J.C. Geiger

I've started watching one TED talk every day while Tobias naps and I eat my lunch. It's been better than listening to the BBC News Hour, which is saying something. This weekend I got proactive and copied a list of the top 100 talks from a website to avoid mediocre TED talks (yes, they exist) and this one by Elizabeth Gilbert is the first one I watched from the list. I'm still too in awe to say much about it, but had to share . . .

This piece was performed on Friday, February 3rd at No Shame Eugene Theatre. Trust me -- it needed to be said.

What the hell have I been doing since my last post in the bygone days of early October? Planning THIS:

A No Shame Holiday Extravaganza. Twisted carols. Ghosts of No Shame Past, Present, and Future. It's been a blast, but a good reminder why it's wise to keep No Shame simple 10 out of 12 shows a year. Also a reminder that Photoshopping something like a stupid Santa hat onto a shark will take me somewhere in the neighborhood of 3 hours and still end up obscuring one of the letters in our logo. Just the same --  if you happen to be anywhere near Eugene, OR, or in the Pacific Northwest, or America, on the fateful night of December 2nd, you should probably suck it up, arrange the necessary transportation, and come to this show.

What else? Writing (nearly done with WEAVERS, draft XXIII), playing dance party with Tobias in the kitchen, throwing together a maddening number of grants, blogging for Boys Don't Read, and banging out six or seven unsalvageable and completely disposable blog posts very much like this one.

Except this post isn't completely useless, because it is a thinly-veiled advertisement for a highly-worthwhile holiday show. Plus, I spent three hours Photoshopping and am going to use any excuse I can to show everyone how skilled I am at graphic design and shark-based millinery.

As a pre-emptive excuse for why I won't be posting on this blog for the next howeverlong -- I may apply for the Stegner Fellowship, application due December 1st. I have taken to affectionately referring to it as "The Stegner Fizzleship" in our household. My wife is daring me to address it as "The Fizzleship" throughout my application materials, which would otherwise be completely serious:

"It will make you stand out," she says. "Seriously, do it."

I would make use of this prestigious Fizzleship to further my writing career in the following ways. It would truly be an honor to receive this sacred Fizzleship.

I'm considering it.

This Sunday, I have the rare privilege of moderating a panel at Wordstock on behalf of Boys Don't Read. It's called "Stalking the Elusive Guy Reader," and will include Jonathan Auxier, Chelsea Cain, and Peter Mountford, all of whom are excellent at what they do. And do you see that big red chair to the right?

They've promised me I get to sit in that thing during the panel. They may have been lying.

In any event, the panel is happening this Sunday, October 9th from 11 - noon on the Oregon Cultural Trust Stage and should be a great opportunity to discuss one of Boys Don't Read's pet issues: whether or not males read as much as females, and what -- if anything -- should be done about it.  If you're going to be in town, you should come check it out. Actually, if you have any interest in writing or reading, you should come out for the ENTIRE WEEKEND. Wordstock is easily one of the best and most ridiculously affordable writing conference I've ever been to. Which saves you money for beer after the sessions. And there is plenty of beer around. That's how they get the writers to come.

Drop me a line or leave a comment if you plan to attend -- hope to see you there!

I returned from a whirlwind of a writing conference in Los Angeles to help launch the Boys Don't Read blog, and came home to find the latest issue of Murky Depths in a stack of otherwise uninspiring mail. This is probably the first good story I ever wrote, and it took me 10 years of revision and submission to get it published. So, three important lessons here. One: Persistence pays off. Two: Publication takes forever. Three: Don't ever, ever write for the money.

Big thanks to illustrator Anko for a few killer drawings to accompany the piece, and to the folks at Murky Depths for putting out a magazine that combines speculative fiction with comic books. As those are the two coolest things on the planet. I highly recommend supporting a magazine that supports these media (and me) by buying your issue HERE -- it's more than worth it.

There is a severe coolness discrepancy in this photo. Good thing he has a good sense of humor.

Yeah, this happened. But if you can't be a fanboy for the Fonz . . . .

I am now in Los Angeles for SCBWI Conference and the weather is awesome. I think I'm going to sleep on the balcony. And that is all.

Our logo. If you can't read it, you must be a boy.

