For the time being, this section is for prospective employers. The curious, of course, are also welcome. Below is a shortened version detailing my employability, followed by an expanded discourse on the matter.

I would like to join a creative team dedicated to strong storytelling and the collaborative process. I am primarily interested in video games, comic books, film, and television, anything that involves narrative structure. My strengths are character development, dialogue, brainstorming, lore, plot outlines, ardent research, communication, adaptability, punctuality, incidental humor, and a great beard.

My twenty-plus years in set decoration for film and television, as well as my comic book experience, should not be overlooked as inconsequential, but seen as an asset. Not only have I read and analyzed hundreds of scripts and been intimately involved in production, but working in set decoration has given me a new appreciation for the impact of small details. These seemingly minor components contribute to the sum of the whole and are an integral part of immersing the viewer in a created world. Film, television, and comics comprise a multitude of moving components which require cooperation and collaboration from many departments, all striving for the same purpose: to entertain.

My published work, while serving as a strong sample of my storytelling ability, is admittedly limited, as well as aged. It can be viewed here. It likely won’t be sufficient to encourage someone to hire me, and I get that. If you’re reading this far and in the market for a talented writer, I would urge you to read my (slightly) abridged treatise below on several principles of writing across mediums. Or feel free to drop me a message with any questions. I know it’s one thing to talk the talk and another thing entirely to be able to walk it. The only assurance I can give you is my confidence that I can write anything that is asked of me because I love the process and the execution, and I thrive on challenges. There is nothing more gratifying than seeing my hard work coalesce into an act of creation. It’s the magic of imagination; something I can offer and share with others.

And the longer version:

After twenty-plus years in film and television as an IATSE union member in set decoration, it’s time for a career change. It’s time to return to my first and constant passion: Writing.

I have been writing nearly all my life and I’m just a smidge over the 50 years mark. Okay, a couple smidges. I’ll spare you the reminisces of childhood scribblings, bad high school poetry and angsty punk lyrics. What really put me on the path was self-publishing a comic book in my early 20’s. When the high of creation wore off, there was a moment of self-realization: the cruel epiphany that it was pretty bad (so please don’t ask to see it.) This was a good thing, however, as it inspired me to go to college and study the craft of writing in a more disciplined manner.

Flash forward many years and I’m working in Hollywood, in Set Decoration, where I’ve been for over twenty years now. It wasn’t part of my plan, but life happens. You lose sight of your intended goal, replacing your dreams with pragmatism and security. Many of us creatives are prodigal children returning to the path we strayed from.

Even though it’s not writing, set decoration has given me the opportunity to learn about film and TV production firsthand. I have studied and analyzed while working on over one hundred projects. I’ve watched and listened to the directors, the cinematographers, the actors. I’ve eavesdropped on writers and read hundreds of scripts. And, of course, I watched a lot of movies, for pleasure and study.

 Eventually, I wrote a short screenplay, my first, that placed semi-finalist in a competition. Even though I didn’t win, my plan was to produce and direct the short myself with the aid of my many film industry friends and coworkers. I was ready to plunk down all my savings on the endeavor.

Before I could set things in motion, I was invited to collaborate on some comic book projects. Now, I grew up on comics. It’s in my DNA—my uncle actually read them to me while I was still in the crib. I worked in the retail aspect for nine years, giving me access to comics far beyond the superhero spectrum. It’s an art form that has informed my aesthetic more than any other, so it was a no-brainer for me.

This led to my first published story by Dark Horse Comics, and another soon after. My third was with Boom! Studios for Clive Barker’s Hellraiser franchise. These can be viewed on my Work Portfolio.

My work was very well received, and there looked to be many opportunities on the horizon. Then came painful lessons, professional and personal. Several projects stalled; there were broken promises and broken hearts. First one publishing deal fell through, then another, and another. An ambitious but ultimately aborted plan to self-publish led to burnout. I had to step away for a few years for my own mental health.

Despite my lack of additional published works in the intervening years, I never stopped writing or striving to improve my craft. I have been working on old and new personal projects if for nothing else than to get back into writing shape.

I realize I am a long shot hire, and it’s ok. If I don’t take the shot, I’ll never know. If someone doesn’t take a chance on me, I will continue to write, to learn, and improve. But if someone sees this, and my work, and decides to take that risk, they will absolutely not regret it. While my portfolio is small and has aged, it still stands as a strong example of my scripting abilities. Still, why should someone hire me with as little experience as I have?

