I don't have much time for an entry because I have a lot of work to do for the radio show, but I wanted to say I just finished interviewing Gary Braunbeck for Sunday's broadcast.

This is going to ROCK.

More later.

The inaugural broadcast of Grave Thoughts Radio is now online for your listening pleasure. It's even about twelve hours early. If only I could get everthing completed in such a timely fashion.

Listen Here...

I hope you enjoy it and I look forward to hearing your comments and questions. I'm in the process of lining up some great guests for the coming weeks, so keep listening. A new broadcast will be available online every Sunday.

Last night was spent responding to email.

The response to my announcement regarding the official start of Grave Thoughts Radio has been phenomenal. In the last twenty four hours I have received inquiries from writers, publishers and independent filmmakers, all interested in being a part of the program. I'm grateful for the interest, and will do my very best to make sure the show is worthy of the enthusiastic support it has gotten from the horror community.

It will take a couple days to block out a programming schedule, but I can say that the potential guests should provide for some very entertaining and fascinating radio. To say I'm pretty psyched about this is an understatement.

For now, the rest of the morning will involve housework and laundry followed by an early afternoon appointment. After, maybe I'll catch a movie, a tossup between Dark Water or The Devil's Rejects. Then, it's back home and putting the finishing touches on Sunday's broadcast. I'm so glad to be doing this pre-recorded. I can't imagine having to do an hour live each week.

GRAVE THOUGHTS RADIO will begin broadcasting on the internet at 7PM EST on July 31, 2005. A one hour show dedicated to examination of the darker side of literature and pop culture, Grave Thoughts will include news and opinion relevant to horror in art, literature and entertainment, interviews, readings, music and more.

The featured guest for the inaugural broadcast is Steve Vernon, author of A Fine Sacrifice, Long Horn, Big Shaggy, and over fifty short stories.

Grave Thoughts Radio is dedicated to providing writers, filmmakers, artists and musicians whose work is focused on the dark and horrific a platform to promote their work. Those interested in being featured on the program should send their inquiries to gregoryk64@gravethoughts.com.

In addition to the internet broadcast, Grave Thoughts will also be carried on WSLR LPFM 96.5 in Sarasota, FL.

GRAVE THOUGHTS - Radio to Unleash the Beast Within
http://www.gravethoughts.com

Uh, okay. How they came up with this from just six questions I'm not sure, but... whatever.

You're Lolita!

by Vladimir Nabokov

Considered by most to be depraved and immoral, you are obsessed with
sex. What really tantalizes you is that which deviates from societal standards in every
way, though you admit that this probably isn't the best and you're not sure what causes
this desire. Nonetheless, you've done some pretty nefarious things in your life, and
probably gotten caught for them. The names have been changed, but the problems are real.
Please stay away from children.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

... there's a storm front coming.

As Dennis begins to churn his way into the Gulf, I think I've figured out what I find most annoying about hurricane season.

It's not the preparation (Candles? Check. Bottled water? Check. Batteries? Check. Fifteen pounds of Spam, brown mustard, and a couple loaves of bread? Check.). It's not having to go to half a dozen gas stations before you find one that's not out of fuel. It's not living with the possibility that you might end up playing a game of hide and seek with your roof.

It's dealing with all the idiots who are running around panicking like Christ has started his comeback tour, he's coming to visit, and they forgot to clean the house.

Since they can't give any real news about the storm until it actually comes close to making landfall, the media bombards us with prophecies of doom and destruction that could occur if the storm should happen to pass close to where you live. Everyone you meet feels compelled to make small talk about the hurricane... "Are you all boarded up? Are you evacuating? I hope this one misses us..."

I've had enough. This hurricane season I'm boycotting the Weather Channel along with any and all local news. I refuse to participate in any useless small talk about the storm unless there's anything to discuss beyond speculation. My only source of information will be the NOAA website until it looks like my area is in real danger. And if it's not, I look forward to laying back and catching up on my reading while the rain beats a soothing tattoo on the roof and the wind rattles the palm trees.

So, since this is early July and the storms are sure to continue, I've taken the liberty of naming the next few tropical depressions in advance:

E - Enough, already!!!
F - Fuck this! I'm moving to Minnesota.
G - God, what have we done to deserve this?
H - How about giving us a break until we can fix the shit you destroyed last year?!?!?

