In a week where I’ll begin a short term, slightly dubious job, it’s time to continue talking about Writing a Book. But, see, there’s some connective sinew here. There’s reason to all this rambling, there usually might be, and here we go.

Writing a book often becomes a full-time job. And not only just the writing, mind you. The research, interviews, and outlining process might be the most difficult of all as you attempt to create from the air something. Once you get all that down, the book probably isn’t as difficult. That is, unless you’re writing like a jerk (Jack Kerouac). The truth is, once you have your break through, once the story starts to run, you’re able to work on it in your spare time. And that’s what the next few months have in store for me. For, you see, I have acquired a day job.

And what a terrifying omen that may bring. Since we arrived here in Seoul, I was terrified at the prospect of having to teach or work in an office again because working in an office and teaching aren’t for everyone (especially not me). And even though I did try and apply and go in for interviews with schools here, things didn’t work to much great disappointment (WOOOOOOO!). In that time I was able to research, perform interviews, and create a solid outline for the book – as stated above – and focus on the creation process. The birth of an idea. But now, poppa needs a day job.

Why? Well, I’m married and we’re struggling. Living in a large city has massive advantages in its brilliant public transportation and equally massive disadvantages in the price of a box of cereal. But you pay anyway because, hell, living in Seoul is incredible. So, after floundering, without fault on my end, for seven months, I packed it in and focused again on finding work. And not just because we need the money. It has far more to do with being an adult and not being a “layabout”.

Of course, most people of my generation, Generation Meh, would love nothing more than to be inactive, video game playing, corrugated potato chip eating philistines, but that’s childish and, lets face it, not my MO. Having lifted myself out of my desk chair and detached my brain stem from my USB port (I’ll miss you data) it feels a lot like failure. Like I’ve given up on the book and wasted all that time and might not actually get the thing done, but that’s where a schedule, determination, and a loving kick in the ass by your wife comes in. Because no one wants you to have wasted time more than your wife…she’ll kill you for it…she knows you’re afraid.

There’s very little to get to here and a lot of time to get to it.  That’s what I keep telling myself so it doesn’t seem like I’m lazy.

Anyway, the gears of my brain and time and space and the vastness of the interwebbings are working in tandem for the first time in a while.  What’s that, you say?  Well, I’ve been busy at work on this here graphic novel for the better part of three months.  Reading, researching, crying, writing, crying some more, outright weeping, and now, success.  Problem is, I can’t tell you about it yet.  It’s a secret.  For at last the next month.  Then I’ll tell you all about it.  And you’ll all be happy in your little happy hats.

With that said, I can offer up the following information: the book hasn’t been halted, it’s been transformed, in a manner of speaking.  Also, there has been a vast change in the production, people translating and lettering it.  It went from a book I was concerned would never be penciled, inked, colored, and birthed into something that, at this very moment, looks incredibly pretty.  Oh.  So. Pretty.

So yeah, more will be disseminated in the coming weeks and month.  Maybe little pearls of awesome will find their way onto this very page.  Who knows?  I don’t…probably.

Bye!

This will be a brief post because it’s yoga night, there’s Lost to be watched, and dinner to be made.  Today’s topic is scheduling and how important it is for any writer ever.

Anyone can pick up a book on keeping a schedule.  There are hundreds of thousands, flooding the market.  Books on scheduling your time in the office, home office, and freelance writing to name a few categories.  But, while writing a book can fall into one or all three of these categories, there’s something different for the creative types.  Something that comes with trial and error and that most books don’t often help.  I want to talk about scheduling the specific, creative moments that kick up the wind in the sails and cruise any writer and/or creative person toward their end point.

Now, I would be remiss if I didn’t give credit to my wife, who helped me to develop a fair and balanced schedule to maximize both my writing and researching.  Without her gentle nudging and loving understanding, I’m not writing this book, I’m playing Plants vs Zombies or Peggle or generally being lazy.  Because, the truth is, every creative person needs those moments of unwind or meditative zen, uninterrupted spaces where he/she can cleanse their minds of the book or whatever you’re working on and be a reed.  I took a class in college called ‘Contemplative Writing’ – one of the best and most beneficial writing courses I’ve ever taken – where we exercised various methods of meditating or simply allowing the ideas to come to you.  After all, when you fight with your brain (writer’s block), you’re going to lose.  It’s best to release yourself, take the ego out of the equation and simply let your subconsciousness or the ether of the universe or spirituality or whatever you believe in dust off the captain’s chair and correct course.

