Showing posts with label Thanks That Was Fun. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thanks That Was Fun. Show all posts

Thursday, July 03, 2025

Thanks, That Was....Fun?

I've been thinking a lot about writing, and why I haven't done much of it over the past few years. Part of it is time and the lack of it (we moved back to the Indianapolis area in early 2024 so I could help take care of my Mom, who has Alzheimer's). Another reason is that I've been channeling the creative energy I used to put into writing into making art, mainly painting and mixed media collage. You know what I love about art? It's fun and therapeutic in the way that writing used to be for me, but--unlike with writing--it's something you can show people and they can say things like, "Oh, cool!" Or, "Hmm, interesting." Or, "I don't get it, but okay." 

"Welcome To Whoever You Are"
analog collage 
2025


"Follow the Gleam"
analog collage
2025


"Cosmic Jam" 
analog collage
2025

The feedback is more immediate; it's something folks can look at, touch, and have an honest opinion about pretty quickly. Whereas when you write novels, everyone gets really enthusiastic and says things like, "Wow, you're an author? I can't wait to read your book when it's published!" And then sometimes they buy your work (but maybe don't read it, or at least they never mention it again) or they don't buy it, but still say things like, "You're really talented, keep it up," even though you suspect that they've never actually read anything you've written.   

I'm not complaining, and I don't take it personally, because of course it takes more energy and commitment to sit down and read a book than to, say, look a painting. And seriously? What I've learned about any sort of creative endeavor--writing, painting, et cetera--is that the work is its own reward, and if you're not doing it for yourself, you're doing it for the wrong reasons. As cliched as that sentiment may sound, it's also true.

The one novel I've published (I have five other novels that are mostly written, just unfinished) does okay in terms of sales, especially considering that I'm an indie author. Even though Thanks, That Was Fun has been out in the world since 2011, I still get purchase notifications fairly regularly, and they still make me happy. There is something undeniably thrilling when strangers discover and buy your work, and I can't see myself ever getting blase about that.

Overall, I'm satisfied with Thanks. There are a few parts that make me cringe, and certain portions that I obsess over when I go back and read them, thinking, shit--if only I could revise that now! But for the most part, I'm proud of the novel. 

Lately, for the first time in several years (since the pandemic, anyway), I've started writing again--just here and there, enough to get the old juices flowing. There are two of my WIPs (Works-In-Progress, i.e. the unfinished novels mentioned above) that I have decided to go back to, complete, and probably publish independently. The other ones? We'll see. 

****************************************************************************

Recently I've been going through some of my old journals. Ever do that? WOW. Some of the more entertaining bits--to me, anyway--are the entries I wrote when I was chemically altered. Here is the part where I make the obligatory, "Kids? Don't do drugs," statement, or more accurately: "Do as I say, not as I did." These are a few scribblings from 2008, when I popped an Ambien late one night and thought it would be fun to make myself stay awake and write. (It probably was fun, but of course I don't remember it. I do remember gorging myself on carrots dipped in peanut butter, because Ambien makes you do shit like that, and also having a conversation with an imaginary person sitting next to me on the couch.) Anyway....


A hot mess obviously, but I'll translate my fucked up handwriting......

Better to live in a drunken state than a noodle variation of the oman is rate you know it's all the best when you go to the miller

Yeah, my little experiment with Ambien-induced writing didn't exactly produce anything earth-shattering (and this was by far the most coherent passage of the bunch). But I bet if Taylor Swift dropped one of her surprise albums featuring a track with the same lyrics, the media would eat that shit up with a spoon. I can see the reviews now:

Jezebel.com - "Taylor Swift seems to be channeling Arthur Rimbaud and Jim Morrison, and we are here for it!"

AV Club - "Taylor Swift's dark new release leans into the esoteric."

I could go on, but you get the idea.

An aside: it's funny how dated Ambien references are now. Like, it was such a mid-2000s drug to do, only seeming to exist in a very specific post-MySpace era, when Britney Spears was flashing her minge at the paparazzi, and we all thought Dubya would go down as the worst president in history. 

Tuesday, November 08, 2016

Donald Trump is a Fart in a Mitten

Yeah I don't know what that means either, but I remember someone writing that about Paris Hilton back when she was a thing, and I thought it was funny. 


I also wrote that because there is a fairly good chance that someday DJT himself will stumble upon the phrase "DONALD TRUMP IS A FART IN A MITTEN," because if there's one bitch who stays up Googling himself at 3am, it's The Donald. That's a proven fact.

I was watching a clip of some rabid Trump supporters last night, and something dawned on me. It wasn't a particularly smart or insightful revelation, but here it is: Remember when Charlie Sheen had his public psychotic break a few years ago, and he had that disturbing fanbase of aging fratty white dudes cheering him on?  

This is all I could find on Google for "Charlie Sheen fans."
Still, I feel like it's a pretty fair representation. 

And these douchebro types were all like, "WOO HOO! Finally a guy who says what I think!"

An example of Charlie saying what they're thinking: 


"Ugly wives?" "Loser lives?" Ummmm......America? Does that sound like anyone else we know? 


I guess what I'm saying is--seriously, America--don't do it, don't fucking elect this blathering orange turd. And don't you dare be a dick and vote for Gary Johnson or do a write-in vote for your penis or whatever. VOTE FOR HILLARY. Stop crying about Bernie Sanders not getting the nomination. I don't care that Hillary is not who you want, because guess what? You know who I want to be President?

I want Simon Le Bon. Yep. I want Simon Le Bon to be President and Debbie Harry to be Vice President and the two of them can come to my house and bring me a pony and then Simon and Debbie can fly me around in a helicopter and we can wave at everyone and throw Duran Duran albums and candy to the adoring throngs below and land on the roof of the White House and have a picnic and both Simon and Debbie will tell me that I'm their favorite author ever and that they're going to declare Thanks, That Was Fun, like, the National Novel of America, whatever that is (I assume it's a special honor they'll create just for me) and that they want me to help them make all the important decisions and come to all the fancy White House dinners and help pass a law that requires everyone everywhere to become vegan. 

Also, there are unicorns.

