A few notes

I've decided on the name of the next Revolver episode: "Hey Jealousy." It works on a few levels, as you'll see. (Assuming the title remains the same. Which it probably won't. You know how it goes.)

I've also resumed posts at A Great Disservice, if you hadn't noticed.

And now I see that there are new things on each post here: a place to give star ratings for my posts. I didn't ask for this. I don't know why it's there. But it's there. You can rate my posts if you want. I certainly won't mind. If the ratings are good, anyway. Never mind. It's gone now. What the hell?

And then here: watch this.



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Now playing: Gin Blossoms - Hey Jealousy
via FoxyTunes

Damn you, Google!

As promised, the new episode of That's When I Reach for My Revolver is up. The title changed again, as you see. It's a good thing I let it sit for a few days, too -- upon further review, I found I'd neglected to include an entire character's plot. Oops. This was corrected, and the word count expanded well beyond my original goal. Uh, yay, I s'pose.

Unfortunately, as you'll notice if you head over there, I can't publish the episode directly to the blog. I wrote in Word, see, then uploaded it to Google Documents, thinking I could publish it straight to the blog from there. And I can, except for two problems: 1) the episode is apparently too long, and Google Docs simply no-sells my publishing attempts; and 2) even if it did work, a shorter test post proved that it would jack my formatting all to hell.

So, instead, I just posted it as a separate document via Google Docs, as I did with "The Great Decree." I hope this doesn't upset anyone too much.

A few notes. At one point, the stage directions call for the song "Thirty-three" by Smashing Pumpkins. If you have this song on your computer, by all means play it when it comes up. If not, you can play this video in another browser window.

You may remember me talking about a Revolver short story, which I started and abandoned. I threw it out because most of it was simply an excuse to tell one simple anecdote about Patrick and Rebecca, and that was the only part I cared about. Well, look no further: that anecdote is the one Rebecca tells Angela in scene three. And no, it's not in part inspired by an actual event in the author's life, how silly of you to think that.

I think that's it. Any questions or comments, you know where to find me. In the meantime, enjoy the episode. If you like it, tell your friends. Also, if you like it, tell me. I like feedback.

And when you're done, here's the one and only Van Morrison. No one has a good video of "Astral Weeks," so here's a rather boisterous live version of "Cyprus Avenue," which is on the same album.



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Now playing: Van Morrison - Astral Weeks
via FoxyTunes

You can write, but you can't edit

Well, would you look at that -- the eleventh episode of Revolver is done.

I haven't uploaded it yet, so don't bother looking for it. I wrote the last half very, very quickly (a good chunk of it by hand while sitting at Brake Check), and I've decided to let it sit for a few days, then go over it to make sure it's restaurant-quality.

The finished episode will be presented to you, the viewing public, on Thursday night/Friday morning. This is a promise, friends. The title I've settled on is "Synchronicity I," but this could change six or seven times before you see it.

And thank you for your help, Regina. It was greatly appreciated.

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Now playing: The Mars Volta - Miranda, That Ghost Just Isn't Holy Anymore
via FoxyTunes

The Regina Spektor motivational public word counter

Goddammit, I need to finish Revolver.

The most effective method of motivation I ever used was a public word counter: I was a writing a short story with a planned length of six thousand words. So every day, I would write my current word count on the dry erase board on our refrigerator (this is when I was living with Tommy). So every day, everyone could see whether or not I'd done any work on it.

The thing was finished in eight days, with a word count somewhere north of eight thousand words. Success!

You can't argue with success, so I bring back that same idea. I still have the dry erase board, but the pen has been lost and some idiot (*cough* FRINAN *cough*) wrote a quote from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles on it in permanent marker, so it's unusable. Plus, I live alone.

So, instead, I use the dry erase board that is the internet and display my word count on this here blog. Of course, a big reason it worked before was that I could sense the disappointment in those around me when I didn't accomplish anything; I can't see your faces over the internet.

With that in mind, I found someone who, frankly, has a nicer-looking face than you anyway.


With Regina Spektor in tow, I am now prepared to make a serious run at this thing. I mean, who would want to disappoint Regina? Not me.

The goal for this episode -- which is now on its sixth title, "A Long December" -- is 8000 words. How long will it take? You and Regina are going to find out. But if this doesn't work, I am officially out of ideas.

Last year, I made a New Year's resolution to write six episodes; I wrote one. The taste of failure is bitter, friends. I shall not partake of it again.

To victory!

(God, I should get more sleep.)

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Now playing: Regina Spektor - Reading Time With Pickle
via FoxyTunes

*sigh*

I started writing the next Revolver episode about, oh, four months ago. I didn't like how it started, so I ditched it and started over. That file became corrupted, so I had to start over. That file got lost in the cracks when I switched computers, so I started over. This time, to avoid all that, I started writing it out by hand. And then I left my notebook at Pizza Place on accident, and Big Boss threw it away. So now I have to start over again. Again.