I don’t consider myself inexperienced. Storytelling is storytelling, regardless of the medium. What is required beyond the skill to write an engrossing story is an understanding and ability to execute the required format. Each medium has its strengths and weaknesses; each can do things the others cannot.

A firm grasp on poetry and prose will strengthen your understanding of language, and how words work together to create cadence and engage the reader’s imagination. Entire worlds can be conjured, populated by living, breathing characters; the arcane alchemy of existence, human and otherwise, possessed of the same emotional qualities that make us who we are. All from the simple act of reading.

Scriptwriting, however, requires much more economical use of words. You do not have the luxury of long, descriptive passages or monologues afforded the novel. One must learn the skill of rendering text down to its raw essence, to reshape it with brevity, all without sacrificing the power of inspired language. Dialogue must be honed to razor conciseness, yet malleable enough to be infused with the unsaid as interpreted by an actor or illustrator.

Nowhere is this frugality more important than in comic books. The first time I received the note “too many words” from a letterer (the person responsible for adding text) was one of the most important lessons I’ve ever learned. Going back and trimming words was an arduous task. You can only fit so many words into a speech balloon or caption before you begin to infringe on the art, and I had taken the process for granted. The artist is your storytelling partner; you must trust their ability to convey meaning with images.

This holds true for any visual storytelling medium: TV, movies, video games, children’s books, et cetera. Despite words typically being the progenitor of a project, the audience’s first sensory engagement is what they see. But even good writing can be rendered impotent by a poorly delivered line, mediocre illustration, poor graphics, substandard production values, and whatnot. However, an audience often generously forgives or forgets a weak story when distracted by exciting action or powerful visuals, which can often be an intentional tactic by the creators. The goal should be for each creative element to collaborate seamlessly to deliver a balanced and rewarding experience for the audience.

I desire to work in an environment where such goals and experiences are the primary objective. While I would be happy to lend my storytelling abilities wherever they would be valued, I also want to obtain new skills and knowledge. Writing video games greatly appeals to me because it a medium in which I have zero practical experience—other than playing for forty-five years. I enjoy games across the spectrum, but as a writer I always seek out an engaging story. As with all mediums that interest me, I am compelled to analyze the storytelling.  The problems that plague video game narrative are much the same as any other medium: blatant exposition; unnecessary dialogue; abusive suspension of disbelief; and an underwhelming climax. There are more, but those are the most egregious. A skilled writer would know how to resolve those issues, but they often go unaddressed, and it makes me wonder: where was the writer?

To be fair, sometimes a writer’s hands are tied, and the narrative is at the mercy of powers that be. Another reason (and I may be overstepping my bounds here) is that often the writers only exist as writers within that medium, or something structurally similar. This isn’t to say they aren’t talented or skilled, but rather their ability has been shaped within a homogenous environment that is often determined by a commercial formula for success. Screenwriting courses, for example, teach common methodology and structure to which writer’s feel they must adhere. Many seem to forget that the real value in such instruction is that one should know the rules before setting out to break them.

The main challenge for video game writers, in my humble, inexperienced opinion, is that gameplay will always be the priority; the story must conform to the player verbs. This is a challenge that fascinates me; I want to learn how it’s done and participate in the process. The writer must bind story elements to the multiple actions and do so within contextual settings. What’s important to me as a player is when I engage in a character action, I want it to feel more like a reactive thought than pushing a button. This helps me to identify as the character and therefore deepen my immersion into the story. One cannot simply create a good story and expect others to construct the gameplay around it. The story serves the gameplay, not the other way around; one dovetailing into the other through creative collaboration and respect for each and every integrant.

The recent Hollywood strikes (along with the COVID lockdown) made me more appreciative of the role video games can play in bringing a bit of joy and gratification to our daily lives. The sense of community, too, can be an important socializing factor for those who struggle with such things. There were days during the pandemic and the strikes when video games were what pulled me out of the doldrums. It’s what any artist strives for: to affect their audience in a positive manner.

While my published samples are strong, my skills and abilities are more than what you see on paper. What I lack in practical experience I more than make up in my understanding and execution of storytelling mechanics in different mediums. I know that I can write anything that is asked of me because that is my passion.

“We work in the dark. We do what we can. We give what we have. Our doubt is our passion, and our passion our task. The rest is the madness of art.”  —Henry James