Rancid Milk

Long time, no see

2005-08-12T15:15:00.000-07:00

Been a while, dudes. I've been to concerts, been depressed, and have especially been bored. That's my summer.

Also, I've fucked up a lot in terms of keeping certain friendships, but I won't go into that right now.

Anyway, I haven't had much computer access, since mine at home is down, and I only get on one when I'm at Kyle's. But yeah, I'm still writing, so I suppose that's good.

Well, it's been good to see you all again. Just letting you know I'm still alive. For now.

Heartbroken

2005-06-24T17:51:00.000-07:00

Christina's over me. It hurts too much. I moaned and cried myself to sleep, and woke up crying as well. It's the worst feeling I've ever experienced. It's so intense, so unnaturally awful, that I can't say much more than that without sounding like I'm ranting.

Luckily, I have such a great friend as Kyle. With his words, he brought me out of the gutter and set me firmly on the bustling sidewalk of reality. He's the best friend a friend could have, and I love him to death. I will have to move on, and Christina's already made her decision as to what she'll do. She wants to "experiment", to experience more relationships, and then, in time, maybe she'll come back to me, a wiser person. I hope that she does, because she's the most amazing girl in the world and right now I can't picture myself with anyone else.

So I'm trying to dull the pain by exploring, myself. Since Kyle has recently undergone the same terrible reality as I have, we are both in the same boat, and so we're looking for girls. No serious relationships; just some fun. Intermingling with the opposite sex is probably the one thing that completely kicks everything else out of your mind, and that's exactly what I need right now, because I can't take the pain.

***

I got back from Mexico. Nice trip, lots of cool experiences, but heartbreaking poverty, which I won't go into at this moment.

When I got back I awarded everyone's existence with a small souvenir. They all seemed moderately happy. I still have to give Christina her presents, one which happens to be rather expensive. I don't know if I could give it to her right now, and the thought of seeing her wrenches my heart.

When I got back, I was also awarded, but not for my existence, but for my seemingly existent talent in the craft of word: my first check for my first published story. Along with it came a nice note from the editor. It feels good. I think I'll frame it and hang it up on my wall. Anything that will make me happy right now I all but take for granted.

In other writing news: Got several rejections, and I'm sad to report that "I Was a Teenage Feline" will not be appearing in the Twisted Cat Tales anthology. Bummer. But I have to keep going. I need to stay focused, or the pain will come back.

And it's too much for me to bear.

Oh. My. God. I'm. In. Love. With. A. Super. Model.

2005-06-11T15:56:00.000-07:00

I don't think that needs any explanation.

I told you Christina was the love of my life. You and your doubts.

Writing

2005-06-08T14:17:00.000-07:00

Got a rejection on my fantasy story "What War Brings" from Byzarium Magazine. The editor was very friendly, liked my story but had to reject it because of the awesome quality of several other submissions, and is also from Sacramento, and invited me to come to the Star Struck Con next month.

So I just sent "What War Brings" over to Tales of the Talisman Magazine. Should be getting a reply in about a month.

I'm also expecting a final decision from Esther Schrader, the editor of Twisted Cat Tales, on my dark horror-humor story "I Was a Teenage Feline." Last time I checked, I'd made the short list, but have yet to find out whether I made the final cut.

There are also about five other stories and two flash stories I'm awaiting decisions from various editors on.

Writer's adrenaline. Gotta love it.

Forgot:

2005-06-04T16:22:00.000-07:00

http://rembrandtandcompany.com/Ian%20Kappos.htm - My published story.

http://bluemondaypress.com/unhallowedsanctum/issues.htm - Where you can buy Unhallowed Sanctum's first issue. It contains fiction from: Kevin James Miller, Steve Grene, Wendy Washburn, Ian Kappos, Bruce P. Frost, and Kyle Pate.

Enjoy both!

And thanks again to all of you for being so supportive.

Hola

2005-06-04T16:11:00.000-07:00

...from Mexico. That's right, folks. I write to you from a computer in a hotel in a sunny city in a country that's just a bit south of the Land of the Free.

The following things are what I've learned so far from Mexico:

1. It's very hot
2. There are lots of bikinis
3. Everything is written in Spanish
4. It smells like the inside of a Wal-Mart (no surprises there)
5. I'm going to die

The last one will either be from the heat or eating (or drinking) something bad. That's why I've been surviving off Doritos. I don't know what flavor they are because I can't read the label, but they are good.

