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When I was a youngster, every Saturday we couldn't wait for our favorite serial movie, Flash Gordon (Buster Crabb) and his arch villain, Ming the Terrible. After 25 minutes, we'd be left with a cliff-hanger scene, and we'd have to wait for the next week to see how Flash and Dr. Zarkov got out of their impossible problem. Well, here' my current project I plan to show in bits and pieces, so you'll have to see what happens to the hero "next week." Be sure to buy Kellogg's Sugar Corn Pops and get strong 12 ways with every vitamin and mineral known to science. And enjoy the show.
The Cat and the Preacher
Richard A. Burns
After the thud of her sudden fall, uttering an understated, habitual, “Oh, my!” and the interminable struggle back up, her long scrawny fingers of her left hand curving over in a desperate dance, clawing the edge of the bedroom end-table, her right hand gripping the mattress hard through the bed covers because she was afraid the hand-knitted bedspread might give way, she managed to hoist herself up, first on to her bony knees. Pausing there, swaying like she was about to be blown over, white-haired Matilda Graham then pushed, grappled, and strained, surprised to finally be standing, surprised she could stand at all steadily. It was only her second fall that day, and she was glad it was over a thick carpet on a wood floor.
She yelled out to her companion: “Oh, Cinnamon, where are you?” Whenever the cat was with her, it always gave her a sense that everything was okay, as it was meant to be, rather heavenly, in fact. "Come here, kitten!" Her high quavering voice could still carry quite far, but no cat, no kitten, no anything.
Then, the “Yeow!” of her pet, loud as any fire truck siren, emminated from somewhere on the other side of her bed, a modest twin bed that looked out of place in the large expanse of her master bedroom. A louder “Yee-oww!” made Matilda step faster, but gingerly around her bed, feeling for the edge of it to make sure she stayed stable. Around the corner, perhaps from the master bath; that’s where its coming from, she thought.
“Oh, Lordy, Lordy, girl. Why don't you come to me when I need you?" She let go of her bed and turned the corner into the vanity. The kitten–she called the cat her kitten–sometimes would be curled up there in the sink, rubbing its whiskers on the clean, dry marble sink in a strange, cute, friendly way, but Matilda didn’t see Cinnamon anywhere in the vanity.
The cat squalled, clearly from the shower room now, and that kind of scared the elderly lady. Too unusual.
"Cinnamon, come here, right now, girl.” She tentatively let go of walls and walked with care through the vanity area and on into the shower room. She heard the wail of her Cinnamon another time and Matilda braced herself with the door frame. No cat on the toilet. Not in some corner on the floor of the smallish toilet-and-shower room, either.
(Have your mother buy Bosco chocolate syrup, boys and girls. Stir it into ice cold milk. Tastes great! And it's nutritious, too.)
Click link below to continue reading this furry story.
http://writerichly.blogspot.com/2010/02/preacher-and-cat-part-2.html
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Saturday, November 28, 2009
The Perfect Scene - A Link
I rediscovered an old link on my browser favorites list, it's by Randy Ingermanson, all about the function of a scene and the follow-up scene, which he calls the "sequel," the quasi-scene or narrative consolidating, cleaning up, and cogitating over what just happened in the "scene," and resting the reader a little in preparation for another high point, the next scene. It was an extremely useful article for me.
Judging from a lot of early drafts of good stories in critique groups that I've been involved with, understanding and applying this principle would be helpful for many B+ writers whose novels feel too monotone.
The story tension and stakes for the protagonist are akin to being on a roller coaster--this is my analogy, not Ingermanson's--where the scenes are the high points and the sequels are the necessary lower "valleys" to gather up steam again. But unlike a roller coaster, the general lay of the track tends, throughout the novel, to get higher and more precarious until the ridiculously high stakes and scariest conflict, the place on the track near the end of the ride that must be resolved via the climax. You (the reader following and rooting for the protagonist) have reached the awesome point where you see the whole city and you feel on the brink of plunging someplace you don't want to go or you feel like you're going to fall off, and then, the bottom falls out as you speed, out of control, downward.
