Book Tour: The Ones That Stare

Greetings, everyone. And now... the end is here... No, seriously, though. Today, this very blog post (my first in quite a while) marks the end of the digital book tour for my latest thriller novel The Ones That Stare. If you've been following along this whole time, then I thank you wholeheartedly. I hope you learned something about me or the book on the way, and look forward to your support. You know, artists can't produce these things without your support. So, during this trying time of Covid-19, with many of us staying at home, entertained by copious amounts of books, film and TV, please remember that all of that great stuff you consumed, and that kept you from going completely insane is somebody's job to put together. I know, it seems like a lot to ask you to spend money on entertainment when the general idea is that artists and entertainers should do their job for free, but please buy a copy of things instead of pirating them. The book only costs six dollars in ebook form, less than 20 for a paperback. You'd be helping to create more, even better entertainment.

Now, for those who know nothing about the book, well, here is a link to it on Amazon: http://mybook.to/TheOnesThatStare. You can read the book blurb there. But basically, if you like to read thrillers, or if you enjoy the films of Alfred Hitchcock, then you might like my novel. I have compared The Ones That Stare to such novels as The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins, The Woman in the Window by AJ Finn, The Woman in Cabin 10 by Ruth Ware and Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. It grabs you with a twist at the very beginning of the book, and never let's go after that. You follow Darien Coby, an average guy married to a fantastic woman. But now his wife is GONE, and he's going crazy just trying to figure out what happened to his love. He knows but one thing: one of his neighbors knows what happened, but who? And why haven't they said something to him about it? Now, he must go the extra mile to figure out who knows the truth about the situation. This is the 2020 thriller that you simply can't miss!

Still not sure if you should spend your hard-earned money on an author you've never read before? Then follow me farther down the rabbit hole as I introduce you to one of the main characters in a brief excerpt below. You can meet Bernedette below.

But before that, as for what is next for me, I have another book coming out later this summer entitled blEND (that's the word blend; yes, the capitalization is part of the title). It is a horror novel in a similar vein to Jordan Peele's Get Out. I am currently looking for reviewers with an open mind, who aren't offended by reading about racial and social issues. I also am still planning another season of The Writer and Extraordinary for later this year. And I hope to get the novel blind out as well, come this December. And finally, I look forward to releasing my first full-fledged romance sometime next year, entitled Lips Like Strawberries. Look for that, hopefully, next February!

Well, this tour has been very short but sweet. Whenever I embark on a book tour, I always go into it with as little expectations as possible. No matter how much planning and communication you do with others on the internet, you still never know what you're going to get. I hope that you all enjoyed the little bits of insight here and there and aren't afraid to comment below or leave a review of my book on Amazon, Goodreads or another social media site. I look forward to it all. Thank you for coming today, and I'll see you again soon!

An Excerpt from The Ones That Stare

The clock read 7:35, yet Darien hadn’t returned home. He used to have long days that started in the earliest of dawns and stretched beyond dusks. Lately, he hadn’t had such days. Lately, he had busied himself with getting home to his wife. Now, with her gone, he hadn’t need for punctuality.

