Max’s scientific process for writing

Posted on April 7, 2011 by Max T Kramer

I never lack for ideas on what I want to write about, but most of these remain in some sort of unformed amoebal fetal stage, without ever actually making it onto paper. A lucky few click into place however, usually when i’m doing or thinking about something completely different, and i’ll take a moment to write them down on a scrap of paper. I can’t tell you how satisfying and exciting this feeling is. It’s like for a brief period of time, I can see the future.

From there, surprisingly, I usually move on to research whatever topic i’m looking to write about.

Writing about an alien colony on another world? I’ll brush up on my astronomy and speculative science. Doing a period piece, even if it is complete fantasy fluff? I’ll still research the era at length. I personally think all the best fiction is based somewhere in fact, or at least perceived fact. It just reads better that way, and I get to feel clever by making obscure and veiled references most people will never notice or appreciate.

Oh, and don’t get me started on name selection. There’s a process.

Once the actual writing begins, your guess is as good as mine as to how it progresses. Sometimes it spews out all at once in one spastic fit of creation. More often, the process is side-tracked by frequent visits to facebook or porn sites, or I just wander away from the computer completely and do something different. Like make a sandwich. And eating said sandwich. So yeah, I like to say I pop out at least 1000 words a day, but sometimes its far more, and sometimes its zero. I don’t know if these are sustainable habits, but I do know that I do a good job of meeting my goals, which are more or less a blog post a week, a new  short story every month, and a full length novel every couple of years.

Now that i’ve bored any readers who don’t write themselves, let me redeem myself by proclaiming that YES, I have a new story for you to enjoy. It’s bloody. That is all for now.

READ.

Diurpaneus V. The Dead

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The End of the World, and why it can’t come soon enough

Posted on March 21, 2011 by Max T Kramer

Humanity, as a unit (haha unit), is in a weird place. Due to the cumulative efforts of our ancestors over the last few millenia (or several hundred years if you’re one of those creationist trolls) (You know, the “And on the 7th day, God drank Busch heavy” people), we have effectively escaped natural selection.

When an animal is smaller or weaker or dumber than his competitors, he dies, and the most deserving get the resources. Humans on the other hand are just too damn good at keeping ourselves alive. So much so, in fact, that it’s actually going to kill us. What can I say, we’re exceptional.

Allow me to explain. It can happen at any time really. Say you’re home sick from work, and you catch approximately 6.2 minutes of Jerry Springer. OR you hang around liquor stores at 11am on a Tuesday. OR you go to Walmart, literally anytime, but preferably around the first of the month (welfare check week baby). OR you visit the New Jersey. No matter when it happens, eventually you are going to be exposed to some manky ass troglodytic people that are just too dumb to live, and yet somehow, inexplicably do, and while they do it, they’re taking up valuable space, air, and resources, which we’re going to need later.

Meanwhile you ran a 4.5 second 40 yard dash in high school track, graduated sumapumafuma cum laude with cheese from a prestigious four year university, can play Beethoven’s 8th, 10th, and 12th on the oboe, plus you have a nearly God-like amount of random knowledge thanks to Jeopardy and Wikipedia, and yet you’re living back at home with your parents, dancing part time at the stripclub down the street, which unfortunately is your dad’s favorite, because all the entry level jobs in your field have been outsourced to radjish and his cousins in the Bengaluru field office. Let’s face it, the economy is bad. For the first time in history, there is a vast, energetic, highly educated young work force ready for action, and they can’t get the few jobs that are available because nobody is qualified. Here is an example.

Seeking: highly motivated person to run the brand new, never before seen, just invented this month, supercoolfunmachine3000, which remember, was just invented and is brand new. Must have 16 years experience running the supercoolfunmachine3000. Please bring resume and 3 un-opened sleeves of fig newtons, and apply in person on the moon by 3pm yesterday.

Well….shit. It’s enough to make a man, woman, or child scream and rip out their lustrous chest hair. Shrinks and Pharmacists are doing record business these days, treating people with depression, anxiety, blood-rage, and night terrors because, let’s face it, no matter how capable and qualified you are, your life is no longer fully in your hands. It must bend to the will of the fickle gods of Wall Street, who shall decide whether you get to keep your house  or job this month.

Add to that the certitude that one day, the world, or at least civilization, will end. Perhaps by devastating earthquake or asteroid strike, perhaps from the perpetual menace of the zombie undead, or maybe even by aggressive alien insect invasion. Either way, you’re stuck wasting the majority of your life at your meaningless job, which by the way is probably a telemarketing position for Edible Arrangements, while the cold greedy hand of death creeps ever closer.

