Vanity vs. Creativity

Maisy ate waffles this morning. Drowned in syrup and butter. She lined clothespins up around the plate in a semi-circle. Like sentries.
She took a bite of her food, let syrup drip down her chin, opened her mouth, and roared at the clothespins.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

She inclined her head toward the small soldiers, dark with age, surrounding her plate. "They are watching the giant eat at the museum."

Beautiful, blond-haired, blue-eyed Maisy had transformed herself into a hideous, snarling giant. She tormented the small grouping of wooden men, huddled together around her giant's trough.

I thought about Halloween this year. Other girls her age dressed like Snow White. J. Lo. Princesses. Divas.

Maisy begged to wear her dad's "scary" zombie mask.

This morning, as happens so often with regard to my children, I marveled at the inner beauty of this child. Part of that beauty is her indifference to the physical attributes of herself and others. She has the drive...the hard-wiring...to put creativity above vanity.

As I continued to watch the giant at the museum, she devoured her waffles, collected the clothespin sentries and quickly assembled them into a telephone receiver.

Then she called me.

I answered on my air phone. "Hello."

"ROAR," said the giant.

Have I mentioned my kids are way cool?

Bitternest by Alan Draven

It has been far too long since my last post. For all you horror fans...be sure to check out my interview with indie author Alan Draven by clicking here.

Mr. Draven lives in Montreal, Quebec and is a prolific author of short stories and novels. He's also started a new publishing company called Pixiedust Press.

His latest anthology, Sinister Landscapes (pictured above) including numerous short stories from new indie authors, is to be released this fall (Halloween!!).

You can visit Alan at www.alandraven.com.

For more great author interviews, visit me at home. www.jbkohl.com.

Warders of the Gate by Mark Murray

Mark Murray is one of the very talented authors at Arctic Wolf Publishing. He runs the e-zine Arcane Twilight. Last week he agreed to answer some of my many questions and I have posted his answers here for your reading pleasure. Enjoy!!

Last week, I interviewed a new talent in the fantasy writing field. Mark Murray is experienced in short story writing and runs the e-zine Arcane Twilight. Today's post is a copy of his interview.
Tell us about Warders of the Gate. It's part of a trilogy, correct?

Warders of the Gate is part of a planned trilogy, yes. With Warders of the Gate,
I've set the stage for the war and introduced some main characters. The background
to the warders is that elves have built four magical gateways from their world into the
land of Rhillai.

To keep the gates secure, the elves have magically altered humans into
being able to shape-change into animals. These shape-changers are the warders for
the gates and only they can open the gates. Rhillai has nine duchies and two dwarven kingdoms. The duchies are ruled by a High King. But, the seat of the High King is vacant. Warders of the Gate sets up the war for someone to be High King. To make matters
worse, a mage, Alisandra, has opened a gateway to another world to allow an evil army,
the Hylnan, to enter Rhillai.

The second book, War of the Gates, deals with the alien Hylnan conquering everything
in their path, five dukes uniting to take control of the other duchies and the gates because a
one in five chance at High King is much better than one in nine, and lastly, there is one duke
fleeing with her army to eventually join with a small band of dwarves, warders, and dragons. I have one strong female lead in Warders of the Gate with Alisandra, the mage behind letting
the Hylnan through. And I have one strong female lead in War of the Gates with Duke Rachel
Iorion.

But, the idea that I keep throughout the whole story is that no character is safe. Some will be killed.

In addition to novel writing, you are also an accomplished penner of short stories. Do you have a preference for writing short stories vs. novel length fiction?

I actually don't have a preference right now. I continue to write both short stories and novels.
The hard part is finding the time to get them all done.

When you're not writing, what do you read?

I really love Robert B. Parker's writing. I've read all the Spenser novels at least twice and I'm trying to read the rest of the Jesse Stone series. I used to love to read fantasy, scifi, and horror, but now that I'm actually writing them, I find that I don't read them as much.It's weird. I used to go into bookstores and head straight for the fantasy/scifi section. Now, I tend to just roam around looking for something to pique my interest. And I read online forums that pertain to martial arts like aikido and kali/silat.

Let's talk about craft a little bit. As a writer, do you prefer to tell your story in first
person or third person...or does it depend on the work? Do you prefer single point
of view or multiple point of view?

Um, yeah. I'm really bad about first/third person and single/multiple views. For me, it does depend on the work or story. And after reading tons of books from unknown authors to bestsellers, I've seen all kinds of variations. That tells me, in the end, that what matters isn't the view but the story being told. If you can convey a great story in just first person, it's still a great story. If you can convey a great story using variations, it's still a great story.

What are you working on now? Do you ever find yourself working on multiple projects?

I'm working on:
1. War of the Gates, the next book in the Rhillai series.
2. The second book to Power Play, no title yet. Power Play is mysecond written novel,
but it hasn't been published yet.
3. A western novel, no title yet.
4. Short stories for DargonZine.5. I have a horror novel started, but it is on hold right now because of the above projects. I have a scifi story in my head that's been waiting years (probably ten or so) for me to sit down and type it out. So, yes, I work on multiple projects. I have stories floating around in my head that stay there until I type them out. And I don't write with pen or pencil or typewriter. I've neverbeen able to do that. I'm weird that way. I can only type them onto a computer.

Tell us about your web-zine Arcane Twilight. How did it come to be?

I was writing for DargonZine and wanted another outlet for stories. DargonZine is a great
place to write, but it is a shared world and as such has boundaries. Stories are set within
that shared world. If anyone ever wants some great experience with writing, including getting
your stories critiqued by all other writers, then DargonZine is a great place to be. My writing improved dramatically because of DargonZine. So, yes, I plug it when I can because of the value.

On the down side, if you want to write scifi or horror, you have to go elsewhere. So, another writer, Carlo Samson, and I decided to start an E-Zine for fantasy, scifi, and horror stories. In fact, we've even showcased artwork. Arcane Twilight was startedas a personal outlet for writing other stories and it grew from there.

You mention you are working on several other projects, including a western. Do you find you prefer writing in one genre over another?

So far, not really. With fantasy, I don't have as much research to do. With the western,
I had quite a bit more but that's because there are real events, real places, and real
people in the setting. You just can't make it all up like in fantasy. While I don't have a
preference, I am finding that other genres can have significantly more research time.

Do you still have a "day job?" or have you attained what all writers want...the ability to write full time?
It would be great to write full time, but alas, I'm still one of the majority that has a day job. I'm thankful that it's mostly Monday-Friday though. I also have martial arts a minimum of four days a week and sometimes five. Toss in regular chores, family time, book signings, seminars, etc and I really could use more hours in the day.

Do you have any advice or words of encouragement for writers working toward getting published?

I've found two major things. The first is keep writing. I know it's silly and it's what a lot of other authors say, but it's a basic truth. Most professional athletes practice insane hours of the day and week. Olympic level athletes go beyond that. Top tier musicians live and breathe their work. Why should writers be any different?

Enter contests, write for fun, join a writing group, submit pieces for publication, take
a writing class, etc. I sent a short story to Marion Zimmer Bradley long, long ago for her MZB Fantasy magazine. It was rejected, but MZB sent a handwritten note in the return letter. I had
understood exactly what my story was about, but as a new writer, I didn't let that come through in the story. Naturally, MZB hadn't understood the story either, but her reply helped me to realize my errors. I kept writing and trying to get better, but had I not sent that in, then I might not have realized I had a big hole in my writing.The second is don't give up. Just because a publishing house has rejected your work doesn't necessarily mean it is badly written or not worth publishing. Publishing houses are businesses and they look for specific trends to publish. Your piece might not fit that trend rather than it being horribly written.

