I UPDATED MY PROJECTS PAGE

Scouting the Norway, Iowa Baseball Field, The Final Season, 2006

Dear Reader,

I updated my PROJECTS page - take a look to see what I am currently working on.

I'll have a new column posted in a few days.  Here's the title:

Independent Film Production, Raising Money for Movies, Opening a vein and Productive Insanity.

If your a writer, work in the movie business and/or are trying to raise money to shoot your picture, you are gonna definitely want to read this post.

Thanks for reading and sign up to follow.

Best,

DME

Patience and poisons.

This is the post I promised the other day on:

Surf Fishing, German Shepherd Dog competition, Saunas VS. Steam Rooms and Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy.

Dear Reader,

How in the hell is he going to connect all that?  With patience and poison.

Who is the greatest writer that ever lived?  What’s the greatest book ever written?  What’s the greatest novel ever written?  These questions are, of course, impossibly general in nature.  Can you really compare fiction to non-fiction?  A great History and to a great Novel?  Of course not.  And it’s not just the absurd nature of trying to universally label one work over all others, but the virtual impossibility of coming to grips with what exactly we mean by “greatest.”  Do we mean “best?”  Ok.  What do we mean by best?  Biggest?  Most pages?  Most words?  Most moving emotionally?  Wait though, what moves you emotionally might not move me emotionally, unless of course the writer has managed to tap into that Jungian universal subconscious stuff -- then we all love it.  Right?  Wrong.  What was the language in which the writer wrote the book, Russian?  Ok, what if the translator botched it?  How would you know?  You wouldn’t, you would just think the book sucks and that all those fawning Russian fans (who’s first language is of course Russian) are a bunch of uppity snots getting their furry-hatted didactic on.

So you see where I’m going here, it’s a can of worms.  And you know what you do with worms, right?  Use them as bait when fishing.  Not Surf Fishing but close enough.   Have some patience and I swear to God the title will make sense by the end of this post.  I hope so.

There are however a few things we can say with a fair degree of certainty, one is that we can agree that most people agree that William Shakespeare was the greatest writer that ever lived.  Certainly the greatest writer in the English language.  And two, is that Tolstoy hated Shakespeare.  Thought he was a hack.  A bad dramatist and not a true artist at all.  Here’s what Leo had to say about Bill in a 1903 essay:

“I remember the astonishment I felt when I first read Shakespeare. I expected to receive a powerful aesthetic pleasure, but having read, one after the other, works regarded as his best: King Lear, Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, MacBeth, not only did I feel no delight, but I felt an irresistible repulsion and tedium...

"Several times I read the dramas and the comedies and historical plays, and I invariably underwent the same feelings: repulsion, weariness, and bewilderment...  Being desirous once more to test myself, I have, as an old man of seventy-five, again read the whole of Shakespeare, including the historical plays, the "Henrys," "Troilus and Cressida," the "Tempest," "Cymbeline," and I have felt, with even greater force, the same feelings, this time, however, not of bewilderment, but of firm, indubitable conviction that the unquestionable glory of a great genius which Shakespeare enjoys, and which compels writers of our time to imitate him and readers and spectators to discover in him non-existent merits,—thereby distorting their aesthetic and ethical understanding,—is a great evil, as is every untruth.”

Yikes.  So arguably the greatest novelist of all time thought arguably the greatest writer of all time sucked.  Where does that leave mere old “us?”  I mean, really, I’m not gonna argue with Lev are you?  Ah, but here’s the thing of it, Tolstoy didn’t consider himself a novelist, nor did he think War And Peace (arguably the greatest novel ever written) was a novel.  He considered it an epic in prose.

War and Peace and Anna Karenina are  certainly two of the greatest novels of all time, but the guy who wrote them considered one a novel and one not a novel.  I’ve read both.  Trust me they’re novels.  They’re the pinnacle of “realist fiction.”  But they are most definitely novels.

Tolstoy had a tendency toward the complicated and the paradoxical, he had extreme moralistic and ascetic views.  I mean this is a man whom at the age of 82, in 1910, after decades of agonizing over it, gathered the nerve to abandon his family and his wealth (and I mean chucked it all!) and embark upon the life of a wandering ascetic.

 Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount had a transformational effect on Tolstoy - leading to his becoming a Christian-anarchist (so much for The Vatican, The Middle Ages and all those Crusades, right?) and an anarcho-pacifist.   Try to imagine yourself at 82 years-old, decades into a comfortable retirement and then walking out the door one day to wander around and essentially seek inner truth by attempting to utterly rid yourself of “self.”  Wait.  What?

Complicated.  Yes. Sir.  Paradoxical?  Yep.  You see, Tolstoy was also a pacifist.  And an Anarchist.  Wait.  What again?  He was both a pacifist (non-violent no matter what) and an Anarchist (seeking to overthrow all government - he said undermine, but that’s Lev splitting his definitives again and playing silly little syntax games).  So, then, a passionate believer in complete non-violence between human beings in any form who nonetheless espoused the complete overthrowing of all government.  By non-violent means.  Which of course is impossible, because even if the pacifists remain non-violent the government will not, they will engage in violence.  See where this is going?  In order to remain non-violent and overthrown the government you have to incite violence (ok maybe not incite it, but be a part of it)  even though you claim you are neither inciting it nor participating in it, you, of course, are. Yep. Tolstoy.  Paradoxical.  Copy that.

Tolstoy died in 1910 (of pneumonia, jacked up on morphine and camphor) just days after having finally made the decision to go off-grid, give everything up and seek transcendence through utter personal, physical, material and financial deprivation.  Decades it gnawed at him to do this, and imagine that; he makes the decision and then dies.  That, my friends, is called cosmic irony.  Only slightly less ironic than the death of the famous monk Thomas Merton (The Seven Story Mountain), who after having taken a vow of silence and not uttering a word for many many years, took a week vacation outside the monastery and said something, then was promptly electrocuted in his hotel bathtub.  I think a fan dropped into the tub.

But the point of all of this is what do patience and poison have to do with anything.  Tolstoy was nothing if not a patient man. Patient as a writer (War and Peace has 580 separate and distinctly three dimensional characters playing across a sweepingly epic story landscape - spinning those plates is patience like Job had), patient as father and grandfather, and patient as a social reformer - he was a devout pacifist and what do pacifists do when the government sends in the military to force you back to work from a country wide general strike?  They wait.  Patiently.  And then a very large number of them die.  But still, it tends to work.  Ghandi?  Martin Luther King Jr.?  They loved Tolstoy.

And the poison part?  Tolstoy saw government and the wealthy as the poisons of mankind.  I agree a little on the former but not regarding the latter.  Still he went after the poison with patience.  I think he succeeded.  Remember the 1960‘s?  American Civil Rights legislation?  Thank Leo Tolstoy.

Being patient

Ok, here’s the Surf Fishing part.  It takes a lot of patience as well.  The fish are out there, yes they are.  Whiting, Pompano, Sheepshead, Redfish (all delicious eating - Tolstoy was a vegetarian, I am too, except for the fish part ;) all hang out just off shore, maybe a little beyond the first set of breaking waves, where I live that’s about 150 to 350 yards depending on the prevailing conditions and how the fish are feeling that day.  What can I control?  Only my gear: pole, reel, line, rigging (I recommend Mutard Pompano Pro Rigs) and where and how far I cast my bait.  After that it’s a waiting game.  Patience.  The poison?  That’s whatever stress, pressure or worry I’m carrying around.  And you know what worry is, right?  That’s a bunch of stuff that you have no control over, that you walk around obsessing about as if you have some control of it.  When I rig up and cast out while I’m standing waist deep in the ocean, with the hope (patient hope) that I’ll catch something, that makes the poisons go away.  Meditation.  I highly recommend it.

Maverick Vom Evans

German Shepherd Dog competition is an exercise in total patience and understanding.  All wrapped up in actually communicating with another species.  I’ve been training my dog, Maverick (pure bred GSD) for about 4 months now.  The GSD is an enormously athletic dog, has very high “drive” and as such is a high maintenance responsibility.  I don’t mean I have to buy him jewelry and current fashions to keep him happy either, I mean if you do not have the time to devote to the exercise of both the mind and body of an animal as eager to learn and please and protect, and needful of being in direct personal communication with you -- and if you don’t run him two to three times a day - then you’re abusing that German Shepherd Dog.  You are denying him the life he was purposed to live.  I’m very lucky because I do have the time, energy, desire and wherewithal to devote to him.  And the rewards are incredibly gratifying.

