Light - Death NoteLight Yagami (夜神 月, Yagami Raito), also known as Kira (キラ) in a really good image by sakimichan on DeviantArt
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Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Death Note - Light Yagami
Light - Death NoteLight Yagami (夜神 月, Yagami Raito), also known as Kira (キラ) in a really good image by sakimichan on DeviantArt
Early
The first morning in Far-Away Mountains, I woke up early, since my body was still on eastern standard time. I put on my sneakers, grabbed my camera, and went out quietly out the front door to explore. A mist was just clearing from the meadow, and grasses brushed the hems of my sweatpants until they were wet.
I followed a dirt road that wound through the woods, past a little pond and then a woodpile. The ferns and skunk cabbage were huge, and I’ve never seen such lush mosses. Some trees were completely covered in green, as if they’d been gift-wrapped by a leprechaun.
By the time I got back to the ranch, the sun was shining through the mist, and the clouds were parting to show the mountains. Lilting Voice was making coffee, and the scent greeted me as I entered the kitchen where my friends gathered gradually, everyone hungry for breakfast and conversation.
View from the deck
From the deck, we looked out over a lawn, a meadow, a forest, and mountains that glittered with snow. The mountains would disappear when clouds moved in, and then appear later in the day when the sun shone.
We cooked together, ate together, and hiked together — nine women from nine different states gathered for a retreat that included some creative writing, an intense discussion, a book of poetry, and about 6 pounds of peanut butter.
In conversation with...
BILL KIRTON
In 3 words describe The Figurehead.
Love and death.
Now you have another 21 words - give us some detail of the plot.
In Aberdeen in 1840, a shipwright dies and John Grant carves a figurehead, solves a mystery and starts falling in love.
Do you ever write naked?
I live in Aberdeen, ergo naked writing = hypothermia. Anyway, why let reality spoil my mental image of myself as a Lord Byron figure (without the bad leg)?
Why 1840?
I wanted it to be 19th century, near the Romantics because my PhD was on Victor Hugo’s theatre and I like all that excessive Romanticism stuff anyway. Narrowing it down was easy because Aberdeen Library had an ordnance survey map of the city in 1840. Then I discovered that the Scottish Maid, the first ship to have a clipper bow, was designed and launched in Aberdeen in 1839, exactly 100 years before my birthday. And sail was being threatened by steam, and a new-fangled thing called a propeller was being demonstrated, and emigration to the Americas, Australia and New Zealand was big business – so it’s a great time. (And there’s no DNA or CSI to worry about, either.)
Suits me. I hate all that DNA malarkey. If I want a science manual I’ll go to the non-fiction department thankyouverymuch. You've published crime and now with The Figurehead there appears to be an element of romance. You going soft on us?
This harsh exterior hides a gentle, tender soul. Anyway, The Figurehead is still a crime novel. It just so happened that the carver, John Grant, and half his model, Helen Anderson, started fancying one another so who was I to stop them? I think it’s a shame that we have to be genre-labelled, anyway. It’s inhibiting. I only became a crime writer by accident.
You have a bad leg? Awwww. What other faults would you like to tell us about?
No, no. Byron had the bad leg – club foot. It hurt like eff, so he drank hock and soda water to take his mind off it. (Works for me.)
As for my own faults, my first impulse was to claim that I’m almost flawless (‘almost’ because my generosity, compassion and modesty are excessive). But it’s hard to signal something as a joke in writing, and self-deprecation doesn’t always work. I was once very embarrassed in the USA where I directed As you like it for the URI Theater Department. After the last show, they gave me some lovely, thoughtful gifts and, in my thank you speech, I said the show had been wonderful thanks to the director. They all applauded and agreed but no doubt thought I was a wanker when all I wanted was to get a laugh.
So let’s see – there’s selfishness, laziness, occasional gluttony (eating whole tubs of Ben and Jerry’s as I watch football), impatience with politicians and an extraordinarily low attention span. Those are just a few off the top of my head – interview my wife to get the rest.
I called her. She says she’s going to keep all the good stuff until you have shuffled off this mortal coil, and then make a fortune.
When it comes to violence in fiction how far should you go?
