Weston Ochse's Blog, page 26

Coming in the Next 365

Here's what's coming in the next 365 days from me in one manner or another. I hope I didn't leave anything out, but I have a nagging feeling I did -

Short Fiction

Behind Enemy Lines - A collection of four supernatural military thriller novellas from Weston Ochse, Michael McBride, Gord Rollo and Gene O'Neil. My novella is titled Tranquility Tides. To be published by Dark Regions Press (Complete)

Death Race 2000 - A woven collection of four novellas, to be published by Roy James Daley, Books of the Dead Press (Working)

When I Knew Baseball - Short story appearing in World War II Cthulhu ebook anthology published by Cubicle 7 (Complete).

Note this is a Mock Cover The  Weight of a Dead Man - a short story co-written with Yvonne Navarro and edited by Paul Kane and Charles Prepolec and published by Titan Books, appearing in Beyond the Rue Morgue (complete).

Lovers Leap of Faith - short story appearing in Inhuman Magazine (complete).

Gravitas - Short story appearing in Nightmare Magazine, edited by John Joseph Adams (Complete).

The Fine Art of Courage - dark fantasy Hemingway story appearing in Cycatrix Press anthology.

Beneath the Scorpion Tree, reprinted in the Haunted Mansion Volume II (Complete).



Novels

Halfway House, Novel, published by  Journalstone Books. Haunted house novel set in Los Angeles (Complete).

Grunt Life, Novel, published by Solaris Books. Military science fiction novel set in the near future (Working).

SEAL Team 666: Age of Blood, published by Thomas Dunne Books. Sequel to SEAL Team 666 (Complete).

SEAL Team 666 , U.K. Edition, published by Titan Books.





And don't forget my books in print, like SEAL Team 666, Blood Ocean, Multiplex Fandango and the rest. Just click on the thumbnails on the right (if they're not there, you can always just google too)

What happens during the weekend...

Spent a guy's weekend with Brian Keene, Drew Williams, and M Stephen Lukac (with guest appearances ffrom Bob Ford and Robert Swartwood) at Casa de Keene. Brian showed us terrific hospitality. Highlights include waking up groggy both Sat and Sunday mornings to surreal discussions about New Criticism vs Reader Response Theories, which was bizarre considering how steeped in the silly we got long into the night. Talked about comics, writing, publishers, movies, and other important world-changing topics. Determined the hierarchy of the new government we'll form after the Apocalypse (Brian HMFIC, me Sec of War and Cooking, Drew Sec of Education and Entertainment and Steve Sec of Finance and Recycling). Cooked some kickass salmon, drank nasty boxed wine, Dos XX and Knob Creek.

We also watched HELL GOES TO FROGTOWN and MST3000ed DEAD ALIVE.

I even managed to write several thousand words in the final scenes of SEAL Team 666 AGE OF BLOOD.

A much needed hiatus from real life, especially since I'll be knee deep in the shit soon. Thanks Brian and the guys for putting up with this old boy. It was a terrific time. I already miss it.

But time waits for no man. Got to get back to work. With any luck, I can type THE END on the first draft of AGE OF BLOOD this weekend.

Here are some photos:

When I Was A Little Terrorist

So this is a true story.

I'd forgotten about it almost entirely.

My mother is probably going to read this. She never knew it happened either, but the statute of parental limitations expired many years ago. You see, I had to be ten or eleven when I was a little terrorist. That I got away with it is the story.

I was writing a section of SEAL Team 666:Age of Blood today and looking up the nomenclature for a smoke grenade when I remembered using one when I was a kid. Not the AN/M-18 Colored Smoke Grenades used by our armed forces, but the little gray, round balls with a wick that you'd light and it would pump out smoke.

I was living in Signal Mountain, Tennessee at the time. We're talking 1976 or 1977. I was a latchkey kid and spent all my time playing war in the woods, riding my bike, and trying not to get into too much trouble. But on this day I did the first two very well, and the last one not so well.

You see, I had this little smoke bomb. It was the last one and I had to put it to good use. Then it hit me. I'll smoke bomb the bank. (WTF? What kind of kid thinks that?)

