Books Near & Far

I've been away. I know how is that even possible from quarantine. Let's just say it was more metaphysical than actual. Combination of some good reads and a healthy dose of bingeable cable. In fact, when asked: "How you guys doin'?" I have taken to responding with: "My brother and I take easily to sloth."

But I have been neglecting The Bibliophile's Devotional, which has delivered some memorable offerings both old and new. First, from May 10th, the new. I have heard of Don DeLillo but not his 1985 book White Noise. It now awaits me on my kindle.

"A brilliant satire of mass culture and the numbing effects of technology, 

White Noise tells the story of Jack Gladney,

 a teacher of Hitler studies at a liberal arts college in Middle America."

Need I say more? Seriously, Hitler Studies.

Also published in 1985 comes Larry McMurtry's classic Lonesome Dove. A great read and one of the few novels that was adapted near perfectly to television. This was the May 19th selection from The Bibliophile's Devotional and the first of four straight days of wonderful reads.

May 20th brought Khaled Hosseini's The Kite Runner published in 2003 just two years after the United States got involved in Afghanistan the setting for the early part of the novel.

May 21st brings us Philip K. Dick's Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? which we all know was the basis for the film Blade Runner. Dick was a pioneer of science fiction and still one of my favorite writers in a genre filled with luminaries.

May 22nd finds us delving back to Animal Farm, George Orwell's allegorical tale from 1946, which rounds out the current book shelf suggestions from the Devotional.

Oxford English Dictionary

(original posting 5/23/2011)

I don't remember when I got my OED, I think it was a gift for ordering something or joining something else, maybe a donation. I got the compact two volume set with the magnifying glass in the little drawer at the top. I had no idea what I was missing before becoming the proud owner of an OED. It's stored with my other books in Ohio Michigan these days. But even in the age of the internet, there are many times each week I wish I had it sitting on a nearby shelf, the etymology alone is worth the weight of moving those monster tomes from place to place.

Recently (2011) I discovered some of the newer additions to the OED. I admit to being a bit surprised but then I remembered just how comprehensive it was. The OED now includes: LOL, FYI and yes even OMG!

Also added: donut hole, happy camper, la-la land, muffin top.

Further new entries include the five (or two, or three, or ten) second rule for retrieving and eating food that has fallen on the floor. Apparently, jelly side up has not made the cut yet, despite being a very important corollary to the ten second rule.

2020 additions: mentionitis, awesomesauce, safe space and shticky

other highlite additions since 2011: fake news, cheeselog, fundoscopy and whack-a-mole.

LINK to update list

Writin' or not

[original posting April 2009 ]

A writer is a person for whom writing is more difficult 

than it is for other people. -- Thomas Mann

There was a time in my mid-twenties when I was determined to be a writer. From that experience I can honestly say that determination has nothing to do with the task of being a writer. I suppose that is not a unique observation. Many endeavors require skill before commitment and at least for me, writing was one of them. If you can't you can't. Banging your head against a wall you have no chance of climbing or painting is just crazy. You know the old watching the movie over and over waiting for a different ending.

When writing finally came to me, it was completely unexpected and not something I was seeking. But there it was one day, my voice had found the tips of my fingers and I just started to write.

Which brings me to the last week or so. I have been banging on two screenplays, nibbling around the edges of my sci-fi book and churning out gobs on internet SEO material and even getting a head start on my summer WSOP obligations. But nearly every day I have returned to this blog and come up empty, blank, move on. What is that about?

I ran into an old friend who started a blog and has managed four posts in just under a year. I joined Twitter and found lots of folks have 140 character voices.

I think I will speculate myself out of my blog malaise. Blogging is a different form of writing, just google it. You will find cyber-reams of thoughts and even "rules" about what blogging is and is not. But from a personal level, there is an aspect of blogging that you either consider or you just accept and that is: Just how comfortable are you with putting your insides out there into the webosphere?

Where is your privacy line? What won't you disclose? What is truly private and off-limits? Once you think you know this, try to blog every third day. Eventually, I guarantee, your "third day" will be an off day for you. Something is not quite right with your world and, of course, that is what is up for you and "should" be blog fodder. But you hesitate.

