The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Nine

Part Nine: Curious Sounds from the Box

I have recently been thinking a lot about the different voices I have when writing. I imagine that this will be understandable to you other writers out there (in which I mean both professional as well as those who enjoy just to write a lot), I have been thinking about the different styles I write in, or voices, depending on what it is that I'm writing at the time. For example, this post right now. This is about as close to my regular voice (if we were to be speaking to one another) as I believe that I get in written form. Clint might argue against this, due to the fact that I'm apt to spontaneously make up voices or characters on a whim when speaking, most of which are lost when later trying to recall them, but Clint likes Bleach....which has nothing to do with what I'm writing about now.....so let's move on.
There is my "professional" writing voice, which is what I use when writing to figures of authority. Such as: "I don't believe this restraining order is just" letters, or when writing cover letters for my resume.
There is the voice in which I write my stories in, that is, the books that I'm working on or if only for the captions used under my drawings.
And there is my "street lunatic" voice....also known as Asher Willis Fim...my pseudonym I use when writing complaint letters to companies for no particular reason what so ever....or lately, for writing letters to the "Ask a Mexican" column that I find so entertaining in Denver's Westword weekly alt paper (none of which have been answered yet).

For those of you who are unaware, I currently have two blogs....that is, I post blogs from my MySpace profile as well as to my LiveJournal account. Originally, I had intended for the two to be separate from one another. My MySpace Blog was to be my regular voice of ramblings, thoughts and complaints....while my LiveJournal posts were to be more of the "works in progress" variety, somewhere between my regular voice and professional voice, and linked to my website (which, yes, is as of yet still unfinished goddamnit!). But the two have basically become one for the past year or so, due to the fact that my pursued profession (writing and illustrating) had basically been put on hold due to moving and the general feeling of being "ungrounded". So, instead of just leaving LiveJournal idle all of this time, I started just posting the same material in both. If you are reading this right now in LiveJournal, you can be sure that the same exact words are also lying in wait over in my MySpace Blog, and vice a versa.

That being said, I think it's due time to write an update on the work I've been doing, considering the fact that lately I've finally been doing a lot of writing and illustrating, feeling more grounded....or at least that I'm slowly finally landing on my feet. Granted, I'm landing on my feet now after stepping off of a twenty plus story building near two years ago, but landing on the feet nonetheless. I will refrain from writing this works in progress update in my newly acquired "landing" voice which would sound like:

"DEAR GOD THE PAIN!!!! FOR THE LOVE OF RELIGIOUS THINGS AND WHATNOT!!! I THINK MY FEMUR IS PROTRUDING FROM MY SKULL!!!!"

...because I doubt it would make for a good voice for such....that, and I plan to use it instead as my new "professional" voice from now on:

"OH DEAR SIRS FOR CHRIST'S SAKE....OR TO WHOM IT HURTS SO FUCKING BAD IT MIGHT CONCERN, I REGRET TO INFORM YOU AAAAAAAAA THAT I WILL NOT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD THE PAIN BE ABLE TO ATTEND THE FUNCTION BECAUSE I'M LEAKING TOO MANY VITAL FLUIDS!!!!!"

Like I said, I have been working again now that the inspiration has returned, which, albeit, is kind of strange to me seeing as my regular mode seems to be to work during the Fall and Winter months and to become lethargic in the Spring and Summer. But whatever....use the Muse when she arrives. I recently decided to put aside the two novels that I've been working on for the past two years, the Sinking Stones as well as Angel Soup, due to the fact that they have become much more involved than I originally anticipated as well as the fact that after working sporadically on them during this transient period, my thoughts regarding them have become muddled and disjointed. Better to put them away for awhile and return to them fresh later.
Instead, I started working a few weeks ago on a book titled Tonic, which is actually a complete rethinking of a previously self published work titled Meresin's Brew. I printed Meresin's Brew back in '98, and it has been a work that has always kind of bothered me, partly because I always felt that I didn't put enough time into it. I did, I admit, rush the story and drawings for it, mainly because I wanted to get it out there...and even though I got good responses over it (mostly, I think, because it actually made more sense than the book I published right before it), it's always been a thorn in my spleen.