My only hope is that Armageddon comes quickly. There’s nothing like an apocalypse of global proportions to redress the balance of the universe and reinstate Darwin’s sacred laws. Who is going to survive the Insectoid alien invasion? A piratical Wall Street banker? The last brother-uncle-cousin-dad to fail a paternity test on Springer? Pedofile Stan, the cubicle amoeba spilling out of his chair three rows behind you and one aisle to the left? Or the recent college graduate capable of living on Ramen and the dead skin cells they lick off of used solo cups, who has grown lean, tough, and bloodthirsty fighting for position in a stagnant job market.

Oh yeah. I, for one, welcome our new insect overlords.

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Introducing: A Contest!

Posted on March 7, 2011 by Max T Kramer

People enjoy competitions, right? Well, here’s one for you. I have decided to open the e-floor to suggestions for my next short story. Whoever gives me the best idea, wins! Here is how it works.

Over the next month or so, I will be taking submissions for a short story you want to have written. The story can be about literally anything, in any category or genre. If you have an idea, simply share it with me by writing a comment on this post. Give me as much information as you can, i.e. Character name, place, time, plot or theme, etc.

My reasons for doing this competition are three-fold. Firstly, and most transparently, i’m feeling lazy, and would like someone else to come up with some ideas for once. Secondly, I would also like to see more comments and feedback on this blog overall. You know, a little proof that people are getting some enjoyment from reading what i’ve written. If I have to give you vultures a prize for it, so be it. Lastly, I want to stretch my writing muscles, by writing about something I wouldn’t necessarily choose to write about on my own, in a style or voice different from my normal prose. That’s what i’ll be getting out of this contest. So what do you get out of it?

A STORY. Specifically, your story, or at least, your idea, immortalized on the internet for all to see and admire. You will receive full credit as the idea contributor, which will surely impress all your friends and loved ones, and probably make your enemies insane with jealousy.

So lets recap. You comment on this post sometime in the next month with a story idea. At the end of that time, I read all the comments, and choose my favorite. I then write the story, and post it in all its glory for you to enjoy. An author who literally gives his readers what they want? What a novel idea. Tee-hee. Novel. See what I did there?

P.S. By the Beard of Odin, please give me suggestions. If I don’t get any i’ll cry myself to sleep even more than normal. I’ll also be stuck writing Cino’s story idea. For those of you who are acquainted with Cino, you know just how horrible that news is.

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An aspiring author receives troubling news

Posted on February 23, 2011 by Max T Kramer

“In light of the ongoing impact of the difficult economy of the past few years, and the rapidly changing retailing environment for books and related products, it is essential that Borders restructure itself to reposition its business to be viable and successful over the long term.

To that end, we have determined the best route to undertake the necessary reorganization of our business is through the filing of a petition for reorganizational relief under Chapter 11 of the Bankruptcy Code.”

Thus began the email I received a few days ago from the Borders Group, Inc. Borders has declared bankruptcy. That sucks. Their email news release went on to reassure customers that for the time being, all Borders stores are operating normally, with the minor caveat that underperforming stores will be shut down in a few weeks. What the email failed to mention is that pretty much ALL of their existing stores are “underperforming”.

Of the seven stores in the state that I know about, only one has thus far avoided the headsman’s axe. I was surprised that even the Borders in my hometown, (Southbury, CT) was being shut down. Businesses tend to last in Southbury. Example. They still have a KMart open. When was the last time you saw a KMart? If you’re thinking 2002, you’re probably right.

Is this imporant news? To Border’s (former) employees it is. I stopped by Southbury’s Borders store earlier today, partially to say goodbye to a retail institution I was proud to share my hometown with, and partially to take advantage of the clearance prices on everything left in the store. What can I say, I appreciate a good bargain.

The brief conversation I had with the woman at the checkout counter as she rang out my stack of plunder was a painful experience. She literally had tears in her eyes as she said goodbye to some regular customers. The other employee’s I could see were equally emotional, most of them moving as if in a daze, as they haphazardly posted 40% off signs and restocked their shelves from a a rapidly dwindling supply, moving without their customary smiles and friendly greetings as they side-stepped the vultures like myself who were picking away the remaining flesh from the store’s exposed bones . These were not just retail employees put off by the inconvenience of losing a part time job. These people care. They have a deep, abiding love of literature, and treat their holy product with the reverence that all good books deserve. When the corporate suits came in a few days ago with their bad news, they were caught unawares. There was one universal question in every face I saw. What am I going to do now?

I asked one employee, well bro, what comes next? His response: I don’t know man…I think I might pull a Max, and move West. Maybe Boulder?