Maverick is exceptionally willful, highly intelligent, incredibly agile and he actually reasons.  Our relationship is built on a firm foundation of respect.  He lives in our world, not the other way around, so of course it’s me training him.  But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t rip my throat out.  He could, but he’s smart and he knows if he did that then he’d have nobody to throw the tennis ball for him.  


So we’re good.  Me and him.

Maverick at the beach!

The patience part of this piece of the post puzzle is obvious I think.  He’s eager to learn, eager to please, and I have to be patient with him because of course he doesn’t speak English.  So far though, things have gone better than my wildest expectations.  His vocabulary (words or phrases which either indicate something I want him to do, or not to do) is around 20 now.  Each one of these is also accompanied by a hand signal, about 2/3 of the commands I do not have to speak now.  I just give him a hand signal and he and I understand each other.  In the same way he will behave in a very particular manner to communicate to me that he either needs or wants something.  I’m patient with him and he’s patient with me.  I respect him, his intelligence and his potential, and he respects me as the alpha dog who’s not going to let anything harmful happen to him.

How great is that?

And the poison part of this piece of the puzzle?  Well, working my GSD, exercising him and communicating with him, learning with him (it’s a two way street) is a very focused endeavor.  When he and I are at it, it’s a pure sort of communication devoid of envy, frustration, anger, worry etc...  none of that nasty human-to-human stuff we all fall prey to from time to time.  Just a pure exchange of respect and learning.  I love that.  It purges the mind of those unfortunate human psychological negativities.  He and I are working toward honing our communication to the point where we can compete in  working dog and obedience competitions.  Well, that’s what they call them, but Maverick and me will just pretend they’re “communication competitions.”

Now, wrapping this all up, saunas and steam rooms.  This one should be so freaking obvious I should hardly have to write it down.  Sauna, hot and dry.  Steam room, hot and humid.  Human go in full of toxins and poisons (bad air, bad food, bad attitude), human come out poison free and sweating like the proverbial pig.  So go in, sit, sweat, be patient and get the poisons out.  Physical and mental.  I do this at least once a day.  But, if you need some history, here ya go:




“In Finland, Estonia and Latvia as well in Russia, the sauna is an ancient custom. It used to be a holy place, a place where women gave birth, and where the bodies of the dead were washed. There were also many beliefs and charms that were connected to sauna. It was, among other things, a place for worshipping the dead – it was thought of as such a wonderful place that even the dead would surely like to return to it. Curing diseases and casting love spells could also happen in the sauna. As in many other cultures, fire was seen as a gift from heaven in Finland, and the hearth and 
the sauna oven were its altars.”

Latvian sauna

Ancient stone sauna door

After all, one of the greatest things Tolstoy ever said, and I’m paraphrasing here was, “Everyone wants to change the world, but no one wants to change themselves.”

So be patient, get the poisons out and change yourself for the better on a daily basis.  The world, your world, will be the better place for it.

Thanks for reading and check back soon.

And sign up to follow so I don’t have to keep sending out those mile long recipient-list emails!

Best as always,


DME

Surf Fishing, German Shepherd Dog competition, Sauna VS. Steam Room and Leo Tolstoy.

Leo Tolstoy at his writing desk. Dude, where's the WiFi??
 Dostoyevsky told Tolstoy he was, "A God of the Art!"

And just how in the hell is he going to connect all that?  I have no idea... let’s find out.

Dear Reader,

I’ve had a big increase in visits to my Blog, and for that I thank you very much.  I added a gadget to the right side of the page called FeedJit, which tracks real time traffic and where the visits are coming from.  Very cool.  I love seeing that people from all over the United States and Canada, and even some from Japan, Australia and Europe are logging on and reading my posts.  I’ll try hard to continue to make it worth your time.

Leo Tolstoy's bedroom. What, no flat screen,
cable and streaming news feeds? Nope.