Also, I have good news. Actually, it's EXTREMELY good news. Would you like to know what that news is?

I've been published.

Yes. You read correctly. I now stand among your ranks as a published author. My fantasy story "A Wizard's Revenge" will be appearing in the next issue of The Goblin Reader Web-Zine and my payment should be arriving in the mail in about a week.

This feels good. Really good. Like, the best feeling ever. I've finally accomplished what I've been aiming to do for the past three years of my life. I'm published. And it's awesome.

Unfortunately, Kyle seems like he's the only one that gives a rat's ass, but I'm trying not to let that bother me. I mean, come on--I'm published now!

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!! [insert other versions of an evil cackle here]

*wipes sweat from brow* Ugh. My victory is short-lived.

Farewell

2005-05-24T14:34:00.000-07:00

Farewell, people. The last day of school is Thursday, and both Wednesday and Thursday I'll be taking finals, so I won't be granted much computer time. I doubt I'll be able to get on the computer much over the summer either, so you probably won't be seeing much of me.

I know. It's sad.

I just want to say that I'm really grateful to have met all of you and have gotten to know all of you, everyone that stops by here. I've learned a lot from all of you and you are all great people, in helping me launch my writing career and just generally caring by leaving comments or emails. In the past quarter year or so I've loved, hated, learned, and taken action, and all of you helped me in that (well, not so much in the hating part). I mean, after all, I'm only a teenager with a dream and many of you have already established yourselves.

Thank you so much and I really appreciate everything you all have done for me, from the bottom of my heart. It means so much to me.

Peace out.

The Whore Lived Like a German

2005-05-20T13:14:00.000-07:00

That was the title of a spam email I received today. *sigh* Germans suck.

Sampling Some Scifi

2005-05-20T11:01:00.000-07:00

Since the release of Star Wars Episode III and my recent indulging in Jeff LaSala's Escapee serial, I've been itching to write some scifi. I've tried it before, but failed utterly. I've had strokes of inspiration to try at it again since, but have been too afraid. I'm forcing myself into it now.

I think I've got the tone down very well. The title is "Family Means More Than the World." Here's the first paragraph:

When the sun was eclipsed by a bulk of metal and fire, Jonathan knew it was the end of the world. A shadow slipped across the city, dunking all into a darkness that even night would envy. A night that we will never see again, thought Jonathan bitterly, before running back into the living room to gather his family.

Eh? How's it sound? Good? Great? Grood? Mediocre?

The Small Press: A Rant

2005-05-19T09:44:00.000-07:00

Small presses. The phrase gives off a sort of insignificance, doesn't it? Among big-time authors and major publishers, small presses are relatively unimportant. To readers, the small press couldn't even exist and it wouldn't affect them.

Of course, we could always say that the innaccessability of small press publications is because of this. Booksellers are guaranteed to put books produced by major publishers on the shelves before any close-to-unknown books published by small presses. And it's a given that major publishers will have more money to advertise and fund their books so they are seen almost everywhere.

This basically pushes small press books off the ballot.

But I think there's another reason why small presses don't get so much of the limelight. What's the reason?

Their quality!

That's right, I'm finally coming out and saying it: Small presses don't seem to give a shit about the quality of the things they publish. Granted, there are very professional small publishing houses that put out very good and very clean work, but for the majority, small presses STINK.

You see major publishers shooting out ten to twenty books a year, all without or close to without any grammatical/punctuation/or spelling errors. They're busy as hell, what with reading so many damn submissions every day, analyzing and evaluating them all, meanwhile trying to make the ones they've already agreed to publish look as perfect as possible. And they do that endlessly!

And yet, here are the small presses who are lucky to even publish three books a year, and if they run a magazine or online mag, they publish probably on average about six issues a year. Are they nearly as busy as the major dudes? Fuck no they aren't! I can just picture these inexperienced little morons twiddling their thumbs, waiting to receive more submissions while not even glancing over one they've decided to publish. Once they get something that seems worth publishing, they're too excited to even look at it and edit. Do they put half as much the time the biggies do into making their material shine? Are they even a fraction as busy as them?

NO!

They're all just little dimwits, to put it plain and simple. Their idea of starting a publishing company probably came around whilst one was smoking a joint and musing aloud, "Hey, I like Stephen King. I bet that if I get some writer like him to write books for me, I'd make a lot of money. Boy, it would be so EASY!"

