“WELCOME TO THE END OF 2020 – THE YEAR THAT WAS. YOU MAY EXPERIENCE SOME LINGERING ILL EFFECTS”.

I’m certain this is something we’ve all already figured out for ourselves. 2020 will soon go down in the history books, and not in a good way. We’ve had the ongoing COVID pandemic, a fraught election season in the U.S., a contentious (and contested!) U.S. Presidential election, a stalled Brexit which is going to kick both the U.K. and the EU in their collective groins, high unemployment and low GDP secondary to the last ten (10!) months of pandemic (mis)management, families on the verge of eviction, foreclosure, bankruptcy as we head into the Holiday Season, … I mean, the “2020 Chaos List” just goes on and on like a demonic Energizer Bunny from Hell, doesn’t it?

Between the last time I posted and today, I myself – despite my best efforts of wearing a mask, washing my hands, social distancing, and self-isolation (I’m a writer and a combat vet, so the whole self-isolation thing was already a lifestyle choice for me), I came down with COVID-19. October 31 I woke up with a 104 fever, coughing up BLOOD, vertigo, headache, overarching fatigue, and syncope: I passed out for 45 minutes in my bathroom. I spent most of the afternoon and evening at the ER at Madigan Army Hospital being evaluated and tested. Then I had to convince the doctors to not admit me to ICU. My logic was, if we could get my fever down, I could go home and recover there. Treatment for a viral infection is symptomatic anyway, and as long as my ABC’s (Airway, Breathing, Circulation) were good, then I wasn’t that acute. I had no decreased O2 saturation, no shortness of breath or true difficulty breathing, so I didn’t need the ICU bed or a ventilator.

Save that bed, that equipment, those supplies and the personnel for someone worse off than me.

Finally, my doctor relented, but only after making me swear and take a blood oath (okay, I did not take a blood oath) that if I got worse, I’d call for an ambulance and be seen locally by the nearest treatment facility. I promised him, I meant it, my wife drove me home.

The next ten days are still a blur. Seven of those days, I have no recollection whatsoever. I managed to stay hydrated enough to not need more IV fluids (they hung three bags on me at the ER!). Not sure what, or if, I ate. Took my meds, isolated in another room away from my wife, didn’t stay vertical for very long at any given time, and slept a lot.

A WHOLE LOT.

I’m over 6 years out now, and COVID had me feeling the way I felt during my radiation and chemo. At Day 10, I felt like I did when I was only maybe 1 or 2 years out of my cancer treatment.

I was starting to feel alive again on Day 9. Was sitting at my writer’s desk on Day 10. But here’s the thing, folks. I’M STILL FEELING SOME LINGERING EFFECTS FROM THE CORONAVIRUS. Mostly, fatigue. A lingering fatigue is well-documented in post-recovery COVID patients of a certain age. So this comes as no surprise to me. But it’s still a royal pain in the ass.

I vividly remember the overwhelming fatigue in those first months and years after I miraculously survived Stage 4 Cancer. I remember days when I could only shuffle from my bed to the bathroom, and out to the sofa for a couple of hours. Then it was back to bed. In those first 12 months or so, I slept 12-16 hours a day.

COVID is the sickest I’ve been since my cancer. It executed a sneak attack and tried to out-goddamn-flank me. I took some hits, but I ultimately prevailed. It’s gone, and I’m still standing.

But as any military man will tell you, you don’t survive battle without taking some casualties. Every victory has a price. My price for beating cancer is the long-term physical and mental disabilities I continue to endure. My price for beating COVID seems to be turning back the clock to where I now no longer feel like I’m 6 years out from cancer, but I now feel like I did when I was only about 2 1/2 to 3 years out.

But hey. What are you gonna do, right? Me, I just keep on keeping on. I finished my next novel this year. I started two non-horror feature screenplays. My manager in L.A. is closer than ever to getting the first film in a brand new horror franchise set up. We now have a commitment from a streaming service to provide finishing funds and distribution. All we have to do now is come up with the money to actually shoot the movie and get it in the can. I have some screenplays that are doing well in various screenwriting competitions. In fact, this Saturday, I will be watching online the LitScares International Horror Competition live from Yorkshire, England. One of my screenplays is a Finalist there, and I am up for Best Screenplay. So after a few bumps in the road, 2020 is beginning to look like it may end on a high note for me.

