I Perform "Perchance To Dream" by David Morrell

I got to narrate another lengthy piece over at Far-Fetched Fables, District o' Wonders's Fantasy podcast.  Have you checked them out?

It was "Perchance to Dream," by David Morrell, about a sleep therapist with a rather problematic new patient, one that struggles with more than just managing to sleep through the night.

This one as quite a challenge.  Not for anything technical (although I did have to say "Clonazepam" four or five times), but because I was a bit vague on what it all meant, hence, how to perform it.

So, I did something I've never done before (although maybe I once did asking Aeryn Rudel how to say his name): I contacted the writer to ask his opinion on how to perform it.  I recognized David Morrell's name from someplace, and realized that this was the guy who wrote The Name of the Rose and First Blood.  So, I guess I was lucky he emailed me back.

Even so, I'd be curious to find out what listeners to the story think it all means, since I came up snake eyes.

Oh, another thing I did on this.  There was a college in Georgia mentioned in the story, and rather than looking it up on YouTube, as I often do with town or celebrity names that may be pronounced a number of ways, I just called the school and asked how to say it.

Here's the link.  Sleep well!

Pilot Error

I know close to nothing about television, but it seems to me that a TV pilot is made for two reasons: 1) to sell a network on your show, or, if it's a put pilot, to show the network what the show will look and feel like, and 2) to hook as many viewers as it can from the very start.

Well, "Star Trek: Discovery" premiered this week, and as it was not only sold as a series to CBS, but was ostensibly going to be the flagship to CBS All Access (much like "Voyager" was for UPN what seems like two or three years ago, but was actually more than twenty), all it really had to do was number two.

Gosh, I was excited to watch this thing.  "Star Trek: Discovery" was so long delayed that my friend Jeff signed up for CBS All Access (their evil streaming service) in early 2016 and assured me we'd be able to see every episode that way (he did use it to watch "NCIS," though, so all was not entirely wasted).  Even though I only had to wait two days to watch it with my cousin, I was tempted a couple of times to just watch the first few minutes, just to whet my whistle.  Can't remember when I last anticipated a show that much.

Also, in the spirit of full disclosure, the gigantic, unscrupulous, no-tax-paying organization that used to own the channel the pilot aired on sold the station, so I was forced to watch it not only in Standard Definition, but in a cropped substandard definition that reminded me of how I used to watch TOS on Channel 20 adjusting rabbit-ears to try and get a clearer picture.

I really ought to sit down and watch it a second time, to fill out this review better.  But I won't.

So, there was a lot of positive in the pilot (called "The Vulcan Hello"): it looked good, must have cost a fortune, had lots of lenseflares, and was two-thirds in English.  But, as a longime Trek fan, it didn't speak to me, even less so than the Abrams movies (which were all quite enjoyable, say what you will about the scripts or treatment of the material).  And if you were a newcomer to the franchise . . . jeez, would you even be able to make heads or tails of this?

Aside from the ridiculously familiar main theme, there wasn't any moment where my heart swelled, knowing that THIS is "Star Trek:" positive, optimistic, fun Science Fiction with a lot of wonder thrown in.  Sure, there were wheelbarrows of diversity and conflict in this thing . . . but great, what else you got?

I didn't hate it, don't get me wrong.  But as the second reason stated above to make this pilot, it absolutely failed.  Not only am I not going to sign up for CBS All Access (something I considered doing once Jeff moved away, so that my cousin and I could watch it each week when we got together), but the episode, such as it was, ended on a cliffhanger, and I'm not even all that excited about watching the next one.

Part of that his due to the weirdness of the pilot's setup.  The ship and crew we are meeting here is not The U.S.S. Discovery.  It's a different ship, The Georgiu, with a different captain (though she does have a bit of noble gravitas).  It introduces TWO characters that will go on to be regulars on the rest of the series, and we don't even meet the ship or its captain in this first hour.  So why show just the first hour, why not show the introductory two hours, and let those who are hooked go on to greater adventures with the "real" ship and her valiant crew?