I'm not even joking.

I've had it up to HERE with small presses. I read one anthology that contained so many errors I almost screamed at it. Granted, there were a few stories in it that were flawless, but that was due to the writer's skill. And I just put down a book that had so many mistakes in it that I just couldn't stand reading it any longer.

And guess what's so special about that book? The copy-editors (yes, editorS) were listed on the inside flap. Do you see that in any major publishers' books? No. The only written credit the editors get are on the acknowledgements page from the author. They're not put in the book anywhere else.

And you know what I think is so funny about that? THE COPY-EDITOR DIDN'T EXIST TO ME! He was not there. He was probably smoking a joint while he was perusing the manuscript as well.

So I'm sure that by now you all see my point and my obvious anger.

See, with Blue Monday Press, we're hoping to set an example for small presses. The cleanliness of our work is absolute and we're always aiming to improve the quality, even if it already seems decent to the average reader. We want it to look the way WE want it: Beautiful, clean and enjoyable. No strings attached.

If any other thirty-year-old guy who's still living with his mother and "running" a "publishing company" can't do that, it's a definate sign of the apocolypse.

But if a kid half his age with some determination and at least a grasp of how the business works can do that, we may yet be forgiven for our sins.

Writing Update

2005-05-18T13:23:00.000-07:00

Let us veer away from the usual displeasures of my life and catch up on a little bit of my writing, shall we? Over the weekend I submitted the following stories to the following markets:

"Journey's End" (horror) - Insideous Reflections (professional print magazine)
"Billy Winston and the Nightflower" (horror) - The Corpse Magazine (professional print magazine)
"Forlorn Tower" (fantasy) - Brutarian Magazine (professional print magazine)
"What War Brings" (fantasy) - Byzarium (paying e-zine)

Here's to hoping for a good outcome!

Please Kill Me

2005-05-16T13:08:00.000-07:00

I had a wonderful weekend with Kyle and his father. We played about a total of four hours of frisbee and I got sunburned on my back. Then we went back to their house and just chilled. I got to catch up with friends and have a few light-hearted conversations online and we watched Napoleon Dynamite (my fifth time). I also got to talk to Christina and found out a shitload of stuff that's happening around her and I feel so guilty for ever giving her crap about how great she's got it. She's surrounded by people that are about as immature and stupid as the ones surrounding me. We're meant for each other.

Other than that, Christina and I still had a nice talk and I've come to the conclusion that she's cutest when she's hyper and sexiest when she's tired. I wonder if she's similarly analyzed me...

So, all that pretty much got me in a good mood. I mean, besides Christina's ongoing problems in her household, I was feeling great, really. I was optimistic and looking forward to, well, everything, because, at that time, there wasn't much that seemed NOT worth looking forward to.

Then that night my aunt told me that she's going with San Francisco with Hannah on a field trip and that she won't be back until six o'clock, so I had to take the bus home. See, people, I usually walk over to the school she works at (where, coincidentally, Christina's aunt works at) and that's the main place where Christina and I get to see each other and talk.

But I was denied that privelege today.

But, you know what, I was just feeling so good that I didn't let that get to me. I just told myself I'd see her Tuesday and we'd talk on the phone when I get home. No biggy. I could live. So I didn't let that get to me.

And just this morning my aunt told me that I'm going to attend Sac High (the current school I'm attending) next year. I wanted to cry on the spot. This place is so goddamn terrible. It really is. The teachers suck (but I can usually deal with that) and I'm CONSTANTLY surrounded by loud, arrogant ghetto idiots that insist on fucking with each other and, in turn, annoying the living crap out of me. I cannot STAND being so deep in the heart of all this walking, talking ignorance. It's alienating and something that can drive people mad (for all I know, I already am mad).

I was hoping against all hope that I'd be able to attend Kyle's school next year. The way he speaks of it, it sounds like heaven. Great school activities (even for those as anti-social as me) and kick-ass clases, as well as kick-ass people.

And if I couldn't go there, I would have liked to go to Hiram Johnson West Campus, which is a nice school with plenty of intelligent people in it. My aunt mentioned that I could go there if I had the grades. I'm not sure if I do, and since I'm so pessimistic as of this moment, I don't think I do have the grades.

