Vampires Keeping Me Up At Night

Recently, I've found a ton of information that I'm regarding very dear right now. The blog Guide to Literary Agents has been indispensable. I've begun polishing my query letter, put together a nice long synopsis, and I'm revising a one-page synopsis. I plan on querying as of the new year. I'm feeling very, very confident. And with a superb Ravens win yesterday, it's been a good week. Until last night. I was hit with a severe fever out of nowhere, and broke down with the shakes. Luckily my girlfriend was there to nurse me back to health in the middle of the night.

Merry Christmas. I'm off to play with my new toy. And I plan on writing the day away beside the tree with my girl and my dog and watching The Fearless Vampire Killers on the iPad. And eating lots of Nutty Bars. And pills. Okay, Merry Christmas everybody!

I sat down last night and crafted a whole new query letter. One hundred-fifty thousand words funneled down into one paragraph. Eek. Well, if I can't pitch my book in one small letter, perhaps this thing's not worth getting published, let alone reading. I'm thinking about printing the manuscript and sending it to DAW books the way it is. I've edited it about as much as I personally can. I've joined an online writing workshop, but so far had no reviews. Paying a book doctor at this point might be too expensive. And I haven't been rejected by a publishing house in over a year or two. But, I've yet to query agents in the past year or two, the time that this story's had some major revising done. Popping a couple pills tonight and getting to work. Weird that I haven't lost inspiration in the seven years that this story, in one form or another, has been revised and edited.

So, there is this story floating around in my head, and it goes like this: Cartoon Dracula is depressed. His wife, Mina, has left him for America. He is contemplating a sun-baked death when he receives word that Mina is co-mingling with a French vampire in New Orleans. Determined to win back his love, Cartoon Dracula leaves on a boat ("Demeter," of course) and sets off for the Big Easy. Upon entering New Orleans, Cartoon Dracula is assailed by a trio of young, cocky (and depressed, in Edvard's case) vampires. After hearing that the vampire king himself was arriving in their adopted city, Lesnot rounds up his coven to entertain their sacred ancestor and progenitor. And this is the beginning of the synopsis for a Disney-inspired mash-up of vampire fiction I've been fooling around with. I really have no idea how one query's the great Disney, but I'm finding this story to be fun, regardless.

Over the past few days I have found incredible resources on the web. First, I may have found help with the manuscript editing services, care of Michael Garrett . During our first email correspondence, I felt that Mr. Garrett may be the perfect person for the job, if he so chooses to take on my story. There's always the possibility that he will decline to edit my work, but I have listened to his advice immediately, and begun implementing some changes already. Next, there's the Guide to Literary Agents blog , with invaluable advice all over the place. Since my last attempt with the art of the query letter, I've learned so much. Now, after the revisions to my story (from 150,000 words to nearly 100,000 goal), I can begin to search once again for a literary agent. I'll keep you updated as always, dear lonely blog.

I really should've given this show a chance when it first debuted, because I am really very addicted now. Initially I immediately shunned the show due to it seemingly obvious imitating of TWILIGHT , and badly. More young, brooding and handsome vampires walking in the sun was an insult to vampire lore, but then things were explained slowly, and I took the bait. Now I'm hooked, after having just finished Season One. And after the chaotic conclusion of Season Three of TRUE BLOOD , this is a surprisingly great vampire TV show. Damon Salvatore is one of the coolest anti-hero vampires around, and the use of fog in his early appearances was a pleasant ploy to my fanboy psyche. And Elaina Gilbert/Catherine now moves to #4 on my Halloween list of hottest vampires. I would say that my only gripe with the plot is how many vampires are given the deus ex machina gift of sun protection... Anyway, now onto Season Two episodes courtesy of iTunes.