This is a perennial problem, isn’t it? I remember writing a blog about it way back and I’m still puzzled by our appetite for (or tolerance of) it. It’s clear that lots of readers expect to find a bit of gore dripping off the pages. One psychologist/critic (can’t remember who) said crime writers ‘stylise’ murder, make it acceptable by turning it into something other than a grotesque invasion of one person by another. I don’t buy that. I think we’re satisfying some incomprehensible but very real appetite. We rubber-neck at accident scenes, the papers dwell on the gruesome details of stabbings, rape, torture, murder. Unlike with their politics, they’re not forming our tastes and opinions, they’re meeting a demand. I don’t imagine for a moment that many of us would be capable of doing any of those things ourselves but the fascination with them is definitely there.
Having said all that, I have a nagging concern that we don’t really know what we’re unleashing when we invent our nasty episodes. The arguments about video games apply to our violent scenes, too – copycat killings, kids using knives so casually, and the whole excitement and glamour of violence. It’s fine for me to sit here, sun shining on the garden outside, and decide to eviscerate someone with a blunt breadknife and wrap up the bits in cling-film. My imagination can conceive of it but I’d never be able to do it. But we don’t all share the same morality and there may well be readers who find such words and images ‘cool’. That makes me shudder more than the fictional gore-fest.
See question above and tell us what you think about any responsibility that the author might have...
I’ve sort of answered that already (even if it’s by a ‘don’t know’). But I think there’s another angle on it. Just as writers get caught up with their characters and their autonomy, so they get dragged into their motives and the situations in which they find themselves. In a way, it’s possible that the writer’s an accomplice but the real responsibility lies with the character.
OK, I need to explain that. When I wrote my first procedural, I decided it had to have some nastiness because that sells books. That sounds glib, irresponsible maybe because the scene I wrote, towards the end of the book, is quite shocking. But I didn’t sit here dreaming up torments – they all came straight out of the character involved and the motives behind the violence. It was a necessary part of that person’s psyche and essential to the plot. Mind you, it still didn’t stop my agent at the time happily introducing me to a friend as ‘a nice man who has very nasty thoughts’. When asked to do readings or give talks, I never read such passages, though, and I actually find them disturbing when I look at them now. So the writer in me writes them and enjoys the process, but the reader in me finds them hard to take. Over to you, Mr. therapist.
Hey, I’m not your therapist, dude. Although I am available for a fee and therefore happy to make some shit up to earn it...and what responsibility does someone like yourself have who is, and I quote "almost flawless"?
I knew I shouldn’t have given you that whip to beat me with (see what I did there?). It’s actually scary to think that what I write could have a consequence other than just entertaining the reader, and nowadays I don’t exploit the commercial potential of violence at all. There was a rape in my second book (which I rewrote after my wife read and commented on it and gave me insights into the victim’s responses which I hadn’t had myself). Again, it’s nasty and again it’s necessary. Luckily, when the late Susanna Yager reviewed it in the Sunday Telegraph, she acknowledged that it wasn’t ‘there to titillate, but to carry the story forward and ultimately bring about the climax to a thoughtful and thought-provoking book’. I think if I were to discover that something I wrote provoked or informed actual violence to a real person, I’d feel very guilty. So I acknowledge the responsibility – and yet I still go on writing that sort of thing when it’s necessary. Is that me copping out? Come on, you’ve reviewed umpteen crime novels, you tell me.
I like what Stephen King says about a contract between the writer and the reader and the writer’s duty to write about his/ her character with honesty. Anywho, this isn’t about me. For once. So...moving on...when giving writerly advice, Oliver Wendell Holmes said that when writing about a frog you should inhabit your frog-ness. How do you inhabit your frogness?
The temptation to discuss my genuine Francophilia is strong but I’ll resist it. One response that your question does provoke, though, is that doing something and thinking about how you do it are distinct things. On one hand, you’re the writer – absorbed in the work, unaware of self or the passage of time, part of the fiction that’s being created – on the other, you’re stepping back from the process, analysing it objectively in full awareness of who you are and what your aims and intentions are too. So my answer is that I definitely do ‘inhabit my frogness’ but if I start trying to say how I do it, I might be inventing something which wasn’t necessarily true. (Interestingly – to me anyway – this answer reflects what I was saying about my attitudes to violence as writer and reader – the writer is wrapped up in it, part of it and can therefore do it; the reader is further from it, more capable of the necessary objectivity you need for analysis.)
Talking about Stephen King - we were, people. Keep up. What was the best piece of writing advice you ever received?
I’ll tell you a secret. At school and university, I used to write the occasional letter to the editor and even an odd article here and there. I was too idle to actually become a student journalist or anything and writing was just for fun. So the aim was rarely serious but a couple of times I got very enthusiastic responses from teachers, lecturers, even profs. And yet no one ever suggested that I should look for a career involving writing. With hindsight, it was the obvious route for me to follow.