There really are rules of blogging. The ones that are important reside inside of you, in your heart, in your soul, in some deep dark recessed places. Until you come to grips with them, you will either show up only on the surface of your writing or you will post pictures of baked goods and sunsets. Nothing wrong with that, we just are more interested in hearing from your inner writer.

2019 - the same rule applies to your novel, if your brain or heart or soul ain't in it . . .

The Benefits of Writing

[first posted November 2015]

Write two paragraphs and call me in the morning.

"Science has good news for people who write: The consequences of putting pen to paper go beyond hand cramps and furrowed eyebrows. Study after study has linked the act of writing to myriad mental and physical health benefits, including elevated mood and emotional well-being, decreased stress, an improved ability to deal with trauma and even physical healing."

FULL ARTICLE from whence come these conclusions.

Upon Attempting to Be a Novelist [early reflections]

[originally written June 2011]

All praise to any novelist who takes us out onto thin ice, under which large, dark shapes are discernibly swimming. Michael Cunningham

As a rule it is not a good idea to tell someone a story before you write it. Any comments or feedback will distort your vision before you have committed the words to paper or cyber-storage. About eight months ago I told two good friends and trusted critics the first part of my novel. I had what I thought were all 35,000 words written and I was interested in their reaction to the big reveal that finishes part one. Indeed it was at this point all of my large, dark shapes came into view and I did indeed have my readers out on very thin ice without them even noticing they had been led out onto a lake.

Unfortunately, neither of them liked the dark turn my story takes and I was concerned that the tale was way off track. So I turned back to the pages and began to edit, I could have simply changed the big reveal but I was sure I had it right. Must have been the lead-up twas lacking. After several weeks the 35,000 words had burgeoned to 63,000 and I sent the newly fattened part one out to six readers, including those same two I had verbally told the story. Lo and behold none of them were put off by the big reveal, in fact, the two who had been less than lukewarm originally were glowing with their praise.


I pondered this for a few moments and realized I had attempted to condense my well structured dark forms into a two minute verbal summary. Clearly, darkness needs some time to build. I needed those thousands of words to lure my readers out onto the dangerously thin ice and then and only then to reveal the sinister shadows beneath them. 


Lesson learned, I ain't tellin' nobody no stories no more; at least not ones that are going to take tens of thousands of words to deliver all the darkness and shadows.

Grammarly

There are lots of sites on the web to correct your spelling, add or subtract commas and, heaven forbid, locate the evil passive voice. I go with grammarly even though I employ some punctuation usages they do not agree with.

Careful though, as with any "know-it-all' algorithm, grammarly has its detractors. I agree that writers can get lazy when an authoritative website gives its imprimatur to our well-crafted phrases. To avoid such slavish bowing to the cyber-gods, read this article before turning over more that 12.7% of your creative talent to a bot grammar bully.

On the other hand, who knew how many times you or I were using "just" or "very" or "really." No, really, just really, very often, really!

Scribophile

There are lots of writing schools, writing workshops, writing communities on and off the web. I just happen to prefer Scribophile. The basics are simple. You earn points by offering critiques of other member's work. You then use those points to post your own work in chunks of 3,000 words or less at a time.

At Scribophile you can post anything from poetry and flash fiction to short stories or chapters of your novel. I am currently reposting the first ten chapters of my novel - Grey Angel. This round of posting comes after a course of new editing invigorated by my recent online immersion in manuscript submission.

You can also participate in forum discussions on all aspects of writing or join groups that focus on a particular topic. I belong to groups aimed at Magical Realism, Novel Chapters and TLC - Tough Love Critiques. Be careful not to use these alternative activities as pencil sharpening. The site is most useful when you post your own work and write reviews for other writers. Though the periodic contests can be fun.

Let me know if you join, I'm always happy to lend a blue pen to a friend's words.

Writing Inspiration (from a decade ago)

These thoughts were originally posted 9 Nov. 2009

At least half of all writing involves just sitting and staring into space. 

