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The short film I shot with RmediA pre-quarantine, then we edited mid-quarantine and finally finished post-quarantine is now part of the upcoming Bridgeport Film Festival this year. The movie will be playing as part of the "Dark Soul Night of the Soul" block on Friday, July 23rd, 8:15pm at The Klein Memorial Auditorium. So if you're looking to catch some, what I can only assume to be, horror and scary short films then come check us out. Any cast and crew members out there, come on down and join us! Tickets are reasonably priced. We'd love to see you and catch up! Links: To Buy Tickets Bridgeport Film Festival Noppera-Bō Page Reminder "Dark Night of the Soul" Block 8:15pm - Friday, July 23, 2021 The Klein Memorial Auditorium

I've got a new short story out. One that I wrote during the pandemic based on an old script I wrote many, many, many years ago. Hence, it being in the YA realm. Check it out on Kindle Vella. The first three chapters are free then there's a fee for the rest. Hey, I don't make the rules. I just try to make money by playing by them. If you're interested, check it out! The Jar Duncan Carver has recently moved to the mysterious town of Brookville in search of adventure and it nearly kills him as a mythological titan has come to town in search of the true Pandora's Box. With the help of skeptic and journalist, Amanda Copeland, Duncan must save Brookville. But at what cost?

I joked with a friend of mine about how I should've done horror all along as the response to Noppera-bō has been pretty cool. Renato, Alicia and myself are very excited about the official selections and awards that our little horror short has been collecting and we're going to do it again. We have actively started pre-production on a new project called Ricky. I wouldn't categorize this script as a horror film, but I will say it's going to have some thriller/horror elements. We're going for something a bit different this time around and we're equally excited about getting to work on it. Here's the information below. If you think you might be good for a part, I'll definitely accept audition videos. You don't have to get fancy, a simple iPhone/Android video works for me. (See the sides below) And don't let the character descriptions fool you, while some may seem simplistic and one note, I assure you, they are not. There are some things I'm not telling you. If you're looking to help out in any way, shoot me an email. We're eyeing a production date sometime in late September/October - but don't hold me to that. We definitely want to avoid the holidays. We're also actively looking for help with our locations, so if you're interested in donating some space inside or outside your home, let me know. I know it's a huge favor, but I promise, we're pretty cool. :) Sides Ricky and Beth Richard and Liz Synopsis Ricky has a crush on his co-worker, Beth, ever since she first started working at their house cleanup job. After making sure he got an invite to his coworkers’ monthly get-together, he takes a chance and asks her out. The next day, while working a job, he awaits Beth’s answer. Characters: Ricky (24): Shy. Sheepish. Socially awkward when it comes to the opposite sex. He has a certain way of seeing the world and is somewhat stubborn when he’s greeted with information that contradicts what he wants or believes to be true. Beth (25): Working a job she doesn’t necessarily like, It's a job, not a career. Constantly deals with men, on the job, seeking dates. It’s annoying, but she muddles through in hopes to make enough money to move on. She has her own set of friends, separate from her work friends. Strong. Capable. Tries to avoid confrontation, but not afraid of it. Richard (74): Has lived a full life. Suffering from the early stages of dementia. Loves his wife, Liz, deeply. Wants her to help him end his life, because he can’t bear to be a burden on her as his dementia gets worse. Liz (73): Loving wife. Dutiful. Taking care of her husband because she believes in the bonds of marriage. Can’t stand the thought of losing her husband and is determined to take care of him until the end. Caring. Concerned. Interior Locations: Restaurant Seating Area - Large Table. Home Setting (Same Location - Dressed differently) Living Room 1 (Possible Kitchen) - Clean - Inviting Living Room 2 (Possible Kitchen) - Hoarder House - Full of Junk Front Door Entrance (Could be same as Home Location) Exterior Locations: (Can be same location) Driveway Front Door Entrance

Hey now! Noppera-bō is an official selection to the 2021 Gen-Con Festival. Congrats to everyone involved. Hopefully, there's more to come! What's Noppera-bō? Well, check out the page.