But I am still experiencing some lingering ill effects.

So here we are yet again. Summer is over. Labor Day has passed. And we’re STILL in the clutches of this coronavirus pandemic with no real end in sight. I know people are looking for anything they can glom onto for hope. And I understand get. Believe me, I get it. Unfortunately, I possess a medical background and understand the nature of viral outbreaks and disease transmission. Trust me when I say, this won’t be over by Election Day. Or Thanksgiving.

Or Christmas.

Coronavirus is here to stay. Not at global pandemic levels, to be sure. But let’s be real here. A vaccine will immunize enough of us to attain herd immunity levels, but it will not eradicate the virus. The polio vaccine has been around since the 1950s. People still get polio. The measles vaccine has also been around for decades. People still get measles. Same with influenza, pneumonia, SARS, ebola… you get the gist.

So temper your expectations, folks. It’s going to be a marathon, not a sprint.

So as artists, how do we keep going? How do we not become disappointed, disillusioned, hopeless? How do we not simply throw our hands up and cry to heaven, “What’s the point”?

Each artist must look within themselves for that answer. Do not look to the outside world for your inspiration. True motivation always comes from within. It may be because you lose yourself in your art. It may be because you forget about the worries of the day.

Speaking only for myself, my mental machinations simply won’t let me quit. In order to understand that, you have to understand my life experiences. I grew up in small-town Texas in the 60s and 70s. I had a demanding father and a strict mother. Even as a small child, they never allowed me to quit anything once I started. If I tried something and failed, that might be okay; I was never allowed to quit. “No son of mine is going to grow up to be a quitter!”. I can still hear my old man say that, and he died in 2012.

I played on my school’s football team from 7th grade through my sophomore year in high school. I can still hear my coaches screaming, ” Come on! Come on! Don’t quit until you hear the whistle! Keep those legs moving! Churn, churn, churn! Losers quit, and we’re not losers!”

We won a lot of games.

See a pattern forming here?

In the military, everything took on a more serious tone. It wasn’t family pride or a football game at stake; it was human lives. You never quit as long as you had breath left in your body. Period. As a Fleet Marine Force Navy Corpsman, it didn’t matter if I lived or died. What mattered was that my Marines survived, that I never let my Marines down. If one of my guys died, it wasn’t going to be because I gave up.

In combat, if you quit – EVER – not only do you get yourself killed, you likely also get the people around you killed. And that is a cardinal sin.

Well, my military days are long behind me, just like those football games and living in my parents’ house. But those lessons are ingrained in my DNA now. So is that level of intensity. Never give up. Find a way to push through. Get those legs under you, and churn churn churn. Chug chug chug. Never stop.

“Some people wait for inspiration. The rest of us get up and go to work.” – Stephen King

I take this quote to heart. I’ve often spoken my mantra that writers… write. Every day. And I practice what I preach. Sometimes it’s fun, easy, fulfilling, almost a spiritual experience. Other days it’s a chore, a slog, akin to ice skating uphill or swimming through mud. Some days I look forward to it; some days I dread it. Sometimes I get a lot done; sometimes very little. Sometimes I’m creating new content, other times I’m working on the business end of things.

But I spend significant time on it every day, even the days when I don’t feel like it. Even when I lack inspiration.

Because that’s how you finish a work of art. That’s how you finish a novel, a short story, a screenplay, a painting, short film, feature film, a sculpture, a mural — whatever your own artistic outlet happens to be.

I write every day because I’m a writer. It’s what I do. And I can’t NOT do it.

Well, here we are, folks. My last blog entry was April 12. Being the hopelessly optimistic person I am, I had hoped (and had been confident) that by my next entry, things would be getting better in America and around the world.

I was wrong.

They’re not better.

The pandemic is now ongoing. They’re working to get a handle on it, but it takes time to do it and do it right. In the meantime, people are still afraid. And that fear is leading to some rather ugly displays of human behavior, from people intentionally coughing or spitting at other people and then stating they have the COVID, to customers in masks running customers without masks out of the store.

And speaking of ugly human behavior…

Here in America, we’re dealing with yet another murder of an unarmed black man at the hands of a white cop. This loser is the kind of cop that makes ALL cops look bad. I don’t stand on a soapbox very often. In fact, I try to avoid it. But this is a special case in a special time, isn’t it?

