Friday

Interview with S S Michaels


The talented S.S Michaels talks about her novel 'Idols and Cons' and other amusing things.

ME: What is Idols and Cons about?

SSM: After a night of passion with a rock star she didn’t want to meet, poor Mary Bellows goes missing. Damien Tungsten knows where she is, though. After accidentally strangling her, he rolls her up in an expensive rug and dumps her in the trash. Hours later, his neighbor, one psychotic visual artist, Patrick Salinger, finds her. He drags her back into their apartment building, planning to fashion some ghastly and priceless installation pieces out of her dead body. One boy, John Thomas – meth dealer, high school loser, and son of an alcoholic – witnesses both incidents. Unfortunately for John, Damien sees him in his window as he flees the scene.

Following a battle with his own conscience, John confronts Patrick. Bad idea. Patrick forces John into helping him dismember Mary. Freaked out and in need of a smoke, John is allowed to step outside for a moment. As he puffs away, pondering his predicament, a big old Cadillac screeches to a stop right in front of him and whisks him away to the desert. When they arrive at their destination – a swank rehab facility – John finds Damien waiting to see him. Convinced that he’s about to be killed, John prays that Damien just makes it quick and painless. Damien’s got something else in mind, though – something much more painful than death: John, a punk rocker to the core, will be taken into Damien’s boy band, where he can be babysat twenty-four seven.

Reluctantly, John is transformed into teen idol Jake Wolfram. His ego spins out of control, swelling his head and his desire for even more fame and power. In an act of revenge, John uses his stash of drugs to weaken Damien and switch places with him – the imprisoned becomes the imprisonor. Patrick, also seeking revenge, comes out of hiding to attend John’s debut art exhibit. After shooting the place up, Patrick is carted off to prison where he ultimately makes it to death row. At the boy band’s performance immediately following the art gallery debacle, Damien collapses with a heart attack, caused by an overdose of cocaine. John has everything he wants: a successful art career, a promising music career, and a house in the Valley for his mom.

Back to exact his own revenge at a book signing, Damien pulls a gun and takes aim at John, ending the story with a bang.

ME: Can you tell us something of your background. Any magical tales or encounters with gnomes, dragons, mermaids?

SSM: I do actually know one gnome, but I'd prefer not to talk about it.

ME: Do any of the characters in Idols and Cons reflect on people you know or on your experiences, dreams or nightmares?

SSM: Idols & Cons started life as a screenplay, which was inspired by time I spent working on various music award shows. I caught a glimpse of just what goes on backstage and at after-parties, and the whole thing just sparked my imagination. I thought how awful it would be to be stuck in the celebrity lifestyle if that just wasn’t your thing.

ME: Do you need to be in a special state of mind when you write? Any writing rituals you wish to share?

SSM: When I write, I'm usually in kind of a hyper mood. I get up to get a drink. I sit down to write. I get up to let the dogs out. I sit down to write. I let the dogs in. I sit down to write. I play with stuff on my desk. I write some more. My attention span isn't that great so I

ME: Are you the type of writer who has her plot mapped out or do you just go on the journey and see where it takes you?

SSM: I make an insanely detailed outline, which I throw out about half-way through my story when I allow my characters to just take over and show me what they’re made of.

ME: Do you have a favourite character in Idols and Cons?

SSM: I'd have to say Patrick is my favorite, just because he's so so deliciously evil.

ME: If you could be a superhero who would you be?

SSM: I would be the female version of Iron Man. He's in great shape, doesn't get hurt because of that insane metal suit, and he's got that cool heart thing.

ME: And if you had to rescue any cartoon character from evil villains and attic clowns who would you save and why?

SSM: My first thought was to go with Finn and Jake from Adventure Time, but they don't really need any help. So, I'll say Mordecai and Rigby from Regular Show. They're cool animals and I like their style.

ME: What are your hobbies?

SSM: Hobbies? Um… writing is kind of a hobby since it's not really a full-time job kind of thing yet. I also enjoy drawing, listening to music, and running.

ME: What writers inspire you and why?

SSM: Writers who inspire me, big names: Bret Easton Ellis and Chuck Palahniuk, because that's who I want to write like when I grow up. Writers who inspire me who are friends of mine: Jeremy C. Shipp, John Edward Lawson, Scott G. Browne, Kate Jonez, D. W. Grintalis… These are people who have given me advice and kind of guided me to where I am now. There are more, and they know who they are. I am grateful for these people and their generosity.

