On May 2nd of 2010 I began production on a short film called Scratcher, starring St. Louis icon, Bob Reuter. Despite a superb performance from Bob, and admirable work from everyone else involved, especially my producer Jon Feraro, the film just didn’t come together the way we had hoped. I take full responsibility for the film’s failure. Hopefully in the future something can be made of the footage shot.

On July 13th of 2010 I shot the silent horror short Strumpet in the Lemp Mansion for 17 consecutive hours, working with the finest crew I’ve ever had the privilege of working with. Post-production ended in August of 2011 and screened August 17th at the Tivoli Theater for the St. Louis Filmmaker’s Showcase, and was awarded Best Use of Black and White. It screened again at the Flyway Film Festival in Lake Pepin, Wisconsin on October 20th and at the St. Louis International Film Festival in November. 

A handful of short film ideas were on the table, but I feel like it’s time to move on from short films. They’ve honed my craft, forced me to evolve as an artist, and were much fun. In the end they leave me wanting, and with little to show. A few months ago I agreed to produce a short film for a close friend. The combination of the personalities involved bred such hostility, it left me in a state of depression so unbearable, I came close to throwing in the towel completely and never making another film. The moment I knew that I was going to leave the project, a fog lifted and everything became clear. I haven’t made a feature film since Surviving Dirk in 2003. Granted, that wasn’t my finest moment, but it was an ambitious concept and project; a noble failure, to be sure. I feel it’s time to take the combined lessons and experience taken from all of my work and channel them into a 3rd feature film. Dan Probst and I are currently working on the screenplay, with tentative plans for shooting in 2013. I won’t say much about it, only that it plays within the horror genre, and we’re almost certain it hasn’t been done before. 

Okay, now that we’re all current, here’s the real reason I’m posting this:

It’s been three years since my first novella, Alchemy Rum was released. Well, a second one is on its way, to be released late 2012. The reason it took so long to churn out another book is, well…releasing just another paperback book sounded boring to me. Writing it was a bore too. That’s why I shelved it until recently. If I was going to write and release a follow-up, it had to be something bizarre and innovative; a culmination of everything that I am and that I do. So I teamed up with mixed media artist and musician Max Iver to do just that. Read the official press release HERE and keep your eyes peeled. Much news and updates coming! 

Over and out!

When my best friend Stephen J. Heffernan (Cannibal, Amphetamine) told me his birthday party was going to be a Roast and charity event for Cerebral Palsy, and would I speak, I really didn’t hesitate. I didn’t even consider my anxieties until later, after the speech was written, and I was feeling tremendously clever. I guess I kept imagining the event filled with chimpanzees and Heffernan laughing, laughing, laughing at our combined wit. Wolfgang plus chimps is a deadly amusing combo. I don’t know where that comes from. Whenever I picture myself speaking to crowds, it’s nothing but chimps, with the occasional spider monkey thrown in for diversity. With that said, if you plan on coming, it would mean a lot to me if you made a lot of nonsensical noises and hurled poop at me during my speech. Thanks.

Anyway, back to my point: I’m going against every natural impulse in the name of friendship. This is the kind of schmuck I really am. But hey, it’s for a good cause, right? You’re goddamn right it is! And not only that, there’s a shit ton of prizes and awesomeness to be won and bid on:

Moonrise Hotel – Suite for two

Millennium Hotel – Suite for two

Hampton Inn – Suite for two

Lemp Mansion – Suite for two

4 Cardinals tix in the Champions Club w/ food and drinks

Flamingo Bowl party for ten

Pageant concert vouchers

Feraro’s Pizza in Soulard – Private Monday Night party for ten with chef Jon Feraro

Artist/Photographer prints by Aunia Kahn, Bob Reuter, Melissa Schramm and two of mine.

50/50 Prizes

Feraro’s Pizza – $50, Llywelyn’s – $50, Flannery’s – $25, City Diner – $25, Hammerstones – $25, Tucker’s – $25, McGurk’s – $25, Joanie’s – $25, Johnny’s – $25, Mangia – $20, The Porch – $20

Phew! That was a lot to type. So, as you can see, those prizes are pretty amazing. And so is the entire event. The place is going to be overflowing with incredible people, artists, filmmakers, photographers, comedians, writers, musicians, and other assorted rabble. Even if you don’t know Stephen J. Heffernan, you’ll definitely have fun at his expense, get to mingle with some misfits, and make a difference in someone’s life all in the same night. I hope to see you there. Don’t hesitate to come up and say hello.

For more information on the Stephen J. Heffernan Roast to benefit Cerebral Palsy click here and join the event this Saturday at the Lemp Grand Hall!

