Man, that was fun.

I rewrote the third episode of fledgling TV thing not once but twice last night. Sent my original thrid episode, plus my shorter version of the same, to the executive producer, then spent half an hour talking on the phone with him, punching up a few rough spots. The script gets emailed to L.A. this morning. I’d like to think I’ll eventually be compensated for my efforts, but more than likely I’ll be told this one day…

“Well, Nate, we’ve made our big production deal. Unfortunately, we have to give all the writers’ money to the band, so we’re making you an unpaid intern.”

Cue the axe murders. Rrrawr!

I think I’m gonna go ahead and get my airfare to Baltimore in January taken care of soon. No time like the present, right?

In Frequency Press news, I still have to put together the submission packets for Diamond and FM. Probably a weekend chore, so it can go out on Tuesday (Labor Day on Monday, you know). Y’know, if I can get this done, we might still make my December deadline.

I’m inquiring about the rights for something I want to translate into the comics format. We’ll see how that goes.

Fear of a Tasteless Planet, Week 2

13507 Hwy 183

Pacific Star is a good idea, a sort of seafood roadside diner. There’s a kickass U-shaped lunchcounter right through the middle of the dining room, and that makes any restaurant that much cooler. The drinks are stored on ice, right there in a prep sink. Neon beer signs blink at you from every corner, and Telemundo blares at you from a TV on the wall.

I was the only customer at Pacific Star when I showed up on Sunday, but I did arrive only ten minutes after opening. The place was starting to fill when I left twenty minutes later. Still, I never felt ill at ease with the lonely dining room. Pacific Star is just an inviting place.

But then there’s the food…

I ordered the Pacific Platter (Shawna’s commentary: sounds boring); three jumbo shrimp, one catfish fillet, two hushpuppies, fries, and garlic bread. Except for the garlic bread, everything is fried. Things are looking up, right?

Sure, if you love the taste of cornmeal.

See, that’s what the fish and shrimp tasted like. No seafood taste at all, just the breading. Blah. The fries tasted like oxygen. The garlic bread was tasty, and the hushpuppies kicked copious amounts of ass. The main courses, though. Blah, man. Just blah.

Highs: The hushpuppies, the lunchcounter.
Lows: Fish, shrimp, fries completely lack taste.

Grade: Eehhhhh.


In other news, the Borderlands stuff is done, just needs to be typed in. I made my hotel reservations, too. Just need to complete my flight info, and I’m good to go!

Looks like I get to rewrite the thrid episode of fledgling TV thing today and tonight. No prob. I need to go to Kung-fu tonight, though, or else my limbs will sieze up from last night’s class.

All this activity slows down The Program script a little, but it should still be ready by the weekend. Then it’s fun with 2nd drafts!

Food, Film, and Writing

Fear of a Tasteless Planet will be up tomorrow, as I don’t want to type that much at work. I will tell you that the dinner I made last night (Asian tuna steak with snow peas and mushrooms) was better than my lunch at Pacific Star. Hell, the tuna looked so good I took a picture of it. Maybe I’ll upload it later.

Well, with the exception of the back cover (waiting on some colors from hi-fi), A Trip to Rundberg is ready for printing. I’ll be taking the files to Kinko’s to get laser prints on Wednesday or Thursday.

One of the ideas I’ve been working on is an ongoing superhero story called The Program. I’ve had the story in my head for over six months, but I hadn’t written a word because I couldn’t figure out the perfect opening scene. Well, that scene woke up in my head yesterday, and I wrote the first half of the first issue. I should finish that issue by this time next week, but who knows?

Watched The Aristocrats and Capturing the Friedmans yesterday. The Friedmans were especially hard to watch, because I couldn’t tell if the family had been brainwashed, if they were deeply in denial, or if the whole thing really was trumped up. No easy answers in that one. None at all.

Fun while it lasted

Don’t bother looking for Simon White on Urban Dead anymore. He’s dead as a fargin’ doornail… and now he has risen. Looks like it’s time for me to feast upon the living!

Second draft of the Angry City pitch is done. Now to let it marinate for a week or two.

The TV things was really fun last night. We got a lot done and had a great time. The episode we’re breaking looks like it’s going to be a good one. Somebody’s working on the first draft or two this weekend, then I get my hands on it early next week. I’m getting more assertive at the meetings, really getting into a groove and trying to reign some of the others in. Things are cooking, man, and it’s great!

