Sunday, October 21, 2018

Happily Ever After

I haven't been very active on Facebook lately, nor on any other social media sites the last few months.
Or frankly, the last few years to people who have known me a long time.
I have been wrestling with demons for a while now, figuratively and literally. Well, maybe not so much literally.
I am a person that suffers from Writers Block and have done so ever since I stopped considering myself an “amateur” writer and started writing from the perspective of self-respect and craft. When I was a teenager, I retreated into my fictional world as a means of therapy and processing events.
For a good while, I was a volunteer pastor / minister type at church and developed my journalistic and persuasive skills in that line of work.
By the time I was aiming to seriously write novels, plays and screenplays, I realized that it’s very difficult to write when one lacks passion about the subject matter. From about 2000 to 2005, the novels I wrote became much longer but the palette of subject matter converged and themes became far more focused. I realized that if I couldn’t consistently “top myself” I shouldn’t even bother saying anything.
That very few people were even listening at that stage was beside the point. Mostly lady friends were reading my stuff back then. Attempted Rapture wasn’t even published until 2004. Cry on Cue in 2005 and Jaded Sapphira was just published last year, as an add on to Attempted Rapture. Gouging the Wound was permanently retired and The Song of Solomon remains in literary purgatory as, with dignity, my self-professed “most worthless novel ever written in the history of humankind.”
After briefly flirting with the “art of trolling” at a few writer forum websites, (which was actually a good experience, mingling with so many hateful people and learning to respond creatively to unwarranted and unsolicited criticism) I realized my efforts could be far better spent looking for work.
During this time, I began to turn my writing obsession and hobby into a paying career and gradually understood that like giving sermons in church, there was something very perfunctory about writing for profit. You had to do it, if you wanted to eat. You had to shake off the writer’s block, the laziness and the stubborn rebellion to do anything else except writing about these awful vacuum cleaners, or whatever I was helping to sell.
I avoided ghostwriting fiction during this time because at least nonfiction and sales was easier to write or “fake”. Fiction still felt very real to me.
My first real writer’s block started after I got married in 2007. It wouldn’t get it back until I was writing Raining Cats and Dogs in 2008. During these years, I became distracted by more journalistic endeavors, writing news headlines, humorous commentary and satirical pieces for work.
Eventually I became bored of the salesy articles at work and became drawn to commercial fiction. Genre flicks including romance, horror, Christian, sci-fi, historical, erotica (nice!) and the like. At first they were a lot of fun.
Over time though, I really lost the passion for writing fiction that was ultimately someone else’s idea and a bunch of clichés, hackneyed plots and familiar territory.
It got to the point where I was writing fiction in a perfunctory manner, not caring about any of these shallow characters, and quite frankly, hoping they would all die terrible deaths after the fade out.
So while I was experiencing “Writer’s Block” during this time, it didn’t actually prevent me from working. I shoved through the blasé and the empty shell of a passionless, pointing writing prompt of an exercise, and I wrote anyway.
I even distracted myself for literally years, re-writing and re-editing Attempted Rapture, which I released as a self-published book in 2014.
At some point I realized Attempted Rapture felt like a very year 2000 book. It represented my mind at the age of 23 or 24 and yet didn’t feel like a book that was actually the Current Me, plus all my accumulated wisdom, cynicism and nihilism. I really had nothing to claim for my modern self. Nothing that represented my views of the world, which of course in 2015 was a world defined by polarized social media commentary.
While I did waste hours of time arguing with people on Facebook, I still had a lot of manic energy that had no real outlet. Then I had the idea of The End of the Magical Kingdom, not as a book, but as a cartoon musical. I researched ways on how to turn this vision (an admittedly simple idea about gay marriage) into reality.
That never turned out because raising money and making time for thousands of hours of work proved impossible. That’s when I decided to complicate the idea and turn a simple argument that says “a witch and a princess should be allowed to marry” into a “chain reaction of events that led to world war.”
It seemed fitting, in lieu of the doomsday discussion happening for most of Election Year 2016, and that’s why I followed up Part 1: The Evil Princess with Part 2: The Saint of Science and Part 3: The Watchmaker’s Child, which essentially represented doom, gloom and the triumph of evil over good.
I really tried to end the princess war novels with episode 3 but it really bothered me that I ended on such a simple, fatalistic note. The concept was there… “How can there be a Happily Ever After” ending in a world where happiness was stomped out by corporate greed and commercial war?”
I felt I jumped the shark with The Saint of Science, given how horrific the imagery was, and the complete lack of redemption in developing the villains of the book and how they essentially win the war. The only way to “top myself” again was with The Watchmaker’s Child, and indeed to bring not only sci-fi and technology to the discussion, but returning to the concept of God as a non-omnipotent being, the Watchmaker who simply keeps the world turning with only limited intervention.
Finally, I conquered my writer’s block by writing about subject matter I was passionate about – words that demanded to be typed, characters that demanded to speak through me, as if I was channeling genetic memory and not merely using my imagination.
The Watchmaker’s Child was the most disturbed and yet beautiful work of art I had crafted and yet it felt completely soulless, as Schizoid as the lead character herself. The fact that the villains prevailed in the series was a nod to The Empire Strikes Back, and the idea that bad guys usually do win in real life.
The only way to top myself again would be to write a “Happily Ever After” ending to all this madness and ultra-realism (stubbornly reincarnated into a fantasy comedy). I struggled with the idea for years.
And now, as I am 100,000 words into my Work In Progress, I have finally found the Happily Ever After that eluded me for so long. I’ve found the passion that was missing in my creative life. I really did feel as if I tortured my characters for so long, they simply deserved restitution, redemption and rejuvenation, despite their irredeemable suffering.
They didn’t just deserve Happily Ever After For Now, they deserved a lifelong healing, a feeling of peace. The same peace, the same Happily Ever After that I slowly realized my wife gave me, my writing partner gave me, my parents gave me.
We make our own happy endings in life by changing our perspective, by getting rid of conflict and misery, and as much as possible, by reimagining our universe to be successful, peaceful and magical on a daily basis.
If only I could capture that thought and turn it into a gigantic novel that saves everyone and everything, and hopefully gives the human race itself some hope, even at the brink of World War IV, even in a world where nihilism, atheism and cynicism reign supreme.
And now that project is consuming me and most of my energy.
What is the new book about?
In a word, forgiveness. The final episode 4: “The Twin Flame” is about one simple idea, multiplied by numerous variables. The idea that an evil person can change - perhaps the one true honest thing that Religion gives us, and one that a secular society falls proudly short of giving us.
When I finally finish this book, probably by early 2019, I will have figured out where I stand with God, Religion, Agnosticism, Cynicism, The Secret of the Universe, and Questioning Everything.
I will most likely readjust my viewpoint and my values.
It is a book that I feel will change my life permanently and hopefully some day, will change the world itself for the better.

