I write about nerdy things, and celebrate those things as a college writing teacher. I live in the mountains and co-founded the production house ADK Mogul.

20,000 Days on Earth, a drama/documentary featuring a day in the life of Nick Cave. I need to see this. 

joehillsthrills:

And here’s the hilarious, full throttle US trailer for HORNS, via MTV.

Oh, uh, he doesn’t say “beat the heck out of each other” in the movie. But you mighta guessed that.

UPDATE:

Horns has a Facebook page for people who Facebook, and a Twitter account for people who tweet.

I read the book, and loved it, so I’m psyched to see this. Also I like that Radcliffe is wearing Gryffindor colors—that’s probably my favorite joke of this trailer. 

ADK Mogul Productions Newsletter →

adkmogul:

Hi, everybody!

Way back when we were selling copies of THE DEAL we put together a newsletter for that release, and…we haven’t been back. To be honest, we have been missing in action to a certain degree. Between personal, professional, and creative developments life’s been pretty crazy this year. For example, Tim’s success with his first novel, the release of its sequel is reason to celebrate and reinvigorate, and the EKG that monitors my creative life (It’s alive! No, it’s dead! It’s alive and it’s better than…No, it’s dead on the slab) have made things very hectic for us as individuals.

But we’re back, and like Marvel Comics we’re rebooting with a new first issue within a year.

That’s why we’re bringing the newsletter back. We’ll talk about the things we’re currently working on like the 2014-2015 Lake Placid Film Forum series at the LPCA, The Shared Experience, book-related things, and the occasional personal aside on us and our individual creative lives. 

So, subscribe. We promise we won’t spam you every day. In fact, it’ll come out probably once a month, because—like you—we hate clutter in our inboxes. Amazon does enough of that for all of us.

Thanks and see you in the emails!

 —Dave.

Hey, we’re going to do a monthly newsletter with updates on all the things we’re working on. Like shout outs for work in area productions! Book trailers! Documentaries! Events, and some talk about being creative in the Adirondacks. Check it out if you like. Thanks!

During the packed panel at San Diego Comic-Con, the Saga writer noted that while today, Joss Whedon and George R.R. Martin are considered cultural monsters for killing off beloved characters, death used to be a more common feature of popular fiction. One problem, he believes, is that too many characters live in the hands of corporations and are therefore considered too precious to kill. Vaughn feels that takes away one of the things that makes fiction so valuable.

Brian K. Vaugh[a]n And Fiona Staples Reveal What’s Ahead For Saga (via wilwheaton). Great point, but it’d be great if people actually took a second to make sure they spell his name correctly. It takes five seconds max. 

(via wilwheaton)

The winner for best digital/webcomic makes me so crazy that I can’t contain my rage without slamming my fists. That’s a joke right. Literally a joke. I’m so, so sorry for christophersebela, Ibrahim Moustafa and the fine crew at Monkeybrain. 

The winner for best digital/webcomic makes me so crazy that I can’t contain my rage without slamming my fists. That’s a joke right. Literally a joke. I’m so, so sorry for christophersebela, Ibrahim Moustafa and the fine crew at Monkeybrain. 

Archie Goodwin’s script to Batman: Night Cries, drawn by Scott Hampton, from Denny O’Neill’s DC Comics Guide to Writing.
I’ve been doing panel layouts in my cover jobs, because it helps me to frame the dialogue to direct the reader’s eye towards the next panel. Unlike prose, a comic script focuses on action rather than using your senses to describe a scene.

Archie Goodwin’s script to Batman: Night Cries, drawn by Scott Hampton, from Denny O’Neill’s DC Comics Guide to Writing.

I’ve been doing panel layouts in my cover jobs, because it helps me to frame the dialogue to direct the reader’s eye towards the next panel. Unlike prose, a comic script focuses on action rather than using your senses to describe a scene.

So: a voice. I am not so sure it is a voice as much as it is a cross-section between the story being channeled from the “outside” and a voice that is “inside,” both of which are ostensibly the same thing manifesting through different channels.

aleskot, responding to this question

I’m finding this to be very true right now. My voice shifts from what I’m reading, and what I’m aiming for in the—obviously external—writing. What a good response.

From brianmichaelbendis and sarapichelli's Guardians of the Galaxy #4, which I’m catching up on now on Marvel Unlimited, and there are so many wrong moments involving Rocket Raccoon in these issues like: “Ha! Murdered you!” That I can’t help but laugh and shake my head. 

