I’d like to thank Callie. C. Colbert for asking if I would like to answer a few questions before I roll into anything further.
For those of you who aren’t aware, Ms. Colbert is an author who pens within the Christian Paranormal subgenus which gave me an understandable shock when she had approached me with the offer to share my most recent endeavours. She is also a sincere and pleasant individual with a positive outlook on life and a great deal of talent. Of course, this only adds to my having been taken by surprise when someone who is not only spiritual but also a genuinely good person asks what’s on my mind they’re usually jotting down notes as I lie on a settee.
I’d invite you to take a serious look at her projects (which also include poetry and lyrical work) since they’re incredibly well done regardless of your taste in literature. You can find her blog here:
http://bit.ly/1oM8Fo1
WHAT I’M WORKING ON:
Whooooooooooooooooooooooooo…alright.
My current projects are as follows –
Under my real name, I’m in the process of refining ‘The Great Mirror’ which is a more introspective examination of the manner in which the residents of the GTA influence the way the city behaves more so than in ‘The Kings of Spadina’ storyline that focused mainly on the supernatural elements of a collective subconscious. The reason behind the use of the collective subconscious as a plot device is due to my obsession with the concept of the aboriginal tribal beliefs from the Australian outback and after having done some research noted that the ‘Dreamtime’ totemic structure matched fairly well with those found in Canada’s primary spiritual foundation. It only made sense that if a man were to be a modern shaman in a civic setting, he would have a connection to the land itself through a form of either meditation or visions. Anima Libera is, at its source, the continent’s attempt to re-establish its identity and going mad from the tremendous strain as she takes her frustrations out through an avatar. If I were forced to choose a genre for this series, it would be fictional adult paranormal protest or (as I like to call it) FAPP.
Then there’s Sanctified which is the direct opposite of Anima Libera in that there eight main characters. Evan has been programmed since birth to uphold the American Dream and indoctrinated to the point where he will follow anyone in a position of authority without question. When he finds himself on his own without guidance or aid, he is beset with the state of the common man with no understanding of how or why a person would ‘sin’. In essence, he represents the idealism and integrity that the United States holds to its values. Then there’s Alexandria who is the spirit of rebellion and a direct foil for Evan’s altruism. From birth, she had been taught that her only job was to bear Evan’s child and constantly told that a good girl will become a good mother and so on. After being ‘liberated’ from her home, she finds that she had alternatives all along and instantly becomes the violent and temperamental incarnation of how the United States is viewed by the world at large. She is boorish, rude, indecisive and – at her core – extremely protective of those she cares for. The story itself could be considered a romance; however it should be stated that while the tale does revolve around the connection between Alexandria and Evan it is set against the backdrop of a looming nuclear war, a plot by the UN to mentally control the productivity of North America, the final straw between the Canadian Government and the First Nations within Alberta, a soldier suffering from PTSD, and a murder made to look like a night of BDSM gone horribly wrong. So…you know…no comment.
As Alexander Kurtis I am in the process of writing a few short novellas.
‘Math Is The Consensual Intimacy Between Two Numbers’ – a story about an anthropologist who pairs up with a shy and introverted theoretical physicists to discover a correlation between speech patterns and physical attraction. It’s very spicy and sciency.
‘I Am Still A Cowboy’ – Wyatt is a cowboy. He will continue to be a cowboy. Oh, and a local gang is trying to kill him because he beat the crap out of the leader’s brother and sent him to prison.
‘Most Venerable Cowboy’ – Neo-Nippon is in ruins as the Poly-Emperor Shogun demands a tribute from the surrounding agricultural lands. Toshiro Namada follows the code of the cowboy and fights against the tyrant’s rule and rides into battle atop his biomechanical steed, Sleipnir. With his dual blades of justice that derive their strength from the power of his heart, will Toshiro defeat the Poly-Emperor and his genetically enhanced Black Midnight Dragon? All Toshiro can say is, “Watashi Wa Cowboyodesu.”