So some people said nice things but I don’t think I can pinpoint a specific piece of writing advice given to me personally. As a student, reading old critics such as G Wilson Knight and others made me realise for the first time how writing can have so many layers of significance (not that I’m claiming that for my stuff). And the ‘rules’ of Elmore Leonard are brilliant and spot on. I only ever give two bits of advice myself – read what you’ve written aloud to test for rhythms, gaps, mistakes, etc. and cut, cut, cut.
Are you a plotter or a pantser (as in, you fly by the seat of your pants - and if you know where that expression comes from, do tell)
As part of my slavish desire to please you, I checked the expression and it’s probably British from WW1 – planes with few or unreliable instruments, so the pilot made his judgements on how the aircraft was moving, shuddering etc. – all of which he felt through his chair. But for once, your question’s easy to answer. I’m a rudimentary plotter but, once the words start appearing, the pantser takes over. I have a general overall idea of where I want to get to but I let the characters take me there (or somewhere else if that’s what they decide). I even laugh at their jokes. Maybe authors should all be sectioned to protect society.
I’m liking this slavish desire you have to pleasing me. Now...while I come up with ways in which I can take advantage of this tell us all how to buy a copy of The Figurehead and what formats it is in.
The formats take me into new territory. It’s the first time I’ve had a book published simultaneously as e-book, e-serial and paperback. It’s already available in the USA but an ISBN number glitch has delayed it in the UK. I’m assured that’ll be cleared up very quickly. People who registered with Virtual Tales (the publishers) get the first 4 chapters free and a 40% discount on the cover price. I don’t know if that offer’s still open but all you have to do is send a blank email to figurehead@virtualtales.com to find out. The relevant web page is at http://www.virtualtales.com/Mystery/Crime/Figurehead.html. Most of all, it would be nice if readers went into their local bookshop and, if it’s not on the shelves, expressed, in very loud voices and at great length, their amazement at such a shocking lapse on the part of the manager.
Like this, people... “ohmyGOD, you DON’T have a copy of The Figurehead by Bill Kirton?
If what you have read here doesn't slake your desire for all things Bill, he can be found on his blog and the link is on the right-hand side of this page. No. The other right. Or you could post a question in the comments section and as he, by his own admission, is a devoted fan of May Contain Nuts, he will spot it and reply quicker than a very quick thing.
In 3 words describe The Figurehead.
Love and death.
Now you have another 21 words - give us some detail of the plot.
In Aberdeen in 1840, a shipwright dies and John Grant carves a figurehead, solves a mystery and starts falling in love.
Do you ever write naked?
I live in Aberdeen, ergo naked writing = hypothermia. Anyway, why let reality spoil my mental image of myself as a Lord Byron figure (without the bad leg)?
Why 1840?
I wanted it to be 19th century, near the Romantics because my PhD was on Victor Hugo’s theatre and I like all that excessive Romanticism stuff anyway. Narrowing it down was easy because Aberdeen Library had an ordnance survey map of the city in 1840. Then I discovered that the Scottish Maid, the first ship to have a clipper bow, was designed and launched in Aberdeen in 1839, exactly 100 years before my birthday. And sail was being threatened by steam, and a new-fangled thing called a propeller was being demonstrated, and emigration to the Americas, Australia and New Zealand was big business – so it’s a great time. (And there’s no DNA or CSI to worry about, either.)
Suits me. I hate all that DNA malarkey. If I want a science manual I’ll go to the non-fiction department thankyouverymuch. You've published crime and now with The Figurehead there appears to be an element of romance. You going soft on us?
This harsh exterior hides a gentle, tender soul. Anyway, The Figurehead is still a crime novel. It just so happened that the carver, John Grant, and half his model, Helen Anderson, started fancying one another so who was I to stop them? I think it’s a shame that we have to be genre-labelled, anyway. It’s inhibiting. I only became a crime writer by accident.
You have a bad leg? Awwww. What other faults would you like to tell us about?
No, no. Byron had the bad leg – club foot. It hurt like eff, so he drank hock and soda water to take his mind off it. (Works for me.)