Pictured: America under a Le Bon presidency. And that's the castle where John and I live with all our rescue cats.
 Plus my pony.

Realistically, however, that's not going to happen this time around. Maybe in another four years, who knows. But this election? I voted for Hillary.

And now here comes the obligatory video that every Duranie posts on election day. But for me, it has a deeper meaning (see above). 

Because Bon. SIMON Le Bon.


"Hi guys, by the way..."



Friday, December 05, 2014


Okay, so this blog has been semi-comatose for a while, but I do have an excuse...for the month of November, anyway. See graphic above. YES, I actually won NaNoWriMo this year! I wrote a 50,000 word novel between Nov. 1 - Nov. 30. Hallelujah!

This was my fourth attempt at NaNoWriMo. I entered in 2010 and made it to around 10,000 words before running out of inspiration for that particular project. I still have what remains of the manuscript, so it's something I may go back to at some point. I tried NaNo again in 2012 (working title: Wreckage), but didn't get past the third day. This time it was a case of having a very vague idea of a story, one not fully formed in my head enough to keep up my momentum. Then last year, 2013, I had an awesome idea for TWO sequels to Thanks, That Was Fun. My 2013 NaNoWriMo plan was to start on In Spite of Me, the second installment of my would-be trilogy. (The Morphine album Cure For Pain was the inspiration, hence the book title.). But that fell apart about 16,000 words in. I don't quite know what happened there, but I still have all my outlines and I will definitely return to ISoM in the future.

And then, this year. This year! Fourth time was the charm. I wrote my ass off for 30 days and ended up with 50,107 words. The novel is nowhere near finished. In fact, it's only 3/4 of the way there, and much editing needs to be done. But still, I DID IT!

My 2014 NaNoWriMo novel is, incidentally, titled Harleighwood. I'm giving myself a week off before I go back and start editing and adding to fully complete it.

But for now, YES! It is finished. Temporarily.

Sunday, November 03, 2013


CHECK IT OUT!

Everything Marie, an absolutely fabulous site that helps indie authors promote their books via blog tours, reviews, and interviews. The site is owned and operated by blogger Tiffany Marie, who also reviews upcoming films and newly released DVDs. In short, the girl is AWESOME!

Tiffany is promoting Thanks, That Was Fun with a blog tour beginning December 5th and concluding December 19. I am beyond ecstatic!
Take a look at her website here.

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

I recently had the opportunity to chat with author Morgan Richter for Praxis Magazine. The interview went live on Sunday morning. But you might have missed it because your Sunday morning was spent singing hymns in church, say. Or sleeping off a Saturday night bender (at times it seems there is no end to long, hard nights of drinking). Or falling over on the couch again (but you know, not all sleep is wasted). Incidentally, anyone who can correctly identify those lyrics gets a shiny new ball point pen from Coyote Moon, my favorite local candle/crystal/Tarot emporium.

Here we go. 

The Praxis Interview: Morgan Richter
Originally published on September 15, 2013

I discovered Morgan Richter’s work serendipitously while searching for images from Sing Blue Silver, the 1984 film documenting the North American leg of Duran Duran’s 1983 – 84 world tour. The search led me to a “Duranalysis” on Richter’s blog, Preppies of the Apocalypse. Her Duranalysis of Sing Blue Silverwas a funny, film scholarly dissection of the celebrated documentary, and I fell in love with Richter’s writing straight away. After reading through more of her posts, I learned that she holds a BFA from USC’s film school, worked in production on several TV shows, authored three award-winning novels: Bias Cut (which is also available in paperback), Charlotte Dent, and Wrong City, and even founded her own publishing company.

Ms. Richter recently took time to chat with us about her novels, her film school background, her work as an associate producer on Talk Soup, and–of course–Duran Duran.

Praxis: Do you feel that you were born a writer?


Morgan Richter: I can’t remember a time when I didn’t write. My parents were both preposterously intelligent and creative, and academic achievement was strongly encouraged in our family. Every summer, our parents prepared daily academic lessons for my sister and me. The subjects changed weekly, but math, science, logic, and creative writing were always heavily covered. I still have a stack of spiral notebooks filled with short stories, most of which I wrote between the ages of six and ten. I was a hardcore L. Frank Baum junkie from a very early age, so many of my stories were set in fantastical worlds that were shameless Oz knockoffs.

I lost a lot of writing momentum in junior high and high school. I still wrote quite a bit—I wrote a feature-length screenplay about motorcycle gangs as well as a very bad speculate script for an episode of, ahem, 21 Jump Street when I was in junior high, plus a never-completed Tolkien-esque fantasy novel when I was in high school. But I didn’t have the discipline I’d had in those very early years.

I don’t know whether I was born a writer. I was born with a good imagination, which my parents encouraged me to develop, and I was a voracious reader from an early age; anyone who wants to write needs both of those qualities. I think there was always an assumption—from my parents, from my friends, from my teachers, from myself—that I would grow up to become a writer. I couldn’t really see myself pursuing a creative writing degree, though, so I went to USC’s film school instead and completed their undergraduate screenwriting program.

P: What’s your writing process like?


MR: The short version of my writing process goes something like this: brainstorm, outline, write, rewrite, rewrite, rewrite. I like spending a few months brainstorming—I write in a journal each morning, in which I jot down fragments of ideas that eventually coalesce into better ideas, until I end up with the general thrust of a story. I’m a big fan of outlining. I’ve written books with outlines and without outlines, and the former method results in a much cleaner first draft. My outlines tend to be ludicrously detailed—almost more like a very sloppy rough draft, with every scene described in as much detail as I can manage and with rough chunks of dialogue already in place.

I like blitzing through first drafts at lightning speed. I aim for about three thousand words a day. My books tend to be on the short side—Charlotte Dentis my longest published book, and that one comes in at under ninety thousand words—so I can usually get through a rough draft in a month, writing every day. Mornings, particularly the wee hours, tend to be my most productive time, but I try to train myself to be as flexible as possible about when and where I write.

