Tuesday, August 30
'Messiah's Sneaker has a chance'
That's the verdict of my brother, after having read my novel Messiah's Sneaker. Hurrah! Thanks for the praise, bro. Makes me want to dig it out and fix the weaker spots which you noted (and which I agree with) and make the whole thing tighter and shorter with another good edit.
But now, it's off to dinner to celebrate my daughter's 13th birthday. Yes, I now live with two -- count 'em, 2 -- teen-agers.
But now, it's off to dinner to celebrate my daughter's 13th birthday. Yes, I now live with two -- count 'em, 2 -- teen-agers.
Wednesday, August 24
A taste of word collections
Taste No. 1: Here are just a few of those captured phrases that have been rolling around my consciousness the past few days:
• transcendentally awkward
• a lot of hang-ups to overcome
• the person we are in ordinary life
• we're just monkeys with car keys
• there's something magical about overheard conversation
• actresses trying to elude paparazzi
• the tyranny of the finite
• forced standardization
• stream of consequences
• curious kate
• that's the last time I date a girl with cape
• sometimes I'm so deep I can't even understand myself
• transcendentally awkward
• a lot of hang-ups to overcome
• the person we are in ordinary life
• we're just monkeys with car keys
• there's something magical about overheard conversation
• actresses trying to elude paparazzi
• the tyranny of the finite
• forced standardization
• stream of consequences
• curious kate
• that's the last time I date a girl with cape
• sometimes I'm so deep I can't even understand myself
Dystopia?
Another taste: I've also been collecting news items, for some odd reason which will likely become clear once I start writing. Maybe my next novel is about living in the Early Days of Dystopia? Here's the current state of a chunk of the master text file.
Something's up. A vibe. A ripple in time? Clocks spinning backwards? The first step towards…. A West Caribbean Airways plane crashed in Venezuela, killing all 160 aboard. An Ecuadorean boat carrying illegal immigrants sank off the coast of Colombia, and more than 100 people were reported missing. Helios Airways Flight ZU522, with six crew and 115 passengers, plunged 34,000 feet into a mountainous area near Athens. There were no survivors.
Every day it's something else: Three car bombs killed at least 43 people and wounded 76 in an attack on a Baghdad bus station and nearby hospital. Hackers unleashed new variants of a computer worm that attacks a vulnerability in Windows operating systems, but infection rates appeared to be low and damage minor so far. British police made a series of catastrophic errors that led to armed officers shooting dead an innocent Brazilian when they were hunting the failed July 21 bombers. A Spanish military helicopter crashed in Afghanistan, killing all 17 on board.
Other fears grow: A top Iranian nuclear official warned that the European Union's mounting pressure on Tehran to limit its nuclear activities would only be counterproductive. Inflation at the wholesale level in the United States increased in July by the largest amount in nine months, reflecting the hit consumers are taking at gasoline pumps. Some 300 small bombs rocked cities across Bangladesh Wednesday, killing one person, wounding at least 100.
The next day, we hear that despite some resistance, authorities said Israel's historic withdrawal from Gaza was progressing rapidly and predicting that 19 out of 21 Jewish settlements would be cleared by the end of the day. Grueling six-party talks aimed at defusing a crisis over North Korea's nuclear ambitions enter an 11th day, but a joint communique may prove elusive with Pyongyang insisting on the right to peaceful nuclear programs.
Madonna falls off a horse on her 47th birthday. Puff drops the P and simply goes with the Diddy. Paris Hilton is on TV again. We sit silently, watching our televisions, listening to our iPods, waiting for the next bombing, waiting for news of Brad and Jen.
And yet we go on about our little lives, not worrying about jihad. If we change the way we live, the terrorists win. That's what they say. That's what they say. That's what they keep saying. So we worry instead about other thing . Will that car really turn left, like its blinker indicates? Will my kids grow up OK, avoiding drugs and drunk drivers? Will that lump in my father's chest turn out to be nothing? Will I be able to afford a new car next year? Will I in fact have a job next year? Will it rain tomorrow, or should I mow the lawn tonight?
