A.J. Aalto Supervillain on a Leash

I Think I’ll Flirt With Fate (What Could Go Wrong?)

October 11

Now, I’m not saying that shitty things happen just because I step on the bathroom scale, but yes, yes I am, that’s exactly what I’m saying. DON’T DO THAT. In fact, huck that demon-infested number-fibber out the bloody window before someone else gets hurt.

Yesterday, I stepped on the bathroom scale after eating in Paris for a week (what the hell was I thinking?)… and thereby unleashed a shitstorm of events that competed for the Gold Medal in Suckosity–which, if it is not already a word, really should be. Not only had I gained ten pounds (ten! TEN!) but I had three rapid-fire cancellations in increasing magnitudes of suckness.

First, my beta reader cancelled an appointment  Not a huge deal, I see her often, I didn’t really think much of it. However…

Secondly, I got a call from the government. Didn’t really want to answer that one, frankly. How could it be a good thing? “Hi, AJ, this is the Prime Minister. Just wanted to check in and see how things are going with you?” But no, it was the sheriff’s office calling to tell me the jury selection panel had been cancelled. Boo! I might be the only person she called who exclaimed “awww, really? Damn it!” I really did want to be on a jury. Someday. But again, not a huge deal. Slightly worse than my first cancellation.

But then my winery appearance got cancelled not a minute later. Now that truly sucked. And I started to wonder … what the hell, Universe? What minor league god did I cheese-off? And is Cancel Fest 2012 done, now? Or is my ass going to get cancelled next?

Hmm. Judging by the number on that bathroom scale, maybe cancelling my ass sin’t such a bad idea. Heh.

(Editor’s note: Next up, an interview with the inimitable genius that is Rafe Brox, the man I’ve entrusted with the editing of Death Rejoices. I use the term “genius” because, whereas I have a sweet tooth, he has a meat tooth, and I’m afraid he might try to eat my face.)

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Self-Promotion For Introverted Canadian Writerghoulies

October 9

Manager: AJ, you don’t do enough self-promotion.

Me: I flashed the room service guy in Paris. But it was kind of an accident. Mostly.

Manager: Let me rephrase–

Me: Okay, it was on purpose. But, y’know, dude in my bedroom. Hullo? Can’t hold me responsible for that.

Manager: AJ–

Me: I suppose I did call him. Does that make him a prostitute?

Manager: AJ–

Me: I didn’t have sex with him!

Manager: AJ!!! You don’t do enough BOOK promotion.

Me: Oh. You’re not mad about my flashing the not-exactly-prostitute-room-service guy?

Manager: *head/desk*

Me: So, you mean…Like, making myself sound cool and writer-y and stuff? Jeeeeeez.

Manager: Let me rephrase. Again. AJ? Do some self-promotion.

Me: *upper lip curl*

Manager: Come on. It can be “you-style.”

Me: Oh? Well, challenge accepted, madam! *cracks brain-knuckles*

<side note: when attempting to be awesome, backdrop matters>

“Gosh, I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid I’m about to be a tad awesome in a minute or so. Won’t last long, I promise; just a wee *shine!* for a bit. Do you suppose you could–if it doesn’t put you out, you know–back up a few feet so I don’t bump you with how awesome I am? Wouldn’t wanna–heh heh–step on your toes or anything. *big smile* Wow, thanks, that’s great. Another meter or so? Sorry! I shouldn’t assume you know metric, eh? Selfish of me. Uh, three feet and a bit? There. Great. Thanks so, so much. Okay, here it comes, ready? Might wanna shield your eyes. My awesome tends to give people a headache. Your awesome is obviously even brighter, so you know all about that, don’t you? Yeah. I thought so. We should talk about you! Let’s talk about you.”

Now that my self-promo work is done, I’ve got several pieces of news to share.

1. I will have many guest posts coming up. The reason for this is two-fold: it has come to my attention that I am surrounded by cool people (don’t know how that happened, I almost never leave my house), and I am swamped with edits and rewrites on my second book, Death Rejoices.

2. Touched, the first book in The Marnie Baranuik Files, has been relaunched by my awesome publisher, Booktrope, and is now available here for Kindle and here for Nook. New cover! All the smut and none of the typos. Hooray!

