Progress Report, in which I empty the well

Posted on October 3, 2011 by Matthew S. Rotundo

About 2300 new words and one cut-and-paste later, Magic Meter for Apocalypse Pictures Presents looks like this:

The cut-and-paste was my Writers of the Future 24-hour story, "The Hills," which now comprises chapter two.

And for my next trick . . . chapter three!  But the cut-and-paste well is now empty.  From here on in, it's just me and the muse.

For the nonce, though, it's snippet time:

From behind the dumpster came her voice:  "I'm fine.  Leave me alone."

She sounded wheezy.  He wanted to respond, but the coughing prevented it.  He shook his head–as if she could see that–and pressed forward. 

She said, "I don't need you to–"

He came around to her side of the dumpster.  She stood huddled against it, her back to him, her wheezes more pronounced.  A dark puddle had formed at her feet.

Eddie wiped futilely at the snot that covered the lower half of his face.  His coughing fit subsided, but speaking was still difficult:  "Let me . . . get a medic."  They had a few good ones in Rattlesnake territory.

"I'm fine.  Go see to the others, if you want to help."  Aside from the wheezing, the gas seemed to have hardly fazed her.

"Don't . . . be stupid.  Can't let you . . . bleed out here."  He reached for her.

She shoved his hand away with surprising strength.  He staggered backward, fell.  Her touch was very cold.

No updates for Write Club.

Back to the word mines . . .

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The People vs. George Lucas! With . . . me!

Posted on October 3, 2011 by Matthew S. Rotundo

The People vs. George Lucas–featuring me!–will be released on DVD on October 25th, but if you can't wait until then, it's also available for rent on iTunes right now.

You remember me blogging about this documentary before, of course.  Because, hey, it features . . . me!  The wait to see it has been kind of excruciating, so I finally broke down and rented it.  And sure enough, there I was, a little over twelve and a half minutes in:  Matthew S. Rotundo, Science Fiction Author, standing by the multicolored glass windows of the Montreal Convention Center, sounding almost authoritative.  It only lasts a few seconds.  Blink and you'll miss me.  But dammit, I'm there. 

And for those who can't get enough of–me!–you'll find a bonus quote a little further in.

Total screen time–maybe five seconds.  But hey, it's me!  How can that not be worth a look?

Oh, and I suppose you might want to check out the rest of the film, too.  If you must.

Once again, that's The People vs. George Lucas, a documentary by Alexandre O. Phillipe, available for purchase on October 25th, or for rent now, and featuring . . . me!  (And a bunch of other people.)

But enough about me.  Let's talk about you.  What do you think of me?

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Progress Report, in which I return to normalcy

Posted on September 26, 2011 by Matthew S. Rotundo

Drafting of Apocalypse Pictures Presents, my seventh novel, has begun.  Yes, really.  And here's your friend and mine, Magic Meter, to tell you a little more:

A very little more, as you can see.  I had to shake off some rust.

Total word count is just a guess at this point.   I begin despite doubts and fears that I won't be able to pull it off this time.  A murky middle awaits me, and the ending is a total mystery.  In other words, situation normal.

Here's a snippet, for your delectation:

Susan stepped closer to Gil, flashed a strained smile.  In a low voice, she said, "It's me, isn't it?"

Gil stopped drinking from his bottle in mid-swig and wiped his mouth.  "What?"

"It's OK.  You can say it.  I'm the reason the scene's not working, right?"

Gil studied her face, so intent and earnest, and reflected once again on how little he knew about directing.  The technical aspects were easy–once one got past niggling details like securing enough supplies to stave off dehydration and starvation, getting permission to shoot in locations overseen by heavily armed and paranoid xenophobes, and working in conditions that could charitably be called primitive, all to make a movie that very few in the country even had the equipment to view properly.  But none of Gil's skills with cameras, scripts, or automatic weapons could help him deal with an amateur actress wrestling with her own insecurities.

No updates for Write Club.

I'm out.

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