Bougainvillea Halfheart Surprise

May 30th, 2008

Due to some imbecilic work botheration, Papillion closed at 27,900 words today, some 600 behind schedule. Tomorrow I must not only make up this deficit and finish the usual quota, but also write ahead for Sunday, due to a small trip, or I’ll be catching up all next week.

“Imbecilic” is a word I’ve been using a lot lately. It’s so much more satisfying than “idiotic” or “stupid”. “Cretinous” is another good word.

Finished “The Magic Labyrinth.” Read the 500-page book in about three days, so that should tell you a thing or two about its quality. Today I began “The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle” by Haruki Murakami. I took books from my shelf at random, giving them a chance to catch my attention with the first sentence. This book beat “Hyperion” and “Ilium,” both by Dan Simmons. Someone needs to work on his opening paragraphs!

(Just kidding, Mr. Simmons. I love you. Please give me one of your Hugos.)

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Hedge Narrowed Recumbency Drop

May 29th, 2008

Papillion’s at 25,800 words - 300 above quota.

Currently reading: “The Magical Labyrinth,” by Philip Jose Farmer, the fourth and final (?) in his Riverworld series. It’s an incredible story. I’ve been reading this series for over 1200 pages, and the fourth book is undiluted gratification.

Last week I finished “Something Wicked this Way Comes,” by Ray Bradbury. I read “Fahrenheit 451″ in middle school, and some of his short stories a few years ago; they didn’t impress me. SWTWC is a triumph. I’m sure you have some idea of the plot. It’s the original evil-carnival-comes-to-town story. But the carnival is almost metaphorical. The real story is the maturation of its protagonists. The novel is a farewell letter to boyhood, written in Bradbury’s middle age. It’s filled with sweet memories of innocence, innocent debauchery, innocent raucousness, and the bittersweet loss of those idylls through the traumatic process of aging, and how they may be reclaimed, through some extent and in a different way, later in life.

It’s also a study of the nature of evil and why it conflicts with good, why good is driven to contest it, why it must. These truths are so profound as to be obvious, but Bradbury’s exploration rescues them from the banal.

The star of the show is the prose. It’s dazzling; intoxicating; magical; surreal. It’s effectively scary, which most “horror” works are not. Bradbury’s use of language is so inventive that he shatters the brain-to-brain barrier through which all writers struggle, beaming his ideas directly into your mind. Part of this is his frequent use of functional shifts - that’s when a writer uses a noun as a verb or an adjective as a noun or whatever. This technique lets Bradbury cram every sentence with startling and vivid imagery. There’s not an empty word or an idle sentence in the book.

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Machine Screeth Arable

May 26th, 2008

Papillion: 22,200 words. 300 behind quota. Yesterday’s installment included a hilarious yet titillating sex scene. I haven’t written many sex scenes, because they’re very hard to get right. All I’ll tell you about this one is that it includes the sentence “Now gallop, boy!”

Some writers scoff at the idea of quotas, saying that you can’t force the muse. If you do, obviously, the product will feel forced and the lack of inspiration and fun in the piece will be evident. William Styron (Sophie’s Choice) worked that way, sometimes producing only a paragraph a day. He only wrote four novels in his long life, but they were among the greatest of modern American fiction. Not everyone has his talent, of course, or his financial freedom. For humble pulp authors, regular production is a must.

I have a quota because it’s the only way I can get through a novel. I began and discarded three novels because I tried to write only when inspiration hit; they never went anywhere, and I worried that I’d never produce a novel and never become (what I considered to be) a “real writer”. When I threw myself into last fall’s NaNoWriMo, though, I actually produced a hundred thousand words in a few months. I learned I could do it, but only as long as I forced myself.

The thing is, it’s not working without a muse. It’s not some sort of inspiration-less grind. When you apply discipline to your writing schedule, you learn quickly that you can make your own inspiration. Your muse works for you, not the other way around. You produce, you create, you become adept at slipping into the realm of thought with a minute’s notice. (Until one day you vanish altogether, leaving a pair of glasses and a mug of cold coffee in front of the laptop, and are never seen again - poor wife and children!)