As for progress on Steps, I wrote 433 words when I got home from work. It wasn't going very smoothly, so I decided to take a break and head out to my first AA meeting in about four months for a little research. It seemed to help, as the words were taking shape in my mind on the drive home, and now that I've got a good coffee buzz going I'm ready to get in a couple hours of solid writing.

With regard to my 41st birthday last Friday, probably the less that is said, the better.

Not because I find the subject uncomfortable as a measure of my mortality. I don't mind birthdays, and actually look forward to them a bit. No, the reason I don't have much to say is because it passed quietly and uneventfully with me sitting alone on the couch reading the first four chapters of Steps, preparing to get back to work. I've written nary a word on the book in weeks, and it was a bit strange to revisit what I've written so far. Strange, yet exhilarating. Without a doubt the finished draft will need some polishing, but as a whole I'm very happy with it so far.

Monday was probably the closest thing I had to a birthday celebration. Cheryl and I spent the morning at the Ringling Museum of Art in Sarasota. She had never been, although I go there quite frequently. We toured Ca D'Zan (the Ringlings' INCREDIBLE winter home built in the mid-twenties), then took a walk through the circus museum. After that we intended to grab some lunch at the cafe on the grounds before touring the art museum, but it turned out the cafe was closed for remodeling. Too hungry to consider walking around for another two to three hours, we opted to head down the road to Chili's for lunch, agreeing to ogle the artwork on another day.

Tuesday was spent puttering around the house, going to a doctor's appointment, and meeting a friend for a late afternoon showing of Land of the Dead. Although not my favorite Romero zombie movie (that spot belongs to Day of the Dead) I apparently enjoyed it far more than others who have commented on the film in their blogs or in online forums.

The biggest complaint about this movie seems to be that, in a world where traditional government institutions have crumbled, why do the characters place such importance on U. S. greenbacks that are essentially worthless? I think I can answer that one. LOTD is essentially a story of a world in denial. The feudal government system of Fiddler's Green was established by those who had wealth and privilege prior to the dead waking up and generally fucking up the whole system. Having been accustomed to being in charge, the ruling class protected themselves with the only power they ever knew: the power of money. They locked themselves away in their ivory tower, ignoring the world going to hell outside and supplying the proles outside with food, diversion and protection in exchange for bringing in goods from the outside. The underclass accepts this arrangement because, well, being a well fed wage slave is better than being a dead dissenter. If the ruling class says that nothing has changed, that dead presidents are the coin of the realm and they have the guns and muscle to back it up, who's going to argue? Unfortunately, those who believe in maintaining the status quo regardless of the facts always tend to vastly outnumber those who face reality and attempt to adapt.

Even after reality comes to Fiddler's Green and bites the ruling class in the ass (and the arm, the leg, the throat, the intestines, etc.), our hero Riley probably makes the biggest mistake of all by denying the murderous nature of the walking dead. As his crew is readying to blow away the zombies as they cross the bridge, Riley stops them, saying "they're just looking for someplace to go, just like us." Well, yeah. And wherever that someplace is, they will ATTACK and EAT any living person in the vicinity! Just because the undead are starting to show signs of intelligence and reason doesn't mean that they will view humanity as anything more than a Happy Meal. They'll probably just become more efficient at obtaining their lunch.

On a side note, I got a good chuckle from the movie because the condo complex I live in is called Fiddler's Green. The only difference is the walking dead don't start showing up here until about November, then head back up north in April or May at the latest.

And now I'm off to have a sandwich and then do something writerly. Like maybe... write.

No entry yesterday, as I was feeling pretty rotten after my trip to the dentist. I spent close to three hours in the chair with my mouth jammed open while Dr. De Sade and his assistant the Mistress of Pain prepped my teeth for a crown, a partial inlay, and to replace a broken cap on one of my front teeth. I was pumped so full of novocaine the right side of my face was totally dead and I couldn't feel my nose. I couldn't even smoke a cigarette when I got done because my lips wouldn't even move enough to hold the filter.

Anyway, when I got home I promptly took two extra strength Tylenol and crashed on the couch. When I woke up, the numbness was gone, replaced by a soreness that felt like my jaws had been pried open by a crowbar.