When I independently published Adam Parker and the Radioactive Scout, I had a 15-25% opinion of that decision as I was giving up on finding an established publisher. I sent out many queries for the first Adam Parker novel and received no interest. But I spent months, possibly years on that book and I hated leaving my fate in the hands of people subjectively deciding to say yes or no. So, I independently published the book. But even that grandiose, ego-inflating decision was sowed in seeds of doubt. The second book in the Adam Parker Mystery series, Adam Parker and the High School Bully, had a similar path as its predecessor. I queried more people...a lot more, and still nothing. But the decision to independently publish felt right because I already did it with the first book. I felt an ownership of Adam and friends. They were my creation and I'm going to take care of them. But, that doubt persisted. Maybe around 10% now. And here we are with Paradoxed. My latest entry in the independently publishing world. This time we've got a novella that was once part of a large anthology book. I queried. Sent out. Received some not-so-much canned replies. That was encouraging. But again, no bites. Again, my decision to independently publish came to me and this time, the doubt is probably at 2%. (Let's be honest, the doubt never leaves) This long blog is to announce a new story out from me! It's available on Kindle and in paperback. It's a tight 97 pages and I hope you like it. Here's a description and a link to where you can purchase it, if interested. Tell your friends! Dusty and Phil decide to give their best friend, Mason the birthday celebration of a lifetime by taking him to their old haunt when they were teenagers in the 80s. The arcade! Closed for some time now, the people are gone, but the games remain and when they accidentally discover a time-portal, their lives are never the same.

This summer marks the fifteen year anniversary of the production for Save the Forest. I remember much of that shoot, good and bad. Honestly, they're was not much bad, if any. The summer was hot. We were sweating even while shooting at night. And some of those nights were long ones. Save the Forest tells the story of a group of movie theater employees trying to stop their small-town theater from being sold and turned into a multiplex. Insert a romantic love story with two of our friends, add some hi-jinx and you have an homage to the 80s comedies my friends and I grew up watching. Here's the trailer: I should point out the lighting is not a result of our cinematographer, but rather the transfer. This clip is over 10 years old and was shot on a DVX-100. I know, right? So old.... Everyone involved came together to create something funny and hopefully came away with some lasting memories. It was one of the last productions, Up on the Roof, ever did as it was constituted back in the day. Back then, Up on the Roof, was five friends wanting to make movies. Life happened, as it always does, and we all went off in our own paths. We're all still friends and we're all still creating in our own way. I'm still in contact with much of the cast and crew. Every now and then, checking in on each other. Of course, we all would've like Save the Forest to be a springboard for other projects, but what I've come to learn is that the need for me to tell stories is not from a place of fame or success. The satisfaction is seeing a story come to life, creating with good people and sharing in a great experience. We create for the sake of the art. Save the Forest was one of those great experiences and I will never forget it. #SavetheForest #movies #indiefilm #production #Connecticut

Take a read. If interested, feel free to tell your friends! (Written as a LiveJournal from the early 2000s) Synopsis: Dusty and Phil decide to give their best friend, Mason the birthday celebration of a lifetime by taking him to their old haunt when they were teenagers in the 80s. The arcade! Closed for some time now, the people are gone, but the games remain and when they accidentally discover a time-portal, their lives are never the same. mason_the_mace_windu wrote (mason_the_mace_windu) wrote in #paradoxed 2005-14-08 8:03:00 We Should’ve Had Ground Rules We really messed things up. Like, beyond anything I thought we could do. When you first decide to walk through a time portal you discover in an old Discs of Tron game, you really should lay some ground rules. That shit people tell you about ripple effects and paradoxes, it’s all true. We completely paradoxed the hell out of our lives. I know that ‘paradoxed’ isn’t a word, but there’s not word that can describe what we did. So, I’ve opted for a word that was made up. I’m jumping ahead, which is ironic because this whole thing started when we jumped back. Back in our own timeline, that