By: Brian Farrey,
on 8/3/2010
It’s August.
That means the Festival is starting in Edinburgh.
The theatre, the books, the Tattoo….
I desperately want to be there. But it won’t be this year.
Soon…
By: Brian Farrey,
on 7/28/2010
Thoughts from the rewrite trenches. Sometimes, it goes like this:
(Brian reads a note from his editor.)
WHAT?! Is she crazy? Did she even read this part? I am NOT changing that. It’s perfectly fine the way…
(thinks)
Unless of course… Hmmm… OK, maybe that makes sense.
(thinks more)
Yeah, that could work. OK, I can do that.
Sometimes, it goes like this:
(Brian reads a note from his editor.)
Huh?
(thinks)
HUH?
(thinks more)
Oh. Oh, OK. Got it.
Sometimes, it goes like this:
(Brian reads a note from his editor.)
I’m stupid. I am stupid and should never be writing. This is so obvious, why didn’t I see it? This is awful, awful, awful. I’m amazed anyone liked this enough to want to publish it because this is terrible. Thank God I have a chance to fix this before it goes out into the public, where it might actually do damage to the brain cells of anyone who tries to read something this putrid. Holy crap, I could be brought up on war crimes charges for writing this poorly.
(thinks)
That’s it. I’m finishing this book and then I’m never writing again. Anyone who writes this sort of puke should never be allowed access to a keyboard. Ever.
(thinks more)
No, seriously. Kill me now.
By: Brian Farrey,
on 7/26/2010
I’m in the process of retiring my desktop and living my writing life solely from my laptop. It’s a bittersweet transition as the DT and I have been through a lot together, including nasty viruses, at least half a dozen reformatting adventures, and countless upgrades that officially qualify it for the title Frankenputer.
As part of the rigmarole, I’m going through a collection of floppy discs (remember those?) and searching for anything of value. (The DT, you see, has the last floppy drive in our household.) While the ultimate value may be questionable, I am finding ancient writing files that are amusing but I would never let them see the light of day. But I thought it might be fun to share a few aborted projects, some cringeworthy, others just odd. So I give to you the first excerpt from THE FAIL FILES:
Untitled Dracula Project
This is one of the oldest files I have, dating back to the 1980s when I had a Coleco Adam. (Oh, yes. I did.) As the files would be incompatible with any sort of modern PC, I must have kept a printout of the original file and transcribed it onto a real computer in the 90s. (Why? As you’ll see, it’s not worth anything. But I have a policy of never destroying writing—I may make an exception on this one—because sometimes I find gems in aborted projects that can be formed into something new.)
Some background: most writing I did in my teen years was CLEARLY derivative of other media I’d just seen. The story about a group of American foreign exchange students who go searching for lost Nazi treasure in a series of caves beneath rural Germany (THE GOONIES). The story of three boys who discover plans on how to build a spaceship hidden as Easter eggs in their video games (EXPLORERS).
From what I can recall, the “untitled Dracula project” was inspired by THE MONSTER SQUAD (a movie that, on a recent viewing, hasn’t really held up to my memories of it). The story started in the late 19th century with Abraham Van Helsing attempting to kill Dracula once and for all by robbing him of his immortality using an enchanted gemstone that could control time. Van Helsing’s attack goes awry and instead of destroying Dracula, Van Helsing opens a rift in time and finds himself propelled 100+ years into the future (to approximately 1985). Suddenly, he’s in modern New York City and having a hell of a time dealing with all the changes society has undergone. (Let’s face it: fish out of temporal water stories never get old).
Enter Samuel Townsend, divorced, young, but hardly hip professor of history at an unnamed college in New York. Nice enough guy but kind of a fuddy duddy. His ten year old daughter, Carrie, is attempting to bring him, kicking and screaming, into the 20th century. We see them at home, Samuel eyeing the TV warily. Carrie assures him they’ve done the right thing. Turns out that the “right thing” is they FINALLY bought a VCR, the last family in the world (Carrie is convinced) to do so. Carrie has agreed to live with her dad, provided he doesn’t embarrass her. To assure that, she wants to give him a cool makeover. They go to the mall.
At the mall, Van Helsing is still trying to figure out how the 20th century works. Through a bit of wackiness, Van Helsing is almost arrested until Samuel, who saw the wackiness and believes Van Helsing to just be a foreigner who doesn’t understand the US, vouches for the vampire hunter. When he learns Van Helsing is penniless with nowhere to stay, he offers to take VH home. Here’s the actual bit of writing:
Samuel turned the ignition and buckled up. Van Helsing, watching carefully, also pulled his seatbelt on.