Ingermanson says the scene ought to have a goal (for the protagonist), conflict, and disaster. The sequel should have reacton (to the disaster), a dilemma (makes the proagonist consider what to do next), and then a decision. Without the sequel, how is the character to grow? How will the protagonist ever reach her goal?
This decision (the decision to act, to actually physically do something) morphs into yor character requiring the goal for the next scene, a covenient way to make for action and an efficient, straight line story, instead of one, like some of mine, meandering from this place to that. Meandering is an unnecessary time-out from the story line, possibly fascinating stuff, but not the makings of a real page-turner, which is the bottom-line, elusive story characteristic publishers and readers are looking for these days.
Oh, I almost forgot, here's the link: http://www.advancedfictionwriting.com/art/scene.php
Judging from a lot of early drafts of good stories in critique groups that I've been involved with, understanding and applying this principle would be helpful for many B+ writers whose novels feel too monotone.
The story tension and stakes for the protagonist are akin to being on a roller coaster--this is my analogy, not Ingermanson's--where the scenes are the high points and the sequels are the necessary lower "valleys" to gather up steam again. But unlike a roller coaster, the general lay of the track tends, throughout the novel, to get higher and more precarious until the ridiculously high stakes and scariest conflict, the place on the track near the end of the ride that must be resolved via the climax. You (the reader following and rooting for the protagonist) have reached the awesome point where you see the whole city and you feel on the brink of plunging someplace you don't want to go or you feel like you're going to fall off, and then, the bottom falls out as you speed, out of control, downward.
Ingermanson says the scene ought to have a goal (for the protagonist), conflict, and disaster. The sequel should have reacton (to the disaster), a dilemma (makes the proagonist consider what to do next), and then a decision. Without the sequel, how is the character to grow? How will the protagonist ever reach her goal?
This decision (the decision to act, to actually physically do something) morphs into yor character requiring the goal for the next scene, a covenient way to make for action and an efficient, straight line story, instead of one, like some of mine, meandering from this place to that. Meandering is an unnecessary time-out from the story line, possibly fascinating stuff, but not the makings of a real page-turner, which is the bottom-line, elusive story characteristic publishers and readers are looking for these days.
Oh, I almost forgot, here's the link: http://www.advancedfictionwriting.com/art/scene.php
Friday, October 30, 2009
Does a Good Writing Day Wear You Out?
Today I spent a lot of time rewriting three chapters in my novel. I had sort of painted myself into a corner, so I had to unpaint a little trail out of that corner, got rid of some very good stuff, and added some very good other writing. Some of it was average writing, but what is average to some is a treasure to others. I think what I added wasn't as good as what I took away, but I had to do something to get the plot back on track. You can't have a dead guy come back to life, you know.
So my question to the world of writers out there is: Are they like me, that is, does one or two hour of serious writing or rewriting wears you down? It's kind of like I wrote a fight scene, but when I was done writing it, I felt very much like I'd been through the fight, in fact, I've been through it receiving each of the two fighters blows. I was kind of sweating and tired afterwards, just like I have been in a real fight. Of course, I won't need any bandages, no real blood flowed, no broken bones -- maybe some bony fingers from too much typing -- but golly Miss Molley & Craft Cheese Whiz, I do get pooped.
Probably, it's a good sign, like I really get into it.
Take yesterday, please! (This is my Henny Youngman imitation. Now there's a great first name to add to my name list.) Quoting the funny man: "The food on the plane was fit for a king. 'Here, King!' "
Back to my thread, only yesterday, for example, I ran wild. I pounded out three hours of writing, 1100 words, many of them not new, I just improved the order in which things happen, and, like I said, got rid of some plot point that couldn't have happened, unpainting myself out of that idiotic corner.
How do other writers do what they say they do, write for seven hours a day, five days a week, without completely wearing themselves out? These people must be geniouses beyond my ability to imagine.