is. Like everyone who gets older, you inevitably think back to your childhood. To how things “used to be.” No responsibility. No kids. No job. No bills. Just you and your friends hanging out, having a few laughs and doing it all over again the next day. For me and my friends, our childhood nights were usually spent at the arcade. It was 1985, which means most kids, ages of 12-17, spent their nights at the local arcade. For us, it was Brookville Amusements. Cool kids, nerds, dorks, jocks…all of us. We all loved playing those arcade games. This is before Sega Genesis and PlayStation 2. Before the games at home outperformed the machines at the arcades. Nowadays, we get the power of the arcade in our own home and it’s great, but it doesn’t compare with spending your nights at an arcade, playing games and checking out the girls. My group of friends hovered around the age of 13 back in ‘85 and all I thought about was beating those damn robots in Space Harrier. My best friend, Dusty, preferred chucking papers in Paperboy. But we all loved Discs of Tron. Even Phil and he’s the kind of nerd that complains about every little detail in the new Star Wars trilogy that contradicts the original trilogy. I’m talking about throwaway lines by characters in the background. My man, Phil, has the Phantom Menace loaded on his computer (Don’t ask me how) and he’s examined every single frame of film. He hates that movie. Hell bent on ruining it for everyone else. I made the mistake once of telling him that I didn’t think the movie was that bad. Since then, I’m reminded how wrong I am on a weekly basis. I know I dropped the idea of time travel like a lump of coal earlier and I never went back to it. My bad. I wanted to lay out some background on my friends before I got into the headier topics of my story. As some of you know, I turned 33 years old in July. July 13th to be exact. And Dusty and Phil thought it would be a good idea to take me out for the night. Looking back, I have to admit I was in a bit of a funk. My divorce was finalized in March. A major bummer. That’s an understatement. It hurt. When I first met my soon-to-be wife, Abby, I was in such a rush to be an adult. Too many video games, too many nights with the guys. It was all adding up to something I was afraid of becoming – a man-child. So, I fast-forwarded my relationship with Abby. Dated for six months, married after a year. Divorced within three years, but to be fair it was over after two. After that, I didn’t want to do anything. I shuttled myself between my apartment and work, occasionally stopping for food at points. Dusty and Phil would come over and play some video games. They’d try to set me up with people they knew. I kept putting them off. I was done with relationships, at least for the immediate future. And honestly, the whole dating thing, I’ve never been very good at it. Remember how I just bragged about spending my youth at the arcade, playing games and checking out girls? Well, that was only half true. Dusty was the ladies’ man in our group. I merely watched. Too afraid of rejection, too scared if the girl said yes. Back then, I had no idea what to do. The internet wasn’t around for us. We had to deal with squiggly lined Playboy channel and the occasional magazine left around by one of our dads for our sexual knowledge. As I got older, I wouldn’t say it got better. It didn’t get worst, if that’s a thing. It was a shock to even me when I met Abby and managed to somehow ask her out. So, the idea of being single and having to enter the dating scene terrified me. Instead of powering through those fears, I chose to socially shrivel up and bury myself in work, video games and blogging. Dusty and Phil promised my birthday celebration would be free of any opposite sex pressure, so I agreed to the night out. I figured a birthday night out would erase the taste of the office birthday cake I had to choke down in the afternoon. Store-bought cakes are not high on my list of tasty treats. The first thing I noticed getting into Phil’s Nissan Something was that Dusty smelled like Cool Water cologne. I thought it was a phase during the 90s, but it seemed to stick with Dusty. ‘Chicks dig the smell’, he’d often say. I couldn’t argue. As soon as I slid into the backseat, Dusty and Phil both spun in their seats and stared at me. Shit-eating grin on their faces. “Shit. What?” I asked. “What’s with the outfit? Preppy casual?” Dusty asked. The birthday razzing had started. I knew he’d make fun of me off the bat. It’s a standard greeting for Dusty. He made fun of my blue button-down dress shirt. I wore it opened with a T-shirt for casual affairs and if we somehow found ourselves in a classier environment, I could button it up and tuck it in. A sensible decision, if you ask me. “You said this was a surprise. So, I don’t know