Recently, I took two weeks off from writing my graphic novel.  It wasn’t the best idea, but, having fought with a single scene for over a week, I decided I needed some time to not think about it.  So, I wrote a 3-page story and became heavily invested in the aforementioned Plants vs Zombies.  The first thing, the 3-pager, was a great idea.  I was able to put the big book to the side and allow the other ideas that had been calcifying in the back of the ocean of my mind (must keep the metaphor together) out.  And it was great.  The story turned out great and I had another short story that is currently being “arted” into existence, by the fabulous Kira Slaught, to show the world how versatile my writing is.  The other part, the Plants vs Zombies part, was defeatist.

I follow a lot of comic book writers on the Twitters, and all too often I hear them talk about playing a new video game.  At first it was Call of Duty 152 or which ever number they’re on (I’ve never played it) and switched to others, but one thing was clear to me, video games were helping writers.  The problem was, I wasn’t following all writers and found very quickly, in my own experience, that video games are neither going to help me tap into my ignored subconscious nor help me get my brain back into writing the book.  It took me out in a big way, and now I’m behind my self appointed schedule. (You thought I would never get back to the schedule thing, huh?  Ye of little faith)

But it wasn’t all bad, this weekend, Lindsay and I went to Gyeongbok Palace and the National Folk Museum and, by doing some hands on research, my on-board, creative motor was operational yet again (I will milk the metaphor, oh yes).  And I guess that’s the point: schedules are flexible.  They’re to be created and cater to each person; because, no matter how many experts tell you that playing a video game or taking a walk with their dog helps their brain reset, it’s not the same for everyone.  All creative types, however, need – and I can’t stress that enough – to struggle and fail with different schedules and methods of fixing their sails in order for their creative process to work right.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a painting to research…but first, a quick game of Plants vs Zombies…I hate you, brain.

As I continue writing stories and prepare for a larger project to come to fruition I felt as though today was as good a day as any to relax, edit some personal video, and write a blog entry.  But what to write about…  I could, as I promised a while ago, continue with another post about the writing of a graphic novel, but where’s the fun in that?  After all, my readers love to be lead around like this.  So, I decided to write something a long time coming: I am not Richard David Precht.

I am, however, David Faroz Precht.  And, while I am half-German, I am not this gentleman.

That’s not to say I’m not impressed with Richard’s status.  Today, for the first time, I decided to look him up on wikipedia and read some lovely things about how he’s written two novels and three pieces of non-fiction and even the incredible fact that we were in the same city when he did his fellowship at the Chicago Tribune.

It’s simply that I wanted to clarify my presence here on the internets.  Also, because nearly two years ago I received an email from a great admirer of Richard Precht’s.  After Lindsay decoded the German it was in, I found that the letter was a heart-felt thank you to Richard for writing a book, the title of which we couldn’t figure out.  He talked about his childhood and how reading Richard’s book reminded him of his former life.  The problem was that Lindsay and I were reading it and not Richard David Precht.

There’s no doubt that after I responded, explaining that while I appreciated the letter I was not him, he might have been so timid as to blush or, as so many German’s do, bury his shameful feeling (it’s not shameful) inside.

So, again, I am not Richard David Precht but David Faroz Precht.  I’ve decided to use my middle name for this very reason, to differentiate us.  To make sure this sort of event doesn’t happen again because while I appreciated the email, I felt odd knowing that such confusion were possible.  Also, since I’m also a writer, this sort of thing will undoubtedly happen again.  So why not provide some kind of fail safe?

The next posts will deal with the writing of a graphic novel…I promise… (Since we moved to Seoul, I’ve used emoticons much more…Koreans love emotions)

I’ll kick this off, finally, with something that has been on my mind a lot lately: hope and motivation.

There’s this phenomenon with creative types where they need to keep themselves going.  That’s to say, when everything around them is crushing or there’s little to be excited or have faith in but something keeps them going.  Fuels them.

I’ll explain what I mean in the form of a story:
Nearly a year ago, I finally graduated from college.  When I left, I was flown out to Nashville by Devon and Golriz of the fantastic site SoulPancake.com to work on content and help them manage their volunteer work force.  While there, I saw Dev’s drive and passion for the site.  He stayed up until two in the morning to make sure work was edited and ready for release the next day and pushed himself to wake up early to witness each posts response.

At some point, I thought I might be able to get a job out of SoulPancake.  That I’d be able to, eventually, earn some money from editing or some such work. When I first arrived in Nashville the prospect of a job was suggested to Devon.  He told me that he absolutely expected SoulPancake to earn money, that it would have cash flow from sponsors and other avenues within the next few months and that I would be one of the first to get paid.  This pushed me to do everything I could for the site.  The problem was, it didn’t happen.