HOW MY WORK DIFFERS FROM OTHERS IN THE GENRE:
Seeing as how I refuse to admit that I write anything other than fiction, it’s possible that my work differs on the basis that I won’t limit myself to being shoved into a category. I understand that it’s best for sales and whatnot, but I can’t. It seems like cheating somehow. I’d rather be the random filet mignon wrapped in bacon and drizzled with a faint unassuming hollandaise at the end of the buffet than another strip of sirloin. Let them figure out what it tastes like, the palette begs to be explored.
WHY I WRITE WHAT I WRITE:
I find the subject matter interesting. I suffer from some fairly aggressive ADD (clinically, not in a glib ‘haha ADD is funny because it’s safe to say in public unlike retard’ manner which is still offensive and I wish I could get away with giving those individuals permanent brain damage) so it stands to reason that if I can get through the entirety of a chapter without running off to play a video game or waste an hour and a half on YouTube that the writing must have SOMETHING to it. I've also lived the majority of my life handing my accolades to others due to not wanting them to feel bad and I've only recently decided to stop. The drive to succeed comes from pure spite as I am sick and tired of watching others "fall into a secure future" where I've struggled to overcome countless obstacles and go through years of education just to land back at square one. Forgive me for saying so, but I know I'm a decent writer, there's no reason for me to be shy about my talent and provided I don't lose interest I will make damn sure that my name is rubbed in the face of all detractors.
THE WRITING PROCESS:
It involves a lot of coffee and self-loathing. I stay awake for approximately 20 hours; then I take a brief two hour nap to awaken at some ridiculous hour of the morning – about three or four – to begin putting words on paper. Usually this runs until eight or nine at which time I curl into a ball and lose consciousness. It is the psychological equivalent of drinking water as you drown for the oxygen.
As I write, I will inevitably stare at the screen and ask myself why the work will never be good enough or – more than likely – wonder if people are too good natured to just up and tell me that everything I do is complete crap. This will lead to a solid half an hour of rage fueled games of Tetris until I manage to overpower an opponent and with my pride salvaged will continue to go back to work.
In the third hour of the creative rampage, I will wonder what other writers have done to warrant critical acclaim and find myself completely and utterly flabbergasted by what the general public considers “marketable” and become so incensed that I end up doing the majority of the chapter scant moments afterward. This means that during the four or five hour marathon, I really only write for one and a half. However, it should be noted that during this last hour and a half I manage to push out around two thousand words.
EXAMPLE OF WORK IN PROGRESS:
Here’s Sanctified or whatever:
=============================================================================
Evan watched from his window as the two made their way into an unmarked vehicle, driving off into the night. Suddenly, he paused, sniffing at the air as the scent of rose water and honey wafted through his apartment. Wherever it had been coming from, it smelled great, like something he’d want to eat, bathe in, and run his hands through all at the same time. He attempted to ignore it as best he could, deciding that it was most likely due to the East Indian family that had moved in just below his floor.
With each passing second it became stronger, an overwhelming aroma that sent a shockwave through his skin, every membrane aching to desperately searching out to connect and hoard the mysterious source. It was nearly impossible for him to think, his only goal had turned from planning out his eventual debut into society proper had now become the conquest and possession of that breathtaking odor. His desire slowly evolved into a steady need; like an addict that had just reached the peak of their withdrawal. A quick succession of knocks landed upon his front door, the significance of which had almost been completely ignored due to his current irrational state.
He ran to the sound in a frenzy, quickly swinging it open with a loud thud as his eyes beheld a young woman wearing brown leather boots, jeans, and a beige coat. One hand clutched the handles of a disproportionately large bag that rested against her spine, the other resting upon her hip with a thumb squarely secured within the waist of her pants. He examined her emerald eyes and felt the sudden hint of recognition, feeling that he would be able to more precisely recall her raven locks had he not been so distracted by the sweet scent escaping her every pore.
She blinked, her face brows lifting questioningly as she appeared to be wait for an invitation into his home. He quickly pounced on her, catching her off guard for a few moments prior to her foot finding its way into his chest, pushing him away. “Get. The fuck. Off me!” she cried, raising her free hand to her chest in defense. The act didn’t deter him from attempting to do the same a second time, causing her to produce a small taser from her coat pocket, shocking him into a twitching frothing mess on the ground.
