SHAWN WRITES….A COMIC BOOK!

Finally I can live up to the title of this blog, I have WRITTEN!

Not only have I written (I actually write a lot) but a thing I wrote is COMING TO A STORE NEAR YOU! Now I will give you a moment to collect yourselves.

 

Composed? Good because now we need to get into the nitty-gritty, the fun stuff that we have been building to since the day I launched this pathetic excuse for a blog. There is some information I need to impart and a few pleas that I must make but rest assured it will all be accompanied by pretty pictures to look at. Like this:

What you see is some of the very first color pages I’ve gotten in of a book I co-wrote called, “Pixies”, which was announced today as officially available for pre-order from Arcana Comics via Diamond Distribution.

Once again let me repeat that oh so crucial information:

PIXIES – an original graphic novel

Can be ordered using: DIAMOND ORDER # NOV10 0715

.....SHIPS JAN 2011!

I am beyond excited for this book, more so by the fact that the art and coloring look extensively better than I could ever have hoped for.

I know what you’re thinking as you read this, something along the lines of, sure you wrote a comic and the art looks great but is it any good? Does it have a plot and character that I’ll actually give a shit about?

To this I say, “Of course it does! Now stop thinking in italics and dig on this…”

Our story follow two of the fellows depicted in the above page. The guy in his boxers by the sink is our human protagonist, Joe. As you can see Joe has had nothing but bad luck his entire life. Anything that can go wrong always does, but Joe doesn’t let it get him down. He never assumes for a moment it could be anything other than plain old bad luck. What he doesn’t realize is that our pixie protagonist, Sam, has dedicated his life to making sure that black cloud follows Joe forever.

You see Joe did something in his past that caused him the unlucky fate of the Pixie Curse, condemning him to a life of pain humiliation and failure.

However, all of this changes the day Joe catches Sam the Pixie under a glass in his kitchen and demands the curse be lifted. Almost instantly his luck changes for the better.

Now Joe has a chance to win the heart of the girl of his dreams but only if he can do it before Sam escapes his drinking-glass prison and alerts the rest of the pixies.

It’s a whopper of a book, over 90 pages, and that serves as the set up to what myself and the other writers involved (creator and Arcana owner, Sean O’Reilly as well as co-writer Robert Olmedo) hope to be a fun and hilarious book that comic fans can read to their kids.

Hopefully I’ve piqued your interest with this tiny glimpse into the world of Pixies. There is a strong possibility that a much larger company will be helping us get this book into Border and Barnes and Noble but until I have that info  and because at heart I’m a huge comic book nerd, I would like to request you find your LOCAL COMIC SHOP (which you can do by clicking on those words) and brave the perhaps intimidating surroundings, muster up to the proprietor and (politely) ask to pre-order a copy of the PIXIES HARDCOVER FROM ARCANA COMICS. At which point he will likely not know what your talking about but that’s okay because you’re capable and always come prepared and you’ve brought along the following information:

PIXIES – an original graphic novel

DIAMOND ORDER # NOV10 0715

.....SHIPS JAN 2011!

After the comic shop guy acknowledges he will order you a copy (which helps not just you but also others because usually he’ll order more than just one and stick the copies you don’t by out onto the shelf for others to stumble into), ask you how to contact you when your copy arrives and send you on your way.

 

As we get closer to the release of the book I will post a lettered preview of the book either here or somewhere just as easily accessible. Thanks in advance for reading or even being curious. Certainly pass this blog link along to anyone who you think might enjoy these types of things.

 

   From the Compound,

                           Shawn D.

Seekrit Projects, Sims and Slacking Off or "How I Wasted A Weekend Playing Video Games and Last Minute Lettering"

It's Monday.

It's Monday?!?

Fuck. My weekend flew by and looking back I'm not sure where it went.

That isn't true. I know exactly where it went....to a town called Sunset Valley.

I've been introduced to the world of the SIMS and I have to say I think I have a problem. For years I've heard about these games (mostly from my two younger sisters, HI GIRLS) but never paid them much mind until this weekend.

SIMS 3 was downloaded on Saturday night and by Sunday night at 9pm I had populated an entire household with computer-generated people whose lives are more involved and exciting than my own. This isn't an admission of my pathetic life (actually my life has been highly entertaining and busy over the last few months) but more an admiring of the programmers ability to create a world that I was totally immersed in after only fifteen minutes of game-play. If you've played this game before then I'm sure I'm preaching to the choir but if you haven't and you have a proclivity to these sorts of time-wasters I HIGHLY recommend giving it a shot.

What I SHOULD have been doing all weekend is lettering/editing comics. In fairness, I had a big project on Friday night/Saturday morning that I put a ton or hours into and finished moments before the 11am deadline Saturday morning. Still, that was one of three books I'm juggling right now and although the deadlines for the other two books aren't as tight, I should have been focused on those become my weekdays/nights have been a wash as far as getting any kind of lettering work accomplished.