if that means a fancy dinner or eating at a decrepit chicken shack. I had to wear something adaptable.” “Born and Bred - 1972.” He read the image on my shirt aloud. “I know what it says.” I said, tired of this game. Dusty nodded his head. “No need to get yourself worked up.” He clapped his hands together. A bit too excessively. “We’re going to fuck shit up tonight.” “What? Why?” Phil shook his head. “We’re not fucking shit up.” “Dude!” Dusty shot back, “I told you. This isn’t about you and your nervous need to control the entire situation. Let go, for once.” “I don’t need to control a situation,” Phil argued. This went on for a bit. Real quick, Phil did try to control everything. It’s an OCD thing. Any trip we took, Phil made the plans. Any movies we wanted to see. Phil needed to buy the tickets a few days in advance. Spontaneity and uncertainty were Phil’s enemies. This also explained why he was still single. Dusty said, “Phil. You got to lighten up. Just for tonight. Please. I mean, we are doing that favor for you.” “What favor?” I asked. Dusty rolled his eyes. He held out his hands, as if he needed to calm me down. But I wasn’t angry. Yet. “Look. So, this is your night. You know it. This is all about you. And I want the three of us to be together tonight. And in order for that to happen, we have to pick up Phil’s cousin.” “Shit. Not Connor. Please. No.” I knew it was him. “I’m sorry, dude. But he’s got to come if we want to do what I want to do.” “What’s that mean?” I asked. Connor Gaines was an asshole. He was Phil’s cousin. He lived in town and we would always run into him. At the diner. At the bar. Forty miles away in some Podunk town shopping for antiques, he’d appear behind the chest holding Victorian Era platter ware. True story. Sounds annoying, right? But an asshole, Mason. Really? Yes. Really. He just couldn’t keep his opinions to himself about anything. He always had to tell you how wrong you were and how right he was. Every. Single. Time. One of the more annoying people in our small town of Brookville. And now I had to spend my birthday night with him. Phil spoke up. “Look, I’m not a fan of him either. But tonight, can’t happen without him.” “What the hell are we doing tonight?” Dusty’s smile returned. He slapped the seat several times and screamed. “Your night, Mason! Your night!” And with that, we were off. To ruin our lives forever.

A little Halloween treat...I think for you. The first chapter of one of my short stories, The Corn Maze. Enjoy! Synopsis: Halloween arrives in Brookville. The fall festival is in full swing and this year’s corn maze promises to be one no one will ever forget, especially for CLANCY DENTON and his friends as they will battle an evil force that has called Brookville home for over 400 years. Chapter One The autumn season wouldn’t be official without a visit to Kelly’s Farm, located on the eastern edge of the town of Brookville. Apple pies, cider donuts, hayrides and, of course, the pumpkin patch where families scoured pre-made rows of the orange fruit in hopes of finding the right one to cut open to make a jack-o-lantern. “Happy Halloween!” A volunteer, dressed as a scarecrow, leapt from group to group shouting the same greeting. Most liked it. Many, simply, put up with it. A few of the younger kids screamed and ran to hide behind their parents. A small group of High School kids were indifferent. “Aren’t we jumping the gun a bit? Halloween is about a week away,” One of the teen boys from the group, Peter, said with a smirk. “Uh-oh. Someone’s a Grumpy Gus.” The scarecrow made fists with his hands and rolled them back and forth, miming the action of wiping tears from his cheeks. “I’ll show you a Grumpy Gus.” It took Peter’s friends holding him back to prevent the inevitable shoving match between the self-assured High School jock and the thirty-something seasonal help dressed as a scarecrow. The scarecrow backed up. He laughed the amused laugh of a man watching a puppy unsuccessfully try to climb steps. He quickly moved on to a family of four, looking for that Halloween flair that only his rendition of a scarecrow could provide. Peter and his friends headed towards the large corn maze. The faint cry of ‘Happy Halloween’ was heard as they walked away. “You should’ve let me take him,” Peter said. He smoothed out his Brookville High letter jacket. The patches on the giant, embroidered “B” revealed a two-sport athlete. Football and baseball. “Then we would’ve been escorted from the farm. And I need to get a pumpkin for home.” This was Clancy, Peter’s longtime friend and neighbor. Tyler and Michael, both fellow football teammates and Peter’s unofficial bodyguards, joined them. Peter was the star quarterback, and they wouldn’t let anything happen to their prized player, not while the Brookville Badgers were in the midst of