Two days later I got the call: Jon had secured the location and we had to shoot in a little over a month. I was shocked, amazed, and mortified. Don’t get me wrong, I was impressed with what Jon had accomplished. The guy gets shit done. But sometimes his ambition exceeds my creative energy. First off, that date needed to change. I was currently in the final stages of post-production on my short film Psychological Sample (screening at the Tivoli on July 21^st as part of the St. Louis Filmmaker’s Showcase!) and had just sat down to work on Scratcher. The thought of being in double post-production and pre-production didn’t appeal to me, or my neurosis. After a few minor arguments, we immediately set up a meeting with the owner of the location. We hesitantly broached the subject of delaying the film a month, fearing some sort of irrational backlash. To our surprise, this was met with an apathetic shrug. It didn’t matter to him as long as he got paid and we were careful. We had a deal. The next day I postponed post-production on Scratcher and began writing the first draft of this upcoming short film. Yes, that’s right! I hadn’t even written it yet.

I think two paragraphs are enough of a lead-in on this big secret, don’t you think? I hope I haven’t built it up too much. Oh well. Here it goes: On July 13^th I’ll be shooting a silent gothic horror film – complete with title cards – inside the Lemp Mansion. It’s the story of a naïve Lodger, a sinister Innkeeper, and a mysterious Woman. I call it Strumpet. The film stars Stephen J. Heffernan (Cannibal, Amphetamine), “The Reverend” Brian McDowell, and Emily Brown (aka Pandora Genocide). The rest of our crew is pretty amazing too. This is one of the biggest, most professional projects I’ve ever had the pleasure of working on. It has to be! I only have fourteen hours or less to shoot it.

Cameras roll in less than two weeks. All the last minute details are being smoothed over, crew is secure, the script is done and the whole film is inside my head. I can see every shot clear as day. I’m panicked and my heart is pounding with excitement. This is the kind of film I’ve always wanted to make. And the fact that I’m making it inside one of the most “haunted” places in America is just the icing on the cake. This is going to be one the most interesting nights of my life.

A few months later, while attending the St. Louis International Film Festival, I ran into Jon Feraro, looking gloomy. We had a brief chat, and the subject of our failed film (later titled Scratcher) came up. I had assumed the project moved forward without me. To my surprise I found that there had been no movement, and the writer previously attached had left the project. I confessed that I still had it in the back of mind; a collection of beautiful images stored away, with no other story that could bring them to life. This tale of grief, addiction, and loneliness had touched something inside of me. It had become personal. I had to tell this story. So it was agreed that we should move forward on our own.

I wrote a first draft in a matter of weeks, and over a period of months the story came together to both our satisfaction. In the meantime, we cast local musician/photographer Bob Reuter in the lead, playing a broken widower addicted to playing the lottery. I had met Bob earlier that year and we immediately hit it off. He’s one of the truest characters I’ve ever known. And that’s what I’m always looking for: characters. Equal parts inspiration and cautionary tale. The casting was followed up with the amazing artist Cindy Royal and Lindenwood theatre sprite Beth Graveman. With Jon Feraro stepping in for a small role, the entire cast was complete. We were all set to move into heavy pre-production, location scouting, hiring crew, the usual budgetary malarkey, etc. But it was now January, and winter had come down like a frozen anvil.

After a long debate, it was decided to postpone shooting out of concern for the cast and crew(something I had never done before), since a majority of our scenes were exterior. With that, Scratcher was bumped to early April and pre-production immediately began on a script that had been collecting dust for over a year: Psychological Sample. But Scratcher had to be postponed once more, since the stress of post-production on Psychological Sample, coupled with the chaos of pre-production on Scratcher was stretching me too thin, and I knew that one of the films would suffer, namely Scratcher. My head was somewhere else. Scratcher was set for May 2^nd, giving me room to breathe.

It is now May 1^st. Production begins tomorrow. Although I am still in post-production on Psychological Sample, we’re in the final stages that don’t require all of my immediate attention. It’s coming together very nicely. I’m grateful that we’re shooting tomorrow, rather than February. Since then Jon and I formed a tighter producer/director partnership, we’ve worked with some amazing crew, and developed a vision for what we want to accomplish in the coming months, and year to come. But most importantly, I’ve reignited a fire inside of myself that was almost reduced to cold ash. I was lost and fragmented for so long, wandering, and wondering: What am I? A writer? Photographer? Am I some kind of hybrid outsider artist without any clear direction, or just a filmmaker? It doesn’t matter. At my core is a storyteller, pure and simple. The only variation is with which canvas I use to tell that story.