It's a brave, Psycho-like move to introduce a bunch of characters at the start and then kill them all off (which is what I assume happens in Part Two), but it doesn't work as an introduction to the world, characters, and series itself.  It's like one of those prequel novels you always find for big blockbuster movies now, where you can read all about where the characters came from, or how the universe got to be where it was the the movie's opening credits rolled.  And I kind of like reading those . . . but not before seeing the movie or knowing anything about it, and certainly not instead of.

Could we at least meet (and hopefully) like our new captain and starship, so we'll want to see these people again and find out where they're going?

I was actually tempted to scrap this blog post and, I don't know, go look for worms in the backyard or check to see if the internet has any gifs of Reese Witherspoon vomiting, but I'll make myself type just a little more.

It's funny how a little thing can bother you to the point where it starts to not feel like a little thing anymore.  I often use a friend of mine's dislike of SPIDER-MAN 2 due to its depiction of the isotope Tritium, but an example for me is the song "Come Dancing" by the Kinks.  It's a lovely, fun tune, with nostalgia and . . . and the following line:

"My sister should've come in at midnight,
And my mom would always sit up and wait;
It always ended up in a big row,
When my sister used to get home late."

And once I heard that line, and really heard it, I couldn't help but focus on that part, and how the inexplicable substitution of "row" for "fight" made the rhyme no longer work.  It frustrated me, then did more than that.  And today, I can't even listen to that song, even though it's such a little thing it should embarrass me to mention it on here today.  But it doesn't.

"Star Trek: Discovery" has a couple of those little things.  A lot of folks complaining online focused on the redesign of the Klingons, which seemed to take J.J. Abrams's reimagining of them in INTO DARKNESS (or the cool deleted scene in STAR TREK '09) and continued running, like Forrest Gump leaving the Touchdown line far behind.  This bugged a lot of people (and this is just one example; a lot of stuff bugged a lot of people), and though I tried to keep an open mind, I felt like a third of the episode focused on the subtitled machinations of these ugly, indistinguishable, personality-free creatures.*

The main character ( was hard to like.  It made me wonder if Spock himself could've been unlikable if he had been played by a different, less-charismatic actor.  I think he could have.  She came across as smug, impatient, brash, and a bit of an asshole.  She questioned her captain's orders in front of the crew after serving seven years under her, then physically attacks her in her ready room and lies to the crew about it?  Tom Paris did less than that on his whole run of "Voyager," and he got demoted and placed in the brig.  Obviously, we're supposed to like Burnham--she's our main character and this isn't the last season of "Breaking Bad"--but I wonder.

Okay, let me nickpick.  Her name is Michael.  Yeah, that fuggin' bothers me.  I know it's not entirely unheard-of (there was an actress on "e.r." called Michael Michele) and Bryan Fuller does it on all his shows, but dude, eff you.

And speaking of eff you, there has been a lot of talk that this new "Trek" wants nothing to do with the folks like me, that saw that borefest THE MOTION PICTURE in the theater, or were watching "Encounter At Farpoint" when it aired, or even a fan of 21th Century "Trek" before the reboot. I find that hard to believe, even having lived through the "This is not your father's Star Trek" era of the franchise.  But . . . well . . .

I did feel a little bit like the show was not for me, and that it would prefer not to have someone who knows what "Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra" means watching week to week.

The uniforms were pretty ugly and GALAXY QUESTy.  But there was a scene with the ship's doctor, and his uniform kicked ass, so I'm not even going to complain there.

Dammit, I've wasted too much time on this.  The kids went out and caught worms without me, and you guessed it, no luck on the Reese Witherspoon thing.

Oh, it wasn't the worst pilot I've ever seen (I remember one a few years ago starring Vera Farmiga that I hated so much, I sorta vowed never to watch anything with her in it after that.  Hell, I even had a hard time watching "American Horror Story" at first, because Taissa Farmiga was in it).  But it should've been engaging, should have been addictive, should have been moving.  Should have been "Star Trek."

Rish Tiberius Outfield

*Oh, so there's a white one.  Guess he's the one we're supposed to notice.  Still doesn't make him palatable to look at.

Rish Outcast 84: Sleeptalkin' Episode 2

So, here's the squeakquel to the last show, finishing up "Sleeptalkin' Gal."

