Steal this idea - The Big Squirt

Stuck in a rut? Writer's block? Looking for that right-angle turn in your novel? Try insomnia. It's cheap, and it works. Makes new synaptic connections that will blow your mind. The reasons aren't important, but I've had six hours sleep in the last three days. While driving the countryside at four this morning, deer darted in front of me and conspired in small herds in the fields to abduct me. I tried to be friendly and joke with one along the roadside.

"Who are the three greatest philosophers of all time?" I asked.

She chewed her cud, flicked her ears, and twitched her tail a few times pretending she knew the answer.

"Okay," I responded, paranoid that she's sending message to other deer to sneak up behind me. "First one, 'To do is to be,' is Aristotle. Second one, 'To be is to do,' is Descartes." I'm laughing already at the punch line. "Third one, "Do be do be do," is Sinatra."

Humorless, the deer snorted and charged the car. I drove away. But their intentions got me thinking about animals taking over. Oh, yeah! There's "The Birds" and a really crappy movie about all the animals taking over because of radioactive fallout and of course, we've been plagued by giant grasshoppers, bunnies, slugs, rats (remember Ben and Willard), ticks, and probably many other animals, but there's a new bad boy on the block. One that is real!!! I saw a special on the giant jellyfish, some up to 400 pounds, in the Sea of Japan that are ruining the fishing. There's 30 BILLION of them. The fishermen, in their haste to apply their own solution, started chopping them up. Scientists discovered that chopping them up signals the release of a million eggs per jellyfish. What if they start taking over? Everyone thinks the next war will be over oil or water or Gummy Bears, but I think this is ripe for a Michael Critterdon type of thriller as the jellyfish take over the seas, people panic, create solutions that worsen the problem (of course ignoring the geek with the right solution), then Jellyfish invade inland waters, and then, they find a way to get out of the water. How do you solve (or don't) this ecological disaster?

I've to go take a nap. Six deer are outside my window watching me. They are like POD deer, thinking I'm Kevin McCarthy, Donald Sutherland, or Nicole Kidman, and are waiting for me to fall asleep and take over my body. Beside insomnia. It keeps me, ME.

Steal this idea - Alien Mulch in NC

Mention that you're a writer, and everyone has a story for you. I'm trying to buy leaf mulch to amend the cement, uh, clay that surrounds my house. During the call, he idly asks what I do for a living. Even though I've made only enough money to feed three mice for a week from my writing, I tell him, "I'm a writer." "Oh yeah," he starts, "well let me tell you about the time I was trucking across Texas. Man, I had to go real bad...(fifteen minutes later)...and when I looked at my clock, I was amazed. Those damn aliens had me back in my truck and only one minute had passed. And the most amazing thing was, I didn't have to go to the bathroom anymore."

He brings me no mulch, but you can write his story for him.

Publishing Pundits Pout

Rather than repeat, check out this blog about the current state of publishing and the other blog stories to which it links. Some might see the end of the world; others will see opportunity. Me? I'm going to open a new file and write a new story.

It was a bright and sunny day. The books were tossed between seller and buyer at the flee market like fish at Seattle's Seafood Market. "I'll give you fifty cents for HP#7," a stout man with a short cigar clenched between yellowed teeth shouted. "But it only came out two days ago," argued the vendor, wearing a funky, tall pointed hat. "Yeah, but it's used, seventy-five cents," the man bargained. "That author sweat ink to write that book," the old vendor said, pointing a small stick at the man. "Take it or leave it, you old gasbag." The old gasbag mumbled, "Flea." "Flee from what?" the buyer said. A cloud of white smoke replaced the buyer. The book hung in the air for the briefest moment before dropping on a confused bug. "Dumbledorf!" yelled an excited woman wearing the crown jewels of England last owned by Queen Elizabeth. "Sorry," he said. "Well that's three today. One more, and I'll never bring you back."

Fresh Squeezed

I'm not much for banning/burning books. "Sit down, Beulah, you Nazi cow." But if I could ban the publication of just one book, "If I Did It" would be it. With or without any opening message by the victims family, even if O.J. never sees a penny, even if it supports the kids or any victims rights organization, it just seems sick all the way around to me. I'm stunned that some deranged or bereaved person hasn't taken him out.

Where are those "Burn the book" organizations when you need them?

Hmm. Is this the slippery slope that you don't realize you're sliding down until you hit bottom?

