It’s amazing how quickly my life shifted from the break-neck pace of “figure out what the hell is wrong with me” to the post diagnosis frantic rush of “kill it with fire.” On the heels of a both a bone marrow and lymph node biopsy I was now going to have a port implanted into my chest. That’s 3 medical procedures, two of which involved twilight anesthetic, within the span of less than 20 days.  In between all the slicing and dicing my days were littered with doctor’s visits, surgical consultations, and phone calls tracking down the various test results.

I was on over-drive trying to keep my head above water after being thrown into the deep end of the cancer pool. There was never a moment to reflect on what was happening to me or how I felt about it. All I could do was go through the motions as the events unfolded around me. When my first chemotherapy session was scheduled I didn’t have time for questions or even fear. It was just another step in the marathon I was blindly running through.

Hotel California

My first chemo session was the day after my port surgery which sadly landed on February 14th. Definitely a buzz kill. My surgeon had assured me that the port was safe to use soon after its installation, going as far to say that I could have used it the very same day it went in. Call me old fashioned, but I was glad that at least 24 hours had passed before they started pumping poison directly into my heart. Going to a hospital for my first chemo didn’t raise any red flags because honestly I assumed that’s how the process started. In hindsight maybe I should have raised my hand and asked a question.

The room they put me in was nice enough by hospital standards. My expectation, and that of the nurses setting me up, was that I’d go through my chemo in less than a day and then be released back into the wild. Fun fact about chemo, it’s poison in a bag that’s shot into your veins to destroy cancer cells (and the occasional healthy cells that get in the way). Let me re-iterate, it’s basically poison and even though its purpose is to cure you of your cancer there are some nasty side effects that come along for the ride. I’m not talking about the usual nausea or hair loss, but the drug specific ones depending on the cocktail they’ve mixed for you.  Steroids and other lovely substances were thrown into my breakfast blend, but the Billy Badass drug that was specially geared for my flavor of cancer was Rituxan. That sucker opened a can of whoop ass on my cancer cells. The only problem was that its side effects were severe on a good day and downright scary when it really didn’t like you.

Shit Hits the Fan

The chemo cocktail is put together by your oncologist based on the type of cancer you’re fighting with additional drugs thrown in to make the treatment more easily accepted by your body like steroids and antihistamines.  As scientific as this sounds there’s still a lot of guesswork involved such as what order to administer the drugs in and how quickly to pump them into your veins.

The prep drugs were shot into me first (‘roids and Benadryl) to smooth the way and completed without incident.  Then the aforementioned Billy Badass, Rituxan, was hooked up to my IV.  They started with a 50ml push and after a while kicked it up to 100ml.  3 minutes after they upped the dosage my body temperature felt like it had dropped 30 degrees.  Then I started convulsing.  This wasn’t a “bite your tongue” seizure, but an equally painful and uncontrollable shaking known as Rigors.

Every single muscle in my body clenched with the effort of an Olympic power lifter while my teeth chattered like a wind-up toy.  My body immediately curled into itself and I was unable to straighten myself out.  The nurses, wild-eyed young things reeking of fear, threw blankets on top of me thinking it would help.  They tried putting a heart rate monitor on my fingertip, but I couldn’t open my hands and they couldn’t pry my fingers apart.  When it was finally attached I just watched as the numbers climbed… 150, 160, 170.  My bed was surrounded by 5 nurses, all staring at me, as I flexed my jaw as hard as I could to keep my teeth from breaking on impact.  I pleaded with them to help me through strained words that struggled past grinding teeth and by pouring my eyes into theirs, hoping they could read the thoughts frantically racing behind them.

One of them tried to hold me, but I rocked her like a mechanical bull.  The others stood paralyzed.  I honestly don’t know if I even registered as a human being to some of them instead playing out like a live action snuff film.  The one sentence I remember being able to get out, over and over again, was “call my wife… call my wife.”  The nurses assured me everything would be fine, but even in my state I could smell their bullshit.  I was paralyzed with the fear that this would end me and I wouldn’t be able to see Ra one last time.  They didn’t call and I was incapable of dialing a phone, so I continued shaking while they scrambled about like the Keystone Kops.

I don’t know how long the entire episode lasted, but Ra did walk into the room, having already been on her way to the hospital, to find me in the thick of it.  She moved the nurse I had bucked off earlier aside and held me as tightly as she could.  For the first time since the Rigors started my body slowed its shaking.  If that’s not proof I was meant to be Ra’s I don’t know what is because my girl’s touch was a comfort unlike any I had ever felt before.

The lead nurse, aptly named Grace, was the only one to keep any semblance of sanity during the entire ordeal.  She cut off the Rituxan and pushed delicious pain-killers, I think Demerol, into my twitching body.  Between Ra and the narcotics my heart finally started to slow down even though the muscles still fiercely spasmed.  At some point I was able to uncoil my body.  After that I just focused on breathing.  The doctors later informed us that my rigors were a well known side effect of Rituxan.  I’m glad they knew, but it would have been real fucking helpful if the nurses and I had been let in on the secret.

And with that my one day of chemo suddenly transformed into a full-fledged hospitalization.  I wish I could tell you that this was the worst of it, but the week that followed will forever go down as the worst of my entire existence.

Part two of this lovely tale will delve into the joys of hospitalization, fun with drug interactions, and further proof of the axiom “not all nurses are created equally.”  Hit me up in the comments or on Twitter @gabrielnovo if you like.  I can’t be the only person to have experienced this level of insanity.  You can also have these nuggets of joy delivered directly to your inbox or share them with a friend using the buttons below.

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On April 17th, 2012 I saw my 100th film of the year.  It was a flick from the early 90′s called Blink which starred Madeleine Stowe and Aidan Quinn.  To be honest, this was not what I had in mind for my 100th film.  For a milestone of this caliber I was searching for a unique film, like The Extraordinary Adventures of Adele Blanc-Sec , or an old favorite which I hadn’t dusted off in a long time like Time Bandits.  Hell, there was an entire batch of interesting movies I had short-listed for the big 100: Hysteria, Shame, Tideland, The Skin I Live In, The Fall, just to name a few.

Instead I got sucked into late night TV channel roulette and landed on HBO which had the always stunning Madeleine Stowe undergoing some sort of eye surgery.  I quickly found out she was a blind musician who could now see thanks to the corneas a dead woman.  Being a sucker for these kind of movies (Body Parts is a guilty pleasure) I had to see the whole thing through.  It wasn’t the best flick I had ever watched, but I have a soft spot for the two leads and seeing Stowe in her birthday suit didn’t hurt either.

