Frank Frazetta died. He introduced me to Conan. The barbarian, that is. Without Frazetta we would not have this:
Almost every sci-fi/fantasy cover of almost every pulp mag post 1960-ish has that Frazetta composition: the thick-legged damsel in distress (often in foreground, dagger in hand), the broadsword-wielding hero in midpoint (broad shouldered, vein-strewn biceps), the dragon/long-fanged gorilla/green alien looming in the back.
I love Frazetta’s work. I love that in his later years he suffered a stroke and taught himself to draw with his left hand. I love that a first edition of his Conan portrait just sold for 1 million. Mr. Frazetta, may the afterlife hold plenty of thick-legged damsels. You will be missed.
The Facebook Fan Push begins. My publicist complains that I’m not doing enough to hype my Facebook fan page. Okay, okay–it starts here. Here’s the page. Click and become a fan. Our first goal is 1,000 fans by December 1st. ‘Nuff said.
“The Mensch” is in the hands of Those Who Can Do Something With It. All we can do is wait. One quick email–relevant to the topic, actually–and then I must go to bed:
Hi Micah:
What happened to your screenplay? Is it being made into a movie, and if not, why not? I heard that 98% of screenplays don’t get made into movies. Does that include stuff written by authors?
I didn’t like the end of your book, but the beginning and middle were okay.
-Danny
The 98% stat sounds anecdotal–hell, let’s just call it so–but the percentage is certainly high. Last I checked, my screenplay had gone to the screenplay graveyard (I’d like to envision a misty hill, the howl of wolves, a pale moon, etc., but it’s probably just some closet in a producer’s office). And that, my friends, is the last I’ll speak of this topic. Seriously. People love asking about screenplays; the reflected glory of a project that might somehow touch the mouths of celebs seems to summon more curiosity than a dozen novels.
I liked the end of my first book. Many people did, some people didn’t, which is the best I can hope for. Danny, I’m glad you at least made it through. At a reading in Seattle some guy ate the free cheese I’d set up near the book table, took one glance at the cover, and asked me, “What’s this about?”
“A young man goes to a wealthy college and gets mixed up with a group of hyper-intelligent rich kids,” I said. “They research alchemy and something bad happens.”
He shrugged, popped another cheese cube in his mouth, and said, “Fiction never sounds believable.”
Kinda’ awesome, right? I should’ve come back with that whole fiction-is-the-lie-that-tells-a-greater-truth. But I was tired, and pissed that he was eating all the cheese.
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