It's happening. JPA is being considered for representation by an agency. They want to see a full manuscript and it's the closest I've ever been to getting actual representation.
The problem? I have to write 80,000 words in a couple of months.
So guess what people? While I work part-time and figure out my big move, I have to write 60,000 words and get it edited. This is gonna be insane. Will keep you posted.
See ya,
Zach
EDIT: It's now March, and the book is over halfway done! Over 40k on a 64k- planned manuscript! The story has changed significantly since draft 1, but it looks gorgeous. After a few more intense weeks and one final readthrough, we'll have a finished manuscript ready for the world! Hang tight. This is going to be a crazy ride.
The Rough Draft
Hi there. My name is Zach. I'm now an author and this is where you'll see my stories and stuff. Have a great day!
Thursday, January 31, 2019
Tuesday, October 9, 2018
Jet Pack Angel: The Newest Interceptor
Hello again dear viewers,
I finally got the title name!
JET PACK ANGEL!
It works, no?
The idea at the moment is to write a vigilante story where a girl in New Amsterdam dons a superhero persona in order to clear her sister's name. That's as much as I have so far. I'll have to explore more of the plot later, as I'm still working on Point of View.
Let's see where this story goes.
-Zach
I finally got the title name!
JET PACK ANGEL!
It works, no?
The idea at the moment is to write a vigilante story where a girl in New Amsterdam dons a superhero persona in order to clear her sister's name. That's as much as I have so far. I'll have to explore more of the plot later, as I'm still working on Point of View.
Let's see where this story goes.
-Zach
REWRITING Point of View
Hello everyone,
It's been a while, but Point of View is officially being rewritten again. What a crazy turnaround this time, huh? It only took me a couple of months this time! Sure beats having a rough draft on sale for two years (at least in hindsight it is).
Anyways, here's the new synopsis:
As Hollywood advances for a new generation, a seasoned veteran of the arts must embrace change, or face obscurity, in the world that he loves.
Second draft will begin soon, as I'm still working the kinks out of the plot and characters. This will be the one- the story that gets me somewhere, I hope. As always, we'll have to wait and see.
All of the best,
Zach Neuman
It's been a while, but Point of View is officially being rewritten again. What a crazy turnaround this time, huh? It only took me a couple of months this time! Sure beats having a rough draft on sale for two years (at least in hindsight it is).
Anyways, here's the new synopsis:
As Hollywood advances for a new generation, a seasoned veteran of the arts must embrace change, or face obscurity, in the world that he loves.
Second draft will begin soon, as I'm still working the kinks out of the plot and characters. This will be the one- the story that gets me somewhere, I hope. As always, we'll have to wait and see.
All of the best,
Zach Neuman
Monday, July 30, 2018
A Burst for Point of View
CONTENT WARNING: Language
This was a sporadic piece of writing from the past week, inspired by the song "Dying in LA" by Panic! At the Disco.
I hope you enjoy it.
..................................................................................................................................................................
“LAX seemed less crowded that day. I was gathering my baggage after my flight from Shanghai- dealing with some bigwigs there and getting some r&r with Stephanie- when I saw a young girl in designer jeans helping an elderly man with a suitcase. Make no mistake, this was a starlet.”
“How did you know?”
“She had the bright eyes, the gentle moves, and the glowing smile. She had dyed her hair and wore a trenchcoat in the summer like a diva.”
“Poor kid.”
“Yeah, I know. I left my bags and strode to her as she waited for a cab.”
“What did you say?”
“What I tell them every time. After some small talk, y’know ‘Welcome to LA. Where did you come from? What brings you here?’”
“Obviously, she said Hollywood, right?”
“Yep. She said how she wanted to be a star on the wall of fame, y’know, since all of the spots on the walk were taken.”
“And you told her what?”
“I told her to turn around and leave. She looked at me like I had insulted her, I swear to god.
‘How could I go home? No one else did, and their dreams came true! Look at Emma Watson, Cate Blanchette, Katherine Hepburn!’
“She really said those actresses' names?”
“I swear to you, that’s what she said. I knew there was no way I could convince her, so I watched as she took a cab and told the driver to go to Hollywood.
“A few months later, I was walking out of Reverie Midnight, one of the new restaurants on Rodeo, after wining and dining some new producers on the scene from Venezuela Nueva, when I saw her. Her glowing smile was hidden behind a subtle pout and her bright eyes dulled. I grabbed her a cab home and gave her my card, not before writing two words on the back.”