I took a circuitous route through the woods so no one could follow me. I hid in a treeline and waited until someone drove up and the teller opened the metal drawer. Then in a daring act of treasonous glee, I lit the bomb, pedaled to the window, dropped it in the drawer,and pedaled away. In my mirror-- yes I had a mirror, and a six foot orange plastic whip on the back of my bike that served no other purpose than to look cool and ultimately to later giveaway my position-- I watched the teller pull the drawer inside, I heard her scream, then she shoved it back outside and the smoke billowed. The woman in the car pulled away like she'd just learned of a ten for one sale at Penny's. I pulled to a stop in the weeds. Hid my bike behind a tree and got down to watch what I'd done.

As expected, the cops came screaming into the parking lot. There was quite a ruckus  Nothing like this had ever happened on sleepy Signal Mountain. The most that ever happened was you'd hear a huge explosion some nights and you just knew someone's still blew up somewhere in the woods.

Eventually a cop spied the orange whip on the back of my bike. As he got nearer, he got more suspicious. I scootched further into the brush.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

At this point I realized the importance of an alibi. I didn't have one. So I said the most intelligent thing I could think of. "I'm looking for my comic books."

I was treated with silence. Either he was drawing down on me or he was wondering why I was reading coming books in a thicket. I didn't know because my little terrorist eyes were closed.

"Come out of there." Thankfully he left off, with your hands up.

"No," I said.

"Come out of there," he repeated.

"No," I said firmly.

It was a standoff.

Have you read SEAL Team 666?I'm not sure what happened at that moment. I don't know whether he was called by a fellow officer, he decided to leave my poor little terroristically terrified body alone, or that he remembered that he'd left the oven on, but he left. It wasn't long before the police called an all clear and everything went back to normal.

I made my way back home and promptly forgot about this for the next 36 years.

And then came today.

What I note on the picture above is that very little has changed. The strip mall on the north side of the highway beside the entrance to Cauthen Way wasn't there when I was a kid. The bank was the first building on that side.

Thankfully I'm no longer a terrorist. I just write about them now.

Weston Ochse
Sonoran Desert

Equations of Life Gave Me Siezures...

in a good way.

EQUATIONS OF LIFE by Simon Morden
Winner of the 2012 P.K. Dick Award

From my Goodreads Review: Okay. I gotta say, the cover hooked me. I mean, come on. If it doesn't hypnotize you, then it'll leave you quivering on the ground in a seizure. I found myself traveling without a book to read. I can't take two steps without a book on call, so I popped into a local Barnes and Nobles, scoured the shelves and BANG!


Then I opened it. I'm not sure what to call it. Post-apocalyptic cyberpunk? Apocalyptic Punk? Whatever you call it, Equations of Life is a terrific entry book into the world of Simon Morden. Reading the acknowledgements and the interview afterwards, I see our mutual friend Brian Hopkins (BaH) had something to do with Simon's success in his early days. That Simon has written so extensively in this universe rings clear and presents an authentic, texturally rich and wholly believable landscape.

I thoroughly enjoyed the book and finished it within 24 hours. I'm signing books at another Barnes and Nobles today (For SEAL Team 666) and plan on getting the next two books of the trilogy, which I believe have equally seizure-enticing covers.

Terrific Job, Mr. Morden.

Keep them coming.

For more info on Equations of Life click here. 

RIGHTEOUS, Story about PTSD, Makes Preliminary Bram Stoker Award Ballot

My short story RIGHTEOUS made the nomination list for the Bram Stoker Award for Short Fiction. Even though I've been through the process six times before, it's always kind of interesting that people care enough about my writing to read it and vote on it. Especially this story, which is one that was a catharsis for me as I wrote it. I can remember penning the final few pages in Sandy, Utah, in a hotel room. With all my time in the military it was difficult for me to write a story about a father who is stalking the man who recruited his son, the same son who never made it back from Iraq. RIGHTEOUS is a story about PTSD. It's a story about a thing called Secondary PTSD. It's also a story about guilt, both shared and individual, both human and that of our nation. It's a story about America's love of war. And of course it's a story about an insane father who talks to his dog. And of course, because it's a story written by me, the dog talks back.