Defeated, I offer you only this meme.

Go to the Wikipedia home page and click random article. That is your band's name.
Click random article again; that is your album name.
Click random article 15 more times; those are the tracks on your album.

Band: KRVA
Album: Deschamps
Tracks:

1. It Don't Matter
2. Dragon's Mouth
3. Fictional Actuaries
4. Delčevo Municipality
5. Kishti Tomita
6. Hilda Toledano
7. Course Deviation Indicator
8. Skagway, Alaska
9. L-Plate
10. Zombie Island Massacre
11. Eucatoptus
12. East Brooklyn
13. Walter Dandy
14. Satellite (Moth)
15. United Nations Security Council Resolution 53

Somebody has to write a song called "Zombie Island Massacre." And "United Nations Security Council Resolution 53," for that matter.

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Now playing: Bloc Party - Luno
via FoxyTunes

A brief and tasteless social commentary, from the cast of Revolver

A new episode is coming soon. In the meantime...

The house, day

Patrick and Jason are sitting on the couch. Jason's focused on his laptop; Patrick is frantically playing a video game. From the looks of things, it's not going well.

PATRICK: Dammit!

JASON [without looking up]: Die again?

PATRICK: This is unfair. You have to be some kind of Halo god to beat this.

JASON: What difficulty are you on?

PATRICK: Legendary.

JASON: Uh, well...

PATRICK: Yes. Shut up.

JASON: Why don't you go back to Guitar Hero? Michael's better than you at that one, too, but at least you don't embarrass yourself.

PATRICK: Shut. Up. I can do this.

JASON: Sure. Hell, maybe this time the Covenant will start fragging themselves out of pity. A pity frag.

PATRICK: Fuck. You. I can do this.

JASON: Right. [reads something interesting on computer] Oh, no way...

PATRICK: What's up?

JASON: Hey, you guys!

Rebecca and Angela come out of the kitchen.

REBECCA: What?

JASON: David Copperfield is being accused of sexual assault.

ANGELA: No!

REBECCA: The magician?

PATRICK: I think they prefer "illusionist."

JASON: Whatever he calls himself, the FBI's investigating. Raided a warehouse he owns, or something.

REBECCA: That's unbelievable.

ANGELA: My mom used to have the biggest crush on him. That hair, all the wind machines and stuff. She still has all his specials on tape.

REBECCA: My mom loved him, too. He seemed like such a cool guy.

PATRICK: Oh, I don't know.

REBECCA: Meaning what?

PATRICK: Oh, you know. All that fire. Constantly putting himself on the verge of death. Something's not right beneath all that Aqua Net.

JASON: He's got some weird kinks, too. Always tying women up, chaining them down, blindfolding 'em, putting them boxes and safes. And he's got a real blade fetish, too -- all those swords and saws and knives. I saw him cut a woman into five pieces once. I mean, he put her back together, but still.

REBECCA: That's not funny.

PATRICK: And hey, what are they gonna do if he's convicted? He escaped from Alcatraz, didn't he?

JASON: Fuck that, he walked through the Great Wall of China. Prison's a joke.

ANGELA: And if they set up roadblocks to trap him, so what? He can fly!

JASON: Exactly. He'll just fly up to the Statue of Liberty and make it disappear again.

PATRICK: He'll hold it for ransom, in exchange for a pardon.

ANGELA: He survived in the Bermuda Triangle, he could go back there. "Find me now, bastards!"

JASON: You know, I never realized it, but he's starting to sound an awful lot like a Batman villain.

ANGELA: What would his name be?

PATRICK: Abracadabra?

JASON: Jack of Spades. "Is this your card? How about this one, bitch?" BIFF! POW!

PATRICK: There you go. He'd wear a top hat, but instead of rabbits, he'd pull out bombs.

JASON: Rabbit bombs!

The three of them howl with laughter.

REBECCA: This isn't funny. Rape is not funny.

PATRICK: Oh, who's joking about rape? We're joking an alleged rapist. Rapists can be funny.

JASON: Mike Tyson springs to mind.

Rebecca shakes her head and returns to the kitchen.

JASON: Tsk, tsk. No sense of humor.

PATRICK: That's why we broke up.

ANGELA: Really?

PATRICK: No.

ANGELA: Damn you.

The front door opens. Michael enters.

JASON: Hey, Michael, do you know about David Copperfield?

MICHAEL: I never read it.

JASON: No, the illusionist.

MICHAEL: Never saw that, either.

PATRICK: Har har ha -- oh, fuck!

MICHAEL: Yeah, you're gonna wanna watch out for bullets, there. Believe it or not, they can be dangerous.

PATRICK: Fuck. You.

Lights out.