Thursday, September 6, 2018

The Most Worthless and Pointless Novel in World History

I'm not the best writer who ever lived...I'm not the worst writer who ever lived. But I admit to penning the most worthless and pointless novel in world history.

I wrote a 75,000-word book for a woman who didn't love me & who actually despised every fiber of my being. The cover sucked too. The company that offered to publish it was a SCAM company that literally took my money and ran. This was the old days, before Lulu and Amazon Publishing.

My girlfriend (at the time) read the book, broke up with me months later. My parents hated it & never finished reading it. Literally, every friend that knew of it is dead or permanently estranged from me. My wife to this day doesn't like to talk about it. The only PG-rated book I ever wrote too.

I actually never published it. The girl I loved didn't even read it or know of its existence. It's one of those "open 100 years after I'm dead" books. 😄  At least I can laugh about it now.

Friday, August 17, 2018

Mary Melancholy - Anti-Feminist Princess?

"Is Mary Melancholy a terrible feminist and does she set the feminist movement back to the Snow White 1930s era?"

This is a tricky question to answer. Mary is a parody of a Disney princess and is thereby, inhabiting the same anti-feminist qualities as Snow White, Belle, Ariel and Jasmine. Belle tolerated violent outbursts and manipulative behavior from the Beast. Jasmine tolerated Aladdin’s chronic lying. Ariel figured it was better to seduce a man with looks and body language than to talk and show her personality. And Snow White and Sleeping Beauty…well, let’s just say they thought rape was kind of romantic.