“You’ll like it at our house,” Samuel said. Then, to prove exactly how cool he was, he said proudly, “I have a VCR.”
By: Brian Farrey,
on 7/17/2010
As insipid as many American 70s era public service announcements were, I think I still prefer Woodsy the Owl to “the Spirit of Dark and Lonely Water.” Check out this British PSA circa 1973.
Crap on a stick! I’d still be having nightmares to this day if I’d seen this as a child! And I’d certainly never go anywhere near a bathtub. Though, I’m forced to wonder if it was effective…
By: Brian Farrey,
on 7/9/2010
I have no idea who Dean is but he makes Simpsons characters out of pop culture references and that if that didn’t give him the maximum number of cool points, then the fact that he’s Simpsonized DOCTOR WHO does. Go to his blog and tell him he’s cool.
By: Brian Farrey,
on 7/6/2010
The burning of Hogwarts…
HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS PART ONE is in theaters Nov. 19, 2010.
By: Brian Farrey,
on 7/5/2010
Dear Sciencey People of the World,
Please invent a totally silent spray can of whipped cream so that I can sneak into the kitchen and shoot a blast into my mouth without my beloved calling out from two rooms away, “I heard that!”
Thank you.
Brian
By: Brian Farrey,
on 7/4/2010
Because that’s how I wanna go out.
Happy Fourth, y’all.
By: Brian Farrey,
on 7/2/2010
You might ask: Brian, are there any advantages to just being you?
Why yes! I might answer. There’s a limitless supply of neuroses. More crippling self-doubt than you could ever imagine. And the whole biting off more than you can chew at regular intervals is enough to bring anyone to their knees in a fit of jealous rage.
And sometimes, when you’re just being me, you get little perks. Like advance copies of books before they hit stores.
DRAW THE DARK by Ilsa J. Bick comes out in October. Let me assure you that that is too long a wait. I had the pleasure of reading this recently and it left me speechless. Here’s a taste of the BCC:
There are things the people of Winter, Wisconsin, would rather forget. The year the Nazis came to town, for one. That fire, for another. But what they’d really like to forget is Christian Cage.
Seventeen-year-old Christian’s parents disappeared when he was a little boy. Ever since, he’s drawn obsessively: his mother’s face…her eyes…and what he calls “the sideways place,” where he says his parents are trapped. Christian figures if he can just see through his mother’s eyes, maybe he can get there somehow and save them.
But Christian also draws other things. Ugly things. Evil things. Dark things. Things like other people’s fears and nightmares. Their pasts. Their destiny.
And some things the people of Winter would rather forget—like murder.
But Winter won’t be able to forget the truth, no matter how hard it tries. Not as long as Christian draws the dark…
This book is stunning. From it’s evocative cover design to the main character’s powerful voice, I’d be hard pressed to find a misstep anywhere. The writing teems with atmosphere that drew me in from page one. I never, EVER say “I couldn’t put it down” about books. But honestly? I couldn’t with this one.
In the interest of full disclosure: this book was acquired by my buddy, Andrew Karre, who runs Carolrhoda Lab. Some of you may know him as my Esteemed Predecessor at Flux.
0 Comments on The things I draw. They tend to die. as of 7/2/2010 11:24:00 AM
By: Brian Farrey,
on 6/30/2010
This is what I’ve come to:
Breaking CHASERS down into scenes/chapter, color coding key moments with a system that only I understand, creating a flow chart. This has changed so many times I have no clue what does and doesn’t happen any more. too many drafts floating around in my brain. This is the only way to keep it straight as I make big picture changes affecting plot, theme, and character development. When it’s all said and done, I should break open the very first draft and see how they differ. Just how many darlings have I sacrified? (Not enough, in many cases.)
The draft that got me my agent was 96,000 words long. Embarrassing. I was lucky to find representation, wielding a bloated behemoth like that. I’m down to a leaner 75,000, but even that may change. There are still tweaks that need to happen (quickly, I hope, as the due date looms ahead). There are still things I need to consider (mainly notes from my editor that, while brilliant, leave me pondering how to achieve them). But… I’m nearly there.
In some ways, I’ll be sad when this is done and locked. Never able to revisit or tweak. Finally able to move on to the next project. In other ways, it’ll be a relief. One less thing to have rattling around in my brain while I try to focus on other ideas.
Fingers crossed, everyone. Final push. Here we go.
Geronimo!
By: Brian Farrey,
on 6/28/2010
Random thoughts from a busy life.
Went to the American Library Association conference in Washington DC this weekend. Impressions:
Impressions of Washington DC (my first visit):
Other thoughts:
0 Comments on OK, kid, this is where it gets complicated. as of 1/1/1900
By: Brian Farrey,
on 6/21/2010
LOST et mort. DOCTOR WHO will be shutting down for the year this weekend. What’s a boy to watch this summer?
