I had a book of essays and photography traditionally published in 2026. I loved the experience.
What I didn't love was not owning the work... or the relationship with my readers.
So we're doing something different.
Welcome to The Riot.
This is a fascinating time capsule. One thing I notice is that, given they have put everyone in essentially the same shirt (different colors) and jeans, it seems as if the only place where they have used wardrobe to help define character is with their shoes.
Is walking up the steps backwards so that the monster in the basement can't get you a universal childhood memory for anyone who grew up in a house with a basement or cellar? or is it just me?
@MichelleFaithLu jus now realizing I only half answered your question. My favorite is the one I'm currently writing about. Happened in the basement of the old house I grew up in
@MichelleFaithLu Awesome, thanks for the kind words. And yeah I was writing a short story based on an experience I had as a kid and it occurred to me that almost everyone I know has a UFO and a Ghost story hidden in their back pocket. 😂
Sam Neill's clumsy removal of his sunglasses so he can better wonder at the dinosaurs and the way he reaches down and physically turns Laura Dern's head with his hand becomes that much more remarkable when you consider that in reality, he was looking at nothing at all.
Anyone remember "Farrell's"? they would fill a giant vat with something like 20 scoops of ice cream, cover it in condiments and whipped cream and two guys would run around with it suspended on twin poles they carried on their shoulders while an alarm blared. What an odd artifact.
Interesting how terminology suddenly springs into existence in the story business. Before you know it, we're all using it like it's the most normal thing ever. As if these are normal words we've been saying all your lives. Recent examples: "sticky", "buzzy", "romantasy", "cosy"
It's interesting how little things can become the inspiration for big stories. For me, Owl Boy was sparked into existence by a wall I walked by dozens of times on the edge of the French Quarter in New Orleans... one day I stopped and asked myself what might be behind it