None of this even takes my writing into account. Finding the time to write, letter, edit, and work my day job has transformed my life into a series of spinning plates on top of long sticks. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I would much prefer to be busy rather than not, but now a new problem of how to juggle all these activities without burning out has appeared.

Priorities become muddled when you're involved with many different passions at once. I'm a writer at heart and in the long run that's where I want to end up, but writing doesn't pay the bills. I love making comics and lettering but that only pays a few bills (READ: NOT MANY). The day job, PAing on a TV show, is what's keeping a roof over my head but isn't exactly where I want my career to stop climbing. On top of all of that there is my love for being lazy, watching too much TV and generally having an aversion to too much structure.

My solution to all of this has been to work really hard on all fronts for a few weeks and then take a two day weekend to complete waste on something inconsequential like playing The Sims 3 all weekend. It is a good life when your biggest problems are to narrow down which fun task you want to accomplish in a week/weekend.

Not sure if all of this makes for a good blog or not, it was just on my mind and need to get out. Sorry if it's not as funny or entertaining as usual (and honestly, how funny or entertaining am I usually?) but sometimes you catch me at an introspective crossroads.

For more silly posts and less ruminations on life and career I would direct you to the new tumblr that my roommate and I have started: http://blazedandneurotic.tumblr.com/

He's the neurotic one, although from just reading this blog post you that might not be clear. I swear I'm not normally this self-reflective.

Human fetus found...

I got no direction for this post today so I may start to ramble. If my semi-coherant ramblings annoy or bore you I suggest you skip today's blog post. No hard feelings. Seriously, I won't be offended. Look here's a happy panda to prove it:

Still there? Good.

Hi. I'm Shawn and I was recently let go from my day job. There's a bitter-sweetness to getting let go from a job you're not committed to. On the one hand I have no job which means I have no money which could become a problem for my landlord at some point. On the other hand, I have no job which also means I can stay up late, look at porn in the day time and drive around laughing at people stuck in traffic because I don't actually have anywhere important to be. Also I can get a lot of writing and lettering done.

Speaking of lettering, as luck would have it, I just picked up three new jobs.

To RECAP: just got fired. just got hired.
It's the scary world of freelancing and I'm at the heart of it. It's not ideal, I mean I'd love to have a steady day job that paid a lot and I loved but so far all of those elements haven't aligned. Instead it seems the things I love the most are the least stable (this could be extended to the girl I love as well but that's another blog all together).

Here is a picture of bacon:

In other news...

- I'd like to apologize to anyone who watched Trauma last night as per my suggestion. Last nights episode was lame and utterly boring. It was embarrassing all the way to the end, especially knowing I'd just soapboxed about it's greatness. Usually there is more violence and mishaps and less stupid character moments and whining.

- New York City has announced that starting today there will be FREE WI-FI AVAILABLE IN TIMES SQUARE! You can find more info if you click HERE.

- Know who is STILL pretty hot even though she hasn't stopped aging? Gina Gershon:

- Do you believe in ghosts? Like REALLY believe? Me neither but my friends over at horrorsquad.com seem to have found what they believe to be the most convincing footage to date. GO HERE and check it out. I watched it and was no more creeped out than when I saw Paranormal Activity (which was terrible and NOT scary).

-I read a lot of news online. My google reader has over 200 feeds and on a given day I have well over 1000+ articles to read/browse. Out of all of those possible stories, every so often, there is a standout headline that catches my eye and refuses to let go. This one comes from the Miami Herald and it's my favorite in a long time. :

Human fetus found in Orlando waste water tank

The Associated Press

A human fetus has been found in an Orlando waste water tank.Orlando Police say an employee of the Water Conservation Plant found the fetus Thursday morning and called authorities.
The Medical Examiner's Office says the fetus is 14-15 weeks gestational age. There is no criminal investigation being conducted at this time.

Not a huge article but GOD FUCKING DAMN if that title doesn't put asses in seats I don't know what will. I do want to note that I find it weird that there is "NO CRIMINAL INVESTIGATION" happening at all. It makes me wonder: why the fuck not? It is assumed this fetus accidentally dropped out of a lady while she was on the toilet and got flushed? Do they think the fetus slipped out whilst some lady was swimming in a public lake and it got filtered into a waste tank?

Now, I'm not pro-life by any means. I don't believe a fetus is a life but I do think if someone drops their unborn baby into a PUBLIC WASTE AREA that should be considered a crime. At the very least it's littering.


That's all the time I have for today. You've been wonderful. Please send thoughts, concerns and comments to the white box marked "comments", all will be publish and some will be replied.

REEL BIG FISH: The Comic That (ALMOST) Happened

UPDATED WITH MORE ART SKIP TO THE BOTTOM FOR MORE A SAMPLE COVER!!!!