MMWUC for August 27, 2007

EXERCISE: Students gasp. The sign had indicated a guest lecturer, but no one expected Stephen King. King stands at the head of the aisle, unblinking, and wearing black. "I Walk The Line" by Johnny Cash plays over the loudspeakers lower than a whisper in church as King smiles a row of rotted teeth and limps up the aisle. Students ready to rush him for an autograph retreat. Eyes follow King as if tethered to his every move. When King reaches the dais, he adjusts the microphone. His hand falls off and blood squirts. Students scream. He opens his mouth and teeth cascade to the lectern. A girl in the front row swoons. His real hand emerges from his jacket sleeve, and he reaches up and removes the mask revealing Dean Koontz. "But aren't you dead?" the girl who swooned says. "Not yet," Koontz removes the mask to reveal King. He smiles and removes the rest of the false teeth. Some students laugh nervously; some look around in disbelief. "Close your eyes (no one dares), take a deep breath (no one does), and relax (no one can). For the next ten minutes, write from the antagonists POV, 'Daisies lined the cobblestone path, but all I could see....'"

MUSINGS: A friend is struggling with the beginning of her new novel. The story is rich in possibilities, and I responded by suggesting the many layers of meaning along with goals, motivation, and conflict the story could (and should) have to enhance the readers pleasure allowing the rich message in the story to soar from the hidden depths of despair in the black moment to crystal clarity of realization in the climax providing the protagonist with the silver bullet to thwart the antagonist. If your story seems flat, look to go one more emotional level deeper for your characters, one more universal truth that will make the outcome resonate with a larger audience. King could have removed the mask to reveal himself for a good joke, but now the joke/deception has struck a deeper distrusting cord. Well, at least, that's what it seems as King removes the mask to reveal Michael Chabon.

Steal this idea - The Space Eaters

I like outer space. Yeah, I thought about becoming an astronaut when I was little, before I became "four eyes" (with trifocals now, I guess I'm 'six eyes'), before I learned I barfed on the tea cup ride in Seaside Park every time, before I discovered I don't like small spaces. But space travel has always interested me, and I have my own science fiction stories about it, including a rejection in 1974 from "Playboy" indicating there's no such thing as binary stars.

But this story about the empty spot in the universe intrigued me. What if...scientists discovered an empty spot (better yet, the vampire of outer space-a black hole) forming nearby in space, in the direction in which our galaxy was spinning, and we only had twenty years in which to discover a new planet and travel there? Can you imagine the congressional delays? What if, there was a segment of society that didn't care and protested about the government spending? What if, there was another segment that thought it was God's way and we're distorting His plan. What if...(your turn, your story, your Pulitzer).

Cue the music. "It's the end of the world as we know it; it's the end of the world as we know it; it's the end of the world as we know it; and I feel fine."

And don't forget Tuesday's lunar eclipse, especially y'all on the Pacific Rim.

Money for the Muse

The North Carolina Arts Council announced the five winners of the $10,000 prose fellowships for this fiscal year out of 190 submissions as follows:
* Erica Berkeley (Chatham County)
* Bethany Chaney (Orange County)
* Brian Crocker (Guilford County)
* Laura Hope-Gill (Buncombe County)
* Sherry Shaw (Gaston County)

Congratulations to y'all. Hopefully, we'll see their verbs and nouns paint literary paintings in future works. The next grant round deadline is November 1, 2008. (Note: the web page hasn't been updated to reflect that.) Maybe my turn will come in the 2009-2010 fiscal year. Until then, I'll keep the victory garden growing and search for my muse in the eyes of the potatoes.

Writing: Up and Down

Two beta readers returned my latest novel with much praise and scant comments. Yippee for me, the writer needing those bones of optimism in a desert of publication hope. As I scanned the comments, fixing the few things identified, I noticed the word "up" used too many times in a paragraph. I wondered, "How many times have I repeated that word?"

The horror! 312 times in the first 15,345 words. Way too often I believed and then started looking at each occurrence of "up" and "down" in that file. Three hours later, only 123 "ups" remained, and the writing improved with each removal. "Down" was less offensive, but also diminished in use. People don't have to sit down or stand up. They sat or stood in most cases.

I've been good at spotting the obvious overuse of a single unusual word, akimbo being a prime example. It can only show up once in the novel even if the character stands that way a lot. It is a word that tells the reader "look at this word I used". That doesn't always help maintain the suspension of disbelief so desperately needed.

So...how do you spot the overuse of "common" words other than by stumbling across it as I did? And where is that program that can find every unique word and list it in an output file showing you all the words you've used and how often? I want it. I want it now. Down with those words that mess up my manuscripts.

"The Shadow of the Wind" by Carlos Ruiz Zafon

"...so long as we are being remembered, we remain alive." So goes the main point in this magical realism novel steeped in the mystery of why someone is burning all the novels of Julian Carax. It's funny in a way. My wife is always saying, "We remain alive as long as we are remembered." Did Zafon bug my house? Is this why we write? To remain alive after our pathetic bag of bones crumbles into dust? If you like magical realism, you'll love this novel. If you like mysteries, you'll like this novel. If you want a quick read, you won't finish it. I say 4.5 out of 5.