From brianmichaelbendis and sarapichelli's Guardians of the Galaxy #4, which I’m catching up on now on Marvel Unlimited, and there are so many wrong moments involving Rocket Raccoon in these issues like: “Ha! Murdered you!” That I can’t help but laugh and shake my head. 

joekeatinge:


nympheline:
This is my favourite bookstore and bookseller in the world. Bar none.
I used to get to Seattle every six months or so, and whenever I visited I always made it a priority to stop in BLMF and ask its keeper what he’d been reading lately. He possessed an inexhaustible memory, a comfortable lack of snobbery, and impeccable taste. The first book he recommended to me, upon listening gravely to my litany of at-the-moment authors (Barbara Kingsolver, James Clavell, Maeve Binchy, Neil Gaiman, Charles DeLint, Anthony Bourdain) was Tipping the Velvet. He also later landed me with Geek Love, Anno Dracula, half the Aubreyad, and more modern Literature-with-a-capital-L than I could carry home.
The next-to-last time I dropped in, I asked if he had any P. G. Wodehouse.
"I have zero Wodehouse," he said, "and here’s why…"
Turned out that some fiend had taken to creeping in every month or so expressly to inquire of any Wodehouse and, once led to the volumes, to buy it all. ALL. Didn’t matter the condition, the edition, or whether he had another just like it in his possession; the villain bought every single P. G. Wodehouse in stock, every single time.
Was he a fan more comprehensive, more truly fanatical than any other I’d heard of, let alone known? Was he virulently anti-Wodehouse, only purchasing the books to keep their wry poison from infecting the impressionable masses? The world may never know.
I didn’t get any Wodehouse then, and I didn’t really feel the lack. I found plenty of other treasures that trip. But here’s one reason why BLMF and its proprietor are my favourite of their kind: that was two years ago, you see. Maybe three. In all that interim, I never planted foot in that bookshop. Never called. Never wrote. And I’m one face out of hundreds of thousands, dear reader; one reader he saw twice a year for three years, then not again for another three.
But I walked in the shop last Friday. Nodded hello.
"Can I help you find anything?" he asked, lifting his head from the phone.
"No, I’m good," I said.
"Wait—hold on a second." He set the phone down, walked ‘round the towers of books balanced precariously on the desk, on the floor, and atop other, only slightly less precarious towers. He jerked his head conspiratorially toward the far end of the shop, led me carefully to a shelf way in the back, removed a tattered stack of mass market paperbacks and motioned me closer to see what they’d been hiding.
Fifteen pristine Wodehouses: crisp, heavy, and—
“Hardcover,” he said, and waggled his eyebrows.
Reader, I bought them all.

File under: Why I Love Independent Book Stores. 

That is fantastic.

joekeatinge:

nympheline:

This is my favourite bookstore and bookseller in the world. Bar none.

I used to get to Seattle every six months or so, and whenever I visited I always made it a priority to stop in BLMF and ask its keeper what he’d been reading lately. He possessed an inexhaustible memory, a comfortable lack of snobbery, and impeccable taste. The first book he recommended to me, upon listening gravely to my litany of at-the-moment authors (Barbara Kingsolver, James Clavell, Maeve Binchy, Neil Gaiman, Charles DeLint, Anthony Bourdain) was Tipping the Velvet. He also later landed me with Geek Love, Anno Dracula, half the Aubreyad, and more modern Literature-with-a-capital-L than I could carry home.

The next-to-last time I dropped in, I asked if he had any P. G. Wodehouse.

"I have zero Wodehouse," he said, "and here’s why…"

Turned out that some fiend had taken to creeping in every month or so expressly to inquire of any Wodehouse and, once led to the volumes, to buy it all. ALL. Didn’t matter the condition, the edition, or whether he had another just like it in his possession; the villain bought every single P. G. Wodehouse in stock, every single time.

Was he a fan more comprehensive, more truly fanatical than any other I’d heard of, let alone known? Was he virulently anti-Wodehouse, only purchasing the books to keep their wry poison from infecting the impressionable masses? The world may never know.

I didn’t get any Wodehouse then, and I didn’t really feel the lack. I found plenty of other treasures that trip. But here’s one reason why BLMF and its proprietor are my favourite of their kind: that was two years ago, you see. Maybe three. In all that interim, I never planted foot in that bookshop. Never called. Never wrote. And I’m one face out of hundreds of thousands, dear reader; one reader he saw twice a year for three years, then not again for another three.

But I walked in the shop last Friday. Nodded hello.

"Can I help you find anything?" he asked, lifting his head from the phone.

"No, I’m good," I said.

"Wait—hold on a second." He set the phone down, walked ‘round the towers of books balanced precariously on the desk, on the floor, and atop other, only slightly less precarious towers. He jerked his head conspiratorially toward the far end of the shop, led me carefully to a shelf way in the back, removed a tattered stack of mass market paperbacks and motioned me closer to see what they’d been hiding.

Fifteen pristine Wodehouses: crisp, heavy, and—

Hardcover,” he said, and waggled his eyebrows.

Reader, I bought them all.

File under: Why I Love Independent Book Stores. 

That is fantastic.

One of Marvel's Avengers Turns to Sign Language - NYTimes.com →

mattfractionblog:

A small peak at next week’s HAWKEYE #19

Spoilers, i suppose.

Now this is an interesting way to show your work and how the issue came together. I’m excited to check it out. It’s too bad Hawkeye is coming to an end, but at least we managed to get this kind of awesome stuff.