Weston Ochse's Blog, page 41

Living Dangerously Weekly - The End of Summer and the Start of Labor

Me at 6 and Excited for School
Labor Day used to mark the end of summer and the start of school. As August creeped by, I remember both dreading and loving the coming of Labor Day. It was the end of the summer magic, but it was also a new beginning. Classes would start. School would open. What new girl would I meet? What new friends would I have? To balance all that excitement in my head, I'm lucky my brain didn't explode.

Now I'm older. No more school. Even if there was school, it starts in many places long before Labor Day. Here in Arizona it started the first week of August. Kind of takes the oompf out of Labor Day. Makes it like any other three day weekend.

Labor Day is kind of special if you think about it. It's the only holiday dedicated to the American worker. It's a reward and remembrance for hard work. It's the acknowledgment that hundreds of years of people have helped make this country great. Most often we celebrate Labor Day by drinking and BBQing. That's all good, but isn't the message sometimes lost? How many of your kids, or you for that matter, know that Labor Day was designed to celebrate work and the work ethic?

I'm going to have a dinner on Labor Day for sure. Probably make lamb shanks and Yvonne will make a huge Greek salad. But the rest of the weekend is going to be filled with work. In honor of Labor Day and all of those workers who came before me and built the America I live in, I am going to work. I'm going to sacrifice my free time on the altar of the sweat of the American brow.

I have to finish Blood Ocean by midnight on Friday. That's my deadline. I have 50 pages left. I have to get it done. Then I have to give it a read through over the weekend before I pass it to Yvonne for editing.

I also have to start Seal Team 666. St. Martin's Press has given me105 days to write it.All I have now is an outline and some character sketches. So I plan on starting to write that on Saturday morning.

It's been a tough summer with fires and monsoons at the Ochse Casa. On the other hand, it's been a good summer for writing opportunities. I'm not going to fritter them away. On Labor Day weekend I will be involved in the labor of writing, the labor that I love, and I will glorify it.

Chance Meeting of a U.S. Navy SEAL

Just to demonstrate how small a world this is...

I was on a flight from Tucson to Atlanta yesterday . About halfway through I opened a book called The Warrior Elite: The Forging of SEAL Class 228by Dick Couch. I'm using the book as reference and source material for my up-coming St. Martin's book, SEAL TEAM 666, which I'm starting right after I finish BLOOD OCEAN. The Warrior Elite is a day-by-day walk-through of BUD/S training and gives an excellent perspective on what it takes to be a SEAL and what they have to go through during training. That they have nearly an 80% attrition rate says a lot.

Anyway, I'm reading this book when I get a tap on my elbow. I have an aisle seat and the fellow behind and across the aisle from me has just tapped me on the elbow.

"I see you're reading about Class 228," the man says.

I'd noticed him at the Tucson Airport. About 6'1" and 180 pounds, the muscles in his shoulders and arms were pronounced without being gaudy. Dressed in civilian clothes, he could have walked out of one of the adverts in my Esquire. He is good looking and self assured.

"I am. It's pretty good so far. Have you read it?" I ask by way of response.

"I have. Actually, I'm Class 227."


And there you have it. A SEAL on my flight. Small world. We get to talking. When two military men meet there is a certain dance we have. It usually starts with where we've been and how long we've done things and ultimate ends up by comparing assignments. Now, although I've deployed with SEALs on a number of occasions in my previous life, my assignments can't compare to theirs, so we proceeded to the next phase of the dance, which is name dropping. I do know quite a few folks in the special operations community. Knowing where he was probably from, I dropped some names from folks stationed in Coronado Island, San Diego, California, and Dam Neck, Virginia. I finally hit on a couple of names he knew. I could see the change in his eyes as our joint friendship of those people made us close in a way we never could have been before, Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon if Kevin Bacon were a SEAL.

He asks why I was reading it and I told him about SEAL TEAM 666, At first he gives me a crazy look.
 "Is it a Christian Book?" he asks.

"A lot of Christian's are going to die in the book, but it's not a Christian book per se. It's more of a supernatural thriller book-- a horror book."

Then the light dawns in his eyes. He gets it.

I explained to him about how I was asked to write this and that one of my challenges is to keep the SEAL TEAM, as fictional as they are, as real and authentic as possible.

