This Kills Me

Every damn time.

Passing the Torch of Rock

Tonight I took a big leap of faith and resigned myself to several days of nervousness. Sid left with a dufflebag full of clothes and a backpack full of graphic novels, headed over to his friend Dustin's to spend the night, as he and his band, JUDGMENT HAMMER, are embarking on their first long road trip for a rock show. We aren't talking about a trip to someplace like Bozeman, or even Seattle. No, they are on their way to Albuquerque, NM. They were invited to play a big thrash metal festival there called THRASHAGEDDON II!

When all the other parents said yes, I couldn't say no. I made some rules that he needed to abide by over the last couple months, and he held up his end of the bargain. It was still tough to say yes, because he is only 16 (for only just over another month), but I just put myself in his shoes. If I'd had an opportunity like that when I was his age, and my folks said no (they wouldn't have, I don't think), I would have been crushed. I know the two main guys in his band -- they are older by several years, and I've done shows with them in the past, and I feel good enough about it. Good enough, actually, but it's kind of scary.

I can't help but reflect on the boy's musical career to date. He's come a long way. His first show ever as a drummer was in our family band, Tater Pig. It was Sid, Julia and me. We played the Crazy Daisy, a now-defunct clothing store in Missoula, on March 3rd, 2006. His big debut was on the washboard.

We only played a handful of songs, and he did rock the kit -- tentatively -- as well.

Some time later (you can measure elapsed time based on both Sid, and my, hair growth; the show was 12/01/2006), the mighty Pig played our second show. Also in a clothing store -- this time it was Betty's Divine.

Like everything else Betty's-related, it was a blast. Next up, in January '07, we played the infamous "Vomit Show" at Higgins Hall in Missoula. This was Sid's one and only experimentation with using hair straightener. He also started feeling sick -- really sick -- but delivered the goods. As soon as our set was over, though, he bolted for the bathroom and hurled.


In April, Betty's invited us to play their "Promtana" event, at Crystal Theater. Sid and his buddy Will were dressed to the 9s again in thrift store polyester. The show was a blast, with a large, enthusiastic crowd . . . and we played pretty damn well too!

Tater Pig had a short but glorious run. We did some great shows -- like the historic Club Congress in Tucson.

We played a fun show at Mississippi Pizza in Portland.

As well as return engagements in Missoula, like Higgins Hall and The Badlander.

By this point Sid was getting eager to get in a band with kids his own age and play some METAL. We wanted to document what we'd done, and went into the studio to record some songs.

Here is the recording of our cover of "Wicked Annabella" by The Kinks.

And this is our version of the old Son House classic, "Death Letter."

We recorded some of our own stuff too, but I really like these two songs. We never did anything with these recordings, though maybe some day we will. I love how odd these songs sound; ragged and jangly, a little out of tune, and unique. I haven't listened to any of this stuff in quite a long time.

Our last show was at the Missoula Public Library, in 2008, I guess. I don't have any pictures, but I have the entire thing on video. Who knows, maybe some day we'll do a reunion.

About this time Sid was just getting started playing with some kids his age, when he was called into service to drum for my band, LAZERWOLFS, for a tour we had booked. I've told that story here before, of course, but it mainly hinged on our regular drummer getting crossways with the law about two weeks before tour and not being able to go. So we drafted Sid and made him learn about a set's worth of our songs just so that we wouldn't have to cancel. The first show he did with us was this outdoor flop of an event called the Snakepit Rally.

Here are a couple songs recorded live, right off the sound board. They're pretty raw, but keep in mind he'd only had about a week to prepare. I love that straight off the board stuff -- it's so flat and weird sounding!

This is a cover of "Living Backwards" by Saint Vitus.

And this is the Lazerwolfs classic, "Prowl."

Immediately thereafter we were on the road. He learned what it's like to play every night, sweat like crazy, and earn some battle scars.

I'd sort of hoped the long drives and interminable boredom of the road would sour him on Rock, but it had the opposite effect. He loved it.

Next up was his career in HELLIANA.

These guys didn't start out so good, but by the end of their run they were pretty damn solid . . . as long as their guitar player was showing up regularly for band practice.

Here they are playing the Missoula Library in January of 2009.