Letting your brain out to hunt down ideas, 

bringing them back all warm and bloody between its teeth. 

 - Warren Ellis

I consider myself a master of sitting and staring into space. I also have graduate training which includes wandering in the woods, vegetating on the veranda and a certificate in morning meditation disguised as sleeping in. Ideas come to me in all of these and many other places, however, I have yet to sink my metaphorical fangs into a single one of them. No, my process is more welcoming. I tend to nurture a new idea, giving it a proverbial saucer of milk.

I don't like to take notes unless the idea comes to me as I drift off at night. All writers abhor the thought of waking in the morning with no chance of recalling what the Pulitzer idea was they had the night before. But unless I am about to commune with Morpheus, I prefer to wander a bit, perhaps take a walk or at least pace about a snow bound house and let a new idea percolate and flourish.

Some new ideas are just scenes that may be part of a story yet undiscovered. All I really need is some time to lock the key pieces into memory where it can await the rest of the story from which it has prematurely erupted. There are times when a day or two later, I check my mental, paper or cyber notes to find what I have is not a scene from a story but, in fact, a blog post. Something like this one today.

Pondering Warren Ellis' rapine writing habits, I wonder if I might add a touch of the carnivore to my sitting and staring routine. Gives a whole new perspective to the practice of vegetating. Perhaps the tone and tenor is different when one ravages an idea.

---

photo credit: archives

Grey Angel - First Page

GREY ANGEL

Chapter One (first page)

The water was searing cold. At 5 a.m. no one had drunk from the silver metal fountain for hours, the water had taken on a throat-numbing chill. David felt the frigid outline of his esophagus as he swallowed, he could sense the upper reaches of his stomach as the cold rush swept the oxycodone tablet down. The clock was running, in less than fifteen minutes the first warm wave of the opioid would wash over him.

He turned from the brightly lit, empty emergency room and passed through the oversized gurney doors out onto the ambulance bay. Beyond the protecting pergola the vacant parking lot was wet from a passing spring rain, he walked slowly across the staff lot towards the stairs that led to the larger upper visitor’s parking area.

A distant observer might have wondered at the age of the man climbing those stairs. Was he 70? Or perhaps 80? What arthritic disease so wracked his body that he had to haltingly and carefully ascend the staircase?

Thirty-four-year old David Iverson reached the threshold of the upper lot just as the rising sun cast a pink glow across the damp tarmac. The pavement rose evenly across several hundred feet to a stand of maple trees at the upper edge of the parking area. Up there at the top, a path led through the grove to a small corner park and his neighborhood beyond.

David began a slow, measured walk up the incline. With each step, he added a few centimeters to the length of his stride and felt the deformed muscles of his lower back stretch as he transferred his weight onto the upslope leg. This dawn ritual relieved some of the accumulated stiffness from his desk bound midnight shift spent sifting endlessly through patient charts.

He was no more than half way up the empty lot when he first noticed the figure under the trees. Too early for the local dog walkers and there weren’t any homeless in this part of town. The man was a bit too deep in the shadows to distinguish; the dawning light had not chased away the shaded area under the stand of trees quite yet. As David moved closer, he momentarily thought the man was part of the shadows beneath the trees, a not quite a fully formed figure. A few more steps and he realized the murky effect was enhanced because the stranger was dressed entirely in grey. Grey slacks, grey jacket, even grey shoes and wait what?

Were those really?

David stopped just short of the tree line.

“Very nice,” David said, in a voice tinged with mirth not quite laughter.

“Could you be more specific?” said the shadowy figure.

“Nice wings?” David replied.

The stranger came forward out of the shade and there standing just under the lowest boughs of the tree was an angel. To be more precise – an all grey angel.

Grey Angel - First Paragraph

Paragraph icon from Free Icon Library

The water was searing cold. At 5 a.m. no one had drunk from the silver metal fountain for hours, the water had taken on a throat-numbing chill. David felt the frigid outline of his esophagus as he swallowed, he could sense the upper reaches of his stomach as the cold rush swept the oxycodone tablet down. The clock was running, in less than fifteen minutes the first warm wave of the opioid would wash over him.