Before I left, I wanted to know that this job possibility was still there.  On my second to last day I had a conversation with Golriz about their situation.  In the shadow of their trampoline, she told me that while she had complete faith in Devon and the growth seen on the site, it would be irresponsible to believe that she’d be paid.  After all, the economy wasn’t doing well and advertisers weren’t giving money out to everyone.

I eventually asked why she and Devon pushed themselves so hard if they knew it wouldn’t produce any monetary fruit and she explained that Devon had to.  If he didn’t believe that, eventually, things would work out the site would invariably never have been made or launched.  If he didn’t have faith that writers were talented and capable, it would have been a similar situation.  It was his faith and blind hope that drove the site, and now, it’s remarkably successful with a book on the way.

That might be a difficult concept for a lot of people to understand.  Throwing yourself headlong into a project with the knowledge that it could blow up in your face isn’t logical.  It’s the opposite.  And yet, I’m doing it right now.

I’ve been working on this graphic novel fr the last four months.  I’ve pushed myself by looking at a 6-page short comic I wrote as my motivation thinking, “if this 6-pager is published, publishers will read it and be more likely to give me a change.”  And it kept me going.  I wrote the 6-pager and, when it was done and edited, focused again on the graphic novel.  Now, two chapters in, things have started to fall apart.

There are problems with the artist, and I’m not sure if he’ll finish any of the work he agreed to. I spent two days wallowing in self-pity, talking with Lindsay about how horrible things were and how I should just give up, but somewhere inside me a loud voice responded, “Write the damn thing.”  Despite the anger that I deservedly feel, I want to continue.  I have to.  If I don’t stick my fingers in my ears and shout everything will be drowned out by the overwhelming prospect of failure.  And failure will not happen.  I don’t care if this 6-page story isn’t published.  I’ll try a different venue and a different artist.  I don’t care if the first six publishers shoot down the 6-pager and the graphic novel because someone, eventually, will read it and recognize what I’m trying to do.

Is it egotistical to think this way?  Of course it is.  But, really, there’s nothing else I or nearly anyone else with a dream can do but think we’re awesome and capable and that our idea is worth it.  Because, without that ego, we would sit in cubicles like I used to and bemoan the opportunity we let split.  And I’ve already spent six years in cubicles, working at jobs I had no desire to be doing.  It’s time to buckle down.  My stories will be published, dammit.  Not because I think so, but because they’re pretty damned good.  And when that day comes, I’ll feel vindicated for all my slamming into walls and verbose prose and pontifications.

This is what creative people have to do to keep themselves sane and get work done, put on the blinders, have faith in yourself, and hope.

On the heels of the intended content relaunch for this site, I was diagnosed with a gastric ulcer.  So, that derailed all my efforts.  A week of eating nothing but vegetables and rice is nearly at an end and my stomach is finally quieting down.

This derailment doesn’t mean I won’t be writing about the book I’ve been working on or the process, it just means that I’ll be focusing on getting healthy – I’m on the road – before dedicating myself.  It’s not what I wanted, but what ever is?

With all that said, I just want to tell whomever it is that reads this blog that I’m doing better and should be blogging consistently this week; also, writing a script for a book.  That’s it for now.  Night eastern hemisphere!

I’ve decided on a new aspect for this blog: the process of writing a book.

The whole blog won’t just be this, of course, but I’d like to focus on it a bit more than anything else…anything else being that I haven’t written anything at all for quite some time.  As well, it’ll allow me to exercise one of the pillars of what I’d like to talk about, exercising.  So, without further adieu, here’s what I’m thinking…

This may start out as a rambling, incoherent mess as I’ve just woke up and my faculties aren’t completely with me but what the heck, it’s a blog after all, not the Wall Street Journal.

I am writing a book, a series of books, actually, about Korea, Asian culture, and how some of the tenants of Asian culture have found their way into the western world and vice versa.  It’s a subject I’ve been thinking a lot about since we arrived here in Seoul and one that I think will interest some people.  The story is about a Kyopo, someone of Korean descent who was raised and grew up with a Korean family somewhere else.  So as to say, a guy whose family left Korea in the early 20th century and moved to the U.S. is a Kyopo.  It’s a far more universal concept than the Korean word allows, but it’s great that such a word exists.

See, my mom’s from Tehran, Iran.  She fled the country in the 70s for the U.S. and has never returned.  So, I’m a Kyopo of Iran, I guess.