You know, I really expected "squeakquel" to catch on as a saying . . . but it didn't.  Huh.

Actually, I don't know that this show is a sequel (squeaking or otherwise).  Is the third part of a mini-series a sequel?  Or the second part of a two-part "MacGuyver" episode?



Wanna download the episode directly?  Just Right-Click HERE!

Wanna back Rish's Patreon fund?  I just recorded two stories for just Patreon supporters.  HERE?

Wanna see a pic of Rish with Neil Patrick Harris?  Click HERE!

Mid-September Update

Man, I suck.

That is all.

Rish Outcast 83: Sleeptalkin' Episode

Rish presents most of his story "Sleeptalkin' Gal," then goes for a walk around the block to talk about dramatic beats.

A husband with a wife who talks in her sleep starts to pay attention to the things that she says . . . because there's something unexplainable going on every night around three.

I made the (rather arbitrary) decision to split this into two parts, so feel free to curse me in the comments below. Or hey, don't. Up to you.

Here's a link to the full story, if you wanna check it out.

Oh yeah, download this episode by Right-Clicking HERE!

And there's always Patreon.  And the sun.

"Magic Forest" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 License
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

September, Remember?

Shoot, am I still doing this accountability thing?  You realize that was a mistake, right?

Well, I do.

I think it's fair to say that I wrote every single day in August, because I tried to remind myself every night before I slept.  But that doesn't mean I wrote a great deal every day.  I believe the technical term for it is "half-assed."

Also, I was supposed to edit audio every single day.  And I did get a Dunesteef, a That Gets My Goat, two short stories, a Delusions of Grandeur, a Far-Fetched Fables, and three episodes of the Rish Outcast done (one of which is the longest, most dreaded episode since I started doing this thing, so that oughtta count for two).

I could have done more.  But if you don't feel the same way about your accomplishments . . . I am your mortal enemy.

Okay, I really don't know what to do in September.  I ought to write, I ought to edit, I ought to publish (and how), but I couldn't seem to find the gas in the tank to write this blog post, much less set any worthy goals for boring old September.

Wait, was there a band called September Death?  Am I remembering that right?  I don't know what that means or where it comes from, but what a cool name for a band.

So, I got this idea last weekend that I would drive up to the family cabin, sit down, and write five stories.  Five whole stories with beginnings, middles, and whatever comes after.  And they'd be done on that trip, by me, Mister Ambition.  Just stay there and force myself to write them until they were done.  I couldn't come back to civilization until--

Well, I didn't.  My brother showed up at about eleven in the morning, and I pretty much wrote the trip off on my taxes after that.

But I did write down four IDEAS for stories, and I started one of them that same day (the one that seemed easiest to finish, as I knew the ending beforehand).  I could choose that as a goal for the month: write all five in September, and be proud of myself . . . but to what end?  It's not like I'd actually do anything with these stories, and I do have those damn novellas in mid-progress.

But what the hey.  In September, I'm going to finish five stories.  May the Force be with us.

Rish Outf . . . ah, forget it.

Rish Outcast 82: To Thine Own Books Be True

Rish presents two episodes spliced together (one 2016 and one 2017) talking about only doing his own audiobooks from now on.  Part cautionary tale, part confession.

Warning: just a smidge of TMI.

Oh, I could have called this episode "Where's My Line Anyway?"  You're welcome to tell me where yours is.



Feel like downloading the episode directly?  Just Right-Click HERE.

Feel like supporting Rish with his Patreon?  Just go to this link.

Feel like taking your own life?  These guys can help.

August Check-In 3: The Last Stand

So, I did drive down to the family cabin again, and while it was nice, and I'd gladly do it again, I didn't get nearly as much done this trip as I did the last.  Last time, I started on a secret project (am I still keeping that a secret?) and was quite proud of myself, writing three or four thousand words on it.  This time, I opened up that document (literally on the same scene where I left off), and wrote about two hundred more words before deciding to do something else.