I come from a law enforcement family. My brother is a retired cop. My oldest son is a cop. My oldest daughter is a cop. I have an extended family member, a nephew, who is a  cop. That sort makes me the odd man out at family reunions because I’m a writer. But I did do 20 years active duty military, so there’s that. Point is, in most cases I tend to side with cops, or at least give them the benefit of the doubt. Being a combat vet who’s participated in direct combat operations on three continents, I understand all too clearly the burden of making split-second life and death decisions in combat situations. They call it “the Fog of War”. Been there, done that. Still carry the scars.

But that’s not what happened this time, folks.

We’ve all seen the video. We all know what happened. The entire planet knows what happened. This video will wind up being admitted as evidence in each of the four former officers’ trials. What really appalls me even more than the one cop kneeling on the victim’s neck (which is outrageous enough!) is that NONE of the other three did anything to stop him or pull him off. If they had, perhaps george Floyd would still be alive. But their moral weakness and lack of a backbone directly contributed to this man’s death.

It’s called depraved indifference when you stand there and watch someone die.

So what are we, as artists, supposed to do? You can protest, participate in peaceful marches and rallies. You can attend city council meetings and county Board of Supervisor meetings. Write to your Congressman and/or Senator. Use social media. Make your voice heard. Just don’t get hurt doing it. And don’t hurt anybody else while you’re doing it. Otherwise, you’re making the problem worse.

What else are we, as artists, supposed to do? I suggest we USE it. Use what’s going on in this moment in time. Let it inspire you, drive you to create new content. You can point out and address problems directly through your work, and you can offer up possible solutions. Paint, sculpt, write. Whatever it is you do, do it. Do it with PURPOSE.

Please understand, I’m not bashing America. I love my country. I deployed to foreign lands for it, fought wars for it, killed for it, bled for it, and Goddamned near died for it. But America is not perfect, never has been. And what happened to George Floyd is more than just wrong, it is CRIMINAL. These fired, disgraced, former cops had been handed a sacred public trust. They betrayed that trust in the most horrific manner. I fervently hope they get what’s coming to them when they have their day in court.

America must do better. America must be made better. And it must be made better by US. For if we don’t do it, then who will? No one will do it for us. That much is evident. And if we don’t do it now, then when will we do it?

We can’t trust the Government to police itself because history shows us time and again that it CAN’T. If the Government could effectively police itself, these types of atrocities wouldn’t continue to happen.

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing the same way over and and over and expecting a different result.

There’s a lot of work to do, that must be done, in order to make this country BETTER for ALL people. No matter how you choose to go about doing your part, LET’S GET TO IT. As terrible as the situation is, we actually have been presented with a wonderful opportunity right a whole history of wrongs.

Let’s not blow it.

The world is a different place now than it was when I wrote my last blog entry. We’re now living through a worldwide viral pandemic caused by the Coronavirus designated COVID-19. I predict this will become a lingering threat for months, not weeks. Even after we’re past the apex for new cases and patient mortality begins to decline, we will all still be living with the specter of a secondary outbreak.

But I’m here to talk about writing.

With all the people housebound now, trying to shelter in place, avoid contamination/inoculation by this virus, and trying to ride the pandemic out at home, people need entertainment. They can only work from home so much. Some people, due to the nature of their jobs, can’t work from home. And if they’re not designated as “essential workers”, they’re at home, all sense of normalcy and control stripped away from them, stuck in a kind of limbo. Not a good thing. If there’s one thing I learned in my military days was the importance of keeping people busy. Don’t let them think too much. Give them something to focus on, rather than what’s going on around them. That’s how you avoid depression and panic.

The world needs art, and artists, now more than ever before.

They need music, books, TV shows, movies. They need to be entertained. They need to be engrossed. They need to be diverted, temporarily removed from the circumstances of their lives, and ushered into another world, another realm, another reality for a while. When you think about it, the Arts become a mental and emotional balm. Our work becomes a mood enhancer, or at least a stress reducer.

That’s the job, man. That’s the responsibility we artists have. Whether we’re actors, dancers, directors, writers, musicians, painters, sculptors, or whatever else, we all aspire for our work to awe, inspire, transform, or at least entertain. We want to communicate with others through our chosen medium. Have a conversation. Make a statement. Or in some cases, merely pose an important question.