The last year or so of the band was touch and go, because they didn't really know what their guitar player was going to do. Dustin and Sid joined up with Judgment Hammer and were playing in both bands simultaneously, until Shrederick (Helliana guitar player) moved to Oregon. I was pretty blown away the first time I saw Sid playing in Judgment Hammer, because in order to play with those guys he had to get a lot better in a hurry. He did that.



Look, I know that if you don't like thrash metal you probably don't get it, and these horrible digital camera videos don't help. But when I watch Sid's bands play, I don't like them just because it's my kid in the band, it's because I appreciate their music and the effort they exert to make it happen. I'm there as a fan, headbanging with the kids up front, and I love it. I'm not alone -- obviously someone in New Mexico appreciates them enough to be putting up a decent chunk of money to have them come play. No one ever asked, and paid for, Lazerwolfs to go anywhere particularly cool to play, that's for sure.

What's a bummer is this band will probably exist only until about July or so, as one of the guitar players is moving away for school. Sid and Dustin are bummed, but already making plans for what they will do next.

That's a worry for another day, though. Tomorrow Sid heads out with his band on his first real rock journey and back, without his old man. I thought about driving them down there, as did Dustin's dad, but ultimately we both realized this was their time. I see it as "Rite of Passage" in a sense. Yeah, I'm damn nervous, but I'm also pretty proud. I realize music will break his heart as often as not, but I also know how euphoric it will make him feel at times. And I know he is feeling that euphoria right now.

Be careful, fellas. Come home safe.

Wasted Guy vs. Flip Flop

"Here are 98 of the most agonizing god damn seconds you're likely to find on the internet." -- Bryan White, Editor, Cinema Suicide (a horror 'zine).

The Shamble for Survival

My Saturday started with a trip downtown to run the 38th Annual Riverbank Run. I hadn't run in this thing literally since I was in junior high; I believe back then it was called the "Mini Marathon." Originally when I was planning out my year and setting goals, I had intended to run the 10K. Then I had some injury things going on that limited some of my training so I had to settle for the 5K, but at least I friggin' did it. I'm not much of a runner, but it is a good barometer of one's fitness.

It was pretty fun and exciting, especially at the start when all the people were crammed into the starting area right on Higgins and Broadway downtown. When the gun went off, it was weird to be in this big, chaotic mass of people starting to surge forward, up and over the Higgins Bridge, and beyond. I felt pretty good, and the first mile went by pretty quick, then I started having these serious shin pains. It was weird. I had had them before when I first took up jogging again way back when. It's possible my legs just weren't used to the surface, because I never run on pavement. I actually had to walk quite a bit, which is unusual because I've been running 3 miles at a time fairly regularly lately.

One thing that was funny was that with about a half mile to go, I was starting to pick up my pace and finding it very difficult -- I'm usually pretty good about having energy at the end of a run -- and the song "Done Got Old" by Heartless Bastards came on (which is actually a cover of a Junior Kimbrough song). I had to laugh to myself at the lyrics. "Can't do the things I used to 'cuz I feel old!"



Great song, great band. I think they base themselves in Austin now, but I know they originated in Dayton, Ohio. At least Erika Wennerstrom is from there, but the rest of the band lineup has changed over the years. They're on a great label too, Fat Possum. And they are playing Bozeman at the Filling Station on May 8th. I may have to go see them. That place is such a dive, but would be a phenomenal venue to see them in.

So the run was a labor, and not the breeze I'd hoped it would be, but at least I did it. Much to my surprise I didn't hate it either; it's a good barometer of where I am vs. where I want to be. There is another run in June where I will aim to do the 10K. Not sure about my plans to run the half marathon in July, but if I get in a good groove between now and then it isn't unthinkable. Even if I just run most of it and waddle the rest. We'll see.

Julia snapped a couple pictures of me at the finish line.

I didn't see her, otherwise I might have made an obscene gesture of some kind. I wasn't that tired -- my lungs were holding their own -- but my legs were on fire. Of course it takes a lot of oomph! to haul my fat ass around, so can you blame them?

Here I am making my way through the crowd. I'm pretty sure I'm smiling because I saw that the Mini Donuts truck was one of the venders.