Of course, being an anti-feminist character didn’t make these princesses unwatchable or uninteresting . It simply made them complicated heroes. Keep in mind that more modern Disney feminists—like Pocahontas, Mulan and Merida—are evolutions of the old Disney princess archetype. They are socially-aware improvements made over time, something that we only now have the environment in which they can thrive.

This original Disney Princess archetype was based on stories from the Brothers Grimm, who didn’t understand modern feminism in the 21st century, but simply created a fictitious world of horror and lore, along with moralistic stories that were intended to scare children—not promote positive role models. It is a very trendy thing today to paint every female character as intelligent, confident and kick-ass; a world conquering, Amazonian female that just happens to look beautiful and be 17 or 18 years old.

In that respect, Mary Melancholy was conceived as an anti-hero, one that would be polarizing because she wore her weaknesses in plain view and tolerated great injustice from other people. In addition to being self-conscious, self-loathing and depressive, she is also socially awkward, in a time where every mainstream female character knows exactly the right thing to say. In other words, Mary is a fairly realistic character in an imaginary world, and the type that many will find provoking because she hits far too close to home.

She represents everyone’s worst social fear—people laughing at you, pushing you around and dominating your life because they’re so smart and you’re so stupid. It’s not true but it’s the illusion that you buy into, if you trust people too much. Mary, much like my other literary anti-heroes, is a woman you will instantly despise or admire, because there is something very Christ-like about her. She is the feminine Jesus Christ. A prophetess. A Gandhi-esque figure, living in the shadow of her Goddess, who was the perfect representation of feminism and falling short of that.

To say that Mary should be more of a feminist is…

(1) Not realistic, because very few teenagers have a full sense of their identity or where their own unique feminism will take them in life. It’s a gradual learning process that culminates in their 20s or 30s.

(2) Is contrary to the suffering of Jesus, Buddha, Gandhi and other righteous figures (or self righteous, if you’re a cynic), who tolerated violence from humanity so that they could teach a lesson in showing great mercy.

(3) Is taking for granted that in modern society we have the gift of mass communication, an age of tolerance, and a politically-correct mafia that will come to your aid whenever you are being oppressed. This was not always the case in human history; certainly not in medieval times or the renaissance, where many Disney films are set. Even growing up in the 1980s and 1990s, I can definitely say many minority lifestyles were oppressed by the mainstream and it did seem that when you “came out”, you really didn’t have a friend in the world. To me, feminism is not about society coming together to help you because it’s the right thing to do…it’s about you, standing alone, and realizing that you can be better than them. You can be stronger than you think you are. And you can aim higher.

(4) To misunderstand the nature of the “Anti-Hero”. The Evil Princess is a literary work and an impostor genre piece. To be anyone else but Mary would be untrue to her character.

In episode 2 of the “The End of the Magical Kingdom: The Saint of Science”, Mary will continue to grow as a moral activist and pacifist, and will continue to provoke people who stubbornly see morality as black or white.

