Dread Orange is the boiled down bathtub gin of my inner workings, aiming to warp your neurons a few degrees off their normal axes.
 
I plan to do this by slinging exotic, nutrient-filled content directly through your eyeballs and occasionally through your ears. You’re offering your valuable time and mental space, so I want to barter well in return.
 
Want is an evolving ingredient in life. In middle and high school I wanted to be an FBI Agent, and so joined the Tulsa Police Explorers. In university I wanted to be a computer programmer and then a 3D animator (and part-time screenplay writer), so studied at the Academy of Art University in San Francisco. And yet I’ve ended up in Tokyo teaching English. Never part of the plan, but turns out it’s a good fit. Pro tip: Enjoy the zigzags in life because it’s in the corners and curves you get the best views.

Throughout all of those wants, two things have never changed: I’ve been an avid reader and writer. Everything else has been facilitating these underlying themes of my character arc. Storytelling is a long, spun-out, challenging, and yet immensely satisfying road. Even as you read this, synapses are pouring plot lines and bystanders are passing out from the sweet, sweet fumes.
 
I’d like you to join me as I build the Centricity Cycle, a post-post-apocalyptic series full of thought-catalyzing characters, electric espionage, corporate doom-bringers, and political machinations.
 
From Dread Orange you'll get:

• Musings on relevant books/technology/news
• Updates on my work(s) in progress
  
• For writers: advice to save you from the pain I experienced (and am experiencing)
• Moments of life in Japan & worldly adventures

 
Thanks for taking the journey with me and please share my content with those who’d also enjoy the ride.

I went through several openings for this post, and couldn’t settle on any of them…

Fear of failure is one mean bastard. It’s not a weight you can simply chuck into the abyss and be done with. It’s got the tenacity of those creepy dolls from horror movies that keep coming back no matter how many times you burn them on a pile of angel hair.

Brilliant ideas never rust if you don’t get them wet.

Planning is awesome right up until it’s burying your corpse in the backyard under so many good intentions.

…And I noticed I was stalling by trying to come up with a poetic way to describe stalling. No more. I’m strapped into a giant slingshot; time to stop cranking it back and just—

... a side quest to my ultimate goal of becoming a master visual effects and 3D animation artist. Our assignment: write a 10 page screenplay treatment.

The PI is stumped. Weird events ensue. I vaguely recall a creepy little girl (because of course) in a stairwell and a portal to another dimension.

(I remember neither the author’s name nor the magazine it appeared in, but if this sparks a memory, please let me know in the comments.)

Enigmatic and disquieting, the story provided more than enough fodder to hash out those 10 pages. I received good feedback from the teacher, put more flesh on its bones and ... nothing. Life went on. For six months. That’s a long time when you’re 22.

But the story wouldn’t leave me alone. It watched me from the computer lab shadows. Followed me down Post Street and past Divas to my 2am gym sessions. Its presence was amplified by my growing awareness of all things Japanese, sparked by friends and the culture stew that is San Francisco.

I began with great passion ... and unrealistic expectations. As I clicked my way through thousands and thousands of frames, adjusting control arms, deformation, and timing, I came to realize, painfully, that my love of the end product did not extend to the process.

Animation, like all jobs, has its moments of slog. The surrounding bureaucracy also takes more than a few pounds of flesh. Movie/game release dates are nearly impossible to change, so deadlines must be met, whatever the cost to artists’ evening plans. Clients, even well-meaning ones, are sometimes not versed in how the technology works or what it’s capable of, so their requests can be vague to the point of abstraction. Budgets and plans change, casting aside hours of completed product. And on and on into the void.

But when it all works out, and a vision comes to life, the results are oh so beautiful. Worth all the sweat and tears and caffeine-induced shakes. Some of my former classmates have gone on to help bring major productions to life. While I envy them for that, I don’t regret going in a different direction.

I started writing the sequel to Happy Home in South Korea, titled Fluffy Bunny Kill Force, and finished it shortly after relocating to Tokyo. This book sees my heroines tackle the underbelly of the Japanese music industry and their pop idol assembly lines.

It took me 4 years to write the 2 books. As of now, maybe 50 people have read them. Not entirely the books’ fault. My “marketing strategy” consisted of my parents telling their friends, and me working it into conversations with cute girls: “Hey, I’m writer ... No, sorry, they’re not translated into Korean.”

The Quoddy Tides, a local newspaper in Maine, did review The Happy Home Death Machine, comparing it (very lightly) to The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I still do a little dance over that coup. You can read it here. Pro tip: savor every victory, no matter how small it is, or how big you get.

But it was too late. By the time I’d had this epiphany, I’d already moved my mind to a new city, one of my own creation: the city-sphere of Naion.

In a way, it is Tokyo. It is Hong Kong, it is Istanbul and Brussels. Strained through a cybernetic fever dream. My playground, a character in its own right. A place which has seeded an entire series.

Come on in. Don’t mind the smell of burning ozone and street food, you’ll learn to love it. For your safety and enjoyment, keep your eyes open.