Plus, he had other business to attend to for the night. Still, his absence on the street made Bernedette curious.
“Hm? Why isn’t he home yet?” she asked herself as she stopped in front of his house and stood on the sidewalk. She stared through his front window. Favorite program? Not tonight. Tonight: static.
“Come on,” she bade her dogs. They crossed to her house and slipped through the freshly locksmith-ed front door just as a car rolled onto the street.
Kaduunk! A gallon of oily, dishwater-brown rainwater splashed from asphalt reservoir. Nearly hit a jogging Eli. He flinched at the beads of filth flung his way. The driver inside cringed, “Sorry! Sorry! Really sorry!”
Eli chuckled, shooed her and continued his jog—apology accepted.
The woman made a left into Darien’s driveway, parked, exited the car.
Meanwhile, Bernedette undid her dogs’ leashes and rubbed the giant Danes’ coats. Sarah sniffed and scratched at the front door, prompting Bernedette to ask, “What, honey? What’s wrong? We just came from outside. You need to go again? Huh? Does some little doggie need to go again?”
Woof! A no.
Bernedette pushed up erect, like an upright Buckingham soldier. Peeked out her living room window. Her eyes captured what her dogs’ noses already had. “Who is that knocking on Darien’s door?” she mumbled with sleuth’s intent.
It was Hannah, the woman she saw that night but hadn’t met. Her brows arched with recognition at the shape of the woman from behind. Bernedette had once thought her power of recognition a special gift. No matter how bundled-up someone was, or how they stood or walked, or what hair they had, she could recognize them. Face not required. “It’s that girl,” she breathed. Every young woman a girl to her. She let her tongue nip at her lip in salivatory anticipation. She had to know what happened. She had to know why she was there.
Ba-rooo! One of the dogs howled desire. Bernedette kept her gaze on the girl.
At Darien’s house, Hannah rang the doorbell, knocked twice and called, “Hello? Hello? Is anyone home?” No answer fated to come, she waited an over-polite five minutes before walking back toward her car.
“No! She’s leaving.” Bernedette’s voice vibrated against the pane. She hid half-eyed behind the curtains. “Hm? What should I do?”
Woof! One dog responded.
“You’re right. I should learn who she is.”
Woof!
“Alright, I’ll feed you first. Come on! Hurry, before she leaves!” Bernedette dashed to her kitchen and yanked open the fridge. She stopped to grab her heated forehead. Winded. She hadn’t jogged, let alone dashed in over a decade. Wet dog food, out. And into two bowls.
She crumpled the dog-food bag, threw it on the counter, and ran back to the front in time to see the car pull down the street.
The race on, she jetted out of her front door, locked it behind her, and glided to her car. In less than a minute she was in her car, gripping life into her steering wheel. She caught up with Hannah’s car. “How do they do it in the movies?” she asked herself. “Three cars behind. Yes, that’ll do. That’ll have to do. And what will you say to her once you stop? What will you say…?”
Bernedette hadn’t a proper plan. She hadn’t accounted for any scenario other than her succeeding. What if the girl didn’t stop someplace where she’d be able to speak with her? What if she went straight home? What if she caught on to someone tailing her and called the police? A thousand what-ifs—questions left for fate. She only knew she needed to speak to her.
The harder she thought, the fewer good ideas came. She’d have to make chasmic leaps: total stranger, to knowing about the girl’s association with Darien, to interrogating her about Sayen. Were she a social genius, she’d ably manage the transitions. Had she a brilliant light? Yes, once. It shone through from spirit to skin. However, a social genius? Never that. But she needed to know some things and the girl had the answers.
Ten minutes morphed into 20. Twenty into 28. Thirty-five… Forty-two. Each minute cost one strong beam of sun. Finally, it was a mariner’s-blue night. A murky dew spritzed each car. Lefts. Rights. More lefts. More rights. A never-ending drive. It welcomed doubt. Oh, she must know I’m following her, otherwise why the insane driving pattern? She must know. She must. No, you can’t back down from this. Press it, even if the situation becomes tense. What do you say? What do you say…?
More lefts. More rights. As they drove—one safely lagging behind the other—Bernedette let her mind wander to darker twists. Who drove like this, taking short roads and sudden burst-turns to get off main streets? Where was this mysterious girl leading her? Into a trap? A trap of what doing, of what kind? Who was this girl leading her farther down a rabbit hole she so willingly tumbled into?
And then the girl pulled into a parking lot. And Bernedette knew most of her questions would soon meet answers.
Hannah parked in front of a lingerie store and went inside to escape rain’s pattering. Look over her shoulder uncomfortably? Flee helplessly into the store? Feel her neck-hairs stand on end? Hannah did none of that. In all that driving, she hadn’t noticed her shadow.
Bernedette sat in her car for a full minute, waiting. Through storefront glass, she watched Hannah browse. “Come on, Bernedette. What the hell are you gonna say to start a conversation?” Nothing came. How do you politely coax someone into an interrogation? Maybe you couldn’t. “Oh, just do it already!” she commanded herself.
Out the car! Into the store. Darker inside than what it appeared from outside, the store had medium-dim mood lighting, mimicking lingerie-wearing conditions. Bernedette spotted Hannah perusing along the right wall, drifting toward the rear. The old woman then looked to the left to see the cashier ringing out another customer. The cashier welcomed Bernedette to shop the scant-fabric-ed wears.
With one scan of the store, the aging dog mom knew this store wasn’t for her.
They call this clothing? Wouldn’t even cover a toothpick, she thought, rubbing her hand over a thong. Years, decades even. It had been so long since she felt… She was the type of woman who knew she’d never love another man after her husband. She hadn’t the strength to start over, be so vulnerable with someone again. One was more than enough.
“Don’t lose focus, Bern. Keep your mind on task,” she instructed. Eyes up, she scoped the store. Hannah’s eyes focused solely on the wall racks in the purple and black-coated store. Bernedette saw opportunity. Little time for stealth. She bypassed the mid-store displays—aromatherapy and massage oils—and traipsed to the back. She feigned looking at the wall-hung bustiers and leather garter belts.
“Come on. Closer. Closer,” she willed Hannah, hoping to bump into her to break ice. Just a little...
Bump!
“Oh! I’m so sorry. I should’ve been paying closer attention,” Bernedette apologized.
Reciprocated smiles. Hannah slid around Bernedette, saying, “It’s OK. Aisles are pretty tight.”
“Ha!” Bernedette stepped back but kept eyes on Hannah. She made sure the girl could feel her gaze tickling her neck and behind her ear. Her best acting job in years. Bernedette waited for the girl to turn back toward her. Then, she squinted, saying, “You look familiar. I’m sorry, but have we met before?”
“Um… I don’t think so,” Hannah shook her head. She stopped flicking through clothes and stood dead-faced with Bernedette.
“Pretty sure I know you, or I’ve at least seen you somewhere before.”
“Well, I do some acting. Maybe you’ve seen one of my commercials? I was in a gum commercial a few years back. Oh, and I’m in a Prilosec commercial. I also do some stage—”
“No, that’s not it,” Bernedette said, her façades more convincing than Darien’s. “Wait, I know. I saw you at my neighbor’s house a while ago.”
“Your neighbor’s house?”
“Yes, 8495 Stillborn Street. You know it, right? Sure you do, you were there,” Bernedette led.
“Hmph,” Hannah hummed, neither offended nor defensive. Bernedette intrigued her.
“Yes, it wasn’t too long ago. I saw you dancing with him, through his front window.” Her smile evaporated and turned into an observant Colombo eye. She edged razor-close to creepy, witch-like.
Hannah grinned, replied, “So you like to spy on your neighbors?”
“Oh! Oh, no! No, no, no, no, no! I apologize if I made you feel intruded upon. I happened to be passing by at the time and saw you inside… in rather familiar clothes,” Bernedette backtracked.
“It was a joke.”
Bernedette chuckled, then added, “Bernedette, by the way.”
Hannah looked at the old woman’s outstretched hand. Shake it. Eh!
Changing her mind, she smiled and said, “Hannah.” Hannah believed Bernedette had a diary face. The kind of face that made you want to spill your secrets even when you hadn’t known her for any time. Beyond matronly, motherly kindness. She had a warmth about her that reminded of a roadside inn in a torrential storm. Her spirit a safe haven for wayward travelers caught in weather’s fury.
“Hannah, it’s nice meeting you. So, you spent some time with Darien? You know his wife, too?” Bernedette resumed faux-browsing.
“Darien? Hm? So that’s his name? I thought it started with an M. Anyway, no I never met her,” Hannah explained.
“You didn’t know his name?”
“Couldn’t quite remember. It was foggy.”
“Hm? No offense, but it seems like you would know the name of your date,” Bernedette led the witness. Come on, honey. Confirm it was a date.
“Date?”
“Sorry, it looked like a date, what with the dancing and all.”
“No. No, it definitely wasn’t a date. He… I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” Hannah said, resuming perusing.
“It’s fine. I guard secrets.” Hollow, ghostly words. For a brief second, Bernedette sounded guilty of something heinous. Like she already knew what happened to Darien’s wife. Like she needed to hide her own secrets. “Well, he hired me for a job. God, now that sounds sketch. He didn’t hire me for that kinda job. I’m not a woman of the night or a street vixen—”
“A hoe?”
Taken aback by the old woman’s blunt verbiage, Hannah pointed at her and nodded. Bernedette then asked, “Then what are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“An actress. Plain old actress. He hired me to act like his companion for a few hours. Didn’t wanna be alone.”
“Alone. Hm?”
“Said it was for some therapy. Looked a little depressed and I had sympathy for him, so I did it. Money helped, too.”
“What about his wife? What’d he say happened to her?”
“Not much. He simply said she was gone.”
“Gone?” Bernedette said with a smile and a lilt in her voice.
“Yeah. I got the feeling she was dead.”
“Dead?” The word saddened her into a new low. My god, Darien, what were you thinking? Three minutes of standing silence. Contemplation overtook her muscles. She ran through every scenario that could lead to Darien’s expressed status about his wife. She had suspected ill of Darien. This helped cement her feelings.
Bernedette stood in that catatonic state for so long that she didn’t hear Hannah’s calls to her. The girl finished shopping and departed with one purchase. When Bernedette looked up again, she spotted Hannah exiting into hard rain. “Wait.” She sprinted after her.
Hannah stopped in the thundering wetness, keeping dry beneath her umbrella. Her older counterpart had no covering. It didn’t matter. She needed only answers. She asked, “Those clothes, they weren’t yours, were they?”
“No. They were his wife’s. He wanted me to wear them.”
“Why?”
She held up her hands and did air quotes as she said, “‘To be more convincing’ – His words. I guess he wanted me to look like her. Sorta wanted me to act like her, too.”
“To look and act like her?” Bernedette mumbled to herself. It made no sense. None of it made sense. She’d think about it all the way home.
At home, she stood on her front stoop looking across to Darien’s house as she saw one light on in his bedroom. What had he done? What hadn’t she done?

To Be Continued In… 

The Ones That Stare 

Out now!