In these times of angst, uncertainty, and anxiety, people need us. They need the work that only we can produce. They need the (temporary) escape. True, all their problems will not miraculously disappear just by watching one of our shows or in my case, reading one of my novels. But that’s not the point. It helps a little, maybe brightens their day, and that my friends, IS the point. And those of us with ability have a responsibility to rise to the occasion. We must harness our talents and channel them to help alleviate, in some small way, other people’s fears and despair.

We need more art in the world now than ever before. It is a tremendous responsibility we artists have. I am editing my next novel, and i am developing a new feature film screenplay that deals with some of the current events going on in our world. I believe am up to the challenge.

I hope you are, too.

Writers need to be MORE than just writers. It takes more than just great writing telling a compelling story with engaging characters with a distinct and unique voice. Writers need to get that. I know you don’t like it. I don’t either. But this is what we’ve chosen to do. This is the business we’re in. So suck it up, buttercup. Your job is not yet done. Rise to the occasion, or someone else WILL rise in your place.

Completing your project is only the beginning.

You must develop and utilize a completely different skill set. Take your artist hat off and put that business/PR hat on. You might have written the next Great American Novel or Screenplay. But if you don’t market it (and yourself!) to the right people in your chosen industry, then you’re dead in the water. There are all kinds of books and websites that show you how to form proper query letters. Follow the rules. Poorly written queries that don’t follow protocol get rejected out of hand. They also get you branded a rank amateur. You only have one chance to make a first impression, folks. This is not the time to demonstrate what an original rebel you are.

Take the time to check out the person and the company you want to submit to. Follow their rules about how to query them. Their rules were developed to make going through their slush piles faster and easier for THEM. Again, follow their rules. Don’t make their jobs harder. You only have one chance to make a first impression. Be professional.

In my own circumstance, I am fortunate enough to have an OUTSTANDING Literary Manager based in Beverly Hills for my screenplays and teleplays. I came to her as a nobody with a microbudget horror script. She took a chance on me and my work, and we have a warm working relationship. Since she lives in L.A. and I live in Northwest Washington state, she is my eyes and ears to Hollywood. Anything she tells me I accept as gospel.

But: I have to be more than just a writer. I have to think like a producing partner.

For every screenplay I write, I also write a logline and a synopsis. Then I write a query using these elements. That’s the easy part. Once my Manager and I agree that a script is in good enough shape to send out, I come up with a “one-sheet” (also known as Key Art) for a movie poster.  It’s not what will be used for a final film; it’s just something to convey the mood of the piece to a producer or financier so they can “get the gist” with a single glance.

I develop the “Pitch Plate”, aka a “Visual Deck” or a “Look Book”. This is a series of representative photos, drawings, and other artwork, complete with text overlays that explains the logline, synopsis, genre, projected budget, any talent attached, and other important information about the film project.

This is not where you talk about how “cool” or “great” the movie will be. Producers and financiers don’t care about that. They care about how much is it going to cost, how long before they see their money back, and what will the ROI (Return on Investment) be?

Convince them to take a risk on you and your project. Convince them to risk millions of dollars in order to make tens of millions or hundreds of millions in profit. Convince them they can make money off of you. You’ll do this for every screenplay you write.

Welcome to showbiz, kids.

I do not currently have a literary agent for my novels. I hope to change this in the not too distant future. On my debut novel, NOCTURNAL, I felt an urgency to get the book out into the world because I was dying of a Stage 4 throat cancer when I wrote it. Every literary agent to whom I submitted rejected it. I did not know if I was going to live much longer, so I published through Amazon and IngramSpark and became an indie author.

Lucky for me, I beat my cancer (so far!). In the 6 years since, I have learned about marketing, PR, garnering reviews, and pushing sales to build my readership. It’s exhausting, and it takes time away that could be used creating new content. Hence my desire to land a literary agent who can submit my next novel (I’m revising and editing now) to the more traditional publishing houses. Once I am finished editing and revising, then the real work begins again for me.

I have to convince someone I’m a talented writer and a seasoned professional who understands other aspects of the business, and is not an asshat. I have to convince someone I have something commercial and marketable, something that a publisher can make money from.

And that means convincing an agent I’ve written something THEY can make money from.

See how that works?