Monday, July 9, 2018

Death & Kitties

Something minor happened two days ago that ordinarily would have pissed me off and put me in a depressive funk for days, even weeks.
But the truth was, I was already emotionally numb by that point. Because I lost my cat of 10 years just a few days ago. I haven't felt much of anything or cared about anything ever since. I suppose I was in denial the first few hours or so, trying to convince my brain it was just an animal and not my child. But eventually the grief set in and suddenly the world changed for the worst.
Not just the idea of losing him, but the reminder that he was part of my daily routine for ten years, a significant part of my life. Now that world, that existence I took for granted, was over. A part of my life was over.
We were a quartet (two parents and two cat babies) who were there for each other, very often at times when our fellow human beings abandoned us, didn't care, and made no effort to stay in touch. Our kitties were they for us in the best of times and the worst of times.
Our pet family members are not merely surrogate children, but furry adopted sons and daughters who help us survive life, especially when we're at our rock bottom. I said, "if heaven exists, then it must be full of cats". Cats, and really all animal life, are so much better than people at least when it comes to providing unconditional love, trust and motivation to keep on going.
Your animals love you even when society hates you, even when the world judges you. Even when your friends find better things to do than to bother paying any attention to you. Humans are self-involved, animals are fiercely loyal.
How anyone can equate acts of barbarism, violence and cruelty to ANIMAL behavior is beyond me. Animals are truly beautiful.
I suppose right now, I'm progressing past the pain and guilt, and depression stage, and am stuck in Anger Phase.
I am angry. Angry at the world, particularly those people out there who post hashtags about #suicideprevention thinking they're doing such a big favor for us, directing us to a Suicide Hotline.
All of their simulated caring and compassion feels dishonest to me. As someone who has struggled with depression their whole life, I know the difference between someone who feels what I feel and someone who is smiling for cameras, or posting on Facebook or Twitter to let the world know they are "against suicide" whatever that means.
The truth is hard to swallow. Ninety percent of everybody doesn't care about you while you're alive. They insult you, mock you and ignore you when you need help. Social media is a gladiator arena of instant judgment. The cruelty of humankind is there, online. It's not just the "deep web" where evil lurks. It's on the most "popular sites" where we swallow war propaganda daily, where we learn to despise others for their flaws, and where we learn that rehabilitation is impossible...HATE is clearly the answer. Our side destroying their side.
But when you DIE, or when you're thinking about suicide, they put on such a show, don't they? "Don't do it because we're all there for you. Don't give up."
The thought of death bothers them. The guilt of not giving a damn about fellow human being gets to them.
But when do they ever bother to help people who are struggling to live?
Of course, of course, they have their own lives to live. They have their own problems, their own to-do lists that don't involve us.
Which brings me to the point, outcasts, misfits of society and depressed people like us need each other. We need someone who understands the struggle, not fucking phonies. Not people who send "warm thoughts" (you know, "thoughts" and "condolences" and "positive energy" - which are the EXACT same thing as "thoughts and prayers")
We don't need happy people lecturing us about how terrible our despair is and what we need to do to change it.
If you're a happy person wondering what you can do to help, the only thing you can do is to offer to help with your actions...offer to listen, and to sit with a person going through grief, so you can talk about what hurts and what they miss. Spend time with them.
If you're happy in life and doing well, keep it to yourself. Be thankful your life is going well and be respectful of those whose lives are not going so well. Stay out of our way. What we need is someone who actually cares, someone who loves us despite our most serious flaws.
I wish I could say that I, you, or someone else I know could be there for you 24-7. We all say something like, "I'm here to listen..." and we mean it. And yes, I know, I know, I know, it's not always realistic to say. Days go by and rob us of free time. Work piles up, distractions, family time, sleep...sometimes all we have in us is to fall asleep and have some peace for a few hours.
But what I've gathered from all of this, is three things I know for sure
(A) Whenever you can afford the time, please reach out and ask a friend or family member how they're doing. Ignore their first answer and ask them again. Maybe they're just dying to talk to someone about their problems but don't know who to talk to. Don't just say you it by investing your time. I know you can't afford to do this to everyone you meet, but at least to your friends, to the ones whom you've shared life with. Don't take friendships for granted. If they're not nurtured they do wither away...I know from experience. RIP, all my friends living or dead, who wandered away without even a "goodbye."
(B) Stop waiting for people to save you, stop waiting for people to show they care. They seldom do. People are self-absorbed. They're so fixated on their own pleasure and survival, they don't have time for you They have time for "causes" that make them feel better about themselves. People won't be there for you, they will disappoint you.
(C) But Goddamn it, your pet will always be there for you. Your fur baby will love you 24-7. Your pet is one good reason to continue getting up in the morning. Your pet is one reason not to give up on life. Your furry, feathered or scaly friend will make life enjoyable. The little moments in life are what make it good. Pets make those moments possible. They don't speak the same language, but they communicate emotion just as well as we do. Let your pet entertain you. Let your little adopted child comfort you and be there, when human beings are too busy.
The only thing STRONGER and more POWERFUL than the despair you feel right now because no one else loves you, is the desire a pet has to love you, and worship you, and need you - if only you have love to give.
Hug your pet goodnight and treasure these moments. If you don't have an animal in your life, get one. Don't live alone. Fill the room with the sounds of tiny feet.
There is love in the world, this I know. Just keep looking...and look below you at the little creature pulling on your leg.

Thursday, April 5, 2018

Late Mitchell Warren RIP

Late Mitchell Warren is a character I created years ago because I was afraid of speaking my mind...and because I was eager to offend everyone, troll everyone on the Internet, and prove something to the world.

Nowadays I don't really care about any of that stuff.