Above is the cover in progress for the book, still to be worked on, but this is the main idea for it. The first draft is near completion. Basically, the theme is the same: the main character finds an unlabled bottle at home, and the strange events that take place afterwards and as he drinks it....but I have reworked it to include a few other characters as well as more of a reason behind the events.
I hope to start the illustrations for it in the next few months, after I move the rest of the surviving possessions to Denver. I have been toying with the thought of making the individual chapters available to download for under a dollar each, or something....mainly because it might help me to illustrate it faster. I don't know, still mulling that thought over. Hopefully after publishing it, it will cease to haunt me.

I've also been working on cover ideas for the Crying Attic...

The above is the (as of yet) winning illustrated idea for the cover, in a rough mode. I have to admit, envisioning the cover for this book has been difficult, and I'm still struggling with ideas and concepts.
The actual story is finished, after having gone through a dozen or more rewrites, as well as 90% of the illustrations (I have been promised that these things have survived the storage disaster...and I REALLY hope that is true!). I have written about this story before, so to sum up, it is basically a ghost story told in three related acts that form a written Moebius Strip.
I'm looking forward to getting it here finally so that I can finish the work on it, hopefully having the cover design figured out in that time, and start working towards finally publishing it.

Bread is a fairy tale that has been in the back of my mind for years, taking many different shapes, but staying somewhat formless. About a week or so ago, I had some fun with some leftover bread ends, a few of which as shown below:

...and for some reason that I have no explanation for, the story suddenly came together. That, for me, is one of the more exciting aspects about writing fiction, when the story works itself out. I have had this happen with several of my projects (part of why I feel ok with the idea of putting work aside for a length of time when the writing gets stale or I find that I'm stuck on a part of the narration, sometimes the blurry parts become focused when I'm not looking at them) and it's always the same feeling I get when discovering a new author or just a new book that speaks to me. In a lot of ways being a writer of your own fiction makes you also the work's first audience.
The notes and ideas that I've had for Bread have been scattered all over the place, and I'm currently in the process of reorganizing them and outlining the story. I should start writing the first draft in the coming weeks.
Due to their part in the congealing of the book, I plan to use one of the bread guys for the cover photo....a new one with a handmade mask stitched into the bread; I've also been thinking of incorporating them into the drawings for the story, like little Easter Eggs.
The story itself can best be described with it's moral (as many fairy tales are apt to have): Be Careful What You Dream. It also will be written within the rule of threes, which any of you who have read and/or studied fairy tales will know, is one of the unwritten practices when writing them. Three little Pigs...the Three Bears in Goldylocks...the Three Questions Little Red Riding Hood asks....ect.

Other than working on these books, I have been crying in the shower a lot, but I promised myself that I wouldn't write about that in my blog....so you should probably forget I said anything.

Actually, I have been toying with the idea (which has now become more of a plan) to do away with my Etsy account, due to lack of use on my part, and just starting an Ebay storefront where I'll post drawings and handmade items for sale. This won't be happening until I get my possessions from Pennsylvania and see who the survivors are. When built, the store will contain original drawings, handmade dolls and puppets I've been doing.....and preserved bread wearing masks (you THINK that I'm kidding!)

I'm also working on a post about doing what has been dubbed as the Portraits Project on an on order basis....

...but again, this is on hold for the moment until after relocating to Denver and getting a little more situated. I'll definitely explain more about this in the near future.

Lastly, I have been goofing off with photoshop....that is, I've always wanted to alter photos of people into versions of what they'd look like as my drawings. Here is an example I did quickly:

....Unfortunately, finding the right photos to do this with is a LOT harder than I thought it would be. I no longer have an account with Photos.com, which would have been great for images. So, if anyone has any leads to good free photo sites that contain head shots of people (preferably with no backgrounds), let me know.

Only one blog post to go!