As Psychological Sample barrels through post production, I’ve jumped immediately back into pre production on a film I had postponed months earlier, Scratcher; a silent film about addiction and grief, starring photographer/musician Bob Reuter. I’m tinkering with the script again, updating the budget, and finalizing the shooting schedule. The tentative plan is to start shooting on April 11^th, for three or four days spread out during the month. It’s all up in the air at the moment. Speaking of ‘Up In The Air’, my pal Kevin Renick – who had his song featured in the closing credits of the Clooney film – may be providing the same for my film. No deal is in place, but we’re pretty excited about the possibilities. Scratcher is a very personal film for producer Jon Feraro as well as myself, so to have Renick – the man who first interviewed me for a publication, and has always been supportive – involved is a real boon for the film.

I’ve also been busy submitting my previous short Fate Accompli to film festivals, and planning out future projects with producer Feraro, including a spooky silent film in an unbelievable location, a psychological mystery to be directed by Jon Feraro himself, as well as a possible third feature film (Cannibal and Surviving Dirk being the first two of mine) down the road. It’s going to be an interesting year.

Before I go I want to remind you all that my book Alchemy Rum has a special going until March 22^nd: Free shipping when you use the promo code: WESHIP. This includes the first edition as well as The Poor Man’s Edition, but not the Limited Collector’s Edition. You get all that?

First I want to thank everyone who watched my short film Fate Accompli, during its week long run on YouTube, especially to those who commented and shared it with others. The response was overwhelmingly positive, and gave me a lot of confidence going into the festival submission phase of the production. This isn’t an area where I’ve had a lot of success, and I’m looking to change that this year, and farther on down the road.

The plan this month was to shoot a silent short film called Scratcher, starring musician/photographer Bob Reuter. The roles were 99% cast, the budget was finalized and location scouting was about to begin. But producer Jon Feraro and myself agreed that, due to the amount of exterior scenes, and our tumultuous winter weather, we were headed for a miserable shoot that could have proven dangerous to our cast and crew. Nevertheless, the film will be made and everyone involved is excited about it. But it looks like it will be moved to either March or April.

The good news is that I won’t be standing still for very long. On February 20^th and 21^st I’ll be shooting a short film called Psychological Sample. It’s a dark comedy about the nightmare of bureaucracy. The concept started with a short story by Dan Probst and I adapted it for the screen as soon as the delay of Scratcher left a void. The film will star Dan Probst (Surviving Dirk, Game of the Year) and producer/actor Jon Feraro. I have no idea how it’s going to turn out, but I can guarantee it will be one strange paranoid fantasy.

There are other projects in the works, but some I can’t talk about, or are still being formed. I’ve been hankering to get out and do some photography, and experiment with my new Holga, but the weather – and the entire season as a whole – drains the motivation. I do, however, have something in the works for my book Alchemy Rum – which is available through my website – coming down the pike; sort of a gift set thing. Still trying to work out all the details, though.

Stay tuned!

Months of post production work began; from Jenn Powers’ meticulously crafted score, to Josh Mahler’s obsessive compulsive sound design work, and finally Stephen J. Heffernan’s sublime voice over recording. This all for a seven and a half minute short I shot in one day and edited in one week. I’d say it was a whole lot for too little if the film didn’t please me so much. In fact, I’m in love with the little film. It’s a very personal work. And if no one else gets it, I will still be proud and it will all be worthwhile. This is how things usually go anyways. So, I’ve had some practice.

On January 1^st I will release the film online for everyone to view…for one week only. After that I will remove it and begin submitting it to festivals across the country, and possibly abroad. After my experience with my last feature film Surviving Dirk, I swore off the festival circuit for good. There were many deciding factors, but the main problem was the rejection and animosity toward my work, as well as my methodology. Since I’m working with a new producer now, and we have three films coming down the pike, I figured now would be a good time to get reacquainted with the system, for better or worse.

Thanks for your support and interest. Be sure to check out the film on New Years day.

View Fate Accompli Here

That’s right, for the entire month of December my novel Alchemy Rum is having its prices slashed, violently! The first edition of Alchemy Rum: short fiction & The Graveyard Noir is now $14.99, down from $16.99! That’s two whole dollars! But wait, it gets better: the signed Limited Edition (only 100 in existence) of Alchemy Rum is now $29.99, down from $39.99! That’s ten dollars! These aren’t prices to sneeze at, folks. With that kind of money left over you could even purchase the Kindle Edition, just in case you’re stranded in Cleveland and left your hard copy on the back of the toilet at home. I’m just thinking ahead here, folks. Lookin’ out for ya!

So don’t forget: this sale lasts the entire month of December, no exceptions. So hurry the hell up, time is slip, slip, slipping into the future as we speak.

Purchase Alchemy Rum HERE

First, let me say thanks to all of you who purchased or promoted my book Alchemy Rum. It’s only been one week – without in-store sales, only web – and the numbers are better than expected. If this keeps up, I’ll probably get a green light on my second novel. With any luck it could possibly be published this time next year. But I don’t want to get ahead of myself. I’ll conclude this with a small favor: if you bought the book – or plan to soon – and enjoyed it, please recommend it to someone who enjoys dark, macabre fiction. Word of mouth is about all the marketing this book can afford.