I think this is what 40 feels like, realizing that the stuff that really bothered you in your 20s really doesn't matter in the stream of time.

Politics and religion today will all be irrelevant in another 1000 years. We only pile on the miseries by devoting so much time to nonsensical right vs left hyperbole.

We burden ourselves with stress, sleepless nights, and bouts of rage over the fact that we can't change certain animals from following their instincts and being those animals. (P.S. the answer is always has been and always will be)

But I think maybe there is clarity as you grow older.

There is symmetry in admitting that you don't know. That everything we tell ourselves about what "IS", what IS for sure, is all speculation, the pats and caresses we give ourselves because we're afraid to admit some things are unknowable.

Happiness is realizing that none of it matters, and that "nihilism" is simply trying to see the ends of the universe from a microscope. What matters is not how you define life and the universe, because such perspective-based dogma is as useful as your grocery list. Such is merely the things that sustain you.

Happiness is in experiencing joy in the little moments. Because joy reminds you that you're alive. Joy is life.

Negativity reminds you that Life is not ENOUGH. It's a death sentence to an intelligent person. It's a prescription for insanity, especially if you write a million words about allegorical depressive nonsense.

Happiness is not being optimistic about your plan to change the world. It's about *not* changing the world and accepting that you never will. It's about admitting your complete lack of value, a minutia of life, a infinitesimal speck that grew from space mold. But still finding the time to enjoy Good Things.

Your perspective, your mindfulness, allows you to enjoy good things.

Happiness is in realizing that life is all a hologram. And that there really is no difference between THEN and NOW. All you are is your current perspective and what you think your memories have turned you into.

All you are is what you accept that you "see" in real time. Whatever it is that you see, the lies you tell yourself, or the illusions you insist are there, will be your reality as you know it.

I realized this just a few days ago, when I experienced what is called "unconscious selective attention."

For about two years, I've been occasionally going to a local church. In this building, I saw an empty wall in the corner.

I had always considered it a fire hazard since the emergency exit door was on the other side of the building. What if there was a fire or a shooter? I sit near the in the event of disaster, I would be sitting against an empty wall with no escape.

I had numerous conversations with people about that empty wall. I thought about it a little obsessively for the longest time.

Most people I talked to about it said, "I doubt anything would ever happen" or "If that happens, just work your way back towards the library room and lay low." (No mention of the fact that the fire exit was RIGHT THERE and all I would have to do is just exit quickly from that door that was just a few feet away from me)

Then, one day I suddenly noticed that there was a huge fire exit door with a fire extinguisher. It had been there the whole time, but I never saw before it until that day.

I told my wife about seeing that "empty wall" and had full conversations with her about my paranoia of something bad happening because of a lack of an exit door.

Then the last time I mentioned it, she said, "What are you talking about? The second emergency exit door has ALWAYS been there." (Proving that they did not just recently install it)

To my perspective, it seemed as if the fire escape appeared out of thin air. I could argue all day that it was in fact NOT there and that the environment changed. That was "fact" to me, that it wasn't there, because my perspective told me it was.

Was it always there (and am I going senile) or did it suddenly appear? Was this a glitch in the matrix?

No, my perspective and my unconscious simply demanded that it wasn't there and so I never saw it.

That experience helped me to realize something else about my current perspective: that I don't like myself.

I don't like the person I've become.

I am the result of a lifetime of mistakes and on hyper-focusing on the most negative, depressing and vile stories of humanity. I am an internally, destructive force, the cerebral equivalent of a tornado, and all my friends, enemies and acquaintances can hope to do is survive my presence.

I no longer consider myself a writer. I am retiring from writing permanently. Tis better to leave the world in the hands of writers who believe in something...who still have faith, or hope, or vision, preferably something better than the swamp of futility that I refuse to leave. The nothingness, the frailty, the imperfection and the suffering of mankind that only the depressive perspective sees.

I think my life is more than half over. Another thing you realize about turning 40: all the seeds you sowed from 18 and on either grow or they die within 20 years.

To the young, I suggest you sow those seeds as soon as possible rather than waiting. Because when you're my age, it's time to start ENJOYING what you have, rather than waste anymore time chasing rainbows.

Most of the friendships and career opportunities I had in my 20s have long expired. Even some of my best friends are dead or at least are ghosts of their former selves, back when I knew them.