an undefeated season and a run for the Class M championship. Tyler was the All-State cornerback, while Michael played middle linebacker, albeit the backup most games. Clancy was the only one in their group who didn’t play football. He didn’t play any sports. Clancy found solace in books. Many, many books. He wasn’t a nerd, not that the stigma of being a nerd was as terrible as it once was, but if Peter wasn’t his friend, there’s no doubt Clancy would be the subject of ridicule. But, like anything in this world, it’s all about who you know. “Clancy, you can get pumpkins at the grocery store. Who cares if we get booted?” Peter said. “It’s tradition. Every Halloween season, I get a pumpkin at Kelly’s Farm.” Tyler chimed in, “Traditions are lame.” “Why?” Clancy asked. Tyler shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t think that far ahead. He never did. “This place is for kids, anyway. We only came because the girls said they’d be here,” Peter added. “We used to do this when we were younger, Pete. Every year, our families would do this together,” Clancy said. “Maybe you’re right, Clance,” Peter said. He looked down to Clancy’s shirt. “Whoa, Clance. What’s that?” He pointed at the shirt. Clancy looked down. Peter came up with his finger and bopped him on the nose. He laughed, “You fall for that every time, Clance. All the back to grade school.” “Still not funny, too.” “Kind of is.” “Your time is coming,” Clancy threatened. “Not going to happen,” Peter laughed. Michael pointed towards the corn maze. “There they are.” Two girls. Smiling. They made eye contact with the boys. They waved them over and then returned to their smart phones. Time to check in at FourSquare. Someone had to be the mayor of Kelly’s Farm. The boys made their way over to the girls, instinctively taking out their phones as well in order to check their Instagram feeds. Only Clancy remained engaged with the outside world around them. “This is fun,” he said, dripping in sarcasm. “Shut-up,” Michael replied, never looking up from his phone. The two groups converged as the girls looked up. Their phones put away. One of them smiled at Clancy. A polite smile. This was Harley. Popular, pretty and petite. The three Ps. She nudged Michael with an elbow, hearing what he just said to Clancy, “Be nice to him. He’s our valedictorian.” “He’s a dick, all right,” Michael said. Clancy held out his hands, “Why are we friends?” “Honestly,” Michael turned serious, “I don’t know.” Harley slapped him on the back of his head. A reminder of her previous request for niceties. Michael grabbed her hand and a pseudo-tickle fight, bear-hug happened. Just the usual couple of teenagers trying to figure out how to share their feelings without saying anything out loud. Clancy shook his head and muttered, “Moron.” Harley’s friend perked up. She smiled at Clancy. She heard his comment and agreed. This was Chrissy. One could also describe her as the three Ps, but there was more to her than a crass descriptive use of alliteration. At least, Clancy thought so. Peter picked Chrissy up and spun her around to face him. She laughed. They kissed. Brookville High’s favorite couple. “What’re we doing?” Tyler asked. He moaned, too. “Picking a pumpkin,” Clancy answered, “Like I said.” “That sounds boring. You do that and we’ll hit this maze.” “I want to do the maze!” Clancy shouted. Harley returned from her tussle, “The maze is scary. I’m out.” “Come on, babe,” Michael cooed, “We can find a spot in there and you know, do stuff.” “Romantic,” Clancy added. Chrissy laughed. Michael wasn’t amused. Peter said, “Clance, come with us into the maze and we’ll pick a pumpkin after. I doubt it’ll take us 10 minutes.” “Picking a pumpkin is a very selective process. 10 minutes? You’ve got to be joking.” The blank stares of everyone around him alerted Clancy to his mistake, “You meant the maze, huh?” They laughed. He deserved that one, Clancy thought. The kids turned to face the entrance to the maze. A sudden gust of wind rustled the dying corn stalks that made up the maze. A chill accompanied the wind and Clancy shuddered as he felt it go through him. The hairs on his arms sprung to attention. Goosebumps noticeable to the naked eye. He noticed the townspeople piling through the entrance. Families. Laughing. Smiling. Enjoying their day on the farm. The corn stalks wafted gently back and forth, beckoning Clancy to enter the maze. An invitation that Clancy didn’t want to accept. Through the wind, another sound emerged. It was soft, like a whisper, and although people were chatting and laughing and the wind was gusting, Clancy could hear the sound as if someone was right beside him, whispering into his ear. He couldn’t understand what was being told to him. It was gibberish. The noise kids make when they’re pretending to whisper to each other. Although