There were at least two things I really enjoyed about the film.  One was the gritty 80′s feel which movies in the early 90′s still dripped with and the other was an unexpected quote from Longfellow said by Aidan Quinn; "For the soul is dead that slumbers, / And things are not what they seem."  I didn’t expect something like that in this film and oddly enough it struck a nerve.  This won’t be a DVD in my collection or even worth a repeat viewing, but I did like the little quirks in the tale and Stowe’s quiet intensity.  For a 100th film it was anti-climactic yet oddly comforting like an old sweater.

Flicks

Since we’re on the topic of movies I might as well go over March’s details and statistics.  For the first quarter of the year March was hands down the winner when it came to number of movies.  I watched 37 films in the span of 31 days (1.19 movies/day).  One two separate occasions I saw FOUR movies in a single day.  In the table below I listed the movies in alphabetical order, starting at the top of column one and going down from there.  Movies seen more than once in the month have a multiplier denoting the number of times next to the title.  Special editions are also noted in the same manner.

Genres

Comedies outnumbered the rest by a large margin continuing February’s trend. 6 of them were comedian specials doubling last month’s count. I had been hearing clips from the Queens of Comedy for years now, but the movie itself was a bitch to track down. It was worth finally seeing instead of hearing just to experience Mo’Nique’s foul-mouthed, giggle laced routine. Get Him To The Greek is one of those films that no matter how many times I’d seen it if it’s on TV I have to see it again.  There’s this infectious sense of fun throughout the entire film that constantly pulls me in.

Stats

• Total Minutes Watched: 4107
• Total Hours Watched: 68.45
• Longest Film: 159 minutes (Harry Potter & the Sorcerer’s Stone: Extended Edition)
• Shortest Film: TIE @ 72 minutes (Kevin Hart: Seriously Funny; Kevin Hart: I’m a Grown Little Man)
• Overall Average Film Length: 111 minutes or 1.85 hours
• Oldest Film: Looker (1981)
• Favorite Film: Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2011)
• Worst Film: Looker (1981)
• Repeat Offenders: Secretary (3 months in a row), Get Him To The Greek & Shawshank Redemption (within the month of March)

Tweaks

What are your thoughts on my one year of movies?  Am I wasting my life away or not diving deep enough into my passion.  Also, if you’re running this little experiment at home let me know how it’s coming along in the comments or shoot me a tweet @gabrielnovo.  If you enjoy these articles then feel free to have them delivered directly to your inbox or share them with a friend using the buttons below.

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2012 began for me in the same way I believe it began for most people; with the hope that it would be better than the year before and the nagging suspicion that it probably wouldn’t.  My own suspicion was confirmed far earlier than I would have liked it.  In the height of my New Year’s Eve revelry I decided that doing a headstand would be the best way to celebrate another year in the dust.  Of course I completely ignored the fact that I’m a slightly out of shape IT consultant and much older than I think I am.  As my ill-conceived head stand began to wobble I compounded my idiocy by attempting to correct it using my rippling abdominal muscles (which are completely imaginary).  Shooting pain through my back’s entire muscular system along with a healthy dose of throbbing pain in my abs quickly proved to me why this had never been a good idea.  Being the bull headed-male I often am, I took a muscle relaxer, some pain killers, and called it a night.

The next morning my back and stomach didn’t waste any time reminding me of the previous night’s stupidity.  I chalked it up to an older body not healing as quickly as it used to and continued with my day.  Luckily I didn’t have to fly that week, so my body was able to recuperate a bit, but I still found my stomach area (most notably the left side of my diaphragm right under the ribs) to be tender and slightly swollen.  The next week I had to fly out to a client site, on a regional jet, which is just as uncomfortable as a regular jet only smaller.  I kept up my diet of painkillers and muscle relaxers (a frequent flier’s magic recipe) which helped me get through the hassles of travel.  On my return home I found that same stomach area to be just as swollen as when I first hurt it with the pain increasing instead of fading.  At this point I couldn’t ignore it any longer and finally scheduled a doctor’s visit.

OUCH

Nothing is more fun than retelling the tale of how you foolishly injured yourself before the new year could even get started.  My Doc got a chuckle out of it and then commenced with the poking and prodding his profession is famous for.  When he got to the swollen area of my stomach he was a little concerned.  He cautiously agreed with my pulled muscle assessment, but thought there might be blood pooling underneath it from a small tear.  A CAT scan was immediately recommended.  Just to make sure he had another doctor in the office give me a once over.  The second doctor was even more concerned than the first and went so far as to suggest it could be my spleen.  The CAT scan was unanimous and I was scheduled for one the day after next.

CAT scans, in and of themselves, are not horrible.  However, the iodine mixture that they need to inject into your body for the proper picture is downright ghastly.  The side effects are miserable, ranging from nausea (which I had in buckets) to an intense warmth that feels like your insides are cooking (had that too, especially in the crotch area….weird).  I’m glad we got the image in one take because I spent the next 15 minutes trying not to puke all over the kind technician’s shoes.  Still a little woozy and filled up to my eyeballs with iodine I drove from the hospital directly over to my doctor’s office for the post CAT scan meeting.

Here’s where the fun started.  The muscle that I thought had been pulled was actually my spleen.  Not only was my spleen visible, when it should never be felt outside of the ribcage as per the image on the right, but it had swollen down almost to my navel.  One thing I failed to mention earlier in this post is that while traveling for work I was trying to lose weight (gotta stick to those New Year’s resolutions).  I was more successful than usual yet attributed it to my newly found willpower.  My doctor informed me that the 20 lbs. I had lost (I didn’t even notice it had been that severe) was actually due to the spleen eating up all my calories in its race to grow to a mammoth size.

The Whirlwind

Referrals to specialists were made and last minute appointments were hastily schedule giving me zero chance to process what I was being told.  I was sent to an oncologist’s office to further discuss what this misbehaving spleen might really mean.  Yup, an oncologist was my next step.  This was scary as fuck.  My new Doc told me that we would have to conduct a couple of procedures in order to be sure of what we were dealing with.  In my entire life I had never broken a bone or had a medical procedure performed and now I was staring down the barrel of several.

The first was a lymph node biopsy.  Sounded simple enough, but when hospital officials started talking about living wills and medical powers of attorney it made my supposedly routine surgery feel like I was about to be cut from throat to crotch with a rusty bone saw.  Being a horror writer you can imagine the other grisly images that came along with that particular flight of fancy.  Thankfully the surgery was routine.  As they administered the twilight anesthetic I went from being transferred onto the surgery table to then instantaneously waking up in the recovery area.  I was groggy, loopy, just a little high, and incredibly fucking relieved to be awake.