He appreciates that and tells me so.

Then we talked about what he was doing. He was on his way to Arlington Cemetery for a funeral. Although I didn't ask out of respect, I'm sure it was one of the SEALs who recently died in the tragedy in Afghanistan. Several of my friends were already busy with funeral duties, interfacing with the families of those who perished.

It's a small world and the world of SEALS is even smaller. Smaller still, since the loss of so many in Afghanistan. This meeting served to remind me to take this project seriously. I have a universe of respect for SEALs and want to make sure that when you all finally sit down on your couch to read SEAL TEAM 666 that you grok that fact amidst all the supernatural helter skelter I'm going to slam on the page.

Why I Hate Kevin J. Anderson

I hate Kevin J. Anderson. It seems like every day he's taking a hike on some mountain, hill, monument, in some place far far away, dictating another fabulous new novel that he turns into a private secretary to transcribe. He's not strapped to a chair. He's not face diving into a monitor or passing out on the ASDF keys. In fact, he doesn't even use a keyboard for first drafts. Instead, he combines two fun activities into one and let's someone else get carpal tunnel.
Telephoto shot through a sniper scope of the hated authoras he dictates the last 42 chapters of his latest novel
Yeah. I fricking hate Kevin J. Anderson, especially now when I'm strapped to a chair in the dining room (because I moved my entire setup upstairs to get more done) with two deadlines looming. If he was me, he'd be somewhere in the Grand Tetons (note that the French named an entire mountain range after breasts), hiking, dictacting, and grinning form ear to ear that he is so adept at multitasking that his bank account goes ching ching ching.
And he's probably stress free too. I mean what's to stress about? Which hiking boots to wear?



Taken after KJA Dictated two new Dune novelsand the proposal for a new Star Wars trilogy

Earlier in the week I was reminded that I had an editing job to do on a project. I'd let it lapse as other projects piled up. Eunice Magill, a great friend of mine, emailed me about it, and I snapped at her. I was short, too short for such a good friend. At the end of the day, I appologized for being an ass and for allowing the stress to get to me. WWKJAHD (What would Kevin J. Anderson have done)? He'd have shrugged it off, taken another hike, and listened to the ching-a-ching-ching as it echoed through the valleys.
Oh to be Kevin J. Anderson and be able to tra-la-la through the world instead of sitting at the computer hammering in desperate bursts, hoping beyond hope that my inspiration and creativity won't be snatched away by Facebook, Twitter, Youtube, eMail, GMail. Google Plus, Linked-in, Shocklines, HWA message board, my message board at BrianKeene.com, this blog, my wife's blog (because sometimes that's the only way I know what's going on), the news, chat windows and the daily adorations of my three Great Danes.
So what's the stress?  Here are the projects I'm currently working on-
     Novel - Blood Ocean (Abaddon)
     Novel - Seal Tealm 666 Outline (St. Martin's/Thomas Dunne)
     Novel - Living Death Race 2000 (Books of the Dead)
     Novel - Black Fever (With Mike McCarty)
     Blight (Comic Book)
     Killing Time (Comic Book)

     4 short stories
     2 Novellas
     And promoting the releases of Multiplex Fandango and Velvet Dogma which are happening this month and next.
In reality, I'm only really working on Blood Ocean. My deadline is for sometime in September. I'm about 100 pages shy of the end of the book. Normally, I could make that no sweat. In fact, I probably will make it no sweat. I plan on this weekend to be a 50 page weekend and I'm already 18 pages into that goal. But two things happened this week. Although they were good things, they were the sort of things that sent my blood pressure sky high.
The first was that Abaddon Books, bless them for keeping me on as an author, decided to put Blood Ocean up for pre-order everywhere books are sold. Isn't that neat? I mean, there's no stress with that, right? Except for the fact that I haven't even written the freaking book yet! I imagine people from India to Montana cliking pre-order buttons, looking forward to this book, maybe even planning to take it on a special trip with them, only to have it not be there when they expect it. Readers will be crushed. Bookstores will be burned. Entire populations will be let down. The United Nations will have me as an international pariah and starving children in Africa will weep.
Okay, maybe that's a little overboard, but I wanted to share with you some of the insanity I have to wade through in my brain just to achieve a coherent thought.  I actually think these things. Sure, I realize they're hogwash most of the time, but it takes awhile.
And the second thing? Now this is good news. St. Martin's Press/Thomas Dunne Books (not sure which or what the difference is) accepted my outline for Seal Team 666. This is a big project. I got the contract on Thursday. All 26 pages of it. I do believe they have the intention of publishing this in Swahili. Not sure. So much gobbelty gook in the contract, all I do know is that it's coming out as a trade hardback first, then all the other editions. I also saw the line that said they want the book turned in by November 1. That actually stopped my heart. So check this out, kids. In the middle of feeling wonderful, my heart actually stopped, the floor opened up and I fell through into the lava pit of Oh Shit!