Anyway, the story will focus on several characters, many of which are Kyopos, both going back to their native lands and dealing with those feelings of being reattached to something missing.  A reunion to a past unknown, of sorts.

Now that I’ve given you the most basic summary of the story, I’d like to address the actual nature of what I’m trying to do here.  See, I just had this conversation with my wife about how things were structured at CSU’s (Colorado State University) journalism department.  Not only were students taught how to write and edit stories, but also the process of being a successful writer.  There were lessons about how to write a letter introducing an article you wrote to publishers and how to file for taxes as a free lancer, and I realized I had none of that.  Perhaps I took the wrong classes – I don’t think so – but there’s something of absolute importance in understanding the realities of writing and the business of writing.  All to often folks talk about how they’ll be writing a novel, sit down, and try to write one without understanding basic ideas and tenants of structure, outlining, and theme.  It’s a problem, so I understand it, that definitely takes place in grad schools but should be addressed in your undergrad.  After all, some of us couldn’t, and still can’t, afford to attend graduate school but still have the talent and ideas to write a book.

That said, I’ll give you a list of some of the topics I’d like to address in the coming months:
The business of writing
Structure of the outline
Motivation
Schedules
Planning
The creative process is won through devotion and pushing yourself
Practice, and don’t stop even if he ideas aren’t coming
Taking breaks are necessary
Reading as research
Reading as exercise
Writing outside of the book
Multiple stories at the same time

This list will expand as I get started and I’d love to receive comments and suggestions from people in the notes ares.

It should also be noted that my process – so as to say, everything I will be writing about within this context – will be focused on writing a graphic novel and not simply a “traditional” novel.  The process, I’m sure, varies in many ways, but I’m guessing that generally they’re much the same.  Also, because of those differences, there’s something specialized and focused for a different set of people.  There are tons of books and blogs about writing books, but few about writing a graphic novel…especially written by me.

All right, so that’s the plan.  I’ll be writing my first post tomorrow are part of my warm ups for the days work.  All posts will be shot over to twitter and my facebook page, so as to alert as many people as possible to my jabbering.

Thanks, and I look forward to writing and reading your responses.

Over the last month I’ve caught up on a lot of comics reading.  The reason being, I went to Fukuoka, Japan, have been sick, and was lazy.

The main books I was and will be focusing on are Batman by Grant Morrison and Captain America by Ed Brubaker.  First off, I would like to state, without question, Morrison and Brubaker are two of the best writers in the industry.  Morrison creates these expansive worlds and plots that refuse to maintain any kind of commonly thought structure and Brubaker embodies the new noir movement that permiates fiction right now.

With that said, the following ramble came about after I finished reading ‘Batman & Robin’ #10 and realized that both the Batman and Captain America story lines seemed parallel.  By this point, both Batman and Captain America were killed off, replacements found, and have now, I’m guessing for the reason that you can’t have Batman and Captain America without the identities we have all grown accustomed to (which I disagree with completely), either returned or are in the midst of being found and returned.

I’ll do my best not to provide too many spoilers as I’m not sure how many people are actually reading the books – I would highly suggest picking up both the ‘Batman: RIP’, ‘Death of Captain America’ and subsequent stories.  Carrying on…

I’m annoyed that the story, as it seems, of Bruce Wayne’s return as a more fleshed out version of Steve Roger’s. The death of Captain America was a huge deal and a fantastic story. Even the subsequent books: Bucky taking the reigns and trying to live up to Cap’s legacy/forge his own. That’s a wonderful story line that could have been sustained as a B-story and underlying theme for several years. To have Cap come back so quickly, around a year, seems too reactionary. I didn’t feel comfortable with Bucky as Cap yet, in spite that the characters of the Marvel universe seemed to believe so, and wanted to see him struggle more.

Just like any person in the real world, death takes a while to deal with.  Pain hits you in different intervals or situations and there is nearly no way to predict when you’ll be reminded of that loved one and mourn them again.  And those stories are interesting.  Seeing Bucky, in the middle of combat, be called Captain America for the first time by his enemy would bring about a viseral reaction, and that’s interesting to see.

Now with the return of Bruce Wayne, I have similar feelings. Grayson as Batman is far more interesting. It’s the classic son becomes the father instead of friend becomes the hero story line from Captain America with the added twist that Wayne’s son, Damien (too many characters named Damien in the Batman universe), has taken on the reigns as Robin and believes he has what it takes to solve Wayne Enterprise’s financial issues. Damien is dark and brooding, like Bruce, while Grayson is far more optimistic about life. He wasn’t effected as much by the negativity and pain that gravitated toward Bruce as Robin, but I feel as though, over time, that pain will happen. Grayson will become jaded, angry, and brooding having to deal with the mantle of Batman. Conversely, Damien could very easily take on more of Grayson’s optimistic air.