ME: For those many people who wish to purchase Idols and cons where it is available?

SSM: It's available through Amazon, as both a paperback and an e-book. http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B0066DI8J0/afterschoolsp-20

Thank you for the interview

If you go away

Laying still and waiting in the dark. Yesterday, I thought I saw a smile but that would have been so unlike you. Dreaming of being together knowing it just wouldn't be right. I fear you've left me far behind and would despise all I stand for

but if you go away I know I will die.

I hide from myself everyday. Yet at night the girl in the mirror shrills and keeps me awake. Tells me she has evidence. I yell "What a bitch" then I hang my head in shame. What will she do if I go away?

My feet sink in the ground as I look at her one last time. I hear those same words over and over yet I know its always a mistake to love. Damn you sweet confusion! Shall I wait for you until dawn or should I let go of this chain.

You breathe and pollute my mind with your pathetic lies but I stand by you. I'm tied like a fucking knot unable to unravel. If only I respected the knife and cut myself in two but that would be unreal like a feeling of contentment and joy. Instead I'm rooted like a tree and down on my luck and there's a ringing in my head like a bell of doom.

I turn away but of course you see right through. You firmly hold me and restrict my moves.

Forgive me when I lose. Forgive me and let me drink my last beer.

I'm not ready for this but I've never been ready for anything.

Your ice cold hands glide over my skin and then I am gone

but if you go away I will surely cry

The Drifter (Re-Visited)


A drifter picks up a hitchhiker. They cruise along the highway. The car radio is turned down low. The drifter hums. The hitchhiker is feeling uncomfortable as he fidgets for something to do. He looks at his watch several times before he speaks.


"Hey, thanks for the ride. I'm Jim. Whats your name?"


"Its immaterial." Replies the drifter, keeping his eyes fixed on the road.


"I'm a salesman." Jim continues." What do you do?"


"Nothing."


"Nothing?" Jim looks down at his watch again.


"Are you late for something?"


"No. Im just looking. Hey, would you mind turning off that radio, I have an awful headache."


The men travel in silence for the next five minutes.


The drifter speaks. "Have you ever killed someone?"


Jim raisies his voice "What kind of question is that? "


The drifter continues. "If you had to kill someone how would you do it?"


"I couldn't. I..."


The drifter cuts him off. "I said if you had to."


Jim hesitates. "Emm... I'd probably shoot them. Bang Bang." He mimics the actions of a crazed gunman as he chuckles.


"Everyone does that."


"Stab them to death, you know like in Psycho."


"Bull."


"Throw them off a speeding train. That good enough for you?"


"No. And you watch too many movies."


"Hey, I could kick the shit out of them." Jim adds.


"Boring."


Jim chuckles. He's almost enjoying the conversation now. "Okay, I have a good one. If someone had really pissed me off, I'd strap them down to the floor and pour hot motor oil down their throat. Ha.. good eh?"


"You're pathetic." The drifter sneers.


Jim snaps back. "Okay, Mr. good for nothing smart ass, how would you kill someone?"


"You really want to know?"


The journey is interrupted. The car stops.


An hour later, the drifter reaches a filling station. He steps out the car, yawns, stretches and looks up at the night sky. Then he turns and notices a young woman, looking bored, waiting for the next customer to show. As he walks through the door, he receives her with a mocking smile. She smiles back. Then he slides his tongue over his fat lips. The desire is too strong to fight.

Saturday

Jimmy and the Black Wind by Neil Colquhoun


Want to know more about "Jimmy and the Black Wind" then please check out my friends link. Thank you :-) http://neilcolquhoun.com/archives/3008


Monday

Boiling Point by Neil Colquhoun

I invite you to have a listen to a good friend and talented writer Neil Colquhoun's entertaining and awesome podcast 'Boiling Point'. You won't be disappointed. So what are you waiting for. Off you go: Information here http://ow.ly/3jlSW Promo here http://ow.ly/3jlVb :)

Friday

Sad Lady

Master of words calls for his angel as a sad lady waits beside a tree. Naked and bound by chains, this sad despondent creature digs her toes in the soft wet ground, while she rubs her tender skin against the harshness of the bark until the pain becomes her pleasure and her suffering becomes his.