* * *

It’s Finally Here!!! #TheManOnTheRoof #TMOTR #BookBlogTour

It’s Finally Here!!! #TheManOnTheRoof #TMOTR #BookBlogTour 

It’s finally here, people. This Friday, June 22nd, my psychological mystery-thriller The Man On The Roof will release in ebook Kindle format on Amazon Kindle. It’s been in review for a few months now and, I’m not gonna lie, some people are loving it. I have been comparing it to Gone Girl or The Girl on the Train meets Big Little Lies. Others have seen hints of the once-popular TV show Desperate Housewives. It has complex male and female characters and a narrative that draws you deeper and deeper into its mystery. It will captivate you. 

Currently, I am on a book-blog tour across a slew of lovely book blogs on these-here interwebs! If you join me, along the way you will be gifted with author Q&As, interviews, guest posts, book excerpts, and reviews. And the tour doesn’t stop on June 22nd. It keeps going into July. After the main launch tour ends on July 6th, I have a special Spoilers Q&A planned for July 22nd, and another interview on the 24th! You are going to want to be there. 

You like a good book. You love a good mystery. Hell, you love good TV and film based off of good books, which means you’re probably anticipating HBO’s Sharp Objects coming out in July (post on that later). But sometimes you feel that you’ve seen it, been there, done that. How many drunk women are going to solve a murder? You want to be entertained this summer, right? Not just to be entertained, but a bonding experience, something that will get you talking with your fellow readers. And chances are high that you’re going to risk your time and pocketbook on buying some over-hyped book that comes from the bigger publishing houses and that will cost you near 30 dollars, then regret it when you can’t get into it. A digital copy of my book will only cost $7.99. That’s about as much as you’d spend on two specialty burgers at a fast food place, only my book lasts longer and doesn’t give you high cholesterol. It's even cheaper than the digital copy of that $30 book (12.99 to download a file? You're kidding me, right?) Is it self-published? Yes. But, at one point, so was Fifty Shades and Andy Weir’s The Martian. When you buy my book instead of that other expensive book, one day you’re gonna look back and say that you were part of something great before anyone knew about it. And you want to be part of something great, right? 

Then take the risk. Order my Kindle book. Be entertained! Solve the mysteries! You're not just buying a book, you're buying an experience. You are buying a bond with others who have read the book. And if you don't like it, you'll still have $22 left to buy that other, more expensive book. But I think you're going to feel glad that you got your own copy of The Man On The Roof. 

Well, what the heck are you waiting for? The book is currently on preorder here: The Man On The Roof. 

You’ve read the comparisons: Gone Girl, Sharp Objects, The Girl on the Train, Big Little Lies, Desperate Housewives. Mysteries await! Go buy a copy. 

Still not convinced? Then start following the tour! It’s already started. Click on the tour graphic to make it bigger. Catch up by clicking one of the links below! 

13th: Duffy The Writer blog interviews me here: DuffyTheWriterBlog

14th: Jan's Book Buzz gives you a cool review: JansBookBuzz

15th: Snazzy Books has an interesting Q&A: SnazzyBooks

16th: Reel Literature Should be THE blog for film & book lovers: ReelLiterature

17th: Princess and Pen has an interview for you: PrincessAndPen

20th: Sarah Rieveley has an interview for you here: Sarah'sBookCorner 

Until next time, see ya! 

P.S. Oh my god! You haven’t blogged in so long that... Did you forget how to blog? Michael, you were supposed to have a quirky, ridiculous, humorous, referential, eye-roll-inducing sign-off for your readers. Why didn’t you reference any cool pop culture in a sarcastic way? Frickin’ Ted Cruz just beat Jimmy Kimmel at basketball. You’re wasting that opportunity!! “Uh... I’ll come up with a better, more creative sign-off next time, maybe?”

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To Write A Novel #NaNoWriMo #HalfwayMark #TMOTR

To Write A Novel #NaNoWriMo #HalfwayMark #TMOTR

This picture courtesy of the NaNoWriMo commission

Writing a novel can be pretty hard, y’all. Like... yeah! For those that don’t know or who have never tried, writing a full-length novel is very difficult and can be not only taxing on you mentally but quite a pain physically. And that’s even if you’re writing something you enjoy writing, something wonderful, something light and free and fluffy and lovey-dovey! Piecing everything together to create an easy, memorable and enjoyable reading experience for those future readers you one day hope to have is no easy task, but it is sometimes in this difficulty that we stumble upon (mental stumble upon. Wait, what do you call that...? Thunk upon! That sounds right) brilliance. The one drawback to brilliance is that you never quite know if it counts as such until it’s out there for others to see and consume. But that doesn’t mean you have to fret. I believe that all writing, even the fairly bad stuff, contains nuggets of greatness. That means that for you NaNoWriMo’ers this month, even if you struggle to get to your goal, even if you end the month without having completed your task, remember that you most likely have written something great.

Remembering back two years ago, I embarked on my first official (that’s very important) NaNoWriMo in November of 2015. It was a helluva month as I also decided to take on the unnecessary added challenge of NaNoBloPoMo or, wait... Is that what it is? That doesn’t sound right. NaBlo...? National Blog Post Month (NaBloPoMo! Ha!). For those that are unfamiliar with it or don’t blog, NaBloPoMo is where you post at least one blog post everyday for an entire month. Now, if you’ve read anything else on my blog, you’ll know that it is not like me to not be very verbose. Trying to both do my writing on my novel while also doing the whole blogging thing was extremely hectic and nearly pushed me over the edge. Somehow I managed to accomplish both in a whirlwind that saw me complete the month with at least 30 (don’t know the actual number. Would have to look back to check and I’m rather lazy and too busy to do that right now) blog posts and a 118,000 word first-draft mystery novel.

That novel is TMOTR (#TMOTR for social media) but you can call it by its god-given name The Man On The Roof. It was only the second mystery novel I had ever written, yet all the while writing it I felt a surge of energy that continued to push me forward each day and make me cognizant of its weightiness. I felt I was writing something that would be amazing. Now, granted, I am quite often delusional according to my therapist Bert the trash man who absolutely swears he’s just a trash man but is older, black, always has great nuggets of wisdom and totally fits the archetype of the magical negro (I swear that brotha went to Hogwarts or somethin’). But even with that I still couldn’t fight the feeling that I had created something great, which is one of the biggest reasons that kept me pushing through the project, pushing through the small snippets of writer’s block (though I find it insanely difficult to actually get writer’s block when you’re constantly writing and working on at least two different projects at once. I know it sounds crazy hard, but try it. It frees your mind) and the mental fatigue of crafting a story; pushing through the emotional roller coaster that was (and still is) my relationship with each of the characters and growing to love and loathe them as the time went on; charging forward through the quandaries and quagmires of questions that came up in the plot and how to get from point A to point C while making point B the most dramatic; creating a world and setting for not just my characters to live in but creating enough empty space for the reader to slot his or her thoughts and feelings into the setting too, in order to fill out the rest of the environment; battling to create not just narrative but atmospheric narrative; making sure each voice was right, each character just distinct enough; and figuring out a way to lure the reader deeper and deeper into the mysterious darkness while keeping them hooked on every word, every sentence, every idea put forth in the book. It’s a heck of a lot.

Now, two years after having written it, I finally am ready to release it and am looking for reviewers of this book that I think is similar to Gone Girl, The Girl On The Train, Big Little Lies, In A Dark, Dark Wood and the like. No, I wasn’t editing this the whole time. I worked on the editing for three weeks after I finished it and haven’t touched it since but only now do I think the timing for the book is right.