Stormdragon by Lloyd Ritchey

On May 30^th, I had the pleasure of interviewing the author of the technothriller, Stormdragon by Lloyd Ritchey. Lloyd is one of Arctic Wolf’s authors and is a talent to watch. This blog post is a reprint of that interview. Enjoy!!

I just finished reading your book, STORMDRAGON. (And LOVED it!) Tell us a little bit about it.
Thanks, Jennifer, for your kind remarks about my book. I’m honored to participate in an interview.
The concept for Stormdragon had been brewing in the back of my mind for some time. After I learned about a government project called HAARP (High Frequency Active Auroral Research Program) I seized upon a plot. Some believe HAARP is far more than an innocuous research project; they believe it is a dangerous, clandestine weapon that can be easily abused. I took the HAARP concept, enlarged it, and asked "what if?"
Stormdragon is essentially a technothriller, with a heavy emphasis on exaggerated science, but it’s also solidly based upon historical fact and existing technology. And by the way, you don’t have to know anything about science to understand the book.
In the story, ordinary people stumble upon the truth behind the ARC Project, which is an installation like HAARP, only far larger and more powerful. The conspirators, who lust for ultimate power, are willing to use the ARC technology against anyone, even their own country, in order to implement their plan.

How did you come up with the title?
Titles, like cover artwork, are critically important. I think a title should entice, excite curiosity, and relate to the story without revealing too much.
In mythology, the Storm Dragon rides the violent storm and spouts lightning. The title flashed into my mind before I could actually find a solid tie-in to the novel. As the writing progressed, I realized Stormdragon actually worked on several levels; it is a metaphor for power, both that embodied in the terrifying machinery described in the story, and in the ruthlessly powerful conspirators who will do anything to further their agenda. It also has a direct relationship to a specific element that is revealed as the story unfolds.

Your prologue is fascinating. As I read it, I was reminded of the experiments in old movies...the rising platform, the enormous generators giving off electrical charges. Would you be willing to give us a little background on your experience with Tesla's works?
I have been fascinated by Nikola Tesla since I read Prodigal Genius, by John J. O’Neil, in the 7th grade. Tesla was a mega-genius, whose turn-of-the-century inventions gave us modern electricity, the radio, and much, much more. He was so advanced that the U.S. government, which confiscated his research papers upon his death in 1943, still holds some of those papers as classified. He is the archetypal "mad scientist" who influenced film and artwork. Ken Strickfaden, who built the scary machines for Universal’s Frankenstein, and other films, designed the labs to resemble Tesla’s.
I have been building and experimenting with Tesla apparatus, primarily the well-known, lightning-generating Tesla Coil, since junior high school. Tesla’s incredible, dramatic, and powerful inventions inspired much of the action in Stormdragon.
I’ve used Tesla Coils to produce electrical effects for stage and screen. I toured a Tesla system with the Doobie Bros. and Kansas back in the seventies, filmed T.C. effects to illustrate a screenplay, and demonstrated the system to Universal Studios, Warner Bros., and Disney. But, these are long stories!

Your book is packed with suspense. I had a difficult time tearing myself away once I sat down to read. Does the writing style you have come naturally/easily to you, or do you have to work to get the degree of suspense you want?
The suspenseful idea is there, its energy clamoring to be expressed. Once I decide what a scene or chapter should be, I can write it fairly quickly. But keeping a tight, meaningful story structure is a challenge for me. So, I’d say yes, I have to work hard to keep the suspense ramped up. But once I feel I’ve "got it," it’s a total blast, a catharsis.

You have a long history of writing...and even sold a screenplay in the past. First of all, tell us about the screenplay experience, if you would. Which do you prefer; writing a screenplay or a novel?
I sold a screenplay entitled Night of the Electric Death (no kidding!) to producer Warren Skaaren. I wrote the screenplay in three months. This was in 1974, and Skaaren had just completed work on Texas Chainaw Massacre. Skaaren bought the rights to the screenplay and brought director Tobe Hooper to my humble Dallas "studio" to see the electrical effects I had envisioned. There’s more to this story, but I digress.
I prefer writing novels. The main difference, for me, is that a novel requires far more skill in creating scenes; the reader must feel immersed in the scene through the author’s powers of description. A screenplay, of course, requires imagination, but it demands less description; you only have to indicate, for instance that the actors are afraid, or that the room is scary, or the atmosphere gloomy. That said, I know great screenplays require great skill. One has to know something of the production process, and have a sense of timing, structure, and dialogue. By the way, dialogue or narration that is to be spoken by an actor is a little different than dialogue that is to be silently read.
Would I write another screenplay? You bet—soon as I’m finished with my second novel!

Would you tell us a little about what you're working on now?
I’m in a time-management crisis! My second novel, a techno-horror, is about one-third finished, and I’m desperate to work on it. I just fired off a non-fiction proposal to a publisher who has shown interest, and if they go for it, we’re off to the races! Meanwhile, I need to add content to my Website (and my wife’s) and also start blogging.
I’m assembling a "dog and pony show" for book signings that I think may be somewhat unique, and I’d like to keep you posted as that develops. I don’t know if it’ll help book sales, but, like they say, keep barking up that tree…there might be a possum in it!

When you're not writing, what do you read...both for pleasure and regarding the craft of writing?
I read everything. My favorite thriller/horror writers are Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child. For horror I’ll go with Stephen King, Peter Straub (sometimes), Robert McGammon, and many others. I’ve found some gems in novels such as Whirlwind, by Joseph R. Garber, and The Breathtaker, by Alice Blanchard. Prey, by Graham Masterton, is a first-class creep-out.
Your book, The Deputy’s Widow, was the first in the noir genre I had read in many years. I don’t want to sound smarmy, so I’ll just say that I enjoyed it so much I’m reading Mickey Spillane and Dashiell Hammett, and will investigate more of the hard-boiled crime novels.
I once threw a lot of money at vendors of "How to Write" books, but can’t say any have been very helpful, and I actually disagreed with some of the authors! I found Stephen King’s On Writing not only instructive and informative, but also entertaining.

Do you (or would you ever) write in any genre other than science fiction/techno thriller?
Yes. The techno-horror I’m writing now is an example. But my strengths (I think) lie in capturing the dramatic moment and translating action into words. I love that feeling when a powerful scene manifests itself in words that bristle with energy.