The second procedure was another biopsy this time of my bone marrow.  You see punctures being performed willy nilly in medical dramas like they’re a walk in the park, but when you see your doctor covered in sweat once he’s done you know that it was a fucking ordeal.  The entire time my overriding fear was flinching as he ground the needle into my hip and accidentally causing a slip that would puncture a much less forgiving organ.

Survey Says

Waiting for the results of these tests was a fucking mind killer.  The anticipation was far from the delicious kind in Willy Wonka or Rocky Horror.  I called each doctor almost daily trying to find the status of the lab’s progress.  One set of results came in, but I still had to wait for the other before returning to my new Doc and processing it all.  Finally, when all the results OFFICIALLY came in I geared myself up for what would be the most important medical visit of my life.  My mind had been frazzled for quite a while, with still no time to slow down and reflect on what was happening to me, so I was grateful when the Doc allowed me to record our conversation.

Most of the conversation was a blur as my body was fiercely tensed awaiting the words which would irrecoverably fuck my shit up.  Doc had reviewed the results with the surgeon who performed the lymph node biopsy, reviewed his own results from the bone marrow biopsy and even brought in the professional opinion of a specialist from Duke University.  As gently as he could, in his small examination room where I clenched my wife’s hand, he told me I had cancer.  Non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma to be specific and two types to be even more accurate, one in my spleen and another in my bone marrow.  He went on to tell me it was aggressive, late stage and rare in a person of my age.  I had the cancer of a 70 year old ravaging my 31 year old body.  As crushing as the prognosis sounded there was no talk of X number of months to live or even death itself.  Modern medicine had been battling these particular strains for some time now and as long as I didn’t delay a single iota in starting my treatment I had a fighting chance of making it through the gauntlet.

What came next is for another time as I know that there’s been enough of my blood drained into these words already.

Why am I writing this?

First and foremost I need to personally thank the few people I’ve told directly about my medical challenges and their discretion.  I hope you don’t feel betrayed by my decision to now share these details publicly.  I’m still not sure why I’m doing it.  I don’t know if this will be the first in a series or my only words on the matter.  Will this be cathartic?  Is it an attempt at a meager written legacy?  So much of this requires a level of self-reflection that I just can’t give right now.  The one thing I do know with certainty is that these words chipped away a portion of the stone I now carry and even a miniscule lightening of the load is integral to my survival.

I have no expectations for this post.  It’s not a pity party or a cry for attention.  It is the simple baring of a soul while I still have a soul to share.  It is the drive to write that even in the direst of circumstances is an addiction that must be sated.  This is me, plainly and without polish.

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Even though February was the shortest month I found myself watching more movies than in January (if only by one). Perhaps it was the sleepless nights?  Nothing like insomnia to give you more hours in the day.  I was also feeling a bit nostalgic this month, so I dusted off some my favorite films like STAR TREK (2009) and X-MEN: FIRST CLASS.

For those of you just joining us, this post is a continuation of the New Year Movie Experiment series (here are January’s Results).  If there are further details you’d like me to reveal in these articles then just shoot me a tweet @GabrielNovo or leave a comment at the bottom of this post.

Flicks

I saw 26 movies in February.  That’s one more than last month and hopefully the beginning of an upward trend.  I listed the movies in chronological viewing order, starting at the top of column one and going down from there.

Genres

This month I focused more on the funny.  Laughter is the best medicine, as they say, and I needed a huge dose of chuckles.  I forgot how much I loved watching comedian specials.  I saw 3 this month and plan to inject many more into next month’s viewing schedule.

Stats

Here’s the breakdown of time stats, what sucked, and a couple of other nuggets.  If there are any other specific stats you want to see just let me know.  These posts are organic and constantly changing, so you’ll need to tell me what works and doesn’t work for you.

• Total Minutes Watched: 2760
• Total Hours Watched: 46
• Longest Film: 181 minutes (Fiddler on the Roof)
• Shortest Film: 60 minutes (Gabriel Iglesias: Hot and Fluffy)
• Overall Average Film Length: 106.15 minutes or 1.77 hours
• Oldest Film Watched: Gigi (1958)
• Worst Film Watched: In Time
• Repeat Offenders: Secretary, X-Men: First Class, Fright Night (2011)

IN TIME was a thoroughly disappointing film.  The lead actors brought little to the film basically sleepwalking through their roles.  I don’t completely blame Timberlake because his character was written as directionless and generally ill defined, but Seyfried needed to do something other than imitate an owl by staring at everything with those huge eyes of hers.  I found many of the supporting characters (Matt Bomer, Cillian Murphy, and even Alex Pettyfer) to be much more interesting and better acted than the leads.

The one thing that really killed this film for me was how they crapped on the beautiful premise setup by Bomer’s character Henry Hamilton which was: What would you do with your life if you had all the time you ever wanted and more?  Instead of developing Timberlake’s character and taking the story in challenging directions the entire thing devolved into a Robin Hood slash Bonnie & Clyde bullshit ride.  The writer (who was also the director and producer) didn’t have the chutzpah to make this film great and let it fall into the formulaic clichés we’ve seen a hundred times before.  Another lost opportunity for Sci-Fi to make audiences think.

What do you think of these stats?  Am I wasting away my life or not diving deep enough into my passion.  Also, if you’re running this little experiment at home let me know how it’s coming along in the comments or shoot me a tweet @gabrielnovo.  If you enjoy these articles then feel free to have them delivered directly to your inbox.

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When 2012 started I decided on a little experiment where I would keep track of every film I’d see that year.  This post is a summation of my first month of the experiment.  The format may change here and there as I figure out the best way to present this info, but suggestions are HIGHLY recommended.

I’ll also write the occasional milestone posts such as 100 hours, 100 movies, etc.  I am an absolute film fanatic, so hopefully there’ll be many those.  If there are any other topics you’d like me to discuss or further details you’d like me to reveal then just shoot me a tweet @GabrielNovo or leave a comment in one of these posts.

Flicks

I saw 25 films during the course of January.  For me that’s a little on the light side.  January was a tough month personally and professionally, so the few films I was able to watch were a welcomed respite.  I listed the movies in chronological viewing order, starting at the top of column one and going down from there.  If there were alternate endings I include whether or not I watched them both, but didn’t add anything to the runtime.  Speaking of runtimes, I pull all my information from IMDB to maintain consistency in my data gathering.

Genres

As you can tell from the list movies, my tastes are ALL over the place.  None of these were films I was dragged to by a demanding spouse as I honestly do enjoy every type of film out there.  I’m just as happy watching a silent black & white film as I am a modern thriller with slick special effects.  It all boils down to good story telling.  If you have it, I need to see it.  These are listed from most watched to least watched.