he couldn’t make out any words, Clancy knew what was being told to him as if his brain was able to decode the gibberish. That message said one thing - “Enter…” “Yo!” Michael’s shout snapped Clancy from his trance. It also turned a few heads. “Wake up! We’ve been talking to you.” “What? What’s going on?” The message dissipated. Clancy felt like he woke up from a nap only he never closed his eyes. Peter stepped forward, “You okay? You’ve been standing there for ten minutes. Not a peep from you.” “Shut-up. Ten minutes? No way,” Clancy said with zero conviction. Chrissy and Harley both nodded. “Ten minutes, bro,” Tyler confirmed. Michael shook his head. “Who’s the moron now?” “I already bought our tickets. This maze is happening,” Peter said. Michael draped his arm around Harley, and they walked towards the entrance. The rest followed; Clancy more reluctant than the others. They were greeted by another scarecrow planted at the entrance. This one was inanimate and over-stuffed with hay poking through its decades-old flannel shirt. The scarecrow had a large, crooked black Sharpie smile on its white, pillow-case face. Tyler shook his head, not buying the farm’s scare attempt, as he passed the scarecrow. Chrissy followed right behind, glancing back at Clancy and her boyfriend. Peter held back. He brought his arm around Clancy, slapping down on the shoulder as it landed. “What’s going on?” Peter asked. “Nothing. Was it really ten minutes?” “Everyone zones out. Relax. I’m talking about you and the gang.” “They don’t like me.” “They like you.” “No, they don’t. I tell you this all the time.” “Chrissy likes you.” Clancy stuttered. Not sure how to respond. Peter laughed, “Not like that, dude! C’mon, now.” Nervous laughter came naturally to Clancy. He was relieved, but immediately concerned that Peter knew his feelings. Did he betray his own secret love for Chrissy? “I know you like her.” He did. Clancy winced. “Everyone does! She’s great,” Peter cheered. Now Clancy was in the dark as to where this conversation was headed. He wasn’t going to push it further, so he didn’t respond. He left it at a smile. Peter slapped him on the shoulder again. “Let’s go!” Peter jogged ahead to catch up with the rest of the group. Clancy hung back, still unsure what to do with the thought that Peter still might possibly know he has a crush on Chrissy. Peter was right. Everyone liked Chrissy. She was popular, no doubt, but she was nice to everyone. Kind. Considerate. Clancy knew he was included with the group because he had been friends with Peter since grade school, but the group didn’t accept him until Chrissy did. He stood at the entrance. He was cautious, locking his gaze with the drawn-on eyes of the scarecrow. Instantly, the sky went from bright blue to dark, foreboding clouds. The wind picked up. The air was electric. Clancy felt an excitement surrounding his decision to enter the corn maze. The corn stalks swooned again. A corn cob bounced off Clancy’s head. Reality set back in. Michael was laughing. “Today, Clancy!” Clancy backed away. He wasn’t going in. Michael waved him off, “Forget you.” He grabbed Harley and entered the maze. Peter held out his hands. He waved Clancy forward. Clancy took another step back. Shaking his head. Chrissy watched with concern. She ran to Clancy. “What’s going on?” Clancy shook it off. “Just don’t feel like doing the maze. That’s all.” “No. You look scared. Why are you scared?” “I’m not. It’s just…” “Don’t lie to me,” she begged. “All right. It’s just. I have a bad feeling. That’s all.” Peter joined them. “Bad feeling about what?” “The maze. You guys go. I’m just backing out. That’s all.” “Mike, Harley and Tyler are already in there. I’m going,” Peter said. Clancy nodded. He dropped his head. Chrissy reached down. She held his head in her hands and raised it up. She gazed into his eyes. “I’m not going either.” “It’s just a maze!” Peter shouted. “Obviously, it’s not. He doesn’t feel safe and quite frankly, I think he’s right.” “Why?” “You know I’m intuitive.” “That’s bologna! You just don’t want to do the maze.” “Fine. Then I’m keeping him company.” “The others are already done, I’m sure.” “Stay. Go. I don’t care. Pick one.” Peter stood firm. Hands on hips. Locked in a stare-down with his girlfriend. He didn’t win. He never did. They found a bench along the path. Peter plopped himself down as Clancy and Chrissy took the seat next to him. They sat in silence, waiting for their friends to finish the maze. Clancy finally relaxed. He watched the maze, careful to avoid another vision by steering clear of the entrance and the scarecrow that smiled that phony, sharpie smile. Chrissy rubbed his back for comfort. Clancy leaned forward on the bench, “Peter.” Peter held his hand up. “Not right now, Clance.” He understood. They all waited on the bench in silence.