So I'm coming back to this shithole.

And what's more: Next year this nifty new charter district that's running this hellhole of a school is initiating a student uniform policy AND they're going year-round!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Please kill me.

I've already missed out on my childhood because of constant worry and stress over thing's I was too young to worry and stress about and just being exposed to way more than I should have. Now, in the heart of teenhood, these assholes are depriving me of the last three summer vacations that I will be able to use to hang with friends and screw around before I have to move out and pay bills and go to college.

And did my aunt think about it? Pfffffft. Are you kidding me? Sure, she feeds me and gets me to where I need to go and does all the requisite things that are necessary of a parent to do for their child. Except that she shows no interest or care for my emotions or mental stability. Not one. She doesn't go out of her way to ask me how I feel and she wouldn't even if I asked her.

I can't stay here anymore. I could move to my grandparents', but they live out of town and they'd try to control my life. I don't know if I'd be able to move in with my mom, but she doesn't have the money and she lives out of town as well.

I want to move in with my Auntie Alison and Uncle Brian. They're some of the nicest people ever. They live in Land Park, which is a nice area and they're calm, and that's what I need. If I lived with them, I'd get all the care I needed.

But I don't know. I really don't.

What? Oh, more...

2005-05-13T12:37:00.000-07:00

Caked sexiness

Fairy fantasy

I like yellow just as much as the next guy

El party-o

Take dos

Blasphemous couch and its slavers

The last three are from my friend Brian's party. Anyone who can guess who I am and who Kyle is gets a gold star. I'll give you a clue: I'm the one that looks like a fucking idiot and Kyle is the one that looks like a fucking moron.

Also, ignore the dude Christina's on. He's in the past and she and I both know that she would've rather been on me right there than on him.

PLAY!

Harumph

2005-05-13T12:18:00.000-07:00

Well, I love Christina. With all my heart. I'd do anything for/to her. Wait, maybe I should take out the "to" lest she sees it and gets the wrong idea.

But nevertheless, I love her. She's the perfect girl, and someone would have to be crazy to turn her down.

Oh, and check out this cool pink pillow...

Pink pillowy grooviness

Oh, and the girl which happens to be the most beautiful of them all.

God, she's gorgeous. I dedicated a story to her last night (the edited version of Forlorn Tower, actually) and I thought it looked pretty nifty. Maybe I'll send it off somewhere soon.

Well, please do keep in mind that I love her, because I don't want anything getting out of hand when I play grab-ass with you this weekend (you know who you are).

Actually, you don't know who you are because you don't exist. Philosophical, no?

CHRISTINA= ANGELIC PERFECTION GOODNESS.

Irksome Imbeciles in India

2005-05-10T10:43:00.000-07:00

Dumbass blog post.

Well, Unhallowed Sanctum is ALMOST ready. Any authors viewing this blog post that have agreed to write blurbs for the e-zine, expect an email containing the first issue soon.

Well, today some random girl in my algebra class smelled my hair. She sort of leaned over from behind me and put her nose so close to my head that I could feel it touching my hair and just took this giant whiff.

Freaky? Yeah, definately.

Also, Ms. Treaster remarked that I look like a surfer-hippie today. Hmm. That's original.

I may see Christina today--it depends on whether she goes on the bus to her friend's house or not (which I hope she doesn't: mainly because I want to see Christina and I hate her friend). I was sort of a dickhole to her last night and I regret it. I have this wonderful capability of saying bad things to people whenever the hell I feel like it, and most of the time do. I'm a jerk.

So what else is going on in Ian's Irksome Idiotic, um, Day? Not much. Listening to The Clash--

Aha! That's what I was going to talk about!

Not The Clash, really, but all these dumbfucks that think they're punk nowadays. Hello, who the hell ever elected Ashley Simpson as a punk?

NOT ME!

I mean, Jesus, Avril Lavigne has never heard of the Sex Pistols...how could she ever be punk?

And Simple Plan, those retards that wrote a song that goes thus: "I'm a dic, I'm a-ddicted to you!!!" WTF? THAT'S PUNK?!

Punk has become a fashion. The spirit and wild I'll-do-whatever-the-hell-I-want-because-you-suck attitude has been sapped out of our youth. Stupid idiots come to school dressed in all black and Converse and wallet chains and studded belts and bracelets and choker necklaces and dyed hair and are sporting shirts that say GOOD CHARLOTTE!