Stats

Ok, let’s start with some blunt honesty.  I like stats, but I’m not a super stat nerd so I won’t be able to pick out every little minutia.  If there’s a stat nerd out there who wants to lend a hand, please feel free to contact me buddy.  I could always use the help.  For this I’m gonna go with a simple list.  Again, suggestions on better display formats are very very welcome.

• Total Minutes Watched: 2729
• Total Hours Watched: 45.48
• Longest Film: 155 minutes (Gladiator)
• Shortest Film: 86 minutes (Liar, Liar)
• Overall Average Film Length: 109.16 minutes or 1.82 hours
• Oldest Film Watched: Casino Royale (1967)
• Worst Film Watched: National Lampoon’s Movie Madness

This is only the beginning, but it’s already cool to see how my tastes break out.  It’s also good to see cold hard numbers when it comes to my passion.  Perhaps a sobering realization or two will pop up during the year.  So far, so good.

What do you think of these stats?  Am I wasting away my life or not diving deep enough into my passion.  Also, if you’re running this little experiment at home let me know how it’s coming along in the comments or shoot me a tweet @gabrielnovo.  If you enjoy these articles then feel free to have them delivered directly to your inbox.

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I was a voracious reader as a child and even through middle school until high school (aka sex & alcohol) took over my lizard brain.  As an adult I found movies to be a great story substitute and my reading habits almost disappeared entirely.  The writer in me struggled during these dry periods without any real sustenance to keep my creative muscles healthy.  When I decided to bring back writing as a priority I knew I’d have to dive into books with the same hunger I once had in my childhood.

Being an IT consultant made book reading more difficult than usual.  My infatuation with dead trees limited how much I could read while traveling.  I’d sometimes stuff a paperback into my laptop bag, but if the book only came in hardcover, forget it.  If I wanted more variety I couldn’t justify the extra weight (my work bag was already loaded with tons of cables and gadgets). This meant that the most I could read in a one week trip was ONE book even though I could easily knock out a book in a day or two. With all the hassle I’d often forego a book entirely.  Reading on any kind of LCD screen was no better and would kill my eyes.  I stare at LCDs all day long for work, so the last thing I wanted to do is stare at them when I’m supposed to be relaxing.  If I absolutely had to read something lengthy off of my computer I’d either print it out or skip it altogether.

This was my dilemma, how could I devour books at a breakneck speed if I could only bring along one paperback at a time?  My desire to consume more words along with my travel restrictions were what finally drove me to join the e-reader club.  We all have different reasons for making certain decisions, but I wanted to share mine and show how a rabid bibliophile could morph into a fanatical Kindle user.

Weight & Size

Throwing a paperback into my laptop bag meant more weight on my shoulders and less space for other essentials.  This made a second book out of the question and the first one hard to justify.  With the Kindle’s slim profile I was able to slip it into an unobtrusive pocket which made almost no difference in the amount of space I had in my bag.  The weight is roughly the same, so it was a wash on that front.  No matter how many books I carried in the Kindle, my bag never weighed any heavier or suffered from a lack of room.  It allowed me the depth of reading material I always wanted.  This convenience alone was one of the top selling points for me.

Variety

Oftentimes as readers we get stuck in our familiar genres or trapped in the wake of our favorite authors.  This typically isn’t a problem until you hit the wall of sameness that every genre has or you’ve read the author’s entire bibliography.  Access to the online Kindle store through 3G–because let’s face it folks, you can never find a Wi-Fi signal when you need one—opened up a whole library of titles for me to choose from.  I could dip my toes in different genres without incurring any cost by downloading samples (the first couple of chapters) of almost any book.  There were even free titles I could consume completely.  If you’re an Amazon Prime member, which I am, then you have the ability to check out one book a month from participating publishers.  It may sound limited, but the selection has been pretty good so far.  You could even send documents to your Kindle for reading on the device.  I read through several manuscripts this way and not only was it easy, but I was able to write my notes directly into the doc thru the Kindle.

Ease of Use

There is a HUGE difference between LCD screens and E-Ink screens.  The glare and eyestrain associated with LCD are nonexistent with E-Ink.  If I were to put a paperback and my Kindle side by side, you’d be hard pressed to notice any difference in reading quality.  I’ve sat on planes right next to folks using a tablet or phone to read their books and every time it has reaffirmed my decision to go with a Kindle.  No matter how long I’d used mine (sometimes hours at a time) it never hurt my eyes in any way.  Also, the touch interface made reading a breeze.  No more broken spines to worry about or cramped hands from trying to keep the spines immaculate.  A simple tap here or there navigated through the book, highlighted a phrase or brought up a definition for a word.  This was a smooth combination of technology and tradition.

When I ordered the Kindle I also picked up a leather cover with a built-in LED reading light.  The cover didn’t arrive until a couple of days after the Kindle which I had been using naked in the meantime.  Putting the cover on the Kindle added something to the reading experience that I didn’t know I was missing.  Opening and closing the cover to read the Kindle replicated the same feeling I had opening and closing a nice leather bound book.  I hadn’t realized how important this simple tactile sensation was.  Suddenly, my Kindle experience brought me back to when I used to read my father’s Franklin Mint leather bound classics under the covers with a flashlight, something I hadn’t thought of in years.  That unexpected gem made me fall in love with the device.

I’ve read more books since receiving my Kindle than I have in all of last year.  That goes to show not only that the Kindle was a solid purchase, but how badly books have been missing from my life.  Armed with my shiny new Kindle I have high hopes for the year ahead.

What has your experience with the Kindle Touch been like? Let me know in the comments or shoot me a tweet @gabrielnovo. If you enjoy these articles then have them delivered to your inbox.

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I’m a movie nut in all conceivable ways.  If allowed, I would spend thousands of dollars to build up my DVD collection, in a single purchase… every couple of months.  One of the few topics I still speak passionately about is film and my knowledge of it is more encyclopedic than my knowledge of Information Technology (shhh, don’t tell anyone).  My ultimate goal, which I’m actively working on, is to become involved in the film industry (creating and producing not acting or directing).  Movies have always been a natural extension for a kid who’s been obsessed with stories since the moment he could read.

Reflecting on all this I asked myself, Just how fanatical am I about movies?  My answer is this little experiment which I will start conducting on January 1st:  I will keep a log of every single movie I watch for the entirety of 2012.  I’ll also keep track of their run times in order to determine how many hours of my life I’ve spent consuming film.  The idea came to me when I stumbled across an old list I kept from when I first bought my plasma TV.  I was trying to determine when I had crossed the first 200 hours of use which is when plasma TVs are most prone to burn in.