As for my own faults, my first impulse was to claim that I’m almost flawless (‘almost’ because my generosity, compassion and modesty are excessive). But it’s hard to signal something as a joke in writing, and self-deprecation doesn’t always work. I was once very embarrassed in the USA where I directed As you like it for the URI Theater Department. After the last show, they gave me some lovely, thoughtful gifts and, in my thank you speech, I said the show had been wonderful thanks to the director. They all applauded and agreed but no doubt thought I was a wanker when all I wanted was to get a laugh.
So let’s see – there’s selfishness, laziness, occasional gluttony (eating whole tubs of Ben and Jerry’s as I watch football), impatience with politicians and an extraordinarily low attention span. Those are just a few off the top of my head – interview my wife to get the rest.
I called her. She says she’s going to keep all the good stuff until you have shuffled off this mortal coil, and then make a fortune.
When it comes to violence in fiction how far should you go?
This is a perennial problem, isn’t it? I remember writing a blog about it way back and I’m still puzzled by our appetite for (or tolerance of) it. It’s clear that lots of readers expect to find a bit of gore dripping off the pages. One psychologist/critic (can’t remember who) said crime writers ‘stylise’ murder, make it acceptable by turning it into something other than a grotesque invasion of one person by another. I don’t buy that. I think we’re satisfying some incomprehensible but very real appetite. We rubber-neck at accident scenes, the papers dwell on the gruesome details of stabbings, rape, torture, murder. Unlike with their politics, they’re not forming our tastes and opinions, they’re meeting a demand. I don’t imagine for a moment that many of us would be capable of doing any of those things ourselves but the fascination with them is definitely there.
Having said all that, I have a nagging concern that we don’t really know what we’re unleashing when we invent our nasty episodes. The arguments about video games apply to our violent scenes, too – copycat killings, kids using knives so casually, and the whole excitement and glamour of violence. It’s fine for me to sit here, sun shining on the garden outside, and decide to eviscerate someone with a blunt breadknife and wrap up the bits in cling-film. My imagination can conceive of it but I’d never be able to do it. But we don’t all share the same morality and there may well be readers who find such words and images ‘cool’. That makes me shudder more than the fictional gore-fest.
See question above and tell us what you think about any responsibility that the author might have...
I’ve sort of answered that already (even if it’s by a ‘don’t know’). But I think there’s another angle on it. Just as writers get caught up with their characters and their autonomy, so they get dragged into their motives and the situations in which they find themselves. In a way, it’s possible that the writer’s an accomplice but the real responsibility lies with the character.
OK, I need to explain that. When I wrote my first procedural, I decided it had to have some nastiness because that sells books. That sounds glib, irresponsible maybe because the scene I wrote, towards the end of the book, is quite shocking. But I didn’t sit here dreaming up torments – they all came straight out of the character involved and the motives behind the violence. It was a necessary part of that person’s psyche and essential to the plot. Mind you, it still didn’t stop my agent at the time happily introducing me to a friend as ‘a nice man who has very nasty thoughts’. When asked to do readings or give talks, I never read such passages, though, and I actually find them disturbing when I look at them now. So the writer in me writes them and enjoys the process, but the reader in me finds them hard to take. Over to you, Mr. therapist.
Hey, I’m not your therapist, dude. Although I am available for a fee and therefore happy to make some shit up to earn it...and what responsibility does someone like yourself have who is, and I quote "almost flawless"?
I knew I shouldn’t have given you that whip to beat me with (see what I did there?). It’s actually scary to think that what I write could have a consequence other than just entertaining the reader, and nowadays I don’t exploit the commercial potential of violence at all. There was a rape in my second book (which I rewrote after my wife read and commented on it and gave me insights into the victim’s responses which I hadn’t had myself). Again, it’s nasty and again it’s necessary. Luckily, when the late Susanna Yager reviewed it in the Sunday Telegraph, she acknowledged that it wasn’t ‘there to titillate, but to carry the story forward and ultimately bring about the climax to a thoughtful and thought-provoking book’. I think if I were to discover that something I wrote provoked or informed actual violence to a real person, I’d feel very guilty. So I acknowledge the responsibility – and yet I still go on writing that sort of thing when it’s necessary. Is that me copping out? Come on, you’ve reviewed umpteen crime novels, you tell me.
I like what Stephen King says about a contract between the writer and the reader and the writer’s duty to write about his/ her character with honesty. Anywho, this isn’t about me. For once. So...moving on...when giving writerly advice, Oliver Wendell Holmes said that when writing about a frog you should inhabit your frog-ness. How do you inhabit your frogness?