If you want punk, listen to some Ramones or D.O.A. or Dead Kennedys or The Dickies or The Authorities or The Clash or Buzzcocks or Bad Brains or Velvet Underground or The Damned or The Stooges...I mean the list goes on. There is so much actual punk, but these kids are completely fucking blind and all they listen to is the stuff played on the radio that the media dubs as "punk."

Punk is dead.

Shoot me now. Pop culture sucks. "Punks" suck. Media sucks. The government sucks. THIS WHOLE ERA SUCKS!

End of rant.

Christina's Revelation

2005-05-09T13:20:00.000-07:00

Well, Christina finally realized just how inconsiderate she is. At first, I thought she was aware of how she acted towards people, and then I slowly began to realize that she had no idea she was being so...well, unaware of others' feelings. The sweet girl that she is (contrary to previous statements) she's really working on changing it around.

Here's a crap-ass poem I wrote in Journalism today concerning her and her Revlation:

I hope she'll learn
She hadn't heard it till now
Life had let her pass by
Realization it would not allow

If she'd only known before
If naivete hadn't grabbed hold
Maybe things would be simpler
So she didn't have to be told

Now things are blurry
I don't know what to expect
But maybe soon
She'll show us all respect

I told you it sucked.

Anyway, I love Christina with all my heart and hope that she really does change, though I know she is trying. I can't wait to see her today, but I doubt I'll get a hug, just because every time we see each other now, we're around her aunt. For some reason, she isn't going in the back of the school anymore, where we usually meet up. I don't know why, but I have my suspicions.

Also, Unhallowed Sanctum is finally back on track, and I just received a submission from ANOTHER very established author, which is really cool.

I love Christina.

Ian out.

Ugh.

2005-05-05T10:42:00.000-07:00

Today sucks. I was supposed to leave at seven fifteen for a field trip for a film festival in San Francisco. We ended up being late to school, and the bus had already left by then. Of course, I was blamed. Truthfully, it partly was my fault, but I was ready soon after and we still could've made it had it not been for my aunt's bitchy attitude and sudden willingness to feed the cat and fix everything else up that didn't need fixing up, and just all around take her sweet fucking time.

I got so pissed when I got to school. Like flustering, breathing hard, red-faced, black-out rage pissed off. So pissed off that I punched the brick wall and busted open flesh on a few of my knuckles. And of course, before I got out of the car, I exploded on my aunt and I'm sure she's going to ground me for a longer period once I get to her workplace after school. And, if she's feeling especially cuntish today, she'll take away my laptop, which I've had stowed away in my room, where I've been working on a novel for the past two days.

But I just want to forget about that right now.

The aforementioned novel is a surreal, paranormal horror-fantasy half-ass tale concerning my undying love for Christina. I've finished the prologue and first two chapters. Everything seems to be going fine so far...no complaints. The writing--which is from the point of view of a teenager much like myself--is solid and the dialogue is possibly the most believable I've done. Overall, I'm fine with it. I'm just a bit worried that I might lose interest--I've tried writing books before (with planned outlines and all) and the original intrigue for the story sort of faded after a while.

But I don't think I have to worry about that with this one. It's one that's easier for me to write, and plus, I made a promise to Christina that I'll finish it by camp (July 18th). So...yeah, been typing a chapter a night. I think that's a pretty steady schedule.

Unhallowed Sanctum is behind schedule. Kyle apparently got hit by a car, so he's a little slow on the pdf business. Poor bugger. So...I've just been editing over edits, just passing the time and trying to advertise. This slowness is really pissing me off--we still have authors to send the issue to for reviews before it can come out and Kyle still has to upload PayPal to the website and whatnot!

Sometimes I wish God really did exist.

Meanwhile, "Stan the Hero" hasn't progressed much, mostly because I've been alotting my time with my novel. I just haven't been feeling the...well, feel for the story. Sometimes I have to be in a certain mood to write certain things in certain styles. You know what I mean? Certainly.

Also, I'm adding a new link to my link columns. It's a site called "Dark Markets" with listings of all the horror anthologies, 'zines, and publishers open to submissions. It's very helpful and there happens to be a lot of publishers listed there that Ralan doesn't have. Imagine that.