Up until about Ninth Grade I didn't really care about music outside of the oldies my parents listened to. Then I discovered musical theater albums and movie soundtracks. Even with the soundtracks I wouldn't have called myself music obsessive. I may have liked certain songs but was never inclined to seek out more from any one specific band.

Jump ahead roughly ten years later: I love music now and actively search out anything new I can find. I have over twelve-thousand songs on my ITunes. At one time I had two 80 gig IPods that couldn't hold all the music I had acquired. So what changed? How did I go from being only partially interested in music to a full out music lover?



It started with a band called "Reel Big Fish" and their third major release, an album titled "Why Do They Rock So Hard". The RBF are a ska-punk band that formed during the height of the 3rd wave revival of ska in the mid 90's. Here's some info from their WIKI page:

Reel Big Fish is an American ska punk band from Huntington Beach, California, best known for the 1997 hit "Sell Out." The band gained mainstream recognition in the mid-to-late 1990s, during the third wave of ska with the release of the album Turn the Radio Off. Founding member Aaron Barrett has been with the band since 1992, and horn players Dan Regan and Scott Klopfenstein have been involved with the band for more than 14 years.

Their music was life changing for me. Their sound was hard but fun. Their lyrics were silly yet infused with a type of discontent that was familiar to me. They sang about being rejected, hurt and frustrated on some tracks. They also sang about being in the mosh pit, being vegetarian and having a lesbian ex-girlfriend. Their themes are eclectic but all of them struck a cord somewhere inside Young Shawn. Their music and lyrics combined into a sound and mood that seemed to be speaking direct to me. Their frantic energy was just like mine; scattered but mostly geared toward making people laugh and smile. They were and remain my favorite band.

In 2005 I contacted the RBF's manager Vince with a proposal to write and produce a comic about and starring the band. Vince could not have been nicer and was quick to put me in touch with two of the band members who I was to meet in person while they were on tour in South FLorida (where I lived at the time). Just reaching this point alone was a dream realized. I hung with the band, we discussed my ideas for the type of book it should be and the kinds of things they wanted to have in it.

When the meeting was over I had a legal pad full of notes and a brain bursting with ideas. I went home to start scripting with my buddy Dave (the guy who introduced me to the RBF in the first place) and we came up with a series of short stories, each focusing on one or two members of the band. Some of them were spoofs of super hero comics, one was a cooking segment, another (which you'll see at the end of this post) was a Tales From The Crypt type story. Part of me wants to post the full script here (and I might) but I'm reluctant because I still hold a thread of hope that this project might someday find its legs.

So what the hell happened, Shawn? Why don't I have an RBF comic in my hand right now?

The answer is both complicated and simple. The short version goes like this: after loosing a few artists and then gaining a few we seemed to be on track. Then the band lost a member who had factored into the book pretty heavily, but with some quick rewrites that was taken care of. The killing blow was when one of the founding members of the band, Matt Wong, announced he was leaving the band to be a family man. At this point there was so much art drawn that included him we would have either had to publish the book as is or struggle to have it all redrawn.

Ultimately the book stalled and has sat on my hard drive ever since.

It's sad to me that I could never give the band the gift of an awesome, published comic book. That's maybe the worst part. I just wanted to be able to give back to them. This was to be my "thank you" for being the greatest ska band in the entire world. Maybe someday we'll get to make this actually happen but until then, this blog post will have to suffice. Thanks guys.

Now I don't want your time to be wasted here at Shawn Writes so I'm going to end this with a never-before-seen look at one of the "Reel Big Fish: The Comic" short stories that was completed in its entirety. The art is provided by Andrew Drilon.

This story is called "I'm The Bad Guy", enjoy:




There it is. Any thoughts?


UPDATE: Here is some more art I found. This is Zac Trover's proposed cover:

 

DEFORMED BABIES

Sometimes I have stories or ideas that I absolutely love. I mean I really, truly love them. They are like babies. Which is why when they don't work out I don't just stop working on them and walk away. How could I? If you had a retarded kid would you kick it to the curb? While instinct might be to run from the deformed, mentally challenged monster that sprung from your loins, most people don't. Instead you do your best to raise that child, teach it to function as best it can in this cruel world and love it with all your heart because, after all, it's your child.

So, obviously, when one of my creative babies comes out only partially functional my instinct it to trash it but I know that I can't. My love is to strong so instead I work to fix it. To shape it. This results in a FOUR STAGE cycle that lasts for the duration of the project and it goes like this :

1. Frustration - My first instinct. I just want it to work. I KNOW it makes sense when I think about it in my head in broad strokes but when I start to add in the finer details things get jumbled and confusing. I'll try to approach the story from different angles and sometimes that helps. Maybe I'll switch the location of a scene or swap in a character for one who wasn't working but when those things don't solve the problem I move into stage...