Guest Blog Post: Tarnished by Michael D. Griffiths

Abandoned by time, memory, and apparently friends, I wander through the rubble. The sky, gray.

Who am I?

I know things. I know the color of the brown pieces of brick that litter the road. The dull red of rusted metal. I know I’m a woman in a tattered dress that might have once been white.

I can do math and could speak… if there was anyone around to listen. I just have no idea who I am or memory of what this world is like, if this is my world.

An eerie thought passes over me and I shiver. What if I am dead? Could this be an afterlife? The large bruise and the pain that sometimes shoots through my left arm leads me to think otherwise, but that brings up another question.

How was I injured?

My head hurts too. I touch it and see my delicate fingers are now stained with small circles of blood.

I sit on a crumbling column fallen on its side. Looking over my wound, I try to imagine how I might have received it. “This could give me some clue.” My own voice startles me.

It doesn’t. It’s just a bruise. I could have just stumbled; there are loose rocks everywhere.

I start to feel hunger, which is another point for me still being in the land of the living, but this place is so desolate. How could I have survived this long? There doesn’t seem to be food anywhere?

I pause. “Well, I guess the lack of food gives me something to do. For if I don’t find any, all of this won’t matter long.”

My voice didn’t sound as strange this time, like I was subconsciously used to it. But it reminded me that I’m female. Did I have a lover? Is he or maybe even she, looking for me? Are they sad I am gone?

In a weird turn, I wonder how pretty I am, but there is nothing to see myself in. I haven’t seen a puddle yet. This reminds me of how thirsty I am and I must move on.

My humming starts to become a tune and I stop. Is this a clue? Still it revels nothing and I find myself growing frustrated, but I’m not sure if I should laugh, scream, or cry.

Then I hear something.

It doesn’t sound friendly. It growls. I freeze as it moves out from around a crumbling wall. At first I think wolf, but no, it is an ugly mangy dog and very big. It growls again and a thread of drool escapes from its black lips.

Could I be a warrior? Looking down at my smooth slim limbs, I wouldn’t think so.

I try running, but I have no shoes.

It’s running after me. Instinct is still alive. Even if I don’t know who I am, I don’t wish to die. Climbing up the crumbling wall is difficult, but I am free from the fangs, if not the beast. It must be hungry too, for it looks like it has no intension of leaving me. “Perhaps, I could eat you?” I call down from my narrow perch, but it just snarls.

Drawing my knees up to my chin, I try to ignore the sharp stones digging into me and my hunger. Darkness is starting to fall. That could be another point for this being a normal world.

It is still there…

I try to use this time to think, but I have nothing to draw on, no past and maybe not even a future. Time passes slowly. I am not sure if I love or hate the dog. At least it is alive, but my body is feeling worse.

Why be alive at all, if life is so short?

There is another sound now. Much louder. I fear it far more than the dog. It is like an angry God. Even the dog is whimpering. Lights in the sky. Is it angels, devils, something from the stars?

Round glowing lights cover me. Something is drawing near. It’s a disk of chaotic colors. I have nowhere to hide.

Fire, lighting, something awful bursts out to the disc. There is a yelp besides me. The dog has been slain! Am I next?

Something is happening above. I can’t dare look. An object is being lowered. It’s moving. Could it be a person?

It’s a man. He is calling to me. “Jullith, Jullith!” Could this be my name?

He is so graceful and I would have to say handsome. Oh, I’m in his arms. I hug back with hesitation as he whispers sweet praises to me. He says, “I love you.”

“What happened to me?”

Moving me to arms distance, he says, “You don’t remember? Someone kidnapped you and dumped you out here in the wasteland.”

“Why would someone hate me that much? What have I done?”

“It must be someone who disapproves of our wedding and I think I know who they are and I assure you they will pay.”

“Wedding...” I pause. “But why not just kill me? Why dump me here?”

“I think I know. We gave the entire castle a run through the Trutherbox and no one said that they had harmed you. Just leaving you here would allow that answer to be correct, even if their actions would surely lead to your death.”

“You will take care of me now?”

“Of course, my love. Now come. We will get you fed and warm.”

I decide to wait. I’ll wait until he gets me home before I will tell him; I have no memory.

On the floating disc now. Men are bowing. Below me, the rubble he called the wastelands glides by. I can’t help but wonder if it is still where I really belong.

You can check out Mike's blog here: http://jackprimus.wordpress.com/