I didn't feel up to writing. Hell, I couldn't even concentrate enough to read the first issue of Subterranean which had just arrived in the mail. So, I settled down and watched a little Asian import called Japanese Hell, aka Jigoku. This is one of those movies that falls squarely into the "so bad it's good" category. I can't do it justice here. Part Dante's Inferno, part low budget Kabuki theater as directed jointly by Ken Russell and Lloyd Kaufman. Hell looks like the styrofoam and canvas covered soundstages that served as the strange, new worlds on classic Star Trek. The demon makeups look like they came from the same source - I wouldn't have been surprised to see the Gorn or maybe a Mugatu running around there somewhere. But that's just the beginning. Plastic dime store cockroaches, rubber rats skittering across the floor with the help of clearly visible strings, naked young women, child molesters, a re-creation of the Sarin gas attack on the Japanese subway from a few years ago... this movie has it all.

It's certainly one of the oddest, cheapest, worst movies I've ever actually enjoyed. It has to be seen to be believed.

And now, I think I'll take a couple more Tylenol and retire for the evening. My jaw is still a bit sore.

I have to admit to being amused by steve_vernon's decription of the hellish summer they are expreiencing in Nova Scotia. Hot? Sounds more like a mild spring to me.

Try this, Steve. The forecast for the rest of the week down here in SW Florida (aka Beelzebub's Sauna) is 88 degrees Farenheit with scattered thunderstorms. Oh yeah, and humidity around 82%. If you want to play golf, you have to tee off in the dark before sunrise lest you die of heat exhaustion before you finish the first nine holes. And there's no end in sight until October, unless we are blessed by a short respite of cool air that comes right after a hurricane blows through and destroys the house.

But I guess that's what I get for choosing to live in a fucking swamp.

After a few telephone calls to India or Pakistan or wherever it is they route tech support phone calls these days, my domain registry problems are solved and the Grave Thoughts website is now back online as well as my mail server. To anyone who may have tried to send mail to me at gregoryk64@gravethoughts.com and got it bounced back, please try again and accept my apologies.

The last few evenings have been spent updating the website. I have added a section of photos I've taken while strolling through various cemeteries in the area. Indian Springs Cemetery is completely uploaded, and I'll be adding more over the weekend. To view the photos, click here. I hope you enjoy them. Let me know what you think.

It seems the next few weeks are defined by swiftly approaching events. The first broadcast of Grave Thoughts Radio is coming at the beginning of August, and I need to get some interviews and programming squared away. My birthday is exactly one week away. A much needed road trip to Atlanta for Dragon*Con is only a little over two months away, on Labor Day weekend.

Tick-tock, tick-tock. Tempus fugit. And, for the most part, Steps remains pretty much in the same shape it was about two months ago.

Sometimes I feel so damned lazy.

Let's see... what has been happening?

Came To Believe (formerly Shotglass Gods) is about as finished as it's going to get at this point, so I need to do a final proofread before I submit it for THOU SHALT NOT, an upcoming anthology from Dark Cloud Press. It's been a long while since I've submitted anything for publication. It feels pretty damned good.

Things are progressing nicely on Grave Thoughts Radio. I've finally joined the new millennium and upgraded to a DSL internet connection and changed my web hosting service. This means that not only will the show be carried on WSLR, I will be providing an internet broadcast my website. I'll begin broadcasting the first week of August on the net. In the meantime, stop by the site and check it out. Not all of the links are live yet, but I'm getting there. While you're at it, pick up a t-shirt.

With all of this website and radio activity, Steps has been ignored but not forgotten. I will say no more about it until I actually start writing the damned thing again.

The following excerpt from greygirlbeast, with regard to her X1st birthday, really hit home for me.

I have begun to wonder when I'm going to start feeling my age. Does that actually happen? Do you wake up one morning and feel very much older? I don't want it to happen, mind you, but I do wonder. I see all these people in their frelling twenties acting ten years older than me. And there's a fear to this. I do not want to be unsightly, one of those women who doesn't know that's she's too old to wear a mini-skirt (that was just an example, as I would not, under normal circumstances, wear a mini-skirt), as I do not wish to embarrass myself unknowingly any more than is absolutely necessary.