What do I have to show for my life 40 years later? Just over 100 friends on my other profile and a much longer list of acquaintances who used me for various purposes and forgot me when they found better offers elsewhere.

I now cling to what still IS, rather than what could have been.

The only thing I have left in this world is not anything I have to give, but only what I have been given.

My wife Heather Warren who has tolerated my stupidity and (Mary) melancholy for ten years, like a wonderful and fearless witch. (And I use witch only in the most respectful and affectionate terms-witches are beautiful)

That, together with the fact that she can stand my horrifically ugly face and my even more demonic and poisonous personality, which has historically repelled all other women, is a testament to her moral and intellectual strength.

She is and always will be my Prince Valiant - a character from "The Twin Flame", a book I will probably never finish. But the point was, she is pure, she is stalwart and the incorruptible knight every Disney Princess dreams of marrying. Nothing of which I deserve, but that which has been generously given to me.

I will spend the rest of my life enjoying my limited time with her. Enjoying life and shunning the depression and moral decay that has permeated my life for so long. Hopefully, my parents will move up near me too, and give me a few moments of peace.

I have no more time to waste wondering where I went wrong in life. I only want to dwell on happy thoughts from now until the end of this world, and this human body, because I have dug myself into the molten bottom of despair and discovered Hell for what it always has been - the present-tense perspective of human suffering.

The book "Jaded Sapphira" ends with my legendary character Hal Persill committing suicide as retribution to a God he hated. He does so without ever learning of his daughter Floren's existence. She was, perhaps, the only thing that could have made him happy in life. She was the blessing of God that he missed, in his arrogance, and in his nihilism.

All these years later, I understand why I wrote it. As a reminder not to go down that path - it's a road to nowhere.

So yes, I do consider myself *blessed* in that I have a wife who loves me. She is quite literally, I feel, what God has given me in this life.

What I needed to survive, what I LACKED from a previous life, because I missed the point of existence when I lived so self-indulgently as King Solomon.

She is God's blessing, a love note from the Universe and she always has been. Whatever God is, if he/she exists, permeates the likes of such an honorable and altruistic creature.

Feel free to join me on my other pages...but know that Late Mitchell Warren is officially dead.

Thursday, January 11, 2018

The End of the Magical Kingdom Pre-Interview, 2017

L.M. Warren's "The End of the Magical Kingdom” trilogy was always devised as the strange mutant baby of internet cartoons and social media trolling.  Subversify caught up with Mitchell and piqued his mind regarding his unique writing style, which is often described as “emotionally violent” and “hostile to the audience.”

Q: Many of your glowing reviews liken your writing to “trainwreck poetry”.  It’s beautiful, it’s poetic and yet it’s a traumatic experience.  Why?

A: I believe it’s the voice of the Now, as opposed to ten or twenty years ago.  This is a new generation.  Modern writing is emotive.  It’s harsh.  It’s more clever than soothing.  Many of us in the Y-Generation used to read for education but we relaxed by watching cartoons and flame-warring on message boards.  The language of script writing has always been, historically speaking, punchy and aggressive.  That’s probably why people who love movies enjoy my writing.  It feels like a cartoon or a live-action play, rather than a traditional novel.

Q: You cite Susan Harris and the sitcom Soap as one of your main influences.  Why go for laughs when most novels are about deep introspection and high drama?

A: I think a lot of writers are so keen on following rules of serious literature, they forget the essence of human storytelling.  It’s about conflict.  It’s about keeping your sense of humor, even in the darkest of times.  It’s holding the audience’s imagination hostage with a glimpse into another world.   Maybe that world is Hell, but it’s always interesting.  I really don’t think any show has ever matched Soap’s tone either, at least as far as telling a dramatic story in an exaggerated and funny way.  All in the Family was realistic comedy.  Soap was surreal and yet emotionally brutal.  I was inspired a lot by that. The Maxx was another influence.  It was tragedy written in quirky comic book speak language. Fusion literature.

Q: With your trilogy of books you do just that, fuse together “serious literature” with juvenile profanity and sarcasm.  You’ve described it as social commentary that the South Park generation can appreciate.  Yet, whereas cartoon shows have a “nothing sacred” collection of barbs, you insist on adding scenes of such unrelenting depression and tragedy in between sitcom-like scenes.  You tell the audience it’s time to laugh, only to leave them in tears.