She was careful to avoid stepping on him and threw her possessions into the corner of his living room with an effortless swing. As he lay there breathing heavily, she stepped over his recovering form and locked the door behind her, ignoring him completely. She looked down to regard him with a sad smile before the array of prepared snacks caught her attention.
“Ooooh! Crab-cakes!” she happily proclaimed, rushing over to devour what remained of his spread.
=============================================================================
Also check out Piper McDermot’s art and writing over on her site. I’ve known her work for the past few years and I have to stay that it’s nothing short of phenomenal. The earliest piece I had the pleasure of looking over had been one of the first drafts of The Seventh Gate which resulted in a desperate bid to get a small percentile of the literary community to pay attention to the book. I honestly don’t have enough to say about either her writing or her as an individual since her photography is breathtaking and packed with energy. http://pipermcdermot.wordpress.com/
Or check out Effie Star’s page at http://bit.ly/T4BfUa and get blown away by someone who has entirely too much potential. Honestly. An actress, a singer and a writer? Calm down. You’re making the rest of us look bad. She also has the quiet distinction of having met me in person and remained both sane and competent. Effie deserves an award for that, although I’m sure she’ll settle for a visit to her blog as a consolation prize.
Since we’re discussing people who do entirely too much; Tracy Lamourie and her husband Dave Parkinson have been political activities for years with one of their more well-known campaigns being a drive against the death penalty and had contributed to the process by interviewing countless inmates on death row. As the co-founder of the Canadian Coalition Against the Death Penalty, Tracy had the opportunity to meet with those that society would rather sweep under the rug. Tracy is also an incredibly knowledgeable person who has been doing a great deal of work as my publicist. She’s currently in the process of running for School Trustee after a principal within her ward made it clear that he lacked understanding or empathy towards children deemed abnormal and it’d be great if you could show her a bit of support. http://tracylamourie.wordpress.com/
(Also like the following if that’s cool: https://www.facebook.com/TracyForSchoolBoard)
For those of you who aren’t aware, Ms. Colbert is an author who pens within the Christian Paranormal subgenus which gave me an understandable shock when she had approached me with the offer to share my most recent endeavours. She is also a sincere and pleasant individual with a positive outlook on life and a great deal of talent. Of course, this only adds to my having been taken by surprise when someone who is not only spiritual but also a genuinely good person asks what’s on my mind they’re usually jotting down notes as I lie on a settee.
I’d invite you to take a serious look at her projects (which also include poetry and lyrical work) since they’re incredibly well done regardless of your taste in literature. You can find her blog here:
http://bit.ly/1oM8Fo1
WHAT I’M WORKING ON:
Whooooooooooooooooooooooooo…alright.
My current projects are as follows –
Under my real name, I’m in the process of refining ‘The Great Mirror’ which is a more introspective examination of the manner in which the residents of the GTA influence the way the city behaves more so than in ‘The Kings of Spadina’ storyline that focused mainly on the supernatural elements of a collective subconscious. The reason behind the use of the collective subconscious as a plot device is due to my obsession with the concept of the aboriginal tribal beliefs from the Australian outback and after having done some research noted that the ‘Dreamtime’ totemic structure matched fairly well with those found in Canada’s primary spiritual foundation. It only made sense that if a man were to be a modern shaman in a civic setting, he would have a connection to the land itself through a form of either meditation or visions. Anima Libera is, at its source, the continent’s attempt to re-establish its identity and going mad from the tremendous strain as she takes her frustrations out through an avatar. If I were forced to choose a genre for this series, it would be fictional adult paranormal protest or (as I like to call it) FAPP.