Coming soon, the entire first page and that's all you get of Grey Angel. Want more? You'll just have to wait for a publisher, just like I wait and wait and wait.

Of course, I didn't mean you, you can have more.

Grey Angel - First Sentence

The first sentence. An author's first and perhaps only chance to hook a reader. There are readers who stand in bookstore aisles and read only the first page, the first paragraph, the very first sentence before deciding whether or not to read on and perhaps purchase.

Here is the first line of my novel - Grey Angel.

The water was searing cold.

What is your initial reaction?

Yes, I have had feedback from several beta readers. And yes, some of them have asked if 'searing' doesn't imply hot not cold. Searing is defined as extremely hot or intense. I have considered using a less forceful word. But I am resisting the change because the juxtaposition does get nearly every reader thinking - just how cold is searing cold? So cold that it burns?

I won't make you wait for the whole first paragraph, here is the next line.

The water was searing cold. 

At 5 a.m. no one had drunk from the silver metal fountain for hours, 

the water had taken on a throat-numbing chill. 

Grey Angel - The Hook

You gotta have a great hook. You gotta have it ready when anyone asks: "What's your novel about?" It has to draw their attention but it must be short and quick. It's a hook after all.

For a couple of years my novel's hook has/had been:

"David meets an angel. Things get very dark, very quickly."

Recently, I have been working on all aspects of actually submitting my novel to agents and publishers. Part of that task was to rework and refine my query letter, synopsis and hook. Here's my current hook:

"The angel is here to grant a supernatural ability. 

Of all the possible gifts, David is offered - death."

Wanna you think?

Good? 

Could be better? 

You're hooked!

Resurrecting a Blog

I am once again focusing my literary abilities on my novel, Grey Angel. To that end I am just finishing a course on manuscript submission, agents and publishers. A week four assignment suggests establishing an "Author's Platform" on social media. First recommendation - a blog.

It just so happens I have this little grey blog with over 1300 posts. Seems like a good place to begin. So once again dear readers, I relaunch this blog with yet another new focus - my writing. Expect my first sentence, first page and first chapter to follow soon.

I will begin with a recommendation. If you have a partial or whole manuscript lingering in a drawer somewhere, you might consider the course I am taking: The Writer's Workshop at Authors Publish. It worked for me, if only to provide motivation and polish to what I already had languishing in my "to-do" folder.

Four weeks of focus on:

                                        Preparing Your Manuscript for Publication

                                        How to Craft a Query Letter

                                        Publishers & Agents

                                        The Mechanics of Submitting

If you're interested, subscribe to the free newsletter which will get you an announcement of the next course offering. BTW, the newsletter is full of up-to-date information on publishers open to submissions.

Yes, there are many similar courses out there. If you've taken one, add a comment and let me know your experience.

More Thoughts on Writing

The difference between the right word and almost the right word is the difference between lightning and lightning bug.  - Mark Twain

I have been reading the draft of a friend's novel. I find it most interesting that his writing issues are so very different than mine. He struggles to find a voice his audience will hear or maybe it's a voice that will adhere. I, on the other hand, know my audience and write directly to them.

He sometimes overthinks his prose and uses the BIG word when the little one works better. Which is not to say I am an advocate of the Keep It Simple theory of writing. No, I'm a big word guy myself but there are times when it feels like showing off, which can really annoy the reader.

Another major difference we have is that my friend writes the story as it pours out of him. He doesn't know where it's going. I have dabbled with this ultra free form adventure writing but find I am more comfortable knowing the end of the story before I begin. 

Did you know J.K. Rowling wrote the final scene of the seventh and last Harry Potter book before she wrote word one of book one?

As I write this, a little voice reminded me that the end of my novel (Grey Angel) did not have a satisfactory resolution until I was a third of the way into it. So maybe my friend and I are not all that different after all.

Oh, and my apologies to regular readers. I know you have become accustomed to one post a week on Friday, but I just couldn't help myself last Monday. Sometimes you just have to say it outloud.