3. My appearance at Stonechurch Vineyards in Niagara-On-The-Lake, Ontario is coming up fast! Come see me on Sunday October 28, from 2-4pm, have some wine and nibblies; I will be talking about genre blending and the new pulp fiction, and doing a reading from Touched (which will make me blush, as I cannot find a single clean passage to read. Flaming fuckgoblins, am I ever filthy!). Tickets are $7 and available at the door. If you’re interested, I’ll have copies for purchase and I will be happy to personalize & sign.

Now, some pictures from ~WRITERGHOULIE INVADES PARIS~ <cue disaster music>.

<My husband wanted to know if we were going to see anything not related to death…>

<So I took him here. And he forgot about his wife’s obsession with the morbid.>

<Then we went to my future house. Or, as the locals call it, The Louvre>

<Everything was almost surreal in its beauty. Paris is one of a kind.>

<Wrapped up at the Moulin Rouge and strolling in Montmartre.> 

Tune in next time for ~WRITERGHOULIE STORMS LONDON~ and pictures thereof.

(Editor’s note: For no conceivable reason whatsoever, AJ Aalto has begun dressing like a secret agent, randomly posing with finger-guns, and humming the Mission Impossible theme song under her breath in the grocery store. Also, that one from Dragnet. She might buy spy equipment next. It’s hard to say. She might already own some. She might be recording conversations. She might be talking in the third person right this second … the freak.)

Gateway Drugs and the Writerghoulie

September 20

As some of you may know, I am currently on the Writerghoulie Diet. It’s part-Paleo, part-Dukan, part-Iwillshankyouforthatdonutbitch. Okay, I’m not a nice lady when I’m crashing from a carb binge. I can feel my mood sinking as my blood sugar dips. I’m a danger to society a half-hour after a piece of pizza. This is one of the reasons I went mostly Paleo/Dukan to begin with. When I eat proteins, I’m almost pleasant (I said “almost”, let’s be realistic, here.). I don’t attempt to incinerate people with my glare. I hardly mutter under my breath, and when I do, it’s mostly about stuff I’m doing, not threats to cause bodily harm to others. In short: this planet needs me to eat proteins, and to eat frequently. And I try to do so. You are welcome.

This is why, when my trainer/editor/mentor (now that I’ve thrown that title out there, there’s no way I’m giving him the satisfaction of mentioning him by name. Because fuck that guy. Oooooh, see? CARB RAGE!) introduced me to P28 high protein bagels & breads, I was soooooo thrilled. Wait, bread you can eat on a high protein diet? Yes, it contains carbs, but so does my oat bran for 2nd breakfast at 7 AM, and my protein bar at 1st breakfast at 4 AM. It’s not like I was ever completely carb-free; that would be unhealthy, one would think.

So, I bought some P28 goodies–bread and bagels, both–expecting them to taste like feet or ass or some other unpleasantness (my apologies to those of my readers who enjoy the taste of toe jam or rectal sphincter. Wait, no! No apologies!  Ew, ick!). They were expensive, but no more expensive than buying bagels one-at-a-time from Tim Horton’s or Starbucks, and I’ve done that a million times. Might as well pay for the thing my body wants, the thing that makes me less nutty (yes, that’s possible, and YOU shut up), the thing that keeps my weight in check.

Taste: HOORAY! Phenomenal. Love them. So happy. Taste as French Toast: YESSS!! This works! A bread I can eat guilt-free that doesn’t make me crash and snarl and bloat and fall asleep mid-afternoon.

However….

*Writerghoulie curled on couch trembling, face covered in red, weepy, grouchy, toast-crumbed*

Viking: Oh, I’m so afraid to ask, but that is JAM on your face, right?

Me: Maybe a little.

Viking: You look like you gutted the Kool-Aid Man. With your teeth.

Me: That doesn’t even make sense! Why would there be JAM inside the KOOL-AID MAN?

Viking: Why so angry, Crazy Wife?

Me: I’m not! I’m not! I’m FINE! EVERYTHING’S FINE!

Viking (backing away, pointing): I know that voice. That’s the Carb Crash voice. You ate TOAST!

Me: DID NOT!

Viking: What happened? I thought you had your heaven-sent protein bread.

Me: I ate it.

Viking: ALL of it?

Me: It tastes good, and since when am I one of those, you know, those people who don’t…do stuff they want?

Viking: You can’t even get out a complete thought.

Me: YOU NEVER COULD!

Viking: Settle down there, Hulk. What happened after you ate the loaf of P28?

