Long Days

Once you leave the Valley on on the westbound 101, the real sprawl of Southern California is revealed. I always thought that Westlake Village, Newbury Park, Thousand Oaks, etc. were more or less next to each other in the same way that Northridge, Granada Hills, North Hills and Reseda are. Instead, there are miles and miles of freeway in between the towns, the side of the road looking sort of pastoral, at least pastoral in a dry, fire-zone sort of way that marks our fair half of the State.

I headed out to Camarillo to do an interview. The drive there, with barely any traffic, took just over an hour. It seems to be roughly the same distance as driving to Pomona, but it is a much nicer trek. It was a good interview and I'm glad that I made the drive because seeing things in person always gives the story a much better perspective.

I got home later than I had expected, having hit the typical gridlock that runs every which way through the Valley in the evening. Missed a meeting I wanted to attend, but I kind of figured that would happen.

I think this story is going to turn out pretty well.

Still Undead After All These Years

When I was a teenager, I was really into vampires-- Anne Rice novels, Poppy Z. Brite's Lost Souls, VHS copies of Dark Shadows, etc. I even once wrote a story for my freshman history class about an immortal waif "contemplating her contemplation." We were studying the Romantics. And you can stop laughing now.

Then I got over it.

It wasn't until a year or two ago that I rekindled my love of the undead. I started watching Trinity Blood and the "Never Land" episode gave me the creeps, so I kept watching it (and started reading the light novels too). Then I got hooked on Blood Plus (and, of course, the original Blood), which I absolutely adore. Seriously, if I had time, I would probably write Saya and Haji fan fiction.

And then someone suggested that I read Twilight, so I am. Through that I found out about a whole slew of YA vampire titles (both actual books and manga), which I am now in the process of acquiring and reading. In some roundabout way, this all leads up to me dragging Carlos to Huntington Beach so that we could go to a Barnes & Nobel in the middle of one of those non-mall malls for the Pitch Black Book Tour. The tour featured Nancy A. Collins (Vamps), Claudia Gray (Evernight) and Ellen Schreiber (Vampire Kisses).

About five minutes into the event, I realized that the audience for vampire fiction is pretty much the same as it was back when I was geeking out over Lost Souls.  

Most of the crowd was under 18 and female. In fact, the only boys I saw looked like they didn't particularly want to be there. The girls traveled in small teams and more or less looked the same. It was, primarily, a sea of black-- black sweatshirts, black tattered skirts, black shoes with shiny silver buckles. Their hair was either dyed black/something Manic Panic or was left its unfortunately natural shade of mouse brown and their lips were painted a dark, scabby shade of red that I'm almost certain was the same Revlon Blackberry lipstick that was the coolest thing ever in 1992. Within every mini-pack, there is one normal, you know, the friend that's been around for so long that everyone overlooks the fact that she wears neutral colors. Either some things never change or there's a serious '90s revival heading our way.

Dolls Remixed

On Saturday, I headed over to the Elfdoll showroom in Glendale for a Halloween party. Elfdoll is a Korean brand of ball-jointed dolls. Like other BJDs, they are made from resin and have great opportunities for remixing, which you will notice if you check out my LA Weekly story.

This was a fun story to write. I enjoyed meeting the BJD enthusiasts and loved looking at the way they redid their dolls for the Halloween contest (which was open to dolls made by other firms too). I love the idea that you can buy something that is basically a piece of art (they are handmade) and then play around with it to change the doll's appearance. Maybe I'll write more about BJDs later.

The Day Sort of Looks Like This

The few times that I have spoken to people about writing, someone has asked about writer's block. My answer is typically the same, I start working on something else.

I don't know if today's episode is so much a block, as the bulk of the story is done. It's more like those big bumps in the road that my idiot neighbors had the city install, you know the kind that you swear will rip off the bottom half of your car one of these days. Point being though, I can't think straight right now, so I have to move on to something else.

I have two different assignments that will take me through the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. When I return home, I will write up one of the assignments to turn in tomorrow. Then, hopefully, I will be able to finish this piece.

But I Only Have 1000 Words

One thousand words is a solid length for a music piece, it's long enough to go past hype and touch upon details, but not so long that the story will meander. Most of the time, I can compose a 1000 word profile without experiencing stress-related stomach-churns and back spasms. This story, though, is a little different.

I won't give away the subject of the article, but I will say that it is one of my favorite bands and it is a story that I have been wanting to do in this capacity for a while because a) it was a band I actually interviewed ten years ago, but I wanted to do it again because I'm better at the job now and b) it's a band that I truly believe people should hear. This band literally brought me to teenage hysteria the first time I saw them live (granted, I might have still been a teenager at the time, or had just turned 20). That night, I think I spent most of the time inadvertently screaming into my friend Tony's ear. It's a band that is so prolific that despite having spent a very pretty penny amassing a collection, I have only acquired, at the very most, 10% of the entire discography. It's a band on which I can write 10,000 words in a state of half-drunk, half-sleep, when I am the least coherent. But, I only have 1000 words and I'm trying to express the significance of a band that is still virtually unknown outside of certain subcultures despite almost thirty years of existence, over 100 releases (estimated) and countless tours. On top of that, there are so many details in the band's history that are crucial to explaining what it is now and now that I have two or three hundred words to go, I fear that I might accidentally leave out something important. Maybe I should just free write for an hour and take it from there.