Or maybe it's nothing. Maybe it's just in his mind. His mind. His never ending hive mind.
Today's news? More of the same. New York's subway will be scanned by thousands of cameras and motion sensors under a high-tech strategy to counter the threat of terrorist attacks. Rescuers combed a jungle marsh for victims of a Peruvian airliner that split in two after an emergency landing during a fierce hailstorm, killing at least 41 people. Tropical Storm K____ formed in the Bahamas and could reach hurricane strength before hitting the coast of Florida later this week.
Spread of H5N1 avian flu virus from person to person has been rare so far, yet, still, scientists are concerned that the avian flu could one day be able to infect humans and experts from around the world are watching the H5N1 situation in Asia very closely. They are preparing for the next global influenza pandemic leading to unprecedented high levels of illness, death, social disruption, and economic loss. What happens then?
Is that it? Forget the terrorists. Is it the flu that does us in?
Reports from the south say Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez may see an increase in popularity because of the death threat leveled by a US television evangelist. Another movie star -- the third this month -- was on the giving end of a minor car accident near Disneyland--an accident caused, her publicist says, as the actress tried to swerve her Mercedes to escape a crew of paparazzi shutterbugs.
Meanwhile, dozens of heavily armed insurgents attacked police checkpoints with rocket-propelled grenades and assault rifles in western Baghdad, in some of the heaviest street fighting in the capital in months. The president meanwhile has started fighting back to the growing peace movement, maintaining that pulling out of Iraq now would weaken the US fight against terrorism. His son started high school. My daughter started kindergarten.
The woman whose son accused Michael Jackson of child molestation could face her own criminal trial on welfare fraud charges. Fox is still obsessed with the missing teen in Aruba. The movie he wants to see plays at 7:10 and 9:15, but he's covering for someone at work and needs to go in early. Too early for the late screening. TV instead.
Pakistan's religious schools say they will resist state registration unless several new measures are withdrawn. A US soldier has been sentenced to two months in prison for abusing an Afghan detainee who later died. Pakistan's president confirms a disgraced nuclear scientist gave North Korea centrifuges for uranium enrichment. Thousands of firefighters battle to halt a series of forest fires raging in northern and central Portugal. The US president says the time is ripe for the Israel and the Palestinians to return to the international roadmap peace plan.
British Interior Minister Charles Clarke published a list of "unacceptable behaviors" which would prompt deportation or a ban on entry in the wake of the most recent bombings in London. Prime Minister John Howard angered some Australian Muslims by saying he supported placing government spies monitoring the nation's mosques.
And still life goes on. I take the kids to school. I sit in my cubicle. I eat breakast, I walk the dogs. I read. I watch tv. I watch movies. I buy new music. Life goes on. The world crumbles around us -- or does it? -- and life goes on.
See, something's up. The World As We Know It is changing. Rollback of enlightenment? Stage one of our long feared dystopian future?
Or just another day in paradise?
Something's up. A vibe. A ripple in time? Clocks spinning backwards? The first step towards…. A West Caribbean Airways plane crashed in Venezuela, killing all 160 aboard. An Ecuadorean boat carrying illegal immigrants sank off the coast of Colombia, and more than 100 people were reported missing. Helios Airways Flight ZU522, with six crew and 115 passengers, plunged 34,000 feet into a mountainous area near Athens. There were no survivors.
Every day it's something else: Three car bombs killed at least 43 people and wounded 76 in an attack on a Baghdad bus station and nearby hospital. Hackers unleashed new variants of a computer worm that attacks a vulnerability in Windows operating systems, but infection rates appeared to be low and damage minor so far. British police made a series of catastrophic errors that led to armed officers shooting dead an innocent Brazilian when they were hunting the failed July 21 bombers. A Spanish military helicopter crashed in Afghanistan, killing all 17 on board.