That’s neither here nor there. What is important is that I know your plight dear NaNoWriMo’er and for all you first-timers, I can say that it is wholly doable. Is it a challenge? Of course. And no, nobody expects you to finish over 100,000 words (which is only an achievement if the book is actually good). But push yourself further and harder than you ever have before.

First Mystery Suspense Thriller

Coming In 

December

OK, now it’s that cringe-worthy time where I give you unsolicited advice. I know. I hate getting that kind of advice because it seems to almost always come from some smart-butt who thinks he or she knows everything or knows something that I don’t, and just wants to rub it in. If you don’t want to take it that’s totally fine, but I do find that sometimes this stuff helps. Sometimes it helps to hear something you already know from someone else to sure-up your own confidence and sometimes there truly are things that you didn’t think of that another person has thought of and that can be helpful to you. So, here it goes, my tips on getting through the month.

First, I know that this month, for many, is so often not really about finishing the novel but about word counts and lengths, and as we get deeper into this thing, we’re gonna start seeing more and more people posting about how many words they’ve written in one day or one week, or how close they are to the minimum goal of 50,000 words. Ignore it! Ignore it all. Is it good to keep track of just how much you’ve done, you’ve accomplished? Of course. And taking a peek at how many words you’ve logged in a day or over a week does help you to gauge your productivity level, but don’t let this sidetrack you. In fact, don’t let the word count get you down at all. This is totally gonna sound like bragging but I assure you it is not and it’s truthful (you can go back through my blog and check if you’d like). So don’t judge.

Anyways, as I was doing the posts and the novel writing, and we did have the Thanksgiving holiday on which I am always the primary cook for my family, I still also had yardwork to do. As some of my long-time readers may know, I am a vegetable gardener and all-around environmentalist (Go #CaptainPlanet) so I am really big into composting. Well, that year I foolishly, for the first (but not last) time requested a truckload of leaves be delivered to my house. Leaves which I would use both for mulching all of my aesthetic gardening beds, as well as mixing with coffee grounds, lawn clippings and food scraps to set as the base for my compost pile. The picture below is of the leaf pile.

The pile was taller than me, as long as a full-sized Sedan (maybe longer), and made of the driest, most compact assortment of leaves you can get. Most were maple leaves and they smelled amazing, like warm maple syrup. We had 70 degree temps that week in November which is unseasonably warm but pretty great because it would get dark hella early and it was the week of Thanksgiving so everybody was home and off. Moving the leaves alone, it took me four days to get them all moved from the front of my yard to all around the property where they needed to be. That was four days of not writing at all on my novel.

Whatever time I did get at the end of the night went directly to my blogging and sleep. And another full day of Thanksgiving-ing (uh... That should totally be a word. Yes, I know that thanksgiving in and of itself is technically a verb. Don’t bother me with minutia, reader) where I also hardly wrote anything. So out of 30 days I only wrote for about 25 of them. My point is that if I had stressed over word count and how much I got done during those days (I may have blogged about stressing a little), I would have volunteered my brain for writer’s block and never achieved my goal. How many words you have doesn’t matter as much as how complete the story is and how good those words are. Granted, there is some importance to the word count if all you’ve previously done is write short stories, but even then, I’d say don’t look at the word count until you are satisfactorily finished with the story, then hopefully you still have a week of time left at the end of the month to make some changes or additions within the story.

The Writer Seasons 1-3 Out NOW

on Amazon Kindle

With that point made, I feel everything else should flow easily. Remember, while this month is certainly focused on finishing a full novel, it’s not really about finishing a full novel, but telling a story as best you can in a way that pleases both you and a potential reader one day. Have fun with this thing. Remember that the writing is supposed to be the fun part, even if you are purging anger, resentment, depression or the like out onto the blank page (The Man On The Roof #TMOTR was written in a rage-fueled miasma that stemmed from continuing to be a failure at writing and all-around, and having poor timing in my life). Don’t stress over words. Take risks with your writing, try new things, let the story take you where it wants to venture and be willing to make mistakes. But—this is something that most other authors won’t tell you because everyone is a huge worshipper of the editing and revisions process—make your first draft as near to perfect as possible. Yes, you’ll have plenty of time to go back and tinker and fix and add and subtract, but one of the reasons why this month is so challenging is not because of the word counts or things of that nature, but because it wants you to challenge yourself to write a novel and not just slop together some pretty words that occasionally make sense. If you’re gonna stress over anything, stress over the tightness of the narrative and the believability of the characters (not even so much the relatability as each reader will pick and choose who they relate to based on their own biases).

Another big nugget of advice: DON’T TRY TO EDIT ANYTHING DURING THE MONTH!! It’s tempting, I know. And some people will tell you that it pays to be a perfectionist and if you just go back and tweak things, it’s OK. No. Stop before you do that and remember this thought: there is more brilliance deleted by authors than ever makes it into their novels. Quote from me. Michael Stephenson. If you’re a seasoned writer you should already know that you should never be deleting anything anyway, unless it is a grammatical error like mispalings and such. But sentences that don’t sound right in the flow of things, dialogue that you don’t particularly care for and even entire scenes that you think can be cut—keep all of it in your first draft. And if you want to make an edit later, then mark it as something you want to take a look at, then write whatever you wanted to edit it to be (if you already have something in mind) just below your note, but don’t delete it. And don’t slow down your mind’s conscious stream of thought to go back and question yourself if this one particular word is the right particular word in that sentence, because you could come back to the novel in a month or two and realize that your first choice was the best choice but you can’t remember what it was.

As for outlining and framework construction, I will leave it up to you. I will tell you that while I had been thinking of TMOTR for a while, I hadn’t had a proper outline and, in fact, the original idea I had for the story was drastically different than what the novel ended up becoming. Sometimes I have an outline but sometimes I simply leave prompts for myself, something which I recommend all writers do. The prompts are generally questions or brief synopses about what I want or think should happen either next in the story or what I am comfortable writing next. Again, this month should be about getting into a particular groove of comfort that allows you to open your most creative mindset. Some good questions are: what a particular character learned from what you wrote that day, when you want a crucial event to happen, how you see the characters interacting with each other at the end, and et cetera. Those are just examples, but it is important to think like a reader would which is going to actually drive your narrative. If you can get into the mind of your reader before they are in their own mind, and anticipate what they will think when reading your work, then you can reward them by fulfilling their expectations or yank them deeper into the story by throwing an unexpected twist at them. And yes, sometimes the best thing to do is to let yourself fall into a bout of writer’s block because right after that is usually when the magic happens, but never get concerned about not being able to get any words down on the page.

Extraordinary Season One Out NOW!