This is the curse of knowing too much.

Upcoming: Gitane Demone & Dame Darcy @ Bar Sinister

My friend Elizabeth of eFeM Productions is co-promoting tomorrow night's Bar Sinister event and it's going to be special. The evening will begin with Gitane Demone, who played with Christian Death in addition to her own numerous solo releases, screening her new DVD Life After Death, featuring footage of her past performances with Rozz Williams. Demone will be signing copies of the DVD as artist Dame Darcy signs copies of her new book Gasoline. There will also be a Dame Darcy art exhibit and both performers will play live with their respective projects.

Unfortunately, I have an all-work, no-play weekend ahead of me, so I cannot attend. If you're free, I suggest that you go. I think I will be listening to the live broadcast on KXLU.

Free Esha

Esha Momeni is a graduate student in CSUN's mass comm department (where I just finished my MA) and has been interviewing women in Iran for thesis. Last week, she was arrested.

Dr. Melissa Wall, Momeni's thesis chair (also, my former thesis chair), is blogging about the situation on her site. Per Dr. Wall's site, there is a petition for her release, as well as an Amnesty International writing campaign. Also, there is a Free Esha blog over here.

This is a very sad and scary situation. Please take the time to show some support.

My Interview with Charlie Kaufman

Lots of things to report, not enough time, so let's start with the Charlie Kaufman story.

For a few years now, I've been writing primarily about music, not because it's my only interest, but because I seem to have some aptitude in that area. This was my first real foray into covering film, outside of a few music-related projects I covered in the past, so just having the chance to do this story was extremely exciting. On top of that, I'm quite fond of Charlie Kaufman's writing and really appreciate that his work requires the viewer to become intellectually and/or emotionally involved in the film and that no one interpretation of the story is correct.

As for Synecdoche, New York, my opinion is quite the opposite of Rex Reed's. The first paragraph in the Weekly article is derived from my own experience in watching the film and I have to say that I appreciated feeling so awkward in a theater.  It doesn't happen very often. I still haven't recovered from a bout of hypochondria suffered after watching Synecdoche (the screening was at the beginning of the month, so it's been a while), but it's worth it.

Mon Dieu, I Should Have Taken French

When you grow up in Los Angeles, as I did, taking Spanish is strongly recommended, and by "strongly recommended" I mean practically forced upon you. It's practical, they say. Everybody speaks it our here, they say.

I took Spanish. I can read it. If I'm paying attention, I can understand it. If I didn't fear sounding like Peggy Hill, I might even be able to speak it. But the truth is that, in my writing, I've never needed to know Spanish.

On the other hand, as someone who typically covers music, music gear and subculture sort of stuff, it would be helpful if I knew German, Japanese or French. It's unlikely that I would ever have to conduct an interview in a language other than English, but it would help with research.

Right now, I'm researching a story where I have come up with tons of information-- en francais. I never took French. All I know of the language is what I remember Miss Piggy screaming on The Muppet Show. Not good.

I'm aware of the website translating programs out there, but in my experience, none has ever translated a page to read like anything resembling English.  Roo, if you're reading this, I'm probably going to hit you up to help me make sense of some stuff.

The Adventures of Karl and Liesel

Things were looking pretty grim on Friday, too much work and not enough time. By Sunday, though, I got enough of it done to feel like something had been accomplished and so I headed down to the South Bay to hang out with Carlos.

We headed to Alpine Village for Oktoberfest, where we left our proper names behind and rechristened ourselves Karl and Liesel. This being a Sunday, the crowd was more family-oriented than what we had heard about the annual month-long celebration. However, by family-oriented, I mean that kids were running around with balloon swords as their parents chugged bier from mega-sized steins. We were disappointed to learn that biersteifel's were $50+ and sold out. 

An oom-pah band played throughout the day, encouraging the crowd of roughly 2000 people to scream "Zicke zacke zicke, hoi hoi hoi" and count "eins, zwei, drei" before chug a lugging their way through another 32 ouncer.  We tried the house brew, made by Angel City Brewery, and it was mild in flavor with no aftertaste.  Great stuff.

After we drank, we toured the Alpine Village shops, which have amazing lederhosen, if you have $300 to spare.  I picked up an Edith Piaf CD for my mom (yeah, I know she's French, but she was really popular in Germany) as she can't find the one she had and we saw La Vie en Rose last night.

Then I suggested that we head over to the closet-sized Aardvark outpost on Artesia Blvd., where we just so happened to find our costumes. I'm not going to give away Carlos, I mean Karl's ensemble, as it's too funny to unveil before Halloween. Since nobody except my otaku friends will have any idea what I am, here's a link for you. Here's her bio.

For the past two years, I have had to finish stories on Halloween and so I didn't even bother with costumes. That was really freakin' depressing as Halloween is the best day of the year. So nothing, I mean nothing, is keeping me from going out in my bad ass Halloween cosplay this year.