Me: I might have chomped all the bagels.

Viking: And then…?

Me: That stuff is sneakyass shit! It lead to English Muffin shenanigans and a Wonder Bread bender.

Viking: Let me see if I understand, and I’m just going to say this from the front porch, through the window at you, for no reason at all. Okay?

Me: *snarl*

Viking (taking up his new position): You’re blaming the makers of P28 bagels for this backslide off your diet?

Me: They made me think positive thoughts about bread.

Viking: Mmhmm. P28 is a gateway drug. Is that the story you’re going with?

I thought about it. It would have been far more satisfying for me to jump all over that explanation, ridding myself of the guilt. But my husband was smirking, and that usually means he knows I’m gonna try to sidestep out of something, and he was fully prepared not to buy a word of it. I shook my head slowly, sulked, glared a bit until I felt better, and resolved to work harder at resisting temptation.  When later I had a magnificent post-carb headache, I didn’t curse the innocent high-protein breads … I blamed that little voice in my head that had promised me all breads were equal, and if I could eat this one I could eat that one, and no one would be the wiser.

The lesson here is simple, and is one my mother has been trying to drill into my hedonist head my whole life; everything in moderation. This flies in the face of my own “the purpose of life is pleasure” philosophy, and my personal motto: “GIMME THAT!” But I think I’m capable of learning this moderation stuff …

Hey! Whaddya mean, “ha”?? Buncha wise guys…

(editor’s note: AJ Aalto is absolutely, positively NOT capable of moderating her behaviour in any way, shape, or form. You are correct. Perhaps unwise in pointing it out, but correct nonetheless. It was nice knowing you. Sleep with one eye open.)

Taking It To The Grave 6: Enter the Ginger

July 31

Hi folks! We’ve got some exciting things happening here, which I should mention before I get down to today’s interview. Touched is being relaunched soon by my nifty new publisher, the fun and amazingly talented Booktrope gang. Details, dates, etc will be trumpeted as soon as I have them of course. And October 28th I will be appearing at Stonechurch Vineyards for a talk in their new Wine & Writers series. Again, as details filter in, I will post them here.

For the interim of the following blog post, I, AJ Aalto, aka Writerghoulie, aka The Black Orchid, aka Trick-ass Fetish Burglar (wait, nobody calls me that…but they should) will be known as “Jane Pocket.” Allow me to explain.

Today I interview my dear friend, Jason D Ready, aka Jason Jones, aka Schnappsy (embarrassing cottage nickname, don’t worry, I’ll make him explain) aka Johnny Coattails. That last nickname came about when he was crowing on and on about how he was gonna “ride my coattails to fame and glory.” HA! I fooled that mofo by having neither. Who’s laughing now?

In the midst of our discussion, I said that perhaps I’d ride his coattails to fame. He said I’d get lost on a coattail and was small enough to fit in a pocket. Jane Pocket was born, the perfect counterpart to Johnny Coattails.

Now that we have that settled, on with the grilling.

Jane Pocket:  This is a bit of a different interview, because normally I interview writers after they’ve finished their novel. I’m catching you before you’re done, and it’ll be interesting, I think, to look back on this interview in time as a sort of prognosticating attempt. You and I are in the early stages of collaboration, and you’ve started your own projects as well. Tell me a bit about your solo writing, what phase you’re at.

Johnny Coattails: Well, clearly, if published authors are interviewing me before I put out a single scrap of writing, I’m approaching the end game.

 I’m writing fragments and scraps of many things, sometimes dependent on the whim of my collaborator. Short stories, long form serials, and stand-alone novels…all fall at the whim of Jane Pocket! I’m in process of writing a dark sci-fi/horror book, sort of a “slasher-in-space” story that changes half way through, and gets real metaphysical. I figure I should get the deep stuff out of the way before getting ready to work with you.

Jane Pocket: Very good idea. Wait–what?! I think there’s an insult in there somewhere…or possibly three; for someone who professes to be snagged in the fluctuating purls of my whims, you’re awfully ballsy. Are you an outliner, or a “pantser”?

Johnny Coattails: I think my fingers want me to be a pantser — wow, THAT’S a phrase I’m never typing again — but I realize the dangers of not outlining. If I want to write a series of books about the same characters, and I don’t want to sound like I’m making shit up in book four, I have to plot out the steps early. Although, that would be an interesting way to write a series: Just randomly throw shit in, and work out the significance later. “He woke up to a talking purple duck on his bed.” And then 6 books later, decide “Oh yeah! His family was torn apart in the woods by purple talking ducks!”