This month’s pursuit is solely to make you a better writer, make you a faster thinker and more agile wordsmith. It is meant to challenge your perspective on how you write from start to finish, including the planning process. So get messy, make mistakes, and most of all, have fun! And some of the best times you’ll have during this process will come, surprisingly, not from the writing, though that will be pretty amazing. Some of the best times might very well come from social media and any other offline/real-life socializing groups that you have where you can get together and talk about either writing or reading or both. NaNoWriMo is one of the few months where you don’t have to be or feel alone in the writing process. Yes, writing is often solitary but it doesn’t have to be this month. Go to wherever other writers are and share your stories of what you are doing. Give updates on what you are writing, what characters you’ve fallen in love with, which ones you absolutely loathe, or how the plot has changed from what you thought it was originally. And don’t just share triumphs, share failures, the mundane, the quirky, the questionable and the like. If you’re struggling with a particular section, don’t agonize in silence, take it to Twitter or Facebook or Goodreads or wherever and ask questions about that situation there. Yes, while there is always a bit of paranoia about idea theft, there are still tons of authors out there willing to help you solve your writing problems. And sometimes it’s just good to commiserate with others trying to achieve the same thing. Make friendships and more importantly, make enemies, too. Seriously, haven’t you always wanted a nemesis? You could totally have one and have that person be a writer just like you. It’s perfect!

Anyway, that’s my two cents. To all my fellow writers and authors who dare to participate in the 2017 November NaNoWriMo, I wish you good luck and happy writing. And for anyone interested in reviewing my novel The Man On The Roof, I would love it if you did. Here’s a description:

“There was a man on your roof.” And so starts the psychological intrigue. A small, quiet, Northeast Ohio suburb plays host to a murder when the body of a teenage ne'er-do-well is found hanging from a street banner on a summer morning. At the end of the lane where the murder took place, live five different couples and one old man. Neighbors make for convenient friends as all five couples consider themselves one collective group. But someone here is a murderer. Lies, betrayal and twisted deeds come to light as fingers point and eyes narrow. Who's lying? Who can be trusted? Who has a secret worth killing for? As spouses turn against each other but one thing is for sure: The boy's murderer was trying to send a message. The murderer will kill again.

A psychological mystery thriller in the vein of Gone Girl, The Girl on the Train, and Liane Moriarty's Big Little Lies, The Man on the Roof is told in 10 distinct voices that dig into the inner marrow of the lives and secrets that the people at the end of Shady Lane hold. Designed to be re-readable and keep readers on their toes, it will keep you up at night and have you second and third-guessing every theory about who done it and why. You might want to take notes on this one because you'll surely be talking about The Man on the Roof (#TMOTR) all year long! If you'd like to review it, let me know in the comments below and we can set something up. Currently, it will only be an ebook but hopefully within six months I will have hard copies.

Otherwise, I wish you all as much success as you can stand this month and beyond. Write something cool, and if it isn’t cool don’t fret, nobody actually reads books anymore anyway ;).

Check out my 5-star comedy novel, Yep, I'm Totally Stalking My Ex-Boyfriend. #AhStalking If you’re looking for a scare, check the YA novel #AFuriousWind, the NA novel #DARKER, #BrandNewHome or the bizarre horror #ThePowerOfTen. For those interested in something a little more dramatic and adult, check out #TheWriter. Seasons 1, 2 and 3 are out NOW, exclusively on Amazon. Stay connected here for updates on season 4 coming summer 2018. If you like fast action/crime check out #ADangerousLow. The sequel A New Low will be out in a few months. Look for the mysterious Sci-fi episodic novella series Extraordinary on Amazon. Season 2 of that coming real soon. And look for the mystery novels The Knowledge of Fear #KnowFear and The Man on the Roof #TMOTR coming this fall/winter. Twisty novels as good as Gone Girl or The Girl on the Train, you won’t want to miss them. Join us on Goodreads to talk about books and TV, and subscribe to and follow my blog with that Google+ button to the right.

Until next time, (looks at book on coffee table) “Wow! Have you read that book?”

‘Uh... Yeah, totally.’

“I love the part when she takes the paddle and starts spanking the guy and he turns into a dragon and—”

‘Well, actually, I haven’t read it at all. I’ve just been using it as a coaster for my tea mug. Dat tea be hot and delicious!’

(exasperated head shakes)

P.S. Yes, I know that was a long sign-off. Don’t judge me. I should be judging you, reader. You totally know that you have at least one or two books that you have been meaning to read but is now serving as a cup coaster somewhere or is sitting somewhere in plain sight to make you look well-read. For shame! Well, at least drink a cup of tea for me. Cheers! I’ll think of a better, shorter sign-off line next time.

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Always Be Good To Her. Mother! #review #Mother #movie

Always Be Good To Her. Mother! #review #Mother #movies 

Wow! So, I just paced my house for the last 15 minutes trying to figure out what I wanted to say about this movie, yet it’s so simplistic in its message that I don’t think that I have to say as much about it as I thought I would. So if the movie was so simple, then why the heck do I like it so much? Is it even a good film? And how did Jennifer Lawrence’s top-nude scenes not save this movie? Let’s dig in and find out.

The movie mother! By Darren Aronofsky and starring mega-star Jennifer Lawrence and Javier Bardem is a movie that, uh... was definitely marketed wrong. It’s not rare that I say that but it is rare that I start a review in that manner. I did it because I think that a great deal of this movie’s box-office floppiness is due, in part, to the marketing. Yes, the critics played a part in it too, either hyping it as something that is almost so smart and brilliant that most people are turned off by the pretentiousness of the critiques, and conclude that the film must also be pretentious. Or crapping on the film so hard for being... well, pretentious and overly preachy. Apparently, in this time of Trumpism and everything being divided either into a camp of Liberal or Conservative, the slightest whiff of any political message gets lambasted by both sides regardless of its artistic worthiness. And then there are that small sliver of critics who are just pissed about the baby. But before we throw the movie out with the baby water, or, wait... Is that how that saying goes? Hmph? I don’t know. Anyway, before you dismiss the movie for the baby scene, and yes there will be SPOILERS IN THIS REVIEW (kind of impossible not to review it without spoilers. I’ll explain why later), remember that these are some of the same critics that praised IT. That’s all I’ll say for now until I get to the spoiler-heavy area.

So, in mother! Jennifer Lawrence plays a young woman (correction: young, beautiful, really hot woman; oh my god I don’t think I’ve been more attracted to her than here. Damn, with my comments about Laura Dern on my Twin Peaks post and my comments about Baywatch, I truly am becoming a dirty old lecher) married to Javier Bardem, who, while still attractive himself, is aging and looks it. Let me point out that the parenthetical above, while at first glance sexist and chauvinistic, is actually extremely apt for Lawrence’s description and character in this movie, and you’ll understand why later.

Bardem is supposed to be a writer, in fact, the author of this book which we’re not exactly sure was popular or not as he, like almost all writers, is self-deprecating and talks about how so few people have read it. Lawrence is his young housewife who is concerned almost solely with making their house into a home. See, Bardem (note that I will always use the actors names as the don’t officially have character names but designations. This is easier) used to live in this house before, but it burned down in a tragic fire we briefly see at the beginning. We later learn that he escaped that fire only to come back to the house and discover one lone thing left within the ashes, a clear egg-shaped orb with fiery veins that glow through it. That is not my best poetry to explain the beauty of this thing, but it’ll have to do for now. Now that he’s rebuilt the house, he and his bride have moved in to start their life. This is paradise. It’s a country home so there are no other people around probably for miles and they like it that way. Hell, Jennifer never even feels she has to leave the house it’s so amazing.