I’m very big on rewriting. Usually my general storyline doesn’t change too much from that first draft—I blame my film school training; it’s given me a very strong sense of story structure—but my first-draft prose is inevitably clunky and belabored. During the rewrite process, I go through my entire document over and over again, streamlining my prose, rearranging sentences, deleting repetition, zapping the adverbs and scrutinizing my word choices. My final version is always ten to fifteen percent shorter than the first draft. I don’t talk about the story or, god forbid, let anyone look at it until I’ve gone through several passes and am feeling pretty confident that it’s close to a finished product.

P: What did you learn over the course of writing your first three novels?

MR: I learned that I use the word “awesome” with alarming frequency. I also learned that my characters shrug far too often—really, whenever I need an easy beat in the middle of a bit of dialogue, I add in a shrug. I’m trying very, very hard to eradicate lazy shortcuts like that. I also learned that I am weak at metaphors; whenever I try to write a particularly flowery passage, it tends to stop my story cold in its track. I have a crisp, clean, straightforward prose style; I’ve learned I should encourage this and leave the poetry to other writers. I learned that I write very clumsy first drafts. Luckily, I also learned that I have a knack for rewriting and a good eye for editing, which goes a long way toward mitigating the initial clumsiness.

P: In what order were they written?

MR: I wrote the first draft of Charlotte Dent in 2006, when I was working at a bad desk job while seriously beginning to question whether I was kidding myself about ever finding happiness and success in the entertainment industry. Charlotte is not me and her experiences are not mine, not entirely, but she’s probably the character with whom I share the most common ground, especially with regard to her growing antipathy for Hollywood. Wrong City was written in 2010; it’s actually a sequel of sorts to Anathema, a book I wrote in 2005 but have not yet published–and perhaps never will–it’s in pretty rank shape. “Sequel” is the wrong word, actually; it’s set in the same wacked-out, vaguely supernatural version of Los Angeles, and some of the peripheral characters cross over into both books, but it features a different protagonist, and the events of Wrong City are not affected by anything that happens in Anathema.

I wrote Bias Cut in late 2011; it was a semi-finalist for the 2012 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award and won a silver medal in the 2013 Independent Publisher Book Awards. Before starting Bias Cut, I was torn between two wholly different story concepts—I wanted to write a surreal post-apocalyptic alternate-history tale, in which the world was largely destroyed in a nuclear attack in 1984 and, almost thirty years later, is still in the process of rebuilding, and I wanted to write a story about an inter-generational friendship between two lost souls. I wanted to write both books simultaneously, I wanted to use the same characters in both, and I wanted to make both books deeply interconnected and yet exist as separate entities—readers wouldn’t need to read one to understand the other.
So… I wrote Bias Cut first. It’s the story of Laurie Sparks, a flamboyant young gay fashion designer, and Nicola, the jaded older woman who becomes his unlikely Platonic soulmate. There’s a nice little mystery involved, but it clearly should be classified as general fiction. And then, after I was done, I wrote the first draft of Lonely Satellite, which is the Bizarro-world version of Bias Cut. This time around, in this alternate version of events, a somewhat tougher version of Laurie is fending his way through a dangerous post-apocalyptic world, running into tweaked versions of the same characters and predicaments he experienced in Bias Cut, only in a more bizarre setting.
There are Easter eggs for Lonely Satellite hidden throughout Bias Cut, by the way. The theme of Laurie’s upcoming fashion collection, the identity of Laurie’s mother, the references to events that happened in the eighties, all of these are tiny clues to what happens in Lonely Satellite.

P: How is Lonely Satellite coming along?

MR: My first draft of Lonely Satellite was a shambles. But I recently finished the final rewrite, and it looks pretty solid. Now I’m coordinating with my graphic designer regarding last-minute cover revisions. It’s set for release in October.

P: What’s your best source of inspiration?

MR: I’m inspired by life and pop culture in equal doses. In film school, a popular exercise in screenwriting class was to flip through a newspaper, find a story, and extract an idea for a feature script from that. My brain doesn’t really work that way; I don’t think I’ve ever come up with a workable plot idea from a news story. And frankly, the whole process reminds me too much of the wayLaw & Order used to smugly proclaim that a particular episode was “ripped from the headlines!”, as if that automatically gave the story more gravitas.
The germ of inspiration for the character of Laurie Sparks, of Bias Cut andLonely Satellite, came from Duran Duran’s Nick Rhodes, circa 1984. Like Nick, Laurie is tiny and beautiful and effeminate and thoroughly spoiled, but with a surprisingly sturdy soul. They’re far from the same person, though; they’re more different than alike, but Nick was my starting point. At the same time, much of Bias Cut (and Charlotte Dent and Wrong City as well) comes from my own experiences in the entertainment industry and from living in Los Angeles and, currently, New York City. It’s a hodgepodge, but hopefully an entertaining one.

P: I had a feeling Nick Rhodes was partially the inspiration for Laurie Sparks! Although Laurie is such a fascinating, multi-layered character on his own.

MR: Thank you! Laurie is my favorite fictional creation to date. He’s just fun to write. Yeah, very specifically, the first fragment of an idea for Laurie Sparks came from watching a behind-the-scenes feature on the making of Duran Duran’s Arena—you know, their bizarre, incomprehensible sci-fi themed 1984 concert film? There’s a segment in which Nick Rhodes is unhappy about his proposed wardrobe for their “Wild Boys” video—the other four Durans get to wear these cool head-to-toe leather outfits, and he’s stuck with this ratty felt cape-like thing. So Nick, who is this tiny, gorgeous, glamorous little creature, sits down cross-legged on the floor of the sewing room and starts gluing sparkly jewels all over a leather jacket to make his own costume. It’s this amazing, strange, hilarious moment. For Laurie, I wanted to capture that weird mixture of someone who seems so over-the-top and shallow and flighty, but who actually has a whole lot going on beneath that very decorative surface.
There were other influences on Laurie along the way—a dollop of both Austin Scarlett and Christian Siriano from Project Runway, maybe some Adam Lambert, maybe some Sailor Moon—but that first spark came from Nick.


P: Okay then, about Duran Duran….