Steal this idea - Weather Weapon Woes

We reached 105 degrees yesterday, the highest ever temperature in Raleigh, NC. This is the hottest and driest August on record. We've already had 56 days above 90 (average 37) and are heading for the record of 72 set in 1952. Yeah, Phoenix is warmer, but this ain't Phoenix. I feel like paraphrasing Rick from "Casablanca".
---
"I came here for the snows."

"Snows? There are not snows in Raleigh."

"Guess I was misinformed."
---
But what I'm really thinking about is a story about a man who really DOES do something about the weather. He kidnaps the entire staff at the Weather Channel believing they are in control of the weather and demands that it rains over his house within the next two days or he'll execute a weatherperson each hour it doesn't rain. Scientist consider options, including cloud seeding, to end the stalemate while the police attempt to gain access to the building only to find out that this man is a former military weapons expert and has one of those suitcase nuclear devices from the cold war that the government never agreed they had, and our intrepid reporter (Robin Meade) finds evidence that the government has lost track of six of the devices. Could they be with other people as unstable as this guy? Only you know the outcome....

Steal this idea - Trees from the Irish

Phineas McCall is stunned by the devastation in the Asian steppe country regions and begins a local movement to plant more trees. His innocent idea, that planting thousands of trees (fruit baring and others) will one day help the local environment and economy, catches on. Three years later, and thousands of trees, CNN does a story on him and his effort. Money flows into his organization, and he expands his efforts. The governments get wary; drug smugglers don't want the attention; water resources are hoarded. He seems up against the evils of humanity then...(your turn to make this a literary success.)

MMWUC for August 20, 2007

EXERCISE: Eyes hidden behind tinted shades, Leonard Elmore stomps into the packed room. Sweaty students cringe in fear and respect awaiting the fiery breath of the minimalism master to burn their pages with his rules. A Summer "Red" Tanager, Passeriformes Thraupidae, bloody from hours of attacking his image in the window, slides down a pane in exhaustion. Elmore eyes it. "Retrieve that dying ornithological disaster," he says. Elmore cradles the bird. A writing student, nurse by trade, passes him an eyedropper filled with sugar water. He feeds the Tanager like a new mother suckling her young. A smile cracks the dry canyons of his aged face. The bird revives, chirps, and then attacks his own image in Elmore's shades. They crack. Elmore screams. The bird flees with Elmore's right eye. He stumbles back, cracks his head on a riser. Blood oozes from his slumped body. The nurse rushes the podium and grabs the master's notes. "Don't breathe. Don't relax. Focus. Surprise your readers. Write for ten minutes from the protagonists POV, 'He crumpled where he once stood....'"

MUSINGS: I'm reading Elmore, Pickard, and Hammett, trying to inspire my muse to overcome my pedestrian writing with words that soar and plots that surprise so agents will sit up and take notice. I have to attack my own writing comfort zone, mix it up, make that right-angled turn into the "...and now for something completely different..." world of story-telling. I won't join a fight club, but I may get a dragon tattoo on my ass for inspiration. It's easy to fall into the trap of considering your twist different, but what is the litmus test for identifying your writing is really unique before being thumped by the industry professionals? How do you test your uniqueness?

Steal this idea - Fatwas on fatwas

What if the next middle-eastern war wasn't about oil, but fatwas such as the following one.

"The reputation of Egypt's religious authorities was further clouded recently when a lecturer at Al-Azhar issued a fatwa (a religious ruling) saying work colleagues of the opposite sex could escape the ban on unmarried men and women being alone together if the woman breast-fed her male colleague five times. The lecturer's rationale was breast-feeding established a maternal rather than a sexual relationship."

Imagine two people caught in a compromising position at a U.S. educational institution and brought up on disciplinary charges. The implications could spiral outward pitting Islamic fatwas against fatwas against U.S. law against the love that the man really has for the woman. And what about Naomi? Where would this potentially explosive story take you?

Is my muse my birds?

My cockatiel, Sydney is sitting on my chest. He yawns. I yawn. The parakeets, Frick and Frack, in a nearby cage yawn. Sydney yawns again. I can't help myself. I yawn. Frick and Frack stop chattering and yawn again. The cycle starts over. It's contagious. We're have a yawnfest in my office. Yawn. Maybe I'll take a nap. Someday this little episode will find its way into a story. Life provides endless stories to tap. You just have to look beyond what's happening like that big bright light in the sky heading for my house...

Under the Radar

We've all read books that fly under the radar a bit, maybe made a small splash, but is not talked about much later on. It may remain a guilty pleasure for you, the reader. Mine is "about the author" by John Colapinto. So, what's yours?

