Halloween Factoids

I kinda' wished that Halloween didn't fall on a Monday this year.  I would've much preferred that it hit on a Friday or Saturday, for maximum enjoyment purposes.  Still, seeing as Halloween's (in part) about horror and it falls on Mondays (which tend to horrible), I can appreciate the irony.  And even though I'm pushing 40, I'll keep celebrating it.  It's my favorite holiday.  It's that last good time before the Holiday season and Ohio winters - both of which I friggin' hate - wreak their havock. 

I did my costume party revelry last night (as a Rasta Vamp).  It was fun and relaxing.  And I got to see this kid show up dressed up in Buzz Lightyear costume . . . that was made up mostly of balloons.  I still still can't believe he came in second for Best Costume.  What also cracks me up is that some of the folks around me are gonna party tonight (lucky bastards).  Apparently, they don't have to punch a Monday morning clock (like me) and thus have the luxury of partying on a Sunday night.

Well, off to other things.  I hope some of you grown-ups did something to mark the occasion.  Just because you aren't a kid anymore doesn't mean that you have to sit out the occasion.  

Below is a link to some interesting Halloween factoids, in case you were curious about where this light-weight holiday came from. 

http://www.happyhalloween.at/history.html

Adios.

Tired of carving pumpkins?

If Halloween pumpkins aren't your thing, maybe you can figure out how to make sculptures out of bananas!  I heard about this Japanese genius named Keisuke Yamada.  Tap the link below to see some of his stuff.

http://www.metro.co.uk/weird/878781-japanese-artist-becomes-online-sensation-with-banana-sculptures

Build Your Own Hall of Reference

Back in the Golden Age, when Borders was in business and paper books ruled all, I stalked the Reference section in pursuit of "How-To" books on the writing genre.  While I didn't doubt my skill, I figured that more knowledge was better than less.  And some of the titles were just perfect sucker bait.  They had how-to books on every element of writing inaginable: from how to write in a particular genre to how to market your first novel.  They even had how-to books on how to write how-to books!

These days, I've got a small friggin' arsenal of how-to books on my shelf.  And I've only read a few of them from cover-to-cover.  I know it's weird . . . but think of whose blog you're reading.  Anyway,  reading how-to books is about as boring as reading textbooks.  If you remember your days of academia, your teachers stuck you with X number of books per class and made you read selected chapters (basically, the ones that mattered).  Like textbooks, how-to books are dull, long-winded, and difficult to use - especially if some stubborn part of your psyche hates writing to someone else's tune. 

But amidst the "blah-blah-blah" of useless drivel are vital nuggets of wisdom which can aid you in the long-term writing game.  The bitch is that you've gotta find them. 

Every how-to writer has a different opinion on the how.  And I've yet to find an "Idiot's Guide" or an "All You'll Ever Need to Know . . ." book with all the answers.  You're probably better off camping out at your local library and/or compiling assorted wisdom from free articles/blogs on-line.  However, if you have money to throw away, I urge you to buy how-to books and keep them close.  Try to skim through the dull things, learn what you can, and apply their jigsaw wisdom. 

And if you're crazy enough to self-publish (like me), you really should explore how-to books related to non-writing fields: like how to incorporate, run a small business or do online marketing.  Also, consider how-to books which indirectly cover the writing process.  I've got books on forensics, character names, screenwriting, and even blogging (none of which I've fully read yet).  Yeah, I could go online and pull up neat little articles on these topics.

But at the end of the day, entire books trump little articles.  And having that knowledge at your fingertips is just plain smart.

Hope this was of use.

November's A-Comin'

Yeah, I know that November's a bit less than a month away.  But for anyone up for writing a novel, November's that golden time.

That's right, boys and girls!  We're a couple of weeks away from National Novel Writing Month!  Basically, the contest is about spewing forth a 50,000-word book in under a month (it can be done, by the way).  Why am I writing this in October?  Simple: to give you time to prep. 

Anyone interested in trying this should (in my humble opinion) order a book called "No Plot? No Problem!" from Amazon.com.  I found a copy at a Borders once (sniff) and that's how I heard about this contest.  Again, you CAN write a 50,000-word piece in 30 days.  BUT, you have to prep, write, and free up a lotta time.  The book helps with suggestions (like how to deal with kids, get around hectic schedules, etc.).

For those of you too broke/skeptical to order said book, there's a site (see link below) with plenty of tips and suggestions on how to write your crappy first draft.  It also contains the entry rules, for those of you who want to officially enter. 

But imagine the thrill of knocking down the rough draft of a novel.  Then you can spend real time revising and polishing it into something worthy.  To those of you who've actually tried to write a novel the long way (planning out a plot, designing characters, theme, blahblahblah), you should realize how refreshing it would be to just kamikaze the first draft.
 
Hit the link below for details. 
http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/node/3699214

Hope this was of use.

I like the new upgrades for Blogger.com!  I especially like the part where you can more easily insert story prose without the mutated blog formatting.  Below's a sample writing prompt I put down some 2 weeks ago.  Limited to 500 words, it had to involve finding a note behind a mirror. 

While the prompt was odd, the stuff I wrote off it was kinda' cool.  Lemme know what you think of this one:

THE DROP

     "Found it," Mulsane muttered as he pulled a taped envelope from behind the antique mirror. From across the street, Brooks and Miller tensely waited in the front of our unassuming black Volvo. Their eyes were trained on the small antique shop and Peter Mulsane. Dressed in casual fall attire, he carried a blue backpack with $12 million in precious stones inside. Handsome and rich, the fourth-generation millionaire hoped to trade them for his pregnant wife's safe return.
     Visible through the front windows of the shop, the brave-slash-stupid husband was reading the note and about to give us directions to the next leg of this operation. We wired him for sound and planted three GPS trackers on his person, in case we got separated. At present, he had led us to four different locations. Each had a note stashed and directions to the next spot.    
     It was a classic technique of kidnappers who wanted to collect their money without getting arrested. Our job was to shadow him, make sure the money was delivered, and see to it that Helen Mulsane – the hostage – didn't end up dead. She was probably taken by intelligent amateurs. Pros would've taken Mulsane and made him wire the damned money. See, $12 million in stones could be tracked. In the six hours it took for Mulsane to collect the stones, me and my guys paid a visit to the local fences in this town.
     We explained to them that we weren't cops. Oh no. We were freelance "troubleshooters" tasked to resolve this matter. And, if the kidnappers showed up with stones to sell, they'd get paid a reward if we were called. Then, our guns came out. Some fences watched their bodyguards die. The ones who worked alone simply yelped when we drove them to the floor and put our guns in their faces.
     In the end, they understood what would happen if they f*cked us.
     Right now, I wasn't really interested in Mr. Mulsane's little quest. My partners would watch him like hungry hawks. Me? I took in the background. During ransom drops, it was always good to have a set of eyes taking in the folks on the street. I ignored the sunny day, the crowded San Francisco street, and the hundred-or-so pedestrians strolling about. No, I was simply looking for anyone or anything that stood out.
     Why bother?
     Because the kidnappers might try and gun us down while we followed Peter Mulsane. They might try to jack him in mid-delivery. In some countries, this would be the part where local (f*cking corrupt) cops would storm in and try to steal the damned ransom.
     But so far, everything looked blasé.  

     "It says to take the diamonds and leave them out back," Mulsane announced, some excitement in his voice.
     We swapped glances.
     There was probably an alley behind this block of shops.
     Recon would be a bitch.
     Ambushes would be child's play.
     "Anything else?" Brooks asked into his sleeve-mounted transmitter.
     "No," Mulsane's voice replied.