The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Eight...Addendum

Part Eight Addendum: the Purple Shriveled Pickle

I felt that it would be important to add this little tidbit, if for no better reason than getting to use the word "tidbit", and also due to the fact that it's not entirely true that everything in the past few weeks has been of the mixed blessing variety. There is a really good thing to share as well:

My brother and his girlfriend, Corinne, recently announced their engagement! This is awesome because they, in my opinion, are really good together and because I already have come to view her as a sister.....a purple-haired sister that listens to shitty pseudo punk music....but a sister nonetheless. And I'm NOT about to publicly chastise her right now due to the fact that she's going to go see Hank Williams 3 tonight with the other retards.

Please feel free to use the above links to give congrats to the happy couple if you feel the need.....add them to your friend's list, send them angry letters about things that they have nothing to do with or send them money to help get started drinking early tonight.

In other news, the internet connection seems to be up again finally, after being down for the past several days; I have the entire day off and plan to finish up the last two posts of this directionless ten part series that I originally intended to have all posted within two or three days after starting....then I will start a series of One part series posts, because that makes more sense. My feet itch, just thought you all should know.

The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Eight

Part Eight: the Mixed Blessing Blood Trail

So, yeah. I haven't kept up with this here bloggy machine thing that well as of late, nor have I been very good at keeping in touch with many friends, acquaintances or those that I don't even really like but scare me enough into pretending that I do lest I find myself forced into race dialing 911 while they swing a rusty nail-studded bat around my room while screaming unintelligible phrases about the "little piggies"! (You know who you are!)

So, I suppose a little list of current events is in order:

A plan was finally formulated to acquire my possessions from storage (including my car). This would have taken place the first week of August. The key-word here is "would".

My brother and I were recently asked to leave the condo we are/were living in in Westminster by our landlords, who I suspect made this decision while on one of their many coke-addled benders. At first we were given 30 days and the story that they planned to sell the condo....that turned into 12 days and a story that they needed the time to fix the place up for other potential renters. After much protesting and threatening of legal recourse, it turned back into 30 days...and so on. At this point I really have lost track of how much time we have and what the new reason behind the decision is, and I couldn't really give a fuck. This is what put the "would" in the previous event.

Before I left Pennsylvania I took everything I still owned out of the storage place that I was renting and put it into the corner of the small unfinished room of the basement in my folk's house. Now, due to an error on the plumber's part when the house was being constructed, the drain in that room had to be plugged because it was a slightly higher elevation than the others and caused slight problems with the toilets and what not. This would only ever be a problem if, let's say, one of the two water-heaters not five feet from where my stuff was, exploded and then proceeded to spray unchecked for 12 or so hours. I don't know the full extent of the loss, and probably won't for the next few days, but I do know that so far the casualties include my bed, the desk, the drawing table, my matte-cutter, framed artwork (mine as well as others that were bought or given to me), all my crescent board, my case of Arches Paper, an undetermined (as of yet) number of books and the entire contents of my portfolio. The lone water heater also took out my parent's basement basically....including their bar, bathroom, some furniture and all the carpet. What a soldier!

I was described, many years ago by the parents of one of my close friends, as insouciant, which has become one of my favorite words. For the most part I'd like to believe that that is true, but that's not to mean that I don't suffer from the same moods as others, just that I usually do a good job of either hiding it from everybody or knowing when to avoid people altogether, usually only my close friends or those that have known me for years being able to see through the façade.
Luckily, this fact still held true during all of this, for I honestly believe that had I somehow found myself as coke-addled as my landlords, I would have been picked up by the police in Denver for publicly punting babies!
As fun as that would have been, I have also learned in all my years that the downsides to things usually come with upsides in the same package. Luckily this holds true with all of the events listed above.

My folks apparently have great Homeowner's Insurance, and even though we don't know the full extent of the damage as of yet, we have been assured that everything will be covered....I just wish I could see the representative's face when he learns exactly HOW MUCH some of this lost stuff was worth.
This promised sum affords me the ability to not only stay in Colorado (which I really thought I'd have to leave after the many conflicting announcements of when and why we were being expelled from the condo) but to move into Denver far earlier than I originally had planned to, which is good due to the fact that I really can't stand Westminster!
This also puts acquiring my stuff and car back into motion, just slated for the end of August now instead of the beginning. And let's face it....it's looking like I'll have less to move now! Ha!