What advice can you offer for writers trying to get published?
Initially, write in a genre that publishers can recognize. We’re all stuffed into boxes these days, so to get started, you may not want to be too experimental. Naturally, there are exceptions to this. Write what you enjoy.
A note here: Non-fiction is easier to sell than fiction, and you don’t have to write the whole thing up front!
Before submission, get as many critiques as you can, especially from people who don’t feel compelled to tell you they liked your book, i.e., get independent feedback. You might find some important flaws (and good stuff) after various people read your manuscript.
Have someone competent edit your manuscript. You just can’t successfully edit your own writing, even if you’re a grammar whiz.
Get the mechanical stuff right: paper, margins, headers, spacing, etc. Always find out how the publisher or agent wants his/her submission. Most of them have Websites. More and more are accepting digital submissions. Carefully read how they want material submitted. I found Attention-Grabbing Query & Cover Letters, by John Wood, and Formatting and Submitting Your Manuscript, by Jack and Glenda Neff, quite helpful. These are Writer’s Digest books.
I agree with Stephen King: you don’t always need an agent to get published. My wife’s first title, Woven Wire Jewelry, was rejected by a well known agent we met during a writer’s conference. This agent had expressed great interest and urged us to send a proposal. After the rejection, we submitted directly to Interweave Press, and in two weeks had a contract. Now my wife has published three books with Interweave.
Beware of cons. Check out potential agents and publishers. I recommend visiting www.anotherealm.com/prededitors/peba.htm. This Website is packed with useful information, and they help identify the bad guys.
Finally, you might try submitting to a small publisher like Arctic Wolf, a company that’s trying hard to assemble a stable of talented writers. With increasing competition and reduced sales, the big-name publishers are being advised to curtail acquisition of new writers and concentrate on promoting the authors they currently have.
If you’re interested in a specific publisher, read some of their books to see if the quality is there. Do you want to be in their company? If the publisher gets a bad name for poor product, it’s not going to help you.
Stay at it. Persist. Be prepared for rejection. Keep writing.
I wish you every success.

The Banana Man Can

He works in produce under a cloud of vegetable matter, avoiding shopping carts filled with all the things you can get at Super Wal-Mart. He is an island unto himself, never making eye contact with shoppers, never speaking to co-workers except through the subtle arch of an eyebrow or the barely perceptible lift of one shoulder. Screaming children do not faze him. Obese women on cabbage diets do not deter him from his goal…restocking the bananas.

Wheeled carts stacked to the toppling point with boxes bearing the DOLE BANANAS logo make their way from the back room, propelled past the nuts, garlic, potatoes, and onion bins to the enormous banana island that holds the place of honor in the center of the produce section.

One can feel the envy of the other produce workers as Banana Man maneuvers his load through throngs of customers ready to start their Memorial Day drinking early…tapping their toes as they await the latest shipment of non-organic bananas from Cuba…or somewhere. “If only I could be Banana Man for a day,” the other workers, shelving pre-packaged spinach and field greens say to themselves.

But Banana Man doesn’t hear this. He pushes back the top of the first box, his eyes focused on a point on the horizon somewhere over behind the seafood counter, and pulls bunches, two at a time, from the box. He moves quickly, nothing but a torso and legs in his dark blue shirt and khaki trousers…his hands are nothing but a blur. He turns on his heel and is gone, already on his way to fetch the next cart as the banana crowd sighs, “Oh my. Look at this, thirty-three cents a pound.”

I didn’t realize I noticed him or the ritual “unpacking of the bananas” until he was gone. And I didn’t realize I missed him until I saw him last week, back in produce, handling a tomato. “What,” I wondered, “debauchery is this? Where has he been and what is he doing with a tomato?”

I don’t know what he was doing handling that tomato. Chances are I’ll never know. But he is a character I’ve come to rely on here in the great state of Virginia. He helps to define my new home and he gives me something to wonder about. I’ve made up his whole story… where he came from and what he does after he goes home, where he was raised and why he likes produce so much.

Banana Man, what I know of him in the real world, appears to be anti-social. He does not smile. I’ve smiled at him a few times, desiring to know more about this bearer of produce. But he shuns me as he shuns all other shoppers, preferring instead to do his work…and only his work.

So why am I telling you about Banana Man? Because he is fascinating…like so many other people who carry out their jobs day after day…unnoticed and underappreciated. And because he inspires me. He reminds me to look to my environment for inspiration. Amazing people are everywhere…and it is imperative that a writer remember that.

Turning Left

Apollo likes to walk. We take him out with Rocky while Adrian stays at home. (Yes, our dogs are named for the Rocky movies.) Being a Doberman, with a splash of Black Lab thrown in just to keep us on our toes, Apollo isn’t satisfied with just “walking.” He thrusts his nose deep into the ground, snorting up anything that will fit into his blow-hole sized nostrils. And he’s not satisfied to walk leisurely. He wants to trot or run or anything really besides walk. There is always something more interesting just beyond the end of the leash.

How does he compensate for this restriction in mobility? He turns circles. He trots for five feet, sniffing and snorting, then turns a circle. To the right. Always to the right. Apollo can’t turn left…except for this one time, but I’ll get to that in a minute.

Rocky is an Akita with a splash of German Shepherd Dog thrown in for more dignity and a greater ability for condescension. He holds his head up regally, toenails elegantly clicking on the pavement in a perfect cadence, while his tedious companion slobbers and runs in circles, bounding from one dandelion patch to another…circling to the right, pacing, circling to the right, pacing…on and on and on.

But there was a day. One walk out of thousands, when my middle child and I were out walking the dogs…and I saw an Eastern Bluebird. Being from Nebraska, I don’t have much experience with the beautiful birds that flutter around our neighborhood here in Virginia…all different colors and songs….I’m not used to it. “Son, did you see that?” I asked, pointing. My son stood beside me, laughing. When he stopped, a grin plastered to his face, he said, “I know, Apollo just turned left.” Zoolander, eat your heart out!!

My dog turned left…and I missed it. I’ve watched diligently on every walk since then, waiting for him to repeat the act. But Apollo seems more comfortable turning right. It’s unnatural for him to do anything else.

So I find myself once again taking a lesson from this monster of a canine. Do I want to be the sort of writer that “can’t turn left?” Or do I want to do more? Be more? I’m in the second book of my Detective Baker series…and I’m happy with the way things are shaping up. But other stories…set in other times in other places…are tickling the back of my mind. And I find myself wanting to test the mysterious waters where these other ideas swim. I nursed the characters for The Deputy’s Widow for years, coddling them to maturity and, eventually, publication. Suddenly, that obsession isn’t there because I accomplished my goal. I’m published. And I’ll be published again with the sequel, provided my editor likes it. Trying something new doesn’t feel comfortable just yet. But, unlike my dog, I have higher brain function (sometimes) and I think I might give “turning left” a try. So I’ll keep watching Apollo, hoping he’ll overcome his multi-directional challengedness…and I’ll consider shooting off in a new direction myself on occasion.

Mittens and Potatoes

Tater Mitts.

Insomnia is a fickle thing. At times I’ll go for months unmolested by thoughts refusing to stay below the surface as I sleep. At other times, the beast rears its ugly head and I spend the night awake, tossing and turning and worrying about things over which I have no control. As I age, alongside my husband of 16 years, I can’t help but notice he’s afflicted with this condition on occasion as well. And even more interesting than this, is the fact that, once in awhile, we are afflicted at the same time.

I’m not sure which is worse…lying awake in the middle of the night as the clocks tick in an endless cadence, marking time that passes too slowly…or awakening an hour or two before dawn, wondering if going back to sleep is even worth the trouble.

Gone are the days when four in the morning felt like the middle of the night. Now I think about walking the dog or writing a chapter or blogging or answering e-mail. I think of all the productive things I could be doing with my time besides sleeping.

Last week, as my husband and I suffered a case of co-dependent early morning insomnia, we stumbled downstairs and cranked up the satellite as the coffee pot percolated and the dogs found comfy places on the sofa—clearly, insomnia is never a problem for a dog—to go back to sleep.

Infomercials dominate the airwaves before dawn, taking advantage of bleary-eyed insomniacs with promises that “This product will make your life easier…or your money back.”

Well, I love my Swiffer, but I can’t exactly say its made my life easier.