MR: Ah, Duran Duran. Did I mention that my upcoming book is called Lonely Satellite(Ed. note–”Lonely satellite” is a lyric from the Duran Duran song “New Moon on Monday”.) It’s funny—for as much as Duran Duran seems to have taken over aspects of my life lately, I’ve never really considered myself a full-on Duranie, though I suppose I must qualify for the title. I was born in 1974, which put me on the young side of their fanbase when they broke through to mainstream popularity in the early eighties, but I shamelessly adored them anyway. They were beautiful and glamorous and sophisticated, and I loved the universes portrayed in their music videos—the Sri Lankan street scenes in “Hungry Like the Wolf”, the champagne-soaked yacht in the Caribbean in “Rio”, and particularly the post-apocalyptic wastelands of “Wild Boys” and “Union of the Snake.” It’s probably impossible to overstate the importance of that iconic “Wild Boys” video on my creative development.
I moved to Los Angeles for college in 1991, which was sort of a bleak time for Duran Duran—Seattle grunge rock had just broken through in a big way, and the glammed-out New Wave bands of the eighties were deemed terminally uncool in the nineties. I more or less neglected Duran Duran for the next twenty years. Their Decade greatest-hits CD was always on heavy rotation in my apartment, but I dabbled only occasionally into their more contemporary stuff. I don’t think I’ve ever even listened to their Liberty album. Or Big Thing, for that matter. In many ways, I am a rotten excuse for a Duranie.

Then in 2011, I experienced a Duran Duran renaissance. I was fast approaching my lowest point—I’d seen a number of very promising writing gigs fizzle out, I was sad and uninspired, and my father had just been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. As a lark, I started posting my tongue-in-cheek analyses of vintage Duran videos over on my personal website, Preppies of the Apocalypse. The site name, by the way, is taken from a screenplay I wrote circa 1999, which drew inspiration from, yep, the “Wild Boys” video. It all comes full circle. In a short time, these analyses took on a life of their own, striking a strong nostalgia chord with a wide readership. At one point, the band’s former guitarist, Andy Taylor, started reposting them over on his official website, which was a pretty amazing development.

From Andy Taylor’s Twitter feed:

Vive la Révolution! It’s time to analyze @DuranDuran‘s “New Moon on Monday” video with @morganrichter! Find it here.
— Andy Taylor (@andytaylor_tv) May 9, 2012

I’m sure my current Duran mania stems very specifically from an attempt to recapture the feeling of that long-lost period in time, the early eighties, back when my parents were young and healthy, when I thought I was ever so smart and precocious, when it seemed like anything was possible.

P: I’m curious to know how you come up with character names. So many of them–Charlotte Dent, Laurie Sparks, and most of the ones populating Wrong City–have very distinctive, memorable names.


MR: Charlotte Dent is an easy one. She’s been somewhat damaged by her time in Hollywood, so “Dent” seemed like a good choice. And “Charlotte Dent” sounds something like “charlatan”, which fit well; the whole book is about identity and self-worth, and how Charlotte constantly feels like an imposter in the film industry. She gets cast in a film based on her appearance, even though no one involved with the production has any idea whether she can act. When she’s injured on the set, her stunt double takes her place in some shots, and nobody can tell the difference. She constantly gets confused with other young actresses and misidentified in press photos; after her boyfriend leaves her, he takes up with another actress who looks much like her. So even though she’s trying her best to carve out some kind of unique identity, she has a growing suspicion that she might be a fraud, or at best, a replaceable commodity.


For Laurie Sparks, I wanted to give him a gender-neutral first name, leaning more toward feminine–and “Sparks” is just because Laurie is a very sparkly kind of guy–I would’ve named him “Laurie Sparkle” if I thought I could get away with it. Laurie’s real first name is Laurent, and there’s no way anyone has ever called him Larry. Laurie is a boy who likes kissing other boys, and who likes wearing makeup and dressing in satin and velvet, and he really can’t be bothered to care if anyone has any kind of problem with that. I wanted a name that establishes him right away as someone special—he’s a famous designer and a reality TV star, and he’s got the name to match.
For Wrong City’s Sparky Mother, I wanted a name that would be hard for readers to get a handle on. “Sparky” is kind of an uncool name, and “Mother” really isn’t any kind of typical surname at all. When we meet Sparky, he’s this polished, charming, sophisticated guy who seems to wield a lot of influence in the entertainment industry, but it’s tough to figure out what his deal is, exactly. And he’s got these flat-out dorky business cards, and there’s a lot about him that makes no sense, and there are definitely sinister undercurrents to everything he says or does. So the trick was in coming up with a name that captured all those uneasy, nebulous qualities he possesses. The character of Troy, Vish’s girlfriend, functions as a Trojan horse—she gets past Vish’s defenses, which allows something potentially catastrophic to enter his life—so that seemed like an apt name. Vish himself—short for Viswanathan—is named for Grandmaster Viswanathan Anand. I play a lot of chess.

Not all of my character names have any particular meaning. I’ll often just jam in the very first name that springs to mind when I’m pounding out a first draft. About half of the time, I won’t ever come up with a better replacement for it, so it’ll end up sticking.


P: You mentioned that Charlotte Dent is your longest novel, which is surprising. I breezed through it in a weekend, and loved it.

MR: Thank you. Even though a lot happens to Charlotte along the way, I think the pacing in Charlotte is pretty brisk throughout, without much meandering. A complaint I sometimes hear from readers, which I feel is pretty valid, is that my books end too abruptly, or that they wrap up too quickly. Fair enough, though I tend to think my endings fall right where it’s most natural for them to fall, which is usually only a few pages after the climax. It’s a matter of personal preference, but unless we’re talking about The Lord of the Rings, I’m usually not fond of prolonged denouements.


P: With your experiences on Talk Soup and America’s Funniest Home Videos,plus your life as a writer and founder of Luft Books, have you ever thought of writing a memoir?


MR: Not at all, never. I enjoy reading memoirs, but I’m not inclined to pen one myself. I think I’d have a hard time resisting the urge to mythologize my past and assign deep hidden meaning to the more mundane aspects of my life. I seem very sensible and stable on the surface, but I’m constantly suppressing my inner drama queen. In fiction, I’m okay with streamlining the events in a character’s life down to the strongest, sleekest narrative thread. In Charlotte Dent, for instance, we see the handful of events, positive and negative, that lead Charlotte to start to readjust her thinking regarding a career in the entertainment industry. Real life, though, doesn’t provide a straightforward narrative. If I were to write about my experiences working in the television industry, I’d have to whittle those experiences down to just a handful of events that could support a strong narrative. Knowing myself as I do, I suspect I’d end up sacrificing some honesty to make it a cleaner, stronger story.