I did edit audio for a few hours, and I did read a great deal--which made it feel like a vacation rather than a writing retreat--and I did record an episode for the Greatest Day of the Year(TM), but all in all, it felt like I did less with more time.*  When I went down in July, I only brought one DVD with me, and when it was finished, I forced myself to write and edit again.  This time, I had planned ahead, and had a lot more to watch when that single DVD ran out.

Even so, I could have done worse.  I have still written every day this month, and edited audio every day as well.  I just need to do it more.

So, in my last check-in (and probably every podcast and blogpost for the past eight months), I mentioned the episode of The Rish Outcast I most dread.  Well, I spent a good long time working on it at the cabin, and it's nearly ready to go.  In my mind, it'll drop next month, in between "Sleeptalk" and "Romantic Interlude."  But wow, I am so not wanting to put it out.  Do I dare charge my Patreons for something like that, or do I have to simply turn off my brain when it comes to that and automatically charge for episodes, whether they're full of encouraging words and poor impressions or not?

This is apropos of nothing, but I took my nephew to a small town festival last month, and while I had a good time, it was a hundred degrees out, and he liked it less than I did.  The one thing he was impressed by, of all the crafts and costumes and wares being sold and at least one Goth chick with lots of pale cleavage, was a booth where they were raffling off a Nintendo Switch, and if you entered, they'd give you a free fidget spinner.  So, I tossed the guy a buck, filled out a ticket, and, ignorantly gave the guy my email address (he said it was necessary to let us know if we'd won the Nintendo).

My nephew was pretty thrilled with the fidget spinner, and I'll admit that I found it pretty darn fascinating as well (about on the same level as pale-college-student-dressed-as-vampire-cleavage, at least at first) . . . but then, a couple of days later, I started getting spam in my email box.  And not just one or two, which is forgivable, but I just looked, and there were five in my box today, and it's only 9:35 in the morning.

I'm half tempted to write a scene where Lara Demming's sister does this, keeps getting spam, and Lara complains to Old Widow Holcomb about it.  So Holcomb teaches her a "harmless curse of inconvenience" that the girl casts on the spammers.  Later, Lara sees on the news that a local businessman, who sets up booths at town celebrations obtaining email addresses and then selling them overseas, has drowned himself in his own toilet.  "I wonder if he flushed first," the anchorman's partner asks, flashing white teeth.

Lara feels uneasy about this, but chalks it up to a coincidence, or something totally unrelated . . . not knowing that over a dozen others in Bangladesh also drowned themselves in the crapper.

Sigh.

Rish Outfield, Chalupa Guy

*I had made a point of arriving earlier and leaving later than I did the time before, but the only really efficient use of my time is when I fell asleep at one-thirty, and woke when it was still dark, trying to go back to sleep, and ultimately giving up and turning on the light (it was four-twenty-one) to read my book again until I feel asleep.  And when I did, I still woke up as soon as the sun hit me, despite setting my alarm for what I consider to be pretty darn early.  I don't know why the cabin does that to me.  Maybe the bed is just that uncomfortable.

Rish Outcast 81: Have It Your Way

Rish (and Fake Sean) present the short story "Have It Your Way," which Rish may have written (he doesn't remember).  Narrated by Special Guest Star Tena Kolakowsi.  

Be a sport and download the episode by Right-Clicking HERE.

Oh, to purchase Rish's first collection of audio fiction, go to this link.

And to purchase Rish's second collection of audio fiction, go to this link.

Nothing Much To Say, Nothing Much To Say

So, this is the first week in a long time (maybe months?) that I haven't posted an episode of the Rish Outcast (either for the Patreon supporters or on my blog).  I guess that I was busy, going to the cabin and driving out of state to see the swallowing of the sun (not to mention taking time out of each day to feel sorry for myself), but that's not really an excuse.  Ostensibly, I could be in a full-body cast and still post episodes for a month at least.  Sigh.

Anyway, yesterday I worked on a film project with Kevin Costner.  I've been a fan of his for many years, and was sitting around talking about his career, like DANCES WITH WOLVES, and WATERWORLD, and FIELD OF DREAMS, and ROBIN HOOD: PRINCE OF THIEVES, and somebody even brought up OPEN RANGE (which I dragged my poor buddy Matthew to on opening night*).  