But that was before I heard about Tater Mitts. Have you heard of the Tater Mitts? Have you reserved your pair yet? Tater Mitts are a handy pair of gloves with steel wool on the outside. Just put on the gloves, pick up a potato, squish it around in your hands and…PRESTO!! The potato is free of that filthy peel.

I’m so stupid. All these years I’ve been using a potato peeler which could have flown out of my hands at any given moment and lodged in my neighbor’s eye. It’s true. I’ve been endangering the whole world with my reckless method of peeling potatoes.

Wouldn’t it be nice for writers if the reading public was as gullible as the infomercial quacks believe the entire world to be? I could say “Read my book-it will change your life.” Or I could pay people to say “You won’t believe the amazing things this book can do for you.” Or how about, “I never knew my life was so empty until I read “The Deputy’s Widow””

Nah, come to think of it, I wouldn’t respect an ignorant reading audience. I prefer readers who say, “I would have done this differently.” Or “This part was good, but try this.”

Writers live in a world where their product has to stand alone. The purpose of fiction can be one of two things: to prove a point, or to entertain. I prefer to read fiction for entertainment and I try to write fiction that accomplishes the same. I can’t promise a reader a good book and then not deliver. Why? Because readers are smart. And they read to be entertained. And they write reviews.

The morning of the Tater Mitts infomercial was rare. Normally, I pick up a book when I can’t sleep. I pick up a book and let myself sink into its world…because a writer is someone who delivers. There are no money-back guarantees. There are no paid celebrities with overly tight faces telling me this book will change my life. There’s just a writer’s work…and I know a little something about that…the sweat, the agony, the pressure.

You can keep your Tater Mitts. I’ll use a potato peeler and read a good book, thank you very much.

A Return on My Investment

April 29, 2008

The power went out over and over again shortly after we moved here. It’s a problem, I’m told, with being close to the forest in an area where it storms. The soil is rich, but loose. And when the spring rains come, trees fall.

It is unlike Nebraska, my home, where the branches are snapped from the trunks and tossed about. Here, in Virginia, the branches hold but the tree falls…onto power lines. No power means no water…as our supply comes from an electrical pump. So last year, when the spring rains came, we bought a generator and waited for it to rain.

I believe last summer’s drought was the worst in quite awhile. Our garden died. Atlanta’s water supply threatened to dry up. And that damned generator sat…a $700 dollar investment taking up space once used for children’s bicycles.

It stormed here last night. The soil, unable to keep its grip on the enormous roots of tall trees, let go. And trees fell…on top of cars, houses, fences…and power lines.

Our generator worked on the first try. After a year of sitting in wait, it started…finally of some use. It’s back in the shed today, resting up for the next storm, no doubt.

But I can’t help thinking about that generator today as I sit down to write. I have notebooks filled with drafts I’ve tossed aside, taking up space on shelves I could use for other things. And yet, like that stupid generator, they are an investment; of time and of creativity. So I’ll let them stay where they are to remain exactly what they are…a cache of ideas and inspiration for days when my power goes out.

Run, Marla, Run

There are times when research overtakes the time I normally use to write. And sometimes, if I am completely honest, the research doesn’t necessarily pertain to my current project. Things come up…things I just have to know.

For example, this morning, as I was jogging in place, my husband mentioned Marla Maples and her exercise video. And he was looking at my chest at the time. Hmmm.

Unlike most men who were between the ages of 18 and 35 in the year 1991, I had no idea Marla Maples made an exercise video. “How,” I inquired of my husband, “in the hell did you know that?” He grinned and said, “Everyone knows that.”

Hmmm. I thought to myself, “It’s time for some research. I know exactly what I’m going to do after everyone leaves for school and work today.”

As soon as the house was quiet, I Googled Marla Maples exercise video and was shocked at the amount of hits. Joe Bob Briggs’s 1992 review of her video cassette workout was at the top of the list. Go figure.

I wonder if Joe Bob continues to review videos on a regular basis or if he just did this when he was in the 18-35 year old demographic. Oh dear, there’s another thing to research today.

Joe Bob spends a lot of time talking about how Marla works out to elevator music while she confesses that “yes, she does worry about her figure.” Great. Thanks, Joe Bob. And thank-you Marla.

You Tube came through on the hit list as well, proving beyond all doubt that Marla still appeals to that 18-35 y/o male demographic. If you want, you can catch a 32 second video panning her butt, which is snugly wrapped in orange bike shorts, while she does leg lifts. Exactly how many women ever watched this? Now, there’s a number worth researching.

It’s twenty minutes past nine on this Friday morning, as I complete this post. Research on Marla Maples has provided me with just over a half page worth of material. But I can’t say the time I spent researching her was time poorly spent. My questions have been answered. Yes, Marla Maples made an exercise video. And yes, her voice in the video was as annoying as I remembered it to be. Yes, it is obvious my husband watched the video when he was a young twenty-something lad. And yes, yes, yes, I’ve wasted an hour of my life on Marla Maples…an hour I can never retrieve.

It’s a tough lesson to learn. But for a writer with an inquisitive mind, isn’t that the way it always is? You tap a vein of ore hoping to strike gold…once in awhile you do. Marla Maples gave me orange bike shorts today, not gold. And yet I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.

The Naked City...Film Review

The Naked City

Since I’m not a native New Yorker, I felt a little precocious about seeing the city “Naked.” But, as I also happen to be as voyeuristic as the next guy, I decided, “what the hell?” and I watched. Let me tell you…the sheer number of people milling around, getting on and off the subway, living their lives, eating their lunch…well, it’s staggering to a small town girl like me. I found myself wanting to shove my children out of the way, saying, “Move it, pal,” as I made my way to the fridge for a soda during viewing.

The Naked City was filmed on location in 1948, during the peak of the film noir era. At the time, “on location” movies were unusual (so I’ve been told) and this was fresh and new for America. For the first time, movie goers were allowed to see the city as it lived, making New York the biggest star of the film.

Other unusual features of this movie: there are no opening credits and not much of a musical score. But we aren’t allowed to feel disappointed. After all, a narrator jumps in immediately, warning us that this film is “unlike anything we’ve ever seen before.” And, in case we forget, he jumps in throughout the film from time to time, underscoring the amount of work it is for a department to catch a killer.

The movie was directed by Jules Dassin and produced by Mark Hellinger. Barry Fitzgerald plays the sharp Irish cop, comes with his own brogue and everything, assisted by Don Taylor as Jimmy Halloran…the leg man. Together they work to track down the killer of a blonde named Jean Dexter, found dead in her bathtub. Strangled. Chloroformed. With a big, black starred sapphire in her possession and a pair of men’s pajamas in the bedroom.

First of all, NOT film-noir. If I had to classify this movie…and I do…I’d say it’s an original docu-drama. We are taken along with the cops, none of whom have any skeletons in their closets, as they try to solve the case. They bring in suspects, one by one, throw the book at ‘em, and let ‘em go. But the list of potential murderers narrows and eventually, a crime ring is uncovered. There’s none of the self-destructive downward spiral for the main characters in this film…all of that takes place with the crooks here, so we don’t feel the angst and the devastation as the film reaches its climax.

But it’s got a halfway decent foot chase and it’s worth watching, if you get a chance. I wouldn’t run out and buy it…check your local listings.

Interview with Author David Boyle

My friend, David Boyle, is the author of Blood Works, released by Arctic Wolf Publishing this winter. Blood Works is available at all major online bookstores.