Here's a very small sampling--

Five sentences changed my life forever.

Yes, I’ll marry you, is how Susan changed my life.

It’s a boy, is how a wide-hipped, chippy-eyed nurse changed my life.

Metastasized means that your wife’s breast cancer has spread to her lymph nodes is how the medical community gave up trying to save Susan and changed my life.

On behalf of a grateful nation, I present this flag as a token of our appreciation for the faithful and selfless service of your loved one for this country, is how a straight-faced Uncle Sam socked me in the heart.

Then one night I was three sheets to the wind with a bottle of Cutty Sark and Pulp Fiction blasting on television. When Samuel L. Jackson screamed the words from Ezekial 25:17, I sat up and was beset by a moment of clarity as he talked about the path of a righteous man. Then he said the words that started me on this path of the righteous man.

“Blessed is he who in the name of charity and goodwill shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee.”

And always, as Mutt is eager to point out my errors. Those are seven sentences, Dude.

“But they are seven good sentences,” I offer.

Mutt thinks for a moment, then nods. They are. Especially for an asshat.

Thanks to John Skipp for editing the Psychos anthology and for letting me be a part of it.

The Fourth Third of Novel Writing

I'm writing my tenth novel. With the exception of the first novel, which took more than two years to complete, my writing, as it applies to novels, follows an established pattern. This pattern has remained unbroken since 2002, and will probably remain unbroken until I finally succumb to my arch-nemesis. I thought it would change, hell, I hoped it would change, but it looks like this is my particular style. So, I now present to you my four thirds of novel writing.

The First Third. The characters are fresh in my head. I don't really know them, but I'm eager to do so. I mean, come on, they are so damned interesting. The plot is still the best plot anyone has ever conceived. My working title is brilliant. The writing is crisp and awesome and absolutely bound to be the winner of at the very least a National Book Award. My god, I am so good and this is so much fun, how come I'm not writing two books right now instead of one. Wait? Is that Stephen King calling for advice? I'll put him on hold. I don't have the time. I'm too busy being perfect.

The Second Third. My characters are stupid and they suck. I can't even remember who they are. They all merge into silly pretenders who shouldn't even be characters on a daytime soap opera. And who's the asshat who came up with this plot? Seriously? Does Marvel comics know you've stolen their formula for Overused Plot #14? And dude, what the fuck is up with all of the gerunds you keep slapping in sentences. Don't you know it's illegal in seventeen states? And another thing. Split Infinitives is not a Marvel superhero alternate world character arc! It's a crime!

The Third Third. I calm down. I go back, I massage the text and realize it's not even half as bad as I thought. In fact, had I not listened to my inner Satan, I'd be finished by now. Self Doubt is a cowardly arch viillian and my long time arch-nemesis and it can strike down even the best of us, without warning and without mercy. I don't actually get a lot of writing done during this period, but by the time I'm finished with the Third Third, I'm on the downward slope of the novel, into act three, and sliding head first towards the final climactic set pieces. Everything is going to be just fine. I might not be awesome, but I'm pretty damn good. I find my pride beginning to return.

The Fourth Third. Wait, who are the characters? What are they doing? Do you mean you're getting paid actual money to write this dribble? What? You mean you've already been paid? Don't you think you should give the money back. Fuck you. No. Fuck you. Leave me alone and go bother Brian Keene. Fuck you, he's too strong for us. Then go bother John Skipp. He's a lot of fun. He knows porn stars. No triple fuck you. Skipp has the  +5 Cloak of Self Doubt Protection. I can't get past it. (-- an internal battle ensues too graphic for this page, involving Facebook, Twitter, Googling old college roommates, browsing vintage clothes on Ebay, rearranging my library chronologically according to author's birth dates  genre, and publisher, rebuilding my website, drinking great gobs of wine, writing articles about writing, and singing along to old Brittany Spears videos) Then, in a passion-filled two weeks, I finish the first draft of the novel, keeping one step ahead of my arch-nemesis. By the time I type THE END, I'm restless to be done with this book and move on to something else, to go somewhere my arch-nemesis doesn't frequent.

But that's not it.

You thought it was over, didn't you.