2. Denial - Maybe it DOES work and I'm being to hard on myself. This usually works for a day or so. I convince myself that what I'm unhappy with is actually not bad and that I'm just letting my low self-esteeme get the better of me. This makes it easier to watch TV, surf the internet and procrastinate for as long as possible before I move into stage...

3. Depression - My least favorite stage. Some time has passed and I decide it's time to re-examine whatever story I'm stuck on. I do a read through and slowly die inside with every turn of the page. Phrases like, "This is terrible", "I can't believe I wrote this", "I'm going to be working a shitty day job forever"....the hits just keep on coming. This is followed by excessive eating of junk food, smoking, drinking and feelings of inadequacy, self-loathing and animosity towards anyone or anything I perceive as having more talent than me. This stage can last anywhere from a few hours to a few months before I move into the final stage...

4. Mysterious Over Confidence and Motivation - By far the strangest stage. I can describe what happens but not WHY it happens. The depression cloud lifts. I start to feel human again. Confidence builds ever so slightly. Then I start to read anything and everything. I watch a lot of movies and TV. I talk about the craft. I bounce ideas off of other writers. Suddenly I'm filled with the desire to right my wrongs. Even though it's been a struggle I'm suddenly positive I can leap this hurdle. This is the point where I pick up a RED PEN and start making serious notes. I make note cards and outlines. I write character profiles, make lists of what they want and fear. I do all the leg work and then

CLICK. POP. BOOM.

Everything works. Honestly folks it's like fucking magic. I don't know how or why. All I know is that eventually the smoke clears and the end is in sight and plain as can be.

Right now I'm somewhere between stage 2 and 3. I work on a lot of projects at once so that if I'm stuck with one script there is another that needs attention but lately I've been putting a lot of effort into reworking a script written over five years ago. All the parts are there but I cannot, for the life of me, figure out how to assemble them. It's like having a billion piece puzzle with no box top to give you guidance. Usually these things work themselves out but it's been FIVE FUCKING YEARS.

How much longer do I have to have these characters, stories and voices in my head before I get it right and can put them to rest? Sigh.

I think I'm edging my way towards Stage 3. Maybe that means the end is (finally) nigh.

GOOGLE WAVE: The Future of Email? Maybe....

UPDATE: Since writing this blog post I have discovered an WONDERFUL, FREE, online document called " The Complete Guide to Google Wave" which explains EVERYTHING you need to know. You can find it HERE. Enjoy.

It's been called the "future of email" but I'm not convinced. Unless you've been under a rock for the past two months you've no doubt come across at least one article announcing the newest offering from Google Industries, Wave. You can find more information at www.google.com/wave if you have no clue what I'm talking about. I'll wait for you to get caught up.....





Okay so now you've seen what Google claims Wave can do. It all seems very cool in theory and I have a feeling that someday it may actually be "cool". For now, Wave (which is still in the "invite only" phase) is an alien looking application with familiar elements that never quite gel together in the seamless way Google promises. I'm pretty tech-savvy but I have to admit that after a full day with Wave I still feel technically retarded whenever I attempt to navigate the site.

As I said all the pieces are their; threaded conversations, real-time typing that appears on your screen as people write to you, the ability to embed videos, pictures and music... The possibilities should be endless and I can see, or at least I can imagine how cool this could actually turn out to be but it's just not there yet.

The conversation threads are close in style to that of a message board or the comments section of your favorite blog (like this one) only because Wave is all about seemingly endless dialogues these threads quickly become cluttered. The few Group Waves I was invited to were slowed down by the excessive number of threads and sub-threads they contained. Add in the embedded media and my browser struggled to keep everything flowing as smoothly as depicted in the videos of Wave in action Google has released.

Despite all my complaints I'm oddly drawn to the idea of Google Wave. I'm hoping when they open their virtual doors to the full public and I can get a few of my writer friends on board I can try what I think will be the best application for this product: Collaborative Writing.

Imagine being able to use Wave to seed an idea, allow other to contribute to that idea: other ideas, videos, pictures, mp3's of songs that further inspire the original idea. What makes Wave unique is that you would be able to house all of these things in one streaming conversation that updates itself in real-time. Sounds exciting, doesn't it?

What do you think?

Where the Hell Has The Time Gone?

It's been a long time since I last blogged. Last I left off I was embarking on the long trek to Los Angeles, CA by way of my car. There are a ton of pictures from that trip and some very interesting blog posts that I could write about (who knows maybe someday I will) but for now we're skipping ahead to the present day.