I think I just shit blood in my pants......

Not Part of the Soggy Toast Saga.....

About two or so years ago, my girlfriend at the time and I were witnesses to a horrible scene on Bardstown Road while trying to enjoy our chai teas outdoors, that is, we saw a medium sized dog get struck by a car. The car must have only swiped him for he was very much still alive, yelping and circling in the middle of the busy street, before laying down out of fear or shock. We both were trying to get out into the road, waving down traffic in order to do so, when a second car ran completely over this dog! It didn't even seem like the car made any attempt to swerve or slow down even....it just let both tires roll this poor dog like a rag doll. Nor did it even stop afterwards. I will maybe give them the benefit of doubt that they didn't have time to see the dog before striking it, but there is no possible way they couldn't have known that they ran it over.

I'm bringing this up tonight because I remember the wave of anger and awe I felt then thinking about how people could be so fucking heartless and uncaring.

Tonight, I was driving home from work in Denver on 25 North. There is a long curved ramp from this Interstate to get onto 36 West, which I was in the process of navigating when I witnessed a van, maybe two car lengths in front of me, change lanes directly infront of two motorcycles. Actually, more like changing lanes INTO the two motorcycles, to be more precise. One of the bikers managed to control his braking fishtale and swerved into the left lane (luckily unoccupied at that time), but the other biker started sliding sideways. The car infront of me quickly changed lanes to avoid what was about to happen, and I got the front row seat of watching this biker finally roll once, still with his bike, then roll face first into the concrete barrier at the side of the ramp (no, he was not wearing a helmet, of course).....went limp as a doll, rolling along side the gutter, and his bike then running him over. I came to a stop in the shoulder not ten feet from where he laid on his back. Amazingly, he was not only still alive, but conscious, and I ran to him while dailing 911. I did my best trying to tell him to just lie still and that an ambulance would be on it's way soon, but he was in a great deal of pain, and his head was split wide open on the right side and partly caved in.
His partner ran to us and helped in trying to keep him calm, and luckily a passing off duty nurse and EMT stopped to help as much as they could. The ambulance and police finally arrived and took over, and it was then that I finally realized that the van that caused this accident never stopped....NOR did the people directly in front of me who witnessed the whole event as well!

I don't really know what I'm trying to say with this blog. I feel sick! Not only for what I witnessed, of course, but for the fact that these people could drive away like that! What could possibly be in thier heads to make them that way? Are we who stopped to help THAT different in make up?
This poor guy's friend kept thanking me for calling 911 as if it was an unheard of thing to do, the police as well thanked me in that same way for the very same act!

The dog that got run over twice, over two years ago, did survive, and seemed like it would do well. I doubt I will be able to say that about the biker.

I'm going to drink myself to sleep now.

The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Seven

Part Seven: Being Windy like a Peanut

It has come to my attention recently that many cities across the states now take part in what can best be described as a Zombie Mob Day. A day where hundreds of people dress as zombies and wander the streets as if the rapture were happening now.
There is a part of me that really wants to support and possibly participate in such events, seeing as how the idea of the living dead has always been one of my favorite horror/creature subjects, and the wave of excitement that comes over me thinking about how finally the idea of zombies are becoming more widely accepted as a genre all it's own, thanks to such films as 28 Day Later (not entirely zombies, I know) and the, in my opinion, brilliant rethinking of Romero's Dawn of the Dead, as well as from Max Brook's books The Zombie Survival Guide and World War Z. But, at the same time, I almost feel as if I might be the only one who sees the dangers in such acceptance and with such events as the Zombie Mobs taking place.