Let's do the math. Let's say I get Blood Ocean done by Sept 1. Then that leaves 2 months to write a 90,000 word novel. That's 45,000 words a month. That's 1500 words a day, which comes out to anywhere between 6-8 pages, depending on dialogue and decription. And that's if I don't do anything else at all, like, edit Blood Ocean, which I definitely will. So if I miss a week for editing, the daily required total goes up to 1800 words a day. If I get sick for three days, it goes up to 2000 words a day. If I get jury duty and get sequestered for another two weeks, that means that I have to write 3000 words a day and get it done in a month.
Oh. My. God.
Breathe. I need to breathe. Okay, I know. WWKJAD? Then when I got the answer, I realized that it didn't help. Well, it did help in a sort of way. I discovered that my fear of deadline was replaced by an intense hatred for Kevin J. Anderson, because it became obvious what he'd do if he was beset with my problems.
He'd go on a freaking hike and have it done by noon.

[image error]
Here KJA shown after his arrestfor inappropriate contact with wildlife in Redwood Ntnl Forest
So thank you KJA.
Thanks for having so much damn fun and for making it look too easy.
Now back to writing. I've only done 8 pages this morning and I need to do 12 more by the end of the day.
Wait? Did someone just friend me on Facebook?
Groovy.
(Note that KJA was not actually harmed in the making of this post--although he might have been had I been able to get out of my +4 Chair of Miserable Confinement (D&D reference) and track his happy ass down. I'd spot him right away because he'd be the one hiking away, seemingly talking to himself, dollar signs falling out of the sky behind him.)
P.S. If you enjoyed this post, also check out fellow Abaddon author Chuck Wendig at Terribleminds
P.S.S. Feel free to click on one of the quick take boxes below or leave a comment.

Velvet Dogma - Orphaned No More

Velvet Dogma.
It rolls off the tongue doesn't it.
Gotta love that title. I've loved it for six years. Yes. Six years. Because that's how long ago I first wrote the novel. Fresh on the heels of winning the Bram Stoker Award for Superior Achievement in First Novel with Scarecrow Gods, I was told of a publisher who was looking for something specific. They wanted a novel with a strong female protagonist. Hell, I can do that. I did that recently with Tomes of the Dead: Empire Of Salt. But back then, it was a definite stretch. Yet the opportunity was there so I wrote the outline and first three chapters and pitched the novel. Amazingly the editor loved my idea and accepted it. She didn't offere me a contract, but she told me to write it. And I did.
[image error] It took me five months. That was the fastest I could write it. I edited it. Friends and readers read and critiqued it. And six months later I turned it in. The editor read it. Then I got a message on my answering machine. It went something like this, "Wes, this is XXX. I want you to know that I'm accepting Velvet Dogma, but I'm leaving tomorrow for a new job."
For me it was all good news. That is until the next day, or really a few weeks later when I tried to contact the new editor.
Silence.
More Silence.
Even more silence.
Then I cold called the new editor. She knew who I was and told me that she wasn't working with any of her prdecessor's projects. This, my friends, is what the undustry calls 'orphaning' a book. I was stunned. I had a novel proposal accepted. I wrote it. I submitted it. It was accepted. And all this from a major New York house. Now it was back in my lap with no love.
I half heartedly sent it out to another publisher who immediately loved the idea. So immediate that two years later, they got back to me and told me that they didn't want it.
At that point I as pretty sick of the whole thing. It sat. I think I asked my agent to send it to one or two publishers. I can't remember. I had other novels published and written in the meantime. I'd move on.
Finally, this year, I got over myself. I decided to dust it off and publish it as an eBook. After all, Velvet Dogma is a damn good book. It was accepted by a major house, only to be orphaned when an editor packed her bags and moved on.
Shit happens. Then you die. Then I publish an eBook. Or actually, Crossroads Publishing publishes it. I went to them and asked if they wanted it. They jumped at the idea. The cool thing was that I'd been thinking about this for some time now. In fact, I'd been in contact with Danielle Tunstall, whom I'd discovered this spring looking for some pictures for a different project. Her photos and digital enhancements are just amazing, as you can see. She did the cover for Matt Hults' book HUSK. I contacted him and we talked about her, then I got her contact information and bought the rights to the picture. I wanted to make sure that this picture was the cover. Not only is it perfect for the novel, but it has a lot of movement.
So what's Velvet Dogma about you ask?