Christina's been pretty upset lately because of her bitchy aunt and other problems that I probably don't know of. I feel like a dick for ever being such an asshole to her. I care about her so much that it hurts when I see her like this. It's as if all happiness and joy has been zapped out of my life. I just want her to be happy. And hopefully by writing this book (which I'm doing volunteerily--not because she told me to or not because I want to get something in return from her) for her. It's all for her. Because she's the only one that matters.

So...I suppose that's the end of today's rant. Toodle-oo.

Sorry

2005-05-02T12:57:00.000-07:00

Okay, sorry for that recent post, guys. I was just being a jerk. I'm just really grumpy and tired today. So tired that I was walking down the hall falling asleep. When I was in the bathroom, I nearly fell asleep over the urinal. I was wakened by someone barging into the bathroom, finding me hunched over the urinal with a look of stupified bliss on my face. I shot out of it and zipped up, but the guy, spotting the white paint stains on my jeans, already had his theories of what I'd been up to. Oh well. I didn't know him.

I know I'm feeling like shit right now, but I take comfort in the feeling that, in the end, I'll feel good about Christina and me. I don't know how, but I will. Average hormonal mood swings, I suppose.

I had a rant prepared for you guys, but I've got way too much on my plate for my tired ass to get it all done in the limited time I have, so it'll have to wait. Ciao.

Bad Mood, Grim Tidings

2005-05-02T10:13:00.000-07:00

Christina has shown time and again that she has complete disregard of my feelings. It seems she goes and does stuff without even thinking of what I might think of it, which goes to show how high I am on her priority list. She tells me she likes me a lot--honestly, I don't know what "a lot" is to her, considering she's attracted to literally every dude on Earth, or so it seems. Not once in our "relationship" has she shown one inkling of appreciation for having me. It's as if she takes me for granted. I can recall three accounts of which she's said something remotely affectionate, and that was with mild coaxing on my part.

If there is one thing I could change right now, it would be her immature over-obsession of every hot guy on the planet. It's one thing to obsess over hot guys on MTV or whatever, but to actually try to MEET random "hot" strangers on MySpace while saying she's devoted to me at the same time is pushing it. And that's an understatement.

I could expect nothing less from Christina. She can be so utterly clueless sometimes it's amazing.

But what else is new?

Well, other than that bullshit, I got a copy of Realms of the Dragons II. (Here's a note to Kameron: I usually don't enjoy reading excerpts, but, man, that was great stuff. Can't wait to get my hands on the whole thing). I also read Erik's sample, which was good, but his gave off the feeling that I had to already have the whole book in my hand to appreciate it more. Still good stuff, though. I started reading Kameron's contribution to the anthology, got half-way through, but then had to go to bed.

I also saw The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, which was grand indeed. I didn't think Mos Def would be able to pull it off as Ford, but he had a surprisingly good performance. Before the movie, my mom also got me all the Hitchhikers books in an omnibus, which was cool ++.

Overall, I had a nice time with my mother. She gave me some more skin care, because I'm cool. I really don't have bad acne at all, but oily skin just annoys the crap outta me, so I have to have my skin just right. I'm the most sanitary person on Earth. It's not even funny.

Also, for Christina's sake, I have been doing fifty to two hundred crunches and sit-ups a night (no matter what the circumstances) in order to get myself in shape in time for camp, where she'll undoubtedly see me half-naked at least (anymore than that pending). Hmmm. Don't remember the last time she's gone out of her way to do something sweet for me, but that's not surprising.

Unhallowed Sanctum is coming along slowly. Shit is kind of hectic, and it's stressing me out. I need to get it all done. Kyle sent me an email that was supposed to contain the rough draft of the pdf, but I guess he forgot to attach it, so I am without anything to edit. I suppose I'll write that purposeless preface for the e-zine then, and get on "Stan the Hero" afterwards.

What else is there to say? Nothing.

And this is where you stop reading.

Now.

Seriously.

THE PENDING FILE! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

2005-04-28T13:10:00.000-07:00

YESSSSS! The editor of Twisted Cat Tales has already replied to my submission and has put it into the PENDING FILE. She said, "Congratulations on making the next level." She also informed me that once she's received all her submissions, she'll return to the Pending File and pick out her final selections.

IT'S LIKE I'VE MADE THE NBA FINALS BUT MUCH COOLER!!!!!!!!

You know what this means, people? This means I rock. Yes, bow down to me. Ian is the master. Ian is the material form of Cool.