Your book, Blood Works, is a collection of short fiction. Tell us about it.
First of all, I'd like to thank you for taking precious time out of your hectic writing schedule to discuss my book. I look forward to reading "The Deputy's Widow" this year!
To answer your first question,the anthology is filled with tales of ordinary people stepping into horrific situations. The stories in "Blood Works" are little episodes we often encounter simply by getting out of bed in the morning and going about daily life. The tales explore the small things that we rarely think twice about. Then, when horror is injected into them, it radically changes the outcome. And I can only hope that the readers will take the book for a ride and say "I've been in that place before!" Or on the other hand, "I hope that never happens to me!"

How long did it take you write Blood Works...years? Months?
It would be hard to calculate the exact amount of time it took, but I will try and offer a gauge. A couple of years ago I started writing the tales for "Blood Works" at nights and on weekends. I found myself stealing time to create. I would write during my breaks at work and usually stay up past my bed time to unload the ideas into the typewriter. It would be safe to say that somewhere from six months to a year had elapsed when I found the majority of the anthology was complete. But being it was written at odd times makes it difficult to be more accurate.

Do you have a favorite story in the book?
I don't, Jennifer. They are all close to my heart as is everything I pen. But occasionally a reader will have one that hits close to home for them and for that moment when they are telling me all about it, I am reliving the tale and it's a cool feeling for me. And of course during our conversation I'm charged up about that specific story. I just can't take sides with any of the selections at this point. Perhaps down the road if I'm able to enjoy longevity in this business I will have a clearer angle at choosing a favorite. Because I think that when you end up doing something artistically for a long stretch of time, you realize that some segments of your catalogue hold up better than others.

Who do you read to inspire you?
I draw inspiration from life in general; movies, books, people, relationships, etc. I don't limit myself as to where I take from. I'll use any means possible to feed my craft. Anything can be put to good use when you stop and think about it. I really can't think of a book I've read over the years that didn't touch a chord with me, and that's the truth. Even if the story is not what I expected I always find myself saying "WOW" frequently during the read.


Who do you read for enjoyment?
I will read anyone. There is an extensive list of books I plan on buying this year, including yours, Jennifer. There are many talented writers that I have had the pleasure of finding on Myspace this year, and once I get things in order I am doing lots of book shopping to support their work.

You mentioned that you write during breaks at work or during the evenings at home. Is there any specific place that brings you more inspiration than another?
I have written in many different places, and fortunately it has never been too difficult to focus. I find that ideas strike me at the strangest times too; when I least expect it. For example, I remember when I was working on some of the stories for "Blood Works" and during this one day in particular I was enjoying a beautiful summer day with my wife. We were eating ice cream cones sitting on the tailgate of my truck talking about life in general, sharing a few laughs and such. It was in the middle of our conversation that a wave of inspiration washed over me. At that second, I discovered the concept for one of the tales in my book called "Blink of an Eye." I never suspected that something so dark would hit me on such a glorious day. When we returned home later that afternoon, I hit the keyboard and started writing. During my session at the typewriter there were kids playing in the streets, screaming, playing basketball, riding bikes, etc. But the story was eating away inside and it was time to get it out. And I don't always find it easier to write horror at night as opposed to the day. When the moment is knocking at my door and it feels natural, I'm ready to create and allow the story to take on a life of its own.

Do you read books on "how to write?"
I don't, Jennifer. I know I want to write and that I love to tell my stories. I believe every author has their own approach to the craft. But I do have much to learn and as I write each day I try to become a better storyteller. To be honest with you, I believe my journey as an author will be one of continuous learning and that I will never know it all. I always try something different every once in a while. For me, there's not just one way of doing things. The craft of storytelling, like other arts, is all about experimentation. To me it is, at least. Countless times I've been thousands of words into writing a tale only to delete most of it because it wasn't working correctly. My approach is hands on and being honest with myself and my work, first and foremost. A "how to" book is a resource I have not used up to this point. I believe trial and error will light my way.

Who would you like most to be compared to as a writer? Why?
I never think about being compared to anyone. Sure, if someone did compare me to a popular and talented author it's a flattering statement to make, but I just want to develop my own voice and hopefully readers will respond to it. That's all I could ever ask for. I'm never one to say "I want to be the next..." I'm not interested in proclamations of that kind. I only want to write and create to my potential and enjoy the ride.

What are you working on now?
I just keep writing, Jennifer. I try and find the time each day to put something down on paper and have fun. That's my philosophy on things. When life gets in the way and I'm unable to get thoughts down on paper, I don't get frustrated or alarmed. I take it one day at a time. This past week I was able to work on four stories at the same time. I really enjoyed doing that and all of the tales were fresh in my head and the sessions at the keyboard were productive. I'm just happy to be part of this art.

Will you ever write a full-length novel? What about?
If a story leads me down that path one day I will. But I'm not an author that focuses on length at all. Many people ask me this question and it's a good one. It would not be difficult for me to expand my short stories into longer works. But at this point there is something fascinating to me about short fiction. I enjoy packing as much punch as possible into a rapid-fire story. It's a fun and creative challenge for me when I want to get a story out and I try to keep the core of the tale confined and get to the flesh of it faster. Plus, for the readers that don't have a lot of time to invest in a longer story, a sudden jolt of fear during the day or before bed gets the job done.

Tell us about your upcoming short film. When and where will folks be able to see it? What's it about? How did the idea to turn it into a picture come about?
It all started with a message I received from the talented Dave Jackson from "Jack Action Films." He had read some of my work and enjoyed it. He discussed the opportunity there was to work with him on one of my shorts. Mr. Jackson read the story "Blindsided" I wrote and informed me that he wanted to script it for screen. I really admire his approach to writing and to his preparation of fiction to film. He was very respectful of my story and most of all he amazed me with his creativity and passion for the project. I have learned a lot from him about the contrast between writing a story for a book, and for film. The approach is worlds apart. Without giving too much away, I will say "Blindsided" is about trying to prove that this character, a psychic, is a fraud. It is being shot this spring in Canada and as production rolls along I will eventually learn more about where interested fans can see it.

Any future plans for additional films based off your work?
I have discussed opportunities with other filmmakers and it's been a real treat. If it happens, that's great. You never know what's in store for you. I have always wanted to work/write in the horror cinema world and perhaps with a great deal of luck it could happen. For now I am excited to see what Mr. Jackson does with "Blindsided." From working with him so far and seeing his talent and enthusiasm for the tale I can only see great things coming to life.

Do you come by your writing ability naturally? Any other writers in the family?
I do not come by writing naturally at all. I'm not even sure what kind of ability I possess. I will leave that answer to the readers. I keep working at it, and with some luck perhaps I'll learn much more about being the best storyteller I can be. My brother is a screenwriter. He lives in North Carolina and he has penned many tales of his own.

How important is a good support system to you as a writer?
Very important! When a writer sits down to spill his guts he/she needs encouragement from all around them. It helps you find balance. Often times I have found that good supporters usually have great ideas on how you can propel your craft further. I think solid support is necessary no matter what you do. There are people out there that risk their lives everyday and are brave beyond any character I could ever imagine in a story, and much more than I'll ever be. Those are the ones that need the most support.

What advice do you have for new/aspiring writers?
I don't have much to offer on this one, Jennifer. I am in no position to steer anybody toward a certain road. There is no map to guide the way. I am here as a result of luck and good fortune. I just hope others who try their hand at the pen find what they are looking for.

