ll send you a PDF of the manuscript.             They would need an endorsement by February 7. Short notice but hopefully you’ll enjoy the book enough to devour it!             Anybody providing a blurb will receive a complimentary copy of the actual book when it releases! And I'll sign it too.             Thanks for your help. I really think you’ll like this four-book series. It’s got a pretty awesome storyline—it’s just a matter of getting to the finish line in book four. I think it's going to surprise a lot of people            Appreciate all of you readers out there! 

The Only Writing Advice I Really Ever Give

            Do you dream? Then do something with it instead of watching the dreamers dare on some square screen.             Do you have a story to tell? Then start to tell it since it’s yours to begin with.             The end result isn’t always the best thing. Sometimes the journey really does matter. Sometimes the journey can be everything.             There are times like today when I’m taking a script already set in front of me. I’m working on a film novelization. It may or may not even have my name attached to it. Since it’s going to be published in Brazil, I don’t mind. It’s still a fun project. But today I had a simple scene which I made into something quite beautiful. I unlocked the door and poured out my soul onto the pages. It clicked and I looked back and thought this isn’t bad. It’s still a part of me. It’s something that spilled out and I enjoyed the process.             Yes, this is my day job. My night job, too. And yes, I have a little experience. I’m fortunate. I’ve found ways to let it pour out of me.             But you can let it pour out of you, too.            You don’t start by writing the last chapter in the story. You start by sitting down and writing. You start by playing around with words. I call this making mud pies. You’re a child and you’re just playing, feeling the slime in your hands, trying to shape something with it.             Do it.             Then do it again.             Then keep doing it.             You want writing advice?             Write.             Then keep writing.             Then keep writing after that.             And finish.             Oh, and by the way, finish.             So yeah, finish.             And then—hey, did I suggest you FINISH?             It’s so easy.             Big idea.             Grand idea.             Should be could be oughta be would be so much better than (BIG TIME BIG NAME EVEN MIGHT BE MY NAME).             Yeah.             But you gotta start.             You gotta keep going.             And you gotta finish.             And then . . . well, that’s when the fun (agony) begins.             Are you patient? Oh, you’ll learn to be. I am one impatient soul and wow how that’s come to burn me. Because I can’t do anything but             and then            and then a little more            and then            Feels incomplete, right? You need something, anything to fill in the blanks. To end the incomplete sentence. But that’s what you get. Sometimes a whole lotta nothing.             But you have to be okay with it. Because you can still tell your story. You can still make it into something beautiful. You still can and you should.             It’s never been easier to get a book out there. It’s never been more difficult to try to sell and market a book.             Wild times. Take the plunge. Dream big.             But listen—the book is not what it’s all about. I don’t believe that.             I write cause I have to write. I still do. God willing, I always will.             I love words. I love taking emotions and then scratching and smoothing them over onto the screen.             My pace doesn’t sometimes allow for, well, much. I’m learning and I’m making mistakes. Yeah, I’ve got a long ways to go.             So you have a story idea. TELL IT. Not to me but to the screen and the page.             Be authentic. Try to do it in a unique way.             And then finish.             And then—well, then never give up. And congratulate yourself for finishing. Cause so many people don’t. They want to but in the end it’s too much work. It’s too long and too much of a pain for no return.             Know the feeling in the middle of the journey. That’s when it’s worth it. When you have a writing bout and you look at the words and realize they’re worth the effort.             And you tell yourself you’ll do it again tomorrow.             Be persistent.             That’s the same advice I always give. The only kind I can give. The kind I tell myself day after day. 

Ten Stories I Still Want To Tell

            The longer I’m alive and continue to write fulltime, the more story ideas I seem to come up with. Some are ones I’ve had for many years that I still hope to see light of day. Others might find their way into a collaboration I end up doing. Who knows. But I thought I’d share some of the basic ideas to give you an idea of what’s rumbling around in my head on a daily basis.             Everest obsession. A novel about a man obsessed to climb Everest even though he’s not much of a hiker or an athlete.             NFL inspirational story. Some kind of story about a kid who makes it to the NFL. I think it’d be fun to write about a kicker.             My Prince of Tides by Pat Conroy. I did write this years ago but it wasn’t that good. Would love to write a sprawling epic on a dysfunctional southern family.             A Fantasy Series. I started working on one back in 2008, but this morphed into working on The Solitary Tales. I’d like to go back to the fantasy idea one day.             A YA Bladerunner-esque series. I recently mapped out one with a very, very cool premise. This would be sci-fi of sorts. The idea is great and could do well in the general market. But have to wait until time is right to start writing.             Time Travel story. Have an awesome love story combined with time travel.             Father-Daughter novel. In the vein of my Every Breath You Take is an idea of a father with three grown girls taking a road trip. It’s got a bit of supernatural thing going on, a bit of the heartfelt parent-child thing.             My Talked About Stand meets Lost series. I’ve been working on this one for a while. Mapping it out. Working on characters and plot. This is very close to seeing light of day I feel.             Bad Movies Ideas. I worked on this with a couple of former colleagues years ago and still have a desire to do something with the idea of bad movies. A novel maybe. Or nonfiction.             Return to Gun Lake. I have a trilogy in mind taking place at Gun Lake that would be in the vein of Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. It’s maybe for down the road. Would love to spend a summer at Gun Lake working on it. 

Doing What I Do

                 On New Year’s Eve, as we were ready to put our three-year-old twins to bed, I went in search of Mackenzie. Out of all three of our daughters, she’s the one who disappears the most. She’s quiet and does her own thing and often times simply vanishes. This was one of those cases where I had no idea where she was.             I found her in the basement (the playroom as well call it) coloring away by herself. I walked down the stairs, then stopped and reflected for a moment.             The sight brought tears to my eyes.             I was staring at myself. I wasn’t looking at our daughter but rather looking in a mirror.            2013 wasn’t a particularly good year in a lot of ways. And the holidays weren’t particularly good to me for various reasons.             But this was a reminder to me of who I am and what I do.             Staring at this little girl coloring away and enjoying herself-- it dawned on me--this is me. This is what I've always done. THIS IS WHAT I DO.            Then I thought of something else.             All the worries and the questions and the troubles that hang on me like germs I can never get rid of . . . they don’t matter. They'll always be there. Things like bills and debt and emergencies.            But the child creating in quiet isolation--he'll always be there, too.             In this moment, I suddenly felt grateful for being able to write. For being able to be left alone to create on a daily basis.             I felt grateful for being me.             I had planned to write some deep, dark, searing letter to 2013, but instead I simply decided to end the year thinking of this snapshot of our toddler coloring by herself. For herself. Coloring just because she has to. It's in her genes. It's who she is.              So it’s a new year. A new opportunity for many more coloring sessions ahead. I'm very thankful.            I’m also planning on a very colorful year.