In the year 2040, the world has finally achieved the perfect merging of human and machine by developing a method by which the computer has direct integration into the brain. Called Personal Ocular Devices, or PODS, the interface fits over the eye feeding information directly along the optic nerve into the brain, allowing minds and computers to become one.
But not for Rebecca Mines who has been held in solitary confinement for the last 20 years. Arrested under the 2002 Patriot Act as a cyber-terrorist for unleashing a program called Velvet Dogma, her parole restricts access to all computers and all but the simplest of machines. Although the government is still fearful that she'll resume her previous profession, Rebecca wants nothing more than to find a place to exist in peace. She has a life to live, and twenty years of personal stagnation from which to recover.

But she discovers that things have changed dramatically since she's been in prison. Not only is organ theft sanctioned, but all of her organs have already been levied to the highest bidder. No sooner does she promise the judge that she'll be a law-abiding citizen, then she finds herself on the run from not only Chinese Black Hearts, eager to confiscate her organs, but the authorities who realize that they've let her out too soon.

Velvet Dogma will be published in September.
If you're an eBook reviewer, let me know. I'll make sure you get a complimentary copy.
More to come...

Living Dangerously Weekly - Inventing Science, Seafood, the U.S. Navy and Velcro Pimp

It's been a hell of a week. At the start I worked on the outline for the St. Martin's Press/Thomas Dunne Books project, SEAL TEAM 666. Now it's all tricked out and ready for prime time. Waiting to see what the editors think and keen to get contracts signed and deals sealed. In fact, I was on the plane over Mississippi with free internet, sitting in first class (free upgrade), when I finished all the edits and additions. Glad to put that baby to bed.
The rest of the week I spent working on Blood Ocean. I'm on track to finish this, but keep feeling like I'm behind. I'm at a technical part of the novel where I have to invent some science. Gotta love soft science fiction novels. I wonder if Mr. Murray from my H.S. biology class knows that I'm totally faking being a scientific expert because I actually learned more from my English teacher. Mr. Murray almost kicked me out of the class because I just couldn't get it. Still, back to writing the novel, the secret about inventing science is that it has to be about 90% accurate so that the reader will embrace it. The rest is bright lights and tinkly bells. On an interesting note that only serves to stress me the hell out, Blood Ocean is up for pre-order at Barnes and Nobles Online. I'm not even finished with it!
I did spend the week in D.C. The day job demanded that I genuflect at the seat of government power and do some serious work regarding intelligence training. I mostly came home exhausted, but still managed to plug a few pages of Blood Ocean away every night. Thursday night was a special night. My old friend Dave Lake and I went to The Wharf in Old Town, Alexandria, Virginia. This is my favorite restaurant. My favorite bartender was there as well, Brian Wallenius (aka Velcro Pimp). It was a grand meal that took four hours. We talked old times and new. We drank two bottles of wine. And we had incredible food. Check it out: Oysters on Half-Shell, Corn-fried Oysters over a lump crab and corn succotash, She Crab Soup, and perfectly prepared Rockfish stuffed with lump blue crab.  Mmmm Damn!  (If you're really hungry, have the same apps then order the Lobster and Shrimp Linguini. It comes with half a lobster in the pasta and the other half on top of the pasta)
Now for the really big news. My Daughter is in the NAVY!!! She's going to be an Aviation Ordinance Woman. She's going to have access to bigger guns, bombs and missiles than her dad. It's just awesome.
Last but not least, a word about Velcro Pimp. Brian Wallenius has made it to my short list of best bartenders on the planet. Not only does he remember things near perectly, but he has a personality to match. We got to talking and he really wanted me to create a psycho killer character for him. And you know what, I think I will. I've already decided that he's going to go by the name Velcro Pimp. I'll write it as a short story. So there you have it. If there are any takers for this story, let me know and I'll write it. But for now it's fermenting in the vats of my mind.
Lest I not forget. Shock Totem #4 is out featuring my story Playlist at the End. To my knowledge, it's the only horror story using an mp3 playlist as a narrative framing device. It was a load of fun and nasty as hell.