“What did you write?”
“'You tried'.”
“Oh, you’re so sappy, writing down a platitude like that.”
“Sappiness works in some cases, my friend. Next day I saw her as she tried to trespass into my office. I invited her in.”
“This was when you worked for Apacia, the talent agency?”
“No, later on. This was when I was at Babylon Pictures as an EP. My office was in a discreet building since I hated dealing with most of the pricks in and around the office. Anyways, I let her in and mascara covered her cheeks.
“She sits down in the chair opposite of me, a box of tissues next to her, and proclaims ‘This city is killing me’.”
“I looked at her and said ‘I know. I can see it all over your face. Where did you fly in from?’
“‘Tuscon, Arizona’, she says. I noticed that she wore the same dress as the day we met, for some reason.
“‘There’s a flight leaving in 2 hours from LAX. I’ll call a cab for you.' I told her, 'Don’t worry about paying for it. Just get in the cab and tell the front desk to bill my card. Remember, just get in the cab.’
“My mistake was not escorting her out. Granted, we were trying to get Venezuelan producers involved in pictures, and one of them called out of the blue, so I had to take the call.
“She never got into the cab.”
“How do you know?”
“I wasn’t billed, and that girl couldn’t get two nickels to rub together. She never got there.”
“You ever see her again?”
“Yeah. A year later. Saw her going into a strip club.”
“A male one?”
“Female one. She was going in to ‘entertain’!”
“What happened?”
“She told me she got swept up in a shady movie deal. Guy had told her he could guarantee her an Oscar nomination in her first movie. She signed on that night after she saw a flyer for auditions outside my office. She didn’t know it was for five pictures on a huge budget with fourth-rate producers. The films wouldn’t start up until the budget was secured.”
“How much?”
“Twenty million.”
“Jesus, why that much for five indie films?!”
“That was for all of the films at once. She never actually told me what the name of the studio head was because I would have hired all of the lawyers I could to wring their throats. I’m sure she’s not the only one caught in that net of theirs. And the nomination? They used the small loophole in the Oscars consideration laws.”
“The ‘play in one theater in Los Angeles for a week’ clause?”
“Bingo. She found out afterward and got heartbroken. Worst yet, she couldn’t get out of the contract unless she never wanted to work in Hollywood again. The douchebag wouldn’t release the contracts even after two months of inactivity.”
“That bastard.”
“Fuckin a. I offered to hire a lawyer to look over the contract, but she shrunk back. I asked her why she couldn’t leave, but she barely had an answer. She tried to convince me that her 3.8 GPA from Arizona State University with a smattering of side roles on her reel was enough for her to be cast. How could I tell her that luck is a currency around here, that status is everything, and that connections are almost impossible to cross onto once they’re built?
“The last time I saw her, which was a few weeks ago, I was walking the streets of Beverly Hills like they were old friends. Across the street, I saw her, as headstrong as a porcelain statue, followed by a camera guy and another man, presumably the director. The camera was pointed at her ass. Her eyes looked glazed over behind sunken cheeks.
“Michael, how can I say that’s unfair? Which parts can we blame for this injustice? Should we blame the producers for demanding a return on investment, the casting directors for picking only the best actors, the schools for taking every measure to fill their classrooms or the actors themselves for dreaming too high?
“I blame none of them. Hell, they may be selfish and ambitious, but they are all human. I blame the cities- LA and New York, the Broadways and the Rodeos. They put themselves on pedestals and proceeded to infect the youth and poison the earth with smog and rat-filled subways. Amidst all of that filth, they still attract the pure ones and send them to their doom.
“If people just stopped believing in the myths that we were gods, that film was the new tales of legend, and understood that all we did was entertain people for a short time, the industry would crumble faster than my kid’s toothpick bridge. Actors would have to take odd jobs to get by, not make more money than teachers and doctors.
“Yet I feel like it’s changing now, my friend. We were the gods, and now there’s a growing generation of atheists. The only fear I have is what happens when Hollywood reemerges somewhere else, and the pit opens up again to swallow the angels whole."
..................................................................................................................................................................
“LAX seemed less crowded that day. I was gathering my baggage after my flight from Shanghai- dealing with some bigwigs there and getting some r&r with Stephanie- when I saw a young girl in designer jeans helping an elderly man with a suitcase. Make no mistake, this was a starlet.”
“How did you know?”