And then a man shows up.

A stranger, the man is supposedly a doctor come to the local town to do research at the school. He came to their house looking for a bed and breakfast and automatically seems suspicious to Jennifer because they’re literally in the middle of nowhere, so the man had to come really far out to happen upon their door. Bardem lets the man in and allows him to get comfortable. Well, as it so happens, the man is a fan of Bardem’s work. As Bardem takes him on a tour of the house, the man remarks on how beautiful Jennifer is and he also talks about the beauty of that orb, but Javier does not let him touch the orb, which is very important to both the story and one of my criticisms of the movie.

Well, Bardem, much to Jennifer’s shock, welcomes the man to stay the night. Jennifer doesn’t like this, especially because the man smokes and does it inside of the house. Not only that, but the man is sick with something that Jennifer knows nothing about, which is another important point for criticism. She sees her husband holding the man while he vomits into the toilet, coughing up something that she can’t identify. As he is coughing, she finds his Zippo lighter and knocks it behind the cabinet in the room that they’ve now made into a guest room for him.

And the next morning his wife arrives.

Wait, he has a wife? Reader, you didn’t know he had a wife? Played by Michelle Pfeiffer who had conceivably dropped off the face of the earth (ha! I’m making myself laugh now. I need to stop), the wife is even more intrusive and rude the husband. She demands to have a tour, asks the all-important kids question, loudly wonders about the age gap between Jennifer and Javier, invites herself to stay with her husband and immediately starts drinking. For the first half hour, this movie plays as nothing more than a potential horror movie/psychological slow-creep thriller about very bad houseguests. Michelle tells Jennifer that she needs to spice things up in her marriage because Michelle immediately figures out that while Jennifer wants children, Javier either doesn’t (though he said he did) or just isn’t interested in them right now. Not enough to have sex with Jennifer, at least. This is what is bothering her. That, along with the fact that while Javier is claiming to work, he hasn’t been able to create anything new in a very long time. Things are beginning to get tense.

And then the wife breaks the orb.

Javier gets so mad about the orb breaking that he boards up his office so they can never get in again, but still allows them to be guests in the house.

And then their sons arrive. Two sons, they arrive in a ruckus. As it turns out, their father is so sick that he is about to die. He recently changed his will to have everything go into a trust rather than divvy up his fortune to his heirs. This way, his sons and wife all have to get along and make communal money decisions. But one son is so angry that he bludgeons his brother to death in the middle of one of the rooms. While Javier and the family leave to take the brother to the hospital (strangely disappearing as soon as they are out the door) and the murdering brother briefly returns to get his wallet, Jennifer follows the leak of the blood through a hole in the floor and down to the basement where she finds a room that looks like it has some kind of oil barrel in it possibly for the heating of the house.

The family comes back and hosts a bereavement gathering for the brother. And this is when things start to get hella weird because these people are even more rude than the family and Jennifer is losing it. They are using the bathroom without asking, sitting on unstable counters, using the couple’s bedroom to try to get it on and, in the weirdest twist, painting the walls. And this is legitimately the first moment in the movie where, if you haven’t been forewarned what’s going on, you will start to question what the hell you just paid for and either check out or try to figure it out. I would say wait, slow down, think about it, and try to figure it out because the second half of the film gets even crazier.

There Were Many Letters I Could Have Gotten But I Wanted One

After Bardem and Jennifer finally get the family out of the house, they have a fight in which she wants to leave, but he finally gives her the D and they wake up all happy. She immediately knows she’s pregnant after one piping and he suddenly has inspiration to create again. He starts writing immediately and she goes into full mommy-prep mode as she turns that once-guest bedroom into a nursery.

The one big problem? That hole where the blood bled through is not only still there, but it still seems to be bleeding. Even when she puts a rug over it, it not only bleeds but bleeds through the rug. Then she takes the rug away from the floor to see that the floor is no longer bleeding but its actually the rug. This is just one of the many problems that she has seen wrong with the house throughout its existence. See, every so often she’ll get a pulsing sensation through her heart and also feel the house’s “heart” beating. Often during these times she can see or feel the decay of the house, the old burnt pieces of wood and destroyed plaster, see the warp of the fire-damaged frame on which this house is built. She sees it on the walls and the floors and the ceilings and everywhere and then she straightens up, goes to take some kind of tonic (what the tonic is, we really never know), and then is fine again for a little while.

And here is where those people who don’t want to be spoiled (even though I’ve told you about half the movie already) step off the train and leave because literally once you read the next sentence, you can go into it knowing exactly what to expect and there should be no real surprises in the movie.

OK, so there are going to be spoilers for the entirety of the plot from here-on out. OK? Got it?

OK, so here is why I really don’t understand why this film is so split with people, save for if it is a criticism not necessarily of the film but of the two main people involved: Darren Aronofsky and Jennifer Lawrence. The movie can be taken to have two messages, depending on how you want to see them, based on the same exact thing. The movie is a basic, almost overly simplistic allegory (more metaphor than allegory, frankly) of the story of mother earth, humanity and (here’s where the split is) either the first and last books in the Christian Bible, or an atheistic more nature/scientific look at the infinite loop of existence. In either case, it plays into climate change. While I could spend most of my time breaking down the latter, the former is what most people saw who understood the movie.

By now, you should be able to come up with the fact that Jennifer, who, as I mentioned, never leaves or even steps foot out of the house. (She does walk onto the porch, but for the sake of this film and I’m sure what was intended in Darren’s mind we will consider that still inside the house). Both she and the house are one as evidenced by the opening sequence in which the old house was already burnt down but everything remakes itself and the crumbled embers of a person lying in bed rejuvenates, puffs and grows back into a woman. She and the house are the literal interpretation of mother earth. So, anything that she does to the house also happens to her.

If she is mother Earth/nature then her husband must be... OK, here is where I will briefly mention the atheistic possibility, then go back to the Christian one. If looking at this from a purely atheist view (I mention this because Darren Aronofsky is reportedly a Jewish-raised atheist, though both this and his last movie Noah are heavily religious in tone), you can actually conclude that Javier is Father Time. You can conclude this for a few reasons starting with his age. He looks much older, much more worn. But his profession as a writer can also refer to the old line about life or certain events being “written on the sands of time” which are controlled by father time. Again, that is only there if you don’t want to see the religious aspect.

Now, back to the Judeo-Christian interpretation. In the loosest sense, Javier is God to Jennifer’s mother earth. I can see some other devout Christians understanding that and not liking it. Darren has to make some narrative compromises (not all of which are necessary) to fit in the movie. In the case of Javier not being the full-on creator as in the Christian bible, we can excuse that for sake of not giving the entire film away. Where as in the bible there was nothing, from which God birthed everything including mother earth, here both the basic structure of the house and the ashes that constitute mother are already in existence and he simply reconstitutes them. It is unclear and never shown whether or not he ever started from scratch.

So then if we have our God and mother earth, then you already know the man is Adam, his wife, Michelle Pfeifer, is Eve. Here, I have a criticism. This slight narrative alteration, while seemingly small, is exceptionally significant. I’m talking about the sickness. Again, I know that Jennifer is a feminist and I believe Darren is also, so I can see why they’d change this, but it still stuck out to me. In the film, when the man is introduced he not only already has vice (smoking and drinking) but he is also shown to be sick and ailing the night before his wife arrives. He is shown with an imperfect body (there’s some huge gash on his side where, presumably his rib was), and he’s throwing up. The thing he vomited up looks devilish.