Then there’s Sanctified which is the direct opposite of Anima Libera in that there eight main characters. Evan has been programmed since birth to uphold the American Dream and indoctrinated to the point where he will follow anyone in a position of authority without question. When he finds himself on his own without guidance or aid, he is beset with the state of the common man with no understanding of how or why a person would ‘sin’. In essence, he represents the idealism and integrity that the United States holds to its values. Then there’s Alexandria who is the spirit of rebellion and a direct foil for Evan’s altruism. From birth, she had been taught that her only job was to bear Evan’s child and constantly told that a good girl will become a good mother and so on. After being ‘liberated’ from her home, she finds that she had alternatives all along and instantly becomes the violent and temperamental incarnation of how the United States is viewed by the world at large. She is boorish, rude, indecisive and – at her core – extremely protective of those she cares for. The story itself could be considered a romance; however it should be stated that while the tale does revolve around the connection between Alexandria and Evan it is set against the backdrop of a looming nuclear war, a plot by the UN to mentally control the productivity of North America, the final straw between the Canadian Government and the First Nations within Alberta, a soldier suffering from PTSD, and a murder made to look like a night of BDSM gone horribly wrong. So…you know…no comment.
As Alexander Kurtis I am in the process of writing a few short novellas.
‘Math Is The Consensual Intimacy Between Two Numbers’ – a story about an anthropologist who pairs up with a shy and introverted theoretical physicists to discover a correlation between speech patterns and physical attraction. It’s very spicy and sciency.
‘I Am Still A Cowboy’ – Wyatt is a cowboy. He will continue to be a cowboy. Oh, and a local gang is trying to kill him because he beat the crap out of the leader’s brother and sent him to prison.
‘Most Venerable Cowboy’ – Neo-Nippon is in ruins as the Poly-Emperor Shogun demands a tribute from the surrounding agricultural lands. Toshiro Namada follows the code of the cowboy and fights against the tyrant’s rule and rides into battle atop his biomechanical steed, Sleipnir. With his dual blades of justice that derive their strength from the power of his heart, will Toshiro defeat the Poly-Emperor and his genetically enhanced Black Midnight Dragon? All Toshiro can say is, “Watashi Wa Cowboyodesu.”
HOW MY WORK DIFFERS FROM OTHERS IN THE GENRE:
Seeing as how I refuse to admit that I write anything other than fiction, it’s possible that my work differs on the basis that I won’t limit myself to being shoved into a category. I understand that it’s best for sales and whatnot, but I can’t. It seems like cheating somehow. I’d rather be the random filet mignon wrapped in bacon and drizzled with a faint unassuming hollandaise at the end of the buffet than another strip of sirloin. Let them figure out what it tastes like, the palette begs to be explored.
WHY I WRITE WHAT I WRITE:
I find the subject matter interesting. I suffer from some fairly aggressive ADD (clinically, not in a glib ‘haha ADD is funny because it’s safe to say in public unlike retard’ manner which is still offensive and I wish I could get away with giving those individuals permanent brain damage) so it stands to reason that if I can get through the entirety of a chapter without running off to play a video game or waste an hour and a half on YouTube that the writing must have SOMETHING to it. I've also lived the majority of my life handing my accolades to others due to not wanting them to feel bad and I've only recently decided to stop. The drive to succeed comes from pure spite as I am sick and tired of watching others "fall into a secure future" where I've struggled to overcome countless obstacles and go through years of education just to land back at square one. Forgive me for saying so, but I know I'm a decent writer, there's no reason for me to be shy about my talent and provided I don't lose interest I will make damn sure that my name is rubbed in the face of all detractors.
THE WRITING PROCESS:
It involves a lot of coffee and self-loathing. I stay awake for approximately 20 hours; then I take a brief two hour nap to awaken at some ridiculous hour of the morning – about three or four – to begin putting words on paper. Usually this runs until eight or nine at which time I curl into a ball and lose consciousness. It is the psychological equivalent of drinking water as you drown for the oxygen.
As I write, I will inevitably stare at the screen and ask myself why the work will never be good enough or – more than likely – wonder if people are too good natured to just up and tell me that everything I do is complete crap. This will lead to a solid half an hour of rage fueled games of Tetris until I manage to overpower an opponent and with my pride salvaged will continue to go back to work.
In the third hour of the creative rampage, I will wonder what other writers have done to warrant critical acclaim and find myself completely and utterly flabbergasted by what the general public considers “marketable” and become so incensed that I end up doing the majority of the chapter scant moments afterward. This means that during the four or five hour marathon, I really only write for one and a half. However, it should be noted that during this last hour and a half I manage to push out around two thousand words.