It's October 30th 2009 and I've been living in LA for almost FIVE MONTHS. I found a job doing temp work in a doctor's office, which has been a great way to get paid but not creatively fulfilling in the least. I work with a variety of people: women to young to have children but already have three, tall Hispanic men that speak mumbled English and middle-aged mid-western women who have big hair, big thighs and loud voices. The office is pretty busy, housing three doctors who are all Internal Medicine practitioners as well as Nephrology specialists (if you don't know what a Nephrologist is I hear there's this amazing thing called a "Google" that answers your questions, mostly accurately, on this series of tubes called the Internet).

The day job has kept me afloat these last few months and allowed me a lot of free time to work on my own stuff when I'm not in the office. I've been taking on a lot of lettering projects, over-seeing the (slow but awesome) development of my graphic novel "Detectives In Space" (DUE OUT.....er....I don't know, I'll do a whole separate post about the current status of DIS), writing a tv pilot, shopping another pilot, working on several screenplays and putting some final edits on a script was waaaaaaay back. Needless to say I keep busy but still find time to watch a lot (too much) of TV, movies and comics (technically reading but whatever). So I figured I'd use this unusually light day do one of my favorite blog tricks: Bullet points!

• Paranormal Activity/Saw VI - The former was a huge chunk of crap. It was boring beyond belief, not scary and, worst of all, horribly written/improved. I don't usually flat out slam a movie, if I hate it I just never speak or think of it again, but this movie is the exception. Maybe it's all the hype surrounding it. Maybe it's because people kept telling me it was going to be better than Blair Witch (I hated that movie but found it actually much more enjoyable than Activity was). On the flip-side sits SAW VI, here's a movie I NEVER thought I'd enjoy. I watched all the films just before the summer and, while I like the first I felt they got successively dumber and harder to watch due to the excessive gore. When I went in for Saw VI I was expecting to watch the whole movie with my hands over my eyes during the torture and my head spinning during the "story" parts. I was wrong (oh shit, I think a pig just flew by my window) this movie was the MOST enjoyable of the series to date. Sure it was waaay to on the nose with the Financial metaphors but it was fun and lite and NEVER took itself to seriously.
  
• TV- In the time away from the blog the summer ended and the great FALL TV SEASON is once again upon us and moving along nicely. I have some shows I love and I'd like to recommend them to you now (in no particular order): Modern Family (the best sitcom of the season - it is a comedy with a ton of heart), Community (discovered how great this is last night and now I'm hooked), Fringe Season 2 (much improved from the first run of episodes. The best stuff moves the larger story along but the stand-alone installments are getting better), Dexter (this is the best season yet, this show gets better with every single episode ever since season 1 episode 2).
  
• The Muppet Movies - recently re-watched all the films. It's VERY CLEAR at what point Henson died and his son, Brian, took over. Not that the Brian Henson run films are bad (I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE A Muppet Christmas Carol) they just don't have the same feel as the films his father was making. If you haven't seen them in a while I highly recommend re-watching all these films (even the post-JH ones)

Tonight is Devil's Night, a holiday I didn't even know existed until I saw a movie that would become I favorite of mine, The Crow. This is a classic revenge flick, years before Uma Thurman would try to Kill Bill, Eric Draven clawed his way out of his grave to avenge the brutal murder of his girlfriend, Shelly. I would request you all curl up tonight in your favorite movie watchin' spots, rest up for a night of Halloween fun by watching The Crow. You can thank me later.

Enjoy!

SHAWN READS - New Blog Content Starts Now!

----------------
Now playing: Cake - Wheels
via FoxyTunes
----------------
Everyone is doing a blog these days. All the cool kids and definitely the hipsters. The comic people and the movie people and the sports people and the news people and the collectors and porno freaks and meths heads and the grandma's and the golfers.

<------The people in the picture next to these words even have a blog. That's how I got this picture. These people, I don't know them and they don't know me. They seem like nice people.

The lady seems to be holding some kind of small dog or maybe it's a purse...if you can tell please leave a comment (This is the interactive portion of the Blog). Also the guy in the background seems to either not know or not care that his picture is being taken and, by contrast, the dog next to him is looking right at the camera. Maybe he's a seeing-eye dog.

----------------
Now playing: Cake - Short Skirt, Love Jacket [LIVE]
via FoxyTunes
----------------

I digress, I was saying that everyone has a blog and I've had one longer than all of you. I just didn't know what i wanted to do with it. I hate talking about my daily routine because right now it's fucking boring. There's cool shit happening but I can't talk about most of that without coming off like a complete name-dropping Douche Popsicle™ (sorry for the language mom I'm sure you'll get me back by posting something corny and embarrassing in the comments of this blog). What I can do is entertain you, something that many blogs forget to do. i can also inform you, which is the point of today's blog ( the above was only the INTRO, smooooth).

I spend a lot of time reading an online news stream I have coming in using RSS feeds to the Google Reader. if you look over to the RIGHT SIDE --------------------------------->
You'll see Shawn's Shared Items, that's the article I want you to also read.