Today's Lesson

My former thesis advisor (who I should add is an amazing professor) invited me to speak to her class today about freelance writing, music writing, etc.  While I have spoken to classes a few times before, I always find it a strange, exciting experience.  I don't consider myself to be all-knowing, but in two years of actively pursuing freelance employment, I've gained a lot of practical knowledge that I thought might benefit college journalism students, many of whom, if they choose to pursue a career in the field, will end up working freelance.  I'll post some of the ideas from the lecture/dialogue here over the course of a few posts, just in case you're interested.

I told the class that I have a day job.  I don't even tell most of my friends that I have a non-journo job, mostly because there's a sense of embarrassment about the whole thing, like I'm not a real writer because 100% of my income is not based on my writing.

I told the class because I thought they should absolutely no illusions about the freelance life.  It's not easy.  Yes, I have a day job.  If the economy weren't so scary and if I didn't have a mountain of student debt (which they, too, will most likely have to pay back soon), then I wouldn't need the day job as most of my income comes from freelancing.  But that's not the reality of living in Los Angeles in 2008. I fortunately, have a part-time job with flexible hours and bosses who know and understand what I do.  That makes it a lot easier than my last pre-journalism job, which was completely inflexible and chock full of responsibility.

The problem with day jobs isn't necessarily the lack of time (although that is a dilemma, one I solved by not sleeping), it's the number it does on your self-esteem.  Writers, artists, musicians, actors, these are fields where no one takes you seriously unless you're rich and famous.  Hell, even people in my own family don't take my writing seriously.  I'll admit, I was hurt by people's reactions at first, then I thought about it.  Teachers take on second jobs all the time, particularly during the summer months, but they're still teachers.  Does anybody talk about how so-and-so is working as a bartender because he/she can't cut it as a teacher?

My point being, we're writers first.  That's our job.  Anything we do on the side is just that, a side gig to help supplement our incomes.  There's no shame in that.

Ash Tuesday

I live about four miles downhill from the Sesnon fire, which I guess isn't that far, but since it's four miles that include a freeway, several main streets and the other trappings of urban living that work as a protection against wild fires.

A lot of people we know, those who live above the 118 (the dividing line between Northridge and Porter Ranch) have been evacuated.  I dropped a line earlier to a dear friend of mine.  Hopefully, she's okay.

Outside, ash is falling from the sky like snow flakes.  The smell is potent, like everyone in the San Fernando Valley decided to light their fireplaces at once.  The air isn't fit for breathing, it's thick, hot and sooty.  And the wind, which has died down from yesterday (when there were ten power outages throughout the day on my block alone), is still fierce enough to whip ash and debris into unprotected eyes.

Addendum:

Right after I posted this, I realized that I had no soda in the house and then, in my infinite wisdom, decided that it would be best if I walked to 7-11.  That plan lasted for less than half-a-block.  It's really hard to breathe outside.  After five steps, my head began to throb and my throat felt tight and sore. Despite wearing sunglasses, my eyes watered profusely.  I came back and grabbed the car.  Nobody is walking today except for our mailman, who is wearing a mask (although I doubt that helps much).  The 7-11 parking lot was filled with cars, all covered with soot, and everyone in line was also covered in soot.

A Congratulatory Note

My friend Jeaux, who I recently mentioned has a comic featured in the new issue of Giant Robot, will be participating the Art+Action= Obama '08 show in New York City.  He will be showing off his Obama KISS doll. If you're going to the event, make sure to look for him.

Comic Books and Politics

Check out my story about Presidential Material and the corresponding party at Golden Apple on Melrose.

Neil Gaiman and More

It was one of the most exciting things I've had the opportunity to do as a journalist, I got to interview Neil Gaiman.  Monday night, he read half of Chapter 7 of The Graveyard Book (it's a really, really long chapter), showed a preview of the new Coraline film and read the poem he wrote for Tori Amos, Blueberry Girl.  I met with him a half-hour before the reading, stayed for the entire presentation and then came home to start transcribing and writing.  The hardest part was editing the transcript to fit into the word count.

The story ran in the LA Weekly online yesterday.

What was amazing was the response from my friends within minutes of posting the link on MySpace.  Apparently, we all read The Sandman comics in our teens.

In other comic related news, I picked up a copy of the latest issue of Giant Robot, which features a Box Assassin Hitman comic strip from Jeaux Janovsky.  Jeaux is an old friend of mine, in fact he might have been the person who turned me onto The Sandman back in the early 1990s, and we have collaborated on projects in the past (maybe the future too?).  Check out his work.

Detour

I had a blast at Detour on Saturday. You can read all about it on LA Weekly's blog.

I'm still trying to wrap my head around the concept of Silent Disco.

Just as an end note, traffic was abysmal on Saturday with two football games, one baseball game, a Hillary Clinton appearance, one music festival and one Neil Diamond concert. I'm convinced that all of Diamond's fans live out past Topanga Blvd., as the 101 was gridlocked from Downtown onward. We had no relief until we were on the northbound 405.