Writing Under Fire

Writing on the Battlefield

March 7, 2008

I have three children. The oldest, at age 15, is filled with teen-aged angst and introspection and spends much of his time in his room, where he can brood over life’s meaning.

The other two, age eleven (a boy on the brink of peachfuzz) and eight (a blonde-haired blue-eyed beauty of a daughter, God help us) have procured a book on the making of paper airplanes.

They kneel at the coffee table with their brows furrowed, their lips pursed in concentration, the stapler clacking away as they secure the wings and the nose. When it’s all assembled, it is time, naturally, for a test flight. A sleeve is rolled up, an arm is pulled back, and the missile is launched.

Our dogs run for cover. (We have three. Big. Dogs.)

And despite what you’ve heard about Akitas and Dobermans, they are really just big babies.

Big. Big. Babies.

And they can knock my husband (imagine Jason Statham with muscles) right over if he is caught unawares.

My husband works at night sometimes, sitting in his mission-style chair, computer propped on his lap, saving the world one database at a time. I sit, more properly, at a tiny desk where I can look out the front window at the pear trees…which are starting to blossom. From this poetic spot in my living room, I can daydream about the lavish life of a writer, the next plot point in my current novel. Should there be a love scene or not? Should I re-work chapter 4?

All this while paper missiles fly overhead, landing on my keypad. If the Department of Defense only knew what battles are waged in the living room of this DBA and his family, they might rethink the entire Iraq situation.

My world is gangsters, dames, roscoes, thumb-breaking, and infidelity…all happening in concert with a bottle of bourbon and a pack of unfiltereds.

My children and my husband live lives that are more high-tech. In their worlds, computers talk to each other over thousands of miles, information is sent to secret places even a wife can’t know about…and paper airplanes, secured with scotch tape and staples, fly below the radar and get tangled in my hair while dogs duck and cover and wait for the war to stop.

Such is the glamorous life of this writer.

Feelin' The Love

Loving Your Characters While Raising The Stakes

To make a reader care about your work…your book, your short story, your characters, you have to “raise the stakes”…at least that’s what the experts tell us. This is a tough row to hoe at times. Of course I want my fiction to be compelling…I want Baker to be memorable and honorable and interesting. But I can’t make him that way if I allow him to live in a vacuum. Whether I like it or not, I have to toss problems in his direction and let him solve them.

I confess, this hurts me sometimes. He finds himself in peril…standing on the edge of a cliff, looking into the barrel of a gun with nowhere to go. He looks at me with his eyebrow cocked. “Why?” he wants to know. “Why do you do this to me over and over and over?”

I could say something trite like “Because I love you.” Ugh. Too cliché. I could say, “This hurts me more than it hurts you,” but that would be a lie and we all know it. I guess if I wanted to give Baker a good answer as I write him to the edge of the cliff and over the side I’d say, “I want you to grow. I want to make you better.”

But still I sense his bewilderment and the sense of betrayal he feels as I toss him over the edge with nothing beneath but jagged rocks crawling with starving crocodiles; nothing above but a pack of rabid wolves, three carnivorous bears, a wolverine, and a skunk; and a python slinking its way along the scraggly branch from which Baker hangs.

“Come on, man, this is no fair,” he says.

Ok, I say it. “I do this because I love you.” And in a weird way, I mean it. Today, I don’t think he believes me.

Big Dog...Big Crash

Falling Out of Bed

When the house shakes at 3:00 in the morning my first thought, since I don’t live anywhere near a fault line, is “thunderstorm” or, since I live in redneck central, “the neighbors are shooting skeet in their backyard again.” I don’t believe I’ve ever thought to myself “Oh, dear. The dog has fallen out of bed.” And yet….

Sigh. And yet…it happened. The King of Our Beasts, the one hundred pounder, appropriately named Apollo, tumbled from our king sized bed, onto the floor. The house shook violently for a moment. When the aftershocks subsided, my husband sat up and said, “Did you hear something?”

Apollo was ok, too tired to do much of anything except moan a little at the disturbance before rolling over exactly where he landed and falling asleep.

“The dog fell,” I said. “And now he’s gone to sleep again.” I was leaning over the bed and looking at the great mound of black muscle spread eagled, feet up in the air, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth…snoring.

My husband smiled a little and lay down. “That is so him.”

And it is. It is so Apollo to fall out of bed in the middle of the night. But it is even more him to shrug off the interruption in his routine and make the best of the situation. If he can’t sleep in the bed, he’ll sleep on the floor…happily.

So what about me, the writer? If I can’t be a best seller, am I content for mid-list? If I can’t be mid-list, am I content with the simple honor of being published? If Arctic Wolf hadn’t signed me, would I have had the courage to self-publish?

Occasionally, I get frustrated. I feel like a failure. I want success; but in this new, unexplored territory, I don’t know how to measure it.

Today I find myself wondering how my dog measures it…I think success to him is having someplace where he can stretch out. And he stretches out no matter where he is. He is happy no matter what…even if he has fallen out of bed. The old saying, “Bloom where you are planted,” is his bumper sticker.

And so I sigh again today. It is humbling to take a lesson from a dog…especially one with no grace…and a tongue the size of Delaware. But as I look into those big, vacant, brown eyes, I can’t help but think that this creature is a good influence on me. But don’t tell anyone I said so.

The Latest Author Interview: Frank E. Bittinger

Recently, I had the pleasure of interviewing Frank E. Bittinger, author of Into the Mirror Black, about his life as a writer. Below is the synopsis of this interview. For more information about Frank Bittinger, visit him online at www.frankebittinger.com or www.myspace.com/sacredscarab. His books are available online at Amazon or Barnes and Noble.

1. Tell us about your book, Into The Mirror Black. Where did you get the idea for this? Is it something you let "stew" in your mind for awhile, or did you just wake up one morning and start writing?
   Are there any experiences in your past that influence your writing? If so, what?
   The genesis of my Hexology, my Scarabae Saga, was back in my childhood when I lived in a small town named Grantsville in Western Maryland. Across the road from the shopping plaza that housed our town's grocery store, pharmacy, etc, was a valley and some mountains. I always thought about the facade of the mountain crashing down in a storm of shale to reveal a temple carved into the living mountain itself.
   I always told myself I would someday write a tale about the mountain and the temple inside. I always knew the story arc would comprise more than one volume because I wanted to share the stories of how different people were infected or influenced in different ways by the presence of whatever it is inside the temple in the mountain.
   Because I loved to read, I told myself I would write books. When I actually did sit down to begin writing, I began with short stories that evolved into a collection centered around a theme--the Scarabae. From there I moved onto the full-length novels: Into the Mirror Black, Angels of the Seventh Dawn, and the forthcoming Angels of the Mourning Light.
   Of course, having seen a ghost or two throughout my life, I am open to whatever you want to call it--paranormal, preternatural, supernatural--and I draw on those experiences as well as those the readers share with me.
   
   Does your writing ever frighten you? Does anything you work on end up seeming overly "real" to you?
   So far I haven't scared myself with my writing. There have been times when I have sat back and said to myself, "That is really good." But I have never frightened myself.
   I have, on the other hand, frightened the readers. I get emails and letters from readers telling me how they got a fright or a chill out of a certain passage or scene. Others will tell me about something that happened--like the lights going out when they were reading or their cat sneezing just as the cat in the first book sneezes--and they caught a fright so they had to put the book down.
   And I do get the letters and emails from readers who have to tell me how they needed to have a night light before they could close their eyes for the night after reading some of my books.
   It seems I have a way of getting under peoples' skin.