There are so many pitfalls to watch out for and move carefully around. Alway, we need to bring in movement, new information; conflict; develop realistically the relationships between talker and listener during dialog, and show (not tell) how the content of the dialog and body language changes the relationship. A key character's motivation must rise from his personality traits and (unwritten) backstory, must stay consistent. Deciding when to explain something a little bit subtle that is necessary later on or deciding simply to let the reader figure it out is a tough choice for me. Coming up with character quirks, making sure the eyebrows are doing the right thing, frowning or rising, without the descriptive words sounding hoaky. I must try to write in a style that is bare and sapare as possible to save precious ink and the reader's time, and I must put enough variety into the chosen words and sentences that the reader stays interested, no, captiviated, enthralled the whole time, for nearly every single page in the novel. Now that's hard.
I make it sound totally hopeless, and that is no accident. I've put up with the dream this far, but it isn't a frivolous question. I'm perfectly serious. Do you need three days away from it after each days struggle with adding, pruning, and improving your novel?
Strangely, I'm on the last five chapters of my seventh go-over (rewrite paints misleading picture) and the story is exciting enough at this point--it's the climax--I'm thrilled that it's all about done, and the resolation, to me, is satisfactory. But will it be to agents and publishers? Maybe that weary thing is just for the middle chapters. Or , hey, just maybe I have dull middle chapters that need to to be axed.
I admit, my novel's a bit long, my writing is very detailed, cinematic I have been told, but the doggone thing is only a couple of weeks away from the query letter phase, and, as I say, I'm elated. --rb
So my question to the world of writers out there is: Are they like me, that is, does one or two hour of serious writing or rewriting wears you down? It's kind of like I wrote a fight scene, but when I was done writing it, I felt very much like I'd been through the fight, in fact, I've been through it receiving each of the two fighters blows. I was kind of sweating and tired afterwards, just like I have been in a real fight. Of course, I won't need any bandages, no real blood flowed, no broken bones -- maybe some bony fingers from too much typing -- but golly Miss Molley & Craft Cheese Whiz, I do get pooped.
Probably, it's a good sign, like I really get into it.
Take yesterday, please! (This is my Henny Youngman imitation. Now there's a great first name to add to my name list.) Quoting the funny man: "The food on the plane was fit for a king. 'Here, King!' "
Back to my thread, only yesterday, for example, I ran wild. I pounded out three hours of writing, 1100 words, many of them not new, I just improved the order in which things happen, and, like I said, got rid of some plot point that couldn't have happened, unpainting myself out of that idiotic corner.
How do other writers do what they say they do, write for seven hours a day, five days a week, without completely wearing themselves out? These people must be geniouses beyond my ability to imagine.
There are so many pitfalls to watch out for and move carefully around. Alway, we need to bring in movement, new information; conflict; develop realistically the relationships between talker and listener during dialog, and show (not tell) how the content of the dialog and body language changes the relationship. A key character's motivation must rise from his personality traits and (unwritten) backstory, must stay consistent. Deciding when to explain something a little bit subtle that is necessary later on or deciding simply to let the reader figure it out is a tough choice for me. Coming up with character quirks, making sure the eyebrows are doing the right thing, frowning or rising, without the descriptive words sounding hoaky. I must try to write in a style that is bare and sapare as possible to save precious ink and the reader's time, and I must put enough variety into the chosen words and sentences that the reader stays interested, no, captiviated, enthralled the whole time, for nearly every single page in the novel. Now that's hard.
I make it sound totally hopeless, and that is no accident. I've put up with the dream this far, but it isn't a frivolous question. I'm perfectly serious. Do you need three days away from it after each days struggle with adding, pruning, and improving your novel?
Strangely, I'm on the last five chapters of my seventh go-over (rewrite paints misleading picture) and the story is exciting enough at this point--it's the climax--I'm thrilled that it's all about done, and the resolation, to me, is satisfactory. But will it be to agents and publishers? Maybe that weary thing is just for the middle chapters. Or , hey, just maybe I have dull middle chapters that need to to be axed.