You know what? I think he might do it too. As for the rest of the people losing their livelihood with the store closing, who knows what they might do? They aren’t socially awkward enough, or physically malformed enough to find work in a library. (Have you ever noticed that no matter where you go, library employees are freaks? check next time. You’ll see. Someone should do a study about that.) Alternate bookstores are few and far between. Waldenbooks died years ago. Barnes and Noble clings to life by the skin of its teeth. Private or specialty bookstores are rarer than unicorns, and should be treasured as such. These people have led a blessed life, surrounded by the power and magic of the written word, and they now have nowhere to go.

More importantly however, this sucks for ME. I live to write stories. I want those stories published. It is a deep, abiding goal of mine to see my work in print, up on a bookstore shelf. Nothing I can think of would be more fulfilling, or make me prouder, and yet, my job becomes harder every day, and my goal more unattainable because BOOKSTORES ARE GOING EXTINCT.

A savvy writer can evolve with the times, earning a living working on online publications and producing work in formats suitable for e-readers, but a world without actual, physical bookstores is a world with less magic in it.

That world makes me sad.

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Animals is food

Posted on February 16, 2011 by Max T Kramer

I would appreciate if someone could give me a rational explanation for the existence of pets. There are many reasons why owning certain animals can be beneficial. Potentially, they can produce a valuable product, like wool, or milk. Possibly, they can be used for protection, or in the hunting of other animals. Periodically they can provide a means of transportation. Most importantly however, they are delicious, and when their other feasible value has been depleted, you can slaughter and eat them. Preferably on a grill. Smothered in various sauces and spices.

So animals are good, when kept as assets which hold definite value, and continue to create wealth derived from either their produce or services. Guard dogs are great. Barn cats who hunt mice are great. These are useful animals. They are not pets. They don’t have names, you don’t have to spend money on them, and when they die you are happy because you get to poke their gross bloated corpses with a stick, and that’s fun. Pets, on the other hand contribute nothing of value, and are therefore a wasteful habit, as loathsome as smoking cigarettes, or chronic masturbation.

But Max, you will probably argue, Pets are worthwhile because they are wonderful friends and companions. WRONG. wrong. FRIENDS are wonderful friends. Pets are stupid animals, who can contribute nothing to your life but frustration and financial ruin. When you are with actual friends, you can engage in witty repartee and stimulating conversation. Pets on the other hand have no idea what you are talking about, don’t care, and only produce obnoxious loud stupid noises which are the worst thing ever. Who likes a barking dog, a mewling cat, or the mindless squawk of a shit bird? NOBODY. Not even other dogs, cats, or shit birds.

When you are spending quality time with your friends, you can play exciting games of chance and skill. When you are with a pet, you can throw a stick. That’s not a game, that’s a chore. Not to mention if you happen to be spending time with both a friend AND a pet, the pet with ruin your good time 100 percent of the time, all the time, either by being loud, or smelly, or messing up your game, or sniffing your butt, or making a mess, or running away, or staying, and it sucks.

So you’re lonely? You want someone to care for you and show you love and affection? Try a person. Not only can they show you love and cuddle with you, if that cuddle happens to turn sexual, it’s neither creepy, nor illegal. Beastiality on the other hand, is still illegal in this state. Your pet doesn’t even love you anyway, it just sticks around because you give it food. You don’t have to give your friends food. They will stick around anyway. And get their own food. And do all sorts of other useful stuff.

Pets are disobedient. Even the best trained animal still does stupid things, and after you tell it to stop one million times it still doesn’t get why you’ve grown insane with rage and you’re beating the crap out of it. People know when they’re fucking up, and they generally know why they deserve the severe ass kicking you are providing.

Pets cost money. Food, medicine, the vet, toys, professional cleaning. You will never ever get that money back, because your pet is worthless and doesn’t have a job. Real friends don’t mooch like that.

Pets make messes. Hair, poop, peepees, hair, poop, peepees, puke, and all of your valuable possessions that the animal has decided to ruin for the sheer perverse pleasure of making you sad. That’s all a pet is. A valueless shit factory which makes your life miserable for as long as it lives, and gives nothing back in return, but you can’t see that because you’ve been brainwashed by Hallmark or some other feel good company to think that the worst thing ever in your life is actually a good thing, when it clearly isn’t.

Cats Suck. Dogs Suck. Birds, and bugs, and fish, and rodents, and reptiles, and every other stupid animal that you allow into your home and give a name and spend unrequited time and money on Sucks.

The only lasting pleasure any animal can ever give a human is the pleasure of its death. This is a two part pleasure. One, that dumb creature will never bother you again. Two, you can eat it.

Delicious.

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