You can get this from the folks at Shock Totem or at Amazon- Shock Totem 4: Curious Tales of the Macabre and Twisted. The playlist is going to blow you away.
Until next week.

Living Dangerously Weekly - Frog Stranglers and Monsoons

This post seems longer than it is to me because this is the third fourth fifth time I've written it. For some reason Blogger hasn't been saving my edits. But I'm on to it. I know what it's trying to do (DRIVE ME CRAZY). Seems the new editor won't work in Firefox and I have to use creepy old IE.
Anyway...
For those of you who follow Living Dangerously, you'll remember that it was just a month ago when my little corner of Arizona was threatened by fires. We were evacuated twice. More than 60 homes burned. The Huachuca Mountains were on fire for weeks. It was a humbling and terrifying experience. Which is why the irony of complaining about too much rain isn't lost on me. And not only is it the rain, but it's also the humidity. I put a battery in my daughter's car this morning and was drenched in sweat. I mean come on. I might as well live on the East Coast if you're going to do that to me.

 But the gratification comes with the knowledge that we only have about a week of this left. Which is awesome. Since July 4th we've been hit daily with frog stranglers, worm gurglers... Monsoons. The desert soil isn't made to soak up water, so it sheets to the lowest level. With the mountains burned and deforested, those next to the mountain are getting hit the hardest.

 Probably the craziest thing are the frogs. The Arizona Spadefoot Frog to be exact. These damn things estivate (sleep in dormancy in the dry soil until the monsoons hit. It's like having dehydrated frogs. Just add water and POOF!


Instant Frog!
And with a thousand of these screaming in the night, it's something out of a horror movie.
So that's been my week.
Projects currently working on:Blood Ocean (Abaddon)Seal Tealm 666 Outline (Thomas Dunne)Living Death Race 2000 (Books of the Dead)Black Fever (With Mike McCarty)Blight (Comic Book)Killing Time (Comic Book)4 short stories2 Novellasand a partridge in a pear tree
 
 

Dread Central Fandangos

Dread Central is a pretty awesome clearinghouse of everything horror. They decided to take a look at MF. Here's an excerpt of what they said --

"There are names in the field of horror literature that everyone knows. Names like Barker, King, Lovecraft, and Straub are firmly implanted in the collective consciousness and most people can tell you who they are. Then there are names that you instinctively know you've heard, know you should know, yet can't remember why. These names include some of the best writers that the genre has to offer. In the sphere of horror authors, these guys are at the top of their game, even if mainstream success hasn't caught up with them yet. Such a guy is Weston Ochse, and while you might not have heard of him, he's considered a writer's writer, damned fine at his craft, and someone the rest of the horror loving world should be reading. Here's an example of why."

To find out when you can order this book or just want information about my comings and goings, sign up for my Living Dangerously Newsletter (top right) so we can live dangerously together.I promise I won't spam you.  Or just go to Dark Regions to get it while copies last.

Reposted from http://multiplex-fandango.blogspot.com/

Nancy Goats - Undead Rat Reviews and Dad Talks

Undead Rat reviewed Nancy Goats recently. (For those who don't know, Nancy Goats is part of the Delirium Novella Series. It's a small book. It had a print run of 150 copies (ten left) and is now available in digital.)




This was a tough story to write. I wanted to deal with the issue of identity, especially from the perspective of a young man coming out. Doubly hard is that I can only view this from the outside in, but I hoped that my empathy would carry me through.

Here's what I wrote for the introduction: I originally conceived of Nancy Goats in 2002. I'd written a straw man short story, but wasn't exactly happy about how it turned out, so I held onto it for awhile. The biggest issue was that although I wanted to write about gay issues, especially because of a recent rash of gay bashings in L.A. at the time, I didn't want to be disrespectful to anyone. Thanks to Mikey Huyck and Mike Oliveri for
looking at early versions of this and providing advice.