Why, how about BRAND NEW EPISODES OF FUTURAMA ON COMEDY CENTRAL?!?!
All glory to HypnoToad!
By: Brian Farrey,
on 6/19/2010
Dedicated to my friend, Krafty Bitch.
By: Brian Farrey,
on 6/17/2010
Some odds and ends:
Charlotte and I are going on Saturday and I really want to get it this year. On the one hand, I want something nice to celebrate selling three more books. On the other hand, I’m getting married in just under four months and, in case y’all hadn’t heard, weddings ain’t cheap. But it’s soooo pretty….
By: Brian Farrey,
on 6/11/2010
Like many mothers, mine loved to tell stories about me. Some were filled with pride over some accomplishment. Some were reminders of my past, tied to stories of the person I’ve grown into. Mostly, she loved to tell embarrassing stories to my friends about things I’d done as a child. While she always got the facts straight, she never told the same story the same way twice. And like many storytellers, she didn’t mind fudging one or two details, depending on the audience.
Every year on my birthday, I’d get a phone call from her and she’d recount the story of my birth. It goes something like this: I was born in the middle of a terrible thunderstorm in southwestern Wisconsin. The wind blew so hard it bent trees over. Sheets of rain fell like the Great Flood itself. Tornado warning sirens were blaring in the background. The lights in the hospital flickered and thunder shook the hospital bed.
Every year she recounted the story, the storm got worse. The older I got, the more the day of my birth came to resemble some narrowly-escaped Armageddon.
One of the strange little facts about me is that not only was I born in a terrible thunderstorm in southwestern Wisconsin, but every birthday since, it’s rained. It’s not always a storm. Often, it’s a light shower. Sometimes, it rains a little and then the sun comes out. Other times, it’s an entire day of steady rain. But no matter where I am—what city, what state—the rain finds me on my birthday.
When Mom called, she’d usually start by asking, “Did you get your rain today?” I’d say yes and she’d launch into the story. I don’t hate the fact that it rains on my birthday. It’s one of the many unique things about me. If nothing else, it’s given me a great conversation piece. I think I should worry the year it doesn’t rain.
Today marks the first time I won’t get that call and won’t get to hear her tell the story. This occurred to me the other day and I suspected that even so, I’d spend all day expecting the call. Expecting to hear the story. Even knowing I wouldn’t.
But this morning, I awoke to great crashes of thunder and lightning that lit up our dark apartment. The past few years, my birthday brought a few drizzles but nothing too substantial. This year, it feels a little like reliving that first day all over again. It made me smile.
I can’t help but think that Mom made sure I knew the story this year, one way or another.
By: Brian Farrey,
on 6/4/2010
So lately, I’ve been describing to my friends how my life is this bizarre series of yin and yang. Anytime something really fantastic happens in my life, it’s always followed almost immediately
by something catastrophic. The reverse is also true. Cases in point:
1987
The Good: Our high school one-act play made it to state competition where I received an acting award. Minutes later, I learned that I was cast as Snoopy in a community theatre production of YOU’RE A GOOD MAN, CHARLIE BROWN.
The Bad: Days later, a hit and run driver smashed into my car parked at the school lot while I was in class and, as a poor high school student, I didn’t have the kind of insurance that would have allowed me to repair the car.
2005
The Bad: My grandmother died, my mother had a pacemaker installed in her chest and then found out three days later she had lung cancer, resulting in further surgery to remove part of her lung, and I discovered my boyfriend at the time wasn’t exactly bursting with fidelity. (All of this in the first six months.)
The Good: I sold my first short story. There were other good things that happened in the last six months of 2005 but they elude me right now. I still tend to call 2005 “the year from hell.”
These are just two of the more prominent examples. And in keeping with this trend, my weird life threw a couple new curves at me recently. Of course, there’s my mother’s death: devastating and surreal, my brain telling me both that I’ll get past it and that I’ll never get past it. And during the midst of dealing with this comes the news that my agent just sold my middle grade book, THE VENGEKEEP PROPHECIES, in a three book deal to Rosemary Brosnan at HarperCollins.
I’m thrilled and excited beyond words, of course. I grew to really love this book and, maybe more than anything else I’ve written, I was hoping someone else would love it too. Naturally, I wish Mom knew about this before she went so it’s the most bittersweet celebration of my life. But depending on your beliefs, there are those who would say Mom knows.
William Finn is one of my very favorite composers. As I think about everything that someday I’ll want Mom to know, I think about this song he wrote.
