Issue XXIX
Concerning a NaNoWriMo bullet storm, Killer Klowns from Outer Space, & the man upstairs...
From the Desk of William Pauley III
It’s the last weekend before Halloween. Man, October went fast. It always does. Pretty soon it’ll get cold and snowy and awful… it’s right around the corner. Get yer boots on, people.
Earlier this week I made the very stupid decision to participate in this year’s NaNoWriMo. Why is that stupid? Because I’m barely keeping up with my writing goals as it is! To tell the truth, I’ve been falling behind these last few weeks. To add even more to my plate—especially, a 50,000 word novel—is just… well, stupid. I will fail miserably. Crash and burn, likely right around takeoff.
And the best part is, you can watch as the flames consume me!
Paid subscribers can follow my progress here (also accessible through the paid subscriber portal, for your convenience). I’ll be updating my progress daily. These updates will NOT be emailed, so you’ll have to access them through the portal.
This isn’t my first time participating in NaNoWriMo. I’ve actually done it so many times now I can’t give an exact number. I’ve only successfully completed it once, if memory serves me (hey, I’ve been writing for a couple decades now… my mind is nothing more than a bubbly mess of melted VHS tapes and cigarette ashes at this point. I’m just as surprised as you that I’m even still able to do this shit, let alone remember all of everything I’ve done).
That one successful project was the first Doom Magnetic book. No, it’s not 50,000 words, but I’d set a different goal for myself that year, AND THAT’S OKAY. The point of this exercise is to empty your mind, to get every last idea out of your head and onto the page so you can eventually sculpt it and mold it into what you need it to be. Word count means nothing. Just DO SOMETHING.
What I did that particular year was come up with set of chapter titles, then forced myself to think of a scenario that would 1) do the title justice, and 2) push my story forward in some way. This made things get real weird real fast. It was a blast to write, cause I never knew where my characters would take me next. I wrote the two sequels in the same manner (and The Brothers Crunk, as well). I think the fun comes through in the text, at least I hope it does.
Every other November, I believe I just contributed to a project I was already working on, hoping to make a little bit of progress that I wouldn’t have made had I not taken the challenge. In that respect, I suppose I was successful every year, because I did end up writing at least a few thousand more than I would’ve otherwise.
And that’s the point.
That’s why I chose not to skip out this year, despite my already overwhelming workload. Because I keep having ideas… they never stop. It’s like a running faucet. I try not to let any of it go down the drain. Half my life is dedicated to scribbling bullshit down in some notebook somewhere, collecting ideas to sort through later. They’re not all good ideas. Many of them don’t make any sense by the time I return to them. The nonsensical things I write in those books haunt me, in a way, cause they end up swirling around inside my brain until I finally make sense of them. Most of the time, they never find meaning, so they just continue to float there, like a lost soul, dripping with ectoplasm.
White fuzz, white fuzz, WHITE FUZZ.
Which brings me to my goal for this year’s project: simply to rid my brain of all this buzzing. I’m not going to tell a story. I’m not going to focus on narrative at all. Every day I will sit at a computer for 30 minutes to an hour and type everything that comes to my mind—no filter, no goals, just a big fucking mess. Hopefully some (most) of it will be salvaged by finding a home in some future project, but I’ll worry about cleaning up later. Right now, all I’m thinking about is spilling it out onto the page. A mind dump. Brain vomit. A NaNoWriMo bullet storm.
Sounds fun, right?
Guess we’ll see! The project will start November 1st and last until the 30th. If you’ll be working on your own projects, feel free to share them with me so we call all follow each other’s progress. If you’re not a writer, but always wanted to tell your own story, there’s no better time than the present… something to think about.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this week’s newsletter!
Swing You Sinners
Last Week / This Week
FULL MOON SALE! Today (Oct 28th), all books in the DOOM FICTION store will be 50% off! One day only! Use promo code: HITME at checkout for discount.
BOOK EVENT: Today (Oct 28th), we’ll be slingin’ DOOM over at Villainous Pub in Lexington, KY from 6pm to 10pm. Come out and have a beer or three! This is one of our favorite events to do. Hope to see you there!
NetGalley published a case study on the success of The Ballad of Old Joe Booth! You can check that out here.
ALL SUBSCRIBERS: You have 2 more days to listen to “The Plant People” before it goes behind the paywall! Listen to it here. On this week’s episode of Storytime!, Connor Brannigan will be reading another story from my new book, Twelve Residents Dreaming. Be sure to check out “The Burden of Lunar Ticking” when it drops on Monday!
PAID SUBSCRIBERS: This week on Choose Your Own Mindfuck: A Night in Eighth Block Tower, you made yet another bad choice… you ended up beaten half to death and stranded outside a Waffle House just outside Atlantic City, New Jersey. Lucky for you, you have another chance to redeem yourself! Don’t forget to vote on where we go next. See you on Tuesday!
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Oddities Theater
Killer Klowns from Outer Space is a 1988 American science fiction horror comedy film written, directed and produced by the Chiodo Brothers, and starring Grant Cramer, Suzanne Snyder, John Allen Nelson and John Vernon. It is the only film written and directed by the Chiodo Brothers, who also created the practical effects and makeup.
Synopsis: Aliens who look like clowns come from outer space and terrorize a small town.
The October Country, Pt. 5
For the final installment of this series, I’ll be focusing on one of Bradbury’s most bizarre stories, The Man Upstairs. If you’re familiar with Bradbury’s work (by now, I’m sure you are), then seeing how far he pushes the narrative into the grotesque will surely come as a surprise. This story is downright gross! Especially the things he leaves to our imagination. And you know what? The more I think about it, the more I love it.
But anyone can write a gross story. One of the grossest things I’ve ever heard was told to me by a four-year-old, so I know it doesn’t take intellect or much effort to compose a story that’s meant to solely gross a reader out. We all know the things we find to be gross. Talking about it in story form doesn’t make for a talented writer, no matter how successful they may be. The art of the grossout is achieved through subtleness, in knowing when to hide and when to reveal. It’s carefully woven into a storyline in a way that it doesn’t overshadow the narrative, the characters, or in the case of genre fiction: the horror.
While the story itself was surprising to me, knowing that Bradbury could pull it off was not. The man was a master of the craft. He could write anything, on or off brand. But this is so dark, it threw me for a loop. How could he go this dark yet still remain on brand? This is very much a Bradbury tale. It feels exactly as you’d expect it would. Even the darkest parts of this story still somehow feel… innocent. It’s wild. Almost inconceivable. How the hell did he pull this one off?
Let’s dig in and find out…
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