It’ll be interesting to see just how much of my life is dedicated to movies.  Quite possibly it’s one of those sobering statistics that no one pays attention to until someone crunches the numbers.  Hell, I hope I have the dedication to keep on track from an entire year.  Compiling statistics is not what I would consider a good time, but hopefully I can bring some of my RPG nerdiness to bear and it’ll keep me motivated.

Are you just as nutso about films as I am? Want to join me in this experiment? Let me know in the comments or shoot me a tweet @gabrielnovo. If you enjoy these articles then have them delivered to your inbox.

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A group of strangers banding together to fight a relentless evil is nothing new in the horror genre.  There have been many great movies made in that vein (i.e. From Dusk Till Dawn, Demon Knight, etc.) so I thought it was pretty difficult to inject fresh blood into a worn out story.  That’s where a little film called Feast proved me wrong.

Directed by John Gulager and written by Marcus Dunstan and Patrick Melton, Feast was a Project Greenlight winner.  Not exactly the pedigree you’d expect for a gore splattered horror film.  Somehow the creators of Feast were able to pull off an original film by taking all the assumptions an audience typically makes with horror films and turning them on their head.

For those of us writing horror stories or even horror films *raises hand*, Feast is a solid example of how knowing the rules allows you build an engaging film and then lets you screw with the audience in all the right places.

Exposition Sucks

This is an unavoidable fact of movie making.  It’s a constant struggle between keeping the momentum going and divulging the story to the audience.  Blake Snyder, of Save the Cat fame, recommended using the “Pope in the Pool” technique which was to provide something visually intriguing to the audience while also slipping the exposition into the scene.  Feast nailed this perfectly by providing quick title cards which added a touch of style, a touch of humor and some fantastic misdirection.  The writers definitely thought “outside the box” (Rollins would approve) when dealing with backstory.

If you’re struggling with lengthy plot explanations try to fold them into action scenes or have them interrupted by something else once enough detail has been given to provide a hook.  You could even leave certain threads hanging (i.e. where the Feast monsters came from) to give viewers a reason to tune into the sequel.  Also think about mocking convention to give the story a unique feel.  Austin Powers parodied exposition by creating a character who’s sole point was exposition.  It was even his last name.

Use the Audience’s Expectations Against Them

Trope: a convention or device used in a creative work.  The horror genre is busting at the seams with tropes, from the ever popular Kill It with Fire to the painfully predictable Virgin Power.  Most people can watch the first 15 minutes of any horror film and determine who lives and who dies.  Feast used these expectations to make plot twists that not only shocked the viewer into paying closer attention, but also had great comedic effect.  The heroes in Feast especially suffered at the hands of these twists.

You can interchange the word trope with cliché.  Don’t let the usual trappings of your genre lull you into using well worn characters or plot devices.  Throwing a monkey wrench into the viewer’s expectations lets them immediately know your story is something different and can help make your plot richer by venturing into new territory, but don’t twist for the sake of a twist.  Being clever is not the same thing as having a good story.  Think The Sixth Sense vs. M. Night’s later efforts.

Delay the Reveal

Anticipation and imagination are powerful things.  When you get someone’s wheels turning they’ll work themselves into a lather better than anything you can throw on the screen.  People were shocked by the ultra violence of Quentin Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs especially the scene where Michael Madsen cuts off a cop’s ear, but if you really think about the scene nothing happened at all.  You never saw anything occur and yet that one scene worked people into a frenzy.  Same goes for Scarface’s chainsaw scene in the beginning of the film.  Cuban exiles picketed the film and forced the production to move to LA based on that scene yet it was also never shown on screen.  Both of these intense moments were fabricated using sounds and the audience’s imagination against themselves.  No amount of CGI or special effects could ever replicate that intensity.

Feast builds anticipation like nobody’s business.  From the moment the hero bursts into the bar you know shit is going to hit the fan.  The creatures attack, kill and terrorize, but you barely see them.  The fear of the unknown works well against the characters and the audience.  Misdirection is even used by the creatures wearing pelts or by having smaller sized versions infiltrate first.  When the monsters are fully exposed there’s so much going on in the scene that you don’t have time to process it, you just hold onto your seat as the characters fight for their lives.

Feast wasn’t a overnight blockbuster, but it has garnered a strong cult following.  It showed us how a typical horror film was elevated to the next level by knowing your genre well enough to be able to pervert its conventions.  This made for a much more enjoyable movie than compared to other flicks with similar budgets.  When you think there’s nothing new under the sun, seek out hidden gems like Feast and draw inspiration from them.  It may give your next project the push it needs to distinguish itself from the rest of the pack.

What films have surprised you with their unexpected twists? Let me know in the comments or shoot me a tweet @gabrielnovo. If you enjoy these articles then have them delivered to your inbox.

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Point and click adventures have been my favorite computer games ever since I first popped a floppy into a drive.  I still vividly remember watching the intro to Maniac Mansion and wondering what this wacky game had in store for me.  From that very moment I was hooked.  I grabbed a hold of as many LucasArts games as I could get my hands on like Full Throttle, Sam & Max, and Grim Fandango.  Once those were devoured, I moved onto to some of Sierra’s delicious franchises (King’s Quest & Leisure Suit Larry).  Anything in the “adventure game” realm became the object of my obsession, one that continues even now.

These days point and click adventure games have fallen out of style.  LucasArts long ago abandoned their adventure game heritage.  Big name game studios focused their attention on more popular and profitable projects such as FPS’s, movie tie-ins or sports games.  This left only the indie game developers to pick up the torch.  Some have revived old classics while others have put out great new games like Machinarium, but I felt few were pushing the boundaries of this style of gameplay, that was until I came across TRAUMA.

I picked up TRAUMA through an earlier Humble Bundle.  It wasn’t in the initial offering, appearing as a last minute addition, and ended up being a pleasant surprise.  I had heard of the game before and even seen the trailer, so I was looking forward to finally playing it.  TRAUMA sucked me in from the very first dream and I couldn’t put it down until it was finished.  As a writer, I was impressed by how it unfolded.  As a gamer, I relished experiencing my beloved adventure games in a new light.

Come Share My Dreams

TRAUMA pulls you into the dreams of woman who is in the hospital after a car accident.  Drifting through these worlds she tries to come to terms with the memories they reveal and the predicament she’s in now.  There are four dream worlds to explore each with their own flavor and sounds.

The atmosphere in the game is fantastic. The music is a subtle audio blanket wrapping each dream in a comforting soundscape, from the shutter clicks as you move between scenes to the protagonist’s random narration that borders on poetry, fully immersing you into each little world.

The female protagonist, who guides you through these dreams, sounds a bit sedated as she speaks with you.  It’s not excessively monotone and instead adds to the ethereal quality of exploring someone else’s dreams which also fits with the fact that the girl is in a hospital bed recuperating from her injuries.  I wouldn’t be perky on an IV drip and pain killers either.