Considering that my own X1st birthday is only a little over a month away, it's like she stole the thoughts right out of my head. Well, not the mini-skirt part, but MAN can I relate.

So, Happy Birthday CRK. May you have many more and know that you are not alone in your thoughts.

I'm still here. It's difficult to keep up with journal entries when there is so little of interest that I feel like recording here.

Sunday night I attended a benefit concert for WSLR at the Cock and Bull Pub in Sarasota. A very laid back, outdoor affair for which I was unfortunately overdressed - black jeans, Docs, and a black suede longsleeve shirt, a silver pentagram on a short chain worn high around the buttoned collar. I was told by a few people I looked sharp, but it was a tad warm. I don't think I'll ever get the hang of dressing for southwest Florida summers.

The bands were far more enjoyable than that folk music abortion from a couple weeks ago, with a performance by a few members of Stone Soup being particularly enjoyable. Their music was hard to categorize; kind of a funky, bluesy jam quality, but lively enough to keep the heart pumping. I'll have to track them down and hear the whole band play one evening.

I also found out that the Cock and Bull caters quite a bit to the pagan community, featuring a "Witches' Night Out" every other Friday and holding special events around the Sabbats. Sounds like something I'll definitely check out. It's not that far to drive, after all.

Anyway, I found out there's still no set date for WSLR to begin broadcasting, only sometime this summer. So, I've decided to take matters into my own hands and have been shopping around for a web host that will allow me enough (affordable) web space to do internet broadcasts. I'd intended to do this anyway, but I've decided to make it a priority now. I want to begin broadcasting in early July, and the web may be the only way to do it.

There's been very little writing happening. Lots of thinking and staring at the computer screen intending to write, but very few words. Later today I'll start polishing Shotglass Gods, hopefully finding a more suitable title while I'm working the bugs out. Steps remains stuck. Pisses me off.

Not too much else is happening. Looking forward to treating Cheryl to a belated birthday dinner at Zydeco Grill later tonight. But until then, I've got plenty of mundane work around the house to keep me occupied this morning.

Happy Friday the 13th!

Shotglass Gods is fini, although I'm sure the title will be changed before I start the editing process. I never really liked it in the first place, but I have a peculiar habit of not being able to write a story unless I have a title in mind before I start. Anyway, whatever it's called it came in at a little over 6,000 words and will now be put away for about a week before I read it over again and decide what needs fixing.

This also means it's time to get back to Steps. I find that Mandy and Tom have been creeping into my thoughts over the last few days, so I guess I'm ready to dive back in. But it will have to wait for tomorrow night, as all day I've been feeling tense, angry and somewhat depressed. Tonight I lack the energy or the temperament to do little more than play with the ferrets for a while then settle back on the couch to start reading Gary Braunbeck's In Silent Graves.

Thanks to greygirlbeast for helping to propagate the following blog virus...
1) Total number of films I own on DVD/video: Not sure, but I'd guess at least 500 DVD titles. I got rid of most of my VHS a long time ago.

2) The last film I bought: Rabid and the Criterion edition of Videodrome. Okay, so I'm a Cronenberg freak.

3) The last film I watched: I Bury The Living

4) Five films that I watch a lot or that mean a lot to me:

The Exorcist
Ghost World
Day of the Dead
Psycho
Full Metal Jacket

5) Tag 5 people and have them put this in their journal: Not gonna do it. Let the infection spread of it's own accord.

As of last night, I'm about 2,200 words into Shotglass Gods. If I can keep up the pace, I should have it finished by the middle of the week. Working on a short was one of the best things I could have done. The words have been flowing fast and clean, and it feels good to actually come close to completion is such a short period of time. Like I said before, I think I was seriously in need of some instant gratification.

After writing, last night was movie night. Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera. Where this musical is concerned, I've found there are only two types of people: those who love it and those who loathe it. I am one of the former. I saw the show in Chicago and was blown away. The music, the staging, everything about the production was incredible.

For the most part, I really liked the film version. Liked it enough to reconsider my opinion of Joel Schumacher as a talentless goat fucker who ruined the Batman movie franchise. Phantom is extremely faithful to the stage version, the cast, notably Emmy Rossum as Christine and Minnie Driver as La Carlotta, Bitch Diva from Hell, is more than equal to the challenges presented by the complex score, and the production design is full to the brim of dark, gothedy goodness. But there is one serious misstep. An error so grave that it casts a pall over all that is good with this film and diminishes the power of the story.