That’s a story line I want to see. Progress. I want to see new characters go through life changes. Bruce Wayne will always be dark and brooding, Captain American will always be a boy scout, but with Grayson and Bucky we have a chance to see new characters forging their own paths independently of their predecessors.  That, those changes in character and the dynamics of life, make stories great.  And that is life.

I’ve been reading people’s complaints about Lost and feel I must chime in. After all, if there are to be this many detractors, someone has to come to its aid.

Lost has, since immediately after season 1, completely gone off the rails. I don’t mean that in the sense that story or suspense has become too much or purposefully attempted to jump any sharks. What I mean is that people’s obsession with the show has gone from any other show to obsession. People have decided that instead of remembering that it is entertainment to it becoming a very large part of their lives. This, I cannot understand.

I live for stories. I thrive when I hear them, I feel energized when I’m writing them, and Lost is a fantastic example of what great storytelling can become. But they’re just that: stories. They mean only as little or as much as we put into them.

At first, the show was simply a show. The show runners didn’t seem to think of it as anything more than that. That is, until the internet showed them what they were missing. Bloggers began aggregating hypothesis and considering establishing a conference for like minded Lost fans to talk and pontificate. This show became more about questions and thoughts than simply storytelling with questions and answers.

It’s at this moment, I surmise, that the writers and producers realized they could have a goliath on their hands. They jumped at the chance to feed those bloggers, to create a podcast that spawned other podcasts, and helped to create what was called the ‘Lost Experience’, an adjoining product that would provide depth to the Lost universe.

As a money making venture Lost became a powerhouse, but as a story it ebbed and flowed. There was a time during season 3 that the show lost much of it’s fanbase and viewership. Viewers claimed the show, the storyline and not any adjoining material, became watered down, and opted for different programming. Me? I was one of those.

Mostly because I became restless and annoyed with how the story seemed to have taken a back seat to melodrama instead of the complaints that there were “too many questions, not enough answers”. In that exodus, I was with the first camp. But the show improved. I picked up where I left off, watching what I missed commercial-free, and the show became great again. How did it become great? It returned to the structure that producer J.J. Abrams so lauds: the Mystery Box Model.

Abrams believes that there’s something innately delicious in not knowing something and wanting to learn. He plays with our tendency toward discovery and fascination with the unknown and it paid off. Just as the show began with questions, the show continued with questions. However, as mentioned above, there was a large camp of people who loathed the massing questions. They cried out when new questions were unveiled and no answers were provided. Their impatience was understandable, after all, because the mystery box had begun encompassing and bleeding into all media.

Last season the show was able to pump out not only answers to questions but a sustained rise and fall structure that made viewing it like reading a mystery novel. I reveled in the questions, trying to piece things together, and the season finale was one of the most inventive cliffhangers every conceived; something the show is well known for.

I’m a fan of the questions, and sometimes I like to think about them while I watch the show and devise my own answers; knowing full well I’ll probably be wrong. This season, my viewing experience changed. I started watching it for what it was, recognizing that it’s just a television show, albeit a brilliantly choreographed one, and enjoying it simply for that. Mostly, my analytic brain was turned off and I thought about the storytelling that was being presented to me. And it was great. It picked off directly where it left off. Not only do I feel the intensity from the season finale, it’s been ratcheted up.

And now I’m left with the complaints that people have. Those vocal watchers who say “enough is enough” with the questions, and why do Jack, Kate, and Sawyer continue to follow blindly what the Others say based only on trust like the analogues people refuse to draw obvious connections to? To those things I say, calm down. Most of you complain as if your voice are the only ones heard by producers. Sure, there are plenty of you angry but there are just as many, if not more, that love the show and will continue watching because they value it as entertainment, entertainment that they can control. Because they remember that they have the ability to turn the tv off.

Sure, I realize its been a while since I’ve written a post, and I’m hoping to get back to weekly drops in the infinite, but I wanted to leave something for you all to listen to.  The Invisible Fish is an indie artist from Seoul, South Korea that last.fm found for me today.  He’s in the vein of Sigur Ros and Mogwai; a kind of folk strummed on an acoustic guitar with electronic, atmospheric background swells.  Truly beautiful and haunting.

I’ll slap the page again with something longer tomorrow, but in the meantime, enjoy the ‘Through the Glass Wall’ EP streaming here. (Note: the controller can be found near the middle of the post)