Other fears grow: A top Iranian nuclear official warned that the European Union's mounting pressure on Tehran to limit its nuclear activities would only be counterproductive. Inflation at the wholesale level in the United States increased in July by the largest amount in nine months, reflecting the hit consumers are taking at gasoline pumps. Some 300 small bombs rocked cities across Bangladesh Wednesday, killing one person, wounding at least 100.
The next day, we hear that despite some resistance, authorities said Israel's historic withdrawal from Gaza was progressing rapidly and predicting that 19 out of 21 Jewish settlements would be cleared by the end of the day. Grueling six-party talks aimed at defusing a crisis over North Korea's nuclear ambitions enter an 11th day, but a joint communique may prove elusive with Pyongyang insisting on the right to peaceful nuclear programs.
Madonna falls off a horse on her 47th birthday. Puff drops the P and simply goes with the Diddy. Paris Hilton is on TV again. We sit silently, watching our televisions, listening to our iPods, waiting for the next bombing, waiting for news of Brad and Jen.
And yet we go on about our little lives, not worrying about jihad. If we change the way we live, the terrorists win. That's what they say. That's what they say. That's what they keep saying. So we worry instead about other thing . Will that car really turn left, like its blinker indicates? Will my kids grow up OK, avoiding drugs and drunk drivers? Will that lump in my father's chest turn out to be nothing? Will I be able to afford a new car next year? Will I in fact have a job next year? Will it rain tomorrow, or should I mow the lawn tonight?
Or maybe it's nothing. Maybe it's just in his mind. His mind. His never ending hive mind.
Today's news? More of the same. New York's subway will be scanned by thousands of cameras and motion sensors under a high-tech strategy to counter the threat of terrorist attacks. Rescuers combed a jungle marsh for victims of a Peruvian airliner that split in two after an emergency landing during a fierce hailstorm, killing at least 41 people. Tropical Storm K____ formed in the Bahamas and could reach hurricane strength before hitting the coast of Florida later this week.
Spread of H5N1 avian flu virus from person to person has been rare so far, yet, still, scientists are concerned that the avian flu could one day be able to infect humans and experts from around the world are watching the H5N1 situation in Asia very closely. They are preparing for the next global influenza pandemic leading to unprecedented high levels of illness, death, social disruption, and economic loss. What happens then?
Is that it? Forget the terrorists. Is it the flu that does us in?
Reports from the south say Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez may see an increase in popularity because of the death threat leveled by a US television evangelist. Another movie star -- the third this month -- was on the giving end of a minor car accident near Disneyland--an accident caused, her publicist says, as the actress tried to swerve her Mercedes to escape a crew of paparazzi shutterbugs.
Meanwhile, dozens of heavily armed insurgents attacked police checkpoints with rocket-propelled grenades and assault rifles in western Baghdad, in some of the heaviest street fighting in the capital in months. The president meanwhile has started fighting back to the growing peace movement, maintaining that pulling out of Iraq now would weaken the US fight against terrorism. His son started high school. My daughter started kindergarten.
The woman whose son accused Michael Jackson of child molestation could face her own criminal trial on welfare fraud charges. Fox is still obsessed with the missing teen in Aruba. The movie he wants to see plays at 7:10 and 9:15, but he's covering for someone at work and needs to go in early. Too early for the late screening. TV instead.
Pakistan's religious schools say they will resist state registration unless several new measures are withdrawn. A US soldier has been sentenced to two months in prison for abusing an Afghan detainee who later died. Pakistan's president confirms a disgraced nuclear scientist gave North Korea centrifuges for uranium enrichment. Thousands of firefighters battle to halt a series of forest fires raging in northern and central Portugal. The US president says the time is ripe for the Israel and the Palestinians to return to the international roadmap peace plan.
British Interior Minister Charles Clarke published a list of "unacceptable behaviors" which would prompt deportation or a ban on entry in the wake of the most recent bombings in London. Prime Minister John Howard angered some Australian Muslims by saying he supported placing government spies monitoring the nation's mosques.