That said, in an effort to entertain and educate you instead of boring you to death by bitching about how lie is unfair because i hit a mailbox with my car and it cost me $500.00 to repair the car and another $600 for the mailbox (the Insurance is paying for the mailbox actually), I plan on highlighting other stuff I read or sometimes a specific article from the column over hee-ya-->

Before we get to it let's celebrate with a happy "little person":

---------------
Now playing: Cake - The Distance
via FoxyTunes
----------------

SHAWN READS - BLOG EDITION:

1. My good buddy Dave has started writing a blog and now that we're going to be living on separate coasts I'm REALLY glad he did. I get to check-in with him without the burden of having an actual telephone conversation. It's great! Seriously though his blog is pretty good so far and he's a gifted artist always talking about this comic he's writing and drawing, always posting pages of art....it's a sight. It's called KARATE and FLYING.

2. Another friend of mine and an EXTREMELY talented writer/musician and lawyer, Charles Soule named his blog after the title of one of his novels. It's not found a home with a publisher yet but I've read it and can tell you it's ACES. I'm telling you it's as good if not better than Fred the Guitar Playing Midget, 4 real. The blog and the book are called LAND OF 10,000 THINGS.

3. Blake J. Harris. If you don't know this name you're either in a coma or you DON'T have your finger on the pulse of the future of Hollywood. That means you're not cool. In fact it means you're a total asshole. I bet you walk about above everyone else, working in some corporate officeo n the 58th floor of some skyscraper in a big lass city built on the bones of poor people. You're a monster and a tyrant and you know what? You'd fit right in because Blake's blog is called TYRANNY ROCKS




unless it's Tranny Rocks
and I've been misreading it ------>













Okay that's today's blog. If I remember/feel up to it there will be more tomorrow and in the future to come. if not back to the usually random phone posts and photos.

Your Friend Shawn.

(special thanks to Cake for providing the soundtrack to today's post.)

----------------
Now playing: Cake - Never, Never Gonna Give You Up
via FoxyTunes
----------------

Untitled Novel: Chapters 1 and 2

                                      CHAPTER I

                              Sleep or Die, Whatever

           I didn't want to answer their questions.

         No matter what I said they were going to kill me.  I didn't want

         to give them the satisfaction of knowing they'd gotten what they

         wanted.  If they were going to kill me it would be out of sheer

         frustration .

         No one was coming to rescue me.  I knew that much for certain.  I

         was alone in this and I had failed but at least I was going to go

         out fighting.  I sure as shit wasn't going to give these two

         douche's the chance to pull any information out of me. 

         Even if I had wanted to talk I wouldn't have been able to.  The

         two pair of duds that kidnapped me and tied me up had stuffed a

         pair of dirty boxers into my mouth. Black electrical tape was

         stretched over the boxers and was wrapped around my head several


         times to hold the boxers in place and prevent me from doing

         anything but moaning and shaking my head.  I did a lot of that,

         especially when they took turns punching me in the ribs.

         All the possible pain and all I could focus on were those damn

         boxers in my mouth.  They weren't my boxers.  I wasn't positive

         but I was pretty sure they belonged to the heavier of my two

         torturers.  If that was so then it made sense to reason that we

         were in his apartment.  Not that any of that information would do

         me any good when they shot me in the head and left me tied to

         this chair.

         Impending death aside, why couldn't they have gagged me with

         something normal?  Or even if they had taped my mouth shut.  I

         can feel the boxers tickle the back of my throat and soak up the

         saliva that floods my mouth in response to the tickle.

         That's all I thought about as  they continued their ridiculous

         questioning, not about the blood flowing from the stab wound in

         my thigh, not about the way the rope around my wrists was cutting

         into my skin and grinding against the bone, only the boxers. They

         aren't clean and they're at least an extra large or bigger.

         “Where is she?” 

         PUNCH.  That time it was a head shot.  The skinny guy has a mean

         right hook and the hit was wide, clipping my ear.  This added a

         nice ringing sound to the buzzing in my head.  I'd have a full

         orchestra in my brain if this kept up much longer.

         Fatty pulled Skinny aside and they discussed something in hushed

         tones.  They keep their backs to me in order to further prevent

         my overhearing.  I don't mind because it's the first breather


         I've had since they nabbed me near the club.

         These guys were looking more familiar as my head stopped swimming

         and I realized I must know them somehow because they were going

         through an awful lot of trouble to hide their identities, the ski

         masks were enough but they were also masking their voices, dropping

         down an octave or two.  I tried to listen to them talking amongst

         themselves but I must have been falling in and out of consciousness

         because I don't remember hearing anything.

         Next thing I do remember is Fatty standing over me.  He and Skinny

         must've decided that they'd get better answers out of my if I

         didn't have shitty-boxers shoved down my throat.  He yanked off

         the tape (which hurts worse than the knife wound in my thigh,

         especially as it pulled on my facial stubble) and pulled out the

         boxer shorts.