The Fifth Third. Eventually you'll have to return to your novel, unless you're a LuLu author or have your girlfriend/mother/sister/brother/aunt edit it for you followed by you self-publishing it and spending the next four years sitting behind card tables at craft fairs and conventions calling yourself an author. In this fifth third, you're impassioned  You've already fought so many battles, you're a tired warrior. You find yourself hacking and slashing the first brilliant third of you novel like sleep-sundered Conan after he wakes up in the Land of the Lotus-eaters. By the time you've finished your edit, the novel is more lean and filled with less brilliance. It is now a work you can turn loose upon a legion of real editors. If you're lucky enough to work for a major publishing house, you'll have half a dozen editors, many fresh out of an Ivy League college stuck being an editor until they can write their own great American novel. These editors know more about grammar and sentence structure than you'll ever know. If you're not so lucky, your cousin Gregg and his fiance will edit it with post-it notes, followed by a group of beta readers whose knowledge of the English language was learned through comic books and role-playing games, and an endless string of Tolkien pretenders (like your own). However it's done, the novel needs edited many times. It's gone from brilliant to craptacular back to moderately good. Will it ever be brilliant again? That's not for you to decide. That's for the Readerverse. In fact, you don't care. By now you're working on your next novel, and let me tell you, it is fucking brilliant.

My Coming Year - Afghanistan and New Book Contract

With my West Coast book signing trip behind me and the advent of the new year, I can relax and kick back and count my laurels. Right?

I wish.

I wish I had the time.

Especially, since I'm hard up against a very specific deadline.  On April 22nd I'm supposed to have my feet firmly planted on Afghani soil.

In the meantime, I have to finish SEAL Team 666: AGE OF BLOOD, a zombie novella and a new Military Sci Fi book I'm signing a contract for next week. From whom you ask? All I can say is it's a mass market paperback.

Not to mention, all the edits St. Martins is going to deluge me with over AGE OF BLOOD.

That's what we call in the trades  a shitload of writing. I might not be able to do it by the time I'm supposed to be in Afghanistan. So St. Martins might experience having to send edits to a war zone. Wonder how many times they've done that before? I also might have to work on the Military Sci Fi novel there too... in my spare time.  Like I'll have any.  Riiiight.

The good thing is that if I leave on time, I'll be back around Thanksgiving. I can spend the holidays with my wife and family. And come January, I'll have four books out:
SEAL Team 666 in mmpSEAL Team 666:AGE OF BLOOD in hardbackHalfway House in limited edition hardcover and paperbackMilitary Sci Fi novel in mmpThat'll be fun.

Here's  a link you'll find interesting. It's a video of my interview at the Poisoned Pen.



Oh yeah. And don't forget to pick up a copy of SEAL Team 666 or any of my other books, especially the novella Butterfly Winter which isn't getting the love it deserves. I also have copies of Empire of Salt for sale. This book is sold out in America, so I'm the only one who seems to have any copies. For information about these books click here.

Gary Stu Reviews and Twicrap Opinions

Everyone has their own opinion. I shouldn't be surprised, especially after such a divisive American election year as 2012. Yet I still find it funny when someone hates something of mine which so many other people love. It sort of makes me want to hold a psychological board to discern what it is about them that created within them an optic so different from other people. The result could possible be that we'd discover how to make a work of art everyone would love, but that hasn't happened since the first issue of Mad Magazine, which in and of itself was lightning in a bottle.

So I get google alerts when my name is mentioned. Most of the time I don't have time to check them, but on this occasion I did. And I learned two new words. Twicrap and Gary Stu.

From Simon Branford, Evolutionary Biology Researcher at the School of Biological Sciences at the University of Reading comes this notation:

    

Twicrap Award for Worst Book - Blaze of Glory by Weston Ochse. I decided to give a couple of the indie e-book bundles a go. It was a fairly predictable outcome – some books were OK, most rambled on for too long, and a couple were dreadful. This one was the worst – a Gary Stu monster apocalypse.

Twicrap seems easy enough to understand, but Gary Stu? I looked it up and it's interesting. I think it's a specifically English reference, because I've never heard it before, and I do get around quite considerably, but then again I might not be traveling in the right Mary Sue circles.