Thanks also to my Kuai Lua instructor in San Pedro, Mark Nunez, for not only teaching me Hawaiian blend jujutsu, but also for letting me be the bouncer at several MMA matches before UFC was a big deal. That gave me the opportunity to see firsthand fighters and their trainers in small octagon matches in downtown L.A. and Wilmington. I met the normal and the crazy. Most often I couldn't tell the difference between
the two.

Thanks also to Kevin Sessums for his memoir, Mississippi Sissy. Reading this amazing piece of work reminded me that I had yet to finish Nancy Goats and inspired me to complete

So I wrote it. Delirium Books solicited a novella from me for their series and I decided to turn this one in. Serra did the amazing cover (it's a humanized goat in drag), then it came out. For awhile there was nothing but crickets. Then came two reviews back to back. Both of them slammed the book. Both condemned it for not being horror (I think it is). Both also had problems with a thing that happens just over halfway through the book. I can't go into it here, because it is a major spoiler, but there were several  foreshadowing events.

So I sat down and talked with my dad about this book. First of all, let me tell you two things. 1. My dad is an English PHD and a full professor. 2. My dad never reads my work.  For some reason, however, he read this one. Interesting, because it is pretty damn violent and not something I'd consider suitable for a Whitman scholar and an expert on everything Shakespeare. Still, he parsed the violence, understanding that it was needed. When he finished, he called me. He said that he admired my skill with this story, because although it's violent and although it's decidedly horror, it is at it's core a literary story.

Before all of you all go getting your pants in a pretzel, what he meant by that was that the story was centered around the emotional well-being of a character and the issue of identity, rather than anything concrete or physical. There was no quest. There was no physical goal. All there was was a figurative understanding that had to be attained before the story could conclude. I thought this was interesting and appreciate that my dad read one of my books. I also appreciate his comments because I think it puts some of the reviews in perspective. Not that these guys don't read or can't understand a literary story, but I camouflaged it too well. They weren't expecting it. They thought they were going to get a straightforward horror tale of violence and payback, but instead they got something else. Now I get it.

Undead Rat blurbs the story wonderfully: "Nancy Goats is violent but not gory. It's full of hatred and dehumanization because of differences between people. And it's about one young man who has struggled to make an identity for himself and then having to fight to resist the Family Pain's attempt to brutalize and strip away his humanity; lest Paco truly becomes a goat."

Try and pop on over to Undead Rat's Website and give him some props, if nothing more than to click his Publicity Box on top.

Nancy Goats can be found in three places. It's at Amazon for Digital. It's also at Darkside Digital and will get you discounts on other Horror Mall products. And there's also 10 copies of the limited hardcover left at a reasonable price.

I guess now I'm a certified Badass!

Excerpt from Bastardized Version: Wednesday, July 13, 2011ART BY RUSS DICKERSON
Tennessee. Humpback humpback, crooked letter crooked letter. Wait. That's Mississippi.

Okay, let's start over. Tennessee. Home to the Dollywood Mountains and the timeless classic, Hee-Haw. The land is covered verdant rolling hills, cradling Nashville to its ample bosom - the town that brought us Miley Cyrus and Garth Brooks and Regions Bank. Tennessee, known for the dental hygene and higher education of the top 5% of its citizenry - beating out Arkansas and Mississippi by mere fractions. (Thank god for Mississippi and Alabama, sayeth the Arkansan, or we'd always be in last place.) Tennessee, where the barbecue is more piquant than sweet due to the copious use of vinegar.

In this fiery cauldron of country music, religious fervor, snake handling, and gigantic breasts, a warrior was born. A warrior unlike the world has seen before.

A warrior to praise before all others. A warrior whose coming was foretold in the Book of the Dead and the 1957 Almanac.

The original badass, Weston Ochse.

Tennessee, where Weston doesn't live anymore. He lives in Arizona, where all the great warriors of this dimension go to fuck and feast eternally at the Table of Kings, where they serve fajitas, higado encebellado and really strong margaritas, sometimes topped with a shot of Grand Mariner (for only $4.99 more), and other delectable victuals for your eupeptic delight and where it takes a month to get a reservation. There. That's where he lives. Badassville.