Picture Perfect Memories

TRAUMA leverages high resolution photos to make the game as realistic as possible.  It’s not the first game to do this, but it does execute it very well.  Even when you’re on a static screen you still get a sense of movement as the image tilts or shifts when you move your mouse.  Photos themselves are an integral part of the game.  When you travel through the dreams you find polaroid pictures scattered about.  Some of these provide clues to solving other dream puzzles or reveal more of the story.  Finishing the main ending and all the alternate ones for a particular dream gives you a photo “sixth sense” which helps you find any polaroids remaining in the dream.

The hyper realism of the game, through its photographic settings and live action cut scenes, balances against the dream logic you need to employ in order to succeed at the game.  With each completed dream you find yourself back in the hospital.  These scenes add layers to the story while revealing more of the protagonist.  They are far more minimal than the typical cut scene, but this adds to the charm of the game.

Game or Journey?

The developer’s goal wasn’t to make a video game in the traditional sense.  You do have the multiple endings and item gathering you find in most other games, but the focus of TRAUMA was to pull you into the story, letting you experience the flotsam and jetsam of a woman’s dream world, one that had become her only refuge after surviving a horrible car accident.  The isolation of these empty worlds is staved off by the pieces of memory that snuck in through the cracks, reminding her of the life before the hospital while trying to help her make sense of these tragic events.  You’re given a glimpse into the soul of someone who’s lost and in guiding her through these constructed realms, each one holding the fragments she needs to put herself back together again, you move her closer to finding some sort of peace with everything that’s happened to her.

TRAUMA often times feels like you’re playing a short film through the eyes of the main actress very much like a crude version of the SimStims William Gibson has proliferated throughout his cyberpunk novels.  The ease with which you navigate this world makes it a much more intimate experience.  No button combos or complicated moves just pure exploration.  TRAUMA isn’t for everyone and some won’t understand the real goal of the game, but for those willing to take a chance this is a taste of something different.  Hopefully this symbolizes the start of a new wave of unique adventure games.

What games have expanded your horizons? Let me know in the comments or shoot me a tweet @gabrielnovo. If you enjoy these articles then have them delivered to your inbox.

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Everyone has a mental list of stupid decisions they’ve made over the course of their life.  Dating that chick with the psycho ex-boyfriend, lending money to your serially unemployed friend and other assorted bonehead moves.  This week I added to my own list of dumb shit I’ve done.

For those of you that don’t know me, I’m a bit of a chili head.  I love to munch on spicy food or try out new hot sauces.  Sometimes I’ve been known to go too far and suffer the consequences.  This is one of those times.

Stupid Human Tricks

At my client in Atlanta there are a couple of guys who are also chili heads like me and a couple who claim to be.  My partner in crime (a fellow consultant) and I decided to separate the men from the boys by having a pepper eating contest.  This would be strictly big league, no jalapenos or pepperoncini or weak ass peppers.  Our 1st round was homegrown Thai peppers from the garden of an Asian student intern.  These puppies were some of the biggest Thai peppers I’d ever seen.

Here’s a handy chart to help you understand where Thai peppers (aka Bird’s Eye Chili) sit in the hierarchy of hotness.

Most of the self proclaimed chili heads made it through the initial round.  Some had a single bite before calling it quits while others chewed through those suckers with a smile on their face.  With Round 1 behind us we tried to figure out what the next level would be.  A normal (or smart) person would have gone up one level and used Habaneros or Scotch Bonnets.  Our stupid asses decided to shoot all the way up to Ghost Peppers (aka Bhut Jolokia Chili).

Charging Hell with a Squirt Gun

I thought I was prepared for the Ghost Pepper.  I had done my fair share of Habaneros and Scotch Bonnets.  Sriracha sauce was like ketchup to me these days.  What’s another 700 thousand more Scoville heat units to a guy like me?  Refer to the subtitle of this section to understand how well prepared I was.

I was the 2nd guy to undertake the challenge .  The 1st made it through with only a reddening of the face and a quiet contemplative look.  All the others flapped their gums, but refused to pull the trigger.  We all gathered in one of the offices to witness my attempt.  The dried Ghost Pepper had been rehydrating in a cup of water for over 10 minutes (as per the instructions on the bag).  I sat down in front of the monster with a 16oz bottle of chocolate Nesquik as my safety net and a foolish sense of invulnerability.

I gingerly picked the pepper up by its long stem, and under the gaze of my coworkers, took a bite of the tip.  Two things hit me at the same time, the unique yet intriguing flavor of the Ghost Pepper and a squirt of water from inside the pepper that ran down my chin.  The burning in my mouth and chin started instantaneously at a level which most other hot peppers peak at.  I slowly chewed while contemplating how to attack this fiendish plant.  The heat continued to build signifying a worrying trajectory.  I tipped the pepper downward letting the other hidden water trickle back into the cup.  Now I was ready for bite number two.

As I bit into the pepper a very unfortunate thing happened, the stem broke off.  Now with the pepper held only by my lips (which were already sizzling from the heat) I had a dilemma on my hands.  I could hold the pepper with my fingers (something I was trying very hard to avoid) or I could take the whole thing into my mouth and go for gold.  I’ll give you one guess as to which path I took.

I methodically chewed into the remaining Ghost Pepper hoping my slow pace would somehow temper the rising heat.  Instead the super saturated pepper unloaded its nuclear payload into the back of my throat.  Have you ever had your uvula burn in excruciating pain?  It’s not something I would recommend.

Distracted by the white hot pain I failed to notice that I had started tearing up.  When the tears rolled down my cheeks it was one of my coworkers who pointed it out.  My face was flush red with tears streaming down my cheeks, but I soldiered on and finished eaten the cursed pepper.

I tried to described the molten lava that was destroying my mouth as best I could with a voice hoarse from the pepper eating away at my throat tissues.  One of the guys went white and backed away a couple of inches.  Another laughed nervously.  There’s nothing better than being an example of sheer stupidity for others to learn from.

A couple of minutes after I swallowed the Ghost Pepper the heat hit a level that was almost musical in its pain.  I ripped the cap off of the chocolate Nesquik and chugged that sucker down in 5 seconds flat.  The drink provided relief for roughly… 5 seconds.  The fire surged back with a mighty roar.  At this point I scrambled to the nearest vending machine and bought a bottle of ice cold water.  Chug, chug, chug… gone in 5 seconds.  Fire returned in 3.