In the Bible there is nothing wrong with Adam. As much as it may hurt to hear, Adam’s downfall from perfection and oneness with nature and God doesn’t come around until Eve is introduced. The fact that he shows that the man is sick and vice-filled enough to piss off mother earth with his smoking BEFORE Eve arrives betrays the original Biblical narrative of the Fall and suggests that mankind has always been inherently sinful. This is only further solidified by the fact that we never see a devil or tempting force that makes them go up to Javier’s office and accidentally break that beautiful crystal, which is meant to stand in as the fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil. This purports the premise that man has always been an evil creature as opposed to just a sometimes stupid one that doesn’t listen. Legitimately, this was probably my biggest critique of the film as it puts almost all of the onus on Adam and very little on Eve.

And of course if those two are Adam and Eve, then their two sons are Cain and Abel. This, unlike the Adam smoking and being sick thing, is a needed narrative change because it would look strange for them to fight over the inheritance/favor of Javier’s character/God as in the Bible, when they don’t know him. It also makes the point of the first blood spilt on the earth from murder, as opposed to sacrifice, of extreme importance. The blood both leads down to the basement to the room where the oil is which we know becomes the instrument for the later destruction, and it leaves a stain on the floor that can never be healed. But even worse, it leaves a stain in the same room where mother, rather inexplicably, chooses to put a nursery. This is symbolic for mother earth and God’s ability to take the most horrifying event in life and bring beauty anew from it.

By this time, you’ve already guessed why I specifically called out Jennifer’s beauty in this film. Obviously she’s wearing makeup in this film as she does in all films (nature of the business) but here, in a great many of the scenes she is so brushed that she literally looks like a porcelain doll. She is noticeably perfect. The sheen is in the exact right place and she looks more perfect and enticing, while also being more innocent than she ever has before, even in real life on Oscars carpets and in her Hunger Games glow-up scenes. Yes, this is partially because she’s older and has the gloss of maturity on her, but it is also intentional to show the pure-driven innocence and untouched beauty of mother nature/earth in times and places where humans do not heavily disrupt what is already there.

Then, as the craziness begins in the second act of the film, if you figured the message out and the Biblical references in the first act, you are wholly prepared for all the insanity of the second act, even though Darren does take it slightly over the top with the messaging. You don’t necessarily need to be beat over the head with the message, but he does that just to make sure you’re getting it. Here, I can see people balking at its preachyness. And the other half of the audience that still hasn’t got it by that point in time (whether they just haven’t thought about what they’re consuming or are of a different religion that knows little about the Judeo-Christian creation) sees a hodgepodge of insanity that makes almost no sense until the end.

Let me actually back up to the beginning of that last paragraph and talk about the structure of the film because I think it’s important. To me, this film does not have the traditional three-act structure like so many writers—screenwriters in particular—talk about. Yes, you can make an argument for the calm-down after the baby’s birth being a third act, or even after the re-creation, however I wouldn’t count either of those as full or even partial acts unto themselves but rather elongated beats in the second act. I point this out because it mimics both our calendar concept of time (B.C. and A.D. or C.E.) as well as the division of the Christian Bible between old and new testament, casting away much of its Judaism and Islamic principles shared amongst all three religions and going strictly for the Christian path. Here, I can also see another minor criticism from other devout Christians popping up who understood the movie. It is quite easy for them to say, and rightfully so, that Christianity, for whatever reason is the most criticized and easiest to criticize in Hollywood or pop culture in general, both here and around the world. There are, however, other religions in the world and some that even predate Christianity, yet they field almost no criticism quite like Christians do. While I can see some people saying this, I was fine with it. I’m even OK with a declared atheist making religious films so long as he takes the time to understand the subject matter on a deeper level than just, “I don’t believe in this and these people are weak who believe in this so let me make fun of them,” like other atheist filmmakers have done in the past.

So, while mother is pregnant, her husband finishes his new word, his first new creation in a very long time. And before mother’s even done reading it, his publisher is already calling about how many copies are being made. This can be taken as another reference to Javier being father time in an atheistic interpretation. We as an audience have been well-trained to understand the passage of time in film so much so that we take it for granted when we see one image that is starkly different from the previous image. For instance, whenever you see a flat-tummyed woman in a scene saying that she’s pregnant and in the very next scene she’s now rubbing her bulbous ready-to-pop belly, we automatically assume that months have passed. Here, however, because of the blunt messaging of the film, we really shouldn’t blatantly assume such a thing. Just as Jennifer knows right away that she is pregnant the morning after she and Javier have sex, the very next scene in which she is near ready to give birth could very well be the next day or two days later, rather than months. I say this because of the speedy pace of the second act of the movie.

We go from the book being published, to her preparing a celebratory dinner for just the two of them, to fans showing up on their doorstep to talk about the new book, to the fans invading their home to talk about the book, to stealing things from the house, to trying to paint the house again, to raving and having parties and sex, and destroying the kitchen, to all-out chaos and troopers and police invading the house, to people looking at mother to check her teeth and treat her like cattle ready to sell into slavery, to people bombing the house, to people protesting and chanting gibberish against each other, to people yanking and grabbing and pulling at her and Javier, to people receiving Javier’s word and getting symbols of blood smeared on their forehead to she and Javier finally escaping back into his office he had boarded up from Adam and Eve so long ago after they broke that egg-crystal.

She gives birth and the people give gifts and want to see the baby but she doesn’t want her baby to be seen by them. Here, both the atheistic and Christian narratives mingle to give us two meanings of equal weight and caliber. In the Christian narrative the child is Jesus—a child created not by man but by God and mother earth/nature. In the atheistic narrative which also serves as interpretation for what and who Jesus is, the child is every gift both big and small that this earth gives us, which is basically everything. We would have nothing without the earth’s (and God’s) generosity. The child is oil, food, medicine, wood for houses, metal for electronics, everything you can think of that we “need” in our lives today. But because mother has already given so much of herself, of her house to people, she wants this one thing to herself.

But God loves everyone including mother earth, so while he understands her hurt over their house having been half-destroyed, he still wants to just show them his pride and joy. They play a game of attrition that she finally loses by falling asleep for a second. He takes the baby and shows it to the crowd but she runs after it and then we have the baby scene. In it, the baby’s neck audibly snaps as the crowd passes the baby around. If you’ve seen Aronofsky’s Noah, then think of that lamb scene in which they throw the animal into the air and the people tear at its limbs while it is still alive. Then, for a brief second, mother gets to an altar at front to see that the people have eaten the baby, picked it’s bones clean. And I actually started laughing only because the quick flash of the picked-over carcass looked exactly like the leftover bones of a roast chicken. And I literally thought, dag, did Perdue pay for some advertising in this movie?