I admit, my novel's a bit long, my writing is very detailed, cinematic I have been told, but the doggone thing is only a couple of weeks away from the query letter phase, and, as I say, I'm elated. --rb
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Post Mortum of a Poetry Reading
Hey, I had a very fun time reading poetry at the Poetry Center San Jose, reading at the Arts Object Gallery. Thank you Linda Lappin, and to Ken, who had the refreshments and provided his gallery. I think the audience enjoyed it, too. They laughed at all the right places, seemed thoughtful, seemed sad at the right places, and when they threw rotten tomatoes at me, none of them landed.
I tood advantage of a chance during break to chat with a few other poets, small-talk, really–my word, I'm horrible at trying to remember names–I stumbled upon no new earth-shaking secrets. The other reader was a Santa Cruz poet, Dana Cervine, a good reader, but he was a little shy in his commentary, so I heard very little of that. It must have been pretty good because he smiled and laughed a lot. (Dana's day job involves working and managing in children’s mental health for Santa Cruz County.) As I was about to say, I should have the nerve to tell these well-meaning, talented folks to speak up. This fellow has had lots of experience and he seems to spend most of his life writing poems, even does it driving sometimes, if I’m to believe wild stories. If I did that, turn out say a poem a day, most of mine wouldn’t make sense, hance, pretty much be a bunch of drivel, absent of profundity. I come up with a couple of poem-worthy ideas most days--maybe that's a false impression--and I don't have time to put a pen to everything. How is it worth the effort if it isn’t clever or very good, stunning, hitting the listener between the eyes? I don't think anybody gets to be a millionaire writing poetry, no matter how good it is. You have to love the process, the readings, and the marketing of your work. I love my work; it gets rather polished and on-target, given the time for it to mature and bake up tall, brown, sweet, and tasty.
I tood advantage of a chance during break to chat with a few other poets, small-talk, really–my word, I'm horrible at trying to remember names–I stumbled upon no new earth-shaking secrets. The other reader was a Santa Cruz poet, Dana Cervine, a good reader, but he was a little shy in his commentary, so I heard very little of that. It must have been pretty good because he smiled and laughed a lot. (Dana's day job involves working and managing in children’s mental health for Santa Cruz County.) As I was about to say, I should have the nerve to tell these well-meaning, talented folks to speak up. This fellow has had lots of experience and he seems to spend most of his life writing poems, even does it driving sometimes, if I’m to believe wild stories. If I did that, turn out say a poem a day, most of mine wouldn’t make sense, hance, pretty much be a bunch of drivel, absent of profundity. I come up with a couple of poem-worthy ideas most days--maybe that's a false impression--and I don't have time to put a pen to everything. How is it worth the effort if it isn’t clever or very good, stunning, hitting the listener between the eyes? I don't think anybody gets to be a millionaire writing poetry, no matter how good it is. You have to love the process, the readings, and the marketing of your work. I love my work; it gets rather polished and on-target, given the time for it to mature and bake up tall, brown, sweet, and tasty.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
What are you doing Tuesday?
I will be reading my best works on the first Tuesday of October. Here's a reminder for anyone who wants to hear 20 minutes of entertaining, thoughtprovoking, easily understood poetry. Please do attend, smile, cry, throw vegetables, whatever, or just say "hi." For details, read on.
-- Richard Burns Reads His Poetry --
Tuesday, Oct. 6, 2009, 7:30PM
Art Object Gallery
592 North 5th Street
San Jose, CA 95112
http://www.artobjectgallery.com/index.html
(It’s near Jackson Street.)
I've been invited by Linda Lappin, Vice President of PCSJ, to open their Tuesday evening open mike. I will read Award Winners "Cold Temptation" and "TV Is Somethin' " and more. My works include two poems published in the South Bay Writers inaugural anthology, Who Are Our Friends? and Other Works by South Bay Writers, edited by Meredy Amyx, including "America, Don't Pass Me By."
There is an open mike scheduled, one poem from each reader, I think, after my part of the evening.
The evening is sponsored by PCSJ (Poetry Center San Jose ), a poetry club dedicated to the art of poetry and supporting the works of local poets. Find out more about the sponsor at http://pcsj.org/ .