I got another bottle of water and tried to ration it out while pacing the hallways.  I kept to the less trafficked sections of the office because, honestly, who wants to see a red faced, crying consultant wandering around their hallways?  The tears finally dried up only to be replaced by my ears being clogged like I was in an airplane.  That was a new experience on the pepper eating front.  Didn’t know that could even be a side effect.  I paced for a while, returned to the chili heads to continue describing the inferno, and then paced some more.  It took a full half hour for the heat to reach manageable levels and it didn’t disappear at that point only lower itself to Habanero degrees of intensity.

I think my display of unbridled pain put a kibosh on the entire pepper eating contest.  I did cement my spot in the upper echelon of chili heads for having gone through with the experience and NOT thrown up, but that has now become my own personal definition of a “hollow victory.”  The rest of the work day finished without incident.  Some of the “talkers” said they’d try next week.  I told them I’d be there with bells on to watch.  They then mumbled to themselves and walked away.

The 2nd Wave

Little did I know, the Ghost Pepper was not done kicking my ass.  Later that evening, when I thought I was safe in my hotel room, the chili hit phase two of destroy Gabriel’s stomach lining.  The best I can guess is that my stomach acids finally ate through the pepper’s seeds.  It felt like a mace grenade exploded in the pit of my belly.  Just try to imagine the heat my mouth experienced earlier and move the sensation directly into my stomach.  I was instantly doubled over.  My kidneys even started to burn as they processed the fire water this pepper was creating.  Within seconds my entire body was covered in a cold sweat.  It was some of the gnarliest pain I’d ever experienced.  Twice as bad as eating the pepper itself.

Chugging cold water didn’t help.  Popping antacids didn’t help.  Jamming food down my throat didn’t help.  In the end I sat my ass down, focused on my breathing and friggin’ meditated just to make it through the ordeal.  I now thoroughly understand how Yogi’s use pain to focus themselves into trance like states.  I won’t say I found enlightenment, but I did see stars for quite a while.

I’m sharing this little moment of inane idiocy with you all as a cautionary tale and as a permanent reminder for myself.  Don’t do stupid shit and you won’t pay the consequences.  There’s a reason why “Hey y’all watch this!” are famous last words.

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I’m a nerd.  This should not come as any surprise (it’s in the damn sub-title of my blog), so when I profess my love of comic books no one will be wonder where that declaration came from.  I’ve loved comics for as long as I’ve been able to read.  Marvel, DC, Dark Horse, Image, you name it and I’ve tried to get my hands on it.  The artwork and stories made a seductive mix which I was irresistibly drawn to.

I still vividly remember the first graphic novel I was given (or had even read) as a birthday present.  I can tell you what it felt like to stumble across a hardcover edition of Maus on the shelves of my elementary school library in Costa Rica.  Reading the 50th issue of Sandman "Ramadan" gave me the burning desire to one day write something half as good as that amazing tale.

As a writer you always aim to create tangible images with your words.  In comics you get the ability to combine those words with colorful imagery making a much stronger impression than with art or letters alone.  Crafting Comics is my attempt to bring that love of illustrated narrative to the Internet.  A place where other comic book creators, experienced or starting out, can gather to share their love and swap knowledge. 

Swing by and see what we have to offer or if you would like to contribute as well.  You can also follow Crafting Comics on Twitter and join our Fan Page on Facebook.

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People often complain about the lack of free time in their lives.  They burn through days running on the hamster wheel of modern living all the while bemoaning; If only I had more time I could finally <learn that language/write that book/take that trip> I always wanted to.  For most it’s the daily unease which permeates their existence, an irksome white noise constantly in the background.

I’m guilty of this as much as the next person, but I fall into another camp struggling with this issue.  I’m making the commitment to change my approach and use the hours I have at my disposal to meet the goals I want out of life.  As it has been said many times in aspiring writer circles, all it takes is an hour a day to accomplish any of your writing goals.

I decided that instead of having a nebulous "hour" which needed to be met every day that I would turn it into something more tangible.  The picture at the beginning of this post is my "hour".  I can touch it, look at it and I know what it sounds like.  When I pull the hour out of my book bag I know my mindset will begin to shift and the writing wheels will screech to life.  As I turn the dial it begins the ritual I have now committed myself to, the ritual of stealing back an hour from the day so I can use it to move my dreams forward.  Building this habit will be hard at first, excuses piling up as Resistance kicks my ass, but hopefully it will soon transform from a chore into an addiction. 

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Cuban Nomad went completely offline for several days this week.  I was caught with my pants down on this outage and didn’t have anything to let people know what was going on. 

Lessons learned from this one: I should never touch MySQL without a trained professional nearby and contingency plans need to be formulated before things goes south. The upside to all this trouble is that we’re on much better hardware and in a brand new datacenter, so these hiccups shouldn’t happen again. 

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The downtown portion of a city can tell you a lot about its character like the small town feel of Charlotte’s "uptown" (its like a Fisher Price "My First Skyline") or the extreme poverty meets ultra luxury of downtown Miami.  Some cities are defined by their downtown area while with others are reminders of their more unseemly qualities.  I’ve been in downtown Atlanta for roughly 3 months now and it has shown me its character from the very first day. 

In all the places I’ve lived only a few truly felt dangerous.  Chicago is the first one that comes to mind especially since I wasn’t legally able to own a gun in my home while living there.  Seriously, how do you fend off crack heads breaking into your apartment; strong language and a wagging finger or a call to 911 that’s answered 7-10 minutes later if you’re lucky?  Chicago was a sketchy city filled with good blocks and bad blocks.  Miami didn’t even feel that way no matter how rough the neighborhood.  I remember driving through South Florida and into Haitian gang territory without worrying as much as I did in Chicago.

Fast forward to 2011 and you have me in downtown Atlanta.  While the "good block, bad block" mentality isn’t as prevalent in Atlanta, you do find sketchy moments throughout downtown.  Every day I walk half a mile to the client site.  One, because when you sit behind a computer for 8 to 10 hours a day any kind of exercise is welcome and two, because I refuse to drive a car in Atlanta.  Reminds me too much of Los Angeles.

The walk itself isn’t bad and has some cool parts, but overall there’s one thing that constantly bothers me.  It’s not the rundown sections of town covered in broken glass.  It’s not the cracked asphalt I stumble upon every single day.  It’s the random crazy people I encounter every time I’m out and about.  There’s a fine line between poverty and desperation.  Ask anyone who’s visited Mexico outside of the resorts.  You see long stretches of road populated with struggling towns and desperate people.  You can see it in their eyes.

People struggling against poverty can have pride in their homes and work, still maintaining certain standards in spite of their situation.  Desperation removes all boundaries and submerges people into their most animalistic tendencies.  Every time I walk to or from my hotel there are a bevy of people looking me up and down, sizing me up to see if they should approach me for cash or roll me for my book bag.  If that happens to you one or two times it’s not that big of a deal, but if it’s a daily occurrence it begins to grind on your psyche keeping you continuously on edge no matter what.