Well it's that wonderful time of year again, my favorite holiday - Halloweentober! It really should be a month-long event, not just celebrated on the 31st, in my opinion. And as I'm in my vampire-marathon watching mode currently, I got to thinking about how many hot vampires there are in film and television. These are women I would welcome into my bed, shower, or coffin before they could even glamour me. So, my favorites list is reserved this Halloween for hottest (female) vampires. #1 Hottest Female Vampire Evan Rachel Wood, A.K.A Sophie-Anne, Vampire Queen of Louisiana Sophie-Anne is simply breathtaking. She is beautiful beyond words. Granted her character has become quite useless in the third season of True Blood , Evan Rachel remains sexy during her few scenes. Her pale-as-milk skin and red hair give her an angelic, divine quality. #2 Hottest Female Vampire Alyson Hannigan, A.K.A. Vampire Willow Willow was my teenage fantasy: quiet, unassuming and shy. Intelligent and quir

Last night was even shittier. The O's blow a 9th inning lead to the Yankees, and their fans cheered me right out of the Yard--right out of my own ballpark. That home run hurt, Koji. Today I've learned that life is rough in the service industry. It was a lesson that I had perhaps forgotten over time. The only thing that has gotten me through the day is the fact that I will soon be walking along the old Oaks of New Orleans. Perhaps I'll visit a murky swamp stuffed with creeping cypresses. Or maybe spot a ghost in Jean Lafitte's... Well, it's back to the Yard tonight.

Last night I witnessed the grittiest football game ever. The Ravens barely won a defensive grudge match filled with tempers worthy of a Superbowl. I'm exhausted from merely watching this game. But Baltimore's purple birds won, and I feel somehow much better for it... Oh yeah, the O's knocked in a walk-off run in extra innings nearly the same moment to win, again. New Orleans looks to be a reality, though we should miss Halloween by one evening. Regardless, we will once more be staying on St Charles Ave. Perhaps my last visit to New Orleans for a while, I vowed to read the final Vampire Chronicles book, BLOOD CANTICLE once and for all. Years ago, when I learned that Anne Rice would not continue these novels, I promised not to finish the series, fearing some finality in completing them. But as I read BLACKWOOD FARM now, I remember how I fell in love with her stories in the first place. And it seems fitting that I finish the possible final book in the series in New Orleans. My

New Orleans is calling out to me like a siren's song, tempting me with her striking, ancient beauty with promises of a glimpse of something special, something supernatural. I don't know what it is, this feeling, but I felt something like it after I left the city. Once home, I had this feeling in my gut that I had just lost a friend, abandoned a sibling. And I say this with the utmost sincerity. I truly missed walking along St Charles Ave or Bourbon Street. Sitting in Cafe Du Monde or the Garden District Book Store or sitting on the banks of the Mississippi. The food, the smells, the architecture, but there was something more. It was feeling that underneath all of that fiction there was something in New Orleans that transcends this reality. There was a child-like hope that things that go bump in the night exist, here. The very first New Orleanian we conversed with was at our hotel on St Charles Ave, and he implored us not to touch the cats, for they would steal our souls, trappi

It's been quite a while since I've posted to you, blog. And for that I am sorry, but not really. It's been a whirlwind of summer, and I have had little time for writing. Sad, sure--but I've got a new pad, new dog, and a new job (maybe, just maybe, a career). But I miss the book. I miss the story. Every night I contemplate watching the O's (lose another game) or opening the file of my story, and I usually always choose baseball. Not because baseball means more to me than my story, no, that's not it. The story possibly means more to me than anything else. It's the lack of numbness I associate with writing that I have been missing. And dear blog, excuse me, but I've been writing here long enough for you to see right through my vagueness--you know what I mean. And without the help of this optimistic numbness it is ever harder to enjoy that world I've created, the world I continue to shape in my mind but sparingly never on paper (or on the computer). Mayb