I’m probably explaining that poorly. I’ll try again with a clear example: I don’t really know why I’m no longer working in television. There are so many reasons, some that make perfect sense. I had a bad experience working on Job A, and I couldn’t find work after leaving Job B, and I thought I’d be happier writing novels. I had a pretty good shot at getting Job C, but I didn’t pursue it hard enough, and I don’t really know why. If I were writing about this, I’d either have to leave out the reasons that don’t make sense, or shoehorn them into the narrative in a way that makes sense but maybe isn’t entirely true. I think I’d end up feeling dissatisfied with that.
Actually, I could probably write a short, gossipy, shamelessly name-dropping book about working on Talk Soup (“Erik Estrada is awesome!”). That’d probably work out okay. That was a great just-out-of-college job, and one hell of a fun place to work.

P: Tell us more about Luft Books. What motivated you to start it?

MR: Luft Books was born entirely out of frustration and grief. I graduated from film school in 1995, full of promise and ambition. For the first few years after graduation, I was on a pretty good path. I’d worked in production on a number of television shows—I was an associate producer of E!’s Talk Soup, for instance, and a production coordinator on America’s Funniest Home Videos—but, despite having a whole stack of spec screenplays I was shopping around, I wasn’t getting any closer to a career in writing. Production work dried up, and I went through a long series of bad temp jobs, of unemployment and underemployment. The good news is that my creative writing output went way up during this time. I made the switch from screenplays to novels in 2000 and have churned out roughly a book every couple of years since then, along with a few stray screenplays.
It’s such a cliché to complain about the impenetrability of the traditional publishing industry that I can’t bring myself to do it here. I know there are people who will assume I didn’t try hard enough to get my books published through traditional means; I also know there are people who will assume I wasn’t a good enough writer to get my books published through traditional means. The subject exhausts me, so all I will say about that is this: They are wrong.

My mother died in 2008; my father died last year. Throughout my life, they’d been unflinching champions of my talent and potential; after I lost them, I felt horrified and deeply ashamed that I’d never accomplished anything of significance during their lifetimes. So last summer, a couple months after my dad’s death, I took a hard look at the backlog of well-written, eminently publishable novels I’d built up over the years, and decided to do whatever I could to get them into print. Ergo, Luft Books was formed.

Thus far, in its first year, I’ve published four books under the Luft name—three of my own, plus one from an excellent Australian science-fiction author,Disconnected by A.K. Adler. Lonely Satellite is scheduled for an October release. Next year, if all goes according to plan, I’d like to start adding more authors to the Luft Books family. I know a whole slew of very good authors who’ve written publishable, marketable books that they’ve been unable to shepherd through the traditional publishing system. I hope someday Luft can provide them with a viable alternative, should they want one.






Born and raised in Spokane, Washington, Morgan Richter graduated with a BFA in Filmic Writing from the University of Southern California’s film school. She has worked in production on several TV shows, including Talk Soup and America’s Funniest Home Videos, and contributes pop culture reviews and essays to websites such as TVgasmand Forces of Geek, as well as to her own site,Preppies of the Apocalypse.


Ms. Richter is the owner of Luft Books, an independent publishing company, and the author of Bias CutCharlotte Dent, and Wrong CityBias Cut won a silver medal at the 2013 Independent Publishers Book Awards and was a 2012 semi-finalist for the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award (ABNA): Charlotte Dent was a 2008 ABNA semi-finalist. Her upcoming novel Lonely Satellite is scheduled for release in early October. She currently lives in New York City.

*********   Buy my novel Thanks That Was Fun, available on Kindle and non-Kindles  ***********

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

THIS is 40



Yesterday, August 19, 2013 (at 2:18pm, if you want to get really precise)  I turned 40. I'm happy about it.

I'm thankful that I survived my twenties, a very difficult decade for me (I'm hardly alone on that one; most people my age say they hated their twenties). It wasn't all bad; I did have some great times in my twenties. But I wouldn't want to go back.

My thirties were decent overall. Things started out crappy. I had a few minor nervous breakdowns between the ages of 30 - 32. But by the time I was 33 (2006) I'd hit my stride. I was feeling happy and confident, and had finally landed a job I enjoyed. My love life was spotty--as it often was back then--but I had some great adventures. Even with all the mistakes and missteps I made during my thirties, I don't regret a thing.

So now I've made it to age 40. I'm a published author, I'm happy, I'm content, I'm married. Comfy home, purring cats, fantastic friends, great husband.

It's all good.

******************************

Now for some fun.

This milestone birthday has got me thinking. I've been writing a lot about my early childhood, and I'm amazed by how much I remember, especially about 1970's pop culture. I was born in 1973 and was only seven years old by the time 1980 rolled around. But, as I've discovered, I've retained a lot from that decade.

1970's Kid
My mom was a housewife (I guess "homemaker" is the correct term now) for a good part of my early childhood. She kept a small transistor radio in the kitchen of our house in Greensburg, Indiana--this was before we moved to "the big city" of Indianapolis in late 1978--and my first memories of pop music involved Paul Simon, The Carpenters, and John Denver, piped through that little radio in the kitchen.

The song: Paul Simon  50 Ways To Leave Your Lover.
The memory: I was about four years old and my mom was standing in the kitchen, making me a peanut butter sandwich for lunch. She was singing along to "50 Ways" as it played on that little kitchen radio. When it got to the "Hop on the bus, Gus!" part, I collapsed on the floor in a fit of giggles, picturing a little man named "Gus" hopping up and down on top of a school bus. My mom started laughing at me while I laughed my crazy little "Snoopy laugh" (as she called it), and the more she laughed, the more I laughed, and the longer the song played, the more we both laughed until she had to sit down on the kitchen chair and I was rolling around on the floor and my stomach hurt from laughing but I couldn't stop so I just laid there, all giggly and out of breath. It's one of my favorite childhood memories.