That’s my state of being in downtown Atlanta.  I’ve gone to other parts of Atlanta, outside the downtown region, and had a fantastic time with friends, but whenever I’m traveling back to the heart of the city that creeping unease begins to settle in again.  At first I thought the cold weather was to blame, miserable and wet with a touch of ice.  Yet even when the sun reappeared and temperatures reached the 60′s the same disquiet saturated the back alleys.  I’ve seen people sleeping in doorways and strung out men trying their best to stop the shakes as they ask for a couple of dollars. 

Atlanta is probably a wonderful city filled with culture and beauty and there are probably many people who love this city more than any other.  Sadly, what Atlanta has revealed to me are its abandoned graffiti covered businesses, hopeless street denizens and crumbling roads.  I will not look upon my time here fondly no matter how many nuggets of joy are hidden in its weathered grip.

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Crowdfunding is an internet spin on an old idea.  For as long as I can remember people have been raising money for one reason or another; Girl Scout’s with their cookies, Salvation Army with their buckets and of course politicians with their promises.  With the Internet we’ve taken the bake sale fundraiser and gone global.  Now you can have people from all over the world pitch in to get you closer to the brass ring.

If you’re interested in running your own crowdfunding campaign and start researching the concept you’ll find tons of articles talking about "why" people contribute to these things and techniques you can use to help maximize your success.  The one thing I’ve never seen is a case study from an actual donor or a poll taken of all the backers who participated.  Since this information is lacking I’ve decided to contribute my reasons for having backed crowdfunding projects.  My reasons are my own and might not reflect the population at large, but I’m going to be blunt and honest.

Since July 13th, 2010 I have donated to 3 separate crowdfunding campaigns.  I will detail what the projects were, who was involved and my relationship to them.

Julie Keck & Jessica King (King is a Fink) – Tilt: An Independent Thriller

I met King is a Fink through internet channels.  They were cool, they were supportive and they were into a lot of different things that expanded my horizons (Cinekink, NYC Midnight, etc).  When it came to this project their involvement was all I needed to know.  Everything else was extraneous.

But for everyone else… Tilt is a thriller directed by Phil Holbrook and set in Brainerd, MN whose claim to fame is being the city the movie Fargo was filmed in.  There’s more to it, but that’s all I knew when I chose to help fund this.

• Relationship: Met on Twitter, solidified thru blog posts/comments, and then connected on Facebook.
• What Worked: Julie & Jessica, I knew their other work and was hungry to see more.  The daily coffee chats with Phil were phenomenal.  Low key, very relaxed and on a regular enough schedule to keep me interested.  The connection thru the semi-daily chats was better than any other video recorded for this campaign. Tilt the Town was a stroke of genius.  Populating a fictional town with backers as crazy characters was a perk that really made the campaign stand apart.
• What Didn’t: The first TILT trailer really didn’t resonate with me.  It was too long and didn’t hold my interest.  If I had based my entire opinion on that trailer I would have passed on this project.
• Why I Chose My Donation Level: The Tilt Town biography was a cherry on top as was my name in the credits, but a DVD of the film is what sold me.  Owning a copy of the film you helped make is an awesome feeling along with supporting two very cool chicas.

Tyler Weaver (Multi-Hyphenate) – Whiz! Bam! Pow!

Tyler is one of those ambitious creatives who’s constantly pushing himself to the next level.  I came across his writing on a now defunct television review site and from retweets by King is a Fink.  His own site, Multi-Hyphenate, was a cool swirl of creative energy with articles on a wide variety of subjects.  I wanted to join in the fun and wrote an article for him as well (Reboots and Remakes: What Works and What Doesn’t).

When I heard he was looking to make a 1940′s comic, radio play and corresponding short film I immediately thought "that’s just crazy enough to work!"  Helping him reach that goal was a no-brainer and I was also intrigued with why he went with IndieGoGo when I had seen so many other campaigns leveraging Kickstarter. 

• Relationship: Met on Twitter, solidified thru blog posts/comments, guest wrote on his blog and then connected on Facebook.
• What Worked: The scope of the project.  He was going for a film, radio play, iPhone app and slew of other directions.  The fact that it would all be connected really interested me as well as learning more about transmedia.  Plus, I’m a sucker for comic books especially one’s set in the 1940′s
• What Didn’t: The campaign started strong with videos and twitter action, but fizzled out to just twitter mania.  It didn’t have the connection or consistent message of other campaigns.
• Why I Chose My Donation Level: A copy of the comic, radio show, short film and having a vintage ad in the comic itself was too good to pass up.  Also having worked with Tyler I really wanted to see this project succeed.

Angelo Bell – Road to Hong Kong

I first encountered Angelo Bell thru retweets from Tyler Weaver.  I started following him and liked many of the articles he linked to or snippets he shared about being in the film industry.  The first crowdfunding campaign of his that I encountered was for his upcoming film Legend of Black Lotus.  Kung Fu movies are up my alley, but I personally wasn’t interested in one with a strong family focus or child lead actor.  I’m more in the Jet Li, Jackie Chan camp of martial arts films.

Even though I didn’t contribute to the project I still followed his progress and tweets.  Recently he mentioned going to Hong Kong to meet his potential co-producers at the Hong Kong International Film and Television Market (FILMART) and the Hong Kong Asian Film Financing Forum (HAF).  He already scored an all-access pass to FILMART so all he needed to do was get to Hong Kong.  That’s an idea I can get behind.

• Relationship: Met on Twitter.
• What Worked: Angelo has put in the time and effort to network his way into this opportunity.  I would gladly do what I could to bring him closer to becoming a full fledged international film director.  The blog post he wrote gave me all the information I needed to know it was a worthy endeavor.
• What Didn’t: The idea and blog post really sold me, so I didn’t need to see the video. 
• Why I Chose My Donation Level: Since I didn’t know much about his previous work I liked the opportunity to experience many of his short films at once.  Also getting access to his travel blogs, private tweet stream for the trip and the contact info collected at the events were a big draw.

Hopefully this breakdown will help others looking to launch campaigns of their own.  This should also be a clear indication that Social Media WORKS.  I haven’t met any of these people in person or talked to them on the phone.  The best has been an IM chat or Google Wave (remember that?).  These relationships were completely forged through Twitter and blog posts and comments.  Facebook came at the tail end once the connection was already there.   If that doesn’t legitimize the medium I don’t know what will.

If you contributed to one of these projects or any crowdfunding endeavor I’d love to hear your reasons why. 

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