Well, this certainly turns a rancid day into a very nice, very fresh one, if I do say so myself.

FUCK YES! I AM THE WINNER!

Back On Track

2005-04-28T10:22:00.000-07:00

Ian the Writer is back. I just finished "I Was a Teenage Feline" and sent it to Twisted Cat Tales (cat-themed anthology). Waiting for a reply. Now I'm beginning a humorous zombie story entitled "Stan the Hero" to send over to Aim for the Head (zombie-themed anthology). I don't know if I mentioned this before, but I finished a horror flash story called "I'll Never Be Clean Again" a couple days ago and sent it off to Nocturnal Ooze (horror fiction webzine).

It's great to be back.

Right now, "Stan the Hero" is sort of a vague idea, but I've got enough of the plot down to start and finish and have a reasonable bulk. It'll go fast. Hopefully it's funny as well.

Unhallowed Sanctum is behind schedule. Kyle just got hold of the cover art, and he still hasn't compiled the stories into pdf form. AND that bastard Reida needs to hurry up with the fucking reviews. Then, once the issue is FINALLY ready, I have to send it to five or six authors doing reviews of the e-zine, and post all of the blurbs before the issue comes out.

What is an editor to do?

Nothing, of course. My duty has been done. I can only wait and badger those that aren't fast enough. Oh, and work on the second issue.

Also, "Realms of the Dragons II" is out and I've GOT to get it. I'm really looking forward to the stories by Kameron, Ed, Erik, and Harley.

You know what I've just noticed? Everything I've been writing lately has been horror, or has at least contained horror elements. Not much I can say to that. I guess I'm losing interest in the fantasy genre, or maybe just gaining interest in horror.

But I have a good theory: Fantasy is pissing me off. I'm sorry to those who view this blog and are big fantasy junkies, but come on, you have to agree wtih me on this--no one in this blasted genre is original! I remember one of Kameron's posts concerning fantasy authors that have "ripped off" Tolkein. Kameron's response was "Who hasn't ripped off Tolkein?"

I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to disagree with Kameron on this. Tolkein, when he wrote The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, was setting a FOUNDATION for the fantasy genre, a genre in which people can LEARN from his books, but not straight-up steal from them. I'm not sure if Tolkein was trying to create a genre when writing these books, but, all the same--people have to have an imagination. That's why they call it FANTASY! You read Tolkein's stuff, you like it, and so you create your own world, in which you runs things your own way and manifest NEW monsters and NEW races and NEW sources of magic, so your work can have just as much of an impact on your readers as Tolkein's stuff had on YOU.

I realize that authors like Terry Brooks didn't have much to work with when they started writing in the seventies. I mean, there wasn't much fantasy out there, besides Tolkein, Howard, Dunsany, and Lovecraft.

BUT DOES THAT MEAN YOU HAVE TO RIP IT OFF SO?!

So what if you've only read one fantasy novel? You still have a fucking imagination, do you not? Then use it, you fucktard!

God has spoken.

Quick Like a Fox, Smart Like a Retracting Drink Holder

2005-04-25T13:14:00.000-07:00

Household sucks. Relationships suck. People suck. Vacuums suck. Cinematography in recent Hollywood action movies sucks. My eyes suck. Life sucks.

I cannot talk on the phone, therefore I am isolated from the rest of the world. That includes Kyle and Christina, two of the very, very few people that matter in my life. I cannot go on the computer, therefore I haven't been able to keep up on emails or finalize things in stories.

In very minor and insignificant news: My copy of "Madmen's Dreams" by Eric S. Brown (with D. Richard Pearce) arrived Saturday morning. It took three weeks to get here. I'm never ordering from Barnes & Noble again. Anyway, the book was good; the stories were really short, but I got used to it after a while and liked it a lot in the end. Eric S. Brown is a truly talented writer. Finished is Sunday afternoon.

In extremely fucktastically important and Earth-shakingly important news: I love Christina. She is the perfect girl. Just a picture of her will fill me with a rising happiness. A hug from her will plunge me into a state of stupefied bliss. A kiss sends me soaring into the heavens, lounging atop clouds and sipping virgin margeritas. She's the only one that matters.

