It took some time to realize my earliest influence was not H.P. Lovecraft as I so proudly announced during my first book tour. It was Gary Gygax. Co-founder of Dungeons & Dragons, sort-of creator of polyhedron dice, and the prototype for all subsequent Dungeonmaster caricatures (paunchy, bearded, bespectacled). I liked Gygax’s writing better than Tolkien’s, and I still do. So what if D&D’s Treants were obvious rip-offs of LOTR’s Ents. So what if D&D’s orcs were obvious rip-offs of LOTR’s…er, orcs.
Fellow semi-reformed nerds will know that Tolkien didn’t invent the orc, anyway. The Tolkien orc sounds a bit like the Italian orco, which referred to a human-eating monster. Hence Gygax gave us the orc, and He-Man gave us Orco, the cloaked, floating midget.
I played D&D from 5th grade to 9th grade–tracing an arc from simmering fascination with girls to full-blown obsession–and those hours spent exploring ruined monasteries and moldy crypts remain some of the most inspiring, creative times of my life. At its best, D&D provided a hero’s life for awkward pre-teens and adolescents. We all daydream; D&D was a long daydream given context and structure. I went from the only Jewish kid in school, the five foot-something skinny Jewish kid with a jumble of curly hair, to a lithe and lethal Ranger with 17 Charisma. Yes, we were aware of the irony–we peppered our schoolbus conversations with in-joke references to various magic items (any reference to a Bag of Holding sufficed, though serious gamers name-dropped Eye of Vecna like it was going out of style). The silliness of our roleplaying enthusiasm kept us laughing even in the middle of intense campaigns, but the self-deprecating laughter also gave us permission to believe our dream, if only for a little while. And I have Gary Gygax to thank for that. He will be missed.
On to business matters. My long-delayed second novel, Jack the Bastard, is back on the shopping block. After a brief flirtation with leading Manga publisher Tokyopop, I walked away from their offer and got myself a new agent (Jud Laghi at LJK Literary Management). Tokyopop wanted to publish JTB as both a novel and a graphic novel, which was great news because that has been my intention from the beginning–a simultaneous release in both mediums, with the graphic novel being the first book in a 3-shot series.
Unfortunately the Tokyopop business model is geared toward adaptations of existing franchises, with no author ownership offered to creators of new franchises. Tokyopop wanted all subsidiary rights to Jack. Despite their Faustian offer, I was tempted. For a week or so. The money wasn’t bad and I was impatient to the point of frantic to see Jack sold and published.
I regained my senses before signing anything, and now I’m waiting to see where JTB lands. But did I mention the book has already received its first blurb? That’s right–from none other than Franco Nero, Mr. Django himself. Django has always been one of my favorite spaghetti westerns, and seeing as how JTB is heavily influenced by samurai flicks and spaghetti westerns, I figured getting Mr. Nero’s endorsement was crucial. So I contacted his agent, and Mr. Nero agreed to read it. Two weeks later I got my blurb.
I mentioned Elvis in the teaser. That’s because my third novel is about Elvis. Elvis as an old man. Before you fire off an email referring to Bubba Ho-tep, you should know I’m playing it straight. No mummies, no Elvis cliches. The working title is Memphis is Burning and I just finished the first draft. It’s an Elvis/road trip/coming-of-age novel. And I’m happy with it, which is more than I could say about previous first drafts of previous novels.
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