I am proud to announce August 1st as the official launch date of a new blog: "Boys Don't Read."

We have a masthead. We have T-shirts. Now, we even have a blog post.

The premise is simple -- young adult writers blogging about books, writing, guys, and where the three intersect.

Steve Brezenoff, Bryan Bliss, and I connected during the 2011 SCBWI Conference in New York City, and had enough pizza, beer, and conversation to convince ourselves starting a blog together would be a good idea. Being in the 10% minority of male, young-adult book writers (NOTE: This fact is made up), we thought starting a blog about guys and where they fit in the scheme of young adult literature was appropriate.

As a kid, I'd been one of many who, around 7th grade, made the abrupt upshift between R.L. Stine and Christopher Pike to Stephen King and Clive Barker due to the lack of authors writing 1) competently AND 2) about issues I was actually experiencing as a young adult male. It's gotten better -- but we've got a long way to go.

So here's the blog. This week's theme: "Stuff YA People Like."

I'm honored to have written the first post, up today, and titled: "When a Picture is Worth 1,000 Fewer Male Readers."

Here's an excerpt:

It’s a book cover you’ve all seen. The perfect teenage girl: sparkling eyes, lush, full lips – possibly pressed to the stubbled check of a brooding hunk, but more likely parted in a breathy, heartfelt “Well, hello there. Thanks for reading.”

Does she have your attention?

This girl is attractive. Sexy, even. She has a look best described as “come hither.” Men want her. Women want to BE her. But here’s the thing: A book cover may be the ONLY place a girl this beautiful will fail to attract male attention.

Why?

Here's where you can find the rest: WWW.BOYSDONTREAD.COM

Keep checking back. Bryan and Steve will post this week, and we have something very special planned for the upcoming SCBWI Conference in Los Angeles. Stay tuned.

Dale Light and his photogenic pet gorilla.

Great news today -- No Shame Eugene, the theater group I help run, was featured in the Eugene Weekly! The piece is well-written, and fully captures all the wonderful nuances of the No Shame experience.

The story can be found here: http://eugeneweekly.com/2011/07/28/theater.html

The group's Facebook page is here: http://www.facebook.com/noshameeugene

I don't think I've ever been more proud to be part of an organization. No Shame Eugene has truly become a place where everyone is welcome, people aren't afraid to take chances, and insightful, original work is produced on a monthly basis. And always in five-minute increments. Congrats to all who have made it possible and long live the shark!

Again, I am marooned in an internet cafe.

Last night, I recorded a video blog post in a basement at 1:30 AM and looked like a disembodied head alla Deter from an experimental film he made during Sprockets ("He Loves My Caribou" for those who know old school SNL, and are awesome.) So I'm not posting the video. But here's the gist:

I have to scrap Weavers again. Yeah. Not much fun to bury another 70,000 words in the mass grave I already dug for the 200,000 word first draft I wrote, and the 98,000 word draft I revised it down to. But here's the problem: I've lost the theme of the book. In the first draft, the book was about the character Sebastian. In the process of finding his voice, and growing with him through the awkwardness of high school, my plot got overly tangled in a dream underworld and wrote checks it couldn't cash. So my next draft was more focused on the dreaming underworld, but in doing so became a series of plot points and action sequences in which characters became an afterthought. After meticulously outlining the first act of this blockbuster-to-be, I realized that I didn't know where to go with the second act because I didn't actually CARE where the rest of the book went. Somewhere in the shuffle, the thematic core got lost under all the frosting. I don't even know what the hell it looks like anymore.

So last night I went for a walk. I talked to my wife, then she went to bed and I walked by myself. I rolled the theme of the book over and over in my head and tried to get back to the passion I had when I wrote the story in the first place, and this is what I came up with:

I"m passionate about writing a story about growing up. A story about what it's like to be an artist and a dreamer and to be there with others, then have others fall away from you as they grow up and get older and stop talking and stop feeling and stop dreaming. There may not be any explosions or evil twins or Syd Field worthy plot-twists, but I can't let the plot get ahead of the theme, and that's what I've been guilty of in my last few drafts. So here we go again. Once more with feeling. Or so I hope.

Writing. Damn you.