According to Wikipedia, Gary Stu is a variant of Mary Sue and it goes something like this:

Mary Sue stories—the adventures of the youngest and smartest ever person to graduate from the academy and ever get a commission at such a tender age. Usually characterized by unprecedented skill in everything from art to zoology, including karate and arm-wrestling. This character can also be found burrowing her way into the good graces/heart/mind of one of the Big Three [Kirk, Spock, and McCoy], if not all three at once. She saves the day by her wit and ability, and, if we are lucky, has the good grace to die at the end, being grieved by the entire ship.[4]  

 Interesting. I don't think it fits my plot at all, but interesting. My protagonist is really just a garbage man with a passion for survival. He's really not good at anything. The use of this word along with the mentioning of the authors he actually likes (noted in the link on his name) made me realize that good man Simon reads YA books. Blaze of Glory is decidedly not a YA book. Maybe that's where some of the breakdown occurs.

Take for instance Adam Cesare. He's a self-professed reader of adult horror. He reviewed Blaze of Glory and loved it.  Among many things he says -

    Blaze of Glory is a first rate literary creature feature, it’s got an eclectic and likable cast of survivors, some thoughtful allusions to the sub-genre’s past, and a host of creatures that are both creepy and original.  Oh, and it’s also got Dylan Thomas poems being recited while our protagonists douse salt-sensitive monsters with Supersoakers.

Is it as simple as a reader not knowing what he was getting into? After all, the cover even warns HERE THERE BE MONSTERS.

Probably not. And will probably never figure it out.

All of the above twicrap is nothing but sophomoric sophistry. Although I'm still left wondering what it was that made it Master Simon's Worst Book of the Year, I'm sure this is something I'll never really know. And perhaps I shouldn't. After all, there are things I don't like that a lot of people seem to really appreciate. Like Strawberry Lattes.


Liking and hating is what makes us all different. Maybe Master Simon is as I type this conducting evolutionary research on the subject. We can only cross our fingers and hope.

But Master Simon did do me a favor. He taught me the term Gary Stu. I'm going to use that. Like the word Slacks. And when I whip it out-- the word --people are going to look at me cross-eyed wondering what the hell I said. And in that moment, I will channel Master Simon and stare at them in my best interpretation of an Evolutionary Biology Researcher, and they will think me wise.

Now peel your Gary Stu asses away from my blog and do something useful, like shopping for some bell-bottom slacks.

Laters.

20 New Year's Resolutions for Those Who Don't Have Any

Can't figure out your own New Year's Resolution? Can't figure out how to improve your life? I've provided a list of some randomly sampled resolutions from the geniuses on Twitter. Pick one and it's yours:


Have less hairy nipples and more hairy armpitsStop using my cat as an excuse for a boyfriendAvoid employing my strikingly-decent impression of Mickey Mouse's voice when having sexNever ask my drug dealer how her life has been recently unless I have an hour to spend hearing about itRandomly sew one sequin onto every piece of clothing I ownTo stop saying 'you go girl' outloud to myselfGet me some of those C-Tate abs the ladies are so crazy aboutLearn brick laying? I've always fancied knowing but dunno if you actually have to become a bricklayer to learn?Figure out how to get into the secret tunnels under disney worldNot to meet any girls online anymore and to actually see one in publicDedicate the whole year to bang a north korean chick, a scientologist and meet chuck bassWon't sit and do nothing from now on, will stalk people on Facebook instead.Don't sit with my phone on twitter all day, must try to stand every now and againLive like I'm dying; Get healthy physically & spiritually; Stop ppl pleasing; Dev a new perspective on life; LoveStop adding my own home made butter and cream to store-made donuts during the dietPut daily markings on my anti-social neighbour's car and house door till he leaves”Stop spitting in other people's drinks at partiesGet my body waxed this year so I can wear a bikini at Walmart and make the website.Jump up and down every time I'm in the grocery store and make people refer to me as Pogo ManStop speaking in an evil little voice whenever I get into an elevator.And there you have it. 20 New Years Resolutions to try. 
Choose one. 
Choose them all
These are free for you to use.
Do you have any you want to add to the list?