Please give a standing 21 gun salute to author Weston Ochse, total badass.

----------

JHJ: Why are you badass? Please explain your badassery.

WO: I've been to 55 countries, jumped out of aircraft, swam in the Coral Sea, hiked through Death Valley, eaten snakes, bugs and maggots, fought for the honor of women, friends and my country, stared down enemy soldiers and fired rounds in certifiable anger. I entered the crucible of badassery and was spat out the other side as a 230 pound man who can kill with chopsticks, eviscerate with a machete, and remove any obstacle by placing the claymore mine with the side that says 'This Side Towards Enemy,' at whatever target I desire and depressing the clicker. I've driven tanks, fired artillery, and boarded U.S. Navy ships at sea. I've faced down cannibals in Papua New Guinea, skipped along the Great Wall of China, played a game of golf through two warring tribes, and pissed on the DMZ between North and South Korea. I've conducted jungle operations in the Golden Triangle, ran from four forest fires, and been stung by more than 200 bees and yellowjackets. I am the badass of badasses. I've convinced bad people to tell me secrets and removed terrorists to places where they can do the least amount of harm. I've walked into prisons in more countries than a redneck has toes and come out the other side without a hair out of place. I've been knocked out three times, had my nose broken eight times, broke my hand, my wrist, my ankles and still came back fighting. I've been a bouncer at UFC cage matches and stared down more badasses that most people see in their entire life. I'm a badass father to two badass kids, son to badass parents, and husband to a wife so badass, I had to up my badassery just to marry her. Yeah, I'm a badass.

JHJ: And you forgot to add that we've both seen General Wesley Clark buck naked. That guy ain't afraid of dropping trou right in the Little Rock Racquet Club locker room, let me tell you. Moving on. What's the most bad-fucking-ass thing you've ever done?

For the rest of my badassery, go here.

PS. John Hornor Jacobs is a badass himself. Keep your eye out for Southern Gods, coming soon from Night Shade. I read an advanced readers copy. That is one Badass Southern Cthulhu book.

The Passage

I'd heard about The Passage since early last year. Then I listened to an interview with the author on NPR. I have to admit, I was immediately intrigued. But like most of us, our TBR piles are gargantuan. So it took me until this summer to get around to reading it.


And I'm glad I did. I didn't think I'd love this book as much as I did. Such a broad sweeping tale, I was doubtful Cronin could hold my interest. But he succeeded not only because of his plotting and pacing, but also by using different narrative framing devices. The latter showed a writing musculature I didn't expect. Cronin's use of stream of consciousness, 3rd Person, first person flashback, or diary entry invigorated The Passage and kept it fresh.

Looking forward to The Twelve. 

Here's an excerpt from the NPR interview that has been archived:

Prof. CRONIN: I decided that I would go about writing this book the way I wrote all my other books. The difference here was one of scale and I suppose also urgency. All novels come down essentially to moments in which characters make choices that they can't un-choose - where things change, they can't be changed back. You can do this at, you know, with an awkward dinner party. Or you can do it by strapping your characters essentially to a runaway train of a plot, which is what I decided I was going to do.

Plot is different from story. Plot is something you can describe in the abstract, it's a series of events, every book's has got one. But story is where plot and character meet - thats where they combine. And I'd learned to be a writer by writing about people, by writing about characters. And that just because I had this very large canvas and very energetic plot, I wasnt going to go about it differently in any way.
I've never met even a secondary character that I didnt want to spend time with and figure them out. For the duration in which Im writing them, they feel like the main character to me. And the way I go about this is I always make sure that I know every character's secret, what they're not telling anybody. And once I do that, their humanity just kind of ignites.

But the range of characters in this book is, you know, much broader than anything I'd attempted before. And each time I went into a new character, you know, a homeless man in Houston, Texas who ends up on Death Row; an FBI agent; a sort of mystical nun from Sierra Leone - I mean, this is the kind of range that I had in this book and it was it was a lot of work and required a lot of concentration. But it was also really a lot of fun to do it. I got to have this whole vast cast of imaginary friends for the duration of writing the book.

Slight Spoiler--The only problem I did have was with his character Auntie. She was too much like Mother Abigail. Her character was unneeded and served only to remind me continuously of Stephen King's The Stand.