Oddly enough, even with all the walking I did, my time was still faster than it has been in training. So when I was running, I must have been running faster than usual. "Fast" being a relative term here, though, folks; let's not get ahead of ourselves. It was a good place to start (I was 27th out of 37 people in my age category), and it's nice to have something to measure future efforts against.

Movie Night

Saturday night we went and saw The Losers. It's another movie based on a graphic novel, but not one that I'd read. Seeing the trailers, and the cast involved, I had high hopes.



It had its moments, and a couple nice twists, but for the most part I was disappointed. Not so much that it was bad, but that it could have been so much better. Like I told Julia after seeing it, I wish more directors would understand that using cinematography and creative camera placement and interesting shots is good filmmaking. Gunking the film up in the editing room with herky-jerky cut scenes, slow motion and weird video effects isn't. That stuff was very distracting to me in this particular movie, and it irritated me. And I was primed to enjoy a big dumb action movie. I swear, if another movie shows a group shot from a distance, with the members spread out walking toward the camera in slow motion like they're a bunch of badasses, I'm going to hurl. This director seemed like a kid discovering iMovie for the first time and using every possible little trick in every possible spot. A real misfire on something that could have been -- should have been -- awesome. It's not terrible, and it's mostly fun, but it wasn't nearly what I'd hoped it would be. Then again, I did have pretty high expectations, so who knows what others will think.

This Just In!

The mailman delivers the goods for the fourth time in a week (first was my copy of Needle Magazine; second was the new Victor Gischler novel, The Deputy; and third was yesterday's delivery of issue one of Sgt. Zero)!

This is the new issue of World Explorer Magazine, featuring an article by yours truly.

It's about the Gabriel Hunt novels that have been dreamed up and published by Charles Ardai of Hard Case Crime. The best part was the thirty-odd minutes I spent on the phone with Charles discussing the books. If you haven't read them, you're missing out, because they are a blast -- thrilling pulp adventure yarns like nothing else you can find being published these days. The latest one just came out earlier this month, and was written by the lovely, dangerous and talented Christa Faust. Of course she gets a mention in the article as well.

I don't know if it's out on newsstands yet or not, or even where you can get it (I discovered it at Hastings in Missoula), but keep your eyes open for it. The entire magazine is a lot of fun, and Gabriel Hunt fits the theme perfectly.

A Whole Lot of Miscellanea

Find Your Inner Altruist

My friend, Lori, fellow writer and frequent commenter on this blog, has a 4yo son who loves superheroes, is self-proclaimed "pretty tough too," and also has Cystic Fibrosis. Lori is participating in GREAT STRIDES here in Missoula to help raise funds to find a cure. If you can spare a few bucks, click on over to her sponsorship page and send some money her way.

Ka-BOOM!

Tired of all the talk and freak-outs about the volcano in Iceland? Well dig all these pictures at this link because they are friggin' awesome. Here are a couple to whet your appetite.

Don't Be a Tool . . . Like This Guy Is

Last week I saw a post from literary agent Colleen Lindsay about a writer who queried her who didn't take kindly to her rejection. Anyway, you can see her entire post about it HERE, which details her rejection as well as his response. It is well worth checking out. His response is golden enough to warrant my re-post:

Colleen Lindsay:

Thank you for making it clear, through your response to my query, that you are unquipped (sic) to represent fiction writers who are working at the very highest level today.

Best of luck with your list of minor writers, third-rate writers, irrelevant writers, non-writers.

You lose, silly woman.


UPDATE! Another note from Mr. R------!
Colleen Lindsay:

Your most recent message to me was deleted without being read.

(Note: I am unclear as to what he is referring, other than possibly the auto-responder he probably got for not following submission guidelines.)

Your initial absurd email made it clear that you could have nothing intelligent or perceptive to say to me.

You've missed a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, babe.

Perhaps you should consider a career change: selling used cars might be a more appropriate profession for someone of your lack of acuity.

I googled this guy, and found his website. His author photo is, hands down, the greatest thing I've ever seen.

Yeah, that's some drop dead sexy there. That will move a lot of books. Especially if it's used on the cover of a gay erotica book.

I don't know, though. You think that level of narcissism works for an author photo? Should I try and go Full Drama and Sexy for mine?

Yeah, you're feelin' that, aren't you? Maybe that is the ticket!