If you're wondering why I didn't save this for an actual episode, it's because of chronology -- in the Revolver universe, it's still November 2006. By the time I get around to an episode that takes place in October 2007, it'll be 2023 and no one will remember this story at all. Unless he's arrested and convicted, of course. Then we'll all remember, every time we look at the space where the Statue of Liberty used to be.

I sure hope he's innocent.

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Now playing: Harvey Danger - You Miss the Point Completely I Get the Point Exactly
via FoxyTunes

Oh, there's the "Imus grammar" toggle, it was there the whole time

I hope everyone's gotten the chance to read the new Revolver episode, and I hope those who have done so enjoyed it. Again, responses have been pleasant -- I'm starting to convince myself these things are actually good, and this conviction is either going to cause my ego to swell considerably, or cause me to write them faster and more often. I think we all know which result is preferable.

It's also interesting in that one of the things I wanted to do with Revolver was write low-key, character-driven, non-violent stuff...but in ten episodes I've punched three characters in the face and killed a cat. (Two, if you count Rebecca's first memory, revealed in episode two. Which you don't, because there's no way you remember that. I mean, it was one line in an episode over two years ago. Only I, with my Sorkin-like continuity skills, have that kind of total recall.)

But I discovered something interesting while writing "Tougher Than It Is": Microsoft Word is racist.

I'll bet you want some explanation for that. Not convincing enough all on its own? Hmph. Fine.

In Scene 3, Anthony -- whom you'll hopefully remember is black -- has a line that reads as follows:

How the fuck am I supposed to prove I'm not cheating on her?

Simple, clean. I actually deleted and rewrote the obscenity in that line a few times before leaving it in -- I wanted Anthony to be sympathetic, and somehow f-bombs don't lend a guy sympathy. But I left it in, deciding that he was pretty pissed off and prone to profanity.

But Microsoft Word had an editorial suggestion. A squiggly green line appeared under the word "am," signifying that it had a problem with my grammar. I right-clicked and read its "correction":

How the fuck is I supposed to prove I'm not cheating on her?

Yes, because young black men are incapable of properly conjugating their verbs, is that it, Microsoft Word? You should be ashamed of yourself.

Next thing you know, Word will be insulting helpless college basketball players, inciting a nationwide outcry, and losing its radio show.

Also, I know perfectly well that putting a steak on a black eye doesn't do anything

The Tragically Hip rarely play one of their best songs, "38 Years Old," in concert. The reason is simple: it's about a young man who escapes from prison and hides with his family. Gordie wrote the song in first person from the perspective of the man's little brother, and used the name of his real older brother as the convict's name. So everyone assumed that it was a true story, and his family started getting harassed, so they pretty much stopped playing the song.

It's a fact of writing anything that people assume everything is true, or at least based on truth, no matter how you write it. So, with that in mind, I give you this disclaimer -- Patrick's long, angry tirade against marching band in the brand-new episode of That's When I Reach for My Revolver, is not how I personally feel. Not anymore. Ten years ago, maybe. But not anymore.

How about that subtle advertisement, huh?

Also, those who've heard me talk about this episode while I've been writing it might notice the title -- "Tougher Than It Is" -- is not the original one. This is actually the normal way it goes -- my titles change about five times during the writing of an episode. This is the one that stuck.

I ask you nicely to read the episode, and tell everyone you know -- yeah, everyone, and even find some random strangers and tell them, too -- to do the same. And then, when you're done, you can watch the opening scene from Angela's favorite movie.

The carrot and the stick

You're probably wondering where the new episode of Revolver is. Predictably, it's not finished. It could come just about any day now -- I typically complete episodes in one last burst of writing frenzy, so I don't know when it'll be done. But soon, okay?

Last time, with "Halloween," I got myself to the finish line by withholding Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas until I wrote lights out and posted the episode. I decided I needed to go with something similar this time: yesterday, I bought Blaze, the new novel by Stephen King Richard Bachman, and I'm not allowing myself to read it until "Courage" is done and posted. So there.

If it's not finished by, say, this time next week, I will have to come up with a suitable punishment. I'll think of something.

Think for yourself

You may recall an episode of Revolver I wrote about eighty years ago titled "The Long and Winding Road." While the feedback for Revolver episodes is generally pleasant and well-meaning, the most often-discussed scene of any in the whole of the series occurs in that episode: Jason and Patrick go through virtually an entire scene speaking only in Beatles song titles.

MICHAEL: Astros lost.

JASON: Cry, baby, cry.

MICHAEL: And we're still in the car, and the game's over. Which means Patrick owes Jason ten dollars.

PATRICK: ...When I get home?

JASON: You can't do that.

PATRICK: [handing it to him] I should have known better.

Jason takes the money. Everyone seems to wait for him to respond.

JASON: ...No reply.

MICHAEL: That's weak.