         I vomited everywhere. The puke and bile splashed my chest and my

         legs and stung the open wound in my thigh. Some of the spew landed

         on the two hundred dollar wing-tipped shoes the fat guy was

         wearing. This made me laugh. The laughing made me burp and that

         made me laugh some more. Maybe it’s my nerves or maybe I was just

         delirious from lack of sleep, whatever the reason the result was

         the same: I laughed. For a moment I actually forgot the events of

         the past three days, I forgot the two idiots who had been torturing

         me for the past twenty minutes, I forgot the reason this whole

         thing started, I forgot my fear and I laughed.

         Skinny  took out his pistol and pressed it to my eye, “Stop fucking

         laughing and answer the fucking question.  You've gotten annoying

         and way to gross for my tastes. I'm done.  Talk.” I pissed myself


         a little bit and then all the blood rushed to my ears and everyone

         sounds muffled, as if they are talking through a mouthful of dirty

         underwear. Fat Guy and Tall Guy were starting to argue but I

         couldn't understand what they were saying.  Then Tall Guy kicked

         the chair I was sitting in and the world went sideways. I passed

         out.

         I’m getting ahead of myself. That’s not really how this story

         begins. It’s not how it ends either, I mean Christ, I wouldn’t

         tell you the end of the story in the beginning. I may be an asshole

         but I still know how to tell a good story.  That was the hook. 

         Now let me start at the beginning.


                                    CHAPTER II

                         A mass grave for the living dead

         Three days earlier I didn't have the knife wound yet or the shitty

         boxers in my mouth. I didn't have the bruises on my face or body

         and my pinkie finger wasn't broken. Considering how I would end

         up I should have been in a great mood that day but like many of

         the days before I was miserable. Miserable and broke. Emphasis on

         the broke.

         Not having any money was a big concern because of several factors:

         1.I had nothing to eat in many days. 

         2.I owed a few debts to some not so nice people.

         3.I had less than a quarter tank of gas in my car.

         This third option was the most pressing issue at the moment because

         in order to make money I needed the car and in order for the car

         to drive it needed gas and in order for me to get the gas I needed

         the money.  In other words, I was fuuuucked.

         Strangely enough situations like this  force me to do some of my

         best thinking. I'm inspired by chaos and disorder. The fear of

         starvation and possible death make my brain work faster than it

         usually does forcing it to produce some fantastic results. When

         asked to solve a problem I react with a limp, “Meh.” When forced

         to solve a problem I react with unusual tenacity.

         Starting with the most pressing issue, the lack of gas, I followed

         the road from my small efficiency in the nice part of town and

         headed to the small ghetto on the outskirts of the suburban

         wonderland known as Coral Springs, Fl.

         If you ever find yourself in similar circumstances here is an


         important bit of advice to keep in mind: always formulate a plan

         before you leave the house.  The last thing you want to do with

         little gas and even less money is drive around aimlessly trying

         to score a few dollars or figure out where you're going to get

         free gas.

         Let me be clear on the use of the word “ghetto”; the city I live

         in, Coral Springs, is a small community just east of the swampy

         everglades, twenty minutes west of the beach, an hour north of

         Miami and three hours south of Disney World. It is a wasteland of

         upper-middle class and regular middle-class yuppies and old people.

         Coral Springs used to be just as hoity-toity but resent economic

         depression and a general passing of time have made this a middle-

         class town. When I say ghetto I'm talking about the least of the

         three income brackets that make up the city of  Coral Springs,

         twenty grand a year or less.

         These neighborhoods tend to be dirtier than the others, less

         vigilantly patrolled by the local police. It's that last bit that

         enticed me to enact the first part of my plan in this area and as

         I pulled off the main road I glanced around for any black and

         white squad cars and saw none.

         It was the middle of the day at the end of the week which meant

         most people are at school or work. I cruised past a lot of houses

         with vacant driveways. If any of these people were home I couldn't

         tell because they would have their cars parked in the garage. I

         turned left at the end of the street and found myself looking at

         a strip of duplex homes. The second to last house from the corner

         had a 1971 Super Beetle in the driveway. A sticker on the bumper


         said the owner is the proud grandmother of an honor student. Middle

         of the day on a Friday, most people are at work or school, except

         the old people.  Florida, especially South Florida, has plenty of

         old people. My friend Kevin,  calls South Florida a “mass grave

         for the living dead.” I pulled into the driveway, right next to

         the VW, and put the car in park but left the engine running. I

         also had an old car, a beat up Corolla, and the two cars looked

         natural parked next to each other. I gave a quick look around and

         then popped the trunk.