Over the Radar

We've all read books trumpeted as the second coming; however, when we read it, we go, "Huh, I don't get it." Mine is a book that has ended up on a few "top 100" lists, and the author is widely praised. My "I don't get it book" is "The Crying of Lot 49" by Thomas Pynchon. There's also a companion guide for this book. To me, that's always a bad sign when a book written in your own generation's time frame needs another book to explain it. So, what's yours?

We're Number 1 - Fooey!

Sure. Tell everyone. Forbes tabbed Raleigh-Cary, NC as the top place for jobs and living in the US. Now y'all be flocking to my neck of the woods. That's all I need--more construction. Just got my property tax bill - yikes! (But a heck of lot lower than NJ or WI.) Today: 100 (code orange air quality). 22/23 days without rain. Watch for Hurricane Dean to hit this area in nine days.

Write on! Write on!! Brothers and sisters, amen. Write on!!!

Thirty Days Before the Web

It's been a full cycle of the moon since I started this blog. What a great way to truly avoid studying for my PMI exam, looking for work, exercising my fat, writing the great American novel, cleaning the house, doing the yard work, picking vegetables in the garden, or visiting with family or friends. Because I'm constantly on the computer, I do get a lot of opportunities to visit other blogs and web pages, play freecell solitaire, answer my emails instantaneously, and tweak my blog. Hope you are enjoying it and find the links useful. I've tried to put up only the best, the rest can sit on my computer. But I've got to squeeze a few hours of writing in because...

...My protagonist is stuck in a swamp with alligators. His hands are handcuffed behind him, and he's got dead chickens from the recent heat wave tied to his belt. A dozen nasty dudes with Uzi's are after him with orders to kill, and the FBI doesn't care because he recently embarrassed them. His girlfriend just left him for Britney Spears, and his house burned down last night only hours after his insurance company terminated his contract because he didn't pay his premiums. His ex-wife still wants her alibi based on the wages he earned as a stockbroker from 1997-2000, and he has a cold. Did I mention he was blindfolded and hadn't eaten since the Krispy Kreme donut early in the morning. I'm sure if I took this to the Maass Seminars he'd say, "So why should I care about this guy, and can you up the tension a bit."

Okay. I'll give it a whack. He's the only person who can save Julianne Moore from the amorous charms of Austin Carr and defuse the bomb in Roger Moore's Porsche.

Hey, I wonder to where this link goes?

DA GUIDELINEZ #9

Scrutinize every use of "was" for passivity and weakness. Using "was" doesn't mean you are writing a passive sentence. However, it is the number one quick clue that you may be. Contrary to many "rules," passive sentences are not evil. In the right moment, genre, or scene, a passive sentence may be the perfect choice. Using "was" is easy. It may also create weak sentences even if they are not passive. Look it over. Is there a stronger way to write that sentence?

MMWUC for August 13, 2007

EXERCISE: Two soon-to-be famous authors, Donna (Shakespeare's inspiration) and Deidra (Marlowe's muse) strut up the center aisle of the classroom, dragging Will Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe--both sour faced--behind them like reluctant observers to an upcoming gladiatorial fight. Will is rail thin, a ghost of his former self; Marlowe's fingers drip translucent blood, ink, and booze. D-squared say in harmony to the assembled writers:

"Close your eyes tight like the night drawing nigh,
Catch your characters in loving embrace.
Release a held breath like a baby's sigh,
For ten minutes, write, 'The fool kissed her face...'"
"...and from the antagonist's P-O-V."
The instruction comes from a single voice.
"No, from the protagonist's P-O-V."
Comes the command for the opposite choice
As Diedra shouts, "Antagonist! I say."
Students place bets on the winner's name.
But Donna glares. "Protagonist! Today."
Smart writers capture words for later fame.

Willy groans. "We shall never be parted."
Chris: "Bloody sonnets. Let's go get wasted."

MUSINGS: Okay, this exercise (yes, there is an exercise buried in the sonnet) is an updated version of one I wrote a long time ago. I'd love to see D-squared's books come out in a matched set. That would really make the gloves come off in the respective Shakespeare and Marlowe camps. They could go on a book tour scripted like a WWF match. On some nights, the sheer weight of Shakespeare's writings would crush Deidra like a body slam from the Incredible Hulk. On other nights, Marlowe's wicked jabs would slice up Donna like Errol Flynn doing the Sheriff of Nottingham. They're still dotting I's and crossing t's in their respective tomes, but in today's publishing game, it's never too early to think about the marketing angles to produce a real winner. "And in this corner...."

Win a prize at Susan Goodwill's site, author of the Kate London mystery series. Ah, marketing.

Okay, what's in your wallet, er, marketing plan?