My book is finally done.  It’s currently being read by a select group of writer-friends whom I trust to tell me the truth, the excruciatingly blunt truth.  As soon as I get this feedback the book file goes out to the eBook formatter and then uploaded to Amazon, Barnes & Noble, SmashWords, CreateSpace and elsewhere in all the currently available digital formats.  The soft cover and hard cover will be print-on-demand at CreateSpace.  And as soon as I can manage it, the audio book version (Mp3, CD, etc...) will be available as well -- all of these formats will also be available for download from the Flying Wagon Books eBook Website that I’m having built out now.  There will be a link on my blog to that site and Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

Ok, enough about my book.

I’m really, REALLY happy  to announce that starting the second half of this year, and continuing through all of 2013, I’m going on “The 20th Anniversary Sandlot Tour.” More to follow on this...

That is all for now... I will connect the dots regarding the titile of this column tomorrow.  Stand by...

Thanks for checking in...

AND SIGN UP TO FOLLOW!

Best as always,

DME

My Book.

Dear Reader,

I am about one chapter away from completing the edit and layout of my book, Robert Radio Flyer, The King of Pacoima.  It’s been a long slog, not so much from a constant revision stand point, but because of percolation and cogitation time.  I wrote the first draft of the book in the summer of 1989.  It was rejected by 26 publishers.  Let’s see who has the last laugh there, right?  HA!  That was me.  Laughing.

I’m told by writer friends, in my small cadre of writer friends (and I experience this myself as well), that there is always a moment during the process that is mostly more valuable than any other - the “ah-ha” moment.  That split second of clarity that only long periods of “letting it simmer up there” can hope to bring.  That simmering is both the blessing and bane of any writer, essentially it means you never stop working.  


Whoever said that being a writer is like having homework every night for the rest of your life was right on the money - walk around thinking of nothing and you’re still always thinking of something -- the story you’re currently working and whatever problem there is to solve.  These moments really come out of nowhere.  They come suddenly - like a high speed car wreck, only there’s no damage, just, well, wonder I think.  Blissful wonder at how the hell you ever came up with that, and where the hell it came from.  But it’s like this: think about it and you’ll never come up with anything, stop thinking and in time, when it’s ready, it’ll come.  I think Freud’s last words, when asked what he considered his greatest accomplishment, were something like, “I proved the existence of the subconscious.”  That’s where it comes from.  But the how and the why of it, you got me there.  All I know is that the minute you start taking credit for it, you are through as a writer - or any sort of artist for that matter.

The moment usually comes in the form of a solution to a problem, but sometimes as the missing part.  The missing or forgotten ingredient that finally gives the story the emotional impact you intended.  Or connects it all in a way you hadn’t considered, and makes it more than the sum of the words on the page.

So I had one of those moments a while ago about my book.  I needed a way to authenticate the story, render it as an honest history about the two main characters Mike and Bobby.  Not that it was inauthentic or dishonest to begin with, far from it, but it’s a first person period piece told through the eyes of two brothers in the early 70’s.  I mean for those of you who remember Kodachrome try and describe the look of it in words.  Now get out an old Kodachrome slide and look at it.  Big difference right?  There’s an unspoken sense of history, an immediate sense of time and place. 


So my ah-ha moment was to include visuals in the book.  Not like an “illustrated book,” but old slides, photos, pencil drawings, motion picture type storyboards, digitally manipulated pictures and fine artwork.  Each one of these is designed to be evocative, metaphorical and subtextual - to push the reader to associate that immediate sense of time and place with what the main characters are going through, which even though decades ago, the visuals bring right up to the present in the reader’s mind.  You see what the characters see, you’re there where the characters are, and so you feel what the young main characters feel.  At least that’s my hope.  Other of the visuals are there to give you a direct look into what the boys are seeing in their heads - or that the narrator is remembering  (the motion picture storyboards, the fine artwork), some others to ground the entire fantasy aspect of their journey in hard, cold reality (the haunting old snapshots and Kodachrome slides that sometimes accompany the words on the page and gird the narrative there).

Look, the prose stands on it’s own.  Are these visuals necessary?  No.  Do the deepen the reading experience?  I think so.