Your imagination runs deep. Obviously. What sort of books did you read in your younger days? What sort of books do you read now? Did any of these authors influence you?
I read pretty much the same types of books now that I read when I was younger. I have over 6,000 books in my personal library, so I do enjoy reading. I read Jonathan Kellerman, Patricia Cornwell, Kathy Reichs, Carole Nelson Douglas, Laurell K. Hamilton, Anne Rice, Clive Barker, Dean Koontz, and tons of others. I love scary stuff more than anything.
My favorite types of books are those in a series; I like to get to know the characters and read about their exploits.
Did any of these writers influence me? Yes, I would have to say I have been influenced by pretty much every author I have read--whether I wanted to write like s/he or not write like s/he. Some have influenced my own writing more than others, but all of them have helped shape my style.

Tell us about what you are working on now. Do you ever think about moving to another genre other than horror?
Currently I am working on book three in my Hexology: Angels of the Mourning Light. Although my books can actually be read as stand-alones, there is a story arc running through them that will lead you to a larger story. I like to call my Scarabae Saga my kind-of-a-series: the main character, if you will, isn't a person but a place--Western Maryland. Something is here and it influences any- and everything in the area.
I really can't see myself moving into a genre other than my current gothic genre, unless it would be comedy. I know that sounds rather bizarre, but I have been told there is a bit of wicked humor running through my books.

How long did it take you to write your books?
I write very slow, because I completely lack discipline of any kind. Sometimes I will go for days and weeks even without writing. I constantly think about my stories, but I can go without writing for a while. And that is the dirty secret about why it takes me a year to write a book. Well, I do work two jobs so that is somewhat of an explanation, too.

Tell us how you write. Is there a particular place you find you are more inspired? Is there a particular time of day you prefer?
I write slowly, that's how I write.
Seriously, I write when the muse hits or when an idea pops in my head. I cannot force myself to sit and write when I don't feel like it. To do that would completely destroy my love and fascination for the craft. I know other authors can turn out a book a month, but I can't do that.
I like to think about what the story has to offer, what kind of people will be involved, how it will play off previous books, and what effects it will have on future books in the Hexology.
I cannot seem to write any place other than my "office." I used to have an entire room in my house for an office, decorated stylishly, full of books, a couple windows...and it didn't do a damned thing for me. I didn't write a word. When I opened the closet door in my bedroom and took out all the clothes and suits and ties and shoes--and turned my former office into a big closet--I put my desk inside the little closet and that became my office. It worked wonders. No distractions; just me and maybe some music and my thoughts.
And I do have to say I can only write at night. I have been quoted as saying I can't write about death and destruction in shiny happy daylight.
My second book Angels of the Seventh Dawn has been described as sleek, seductive, and sinful so I must be doing something right. And I have been told I am a cross between Clive Barker and Anne Rice, so that made everything worthwhile because they are two legends of the craft.

I know you have done book signings. And you are gracious enough to answer these questions via e-mail. Have you done any face to face interviews? Any radio interviews? Any plans to do so?
I answer all emails eventually; it's difficult to get to them right away what with working two jobs, writing, trying to get my own business off the ground, as well as working to raise money for animal charity.
I have done two interviews: one was printed in a newspaper and one was supposed to be printed in a magazine but I never heard back from the editor of the magazine.
For all my accomplishments--selling internationally and making it onto Amazon. com's Top 100 on different occasions to name a few--I cannot get local media attention no matter what I do. I rely on the best advertising: word of mouth from loyal readers who love my books.

What do you like best about your fans? Do they ever say or do anything that gives you ideas for future writing?
I talk for hours at book signings with my readers. They tell me all kinds of stories about their experiences with the paranormal, supernatural, preternatural, whatever you want to label it. I can't get enough; it's a great.
It's because of my loyal readers the world is taking notice of my work; my readers are solely responsible for my publicity and promotion. I cannot thank them enough.

What comes after your Scarabae Saga? Any plans for a new series?
What comes after the Hexology? I don't know if there will be anything after my Scarabae Saga.
I have notes and ideas for several dozen independent noels--by which I mean not related or part of a series.


Be sure to check Frank's sites often for information on his up and coming works.

Rolling in Dead Things

Rolling in Dead Things

My dog got off his lead this morning. When he finally decided to stop running around and return home, he was wearing a lei comprised of grass, something resembling a dead rodent, and feces from an unknown species. Fortunately, it was all coagulated in his choke collar, so I removed that and tied him to a tree to hose him off.

What is it, I wondered, gagging on the smell, that entices dogs to roll in dead things? Growing up, I had a dog that tried to roll in the rancid grass clippings swarming with flies in the back alleyway. Another dog’s poop…she loved it. Dead possum? Oh boy!! She was a small dog and easy to manage on-lead, so we avoided much of the fur sticking goo she was desperate to coat herself in.

Nowadays, I have three dogs. And they’re quite large. Upon encountering a dead squirrel or flattened snake on the road, any of the three will drop a front leg and put rub a shoulder in it, trying to coat themselves with the stench.

No wonder cat lovers ridicule those of us with dogs. No wonder some people choose to keep their animals outdoors. I can’t do that. My dogs…all three of them…are my constant companions. I couldn’t make it through a day without them.

So before I pass judgment on my smelly friends, I guess I’ll take a look at myself. Some might look at me and wonder why I choose the write the things I write. Why would I opt to write about murder, about crime, about adultery? These aren’t things one would choose to discuss in polite society. These aren’t things we normally encounter except on daytime TV, primetime crime dramas, or on the news. Yet I delve into these topics with relish, thinking up new ways to torture, kill, poison, or maim someone. It’s my own method of “rolling in dead things,” if you will….except no one ties me to a tree and hoses me off when I’m done.

My dog is fresh and clean now. He’s inside, resting on his cushion and hating me for taking away his smelly necklace. And me…I’m fixing to roll in my own dead things today.

Relationships...and Writing

My oldest child is 15, at the stage of life where much of his time is spent in his room brooding over the meaning of his existence-wondering how these strange people he calls his parents could have produced one such as him: normal.
It is with awe that I watch him change from boy to man, from child to adult-the change in interests, the difference in how he solves problems, relates to his siblings. I am proud.
This summer, he will be left over a thousand miles from us. We will drop him off and trust that the teachings and lectures and discipline we've offered over these 15 years have served their purpose. He will be with friends in the city.
As I think about that trip-the importance of it, the reality of it, the necessity of it for a boy on the threshold of manhood; I don't think about the trouble he could get into. I don't worry that he will make bad decisions. I don't worry that he will be homesick. I know too well his level of responsibility, the dry wit that sees him through every situation with his own warped form of optimism.
Rather, I worry about how he will experience these friends he left behind two years ago. I think of the things they did at ages 12 and 13 and recognize that the gap from there to here is a big one. Friendships evolve as children evolve. As adult features push out from childlike faces, so too do the mannerisms and points of view of the adult emerge from the personality of the child.
And I suppose this is what I worry about as my son prepares to spend weeks away from me this summer. We talk a lot, he and I...about everything. And as he has grown, I have grown. And so, our relationship has evolved. But what about these friends he has not seen for years. Will they relate to one another in the same way? Of course not. Without being present in their lives, he has missed out on the evolution that has no doubt taken place within the workings of the group. And although I know this will not be a disappointment to him, I know he will, on some level, feel the strain of it and wonder if all childhood friendships end after one moves away. Perhaps he will mourn a little. Perhaps they will find new ground on which to build a friendship. Only time will tell.
As I think about my oldest child today, I think about the lessons he can teach me about my work; my writing. As much as I hate sitting with my hands on the keyboard some days, I know it must be done. Without the discipline, evolution in my work cannot occur. What I write today will never improve unless I work at it again tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that.
And so, I'd better stop all this musing and get back to work...or I'll stay a monkey forever.

