Category: canon

purpose

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I don’t know what my purpose is; I know I have to write. I have to challenge – myself, the world, whatever.

Devil’s advocate, without a limit on the number of views he’s willing to explore, and the number he’ll excoriate.

Getting through this, doing the work, the canon.

That’s why I’m here. It’s all I care for. I pray I’ve enough time left to do it; I suspect no such time is forthcoming.

I’ve driven pretty far to realize where I am; I only know this is the thing that screams inside me, and if everyone else could just give it a rest for a moment, that’d be great.

I know what must be done.

Target: 1000 words
Written: 563 words, short story: Broke Down Car

Read: Permanent Record, Edward Snowden
Comics: Chew: Secret Agent Poyo (POYO!) 1, Chew 28-30
Music: No Surprises, Radiohead (one of my all time favourites)

legacy

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I want to leave behind a body of work that people can dig into and enjoy, even if it’s just in the dissection of me as a person.

I’m sure it won’t all be flattering; I’ve behaved terribly at times.

Such is the life of a drunken wannabe punk kid from the small towns of Ontario. You’ll say and do shit to regret later; apologies don’t mean it didn’t happen.

It also doesn’t mean it’s who you ended up.

I don’t know how I’ll end up.

But I’m worried I don’t have the stamina or force of will for the long run.

Please don’t let me end up one of these cozy mystery writers, or some detective or spy novel fuck, churning out the same formulaic CSI bullshit each week.

It’s always the goddamned butler.

I want my legacy to be more complex than that.

More compelling; equally pathetic, mildly horrific, one long cringe punctuated by the occasional, “Okay, he’s growing on me.”

He’s getting better.

Please let me leave it behind.

Target: 1000 words
Written: 326 words, poem: Roses And Violets

Read: Constellation Games, Leonard Richardson
Comics: Chew 9-12
Music: No Joke!, Meat Puppets

the day after

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It’s time now to rest, to refocus and think about the next thing. In the meantime, it’ll be poems and short stories, maybe a comic or four, a new hip ditty and then…

Then.

It may seem relaxing, but I’m desperate to have had something of an impact. I don’t need to be Jesus or Buddha; I’ll take minor pantheon member. But hell, even though I’ve got so many plans, it still feels like my race is run, like the egg timer is about to go off and my goose will be officially cooked.

You know, the usual hair on fire stuff.

So, yeah. Back to work, back to the work. Downtime, with a side of poetry.

Also, selling The Mungk, but hey, every act of creation has its cross to bear.

Target: 1000 words
Written: 81 words, poem: Roses And Violets

Read: Constellation Games, Leonard Richardson
Comics: Chew 5-8
Music: The No Fun, Local H

the mungk

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It started off as a riff on a couple of classics, as so many of my things do: the monster under the bed and it was a dark and stormy night…

I can’t seem to help postulating on other ways to see things; it’s a gift and a curse. The need to play devil’s advocate and constantly ask what other ways a thing can be seen is so ingrained in me, it’s just about impossible to keep from indulgence.

The monster under the bed merged with the concept of little things draining the life and verve you’re born with, and grew to encompass loss, abandonment and trauma.

The Mungk is a meditation on the birth of resignation, of fatalism.

Hopelessness, as seen through the guise of a children’s story.

It’s a exploration of how, as we grow, the world reveals itself to be far less well-meaning and static than we presume as children, where parents are gods, friends are forever and it’s one adventure after the other.

I won’t claim to have been abandoned or abused or any of that good stuff. My parents were pretty good. We had our fights, but nothing like what other poor souls have been through. I was disemboweled by a tree when I was eight; it didn’t make me grow up vowing revenge against improperly cut stumps.

(What a shitty superhero that would have been – the Leveller!)

I was more traumatized by the loss of faith; as I’ve said before, if you want to lose your religion, read the Bible. If you’re not out by Leviticus, there’s something wrong with your basic human decency.

The Mungk is trauma on trauma on trauma.

It’s overwhelming, it’s so much bigger than something we can deal with, in a child’s parable.

I’m sorry to unleash this on the world, but well, it’s the thing I’m most proud of, to this point. It’s good.

I think it’s great.

I could be wrong.

That’s the risk a person takes in creating anything. We build, we create, we connect the dots. We put it out into the world and now, it’s something for the jackals. Their noses twitch, their lips pull back from their teeth.

They pounce.

Anyway, the Mungk is born, for better or worse.

Only time will tell if this post is the beginning of something huge, or just another whisper in a storm.