My mom has been doing my mental status a great favor by calling me every day, giving me an excuse to contact someone outside the household (after all, she is my mom and who could ground me from talking to my mom?). She and Kyle are the only ones that understand me. My mom is so sympathetic, so helpful. She's the coolest. I'm just beginning to know my mom, since I never really got to know her for aforementioned reasons. But she's great.

Everyone is giving me shit and they don't care how it affects me. I would give more of an explanation, but I have to split. I have a hug from Christina to look forward to. She deprives me of my kisses, so this is what I have to work with.

On a side note: You guys have no idea how great it feels when Christina says something remotely sweet to me. She very rarely does it, so I often don't get to experience that great feeling. I don't know why I'm mentioning this now--maybe I'm depressed, or just need to hear something nice from someone I truly care about.

Anyway, I gotta get to English class. Ms. Cuellar is groovy, so she won't spazz if I'm late.

More Blows

2005-04-19T13:17:00.000-07:00

No, not the kind you're thinking of.

Christina's been having hard times as well, and I feel so bad because I can't do anything to help. She's the Light of my life. I love her so much. Due to idiocy and injustice, we have been kept from seeing and communicating with each other. So now, whenever I think of her, I take her picture out of my pocket and look at it. God, she's the most beautiful chick in the world. Why would I lie about that?

A flash story of mine was rejected. Woe is me.

I'm plowing through life at the pace of a turtle on its back in a tank of peanut butter. Hopefully--hear that? I said HOPE--life will get better, but I'm not holding out much faith.

BTW, I'm so stressed out that I've developed a twitch in my left eye. So don't worry, I wasn't winking at any of you. I'm taken anyway.

Groovy Lights Over a Dreary City

2005-04-18T12:59:00.000-07:00

Thanks to everyone who's offered advice and given me an ear. I really appreciate it.

As Erik said in his recent blog post, sometimes there are just those times when you start typing a blog entry without anything much to say. I'm having one of those moments right now. So, just for the hell of it, I'll talk about recent happenings in my life instead of the e-zine and Christina and whatnot.

Saturday my mom came down to visit. We had an awesome time. I got a new KMFDM ablum, a live Iggy Pop disc, and a Sisters of Mercy CD. We went to see Amatyville Horror, which turned out to be pretty good and frightening despite our poor expectations. All in all, we had a groovy time.

Yesterday I went out for driving lessons. Just the basics and whatnot. Turns out I'm a pretty good driver. I'm more aware of what's going on around me than I thought I'd be, and I'm a quick learner. The only problem I'm having is reversing into parking spaces. That shit is confusing!

I also finished "The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy" by Douglas Adams, which was just groovy. Very funny. I can't wait to get the next book.

Oh, here's a poem I wrote when I was really down a couple days ago (if there are any errors, please forgive me--I don't read much poetry and thus I have close to no understanding of its format):

"They Don't Know" by Ian Kappos

He doesn't like it here
Nobody knows
He cries inside
They don't know his woes

They yell and complain,
Make noise and prod
But they don't know
His manner is fraud

He holds the kitchen knife
Deadly and true
He slices his wrists
And says, "This is for you."

They find his body the next morning
Pale and dry
They don't know that
They're the reason he died.

Yeah, I know it sucks. I'm not going to lie: I'm no poet, and I never will be, so that's why I'm sharing this poem with you and not circulating it through the industry. I write poetry to write poetry, not to make money. Hell, I write stories to write stories, not to make money. The only reason I want to publish them is to get my name out there and share them with more people.

"I Want More" by The Sisters of Mercy is bouncing around in my head. Ah well. Who said that was a bad thing?

Well, I'm working through a hellish noir story to submit to Tabloid Purposes II (find it in the Anthologies Markets at Ralan.com--I'm too lazy to make a hyperlink) and a comedy-horror piece for Twisted Cat Tales (likewise). The noir story is currently untitled and the cat-comedy-horror story is entitled "I Was a Teenage Feline." I'm rather fond of it.

Again, thanks to everyone that's shown their concern. You don't know how much it means to me.

In a Ditch With My Legs Broken and My Eyes Sewn Shut

2005-04-15T12:57:00.000-07:00

Last night a load of terrible crap happened, and I came dangerously close to committing suicide. I don't feel I need to tell what happened, since the severity of it has already been noted in the word "suicide."

Let's just say that life is shit and my throat is the plumbing.

I have no future. I have no life. I have no true happiness. I have no particular talent. I just simply am. I'm here, for no other reason than to suffer.