         First I took out the red gas can and placed it on the ground next

         to my feet. Next I reached in and pulled out the black rubber

         hose that was coiled next to the can. Pulling out this long black

         rubber tube is the most suspicious part of what I was about to do

         and as I did it I stole a quick glance at the duplex just to make

         sure Honor Student Grandma wasn't staring out the front curtains

         at me describing me to the police dispatcher on the phone. She's

         wasn't.

         Moving fast now I popped my gas cap off and then pried off the

         VW's. I fed one end of the rubber hose down into the gas tank of

         the VW, praying Grandma had filled up that week. Most people from

         movies and TV think you have to suck on the end of the hose, get

         a mouthful of gasoline and then you're good to go. Most people,

         are idiots.

         The truth is you don't have to suck on the hose at all nor do you

         have to fill your mouth with gasoline. There is a very simple

         tool called a squeeze bulb which does all the sucking for you.

         Once the gas is up through the hose I  pulled my end out of the


         bulb and stuck it into the gas can.  The squeeze bulb is available

         at Wal-Mart and a worthy investment if you plan on spending your

         life as a common thief or shiftless vagabond.

         The gas flowed freely from the VW into the red gas can and I

         scannned the street for police or approaching riffraff. I must've

         been distracted a moment to long because all of the sudden I

         smelled gas and looked down to see the can was overflowing.

         “Shit,” I said as I pulled the hose out of the can and the other

         end out of the VW. I tossed the rubber hose into my open trunk

         and slammed it closed. I picked up the gas can poured the contents

         into my car's tank. When the gas can was empty I closed my gas

         cap and tossed the empty gas can into the backseat of my Corolla. 

         Everything smelled like gas as I got into the drivers seat and

         started my car. I looked at the gage on the dash, a little over

         half a tank, well worth the stink on my hands.

         Pulling out of the ghetto, with gas in my car and no incidents to

         speak of, I was just about considering this the start of a lucky

         day when my cell phone rang. Not my cell  phone actually, don't

         think I'm one of those assholes walking around with a Blackberry

         and nothing to eat. There's nothing worse than some broke-ass bum

         checking his texts while he waits for his food stamps.

         I dug for the phone in my old brown Dickies. The pockets were

         deep and filled with a variety of items making it easy for the

         tiny phone to disappear. I'm just starting to panic and think I'm

         going to miss the call when my index finger wrapped around the

         tiny Nokia. I flipped open the top and pressed the phone to my

         ear, “Hello?”


         “Hello? Miles? Is this Miles?”

         “I'm sorry I,” but before I could finish she's talking again.

         “Shit. Did I call the wrong number?”

         “You got the right number,” I answered.

         “Miles?” She paused, unsure if she's called me by the right name

         or not. Obviously Joy had told this girl my name and that there

         was a possibility I could answer when she called.

         “Yeah, this is Miles and you are?” I must have caught her off

         guard with my cavalier tone because she didn't answer for a full

         minute. “Hello?”

         “Joy...your sister gave me this number, she said I could call...”

         she trailed off at the end of her sentence, she was starting to

         calm down but still sounded a wreck. “I'm Amanda. We work at the

         club together.” She said her name like I would know who she was,

         maybe I met her at the club once or twice, it's possible we slept

         together but I don't remember.

         “Hi Amanda.”

         “You don't remember me do you?” defeat in her voice.

         I don't know why but I decided not to bullshit this girl and

         answered her honestly. “To be honest, I really don't,” I trailed

         off, hoping the silence would force her to spew forth some details. 

         When you're talking on a stolen cell phone every minute could be

         your last and I was hoping she would get to the point before that

         happened.

         “Joy told me to call you. She said if anything happened I should

         call Miles.  I have something she told me to give you. I never

         thought...I never thought anything would happen....oh GOD...” she


         started to sob.

         I waited a few seconds and let her collect herself but her mention

         of my sister put me on edge. I wanted to know what was wrong. I

         wanted to know if it involved my sister and if it did would there

         be someone for me to punch...I wanted this fucking crying broad

         to shut the fuck up already and get to the fucking point. I want--

         “I'm sorry. I'm scared and I'm...something happened.” She stopped

         talking. Who stops talking after saying, “something happened”?

         Silence.

         “Hello?” That's was me trying not to sound annoyed and scared,

         even though I was equal parts of both.  I was also out of the

         neighborhoods now and back on the main street. I made a quick

         left and stepped on the gas to make the light which went from

         Amber to Red right as I passed through the intersection.

         She sniffled and I heard her take a deep breath in and then slowly

         exhale.

         I realized she's going to need more coaching than I'm providing

         and I force myself to take a deep breath. If I scared her or yelled

         at her I might have had to listen to her sobbing for another twenty

         minutes. “Listen, Amanda, I need you to calm down and tell me

         what happened. Take some deep breaths and tell me what's wrong

         with my sister...”

         “She's missing.”