EXAMPLE OF WORK IN PROGRESS:
Here’s Sanctified or whatever:
=============================================================================
Evan watched from his window as the two made their way into an unmarked vehicle, driving off into the night. Suddenly, he paused, sniffing at the air as the scent of rose water and honey wafted through his apartment. Wherever it had been coming from, it smelled great, like something he’d want to eat, bathe in, and run his hands through all at the same time. He attempted to ignore it as best he could, deciding that it was most likely due to the East Indian family that had moved in just below his floor.
With each passing second it became stronger, an overwhelming aroma that sent a shockwave through his skin, every membrane aching to desperately searching out to connect and hoard the mysterious source. It was nearly impossible for him to think, his only goal had turned from planning out his eventual debut into society proper had now become the conquest and possession of that breathtaking odor. His desire slowly evolved into a steady need; like an addict that had just reached the peak of their withdrawal. A quick succession of knocks landed upon his front door, the significance of which had almost been completely ignored due to his current irrational state.
He ran to the sound in a frenzy, quickly swinging it open with a loud thud as his eyes beheld a young woman wearing brown leather boots, jeans, and a beige coat. One hand clutched the handles of a disproportionately large bag that rested against her spine, the other resting upon her hip with a thumb squarely secured within the waist of her pants. He examined her emerald eyes and felt the sudden hint of recognition, feeling that he would be able to more precisely recall her raven locks had he not been so distracted by the sweet scent escaping her every pore.
She blinked, her face brows lifting questioningly as she appeared to be wait for an invitation into his home. He quickly pounced on her, catching her off guard for a few moments prior to her foot finding its way into his chest, pushing him away. “Get. The fuck. Off me!” she cried, raising her free hand to her chest in defense. The act didn’t deter him from attempting to do the same a second time, causing her to produce a small taser from her coat pocket, shocking him into a twitching frothing mess on the ground.
She was careful to avoid stepping on him and threw her possessions into the corner of his living room with an effortless swing. As he lay there breathing heavily, she stepped over his recovering form and locked the door behind her, ignoring him completely. She looked down to regard him with a sad smile before the array of prepared snacks caught her attention.
“Ooooh! Crab-cakes!” she happily proclaimed, rushing over to devour what remained of his spread.
=============================================================================
Also check out Piper McDermot’s art and writing over on her site. I’ve known her work for the past few years and I have to stay that it’s nothing short of phenomenal. The earliest piece I had the pleasure of looking over had been one of the first drafts of The Seventh Gate which resulted in a desperate bid to get a small percentile of the literary community to pay attention to the book. I honestly don’t have enough to say about either her writing or her as an individual since her photography is breathtaking and packed with energy. http://pipermcdermot.wordpress.com/
Or check out Effie Star’s page at http://bit.ly/T4BfUa and get blown away by someone who has entirely too much potential. Honestly. An actress, a singer and a writer? Calm down. You’re making the rest of us look bad. She also has the quiet distinction of having met me in person and remained both sane and competent. Effie deserves an award for that, although I’m sure she’ll settle for a visit to her blog as a consolation prize.
Since we’re discussing people who do entirely too much; Tracy Lamourie and her husband Dave Parkinson have been political activities for years with one of their more well-known campaigns being a drive against the death penalty and had contributed to the process by interviewing countless inmates on death row. As the co-founder of the Canadian Coalition Against the Death Penalty, Tracy had the opportunity to meet with those that society would rather sweep under the rug. Tracy is also an incredibly knowledgeable person who has been doing a great deal of work as my publicist. She’s currently in the process of running for School Trustee after a principal within her ward made it clear that he lacked understanding or empathy towards children deemed abnormal and it’d be great if you could show her a bit of support. http://tracylamourie.wordpress.com/
(Also like the following if that’s cool: https://www.facebook.com/TracyForSchoolBoard)
In a bid to appeal to individuals who judge an article solely on the photograph that accompanies it, here is a picture of a kitten swimming in marshmallows.