The temptation to discuss my genuine Francophilia is strong but I’ll resist it. One response that your question does provoke, though, is that doing something and thinking about how you do it are distinct things. On one hand, you’re the writer – absorbed in the work, unaware of self or the passage of time, part of the fiction that’s being created – on the other, you’re stepping back from the process, analysing it objectively in full awareness of who you are and what your aims and intentions are too. So my answer is that I definitely do ‘inhabit my frogness’ but if I start trying to say how I do it, I might be inventing something which wasn’t necessarily true. (Interestingly – to me anyway – this answer reflects what I was saying about my attitudes to violence as writer and reader – the writer is wrapped up in it, part of it and can therefore do it; the reader is further from it, more capable of the necessary objectivity you need for analysis.)
Talking about Stephen King - we were, people. Keep up. What was the best piece of writing advice you ever received?
I’ll tell you a secret. At school and university, I used to write the occasional letter to the editor and even an odd article here and there. I was too idle to actually become a student journalist or anything and writing was just for fun. So the aim was rarely serious but a couple of times I got very enthusiastic responses from teachers, lecturers, even profs. And yet no one ever suggested that I should look for a career involving writing. With hindsight, it was the obvious route for me to follow.
So some people said nice things but I don’t think I can pinpoint a specific piece of writing advice given to me personally. As a student, reading old critics such as G Wilson Knight and others made me realise for the first time how writing can have so many layers of significance (not that I’m claiming that for my stuff). And the ‘rules’ of Elmore Leonard are brilliant and spot on. I only ever give two bits of advice myself – read what you’ve written aloud to test for rhythms, gaps, mistakes, etc. and cut, cut, cut.
Are you a plotter or a pantser (as in, you fly by the seat of your pants - and if you know where that expression comes from, do tell)
As part of my slavish desire to please you, I checked the expression and it’s probably British from WW1 – planes with few or unreliable instruments, so the pilot made his judgements on how the aircraft was moving, shuddering etc. – all of which he felt through his chair. But for once, your question’s easy to answer. I’m a rudimentary plotter but, once the words start appearing, the pantser takes over. I have a general overall idea of where I want to get to but I let the characters take me there (or somewhere else if that’s what they decide). I even laugh at their jokes. Maybe authors should all be sectioned to protect society.
I’m liking this slavish desire you have to pleasing me. Now...while I come up with ways in which I can take advantage of this tell us all how to buy a copy of The Figurehead and what formats it is in.
The formats take me into new territory. It’s the first time I’ve had a book published simultaneously as e-book, e-serial and paperback. It’s already available in the USA but an ISBN number glitch has delayed it in the UK. I’m assured that’ll be cleared up very quickly. People who registered with Virtual Tales (the publishers) get the first 4 chapters free and a 40% discount on the cover price. I don’t know if that offer’s still open but all you have to do is send a blank email to figurehead@virtualtales.com to find out. The relevant web page is at http://www.virtualtales.com/Mystery/Crime/Figurehead.html. Most of all, it would be nice if readers went into their local bookshop and, if it’s not on the shelves, expressed, in very loud voices and at great length, their amazement at such a shocking lapse on the part of the manager.
Like this, people... “ohmyGOD, you DON’T have a copy of The Figurehead by Bill Kirton?
If what you have read here doesn't slake your desire for all things Bill, he can be found on his blog and the link is on the right-hand side of this page. No. The other right. Or you could post a question in the comments section and as he, by his own admission, is a devoted fan of May Contain Nuts, he will spot it and reply quicker than a very quick thing.
WTF Wednesday
I have just found the oddest fucking pic I've ever found doing a google search. I am disturbed and you will be too. I would apologize, but since the image is my head, it must be in yours as well ..... tough shit! My google search today was intended for a cute or funny pic to add to my update-blog where I share the reply I got from Alan (read yesterdays blog) after I mucked up his name in an introduction a few weeks back.
First, here's the reply:
From: Alan
Sent: Tuesday, June 29, 2010 9:39 PM
To: Stacy Dumb Shit
Subject: RE: So uhh ...
You’re funny! To be totally honest with you I do not remember you saying that. I think it is because we were out in the rain and I wanted to get shelter. So please stop thinking you’re a turd you silly shit. Ha Ha. Talk to you later…
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
And I was looking for a "phew" type pic, or "thank god", or something to add to my quick entry today ... and this is what I find:
I could not longer bear to come back to my own blog so I removed the original pic. I, too, am scarred for life and I'm sorry to those I affected.