Some Thoughts on Writing

The dubious privilege of a freelance writer is he's given the freedom to starve anywhere.  

- S. J. Perleman

I've be laboring on my most recent book for a solid three months now. I can see the light at the end of the editing tunnel and think this one will make it to the agent this fall. In addition to the book, I keep this blog alive, though on a now greatly reduced weekly basis and I write for a couple of websites that actually send me money for my words.

I like the mix of genres I have arranged for myself to ruminate and speculate on. Something about jumping between worlds, fictional and semi-real. It is my hope, plan, promise to return later this fall to my novel, which cries out for completion. Soon, my lovely Grey Angel, soon.

Feedback?

Over the last decade I have written for a dozen or so websites. Most of the work is background or SEO content. Search Engine Optimization for those not into cyber jargon. During this time I have received a lot of feedback from editors, content managers, public relations specialists; you get the point.

Each website has a theme or a "voice" they wish to project and often times it takes some back-and-forth to get in synch with what they are looking for. More often than not the editorial suggestions are constructive. Writers tweak our work to fit the tone of the website.

It's often good work for decent pay until it isn't. The internet is ephemeral.

However, and I do mean however. This last week I got a one sentence rejection based on a spec article I wrote for a website I thought would be a good fit for my work. I offer you the befuddling feedback I received without further comment.

"Your approach to the topic and your research is simply too intelligent for our needs."

Just a Thought and a Feeling

"Writing is a socially acceptable form of 

getting naked in public."

- Paul Coelho

". . . even more so these days is the act of blogging."

- me

Kurt Vonnegut on Writing

 “I try to keep deep love out of my stories because, once that particular subject comes up, it is almost impossible to talk about anything else. Readers don’t want to hear about anything else. They go gaga about love. If a lover in a story wins his true love, that’s the end of the tale, even if World War III is about to begin, and the sky is black with flying saucers.”    To the Paris Review, 1977.

I've Been Thinking

I saw my first case of internet addiction recently and I don't just mean someone glued to their computer screen. The person I refer to was experiencing withdrawal symptoms after less than 24 hours off the computer. Symptoms strong enough to warrant medication, if you believe in the science behind tranks. I know, I know, it snowed a lot in Boston, global warming must be a liberal hoax.

But I digress . . .

I am reviewing my own online activities to determine the cost/benefit of my time there. I think, like most addicts, I have control of the urges that call me. Being a psychologist, researcher and pseudo-scientist I am undertaking a methodical review.

At this point, I have a couple of observations.

A. My overall web-surfing commitment has only slightly increased; however, social media, in particular Facebook, has replaced a good portion of the time I had previously devoted to national and international online newspapers. There certainly is a correlation to one's overall understanding of world affairs based on where you get your news. I wouldn't want my views to be Facebook formatted. On the other hand, the Daily Show remains a stolid source of commentarial sense and nonsense.

B. I do not have social media connections other than on my home computer. No cell phone surfing, no tablet, I can't even spell PDA. I generally don't carry my cell with me, only on long trips. Outside of the apartment, I am not connected, not sending, not receiving. When I walk out of a theatre I am discussing the performance with whomever attended with me, as opposed to the younger half of the audience who are texting their experience before Arlo has left the building.

C. Unfortunately, I have seen one too many "15 Most Exciting Ways To Something or Another" and I know way too much about what happened to the cast of M*A*S*H and Welcome Back Kotter. And the cats, don't even mention the cats. Did you see the one with the jaguar and the crocodile?

D. On the other hand, I am now in contact with friends from 50+ years ago. Some of those rekindled friendships have become very gratifying and I'm not even going to mention the shared recipes for all things chocolate.

Digressing again.

I'm going to continue to mince around with these ideas for a week or so, but I can say I am considering at least a month long break from sharing any more pictures of my lunch, my million coin win on MyVegas or my deeply held feelings about bigotry disguised as religion.

So, on social media use -- How about you? The comments are open.

Glass Teat Nostalgia

Similitude on Friday, Exposition on Monday