The song: The Carpenters Top of the World. (Oh man. Watch the video I linked to. It's adorable. Why can't we all be sweet and innocent like that again?)

I loved this song when I was a wee one, even though I didn't quite have a handle on the lyrics, as you'll see.

The memory:  My dad worked in advertising, and occasionally his colleagues and their wives would come over to our house in Greensburg for dinner and/or cocktails. I was about four or five years old, so naturally I took it upon myself to provide the evening's entertainment whenever my parents had "company" over.

The grownups would be sitting in the living room, enjoying cocktails and smoking cigarettes and talking about Billie Jean King or Barry Manilow or the energy crisis or whatever grownups talked about in the seventies. The living room was in full view of the staircase that led up to the bedrooms. We had this giant brown leather beanbag chair, and I'd drag it over to the bottom of the stairs, climb to the top of the steps (it was only about seven steps--we had a split-level home) and shout:

"I'm on the top of the world, looking down on creation, and the only essplanation.....I CAN FLY!" 

Then I'd take a running leap and cannonball down the seven steps into the big brown beanbag chair, to the delight of (most of) the adults. Their applause and laughter were like catnip to me, so I did it again and again. After about my fourth encore, my dad would say, "Okay, you're getting all wound up now. Time for bed." And then my mom would shepherd me to my bedroom even though it was WAY before my official bedtime and I hadn't even had dessert or watched Donny and Marie or anything. (Shut up. I liked The Donny and Marie Show). So unfair.

Don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry. 
Some years later, I learned that my dad's boss (one of the guests who frequented my parents' little cocktail hours) used to nudge my dad and say, "You gotta get that kid into commercials."

Alas, my parents didn't heed that advice, and so I was doomed to a childhood of anonymity.

The song: Any and all John Denver songs prior to 1982
The memory: Jeez. So many. My mom loved John Denver, and his music was ubiquitous in our household when I was a little kid. He was almost like a member of the family; the sweet hippie uncle I never had. (My mom's brother is a very nice guy, but he's a rich Republican--a white sheep in a family of black sheep.) I was devastated when John Denver died. It really was like losing a relative. I wish he was still around. I think he could have had a career resurgence, now that the Baby Boomers are all old and nostalgic.

If I could narrow it down, I'd probably say my favorite John Denver-related memory happened in 2000, when I was 27 years old and in love with a sensitive artist type, a 23-year-old painter who ate, drank, lived and breathed 1960's and 70's acoustic folk music. He loved the Mamas and the Papas, Simon and Garfunkel, Peter Paul and Mary, Don MacLean, Jim Croce, and John Denver. This guy--okay, let's go ahead and call him Louis, since he was the inspiration for that character in my novel and he's also very unlikely to read this--was the only person I'd met outside my family who shared my love for John Denver and his music. Louis and I drove from Indianapolis to Shades State Park in the summer of 2000, singing along to John Denver's "Take Me Home, Country Roads" on the tape deck for much of the journey. Yeah, that was a good time.      



I kinda like writing about this music/memory stuff. I'll be posting more bits like this in the coming weeks.
 

Friday, December 21, 2012

Oh Lena Dunham, I love you so hard.

I have mixed feelings about the mainstream success of Lena Dunham and her brilliant TV show, "Girls." On one hand, I think it's awesome that such an edgy and authentic program with an unconventional (and occasionally unlikable) female lead character has caught on with the public. On the other hand, I worry that its popularity could cause the show's writing and storylines to take a more conventional, "safe" direction over time. It's like when you sort of "discover" and fall in love with the work of a quirky author or a singer or band completely on your own, without anyone else's endorsement or recommendation--you just find them and you're like "YES! This is what I've been looking for! THIS speaks to me!" and then six months (or six years) down the line "your" band (or singer, author, etc.) becomes HUGE and you're happy and excited, but it's also a letdown, because they're not "yours" anymore and now everyone knows about them and things are never the same.

I'd rather be happy about it, though. I'm definitely happy for Lena Dunham, because I really love her work and what she's doing with "Girls." Perhaps I am blinded by my love and (as a writer) I could be dissecting the series too much, but one of the things that delights me about "Girls" is that it's like a big metaphorical middle finger to all the cliched crap Hollywood keeps pooping out that's supposedly aimed at women. One of the things that drives me nuts about romantic comedies these days is that they'll take a beautiful size-2 actress like Katherine Heigl and give her an impossibly gigantic apartment and a high-powered career and an expensive wardrobe and then they're like--"Wait, she needs some sort of flaw so that she's 'relatable.' Let's see....Oooh, I got it! Make her clumsy! Holy shit, that's genius!" Seriously, have the Hollywood committees who crank out that kind of bullshit ever actually met any women, or any human beings for that matter?

It's bad enough that they made her act with Ashton Kutcher
Then you have Dunham's "Girls" protagonist Hannah Horvath, a disheveled, tattooed ball of not-size-2 insecure awesomeness who can't keep a job, drinks too much, says things like, "My shoes match my dress! Kind of!" and seeks solace in awkward sex with her odd, emotionally distant sort-of-boyfriend/hookup who "treats (her) heart like it's monkey meat."

And did I mention that she's a frustrated writer?
Yeah, I have no idea why this character resonates so much with me.
I can't wait for season two. I sincerely hope that "Girls" (and Dunham, since she is also the show's creator, writer, director and executive producer) stays true to Hannah and the supporting characters, resisting any pressure to sweeten them up and make them more palatable to mainstream audiences. Seriously, I've had it up to my ass with palatable heroines.

Change we can believe in.


*******OBVIOUS BOOK PLUG GOES HERE*******











Tuesday, September 11, 2012

****UPDATE JUNE 2026****
Got a Simon tip/sighting? Email simonreidtips@gmail.com


Wednesday 9/12/12 
9pm EST (8pm in Minnesota)
Investigation Discovery Channel

I'm going to be on TV again! Well, me and my friend Kate (she's my character witness) and of course Jo, Laura and Nicola. That's right, our story was chosen for the excellent--and highly addictive--Investigation Discovery Channel program "Who the Bleep?" It was formerly called "Who the Bleep Did I Marry?"  but the show's scope has broadened to include ex-girlfriends/boyfriends/significant others of con men and women living double lives (e.g. Simon Reid), and not just their spouses.