The crowd then rages at mother, half stripping off her shirt and beating her. On an off-screen, on-screen note, I was wondering how Jennifer Lawrence and a lot of these female stars that have been hacked in recent years felt about onscreen nudity now. I’m not saying that the hack effected her decision and I don’t know if her breasts at the end of the film were hers or if that was a body double because in the midst of the fight, it did look like someone different at times, but I do know that her breasts in the sheer top at the beginning of the movie were all her and I did like them. Shame me for liking breasts if you want to. I don’t care. But I will say that if they were hers, then I think she chose the right film in which to sort of snap back against the invasion of privacy of the hack and reclaim rights to her own body. Here, her bare breasts were shown, in both instances, with artistic meaning. It wasn’t just enough to appreciate the nakedness of the female form but to say that mother earth started as an innocent stripped down form of beauty, now man has come in and seeks to strip her once again but not to admire her beauty but to strip her of said beauty. It, in some ways, is a poetic mirror to the picture hack controversy.

And in the end she grabs Adam’s Zippo lighter that has been sitting behind the cabinet for all this time, runs to the basement and sets the house on fire, blowing it up. Only she and Javier survive: him without a scratch and her charred crispy which is precisely what is suggested will happen to this earth in the book of Revelation (because God’s already destroyed the world with water with the great flood) and by today’s climate change scientists. Javier talks to her about why he let the people in and how he can’t help it because he has to create (which is almost the exact same thing I wrote in one of my books that I never got published). He then reaches into her chest cavity, pulls another one of those beautiful crystals from out of her and watches as she dies and turns to ash. He takes the crystal and places it on a special holder he has in his office and the house peels back the char, repaints a lot of itself and gets to humming again. A woman even puffs back up to fluffy in bed just like in the beginning and everything starts again, ending this whole story with a Buddhist reincarnation-like twist like in one of my works.

The meaning is straight forward: we humans have come into and been gifted a land of beauty and perfection but we’ve taken advantage of it so much that we are destroying all the things this world has and is giving us on an environmental level. Eventually, it will turn on us and decide that it either doesn’t want to live anymore or try to destroy us if we haven’t already destroyed ourselves and it by that time. This, when taking some of Revelation and the other disciples’ scripture literally, is actually the exact thing said in the Bible too. For people like me, who see the parallels to what we are doing both to the ecosystem/environment and what we are doing to each other, this message is not lost. I have long been an avid eco-warrior. Longtime readers should know that I have wanted to make a Captain Planet film for a very long time because I think that it is important. And I have always believed that regardless of your religion (but especially if you’re a Christian), one of your chief concerns should be treating this earth right because it has given so much to us all. This is probably why I was able to overlook the preachyness of the film and the undertones that serve as an indictment against religions being bad and destructive (everything influenced by man is bad and destructive, including atheism and science) to really enjoy this movie.

There are a lot of critics that are trying to parse out one message at a time similar to what fans of Twin Peaks do. But as I said there, sometimes you can get stuck on the little things and make them into something larger than what they should be rather than looking at the big picture. To say that this movie is against protesting or police brutality or something like that just because that is shown briefly, is to miss the point of the movie. Yes, those things are important but in the whole of it, they are quite minor. While the movie is overly artsy at times and goes from a gentle caress of a massage in the first act to a heavy-handed deep-tissue thump in the second act, it is ultimately as bubblegum Hollywood as you can get with the simplest message: we as a species need to figure out our danged problems real fast and start learning how to treat each other right, as well as this beautiful earth that has been gifted to us, otherwise we’re going to lose it. And while God can, and most likely will start over (and in this movie he does bear some of the blame here for mother’s breakdown), he only wants us to find an equilibrium where all three of us can live in perfect and pure harmony. See? Simple. Don’t let other reviewers tell you otherwise. You can further extrapolate from there.

My big problems is that in many interviews both Jennifer and Darren straight said that she was mother earth. I think it was a mistake to tell the message of the movie before people have seen it. That is one thing that Darren can certainly learn from David Lynch. It almost feels like telling the mystery of a film before seeing the film. I know, there are plenty of people who will read a book that something is based on, then go see the movie which, even though I hope for the same thing later in my career with my works, always found to be a little weird. I think this would’ve been better if audiences had a little more mystery going into it.

Also, I found a lot of critics’ reviews stupid. Chief among the complaints (which was a problem with Jennifer’s last movie Passengers) is that the film was called out as being too misogynistic. Give me a break. Some reviewers have suggested that the film has a “muse” problem and that Jennifer is too passive to Javier’s controlling masculinity in which he dictates what can and can’t happen in his house. It’s almost as if they don’t understand that God is God, or the story as a whole. He created her. She comes from him. And this goes back to my Adam sickness and Eve’s responsibility critique, beside I find that the movie makes it perfectly clear what the power dynamic is. Michelle or Eve makes it a point to call attention to their age difference, suggesting that they are, in no ways equals here. To me, her criticism is the exact same criticism that the critics have. She’s not supposed to be treated equally. She is actually pedestal-ed as his last creation. In essence, she is equal to all of the guests of their home because God loves them, too. Saying that she is not strong enough as a character misses the point of the metaphor. It would be like saying one of my books (my creation) is not fairly treated in relation to me. It makes almost no sense. Again, you have to view this through a biblical paradigm. The earth has no true personality of its own because it is never given freewill of its own nor spirit nor soul but is always coddled by God. It is only given the tools to defend itself and not be of itself. It is vessel.

What do you think? Have you seen mother!? If not, do you think you will now after reading this? If you did, how did you like the movie? Did you understand it while you were watching it? If you didn’t understand it but get it now, do you think that understanding the meaning of the movie before seeing it would have influenced how you felt about the movie? Honestly, I thought I was going to see a horror movie and had only seen one trailer (I tried not to suffer from multiple-trailer fatigue this year for any film I saw) and was briefly disappointed before being pleasantly surprised by the story. Let me know what you think in the comments below. 

Check out my 5-star comedy novel, Yep, I'm Totally Stalking My Ex-Boyfriend. #AhStalking If you’re looking for a scare, check the YA novel #AFuriousWind, the NA novel #DARKER, #BrandNewHome or the bizarre horror #ThePowerOfTen. For those interested in something a little more dramatic and adult, check out #TheWriter. Seasons 1, 2 and 3 are out NOW, exclusively on Amazon. Stay connected here for updates on season 4 coming summer 2018. If you like fast action/crime check out #ADangerousLow. The sequel A New Low will be out in a few months. Look for the mysterious Sci-fi episodic novella series Extraordinary on Amazon. Season 2 of that coming real soon. And look for the mystery novels The Knowledge of Fear #KnowFear and The Man on the Roof #TMOTR coming this fall/winter. Twisty novels as good as Gone Girl or The Girl on the Train, you won’t want to miss them. Join us on Goodreads to talk about books and TV, and subscribe to and follow my blog with that Google+ button to the right.

Until next time, “You didn’t send your mother a birthday card but you sent one to your dry cleaner?”

‘Well, my dry cleaner always keeps me looking clean and stylish.’

“Hm? OK. Fair enough.”

P.S. The release date of this movie is super strange as it is not really in the prime spot for awards season fodder nor is it in a good spot for box-office success. If they wanted a horror movie box office, they should’ve released it in October. Awards? November. Box office? Either during Easter or on Mother’s day. Wasted opportunity. Anyway, I’ll try to come up with a better sign-off next time.

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