Then, of course, somebody brought up THE UNTOUCHABLES, and I was suddenly tempted to walk up to Costner and say, "You wanna get Capone, here's how you do it.  He pulls a knife, you pull a gun.  He puts one of your men in the hospital, you put one of his in the MORGUE!"

But I was too much of a coward.  

He seemed like a very nice dude, and thanked the extras when he went home (directors rarely do that, let alone the stars), but you never know how the star of FANDANGO would would react to a stranger approaching him to do his Sean Connery impression.  He might find it hilarious, but he might find it creepy, or worse, an invasion of his privacy.**

Heck maybe it would sound creepy, no matter how good my Connery is.

I mentioned this to Marshal Latham and he reminded me that Costner also played Pa Kent in MAN OF STEEL, and it all came tumbling down.  It's a good thing Marshal hadn't been around to talk about that, because all my admiration for Mr. Costner would've turned to bitterness.

"Thanks," Marshal.

Rish "That's The Chicago Way" Outfield

*He was the only Jewish black guy in the whole theater.  Or pretty much anywhere we went, come to think of it.

**Like that time I was on the Sony lot in 1998 and asked Tom Bosley if I could shake his hand and he told me to go eat a bag of (uncircumcised) dicks.  Oddly specific, in retrospect, that request was.

August Check-in 2: Freddy's Revenge

You are all my children now!

I have continued to write every day, but I've had no impressive, marathon writing sessions to boast about.  I went to the library twice last week and once this week, but I use that time to type up my novella (and today, the craptop froze on me, and when I restarted it, found that I had lost about a quarter of the stuff I'd typed), so it helps you not at all.

Wait a minute, NONE of this stuff helps you.  Whoops, I had my priorities way off.

But good old Taco Bell, I did go there on Sunday and force myself to write after I had eaten my Double Chalupa (I was the only customer), and I did manage to finish a short story I've been meaning to write since 2015.  It ain't good, but I had to do it now, or I knew I'd never write it.*

I booked work on a TV show last week, and was looking forward to it, not only because I've always enjoyed that kind of work, but because I knew I could use it to write for an hour or six.  But I ended up losing the gig three days later, to much bitterness and self-recrimination.  I had a second chance booking to do it again this week, and then never got a text or a call about it, and no response to my emails . . . which makes me think it's not me, but that the casting director is, how you say in English, part of donkey what makes urine?

But I might drive up to the cabin and sequester myself again, see if that might not be productive and/or enjoyable.  We'll see.

My other goal this month has been to work on audio every single day, and I honestly don't know if I've missed any days.  I think not, since I worked on a Dunesteef episode, a That Gets My Goat, a Delusions of Grandeur, and the most dreaded of the Rish Outcasts, all in the last week.  I've also nearly finished recording my silly Fantasy story with the ridiculous title.  In fact, that's what I was about to work on when I started writing this blog.  I'm not sure if I'll do it now.

Ah well.  At least I did this.

Rish Outfield

*I heard that a project very similar is coming out in the fall, and I'm not sure if I'd forgive myself if I waited until that was out there without at least having TRIED to write my own version.  I probably ought to record a podcast about that sometime, about where the line between "Influenced By" and "Ripped-off" is.
For example, I started reading a book a couple of months back, and something about it reminded me about an idea kind of like it I had had a couple of years ago, but abandoned it after writing the first couple of pages.  So, I unearthed that, and started writing it again (this the YA project I keep mentioning).  It's not going extremely well, but I'm still working on it.
Unfortunately, this week I started reading the second book in the series, and it is so very similar to my YA book, that even I am wondering if I'm just writing a third-rate knock off of it.  It's a little discouraging, whereas reading the first book was quite encouraging.  I wish I could be one of those people who writes a book that's just "Raiders of the Lost Ark" but with high school students (straight down to mathletes as Arabs and football jocks as Nazis), and never even blink an eye.  But I'm not, you know what I mean?
Or "Star Wars" with teenagers, or "Harry Potter" but with American (teenagers), or "The Last Starfighter" but with American teenagers, or "The Silence of the Lambs" but in middle school, etc..