Here's the replacement pic:
Quesque fuck?!
Moving on .... quickly.
So began my mission. Great way to kill some time my last day before the 4-Day Long Weekend ... playing on Google ...
And speaking of beavers .....
And finally, some good ol' shit ... or 'oh shit'
And lastly, yet another that made me say out loud ... what. the. fuck.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
I'm a turd and a bad bff
I know it's late in the day, but I've been in the office for almost 9 hours and thought I'd take a quick break to join in on True Story Tuesday with this because I feel like a dumb shit ....
To start, here's an e-mail that I had to send out today:
From: Stacy Dumb Shit
Sent: Tuesday, June 29, 2010 4:12 PM
To: 'Alan @ xxxxxx.net'
Subject: So uhh ...
Imagine my embarrassment roughly 13 seconds AFTER I introduced you to T(-bone) as Roger …….
I e-mailed Lynda right away and told her I think I f-ed up. I consider Lynda my best friend and I can’t even keep her family straight! That either means I am a bad friend or we don’t see each other enough and maybe I should you over for a bbq or something this summer to make it up to you.
Probably would have made it easier on me if you corrected me then so we could have laughed it off then. I am too mortified to admit my mistake to T(-bone) and he will always be confused now because he was sure you were Alan since Shane told him you were. Ha.
Anyway, soooo sorry. I’ve been feeling like a turd ever since.
Stacy Dumb Shit
I've highlighted the important parts of the e-mail and will now explain why I believe this is TST-worthy, you're entitled to your opinion however ......
I met Lynda when I was 6 years old and by grade 7 when we realized we shared the same pain and humiliation inflicted by fucking bitches at our school, we were good friends. But that's still over a 20 year old friendship. Damn. Alan is HER BROTHER! How the hell do you have a best friend for that long without being able to keep their siblings straight when she is as close to mine as she is to me? Well, her siblings are J.W.'s, and without getting into debates or fights on my innocent lil blog, we just haven't had many opportunities to get to know them more. In 20+ years. But what's worse about what I did, I HAD seen them all a few weeks prior. And talked to them! To add further indignation to myself, when I introduced "Roger" to T-Bone, I specifically said "Lynda's brother-in-law", not brother. As soon as I realized what I had done, I'm sure I shit my pants or at least lost the colour in my face. The embarassment was great. It took me a long time to e-mail the real Alan with this message and I am just dreading the day that I have to face him again. Good thing he has a fantastic sense of humour and seems to be very good-hearted. So it's not like I'll be expecting a punch in the face or even a cold shoulder. Not that anyone would punch someone in the face for this kind of indiscretion. As a matter of fact, are J.W.'s allowed to punch people in the face?
LEONARDO CORREDOR - BROWN EYES
INFO
Leonardo Corredor, born February 27, 1989 in Mérida, is a Venezuelan Model and Actor.
After beginning his career as a fashion model, Corredor has branched out into acting roles, starring in several minor roles in TV series such as "Control Remoto," "Dum Dum" and "La Merienda".
Click to enlarge
Photographer UKMCBO shares with us his new shoot with Leonardo Corredor, inspired by the soulful song ‘Brown Eyes’ by Lady Gaga.
This shoot is part of a series THE MEN OF GAGA, A TRIBUTE FROM UKMCBO, with each set inspired by one of Lady Gaga’s songs.
This shoot is part of a series THE MEN OF GAGA, A TRIBUTE FROM UKMCBO, with each set inspired by one of Lady Gaga’s songs.
Click to enlarge
MORE OF LEANDRO CORREDOR: CLICK HERE
LEONARDO CORREDOR - Hockey Player | PICTURES | BIOGRAPHY
BIOGRAPHY
The model and actor Leonardo Corredor, Venezuela, has only 21 and already a success worldwide. Left the runway and went to TV, participating in various serials. In 2007, when he participated in "Mister Handsome Venezuela", decided to invest heavily in modeling career.
One recent editorial was done with top photographer Rick Day Rick The New Yorker is known in the fashion world and world famous for clicks on hot male models. In an interview said he feels accomplished by creating "beautiful images capable of seducing both men and women." Rick is also well known for his book players, where the super models of the characters face the sporting world.
Click to enlarge
The model and actor Leonardo Corredor, Venezuela, has only 21 and already a success worldwide. Left the runway and went to TV, participating in various serials. In 2007, when he participated in "Mister Handsome Venezuela", decided to invest heavily in modeling career.
Click to enlarge
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