Target: 1000 words
Written: 1618 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Mindset: The New Psychology Of Success, Carol Dweck
Comics: Chew 1-4
Music: No Exit, Blondie (ha!)

the mungk – playlist

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I like to do a playlist for anything I write. I don’t set it up before I start writing; what happens is that random songs or albums play, and things grow organically from that.

Sometimes, as you’re writing or editing, a song will come on that perfectly matches the tone and feel of what you’re working on, and so, becomes inseparable. Probably half of the songs on this list came that way.

Other times, it’s more intellectual; I need a certain theme or mood, so we search through the piles until I find something that fits. See, all the shadow and nightmare songs.

Sometimes, it’s filler, because a song didn’t fit the theme, so you get “clever” and try and find something to wedge in there (see Helpless Dancer, which I thought spoke a bit to the theme of pointlessness and running us down over a lifetime of traumas, mini-traumas and unfairness.)

Anyway, in the end, I get something that helps me really feel the book, feel the story. I will never hear Skyscraper again without thinking about pulling up to the little country house, nor will I not think of Alice whenever Run comes over my headphones or speakers.

Enjoy. It’ll make more sense when the book comes out.

The House In The Country: Julian Plenti – Skyscraper
The First Appearance Of The Mungk: Alice Cooper – Welcome To My Nightmare
We’ll Get You A Nightlight: The Who – Helpless Dancer
What Does That Mungk Do?: Nirvana – Drain You
Cracks: L7 – Crackpot Baby
The Doctor: Snow Patrol – Run
Goodbye, Alice: Violent Femmes – I Know It’s True, But I’m Sorry To Say
Alice Aftermath: Billy Talent – Living In The Shadows
The Fight: INXS – Never Tear Us Apart
Bumps In The Night: The Rolling Stones – Have You Seen Your Mother, Baby, Standing In The Shadow?
The Power Goes Out: The Tragically Hip – Frozen In My Tracks
The Storm: Bruce Springsteen – My Father’s House
The Aftermath: Beck – Morning

Target: 1000 words
Written: 216 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Mindset (do I have to write it all out?  Be the growth mindset, kids), Dweck, Carol
Comics: The Boys: Dear Becky 7-8
Music: No Distance Left To Run, Blur (huh... timing, right?)

back cover

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I’m think my ugly mug sitting in a bed in a dying cornfield, but where would I find one of those around here? And who would donate their old, creaky bed to such a cause?

The photo is more than the blurb (a crime of a word, as a certain author once opined).

The blurb is the hook; the picture is the brand.

The book is everything.

Target: 1000 words
Written: 48 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Mindset: The New Psychology Of Success, Dwecks
Comics: The Boys: Dear Becky 3-6
Music: No Control, Bad Religion

light work today

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The heavy lifting is over. The next couple of days are back copy, author’s bios and probably finalizing the playlist.

Anyway: I worked hard on this bio, as you can tell.

M.T. Williams lives in Southwestern Ontario, in the midst of the cornfield with his wife, daughter and more animals than is reasonable, thus ensuring he is never alone in the dark.
Target: 1000 words
Written: 36 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Mindset: The New Pyschology Of Success, Carol Dweck
Comics: The Boys 71-72, The Boys: Dear Becky 1-2
Music: No Come Down, The Verve

production manuscript

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What’s a production manuscript?

It’s my attempt to set up for self-publishing, which I’ll do if no one ever thinks The Mungk is good enough (or long enough) to publish themselves.

Which, you know, I get. It’s short, real short. Like twenty thousand word short.

But it’s fucking good.

So, no matter what happens, it’s getting out there. I’ll give it one year to find a publisher, then boom.

Out the fucking door.

Target: 1000 words
Written: 1459 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Mindset: The New Psychology Of Success, Carol Dweck
Comics: The Boys 67-70
Music: No Code, Pearl Jam

submission manuscript

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Here we go. Here’s what’s going out.

Here’s the party, guv.

Here’s… something.

Target: 1000 words
Written: 1576 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Mindset: The New Psychology Of Success, Carol Dweck
Comics: The Boys 63-66
Music: An Unknown Album Of Angry Punks Singing About Black Flag That Shazam Doesn't Recognize, by Who The Fuck Knows?

manuscripted

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All done.

There’s still some afterwork and maintenance to be done, but hell, by this time next week, I’ll be compiling a list of agents/publishers to send this bitch to.

Good night.

Target: 1000 words
Written: 885 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: The Sorrows Of Young Werther, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Comics: The Boys: Butcher, Baker, Candlestick Maker 6, The Boys 60-62
Music: Bootleg Nirvana 90-01-06 Seattle, Nirvana, I guess, probably