The team from Sirens Media --Brigette, Diana, Eric and Johnny--flew in from D.C. to Minneapolis to film interviews with me and Kate and film B-roll footage. It was really nice to stay put for a change--they came right to my door!

A film crew in the living room! I felt like a stah.
I had such a great time with everyone! The crew was cool, so personable and so much fun; I liked them all right away. The interview was a little nerve-wracking (they always are) but Diana, who interviewed me, was awesome and made me feel at ease. The fun part of it for me was shooting the B-roll. They filmed me walking down the street, talking on my phone, typing at my laptop, petting my cats (Audrey really took to being in the spotlight. I swear she's a Leo), writing in my notebook, making tea, and gazing out of my front window. Both Brigette and Diana kept apologizing for how much B-roll they had to shoot, but I didn't mind at all. You haven't lived until you've strolled around Uptown, trying to look nonchalant while you're being shot by a professional film crew, and everyone walking by is trying to figure out if they should know who you are or if there's some kind of weird new reality show being shot in Minneapolis or if someone is making another indie film or what. It's not like shooting on the street in Manhattan, where they're so used to film crews and famous people milling about that they barely even notice anymore.

Me in front of the duplex. This wasn't taken during the filming, but
I'm wearing the same top in the interview. Close enough.

After they filmed me, Kate came over and they interviewed her and shot some B-roll of her by herself, plus some footage of us just chatting, goofing off, sitting in the garden, and walking around the block.

Some really cool things about the experience:


  • They highlighted the fact that I'm a writer, which rocked! In most of the Simon Reid stories I'm referred to as just a blogger (not that just being a blogger isn't cool) but it was gratifying to actually be taken seriously. I talked about my book a bit in the interview--I won't know until the show airs if that part made it into the final edit--but still, I really appreciated their interest. 
  • During the shoot Diana and Brigette pointed out all the paintings that my roommates and I had hanging on our walls. Most of it was original work by our friend Rachel, who is a professional artist. They said they'd love to feature it but they would need a signed release from her first. Rachel was living in Asheville, NC at the time but she was able to get the paperwork quickly enough for some of her work to (hopefully) make it onto the show!
  • The whole crew really fell in love with Uptown. We went to lunch twice at Common Roots (a restaurant that has a special place in my heart--the site of my first date with John) and got several gallons of coffee at Urban Bean, where Diana ended up buying an "I heart MPLS" t-shirt!
A few weeks after the Sirens gang shot my segment, they flew to the UK to chat and film with Jo, Laura and Nicola to get the rest of the story...a story which will be beamed around the world courtesy of Sirens Media and the Investigation Discovery Channel tomorrow night, 9/12 at 9pm EST (just in case you needed a reminder). Like I said, "Who the Bleep?" (now in its third season) is super addictive. Go to their site and get comfy, because once you start watching clips of the show it's hard to stop! 

And one more plug for the road....

Available now for Kindle and all other e-readers.

Friday, June 29, 2012

Hallo, I'm Andie Nash! You may know me from the 20/20 "Bad Romance" story, but did you know I'm also an author? Well, now you do. My novel is called Thanks, That Was Fun and it is chock full of bad romance. There is also a lot of sex--good sex, bad sex, and no sex--something most single women (and men) can relate to, no?

Just so I'm not blowing my own trumpet (um, no pun intended) here's a description from my esteemed publisher:  "(Thanks, That Was Fun is) a humorous look at modern love and the lengths some people go to in order to get and keep it. The witty dialogue, sharply drawn characters and unconventional ending make it a satisfying read for anyone who is single, heartbroken, in love, or in between."


My novel has also been described as "the perfect summer read," (--E. Gedan), "Compelling, whip-smart, and laugh-out-loud funny," (--Sharyn Parker Ross, author of City Zen) and Angela Weldon says it's "like gossiping with your closest girlfriends over a bottomless glass of wine." 


Thanks, That Was Fun is available for $1.99 on Kindle and not-Kindle.


What are you waiting for? Go read it now! Don't worry, my blog will still be here when you come back.


I promise.





Tuesday, March 13, 2012

QR...it means "Qool Read!" Really, it does.

Coincidentally, I just happen to have two QR codes for my book...

This one is for Kindle (or any Kindle app, of course. You're savvy. You know the deal.)

And this one is for any and every other sort of eReader... i.e. Nook, Kobo, Sony, iPad, LilyPad, even a plain ol' laptop. Yes, you can download and read my book right on your lap-(or desktop) computer doo-hickey! Just download it as a .pdf and you're good to go.



(This one is bigger, but size doesn't matter.)


The other thing about Thanks, That Was Fun is that it's only $1.99. Below is a partial list of things that are more expensive than my book.

  • A gallon of milk. The price of cow's milk in 2012 (according to the internet, who never lies) is $3.50 to $3.99. Of course, organic milk is about $4.00 a gallon, and fancy pants veggie types like me pay an average of $4.19 for just a half-gallon of soy milk.
Chock full o' protein, but it will give you gas. My book won't. And it's cheaper!
  • Two pounds of large strawberries. At Winn-Dixie, anyway.

Cover them with chocolate and the price goes up.
  • One gross (144) of latex balloons.
At this price -- $5.75 -- you could buy two and a half copies of my book.

  • Stapler ..... this one costs $6.99 at--where else?--Staples. But holy crap, six dollars and ninety-nine cents? That's more than three copies of my book!


Yep, $6.99. And it's not even RED!




$$$$$$$$$$

And finally, something that's cheaper than my book.....

  • Hannah Montana kite. Price? $1.90.
Cheaper than my book, but only by nine cents.

$$$$$$$$$$



Face it, you'd rather buy my book.


Wednesday, February 08, 2012

Essentially, it's a break-up song....




This is Ed Robertson of the Barenaked Ladies with a solo acoustic version of "Thanks, That Was Fun," the song that inspired my book's title.*

*Now available on iBooks, by the way!
(and Kindle and every other e-reading device, thanks to Smashwords.)