Here’s what I mean:

This is what chapter headings look like:

Here's what a page looks like with an embedded photo that supports the narrative on that particular page:

Here's an example of the fine artwork depicting an action sequence from the story:

And here's an example of a chapter end photo and caption that is intended to push the reader to the next chapter:

So there ya go.  I'd like to know if you think the illustrative concept seems to you to support what I've been saying here.  Feel free to hit comment at the end of this column and let me know.  I thank you in advance.

My goal is to sell one million copies of this book.  A tall order?  I don't think so.  I think my story will be meaningful to far more than a million people.  It'll be available on all digital formats probably at $3.99, and on Create Space for $7.99 softcover, $9.99 hardcover.  I hope the book (the story) appeals to anyone that's ever had trouble in life, anyone who grew up in a less than ideal family environment, anyone who has ever had to overcome the seemingly insurmountable.  In other words, all of us.  Because, although bittersweet to be sure, the story is really about this: that no matter how bad it gets in life, no matter how difficult, no matter how close to hopelessness we may find ourselves, it always gets better.  Always.

The human being is the only animal on earth that can literally change it's life by changing it's attitude.

I hope my little book changes lives, or at the least lets anyone who has every been saddled with adversity, especially when they were children, that they were not, are not and never will be alone.

Thanks for reading and check back soon.

And please sign up to follow if you haven't already -- it'll save me sending out all those huge-recipient-list emails. ;)

Best,

DME

World's best leashes and gear for your dog!

 Dear Reader,

I am not in the habit of endorsing anyone or anything, but when I find a product that is top quality, does what the manufacturer claims it does, and just flat out "works" then I have to pass it along.

Maverick on watch at the beach

I just received the gear that I ordered for Maverick, my GSD, from Xtreme Pet Products and it is nothing less than outstanding.  The world's best leashes, harnesses and gear for your dog.  So visit their site and buy their gear -- I promise you will not be disappointed.

Xtreme Pet Products

Here's the testimonial I wrote for them:

"I just received my extreme security leash with the added stretch section.  I first saw these at the Los Angeles County Fair where Xtreme Pet Products had a booth.  I didn't have a dog at the time, but admired the top quality construction and top level materials used in making their leashes (and everything else for that matter), and wanted to buy one anyway!  I saved their card for four years.  I'm glad I did.  It's simply the best leash in

the world.  My 2 year old pure bred German Shepherd Dog loves it, and the slight recoil through the stretch section has eliminated his minor "pulling problem" (he's a well trained, but enthusiastic boy) -- he feels the back-pull, and instantly stops pulling.  I'll be buying from Xtreme Pet Products again.

Thanks,

David Mickey Evans
(Writer/Director/Narrator - The Sandlot)"

Thanks for reading and check back soon,

P.S. if you have one of those little plastic spool reel "leashes" that reels and un-reels as your dog comes and goes, take it over to your trash can and toss it in there -- that's not a leash it's a "Popeil Pocket Fisherman."  Just like in the late 70's when the skateboard crazy hit and Orthopedic Surgeons got rich setting broken bones, Veteranarians are sounding the alarm about those things -- seems there's been a ridiculous increase in dogs getting hit by cars and bikes because there's no control over the animal when it decides to bolt -- like a hooked fish on a reel with the drag set way too loose.  That is, of course if you haven't trained your dog, and if you haven't, why?  Don't Blame. Train.  Buy a real leash.  Buy it from Xtreme Pet Products. ;)

Best,

DME

2,523 miles cross country in 35 hours with only one speeding ticket, 40 Years Later, Inc., Sunrises vs. Sunsets and working with my son......

Treasure Island, e-books, The Carolwood Pacific Railroad & David Mickey's Sandlot Bar & Grill

Dear Reader,

What do my slip covered Folio Society edition of Treasure Island, complete with the wondrous original Andrew Wyeth illustrations, e-books, Walt Disney's original backyard railroad the Carolwood Pacific, and David Mickey's Sandlot Bar & Grill have in common?

Absolutely nothing.  And everything.  Sort of...