By: Brian Farrey,
on 5/29/2010
Gayle M. Farrey
(Oct. 1, 1947-May 22, 2010)
If I’d had any influence at all, the call I got would have been my father’s urgent voice saying, “Brian, Mom’s in the hospital. You should come home right away.” Instead, the call I got was my father sobbing at 5:40 in the morning and telling me that Mom was gone. No chance to brace myself. But then, I guess that’s what happens for most of us. All I could think about was how I was three hours away from Dad and I didn’t want him to be alone. Longest three hours of my life, that drive.
As sad as I am that I can’t dance with her at my wedding, I’m grateful that she knew and loved MyGuyTM and died knowing that we were going to be married in just a few short months. (She’d just purchased the dress she was planning to wear to our wedding; she got to wear it at the family viewing on Tuesday.) As sad as I am that she’ll never get to see it, I’m grateful she knew that my first book was due out next year. As sad as I am that I still catch myself thinking things like, ‘I’ll have to ask Mom about…’ and then realize I can’t do that anymore, I’m glad that I did get to talk to her the night before she died, when we didn’t know what was about to happen. We ended the call as we always did–saying “I love you”–which seems sweeter to me now because it didn’t come from the duress of knowing we were about to lose each other.
I keep wanting to make sure that things are back to normal at home with Dad before I head back to the Twin Cities but the reality is that there’s a new variety of normal in our lives. The old one is gone for good. Normal 2.0 will take some getting used to.
Thanks to all those who’ve offered their condolensces recently.
(Yes. That pic of Mom is…shall we say, a few years old. That’s OK. Even right to the end, that’s how she always looks in my mind’s eye. And she would NOT be pleased to know I’d posted a more recent pic. I think she’d want to know that this is how I remember her.)
By: Brian Farrey,
on 5/28/2010
When every single word out of a three-year-old’s mouth is a slightly whiny “why?”
Yeah. That never gets old.
By: Brian Farrey,
on 5/21/2010
Today’s grammar lesson:
By: Brian Farrey,
on 5/15/2010
Why is it that some of my very favorite writers have ghastly websites?
Not that mine is, you know, ambrosia for the eyes.
But still.
By: Brian Farrey,
on 5/11/2010
Dear Evil Forces of the Internet,
It was bad enough when you were posting e-books for free download. Now, you’ve given people the balls to sell them illegally. Some are even claiming to be ‘authorized sellers’ when, in fact, they are not.
Not cool, EFI, not cool. How would you like it if I came to your house and started selling things that belong to you out of some misplaced sense of entitlement? If I get your address, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
Upchuck and die,
Brian
By: Brian Farrey,
on 5/10/2010
I’m getting married five months from today.
Wow.
Will you share your life with me
for the next ten lifetimes?
For a million summers
’til the world explodes.
‘Til there’s no one left
who has ever known us apart.
By: Brian Farrey,
on 5/6/2010
Muppets+LOST.
Did you hear me?
MUPPETS+LOST!
Two of my most favorite things. Together.
By: Brian Farrey,
on 5/5/2010
The Muppets Bohemian Rhapsody went viral.
Let’s see if Avenue Q’s Queen medley can do the same.
Um, to be clear…. Unlike the Muppets’ video, this one’s a little NSFW. Just sayin’.
By: Brian Farrey,
on 4/29/2010
Tonight is Dining Out for Life, which (locally) raises money for the Aliveness Project, a nonprofit in South Minneapolis that 
provides services and programs to the HIV/AIDS community. Over 150 Twin Cities restaurants are participating, a portion of the money they make today going to support the Aliveness Project. With MyGuyTM working tonight, I’ll be dining alone but he’ll be with me in spirit. If you’re in the Twin Cities, I hope you’ll consider eating out tonight to support a great cause (the fundraiser occurs in dozens of cities across the US and Canada). The participating restaurants offer a range in prices and are perfect for every budget.
In related news, I missed this story in the Star Tribune a month ago: HIV Strikes the Next Generation. The young man profiled in the story, Tim Steeves, says he doesn’t recall any sort of sex education classes in high school and what he knew of AIDS was what he heard “on TV or something.” Tim goes on to say, “We need more facts. And less fear.”
Amen, Tim.
At one point, I thought that spelling out the realities about HIV meant inducing a necessary fear. That the only way the next generation would pay attention to the dangers would be to scare the ever loving shit out of them. I don’t think that way anymore. No one should learn through fear. Understanding is and will continue to be our strongest weapon in the fight against HIV and AIDS.
More facts. Less fear.
You wish to go to the festival? The festival?? The King’s festival??!!
You and me both, child.