Anthony Trollope might be the most known quota writer. He produced a set number of words every day, without fail, and if he finished his quota but not his sentence, he would come back to that sentence the next day, by God. If he finished a novel and still had words left to reach his quota, he would go right into the next novel at the same sitting. He wrote on vacations. He wrote on trains. He wrote forty-eight novels averaging 150,000-180,000 words, towering, colossal novels. Trollope was no genius; among 19th century British novelists, he was a distant second to Dickens, Thackeray, Austen, the Brontes… but they were geniuses. I am not a genius, so I must make a quota, and maybe, maybe, I can do half as well for myself as Trollope did.

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Ice Scholar Outpost Alpha

May 25th, 2008

Papillion: 21,000 words. It’s so good. I can’t wait for you to read it.

What did I write today? Papillion has found his way to Paris, and lucked into the friendship of Gaspard the Magus Magnus and his wife, Tatienne. They’ve found him employment at a patisserie owned by Tricol, who is described thusly:

“She was a dollop of fat swathed in a sail of white linen, armed with fortitudinous elbows, a piercing pinpoint glare, and swift, pointed feet, which now kicked a scrap-questing cat in its friable ribs. Her temper carried her visibly; Papillion could see the force of her anger and destruction moving her as the lines move the marionette. This anger had as its focus her faint blonde moustache, which bristled as if charged with lightning.”

Amusing, n’est-ce pas? After this, Papillion meets the anti-love of his life, the bewitching, or just plain witching, Volumnia, and he throws himself headfirst into more trouble than he can imagine. Volumnia is described thusly:

” [...] the most beautiful in the world, he was sure. She was tall and thin, raw-boned and pale, but with an active heart that flooded her breast, throat, and face with hot blood at an impulse of emotion. Her dark hair was tied in back like a horse’s tail, and her eyes were tar pits.”

Evocative, non? Ah, what sort of book is this? I have no clue, but I’m excited about it.

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Alex Burns at EDF

May 23rd, 2008

Alex’s 1000-word mystery, “Aftershocks,” is up at world-conquering flash fiction page, Every Day Fiction. Read it! It’ll take you ten minutes. This is my favorite of all of Alex’s short-shorts. (That hyphen is important. I am not talking about Alex’s hot pants.)

Posted in My Talented Friends | 2 Comments »

Fletching Glaive Cod Hell

May 23rd, 2008

Papillion” hit 18,000 words today. Score!

I spent some time catching up on critiques for my good ol’ writing group. Critiquing, the jolly dissection of someone else’s hard work, is an educational experience. Reading unrevised works with an especially critical eye, you detect weaknesses of prose, structure, or storytelling that would be weeded from a more polished story. (Please note that my writing group produces stories of uncommonly high caliber. All values of quality in this blog post are relative!) In so detecting, you learn to avoid these errors in your own works. Or, you might learn from something that your friend did right, something you wish you did, and you quietly steal that something and wait for an opportunity to bring it back in another form. Hee hee.

And I want to tell you of one of the stories I read. It’s called “Bridge Club,” by Erin, and it’s hilarious and subtle and joyful to read. I wish I had written it. I’m sure I’ll be able to link to it sometime soon.

Posted in My Talented Friends, Papillon, Writing | 1 Comment »

Novice Grenade Edge

May 22nd, 2008

Papillion hit 16,500 words today! 18,000 tomorrow - 30,000 by the end of the month! Watch me go!

As you can see, we’ve got a great new piece of art for the web page. Nothing says “Take me seriously” like a brightly colored dinosaur header. Thanks to Joel for his hard work on the web page!

The wikipedia entry on “nose picking” is hilariously matter-of-fact. Just click here. It’s worth your time. Did you know? Another word for nose-picking is “rhinotillexis”. That makes sense.