“She had the bright eyes, the gentle moves, and the glowing smile. She had dyed her hair and wore a trenchcoat in the summer like a diva.”
“Poor kid.”
“Yeah, I know. I left my bags and strode to her as she waited for a cab.”
“What did you say?”
“What I tell them every time. After some small talk, y’know ‘Welcome to LA. Where did you come from? What brings you here?’”
“Obviously, she said Hollywood, right?”
“Yep. She said how she wanted to be a star on the wall of fame, y’know, since all of the spots on the walk were taken.”
“And you told her what?”
“I told her to turn around and leave. She looked at me like I had insulted her, I swear to god.
‘How could I go home? No one else did, and their dreams came true! Look at Emma Watson, Cate Blanchette, Katherine Hepburn!’
“She really said those actresses' names?”
“I swear to you, that’s what she said. I knew there was no way I could convince her, so I watched as she took a cab and told the driver to go to Hollywood.
“A few months later, I was walking out of Reverie Midnight, one of the new restaurants on Rodeo, after wining and dining some new producers on the scene from Venezuela Nueva, when I saw her. Her glowing smile was hidden behind a subtle pout and her bright eyes dulled. I grabbed her a cab home and gave her my card, not before writing two words on the back.”
“What did you write?”
“'You tried'.”
“Oh, you’re so sappy, writing down a platitude like that.”
“Sappiness works in some cases, my friend. Next day I saw her as she tried to trespass into my office. I invited her in.”
“This was when you worked for Apacia, the talent agency?”
“No, later on. This was when I was at Babylon Pictures as an EP. My office was in a discreet building since I hated dealing with most of the pricks in and around the office. Anyways, I let her in and mascara covered her cheeks.
“She sits down in the chair opposite of me, a box of tissues next to her, and proclaims ‘This city is killing me’.”
“I looked at her and said ‘I know. I can see it all over your face. Where did you fly in from?’
“‘Tuscon, Arizona’, she says. I noticed that she wore the same dress as the day we met, for some reason.
“‘There’s a flight leaving in 2 hours from LAX. I’ll call a cab for you.' I told her, 'Don’t worry about paying for it. Just get in the cab and tell the front desk to bill my card. Remember, just get in the cab.’
“My mistake was not escorting her out. Granted, we were trying to get Venezuelan producers involved in pictures, and one of them called out of the blue, so I had to take the call.
“She never got into the cab.”
“How do you know?”
“I wasn’t billed, and that girl couldn’t get two nickels to rub together. She never got there.”
“You ever see her again?”
“Yeah. A year later. Saw her going into a strip club.”
“A male one?”
“Female one. She was going in to ‘entertain’!”
“What happened?”
“She told me she got swept up in a shady movie deal. Guy had told her he could guarantee her an Oscar nomination in her first movie. She signed on that night after she saw a flyer for auditions outside my office. She didn’t know it was for five pictures on a huge budget with fourth-rate producers. The films wouldn’t start up until the budget was secured.”
“How much?”
“Twenty million.”
“Jesus, why that much for five indie films?!”
“That was for all of the films at once. She never actually told me what the name of the studio head was because I would have hired all of the lawyers I could to wring their throats. I’m sure she’s not the only one caught in that net of theirs. And the nomination? They used the small loophole in the Oscars consideration laws.”
“The ‘play in one theater in Los Angeles for a week’ clause?”
“Bingo. She found out afterward and got heartbroken. Worst yet, she couldn’t get out of the contract unless she never wanted to work in Hollywood again. The douchebag wouldn’t release the contracts even after two months of inactivity.”
“That bastard.”
“Fuckin a. I offered to hire a lawyer to look over the contract, but she shrunk back. I asked her why she couldn’t leave, but she barely had an answer. She tried to convince me that her 3.8 GPA from Arizona State University with a smattering of side roles on her reel was enough for her to be cast. How could I tell her that luck is a currency around here, that status is everything, and that connections are almost impossible to cross onto once they’re built?
“The last time I saw her, which was a few weeks ago, I was walking the streets of Beverly Hills like they were old friends. Across the street, I saw her, as headstrong as a porcelain statue, followed by a camera guy and another man, presumably the director. The camera was pointed at her ass. Her eyes looked glazed over behind sunken cheeks.
“Michael, how can I say that’s unfair? Which parts can we blame for this injustice? Should we blame the producers for demanding a return on investment, the casting directors for picking only the best actors, the schools for taking every measure to fill their classrooms or the actors themselves for dreaming too high?