A: Yes, it may come from the fact that I’m a depressive.  Or it could be that I simply have a great desire to write literature but in a brand new comedic voice.  Some of my darkest creative influences come from the distant past.  Our Town, Death of a Salesman, Animal Farm and the original Brothers Grimm.  This is what’s shaping my world.  And I don’t believe in going all Stephen King on you and describing the grass for 50 pages.  It’s happening in real time, at least in my mind it is.

Q: Is the book for younger readers?  Or does it target more sophisticated readers over the age of 40?

A: Older readers immediately catch onto the social satire.  But younger readers will like it regardless of whether they understand what every allegorical character represents.  We’re not giving the younger generation enough credit.  Sure, there are many that don’t read.  But the ones that do are eager to read something new.  The millennial generation doesn’t want clichés, formulaic plots and predictable Harlequin romance.  If you actually read modern fanfiction on the Internet, some of it is very bleak and bizarre stuff.  This is what younger crowds enjoy.  Something they’ve never seen before, something their parents have never seen before.

Q: You’ve written a War and Peace-sized trilogy of books written for short-attention span audiences of today.  If the objective is to appeal to short attention spans, why make the series so long?

A: Everybody loves an ongoing story.  It just takes some planning to make it accessible.  If our goal as modern and influential storytellers is to build franchises, then we’re actually writing books to read for people who hate reading.  The challenge is in hooking them with strong imagery, with comedy, and with easy flowing contemporary language.

Q: You made these books as ADHD-friendly as modern writing can get, with scenes of intense emotional brutality, obscene limericks posing as faux Disney-songs, over the top descriptions of sex and violence, and as many references to illegal drugs as you could fit into a PG-13 rated book.

A: Yes the mock of Disney is intentional.  It’s a mask of a family friendly G-rated book, a tongue in cheek sort of thing.  In actuality it’s a horrific satire of man’s violent nature.  It does feel as if “you’re there”, because the prose relies on hypnotic suggestion, which I’ve also studied for quite some time.  And in scenes of brutality, yes, that’s harrowing to read.  But we imagine ourselves in this hypothetical world, experiencing a new life.  And yes, if your imagination is vivid, sometimes that world is uncomfortable.  It’s an experience you’ll never forget.

Q: You’re having far too much fun trolling the literary world.

A: I think we as new age authors have a responsibility to save writing, to keep the art of it alive.  I have no interest in making movies.  My heart is in writing and always will be.  But that doesn’t mean I will deny my readers of the full cinematic experience that the movies give them.  If the worst they say about my book is that it’s a series of books for people that hate reading, then I’ll take that as a compliment.  If the second worst thing they can say about me is that I troll the literary world, that’s a fascinating compliment and I’ll take that too.

A:Now that the NSA and FBI have been alerted with carefully chosen keywords, let's talk about what "terrorism" means.

MW: Terrorism is defined as the use of violence and intimidation in the pursuit of political aims.
That's a broad definition and one that encompasses the State as well as the Revolution. We identify terrorists as such because we cannot bear to describe our "enemy" as merely another group of soldiers. We cannot imagine our own country as one that uses violence or intimidation to ensure their political aims.

We outgrew the term "commie" because we saw the fall of the Soviet Union, and though there is a renaissance of Russian-hate building again, most people will not accept another war that has already come and gone.

Now it's time for companies / countries to re-brand the marketing. "Enemy" is such an empty word and it makes people think too hard about who is actually good and who is evil. "Terrorist" is a much easier word to accept because it is implied that terrorists are without souls, without conscience or compassion, and that they do cruel and sickening things to innocent people.

But if you take away the label of terrorist and describe a Good Christian who is willing to die for Jesus, or a Good Soldier who is willing to die for his country, you have something wonderful and inspirational.

The State not only takes on the actions of terrorists by using violence against innocent civilians (called Imperialism when it's the wealthy attacking the poor) but sometimes they can actually help promote other terrorist entrepreneurs as a means of distraction. Whether it's funding "terrorist" groups overseas or creating fictitious terrorist threats, or inadvertently creating vengeful monsters out of the remains of broken people. Sexy, if it's someone like Sylvester Stallone or Arnold Schwarzenegger looking for patriotic revenge - disgusting if it's a dark skinned man speaking Arabic, fighting for the vengeance of his dead child.