And still life goes on. I take the kids to school. I sit in my cubicle. I eat breakast, I walk the dogs. I read. I watch tv. I watch movies. I buy new music. Life goes on. The world crumbles around us -- or does it? -- and life goes on.
See, something's up. The World As We Know It is changing. Rollback of enlightenment? Stage one of our long feared dystopian future?
Or just another day in paradise?
Monday, August 22
Or not
A note: The post below is all about my writing process, which when I reread and thought back to last year, I realized can also be a complete and utter lie. Last year I started writing purely on energy and distraction, as my mother had died a few days before the start of November, and I needed something to do that wasn't related to her last months/weeks/days. As a result, I wrote a very personal novel last year about the process of death, I see now eight months later, and none of what's below applies to that process. The organic process of just sitting and writing works for me, too (if by "works" you mean you end up with a novel-length piece of fiction) (as opposed to "works" meaning published and sold; this kinds of "works" I've yet to attempt or accomplish).
Is this too personal for y'all?
I also note that my post of late July ennumerating the things I should be doing now and not at all getting done, except for thinking about my next novel (the list included primarily things to sell my old novels).
Is this too personal for y'all?
I also note that my post of late July ennumerating the things I should be doing now and not at all getting done, except for thinking about my next novel (the list included primarily things to sell my old novels).
Process dump
So, what happens see, is I start getting words and phrases and feelings visions inspiration and whatnot (for a project) in my brain.
Step 1: These occur most often in the following locations, ranked by order of frequency of brainal eruption: driving to work; driving home from work; at work; walking the dog if I'm alone with the dog(s); exercising (but only if I'm on an exercise peak, of which I'm currently not); in the shower; falling asleep. The common thread here is that I'm alone, doing something that requires very little brain power (particularly the third item in that list). If I'm lucky, I capture these phrases or ideas, best by writing it down, sometimes simply by replaying the idea over and over in my head until I can write it down at a later time. I would say 80 percent of these ideas disappear forever before I can write them down. Actually, probably more. Does that mean 4 out of 5 of my ideas are bad? Perhaps. Does it mean I'm lazy? Yes. Does it mean I've dreamt up and immediately forgotten the germ to my great american novel and I spend a lot of time working on lesser ideas? Highly likely, or so is my fear.
Step 2*: I think about the idea(s) over and over. I rework it. I rethink it. I try to consciously approach the idea from a different angle. First person? Third person? What if the first person is really a bit player? What if I mash these two ideas together? What if this nuke scientists chasing theiveing terrorists who meet the roadtripping Kerouac-inspired punks on the Golden Gate Bridge for hilarious mayhem idea I've been playing with in my brain for the past three years is really also the setting for the mocking suburaban retelling of the Christ story I've been thinking of writing for close to 20 years. How would that work? Then I think some more.
*-----> This is the stage I'm currently in for my next novel, the brilliant and inspired "Edge of Nowhere" (working title).
Step 3: If I'm lucky, these words and phrases and ideas meld and melt into something I can work with. If I am lucky, then I sit down here and type up some things, things like a quickie plot outline; some characters names/descriptions, a calendar. Maps. I think I'm about to start doing this to get a solid foundation for this coming November's NaNoWriMo novel.
Step 4: If I'm really lucky, I do it again. And again. And again.
Step 4A: I might write the first chapter.
Step 5: Eventually I get down to one or two pieces of paper a plot outline, each bullet item/line being a plot point. Sometimes, with multiple plots, I'll cut and paste them into each other, mixing up the story nicely. This become a chapter outline, and the source of all everything I subsequently do. Or not. Sometimes this is as far as I get. I have a half-dozen "novel" ideas at this point tucked away in various drawers/boxes.
Step 6: I start writing raw, rough, fast chunks of the story. Spewing, is a good word for it. Most often, most recently, this has been in November during National Novel Writing Month. A gimmick, but one that works very well for me. It's all about production of a very large number of words in a very short period of time.
Step 7: I finish a rough draft and put it away.
Step 8: I read it a month or two later, and am super impressed by my talent, ambition and insight.