Jason shrugs.

JASON: I'm so tired.

MICHAEL: Right.

Patrick points to someone in front of the car.

PATRICK: Girl!

MICHAEL: You've used that one already.

PATRICK: ...She's a woman.

MICHAEL: Uh, sure.

JASON: Michelle?

PATRICK: Carol?

JASON: Dizzy Miss Lizzie?

PATRICK: Julia.

MICHAEL: That's probably it.

JASON: Lucy. In the sky. With diamonds.

MICHAEL: Or that.

PATRICK: Baby's in black.

MICHAEL: Yes, she is.

PATRICK: She loves you.

JASON: And I love her.

MICHAEL: Okay, really, maybe we should call this off. You're starting to creep me out.

PATRICK: ...That means a lot.

MICHAEL: Seriously.

I was told this was a little too dorky, even for me. So be it -- I was proud of it. I was helped, of course, by Beatles song titles -- so many of them just sound like everyday conversation. "I'll Be Back," "I Don't Want to Spoil the Party," "She Loves You," "You Can't Do That," "I Feel Fine," "Yes, It Is."

But now I read of a judge in Montana handing down an opinion with a similar feel:

If I were to overlook your actions and ‘Let It Be’, I would ignore that ‘Day in the Life’ on April 21, 2006. That night you said to yourself ‘I Feel Fine’ while drinking beer. Later, whether you wanted ‘Money’ or were just trying to ‘Act Naturally’ you became the ‘Fool on the Hill’ on on North 27th Street. As ‘Mr Moonlight’ at 1.30am, you did not ‘Think for Yourself’ but just focused on ‘I, Me, Mine’.

Great minds think alike? Or greatly dorky minds think alike? And I love the idea that he was inspired by a misspelling -- as you know, that stuff drives me up the wall.

But mine's better.

'Cause I do it all for you, ya know

So, I was finally able to switch over to the beta of the new Blogger. I gotta say, so far, it's pretty spiffy. Cool labeling feature, better-looking Dashboard, and the Template editing is a breeze. I wish it had been there a year and a half ago, when I put this blog's template together with duct tape and prayer.

I haven't finished (or even come close to finishing) the new Revolver episode -- which, for the moment, is titled after Fiona Apple's "Shadowboxer," which may give you some clues as to its content -- but in a matter of minutes I managed to overthrow the butt-ugly self-designed template I was using in favor of a fresh, shiny new one. I'd really, really like to know what you think of it -- if it's easier to read, if it's simpler, whatever. If you'd like to comment -- and I really need you to, don't know if I made that clear -- you'll have to do it here until I can figure out a way to make Haloscan work over there with the new template. EDIT: Who needs Haloscan? Blogger's built-in comment system works fine. I had tried it before on this site and it sucked; they seem to have improved it a great deal. Unfortunately, this has the side effect of obliterating all the old comments. I'm sorry.

Thank you in advance. And hopefully I can finish the damn thing soon.

Happiness is...

…still more opinions on “Halloween,” and the consensus continues to be overwhelmingly positive. Apparently, as the episodes have gotten longer (episode 1: 15 pages; episode 9: 60 pages), they’ve gotten better. I was told the last three episodes were extremely good, and also that I “shamed myself” with the first eight episodes, because the ninth was so much better. *blush* Aw, gee, you guys. (It’s also been brought to my attention that one of my readers will consider Revolver “dead to [him]” if Angela and Jason ever get together. He was immediately assured that “hope” is not in my vocabulary.)

…last night’s episode of Lost, which is still the best show on television, no matter what some other people might think. And next week is the mini-season finale, which will probably leave me cackling with glee and screaming in agony. Par for the course for Lost, really.

…the super-cheap copies of Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express and Harlan Ellison’s Strange Wine I found at Half-Price Books, which is still the best store in the world.

…Maynard James Keenan breaking down and releasing the actual lyrics to “The Pot,” one of the better tracks on the most recent Tool album. I can now state with confidence that I was totally wrong about pretty much every word that comes out of his mouth. (“Weeping shades of cozened indigo,” indeed.)

…The Prestige, which was a fantastic movie. I got a little ahead of it toward the end, but it doesn’t matter—an extremely well-written, acted, and directed picture. One of the best of the year.

…the first season of Scrubs, which I’ve been watching recently. What a fantastic show! And I never seen a comedy quite as gloomy as that one, which is probably one of the biggest reasons I like it so much. I can’t believe I’ve gone this long without seeing it.

…our Hunter game, Demon Days, which I think is running along quite well. I’ll recap last night’s episode tomorrow, but it was fun—and I got to use my first (of probably many) end-of-episode musical montages, just like on House!

…and that’s pretty much it. Wow: I’m in quite a good mood.

That should be wrecked just about any second now.

*waits*

Five…four…three…two…