Let's talk about books first.  I love books.  The way they look, the way they feel and what they represent, but mostly because of what they actually are: the repository of the sum total of all human experience.  There are those that make the argument that books are dead, that the internet is not only quickly becoming, but already has become the sole repository for the sum total of human knowledge and experience -- the modern day library of Alexandria or indeed that of Atlantis -- but can you touch it?  Sure you can see it, interact with it, maybe even in 3D, but can you feel it?  Can you smell it?  Can you actually feel the author's dramatic intent?  In other words a book is much more than the sum of it's raw materials parts.  As you turn the pages, as the story unfolds in your hands, the author, the storyteller is actually there with you, speaking to you, telling you the story.  On the internet, e-books, in other words, it unfolds before your eyes certainly, but not in your hands.  No, not even with a Kindle or a Nook.  Books are paper, letters in ink on pages your can touch.  E-books are not books.  They're digital representations of books in two dimensions.  Virtual books, but certainly not virtually books.

Now, having said that, I recently downloaded Kindle for Mac and bought my first e-book.  It's very very cool.  And I like it fine.  Really cool functions like book marking, the ability to jump instantly to anywhere in the material, etc...  But it's all removed from you the human.  It's there alright, all the information and words and the material, but think of it like this, do this little experiment, google "Chauvet Caves Southern France."

The cave paintings in Chauvet are the oldest known pictorial, that is to say "story," creations of humankind.  Now look at those drawings on your computer screen.  Neat, huh?  Now, get on a plane and go to The Chauvet Caves in Southern France and stand there are stare at the real thing on the cave walls.  Neat, huh?  No, it's transcendent.  It's astonishing.  It puts you in direct communication with who you are and where you came from and even give you some sense of why.

That's what books do.  That's why books exist.  That's why I love books.

So the point of all that is this, story.  Story matters.  If there is a single word to which the sum of human existence and experience can be reduced it is "story."  Story is memory.  Story is imagination.  Story is history.  Story is the who, what, where, when, how and why of all of us.

I look at the Chauvet cave paintings and I ask myself, "Why did this person, or people, 30,000 years ago feel the need to put those pictures there?  Those stories?"  Know what I think?  I think he/she they created it for a reason that is perhaps the single connective piece of sinew binding all of us, every human that has ever lived, lives or will live... and it is this...

... they did not want to be forgotten.

Our stories -- and every one of us has a story both unique and the same all at once -- are all we are.  I do not want to be forgotten.  Do you?

Yes, story matters.

So what do this have to do with Walt Disney's Carolwood Pacific backyard railroad and David Mickey's Sandlot Bar & Grill?  Well, story.  Disney's small scale fascination with miniature steam locomotives lead directly to a large scale kingdom.  Disneyland is the single greatest piece of architecture in the history of humankind.  It's form and it's function are perfectly integrated.  Why?  How did he do that?  Story.  He said a million times during the planning and building phases of the Magic Kingdom, make sure the story comes through.  It was his underlying principle to the entire idea.  It had never been done before, or had it?  Certainly not within the context of an amusement park, but obviously in movies, in books.  Yes, books.  Disneyland and Walt Disney World are books architecturally.  They are, like books, story made actual.  Story made to exist in the dimensions beyond the spoken word.

That's what I want to do with a bar and grill.  I have every meaningful prop and memorabilia from every movie I have ever directed. My little dream is to display it all within a Bar and Grill and theme the entire place loosely around baseball - more specifically The Sandlot.  Maybe with batting cages out back.  A monitors playing my movies.  Sell t-shits, caps, books, autographed stuff... sound egomaniacal?  On the contrary,  there's two reasons I want to have a place of my own like this where everybody can come and enjoy.

Because it's fun.

And because I don't want to be forgotten.

Scribes in ancient Egypt knew they were as important as great men and pharaohs; their writings could triumph over death, as in this elegy from a 19th-dynasty papyrus of about 1300 B.C.:

Be a scribe! Put it in you heart,

that your name shall exist like theirs!

The roll is more excellent than the carved stela.

A man has perished: his corpse is dust,

and his people have passed from the land;

it is a book which makes him remembered

in the mouth of the speaker.

So every time I think the task is too daunting, I look at Disneyland and Walt Disney World and, realizing  that "one guy" did that, just one man out of his own mind, I say to myself, "Shut up, Dave.  Just shut up and tell your story."

Thanks for reading and check back soon.

And sign up to follow on the right side of the main page.

Best,

DME