Step 9: I read it again the next week with a pen, and am disgusted by my lack of talent, ambition and insight.
Step 10: I put it away forever.
Actually Step 10 is where I do get bogged down. What should come next is make all the edits I find on the paper copy on the e-copy, and then print it again and read and edit it again, and then make another set of changes, and print and read and change, until I'm
Step 11: Happy with it.
I'm really good with the first half-dozen steps, if I say so myself. I'm not so good with the second half, which is why this blog exists: to be public with my efforts in the hopes that peer pressure or simply my personal shame of not finishing is exposed and displayed for all the world to mock me so I do finish, etc. etc.
Step 12 would be the marketing phase, writing summaries and pitches and letters to agents and so on.
This year, starting today, The Edge of Nowhere -- the working name of eba's next blockbuster bestselling soon-to-be-a-major-motion-picture critically acclaimed masterwork -- will be developed right here on the blog.
For all to see, mock, steal and witness. See you soon with a list of some of the words/phrases ideas/feelings inspirations/inputs that have been bouncing around my head these past few weeks. You'll be suprised by how random and disconnect they are, but amazed in three months to see how they come together into something.
Something is a good word for it.
Process.
Step 1: These occur most often in the following locations, ranked by order of frequency of brainal eruption: driving to work; driving home from work; at work; walking the dog if I'm alone with the dog(s); exercising (but only if I'm on an exercise peak, of which I'm currently not); in the shower; falling asleep. The common thread here is that I'm alone, doing something that requires very little brain power (particularly the third item in that list). If I'm lucky, I capture these phrases or ideas, best by writing it down, sometimes simply by replaying the idea over and over in my head until I can write it down at a later time. I would say 80 percent of these ideas disappear forever before I can write them down. Actually, probably more. Does that mean 4 out of 5 of my ideas are bad? Perhaps. Does it mean I'm lazy? Yes. Does it mean I've dreamt up and immediately forgotten the germ to my great american novel and I spend a lot of time working on lesser ideas? Highly likely, or so is my fear.
Step 2*: I think about the idea(s) over and over. I rework it. I rethink it. I try to consciously approach the idea from a different angle. First person? Third person? What if the first person is really a bit player? What if I mash these two ideas together? What if this nuke scientists chasing theiveing terrorists who meet the roadtripping Kerouac-inspired punks on the Golden Gate Bridge for hilarious mayhem idea I've been playing with in my brain for the past three years is really also the setting for the mocking suburaban retelling of the Christ story I've been thinking of writing for close to 20 years. How would that work? Then I think some more.
*-----> This is the stage I'm currently in for my next novel, the brilliant and inspired "Edge of Nowhere" (working title).
Step 3: If I'm lucky, these words and phrases and ideas meld and melt into something I can work with. If I am lucky, then I sit down here and type up some things, things like a quickie plot outline; some characters names/descriptions, a calendar. Maps. I think I'm about to start doing this to get a solid foundation for this coming November's NaNoWriMo novel.
Step 4: If I'm really lucky, I do it again. And again. And again.
Step 4A: I might write the first chapter.
Step 5: Eventually I get down to one or two pieces of paper a plot outline, each bullet item/line being a plot point. Sometimes, with multiple plots, I'll cut and paste them into each other, mixing up the story nicely. This become a chapter outline, and the source of all everything I subsequently do. Or not. Sometimes this is as far as I get. I have a half-dozen "novel" ideas at this point tucked away in various drawers/boxes.
Step 6: I start writing raw, rough, fast chunks of the story. Spewing, is a good word for it. Most often, most recently, this has been in November during National Novel Writing Month. A gimmick, but one that works very well for me. It's all about production of a very large number of words in a very short period of time.
Step 7: I finish a rough draft and put it away.
Step 8: I read it a month or two later, and am super impressed by my talent, ambition and insight.
Step 9: I read it again the next week with a pen, and am disgusted by my lack of talent, ambition and insight.
Step 10: I put it away forever.