Things rarely change, right? So after not posting here to this dear, dear diary of a blog for a while, things are probably not a whole lot different. Well yes and no. I'm definitely in a better position, a career, than I was before. Now I spend most of my time working on getting into a new home so that maybe I can get back to work on DISPLACED . The Orioles still suck, and yet I stay with them always, always... Addiction, to whatever, is probably the most ridiculous mountain you could ever hope to climb. It reminds me of the literal mountain in Vampire Hunter D: Raiser of Gales in which curious humans begin a climb to the castle ruins above, only to remain stuck in a timeless void, climbing for eternity entrenched in a hopeless bubble never to reach the top. So to say that I've gone days without that precious synthetic optimism would be meaningless. Who cares? It could be with me for decades. Perhaps it's the journey of ridding myself of the stuff that I'm doing all wr

I was actually free of the endless traps of pills for over two weeks... and then I slipped. Luckily, I couldn't binge or indulge further. But it's getting better. Granted I was sick for most of it, but I survived.

I have been gone awhile, again, and there has been so much goin on during this time... But I don't want to talk about that. I want to mention that I've changed the title for UNIQUE to The Displaced Vampire. Maybe the change is pointless, I don't know. But I wanted to freshen this thing up, and maybe light another fire under my literary ass. THE UNIQUE DESTRUCTION OF AN ORDINARY SOUL sounded great to me, but perhaps it was a bit too long.

Near Dark is perhaps the most underrated genre film of all time, let alone in vampire canon. I've watched it in back-to-back weekends now, enamored with the sinister '80s score, the pure bloody violence that makes you wince, the almost lovingly way in which Kathryn Bigelow caresses vampire mythology and the American Western. In short, the film rocks. I bring this up because I realize that I failed to mention it on this blog before. My only gripe is the Deus Ex Machina ending, but it was the 1980s, so I can forgive it. A film this gritty just couldn't be produced today. The way that Mae listens to the night, accepting her immortality as she looks at the stars wistfully inspires cold chills. Subtle scenes like this build upon one another to make it a quintessential vampire film. When it was released in 1987, it was overshadowed by the more popular The Lost Boys, which was to be expected. But these two films coerced Hollywood to make more serious vampire flicks. I could write

Seven sleepless nights, tossing and turning, had become unbearable. I figured I had had this thing beat, but today I gave into the pull of desperation, and now, at this moment, I feel great - not a hint of shame, just numb acceptance and finally the ability to sleep, to relax. To stop thinking about it for a few hours, at least. White pills are keeping me up at night. Hopefully it will be only the vampires tonight.

I have always wanted to visit Portland. I've been to Seattle, and it was a beautiful welcome to the Pacific Northwest. So visiting the areas second largest city - which is somehow no less artistic - would obviously be a pleasure, as well. Having no real inclination to attend this Vampire Masquerade Ball, I nonetheless wanted to mention it, in case I do in fact manage to attend this thing. Though the masquerade masks and such make me remember Eyes Wide Shut and the potential sex party this ball could break out to be... The web site is beautiful. Check it out: Vampire Masquerade Ball

I may have found the breaking point. Everyone has one, and mine may have been slowly eating away at me for years, but I fear - nay, I rejoice! - that I may have found mine! I have been patient enough, I believe. I have took every punch, every broken bone, and every set-back and rolled with it, absorbed it, and I hope become a better man for it. Sometimes it's hard to keep getting up. However, that doesn't mean I won't get up again. I need a fantasy factory. I need my own place to absorb inspiration, instead of calamity. Losing my job was potentially one of the best things to happen to me, but if I fail to make the best of it, it will have been for nothing. But I need a new avenue for finding an literary agent, or an editor. I, I, I, I, I, iaiaiaiaii ! I have lacked academic and employment success. I am once again at the very bottom struggling my way back to something with a little more optimism. I am like the undead, crawling my way through six feet of dark, pliant earth re

No, dear online diary and blog, I am not dead, nor have I given up on you or my book, for that matter. I have only taken an extended absence while I figured out what the hell I will do for a living now. Well no, I didn't figure that out yet. Time will tell if I ever do or not. Finally I have gotten out of the latest in a long line of dead-end jobs, and have been given the ability to stay at home, with pay no less, and write and polish and write some more. And polish some more. 2010 is off to a fantastic start, I would say. My education, not so much. But that's for another post...