Yeah, yeah. Big deal, Mike. Well, it's a big deal to me! I just wrapped up my anthology book, "Welcome to Brookville", which contains four separate stories that take place in the fictional town of Brookville, Connecticut. This is a town that a lot of strange things happen. Hey, I like world building. Sue me. This is the longest piece of work I've ever written. Both Adam Parker books hovered around 60K when all said and done. And screenplays don't even come close. Something else that's new to me. It's a YA book. A case can be made that the Parker books are YA, but I never felt that. I had a very hard time describing the genres and style of the Parker books. They're part mystery, part cozy-mystery, part YA, part...Lord knows what. That's probably why I self-published them. I never thought I'd finish "Welcome to Brookville". I had been talking about writing the short anthology for a long time, but I only had two solid stories to start - The Brookville Arms and The Corn Maze. The other two, Paradoxed and The Jar, were not on my radar in terms of including them in the anthology. I'll introduce all the stories in future posts. I'm just celebrating 85K words before the editors - whoever they may be - tear it apart. (Which I welcome, of course)

Writing for such a long time has created some interesting side effects. Such as a back log of unfinished stories on my computer. Titles like Adam Parker and the Holiday Stabbing where on the first page, I killed off Adam. Heck if I know where I was going with that one. Check out the list of unfinished scripts --> A couple of things jump out. I don't know where I Was Teenage Mayor came from. Papa was a Backstreet Boy is about a punk rock kid who discovers his father used to be a member of a boy band. The Sullivan Mystery Script is about a family of amateur sleuths. As for the Untitled ones, who knows. Then there's Jack Carver, my first IP before I knew what IP meant. I wanted to build this whole universe about a kid who investigated supernatural events. It was The X-Files, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and any other influence you can think of wrapped up into one character. The Jack Carver script in this file folder ultimately became Jack Carver: Zombie Romp. And from there I wrote the first episode in my supposed Jack Carver series called Jack Carver: Janey. That was about a giant crocodile in the sewers of East Shore (my fake town at the time) For the five scripts that are featured on this website, there are unseen dozens of finished and unfinished scripts on my computer. Writing isn't always about the finished product. It's also about the unfinished projects that never see the light of the day. It's a process. It sucks to say goodbye to some of these stories. No one starts a story with visions of failure in their head. They start it... I start with visions of success and accolades. But sometimes, stories just don't pan out. And you're left with the unfinished aftermath on your computer. But I can't delete them. I can't get rid of them because you never know when you might need them again. They call to you. Late at night. Whispers in the back of your head. Some louder, more persistent than others. The Sullivan Family is one that calls out at times. My Jake Stronghold script as well. (Fading action star goes back home) But the loudest was always Carver. Of course, I have to change his name since Jack is a character in the Far Cry video game. And after re-reading the Carver script, I think I know where and how he's going to fit in. Carver and his friends will finally have a story that could be seen by others. I just so happen to have a slot available to my new compilation series "Welcome to Brookville" and the Carver brand will do just fine. None of that would've been possible without these side effects of writing. Without my unwillingness to erase old stories. Without my ability to go back and see where I've come from in my story development as writer. Writers! Delete nothing. Save everything. You never know. And I haven't even talked about my unfinished treatments.

It's been one year since I started the Forgotten Cinema podcast with Mr. Michael Butler and it's been a consistent upward climb, in a good way. Whenever there's a lull in downloads or views, which is often with the podcasting business especially since our episode's success is contingent on the movie we're highlighting, I'm always saying "We're trending up." And while that sounds like business speak and phony, it's not. We wanted to be consistent with our episodes. One every week. We've done that. We knew that eventually, we needed to branch out an add video content to our promotions. We've done that as well. Our main goal this past year was to build our community and our audience. We done that, but it's always a work in progress. We've got plans for the second year and like all plans, they'll be adaptable to new ideas and unforeseen hits and misses. We want grow the brand and our audience. We want to develop new shows, some "spin-offs" of the FC name and some new ones as well. We want to get into producing shows with other hosts. We want to do a lot of things. I'm not saying that all of it will happen in year two, but we're definitely gearing our energy towards making all of our ideas happen. But we'll never forget about Forgotten Cinema. Where it all started. Enjoy our blooper reel in celebration of our birthday!

Check out our latest commercial for Forgotten Cinema. This is for our latest episode where we talk about So I Married An Axe Murderer. I wrote this one. Typically, Mike and I split the duties of writing just to change it up. We're always exchanging ideas back and forth during the week and then the commercial is born...after some editing, color correcting, maybe other tweaks... Enjoy!