“I blame none of them. Hell, they may be selfish and ambitious, but they are all human. I blame the cities- LA and New York, the Broadways and the Rodeos. They put themselves on pedestals and proceeded to infect the youth and poison the earth with smog and rat-filled subways. Amidst all of that filth, they still attract the pure ones and send them to their doom.
“If people just stopped believing in the myths that we were gods, that film was the new tales of legend, and understood that all we did was entertain people for a short time, the industry would crumble faster than my kid’s toothpick bridge. Actors would have to take odd jobs to get by, not make more money than teachers and doctors.
“Yet I feel like it’s changing now, my friend. We were the gods, and now there’s a growing generation of atheists. The only fear I have is what happens when Hollywood reemerges somewhere else, and the pit opens up again to swallow the angels whole."
...................................................................................................................
Let me know what you think in the comments below. I hope to post here more often so be on the lookout for more content.
Have a great week!
-Zach
Saturday, April 21, 2018
So my stories are coming together again...
Dear Readers,
It seems like these small posts are going better than expected. Some traction is better than none.
Anyways, Peter Pan Among the Shadows has a lot of the story finished, at least for the next couple of chapters. I have a few theories for Peter Pan and Neverland, so expect some of those in the newest rewrite.
Surprisingly, Pokemon: Kanto Champions (Red Version) is almost done! It's a fairly basic story that just exploded with personality and other ideas for characters. Red is a disgraced trainer who must fight to clear his name, Ray is changing the way Pokemon moves work, and Delia must take control over her pokemon if she wants to succeed.
Interceptor is getting renamed, with ideas sparse and far in between. One idea is to name her like a secret identity in real life, like with another name or something. It could work, but for now, I need to see what Caitlin thinks.
That's it for a recap. Let me know if I forgot anything. Thanks and tell you all about it soon!
-Zach
It seems like these small posts are going better than expected. Some traction is better than none.
Anyways, Peter Pan Among the Shadows has a lot of the story finished, at least for the next couple of chapters. I have a few theories for Peter Pan and Neverland, so expect some of those in the newest rewrite.
Surprisingly, Pokemon: Kanto Champions (Red Version) is almost done! It's a fairly basic story that just exploded with personality and other ideas for characters. Red is a disgraced trainer who must fight to clear his name, Ray is changing the way Pokemon moves work, and Delia must take control over her pokemon if she wants to succeed.
Interceptor is getting renamed, with ideas sparse and far in between. One idea is to name her like a secret identity in real life, like with another name or something. It could work, but for now, I need to see what Caitlin thinks.
That's it for a recap. Let me know if I forgot anything. Thanks and tell you all about it soon!
-Zach
Sunday, April 15, 2018
So I Wrote a lot today...
On the way to the Botanical Gardens today, I just decided to write some more for pokemon today.
In the end, I wrote more today than I ever thought possible.
Thirty-six HUNDRED words. That's the most I've ever done in a long time!
I still can't believe it's been done.
The story is here if you're interested: https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_preview.php?storyid=10831843&chapter=1
Thanks for sticking with me so far and tell you more stories soon!
-Zach
In the end, I wrote more today than I ever thought possible.
Thirty-six HUNDRED words. That's the most I've ever done in a long time!
I still can't believe it's been done.
The story is here if you're interested: https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_preview.php?storyid=10831843&chapter=1
Thanks for sticking with me so far and tell you more stories soon!
-Zach
Monday, April 9, 2018
So "Interceptor" Was Taken...
We'll have to totally rename the main characters, which isn't as bad as you think. It's a complete blessing in disguise since the name "Gevra" didn't fit the Scottish family of New Amsterdam at all.
So what next? Interceptor will be getting a completely new name and new main character. As we remake the story from the ground up, I've begun to enjoy calling her Caitlin Bridget MacCuaig (pronounced M-kaig). At least her nickname "Caity" (pronounced Katy) still exists. Will keep you posted on the full story as it develops, but for the moment I'm glad this part of the story is being squared away.
We'll see where this all goes,
Zach
So what next? Interceptor will be getting a completely new name and new main character. As we remake the story from the ground up, I've begun to enjoy calling her Caitlin Bridget MacCuaig (pronounced M-kaig). At least her nickname "Caity" (pronounced Katy) still exists. Will keep you posted on the full story as it develops, but for the moment I'm glad this part of the story is being squared away.
We'll see where this all goes,
Zach
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