Why I Never Played a Cleric in D&D

Did you hear about the whackadoo cleric in Iraq who blames women for all the earthquakes lately? He says, among other things:

"Many women who do not dress modestly ... lead young men astray, corrupt their chastity and spread adultery in society, which increases earthquakes,"

What'll these guys think of next? Well, this isn't something women should take, er, standing up. Bring on BOOBQUAKE!

McCreight has invited women to wear their “most cleavage-showing shirt” or “short shorts” on Monday, April 26^th to test and disprove the theory that revealing clothing causes earthquakes. The Facebook event already has over 83 000 attendees.

I'll be keeping an eye or two on how this event develops.

Small Dogs in Full Flight are Hilarious

A Dramatization of a Face-to-Face

That's Kim Kardashian, one of my -- and Julia's -- favorite celebrities for purely visual reasons. She's always showing up online on some beach somewhere. What a life, eh? Anyway, see the look on her face? I think that's a pretty good idea of how she'd react if I were the softbody approaching her.

Except I'd never be caught dead in shorts with St. Louis Rams colors, I'd never be on the beach in friggin' New Balance sneakers, and I think we've established a few images above that I'm sporting just a little more manly hair than this guy. In fact, I'm pretty sure if she saw me on the beach she'd strike a pose more like this:

Save Your Ears

I'll close with this public service announcement from the Missoulian's Joe Nickell, with art by the magnificent Josh Quick.

Hey, it may be too late for me, but it doesn't have to be for you.

Like Driving Splinters Under My Own Fingernails

In an email from a writer friend of mine recently, she lamented the fact it had taken her 4 hours to write the 209 words that will comprise the jacket copy on her forthcoming novel. That's pretty brutal. It got me thinking of the dreaded synopsis, an exercise every writer must face with each novel they write, as if low income and meager health insurance weren't already providing enough suffering. Personally, I hate the damn things.

On the surface, it seems like it should be easy. In one of the writing workshops I took we talked about writing them before one even starts the novel as kind of a first pass "blueprint" for what is supposed to happen. That's one thing, because at that point you really don't have a whole lot of energy vested in the story; it's more like an initial outline. But after you've labored for hours and hours and days and weeks and months to create a manuscript that most likely exceeds at least 65,000 or so words -- maybe even double that -- how are you supposed to boil all that blood and tears into a short, to-the-point summation of what the story is about?

I'm not talking about a long synopsis -- I've seen references to a page for every 25 pages of manuscript being used as a rule of thumb -- that a writer may be asked for if the initial query passes muster. I'm talking the handful of paragraphs you have at your disposal as part of that initial query that has to grab an agent or editor's attention right out of the gate. That is the hard part.

As an example, I have this little bit for a 23,000ish word Pulp Western novella I wrote that I am thinking of expanding to a full novel. I don't even know if it's particularly good as a representation of what I'm talking about, but I'll say I have sent it out once already to an outlet which, as of yet, doesn't seem to be falling all over themselves to publish:

Score Settled with Sixguns

In the city of Butte, Montana, in 1953, Eliza Thompson is a young newspaper reporter just getting her start. She is sent to Our Lady of Mercy General Hospital to interview a patient, an eccentric old businessman new to the valley who has specifically requested her to be the chronicler of his story. He reveals to her that in his younger days he was wanted by the law as “the outlaw ‘Badger’ Tom Cassaday, one of the deadliest, most cold-blooded of killers this nation has ever known.”

Cassaday’s story begins in Deadwood, South Dakota, in 1876. It culminates with a brutal killing in 1889 that ends a long trail of vengeance, closes the door on a bitter love triangle, and ties him to the young reporter in a way she could never have foreseen. Cassaday, an aged invalid, relates his life story knowing full well that revealing the truth he has carried for decades will likely lead to a pistol in his hand one final time, facing a man who wants nothing more than to see him dead.

Score Settled with Sixguns is a bloody tale of pistols, greed, and double-crosses over women set in the American West of the late 1800s. It is for readers who like their heroes gritty, their women beautiful, and their villains riddled with bullets.