Actually Step 10 is where I do get bogged down. What should come next is make all the edits I find on the paper copy on the e-copy, and then print it again and read and edit it again, and then make another set of changes, and print and read and change, until I'm
Step 11: Happy with it.
I'm really good with the first half-dozen steps, if I say so myself. I'm not so good with the second half, which is why this blog exists: to be public with my efforts in the hopes that peer pressure or simply my personal shame of not finishing is exposed and displayed for all the world to mock me so I do finish, etc. etc.
Step 12 would be the marketing phase, writing summaries and pitches and letters to agents and so on.
This year, starting today, The Edge of Nowhere -- the working name of eba's next blockbuster bestselling soon-to-be-a-major-motion-picture critically acclaimed masterwork -- will be developed right here on the blog.
For all to see, mock, steal and witness. See you soon with a list of some of the words/phrases ideas/feelings inspirations/inputs that have been bouncing around my head these past few weeks. You'll be suprised by how random and disconnect they are, but amazed in three months to see how they come together into something.
Something is a good word for it.
Process.
Tuesday, August 16
Back to work
OK, two people today asked me how the writing was going (thanks Kristen, thanks Jeff) and another invited me to give him a book review for his literary website (thanks Nick) and I tempted a writer friend to write a novel with us this fall and I've had about a dozen other writerly novelistic thoughts today so I guess the writing is on the wall: it's back to work for me.
I'm ready. It's time. So, let's get to it.
Nick flew home yesterday (see the Anderson-Adventures blog for photos) and the kids start school on Thursday and the walk this morning was almost a bit chilly. It's time to write another novel.
(It's really time to rewrite a half-dozen of my other novels, but that doesn't interest me today; writing a new novel interests me today, you know, one that's nuanced and powerful, reflective and enthusiastic, compelling and pointless and full of good natured, laugh-out loud humor, an unironic sympathy, utter cynicism and, in the end, a book that rights wrongs, ends famine and war as we knows and leaves the reader looking forward to the movie.)
Wish me luck.
I'm ready. It's time. So, let's get to it.
Nick flew home yesterday (see the Anderson-Adventures blog for photos) and the kids start school on Thursday and the walk this morning was almost a bit chilly. It's time to write another novel.
(It's really time to rewrite a half-dozen of my other novels, but that doesn't interest me today; writing a new novel interests me today, you know, one that's nuanced and powerful, reflective and enthusiastic, compelling and pointless and full of good natured, laugh-out loud humor, an unironic sympathy, utter cynicism and, in the end, a book that rights wrongs, ends famine and war as we knows and leaves the reader looking forward to the movie.)
Wish me luck.
Monday, August 8
The tyranny of the finite
From a critical look back at Devo: "But that’s too narrow, and de-evolution is decay, entropy, things falling apart, which they do—that’s nature, from the cave to the moon to the cave. Just a cycle, a lifespan magnified, except this one is the one big human cycle, and there won’t be another. Which is the sad part, the part man was not meant to know—the tyranny of the finite, you could say."
Pynchon
A nice appreciation/discussion of the importance -- or not -- of Thomas Pynchon in BookForum.
I've read a few of his novels, all the early ones, and you can count me in the fan group. I feel as Jeffry Eugenides says, "Pynchon's fiction made it clear that, if you wanted to write, you had to know everything: everything about history, science, politics, even calculus; you had to know everything while being funny at the same time, and lyrical, bringing into the novel a freewheeling, present-tense, colloquial-poetic American voice, in books that were like adventure stories and comedy routines, and where the characters were forever breaking into song."
I've read a few of his novels, all the early ones, and you can count me in the fan group. I feel as Jeffry Eugenides says, "Pynchon's fiction made it clear that, if you wanted to write, you had to know everything: everything about history, science, politics, even calculus; you had to know everything while being funny at the same time, and lyrical, bringing into the novel a freewheeling, present-tense, colloquial-poetic American voice, in books that were like adventure stories and comedy routines, and where the characters were forever breaking into song."