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

So I've been super busy lately....promoting, marketing, and talking up my book, and I've gotten A LOT of questions in the process. I've decided to start addressing the queries here on the old blog. Below are the first two in what will probably be a lengthy (but entertaining!) series of FAQ&A's.

Here I go.

FAQ's: Thanks, That Was Fun

Q: How did you come up with the title Thanks, That Was Fun?

A: The title of my book comes from a song of the same name by the Barenaked Ladies. It’s a rather obscure track; a B-side of sorts (if you were born after 1990, ask an older person about B-sides. Don’t worry, it’s nothing dirty). It’s available on iTunes and also as a “previously unreleased” track on BNL’s greatest hits album, titled—appropriately—All Their Greatest Hits.

Thanks, That Was Fun (the book) wasn’t always called "Thanks, That Was Fun." The working title was actually Some Fantastic, another BNL song. This was mainly because I started writing my novel in late 1999, and I was obsessed with the Ladies’ seminal 1998 album Stunt.



Stunt was the perfect soundtrack for the book--funny, sad, dark, lovelorn, snarky, boozy—there’s even a song on the album called “Alcohol”—that track alone provided a great deal of inspiration. I listened to Stunt constantly and I was convinced that the title of the book had to come from one of the songs. For a while I called it “Light Up My Room” (track #3), but the more I wrote, the more I thought “Some Fantastic” (track #12) sounded a lot cooler. For those who aren’t familiar, “Some Fantastic” is probably the weirdest song on what is already a weird album. To give you a taste, here are some sample lyrics:

One day I’ll construct a satellite/And I’ll name it after you/Cause you were the greatest friend of all/Except for when you split my lip in two

What the hell did those lyrics have to do with my novel? I have no earthly idea. It was like having an unexplainable crush on someone. I didn’t know why I liked “Some Fantastic,” I just did. And once I settled on it as a title, I was very attached. It was smart and intriguing and catchy; in short, everything I thought a debut novel should be. That title stuck to my novel for years, from 2000 to 2009, to be precise.

My editor Scott was the one who got me to call it "Thanks, That Was Fun." Trust me, I needed a little convincing. I was all but married to Some Fantastic. I mean, Some Fantastic and I had been through a lot together at this point. Did I mention that it took me a long time to write this book? Well it did. It took me a frustratingly long time. Some Fantastic had stayed with me through six moves, five significant relationships, two presidential administrations…we had a history, and that title was a part of me, dammit! But Scott (talented, wise, patient, funny, straight-talking Scott, more about him later) thought that “Some Fantastic” was way too vague and that I needed a title that was more descriptive, one that fit the story. He’d been at me for a while to change it and one day he told me over the phone to do a little brainstorming and come up with some alternate names before our next meeting. Reluctantly, I sat down at my desk and typed up a short list of song titles and some random phrases, then emailed it to Scott. When I met with him a week later, he had printed out the list I’d sent—there were about a dozen names—and he’d put big X’s through all of them but one: “Thanks, That Was Fun.” He presented me with the paper and said “Here’s the new title of your book. It’s funny, it’s descriptive, it’s sarcastic, it’s teasing, and it fits your novel to a T.” Seeing it there in print, I got his point. Scott was right. It worked.

Q: Your name isn’t really Andie Nash. Why did you change your name?

A: Again, it comes back to an album, although my mom was the one to first suggest that I use a pen name. I believe her actual words were “This novel of yours….you’re not publishing this under your real name, are you?” I had in fact been planning to use my real name; I didn’t see anything wrong with it. But my mom begged to differ, citing privacy and a bunch of other parental concerns and issues I hadn’t yet considered. So I told her I’d think about it, and left it at that.

It was around this time that I received an awesome gift from my writer’s group friend Becca: her old record player. I was super excited--not only to have a real excuse to shop for vinyl--but now I had a real turntable on which to spin it! Woo hoo! Never one to do things in half measures, I hit up every thrift store, used record shop and garage sale within a 30 mile radius searching for new (well, old) vinyl and bought up everything I came across. One of my purchases was a Crosby Stills Nash album, the one where they’re all hanging out on a ratty couch on some porch.

You know, this one. I believe it’s actually called Hanging Out on a Ratty Couch on Some Porch.

So I got the album home and put it on the turntable and I was sitting there staring at the cover while it played. I’ll just go ahead and say that this was before I got sober and I was a bit anesthetized, probably on something herbal. And my mind was wandering, and I started thinking about possible pen names. I wanted to keep Andie, because it’s really my first name. Okay, it’s really my nickname, but everyone calls me Andie, and I like it that way. But what to do about a surname? So I studied the CSN album and thought, Andie Crosby? No. Andie Stills? Lame. Andie Nash? Hmmm.

Yes, Andie NASH. Now that was cool. And pretty badass. (And Graham Nash is hands-down my favorite member of CSN. I’ve always loved “Our House.”) Anyway, I made a mental note and filed “Andie Nash” away, just in case I decided to use a nom de plume when my book came out.

Then, Simon Reid happened.

Chances are, if you Googled the name “Andie Nash” and/or “Simon Reid”, one of the links brought you here. So if that’s how you found this blog I’ll go ahead and say that, yes, I’m THAT Andie Nash, the American woman who blew the whistle on her conman ex-boyfriend and blah blah blah, you probably have a little background on the story already. If you’re looking for more, you can read my first Simon Reid tirade here, a 2010 update here, and a post about my March 2011 appearance on the Today Show here (and yes, the last part was a blast. Getting an all-expense paid trip to NYC, appearing on national TV, and hanging out with Jo, Laura, and Nicola made the initial Reid drama worth it in the end.)

So I started thinking about using the name “Nash” just before I went on the Today Show. Since I was going on TV to air my dirty laundry to all and sundry, my mom was worrying—-again (I love my mom)--about privacy and internet searches and all the weirdness that you have to worry about when you’re a parent to a screwball like me. So in the end, that’s what convinced me to take the name Andie Nash, for both public and literary purposes. And there you have it.

Next time...I dish some dirt and answer more FAQs!