Second, the short film I’ve been working on since late summer, Fate Accompli, is nearing the end of post-production. The obsessive-compulsive perfectionist, Jenn Powers, has delivered her final music score, and we should be heading into the studio with sound designer Josh Mahler for a final mix. Then it’s time to play the festival circuit, after an eight-year hiatus. I’m anticipating a more positive experience this time, as I intend to avoid ninety-nine percent of American film festivals. I don’t go over so well in this country.

Third, I’m in the process of developing/writing three short films with producer Jon Feraro; my long in development hitman piece Button Man; a silent film about grief and addiction called Scratcher, and a third, as-yet-undetermined story. The next six months are going to be jam-packed full of awesome. Now let’s hope I don’t screw it all up, simply by being myself.

Terminal Jack

A fountain of congealed blood splatters the bathtub and splashes up onto the wall. On his knees, Jack bends over and ejects a second storm of gore, this one thicker than the last, with inexplicable chunks and unidentified matter strewn about the porcelain in a pattern of expressionistic horror. Dry heaves follow and the veins in his temple show themselves as a bead of sweat travels down and bursts on the basin. Having properly purged – to his knowledge – Jack leans against the tub and pants loudly. His face and chest are stained and wet. He presses his clammy cheek to the cold tub and groans with reprieve.

Jack douses himself in cold water and gasps. He runs the shower, letting the blood wash away and swirl down the drain. He dabs the shower spray onto his stained chest and stomach. Moments later he finds himself standing in the threshold of the motel bathroom, staring at an empty bed; both sides empty and disheveled. Jack sits on the springy mattress and lays his palm down on the imprint of a woman’s body left in the sheets like a calling card.

Jack lay watching her sleep, mentally replaying the events of the last few hours. His eyes roll over her shoulders and down to the perfect curve of the small of her back, dancing up to her, faultless, delicious backside. How did this happen?

It’s cold now, he thinks. But so was she. Now she’s gone, and I can’t help but wonder why it tugs at me inside. I never even knew her name. We were there for each other and nothing else needed to be said. Not like she said much of anything. Her bottomless eyes said all that needed to be. It was an amazing night, nothing more.

Jack lights a cigarette and stares forlornly down at the ghostly shape. He drags hard and thinks.

Yet, something…

Jack falls to his knees before the bed and lays his head down in her abandoned place of slumber. He inhales deep, taking in her lingering scent.

Seated at the bar, Jack pops a cigarette in his mouth. A long alabaster arm reaches in and ignites a flame from a golden lighter. The fire brushes against the tip of the cigarette, almost as an afterthought. The tobacco glows red and Jack pulls the smoke in, glancing beside him to a striking creature dressed in black; skin so white you want to avert your eyes. But you can’t. Not when her eyes meet yours. Eyes locked, she puts her icy hand on his. It was over from there.

Something went wrong, he says to himself. I let myself feel something I shouldn’t have. She was different from my usual. Though a considerable upgrade in the looks department, it wasn’t just that. It was something primal, something better left unsaid in the dark. She tapped into something inside of me, in my blood…

Jack stubs his cigarette out and looks into the shadows.

Blood.

A moment later Jack is standing over the clotted remains of his gory vomit caked to the rim of the tub.

She did something to me.

Jack pulls the shower curtain closed and leaves the room. He paces in the darkness, smoking, in a near panic of which he can barely articulate. Jack doubles over and claws at his gut clumsily, unsure of the exact point of despair. A grinding pain is coursing through his anatomy. Faint, he braces himself against the wall and emits a moan of a newly discovered, incomprehensible agony. Like some organic engine sputtering, a regurgitation of blood shoots noisily from his throat and from his mouth like a schizophrenic cough. Jack looks down at the Rorschach of clotted plasma, knowing it contains vital answers. But before he can ask the questions, the world goes dark and unconsciousness takes him out of the game for his own safety.

Jack sits on the edge of the motel bed holding a half pint of Southern Comfort. He sways gently to a rhythm known only to him. She stands before the window cloaked in a darkness that comes only natural to her. Halogen luminescence backlights her through the dusty window blinds. She slowly unzips her dress and it slides down her sinister curves and hits the floor, proud of what it now beholds. Clad only in her black lace undergarments, she casually lights a cigarette, momentarily illuminating her unpredictable features. Jack takes a swig of courage and swallows hard. All of his dreams are about to come true.

What Jack wakes up to is not a dream. It is pure nightmare. And soon he will realize that it may last forever.