That's just a couple hundred words, and while I don't think it took me four hours to come up with, it was still a royal pain in the ass. Then again, at a finished tally of 23,000 words, the entire story is maybe only a third or less of what any full-length book would have to deal with. I've been over it and over it, tweaking it, and even then I don't know how effective it is at really getting to the heart of what the book is about. That, combined with just the first few pages (or, if I'm real lucky, the first two or three chapters), would need to make an agent or editor excited about reading the whole thing. That's quite a lot to pull off in just a few words.

I looked at the synopsis of another project I've been working on. This is the story I wrote as part of NaNoWriMo last November, though the 50,000 I wrote over that month will ultimately expand to 70K - 80K when it's complete. Along the way I've decided to make quite a few changes to what I've already written too, so there is more work left to be done to wrap that up. Still, it's shaping up nicely.

But the synopsis? Awful. Worse than awful. The book is my attempt at writing a pulp superhero novel that is about a man recruited to be the US government's "official" superhero. It's kind of an alternate history thing that takes place in modern times that I've tried to pack with some elements of noirish crime fiction. Hey, it's an experiment that I realize probably ain't all that publishable but I still want to finish the damn thing. So while I'm fairly happy with a lot of the actual novel, and I think much of it is fun and action-packed and works, the synopsis I wrote makes it seem so utterly cliche and predictable that I second guess myself about whether it's even worth working on. I read my synopsis tonight and asked myself, "Is this piece of shit really the book I've been working on?"

Ultimately, I don't know that there is any easy way to write an attention grabbing synopsis. I've read many how-tos and overviews, and none have made it seem any easier. I think as a writer you just have to roll up your sleeves and do it. Then edit it, and edit some more, and grab strangers on the street or in the airport and force them to read it and see if it seems interesting to them, over and over until you just can't deal with it any more. And then send it out with your query, and maybe, maybe, if the gods of writing are smiling, you might get asked to submit the novel. Or, worse, a more detailed synopsis.

THE ART OF MANLINESS by Brett and Kate McKay (Book Review)

At some point last year I stumbled upon a website called The Art of Manliness, "a blog dedicated to uncovering the lost art of being a man." I believe another blog I follow linked to an article there, and I got a kick out of what I found. The About page from their website explains what it's all about:

The Art of Manliness is authored by husband and wife team, Brett and Kate McKay. It features articles on helping men be better husbands, better fathers, and better men. In our search to uncover the lost art of manliness, we’ll look to the past to find examples of manliness in action. We’ll analyze the lives of great men who knew what it meant to “man up” and hopefully learn from them. And we’ll talk about the skills, manners, and principles that every man should know.

I found many of the articles interesting (for example, how to's about using various tools; entering a room with confidence; leaping from a speeding car; and reading lists of "manly" fiction and adventure stories), and a good blend of practical information and tongue-in-cheek humor. When the book came out, I bought it on something of a whim, just because I thought, and still feel, that the idea and the themes are pretty cool. It sat on my dresser for some time before I finally got around to reading it. My wife actually read it before I did, and gave it the thumbs-up.

The Art of Manliness: Classic Skills and Manners for the Modern Man is essentially an extension of the website into book form. It is a collection of articles that provide information on everything from practical skills, like how to be a perfect houseguest, to some that lean farther toward the humorous (how to give a man hug, for example). There are tips on fighting like a gentleman, instructions on how to change a flat tire, and musings on fatherhood and providing children with rites of passage. There is even a section detailing how to land a plane in an emergency.

Fun as it is, the theme that runs through it is a compelling one. Men really have dropped the ball when it comes to being gentlemen. The book strives to get across the point that we can look to some of the cultural norms from "back in the day" and reclaim some of those "manly" attributes without being the misogynist pigs that dominated much of those eras. Being mindful of how we treat other people, owning our responsibilities, and always putting our best foot forward are notions that plenty of us could do better at living up to. The ideas are simple, and it does make one think. I don't think one must be a man to benefit from the bulk of the advice either. The last chapter on Virtue is particularly interesting, and would be beneficial to all readers, men and women alike.