Million dollar idea, right there.

Jane Pocket: It’s so not. You’re a family man with a full-time job , a wife, and two kids. When do you find time to write?

Johnny Coattails: I don’t, clearly, or you’d stop bugging me about it.

 

<I almost never threaten. I buy gifts. It’s called “encouragement”, asshole>

Johnny Coattails: Actually, I’ve found the morning and evening commute on the train a nice time to write. I take my iPad with me, and tap out whatever fevered musings are in my head. Of course, I have to shield my screen from anyone sitting next to me. Either for fear of them judging me, or stealing my ideas, I haven’t decided yet.

Jane Pocket: As you begin to dip your toe into the world of novel writing, what aspect are you finding most challenging?

Johnny Coattails: <sigh> Research. I almost want to try writing either pure fantasy or pure sci-fi, just to avoid having to look up how things actually work. Actually, I’m tempted to just powertrain through all the seasons of Mythbusters and call it a day. That’s like research, right?

<This is research, too! In case I ever set a book in Paris…so I should go, right?>

Johnny Coattails: The alternative that looks the most attractive is basically to have a book fact-checked almost entirely on Wikipedia, and find out how entertaining that is…

Jane Pocket: *braces for the Mrs. Coattails rebuttal to that last* Have you discovered any personal writing quirks as of yet? For instance, some writers need music, others silence, some need pen & paper, others must type, some have *cough* little plastic good luck zombies on their desk …

Johnny Coattails: One might say I need to fear the crack of a very tiny and neurotic whip from a zombie-lovin’ writer, but one would not want to get killed in one’s sleep.

Jane Pocket: One might wanna cover up his thinly-veiled snipes or one might get clobbered with one’s own…something perfectly scary and intimidating. A body part would be logical. Got nothin’, what were you saying?

Johnny Coattails: I do need to type – I type almost faster than I can think, which is why I spend so much time planning out story without writing. Because when I do write, I need it to come out like greased lightning. But no quirks yet. I leave the quirks to you. So many quirks…

Jane Pocket: *glare* What genre do your current project(s) fall into, and are these the genres you prefer to read?

Johnny Coattails: I have ideas in about 4 or 5 genres, but they all tend to be dark. Horror, horror/sci-fi, dark urban fantasy, black comedy. I think horror is the kind of thing that could be brought to any story. Every great movie has some element of horror, even if you don’t admit it. My daughter once pointed out to me that almost every Disney villain has one scene of just terrifying menace. And that’s why we root for the good guy. Because the alternative would be horrific.

It’s funny that the book I’m writing now started as a science-fiction as a way for me to voice my thoughts on technology and spirituality, and how one sort of forces us to abandon the other…and then realized that I could tell that story better with grisly murders. It’s probably telling that the character most like me in the book is the killer. I read dark-themed books as well. Stephen King and his twisted world…he’s written books in every genre as well, and every one can qualify as ‘horror’, if not ‘horror adjacent’.

 Jane Pocket:  What’s up with this collaboration thingy that you’re doing with that weird Writerghoulie, AJ Aalto? *cheesy grin*

Johnny Coattails:  Well, shameless self-promotion machine, that is true about us collaborating. I think, if you’ll allow me this bit of ego, that no one has quite the same level of bent in their sensibilities as you and I do. At least a mental professional diagnosed yours. There’s no excuse for my damage yet.

Jane Pocket: Our collaborative series is best described, I think, as “semi-satirical noir/horror elf punk”, though you’ve coined the term “Pixie Grind” to describe it. How did the subgenre “Pixie Grind” come into being and where did it get its name?

Johnny Coattails: Oh Crom, I can’t believe you want that story out in the public.

Jane Pocket: I want all my horribleness out in the public, dude. What are you, new?

Johnny Coattails: Okay, well, we were talking about story ideas, and thought a world of magic would be amazing. But then we decided the world was Steampunk, and that the magical creatures would be subjugated by humanity, because that’s what we do best. We have a similar dark opinion of human nature. One of us decided that rather than cocaine or meth or other drugs like that, in our world, humans would get high off pixie wings. And you mentioned that the hardcore drug users would snort or inject crushed pixie bones. And then, really rolling on our sickness, I mentioned that I could clearly see a dejected and overweight man, covered in his own filth, slowly feeding screaming pixies into an old fashioned meat grinder, while twitchy junkies waited in line, sniffing and scratching their arms.