While you’re there, check out the entry for “toast”. I’m thrilled that someone took the time to share such insights with us as “Toast is sliced bread which has been browned by exposure to dry heat (”toasted”)” and “Toast is a common component of many breakfasts”.

In other news, I’ll be posting weekly flash pieces right here, on the web page! I hope to persuade my good friends Joel and Katie (click their links, there, on the sidebar!) to illustrate these, and thereby build a regular weekly readership. Our armies will mass in Alaska, Greenland, and Central America. I always go for North America first; it doesn’t offer as many armies per turn as Asia, but it’s far easier to hold.

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A short work of fiction

May 20th, 2008

It was a dark and stormy cliche

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“All Things Are Lights”

May 20th, 2008

Last night I finished reading “All Things Are Lights,” by Robert Shea.

This book is set during the Albigensian Crusade of the 13th century, and Louis IX’s failed crusade to Egypt. I’ve read two others historical fictions by Shea, his Japanese epic “Shike” and his “Saracen” books, both of which I considered excellent. Shea has very little in the way of a personal style, and, as a prosist, I would even call him weak; however, his skill at storytelling more than compensates for that.

His style is bland, yet effective. He errs on the side of under-writing. But that’s not the main draw in his novels. His characters are well-developed and interesting, his use of history is compelling, and his eye for the moral question is masterful.

His novels are subversive in that way. One picks them up expecting sword-filled entertainment, and instead you get heartfelt meditations on violence. Even when he writes about a very narrow era - ten years of medieval France, in this book - Shea seems to address the whole of human history, and particularly the problem of violence in history. He writes of wars and bloody battles, and it’s exciting and well-depicted, but he makes you question the necessity of violence at every turn.

This leads to the creation of an odd sort of protagonist. His heroes usually begin as typical warriors or soldiers, but begin to question their actions and the actions of their enemies through the course of the story. By the end they are conscientious to a fault. If they slay their mortal enemies, they do it as a sad necessity. Or, if they are defeated, they accept it stoically. For, by the end of the book, they have grown past the need for violence as a solution, though they remain mired in a world that understands nothing else. It’s a strange fit in a genre that usually has no qualms about mass deaths; indeed, a genre that revels in violence. How many works of historical fiction are there that aren’t about war?

Shea’s approach to the problem of violence in human history is refreshingly mature, and makes an interesting foil to Sabatini’s supermen.

As for “All Things Are Light” in particular, I found it superior to “The Saracen,” behind “Shike.” The plot is well-executed, and the history is used to good effect; I have since worked the Cathars into “Papillion”. The characters, as usual, all have compelling motivations and desires, making for a gripping read.

A note on the text. My copy was purchased on lulu.com. Since the original book had gone out of print, Robert Shea’s son released it under a Creative Commons license as print-on-demand. The title page tells me that it was formatted with Open Office, and the text was riddled with typos and formatting errors - question marks instead of em-dashes, pronouns gender-switched, breaks where there should not be breaks, and vice versa. It was a jarring read. However, I get the impression that Mike Shea and maybe a friend or two typed the whole thing by hand into Open Office, working from an old hard copy, so I can’t hold the errors against them. I’m indebted to the work he (or they) invested so that others could read this beautiful book.

Now I’m reading: “Something Wicked This Way Comes,” by Ray Bradbury. Usually, while writing a novel, I try to read books from which I can take something for my own novel. However, in this work, Bradbury writes so supremely that there is nothing I can use. I feel like a finger-painting chimp studying Rembrandt.

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Word Count.

May 20th, 2008

13500. I’m right on quota.

Yesterday, Papillion escaped from a band of knights and pirates, started a fire that claimed many lives, and finally made it to Paris. End of Part I. Today I’ll hit 15000 words - 30000 by the end of the month! Work continues apace!

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First

May 19th, 2008

In a totally intentional effort, the old webpage under b2e was completely destroyed somehow. You may have noticed. Now it’s all wordpress, sweet, sweet wordpress! Stay tuned for big and exciting updates coming to this page! Yo!

Posted in Anomalous | 3 Comments »