They made the Phantom physically... sexy.

I realize that this version of Phantom is intended to be a gothic romance, not a horror story. There's nothing wrong with that. But by making the Phantom more physically appealing, nay, attractive, is to diminish the power of his music and his genius. Even with the mask, his countenance must strike horror into all who glimpse him in the shadows. His deformity should be as terrible as his music is beautiful.

But here, we have Gerard Butler preening and skulking about like he just stepped off the cover of a romance novel, complete to wearing his shirt unbuttoned to his stomach at one point in the film, the better to show off those chiseled, bronzed pecs. When he appears at the masquerade ball, does the Phantom wear the billowing scarlet robes and full skull mask of the Red Death as he does in the stage version (which was copied almost identically from the Lon Chaney silent film)? No. He wears what appears to be a tight fitting toreador's costume, the better to show off his well toned muscles and perfect buttocks. Bah!

Think about it. This guy has lived for years in the darkness and shadows of the catacombs beneath the Paris Opera House. He probably hasn't seen the sun in at least three decades. He should be pale as parchment, not glowing like he just walked out of a tanning salon! He would not be all buff and toned!


It's also clear that the Phantom, for all his warped genius and delusions of grandeur, has a serious self esteem problem. He would not be skulking about and making public appearances in fashions that look like they were chosen by Carson on "Queer Eye For The Straight Guy". The Phantom is about cloaks and shadows, not GQ fucking magazine!

And then there is the matter of his face. When unmasked, this Phantom looks, well, a bit melted, but hardly horrible. In fact, one of the things I was looking forward to was a screen quality rendition of the makeup design from the stage production. Big disappointment. Instead of the sallow skin, rheumy eye, exposed bone and distended lips I was hoping for, I got what looked like a cross between a first degree burn and acne scars.

The stage production got it right. The movie fucked up and watered it down. Why? I think I know.

I think the filmmakers figured that the audience was too shallow to accept the fact that Christine could feel love and compassion for the Phantom based on his soul and talent, regardless of his appearance. I think they believed the audience would not accept Christine having passionate feelings for a Phantom who was not a hunk. I mean, how could this girl love a man who is gaunt, thin, and horrible to the eye? Nobody's going to buy that she could be attracted to him just for what's inside, right? We gotta make him a hottie or the audience won't accept it!

Excuse me while I vomit...

But then again, I recall that Joel Schumacher's concept of Batman involved putting nipples on the batsuit and zooming in on an extreme closeup of Val Kilmer's latex clad ass.

I suppose Phantom could have been a lot worse.

Steps continues to run in place, making no forward progress.

I haven't done any serious, sitmyassdownandwritenomatterwhat kind of work on the book in a little over a month. For a while this lack of work ethic was beginning to scare the hell out of me. Maybe I'm not cut out to do this. Maybe I don't have the intestinal fortitude and discipline that it takes to write a novel. Perhaps I'll procrastinate for so long I'll become complacent and apathetic about finishing the book.

But now I don't see my taking a break from Steps as a bad thing. As I've no doubt said before, this is a very difficult book to write. It has forced me to examine issues and emotions of a very personal nature, but at the time I conceived of the story I was too conflicted in my own mind to be able to convey them clearly to the reader. A little time away has helped me to step away and clear my head.

I know too that I shouldn't be questioning my abilities. For one thing, I'm not the only writer out there who has taken a break from a project and felt that they were wasting time if they weren't writing. And I know I can finish a novel because I've already done it once. Okay, it was an abysmally bad novel that I ended up destroying, but at least I made it to "THE END". No reason I can't do it again this time, only much better.

And of course other things have demanded my attention. There's the job that pays the bills, for one thing. The upcoming radio show has taken almost all of my free time for the last two weeks, but the demo is finally recorded and I'll be working on putting it all together by the end of the week. The recording and mixing software has taken a lot of time to learn, but things are sounding very good and I'm sure I'll get faster at putting the show together as I gain more experience.