The people of the French Revolution, rebelling against the rich and elite were the terrorists of their day. Witches, who resisted the teachings of Protestant and Catholic religions were something to be abhorred, even more disgusting than terrorists - they were heathens, orgiasts, baby killers and Satanic vessels, deserving of nothing but rape and death.  Even in modern terms, mankind has used words like "Savages" to describe Native Americans or African Americans - because they were the "enemy" that threatened our own lives, our selfish expansion of culture.

"Witches Are Terrorists"

Everybody loves a hero and despises a villain because that's what evokes emotion and emotion incites war.

In my book, "The End of the Magical Kingdom", witches are terrorists or "horrorists", as the civilized world calls them. Some are merely labeled that way because they are enemies of the state. Others are self-identified because their mission is to overthrow the government and start a new change - the very thing Trump supporters wanted months ago, and now the very thing Hillary followers crave more than anything.

The point being that to describe something as less than human, as something as disgusting and soulless as an animal (er, except dogs and cats, because they don't deserve the death and torture that cows and pigs are subject to because of their immoral lifestyles) is to justify the most vile and exploitative behavior we are capable of - to show us the harrowing mob justice mankind dispenses, once he is driven into an emotional stampede.

Terrorists are not human. They are witches, they are roaches, they are evil, and they are godless (or they don't believe in Science like we believe in Science). They are stupid, they are unworthy of procreation, they deserve imprisonment, they deserve disease, old age and suffering.

The easy route is to declare all terrorists, and anyone that disagrees with the government, as a threat to national security.  To stamp them out, to cleanse the human race, and to destroy their families while we're at it.  The more challenging route, the more "evil" and unpatriotic thing to do, is to try to determine how to end the war - how to negotiate a compromise that can bring some stability, not just to one region, but well beyond the borders.  It is the very thing that politicians promise to do and a higher standard we should continue to uphold.

But yes, to call a terrorist "sexy" is a very tasteless thing to do.

Cry On Cue for Idiots, Curated, 2016

Mitchell Warren and Floren Felvturn's Cry On Cue is awaiting its publication in December 2004. This tale of two antiheroes forced to take court-ordered therapy because of self-destructive sexual behavior is a remarkable story of easy British tarts, faithfulness, lying bastards who claim they're in love with you, the futility of life, anti chick-lit satire and hamsters. The story of Floren Felvturn and Paula Brakken, the strange men in their lives, and their prudish, utterly humorless doctors, reflect the complexity of the unmedicated and loony female mind and more importantly the instinctive madness that affects all of humanity.

However, the average reader has never heard of Misses Floren’s Opus. Laden with absurd literary references and ridden with inexplicable sexual analogies, the book's reputation as a "chick-lit" satire is certainly standing strong. This is a shame because the ruttish Floren thinks very highly of both male and female readers who mean so much more to her than just mainstream sex toys for her general amusement. Therefore, since our Attempted Rapture For Idiots page was so popular last time around--together with the fact that From Hunger's Ulysses For Dummies parody creator hasn’t threatened us with a lawsuit—we've decided to present an exclusive "For Idiots" explanation of the highly experimental novel.

So join us as a rather egregiously drawn Floren introduces the lesson...

“Hello, I am Floren Felvturn. If you are
a gimboid or lacking in mental prowess,
you may need big words and simple
pictures to really understand something.
So listen up, Herbert. Here goes.”

Cry on Cue for Idiots

This is Floren Felvturn.


This is Floren propositioning total strangers.


This is Paula Brakken and her precocious daughter Taffy.

This is Paula being an unfit mother.

This is Doctor Lamron and Doctor Rateur.
Their patients have been court ordered to undergo therapy.

This is Floren and Paula not taking the news so well.

This is a hamster. 

This is a hamster's privacy being invaded.


One guy doesn't get it. The other does.

This ends Cry On Cue For Idiots. On behalf of all
of us here at The Late Mitchell Warren Museum we
urge you to chillax, bat on a sticky wicket, and remember:
It's Just A Story.
Or is it?
Yes it is.

Happily Ever After

I haven't been very active on Facebook lately, nor on any other social media sites the last few months. Or frankly, th...