That's not to say I totally agree with everything written here. In particular, I found some of the examples of "real life" or "today's man" a little off-putting by the time I reached the end of the book. It seems to suggest that every man is some white collar corporate stooge trying to make his way up the ladder. I don't recall one instance of an anecdote relating to a blue collar working man being used in the text, and that is unfortunate. Believe me, there is just as much stress and irritation to deal with in the grimy world of punching out parts and building machines as there is in cubicle hell. Nor was much thought given to what I think is the pinnacle of manliness -- sticking it to the friggin Man. If there's anything I find particularly loathesome it's how men have become such a collection of two-faced suck-ups. We aren't all striving to get that corner office. Some of us, frankly, couldn't give less of a shit about that. The very things that have made so many men such jerks needing a smack upside the head have really fucked up our culture and world too. Remaking that entire hierarchical construct is going to take a lot of men, and women, putting their best feet forward to overcome. Trying to be a good man while buying into the rest of the bullshit about "how things are" is just pissing into the hurricane.

Regardless of these minor quibbles, I enjoyed the book. Aesthetically, it's wonderful. The cover art is done so that the book looks old and battered, and the paper used for the jacket feels somehow different from the usual trade paperback -- I don't know what it is, some kind of matte finish or something, but I like it. It's easy to read, with lots of sidebars and quotations, and the interior art made me chuckle more than once. Clearly a lot of thought and care went into producing this book, and it shows in the final product. I can definitely appreciate that.

A fine effort from the McKays, an effort that continues to gather steam online. I'm sure everyone knows a man or two who could really benefit from reading a book like this!

Six Down, One to Go!

I really don't have much of an idea of who looks at this blog outside of the handful who regularly comment. I imagine the ones who are addicted to writing blogs and crime fiction and all that are pretty tired of seeing so many posts about a fashion design contest, but whatever. Julia would totally shout it to the world if I ever started kicking ass with my creative pursuits, and I feel the same way about what she's doing. Besides, it's fun.

April 16th: Challenge Six -- The Fantasy Design

This would be the final challenge before the Grand Finale to determine the overall winner. With only four contestants remaining, one needed to be eliminated so that three could advance to determine the champion. This time around the designers were told to close their eyes and imagine themselves as some alternate version of themselves, and what they would like to be. They were allowed 5 yards of a single color of fabric, plus they could then accessorize it with whatever they wanted to.

Jodi imagined herself as a child again, and dressed her daughter in a little pink faerie outfit. While she talked about her design, Caryn and Candice looked on.

Candice said her alternate self lived on a world where it was never cold and was always sunny, and she could fly around like a Jetson's character.

As soon as Caryn came out, it was clear that she was sporting a totally different identity. This was her "power suit" as they called it; bitchy and brash is what she was trying to portray, which is totally different from her real personality.

There was some serious questioning and answering going on with the judges. My mom and sister, in the background to the right, are clearly focused on the goings-on here.

Of course I only had eyes for Julia.

Especially when she was walking away.

Of course coming back wasn't too bad either.

She's really a striking woman, if I may say so myself. She's 5'10" in her stocking feet, but when she throws her big heels on she's about 6'2" or 6'3". That made her about the tallest person in the room! I have to remember to wear my boots just to stay even with her. She gets a kick out of that.

Julia talked about making some kind of "explorer" outfit, but the right color fabric wasn't available. Then she talked about how she's always fancied some kind of monastic existence, which would come as a surprise to people who know her, but that she realized she couldn't handle the celibacy part. So this was her "When God Was a Woman" alter-ego. In a nutshell, she was dressed up as her version of a Priestess of the Goddess, growing up surrounded by women with no notions of ever getting married, etc. But having other "duties" as well, as she called them, as it relates to menfolk -- if you catch my meaning. It was definitely a PG-13 rated critique/explanation session with the judges; I was a little disappointed, because I wanted her to go Full R. Oh well. I guess someone needs to think about the children. She looked great.

Julia and Caryn were standing next to each other when they learned they tied for the popular vote (I teased our friend Autumn and her sister, who came to watch but showed up late, that if they'd showed up in time to vote then Julia would have won the popular vote).

When all was said and done, Julia was judged the winner of the challenge (woo hoo!) and she advanced to the finals with Caryn and Candice. That event is in three weeks, on May 7th. You won't hear any more about it until it's imminent, so rest easy!

After all the festivities we went next door to the new tapas restaurant, The Silk Road, and had dinner with Autumn and her sister (whose name continues to escape me). The food was great, and the company was even better. All in all it was a great night!