Weston's Favorites of 2012

This is my 2012 Capsule of all my favorites for the year. I'm going to bury it in your psyches and fifty years from now we're going to open it and laugh at how silly we were back in 2012. Of course, I'm sure some of you will already laugh at me, because you are just so damned ahead of your time. All is well, though. Feel free to make fun of me as you get this not-so-rare glimpse into my thinking.
Favorite Word - Slacks. I was pretty upset when the New Yorker pegged this terrific word as the worst word in the English language? I mean, who the hell do they think they are? I'm going to make it my mission to use this word at least once a day. Slacks. Watch for it. There will be a resurgence.



Favorite Saying - "I have binders full of women." Gotta love that joker. He's a peach. I laugh every time I hear it. When I had binders full of women, my mother got mad and threw them away.

Favorite Political Meme - This one of Bill Clinton is so profanely adolescent, I can't help but laugh, with the presidents expression saying, "Oh, here we go."

Favorite Comic Book - Conan the Barbarian, Dark Horse

Favorite Fast Food Sandwich - Carl's Junior Jalepeno Turkey Burger. I know it's Turkey but I can't help it. The sauce, the jalapenos, the crisp lettuce, all serve to compliment the burger.

Favorite TV Show - Californication. (sorry. I'm a HANK MOODY FAN!!!!)

Favorite Song - Hey, Ho. The Lumineers.It's just so damned catchy and I don't want it to end.



Favorite Song You Never Heard Of (with video) - Anywhich Way by Scissor Sisters*





Favorite Video of the Year - Miami Dolphins Cheerleaders "Call Me Maybe" By Carly Rae Jepson Military Tribute by U.S. Military - This makes me smile every single time I watch it. Tell me you didn't smile. Come on. I dare you.





Favorite Weirdest Video of the Year:- Night and Day by Hot Chip or as NPR says, the video that makes you want to join and egg-worshiping disco cult




Favorite Beer - 1554  

Favorite Wine - Cupcake, Petite Syrah, Central Coast, 2010

Favorite Video Game - Skyrim

Favorite Novel -Tie between Westlake Soul (Rio Youers) and The Ritual (Adam Nevill). These books couldn't be more different. In fact, The Ritual (I believe) actually came out in 2011, which would make Rio's the best of this year. But since I read both of them in 2012, they're my 2012 books. I seriously encourage you that if you haven't read either of these, do it. Seriously.  And wear slacks and eat turkey burgers while you're doing it.

Favorite Trilogy - Dog Faced Gods by Sarah Pinborough

Favorite Recipe - This is something special. I don't usually share, but here it is.

Original which inspired my recipe

Weston's Smoke Salmon Pasta

3 tablespoons cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 red onion, chopped
1 large tomato (when chopped, no juice)
6 - 8 oz pound smoked salmon
1 cup heavy cream
4 tablespoons capers, drained
2 tablespoons dill
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
1 pound pasta (preferably linguini), cooked past al dente, drained, and tossed with 3 additional tbs olive oil
Freshly grated imported Parmesan cheese

Cut into small, equal-sized pieces tomato, salmon, onion, add dill and let rest in refrigerator for 1 hour in ceramic bowl.

Cook pasta.

In a large skillet, heat half the olive oil over medium-high heat. Add refrigerated ingredients and sauté until translucent, but not browned (about 5 minutes). Pour in the cream and reduce to simmer. Taste and adjust seasoning with salt and pepper. Be careful how much salt you add because the smoked salmon and capers are both salty. Add pasta to each single serving bowl, and add ingredients to pasta in bowl. Toss pasta with ingredients to coat. Serve with freshly grated Parmesan cheese and a pinch of dill. If served family style, then use one large bowl.

*Note: I had this at Anthony's Restaurant at Point Defiance, Washington, and recreated it. It's creamy and has the taste of smoked salmon without being overpowering.

And that's it folks. I hope you can try out my favorites and see if they might become your. Thank you 2012 for all that you have given. Now on to 2013. I wonder what's in store for us all when we're in the middle of next year wearing slacks?

*Song and video created in 2010. I know it's not 2012. So sue me.