I’m a wordsmith. A writer , a proofreader, a copy editor, an occasional ghostwriter, a journalist, a blogger, a poet, and a would-be novelist. If you’d like to hire me to write for you, here is a sample of some of my writing. I ghost-write blogs and articles. I do not write students’ essays: that’s cheating. Forgive me for bragging, but I’m good at SEO.
I formerly worked for a content writing service. Almost all my writings were anonymous. The above is the only one I have the client’s permission to reveal I wrote. Some of the others would be better references for my services as a ghostwriter, but I’m contractually obliged to maintain my clients’ privacy.
During the submissions period for Ye Olde Magick Shoppe, my current anthology project, I received around a hundred submissions. Some were of beginner quality, which is not a bad thing per se, since it means that the authors can improve their work through feedback. Other works were of higher quality, but didn’t mesh well with my own particular aesthetic preferences; other editors may well accept such work, even if I didn’t. Unfortunately, between the sheer number of submissions and my own time constraints, I did not give individualized feedback to the submitters—which is not fair of me, since they did put in the work.
I think it’s worthwhile, therefore, to write up a post discussing some of the common patterns among work that was not accepted for the anthology. That way, authors considering submitting their work to me in the future will know more about my preferences, and whether…
December 13 is the birthday of former child star Johnny Whitaker (b. 1959). The red-haired freckled Whitaker was memorable as young Jody on Family Affair(1966-1971), which we wrote about here, and was memorable as the title character in the musical film Tom Sawyer in (1973). He was also in one Steven Spielberg’s first films, Something Evil (1972) with Darren McGavin and Sandy Dennis which we wrote about here.
In conception, Sigmund and the Sea Monsters represents a slight “sea change”, if you will, from the earlier Krofft shows, H.R. Pufnstuf, The Bugaloos and Lidsville. It was less “psychedelic” than those previous ones, though it still had lots of humor. It was very much similar in conception to…
Once upon a time, Stan Lee was upset that he was a comic book scribbler, not a novelist (ie., a real writer) and he was thinking of quitting comic books. His wife Joan told him to do a comic book he was really proud of. The result was the Fantastic Four.
Well, Hollywood has treated us once again to a movie about the Fantastic Four. And once again, it has bombed. And I mean bombed. Hiroshima-level bombed. In a time when superhero movies are almost impervious to box-office failure—when special effects can give us realistic-looking monsters, other-worldly cities of the gods and flying aircraft carriers—when even obscure characters like Ant-Man and the Guardians of the Galaxy can print box-office tickets at will—the FF drop like a lead balloon dumped down one of the Mole Man’s subterranean tunnels.
And my mind has just rolled out through my ear canal and flopped onto the desk. (Actually, I bet Reed Richards could do that.) Because I simply can’t comprehend how anyone could manage to ruin this idea. Multiple times. As if no one in the movie industry has the vaguest clue as to what they have here.
Atalented actor – the perfect match of actor to character – IM sure everyone would rather read a guest blog about zcolombo than listen to me talk about rehab therapy. My physical therapist called my muscle activation beautiful.
My speech therapist said we were able to check off several goals.
I confess to having something like a mental block when it comes to most of the screen work of the late Peter Falk (1927-2011). It’s entirely my hang-up. I’ll try to articulate what it is, or what I think it is. If you’ll read through to the end you’ll find that this is an essay very much in praise of Peter Falk, so don’t get your knickers in a twist.
We’ll start with his assets. Falk, intrinsically, was himself a character. With his gravelly voice, his glass eye, and his diminutive, scrappy stature, Falk had a very narrow range. So he made it his business to be extremely truthful, using the instrument he was given. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t create different characters. He played a different character for every role he was given to play, though the variations are often subtle given the idiosyncratic nature of his physiognomy. But…