One of the main reasons, in my opinion, to document and study the history of mankind and societies in general, is to learn from it. In other words, to learn from past mistakes. As individuals we are able to do this almost unfailingly. Hit a baby with a taser gun every time it tries to pet the salivating dog and eventually it'll stop trying, and most likely grow up with an unbelievable fear and hatred of dogs....but that's just a funny side effect.
As a collective we seem almost unable to do this. Hit a group of babies with a taser gun every time one tries to pet the dog and they'll blame one another, try to ban heavy metal and video games, but they'll keep trying to pet that damn dog! And will someone stop ringing that fucking bell?!!

Now, to bring this back to the subject of Zombie Mobs I'll give you all a few examples of where we should have learned better. First, Halloween....which gave people born with the condition known as "Rubber Face Syndrome", or as I like to call it, "Soup Face", a day that they could come out and mingle relatively free from blatant stares and persecution. The second, Mardi Gras....which introduced topless dancers into polite society.
And while both of these examples are relatively free of serious society altering side effects, they should at least give people pause to think about what could possibly happen when the undead feel free to join the masses of the living. I mean, just think about the number of people, in Florida especially but in other states as well, that had already been dead for sometime but still managed to vote for Bush in the past two elections!

Next I plan to combat the Tooth Fairy, who's very concept introduces children to prostitution by teaching them that it's not only ok but easy to sell your body for money.

The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Six

Part Six: the Sounds from Behind the Toilet

...In which we find our hero duct taped to a wall of the room filled with flesh eating eels. Will he survive? Stay tuned and find out.

The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Five

Part Five: Closed on Account of being Soiled

I have received many messages from readers on the fact that I should make more lists of things like I did in the earlier stages of blogging. As you can tell from previous blogs, I'm trying to do just that. So get the fuck off my back about it!!

I also have received several requests to bring back the "Guess what Clint's Listening to Now?!" topic. Seeing as I have not been living in an apartment below Clint for a year now, this subject seemed moot. But still, I suppose I enjoy the idea of still trying to guess.
So, here are my guesses as to what Clint is listening to right now:

- A nice piece of progressive rock, circa 1977 or thereabouts.

- Dogs barking at nothing, and barking, and barking, and barking.

- The sounds of Bleach, as only his ears can detect.

- His redneck neighbors plot his demise.

Please feel free to add your own guesses to the list. The closest guess will win a used wetnap and the scorn of the Allen. Clint Allen and those related to Clint Allen are not only eligible, but required to submit guesses. A sandwich is only considered a sandwich when two or more slices of bread are involved. Folding the bread in half over it's contents does not make it a sandwich, but rather a sad looking mock hotdog type thing. That has really nothing to do with this post, it's just from a drunken argument I had once.