And voila, Pixie Grind was born.

Jane Pocket: As we head into the wild world of Steampunk for research, what are your first impressions? Have you done any cosplay in the past? LARPing? Were you a D&D boy growing up?

Johnny Coattails: Oh, I was so a D&D boy. And any other kind of roleplaying game. (Head out of the gutter, Aalto). I was a superhero, a ninja, a superspy, and anything else. Major nerd. And although I haven’t cosplayed or LARPed at this point, I gaze sadly at forums on sites about them, and say “Why not me?!”

I could completely get into dressing Steampunk. Or decorating my house that way. In fact, my man cave is in the Steampunk planning stages. And I realize that at this stage in my life, I’ve surrounded myself with people with a similar sentimentality. I find Steampunk fascinating…I’ve always liked the allure of the “What If?” story, and adding it to the Victorian combination of their raging sense of adventure but saddled with that stuffy uptight attitude is just spectacular. I’m very much looking forward to putting my…sorry, OUR…mark on the genre, and seeing if we can’t spice things up a bit.

Jane Pocket: You play bass guitar and have been in a band, tell me a bit about that. Were you involved in the songwriting process?

Johnny Coattails: I was. Although mostly we just did metal covers of light 80’s pop hits, we had a couple of original songs. “Three Fingers Deep” was a love song about bowling. “Babies Eat Babies” was pretty self explanatory. And rhyming “Matron of Honour” with “Ate Jeffrey Dahmer” is one of my proudest moments as a songwriter.

Jane Pocket: You have a background in drama and theater. When you write, do you find the action plays out in your head like a movie?

Johnny Coattails: Oh, definitely. Hell, sometimes I even cast it before I write. I mean, sure, I mostly put in real people I know, but don’t think there’s no celebs already on my shortlist to play my characters. Denzel man, stop ducking me!

I know that books are a different medium though, and you can be in their heads so much more. But the action beats – they almost have to be cinematic.

Jane Pocket: Do you find your TV and movie interests differ from your reading interests, or do they run in the same lines? Admit it: you secretly read old-timey bodice-rippers when nobody’s home.

Johnny Coattails:  Is that code for porn? Because I haven’t read porn in years. You ruined me, Internet!! I watch a lot of smart geek stuff. I like shows that force you to think, rather than consume. Lost, Pushing Daisies, Firefly, Eureka. Geek stuff that doesn’t spoon feed you, and lets you feel entertained and smart.

Jane Pocket: Is there a particular genre that you think would be very difficult to write, and if so, why?

Johnny Coattails: Love stories. Period pieces about the prairies. Anything where people can only talk to each other by turning away towards a window. That stuff just puts me to sleep, and I can’t imagine not interrupting one with a pitched ninja battle. I think that might have saved Sense and Sensibility.

Jane Pocket: Collaboration. There are several ways of writing a novel or series with another writer. Can you give the readers a peek into our process and how we’re attempting to work things out?

Johnny Coattails: Well, I know we’re still at the beginning stages, but at this point, one of us writes a chapter, and the other one overwrites it, laying their own style on the thing. This is after much discussion by committee though, so we know where everything is headed.

Jane Pocket: Where do you see yourself in five years?

Johnny Coattails: I’m sorry, AJ, but time travel is impossible.

Jane Pocket: *long-suffering sigh*

Johnny Coattails: But hopefully, at a book signing with you, having people try to figure out who actually wrote the most disturbing parts of our book.

Jane Pocket: Last one! Tell me how you got the name “Schnappsy”…? Clearly, it’s something emasculating and therefore amusing to me.

Johnny Coattails: What’s emasculating about getting drunk on Peach Schnapps? You can’t tell me the Germans don’t know their booze…

(editor’s note: AJ Aalto and Stonechurch Vineyards is a natural pairing. AJ is a wino–no wait! What I meant was, AJ loves supporting local businesses and artists, that’s it, and the Stonechurch ’07 Riesling-Gewurztraminer blend IS ART. Art for your mouth. Don’t take my word for it, Niagara, go try it.)

(author’s note: AJ + Johnny Coattails + Fireball Whiskey just might = best book ever. Or worst book ever. This remains to be seen….)

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