I’ve been jonesing for McDonalds real bad. It’s funny, because I seldom ate McDonalds before I saw Super Size Me. Now I eat McDonalds once a week. Guess that one backfired, Morgan.

Well, it was a good plan

**Before I get into today’s post, go check out Urban Dead. It’s an online, browser based roleplaying game based on a zombie outbreak in a big city. Pretty cool. And it’s FREE! Look around for me. My character is Simon White.**

I wrote my notes for the Angry City pitch last night, but didn’t get them typed into the actual pitch. I decided my time would be better spent drinking whiskey and watching the Scrubs DVD set. Felt guilty as hell about it this morning, but I’m eating a sausage biscuit and feeling better about myself now.

Found out last night that there’s a writers meeting for fledgling TV thing tonight. That means I have to tell Chris Nicholas I’m going to miss the STAPLE! meeting. That’s okay, though, because I don’t have much to contribute that can’t be done through email. I just sort of sit there and throw out venue ideas. That’s all I did last year. gary Bartos is really the supergrunt, doing more work than seems physically possible.

Speaking of the fledgling TV thing (I know we’ve moved on. Deal.), it occured to me how little writing I do for this outside of teh writers meetings. I’m so busy with my own stuff, I just never set aside time for the TV thing. If they ask me to throw out a show idea, I’m like ly to blurt out the Run Like Hell concept…

“See, there’s this all star high school running back, and he’s in the closet. Well, the rest of the football team finds out and freaks, kidnaps him, kills his boyfriend and everything, so the running back decides to hunt them down out of revenge.”

And just like that, you know what Run Like Hell is about.


This is another writing-related post. If it bores, sorry.

It occured to me last night, when I was sitting at my computer trying to flip between three projects, that I have to mentally organize myself. I’m not getting as much done as I should, because I’m not sitting down and cranking on one thing. The last time I did that was with the first issue of Cold, and I couldn’t be more pleased with the result.

So, here’s an attempt to get organized.

First thing’s first. I have to get Rundberg ready to send to distributors and printers by next week. This is really weekend work, and something I can complete on Saturday and Sunday, but I need to sit down and get it done.

Before the weekend, I need to tweak the Angry City pitch. I want to have that rewritten by Saturday morning. I’ll then let it sit for a week, then take another look at it. If it’s ready, I’ll send it to Tokyopop.

Next week is all about the Borderlands Boot Camp. The sample chapters are good to go, but I need to run a polish on the chapter outline and character descriptions. That probably shouldn’t take all week, but you never know.

That brings us to two weekends from now and Shawna’s birthday party. I suspect nothing will be accomplished that weekend except getting drunk and possibly playing boob judge again. How I suffer for these people…

Come Monday, I take that look at Angry City and make a decision. If it’s ready, I send it off and start work on either Run Like Hell or Saint James. Probably Saint James. I need to be artist-ready well before APE rolls around.

Okay, Switching gears a bit…

Matt Fraction makes an interesting point in this week’s Basement Tapes. He talks about writers who like their day job enough to just say fuck it and write what they want no matter what. Can’t say I love my work that much, or that it allows me to afford all the comics projects I want to do, but it is something to think about.


I was planning to come back with the second Fear of a Tasteless Planet, but the restaurant I went to in Pflugerville (Great Wall Express) made me very ill, and I don’t think I have a negative rating strong enough for it.

So, we’ll talk about Green Day.

Ventured down to San Antonio for this concert, the first arena show I’ve been to in about eight years or so. It was an Arena Show, too. Make no mistake about it; Green Day has left punk rock behind and become a full-bore arena rock band. The sheer spectacle of the evening blew the last arena show I attended (Smashing Pumpkins) out of the water. From the pyro to the oh so powerful lights to covering the audience with confetti as they played “We Are the Champions,” this was just a rockin’ good show.

On a side note, I can’t believe Billie Joe keeps his voice through an entire show. He must have screamed SAN ANTONIOOOOOO!!! close to thirty times throughout the night.

Jimmy Eat World opened, and I was highly entertained when they launched in to “The Middle,” only to hear the woman behind me say “Oh, this is that band?” I vowed to repeat this line during Green Day’s closing number.

And of course I forgot. That’s okay, though. Shawna, who had spent the entire evening alternating between singing, dancing, jumping, and screaming, turned to me when Billie began playing Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) to say “Oh, this is that band?”

And it was.