Baseball in the Rain

Baseball

A game was played last night in the mist and rain. Spectators sat huddled under umbrellas and blankets, trying to keep dry. The players were all aged 11 or 12 and growing frustrated with the wetness of the ball, how hard it was to throw and catch. Those of us with children on the team watched from the stands, hoping they would pull it together to get through the last inning.

The pitcher was having none of it. He grew more and more frustrated as the ball slipped from his hand during his pitches. He’d throw his arms in the air, sink to his knees, moan out loud. And all the while, the parents in the stands shouted their reassurances. “It’ll be alright. You can do it. Hang in there.”

His mother wrung her hands, wondering if she should be embarrassed about his behavior. Be embarrassed why? I wondered. Because he is behaving like he is 12? So the parents, dripping and wet and miserable, reassured her too.

At last, the pitcher dropped to his knees with an “ankle injury.” And, truth be told, it was the most mysterious ankle injury I’d ever seen. It happened while he was merely standing there, very still, on the mound.

We were disappointed, but what could we do? He’s only 12. He was frustrated and cold and wet. And I’m sure he could smell the hot dogs and the popcorn that all of us were eating. That had to add to the frustration. One can’t exactly eat a hot dog out on the pitcher’s mound.

So the coaches put the player in right field, where he made an immediate and miraculous recovery. And they called my son to the mound. My son doesn’t pitch. My son, I thought at the time, can’t pitch.

But there was no worry on his face, just a wide-eyed expression and an eager grin, despite the cold rain and the late hour. He warmed up for five or six pitches, the ball sailing over the catcher’s head at one point, veering widely outside at another. But his face was all smiles. From all the way up in the stands, I could see his teeth as he grinned, oblivious to the water dripping into his eyes, the wetness of the ball, the misery of his teammates.

He walked his first batter. But everyone cheered for him anyway. I think I cheered the loudest…because he was so obviously thrilled to be throwing that ball. There were two outs…achieved by the pitcher before his “injury.” A batter stepped up to the plate. My son wound up. And pitched.

Strike one! I squealed. I actually squealed.

By the third strike, I was better composed. I stood and yelled and cheered. Just like everyone else.

My son’s team totally lost that game. Their hearts weren’t in it. But I felt pride for my boy. And I felt envy and admiration too. He was able to smile when the rest of the team was faltering for their determination and the will to go on. He slapped the catcher on the back and said he was sorry that ball was so high. He’d try to do better. He knew he wasn’t a “born pitcher.” There were others on the team better qualified for the job. But the coach chose my son. Perhaps he knew that this was the boy to turn to when everyone else was in the gutter…this was the boy who would finish the game just for the sheer joy of playing.

I’m thinking of my son today as I try to find the will to write the next scene for my book. I’m trying to smile as I throw the pitches out…watching them veer wildly in all directions. I think of his face out on that mound and look for the joy in what I do. Who would have thought that inspiration could come from a baseball game on a rainy day?

Charles, Life without you is...boring

Charlton Heston, world class over-actor, is dead at age 84. The NRA will never be the same. The Planet of the Apes will have no one to throw feces at. Soylent Green will no longer be made of people. And the chariot races are history. As for the parting of The Red Sea? Forget it. Never again.

There’s a movie I remember; about a plane crash on a Kansas runway. Charlton Heston played the pilot. I never watched the movie. But I watched the “made for TV trailers” that ran on local stations during the commercials while I watched Fantasy Island or The Love Boat or something equally cool and fascinating. In the trailer, Heston looks at the camera and says in that tight-jawed, intense way of his, “Of all the places we could have landed, I thank God it was here.”

Yessirree. If I ever end up in a firey plane crash, I, too, hope it is in Kansas. Because nothing says “flammable” like acres and acres of dry wheat fields. And if you’re gonna die, burning up fast is probably preferable. That’s all I’m saying.

We watched The Ten Commandments every Easter when I was young…because there was no such thing as cable, it was all that was on, and my mom had a thing for Heston. I preferred Yule Brenner, so it all worked out. I can’t think of a single person in my family who hasn’t seen Planet of the Apes, Soylent Green, or Ben Hur. I think some distant relatives, like in Kentucky or somewhere, may own rifles too, but I’d have to check on that.

I was in a commercial for Wayne State College in Wayne, Nebraska, once. (I lived in Nebraska for years, that’s how I know so much about Kansas.) The producer was a woman who wore sunglasses even though it was cloudy, and we were filming inside. She was pulling my hair over my shoulder to give me a sort of Lauren Bacall look-because everyone knows that sells spots at colleges- and she said, “I did this for Charlton Heston once.”

Her eyes got sort of misty back there behind her sunglasses when she mentioned his name. Ever since then, I’ve felt really sort of bonded to Heston, because he and I shared that same producer with the big sunglasses and the coffee breath. And now it’s gone. The tie is severed and I don’t even know where that producer is. I don’t even remember her name.

I like to think of her standing at the end of a runway in Kansas hoping that a 747 carrying talking apes in possession of great stone tablets pulled by a chariot will careen recklessly down the runway, coming to rest in the fields of non-flammable wheat as Heston staggers out, carrying apes and tablets and soylent snacks to safety, so she can be there to touch his hair one more time.

Good-bye, Charton Heston. I can honestly say that the world will be much less dramatic without you.

Character...and a nasal belch

It started with Brick. Then came Black Dahlia, which was actually a "true" twist of an unsolved murder in Hollywood. Close on its heels was "Hollywoodland" with the pseudo-reality look at the death of Superman star, George Reeves. Of course, everyone remembers L.A. Confidential...that was a good one too.

But you gotta love that writers are getting in on the action now. I just finished Linda L. Richards book, Death Was The Other Woman...a nice read. Simple, but nice. Gas City is another new one by author Loren D. Estleman. Add to that the Hard Case Crime tales by various authors and it's easy to see that Noir is back...and even in demand in some respects.

So what is it about these titles that tickles our fancy? Is it the crime? Nah. We can read about crime in 8 out of every 10 fiction works sold. Sex? Nope. Not that either. If one out of every two fiction books sold is romance, clearly, the sex reader could just pick something up from the romance section of the book store. But increasing numbers of people are picking up books on Noir...with their pulp-like covers sporting scantily clad femme fatales and their catchy "Up Yours" titles. Maybe it's the marriage of sex and crime that draws us in...but if that was the case, why not just read about prostitution?

The truth? Noir is situations. Noir is character. Of course noir has plot, but plot comes AFTER the character dilemma. Flawed characters drive the plot. And that makes Noir. Maybe a happy ending. Most likely not. Crime? Of course. Murder? Hell yes. Sex? Maybe, but it isn't necessary. A good detective is getting some someplace. We don't need to read about it to know it.
Reading Noir is like belching through your nose after drinking straight Coca-Cola. It burns like hell but, in a strange way, it offers clarity...and it makes your eyes water.