The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Four

I have been asked several times over the past year when I'm going to move back to Louisville. In all honesty, I can't get mad at this question due to the fact that it's because I have attempted to move away three other times from that spider's web of a town, each time returning to it in just about a years time. Granted, two of the attempts landed me in Iowa, and the other, in State College PA.....so, I can't really be blamed for going back.
And, in truth, I loved Louisville. I wouldn't have moved back constantly or stayed for the amount of time there, had I not loved that place. The area is absolutely beautiful. The city has a great history that can still be felt in the old buildings of downtown and Old Louisville area. I have met and friended some of the most creative, unique and intelligent people there....and even though it's near, Louisville is not Indiana.
But, even that being said, I knew for a long time that I needed to move from there, but allowed myself to get stuck in what was basically an unhealthy situation. This is a hard subject to explain, but the just of it is that the bad started to outweigh the good for me there.
Anyone reading this who has moved around while growing up, or who has traveled enough I'm sure will agree that almost everywhere that you go in the U.S., things stay basically the same. The cities usually have the same problems with zoning, crime, racial tensions. There is always that group of people at the bar that says there is never anything to do in this town. The local radio station has that guy who is the morning commute madman dj, and the local weather interrupts your favorite show to let you know that it might sprinkle fifty miles from where you are. There are just as many constant good points, but listing the bad are always more fun. But, underneath all of this is what makes every place that you go in the states slightly different....even more so than geography. For lack of a better term, let's say that this is the town or city's attitude. This is the feeling that you get somewhere that differentiates it from everywhere else that you've been. It is the feeling spurred on by the people that you know, meet, interact with. It is even there with you when you are watching the local television, listening to local radio, or even when you find yourself totally alone.
Let's just say that for me, the attitude that I attributed with Louisville had for years become almost unbearable.
Once that starts to happen you begin to notice the other things about an area that you consider negative. Like I said before, Louisville contains some of the most intelligent, creative people that I have ever been fortunate enough to meet. I have also said that Louisville is a spider's web. Most of those people will never actually do anything with their talent or dreams. Louisville is a very very easy place to live in, which makes it also a very hard place to leave or get beyond. In my opinion, I'd have to say that at least 90% of anyone worth a damn in that town will never accomplish anything. Hell, most of the successful artists, musicians and writer's you hear of from Louisville are people that have come from there, only being noticed after having left. It is a very rare thing for one to become successful while staying there.
It's true that every so often there is an attempt to revive the artistic culture within the town, and while these attempts are valiant, they more often than not turn into nothing more than gatherings of wine drinking squishy peoples who spend their time talking shit on those who happened not to be present at the time, only to act like their best friends upon encountering them later. Not only that, but I have watched the great music scene slowly dwindle to the point of closet dust over the years....so much so that touring bands won't hardly even consider Louisville for a resting point. Hell, even Dave Chappel vowed that he would never return to the city due to the lack of respect he was shown during his show there.
Honestly, I'm not trying to offend anyone with this post, it's more of an explanation of why I left and why my answer to the questions of when I will be moving back is, never. I do miss Louisville. I miss my close friends, the large trees and beautiful architecture. I miss the feeling of inspiration that I originally felt upon moving there. I miss the comfortable feeling of knowing my surroundings like my own skin and not being able to walk a whole block without running into a friend. I miss the Bristol (the old haunt) and their Green Chili Wantons. I miss Chai at Highland Coffee and being able to walk anywhere that I needed to get to.
But, I don't miss any of this enough to want to live there again.
Despite all of this, I am still a fan of Louisville. I lived in that city for longer than anyplace else my entire life, and for that reason I will always consider it my home town, that and also because Kansas City won't let me consider it for that due to the fact that I'm not a fan of Bar B Que.
I only hate Louisville about 10%.

The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Three

Part Three: the Lonely Sandbag with a Leak

Here are some random, completely untrue facts about the new state that I have decided to call home:

- Colorado is both the 38th as well as the 43rd state of the United States.....it makes sense if you accept the fact that Idaho doesn't really exist.

- The state bird is the groundhog.

- Colorado is home to the highest population of nocturnal randomly howling dogs.

- Colorado and Kansas have been at war since 1861, but the Colorado Militia hasn't led an offensive for over a hundred years due to the fact that Kansas is so unorganized, they keep attacking themselves.

- Shuffleboard is outlawed in Denver.

- Not being smug is outlawed in Boulder.

- The state bird is the Mexican.

- The Rocky Mountains were originally named the 'Lenny Mountains', until Lenny got flattened by a rock.

- Colorado has the highest percentage of stolen American Flags in the states.

- Colorado has the second highest number of hacky sack related deaths, second only to Indiana of all places.....but that's probably because Indiana's state motto is "kill the hippies".

- Colorado is home to what is known as "the Most Unsuccessful Sea-Port in the World".

- The state bird is Bob Denver.

- About 34% of all Coloradans are not in the other 66% in this poll alone.

- The rain never makes it to the ground in Colorado. EVER!

- Denver has the third highest population of Emo kids, who buy their depression from Hot Topic.

- Just like every other state, Colorado is the birthplace of the cheeseburger, which is a bragging right I've always wondered about.

- Colorado is the home and headquarters for the Society of Cannibals against Rational Thought.....or P.E.T.A. for short.

- Four out of every three Coloradans believe in unicorns, whether they admit it or not.

- Greeting someone is considered 'foreplay' in Fort Collins.

- Colorado's state motto is "at Least We're Not Montana"....which is also the same state motto for Nevada.

...and that's enough for now. I will most definitely have more fun and completely untrue facts to share with you as the future unfolds for me in my new surroundings.