Then this afternoon I started on some short fiction. Tentatively titled Shotglass Gods, I'm hoping to have it ready in a couple weeks for submission to an upcoming anthology. Right now the idea of writing a short is very appealing. Write it, edit it, polish it up and send it off, all within a few weeks. In fact, it's probably about as close to instant gratification as I'm going to get with anything in the near future.

And then, it will be back to Steps. Mandy and Tom are waiting, patiently.

What do you get when you mix insomnia, boredom, photo editing software and an ornery ferret?

This...



Hey, it's better than a demonic pig...

Based on the True Story...

... of how a Long Island couple, one slightly sleazy defense attorney, the tabloid press and a journalist known mostly for writing television documentaries turned a mass murder, alleged supernatural happenings, and the ultimate real estate nightmare into a story that would soon become an icon in modern American pop culture.

And so this afternoon I decided to revisit 112 Ocean Avenue (address changed to 412 in the new movie) and see The Amityville Horror. I found it nowhere near as bad as other aficionados of horror films had led me to believe, but I did make a few interesting observations.

First, other than the familiar haunted house with its spooky ocular windows, this movie has little in common with it's source material. I can only make comparison to the 1979 version with Margot Kidder and Mr. Barbra Streisand, since it's been almost thirty years since I read the Jay Anson book (my old book club edition hardcover still has a place on my bookshelf, however, so maybe I should dust it off for another read). The supernatural occurences in the new film are quite over the top with gory ghosts and sudden shocks, making the original seem that much more grounded in reality. I guess this isn't really a complaint, because the new Amityville performs quite well as a jump out and say BOO! spook house flick, but considering this is supposedly a true story I don't think a little restraint would have been out of order.

The most noticeable difference between the two films is in the underlying themes. The stress of achieving the American Dream regardless of the financial or emotional cost and the horror of child and spousal abuse are evident in both films, but where they part ways is in their approach to the nature of good and evil. If you want to avoid any spoilers, read no further.

In the original movie, the evil of the house is very much diabolical in origin. The history of the house includes devil worship, black masses and ritual human sacrifice, providing an explanation for the evil forces that terrify the Lutzes. Kathy Lutz is portrayed as a devout Catholic (hell, her sister is a nun) who turns almost immediately to her parish priest for help. In fact, the priest is almost as important a character as the Lutzes. Jody, the youngest daughter's imaginary friend, is a demon, glimpsed briefly as a Satanic pig with glowing eyes. Toward the end of the movie, George and Kathy place their full faith in God, even attempting an exorcism before finally fleeing the house.

The remake dispenses with any references to faith and God almost entirely. The only indication that Kathy Lutz has any religious beliefs at all is the small gold cross she wears around her neck. The hauntings are attributed to the restless ghosts of the murdered DeFeo family, and it is established early on that Jody is the ghost of Jody DeFeo, the youngest daughter killed by her brother. This was a huge mistake on the part of the film makers by the way. First, none of the DeFeo children were named Jody. I expect some dramatic license in the telling of allegedly true stories, but fucking around with the facts regarding an innocent, murdered child is a bit much. Second, I found it much more effective for Jody to remain invisible until the one short glimpse towards the end in the original film. And I was really looking forward to seeing a huge, snorting, drooling, CGI rendered demonic porker with flaming eyes and deadly tusks.

When we finally get to the priest, he is portrayed as an impotent coward, driven from the house by a cloud of flies and demonic voices when he attempts a blessing. One thing worth noting - it is just over an hour into the movie before we see any flies. A freaking HOUR. What kind of Amityville movie is this?

It is when we learn the true nature of the evil terrorizing the Lutzes that the film does a complete about face from his predecessor. No more gates to hell brought on by a history of Satan worship and witchcraft. The secret room in this house was a dungeon where, in the 17th century, a missionary tortured and slaughtered Native Americans in an effort to coerce them into accepting Christianity as the true religion. Not only is the church powerless against the evil forces of the house, it turns out that an insane man of God is responsible for them. Perhaps this is just a sign of change in society's theological belief system, or an (un)intentional attempt by the filmmakers to make a jab at the danger posed by overzealous Christian fundamentalists, but I thought it was a fascinating difference between the two movies.

Maybe I'm thinking too much. It was a better than average haunted house movie, and Melissa George is far hotter than Margot Kidder was even 25 years ago. Of course, they are both far more attractive than the real Kathy Lutz ever was.