Sailing Off to Storyland

I've been packing up my office over the past week or so in preparation of moving to a new house. In the process, I've been coming across snippets of stories written long ago, ones that I came across almost three years when I last moved. I remember being inspired by them then, and that feeling came over me once again. Coming across all of these old fragments of imagination always seem to spark new ideas, as well as a nostalgia for imaginary worlds previously visited.

The Unseen Playmate

The other night, I was reading A Child's Garden of Verses by Robert Louis Stevenson to my daughter before bed and came across the "The Unseen Playmate." The first two stanzas may be the most terrifying thing I've ever read:

"When children are playing alone on the green,
                     In comes the playmate that never was seen.
When children are happy and lonely and good,
                    The Friend of the Children comes out of the wood.

Nobody hear him and nobody saw,
                    His is a picture you never could draw,
But he's sure to be present, abroad or at home,
                    When children are happy and playing along."

It instantly conjured images from Pinterest Dark Imagination board and got me thinking about a story I had been envisioning while creating that board. I'm currently working on something else, but this passage has certainly inspired me to revisit the horror story I had been thinking back a few years ago. Be afraid...be very afraid. 

Hidding Places

I've been interested in things hiding all around, remaining unknown and unseen. It's a concept that has seeped into my work in various ways, but recently has consumed my imagination. 

Last week I talked about character sketches that I'm working on for a story that is just beginning to percolate. As I've been gathering the cast and trying to flesh them out, I realized that I needed to formulate a rough plot to fit them in. I had an inkling, but when trying to figure out the characters, I knew that I needed more. 

Over the last few days, things have started coming together. One idea merging with the next. Slowly the picture is starting to come together and it involves this idea of things hiding all around us. Dark and scary things. Things we tell ourselves that they don't exist. These are the ingredients that are cooking up this story....stay tuned.

High Flying Birds

So next week I take off for my West Coast trip. The Missus and I will be driving up from L.A. to the great north regions. I'm so looking forward to a road trip and seeing new places and old friends. There's nothing quite like a car adventure to get the creative tank refilled. 

The Pacific Coast seems especially potent to my imagination for some reason. After all, Life is But a Dream is set around L.A., inspired by my last trip out there. The Heights is set in San Fran, drawing heavily from my visit there in 2001. Dirty Liar is set in an unnamed place near Portland...but was based on my drives through Washington state a few years before writing it. We'll see what emerges this time around.

While I'm out there, I will be making a few book appearances. So if you around, definitely stop by. I'll also be making a NYC appearance when I get back. The details are listed below.

On April 18th I'll be reading & signing @ Miss Nelson's Toy & Book Shop

1030 Bonita Ave.

LaVerne, CA 91750

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On April 21st I'll signing books at the L.A. Times Festival of Books

1pm @ Once Upon A Time Bookstore's booth #774

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On May 1st I'll be making an in-store event @ Third Place Books

17171 Bothell Way NE

Lake Forest Park, WA  98155

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On May 19th I'll be back in NYC to sign books @ Books of Wonder from 12pm-2pm

18 West 18th Street
New York, NY 10011 

Story Hunting in Spring

This week I finished a manuscript that I've essentially been working on since November. It was something that I needed to get out of my system and now that it's out, I'm setting forth to write a book that in many ways is a story I've always wanted to tell but never knew the starting place until recently.

I found the beginning within a setting that came from three very different inspirations. Over the past year or so, I've been writing about the places under the bed or in the back of the closet, places of nightmares both great and small. The other day in those murky realms, I uncovered perhaps the best story of them all. Combined with parts of old story I've never been able tell, the idea came to me nearly fully-formed the other day.

The hunt has successfully yielded a target.

Story Hunting

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

-Lewis Carroll

Hunting stories is a dangerous business that I don't recommend anyone undertake lightly. To find and capture your story is not enough. You have to make sure you get it home alive. Treating it like prey will only make it fight back. Before you know it, you've speared it dead and then it's time to start all over again.

Treating the beast like a pet typically works better. If nothing else, at least it will keep you comfort while the cast of characters gets their act together and the scenery decides to fill in the empty patches. If you care for it long enough, it'll will grow into something worth keeping.