-Richard
A small map:
http://www.google.com/search?q=Art+Object+Gallery&rls=com.microsoft:en-us&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8&startIndex=&startPage=1
-- Richard Burns Reads His Poetry --
Tuesday, Oct. 6, 2009, 7:30PM
Art Object Gallery
592 North 5th Street
San Jose, CA 95112
http://www.artobjectgallery.com/index.html
(It’s near Jackson Street.)
I've been invited by Linda Lappin, Vice President of PCSJ, to open their Tuesday evening open mike. I will read Award Winners "Cold Temptation" and "TV Is Somethin' " and more. My works include two poems published in the South Bay Writers inaugural anthology, Who Are Our Friends? and Other Works by South Bay Writers, edited by Meredy Amyx, including "America, Don't Pass Me By."
There is an open mike scheduled, one poem from each reader, I think, after my part of the evening.
The evening is sponsored by PCSJ (Poetry Center San Jose ), a poetry club dedicated to the art of poetry and supporting the works of local poets. Find out more about the sponsor at http://pcsj.org/ .
-Richard
A small map:
http://www.google.com/search?q=Art+Object+Gallery&rls=com.microsoft:en-us&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8&startIndex=&startPage=1
Friday, September 11, 2009
eMail Me At ...
My eMail Address changed on 10 Sep 2009 as follows:
richard5599@att.net
If you're someone who contacts me, you should update my email address in your contact list. Or to send me any comments and questions you don't want on the blog, now you know where to send it.
I thank you. -rb
richard5599@att.net
If you're someone who contacts me, you should update my email address in your contact list. Or to send me any comments and questions you don't want on the blog, now you know where to send it.
I thank you. -rb
Sunday, August 9, 2009
My Shoshoni Indian Research Trip
Here are excerpts from email letters, showing my excitement over a research trip to Nevada and Idaho.
From an Aug 1 letter to my step-daughter in Meridian, Idaho:
“Am safely back home (and beat) as of 3pm yesterday (Saturday, Aug 1, 2009), after 4 night-time stays at various motels and five full drive days through Northern CA, NV, and ID. It was fun to see all you again. …
“I took 240 pictures on the trip …
“I told you, I talked to the Tribal Chairman (chief), Dale Barr, of the Paiute-Shoshoni Tribe at Fort McDermitt Reservation, northern NV just off Highway 95. He said, water shortage on some of the lower ranches makes for drought conditions every year. The rancher-Indians suffer from a policy termed "best use" of resources, a bill passed by the Nevada legislature in the 1960s called the McCarron amendment passed. I still need to verify the precise import of this fact through googling. It’s purely a coincidence that the main issue in my novel has my protagonist fighting to keep water on the fictitious reservation near some mountains in Nevada. I got a big kick from our meeting, as I had just dropped in. He had a few minutes to very graciously shoe-horn me into his busy morning.
“Then, after I saw you [my Idaho step-daughter], I visited other Shoshoni Indians, they are in-laws on my ex-wife's side on the South Fork Reservation 26 miles south of Elko, Nevada–I dropped in out of nowhere–I’d misplaced their phone numbers. We had a jolly time talking about Western-Shoshoni (the Nevada version of four or five disparate Shoshoni cultures). We talked about their traditions, myths, religions, and some Numi (Shoshoni) language words I’d forgotten. It was a morning in their grand country. I consider the setting a major "character" in my novel. A photo or two are attached. I hope to post more into a Facebook album….”
And here's this from an Aug 2 email to my niece near Elko, Nevada:
“Hi Dallas [my niece, Shoshoni Indian from her mother’s side, Eutopean from her father's side.] I’m writing my book, Sagebrush at Stony Creek (editing, actually) and found this word. This is my recall for a bush or shrub somebody would stoop behind to go to the bathroom outside in a hurry: gwida-gwahnah …
“How I recall it, `pine-nut pudding' is dib-bah-gweenee. Please let me know if that’s right ….
(This is my own attempt at spelling how it sounds to a speaker of American-English.)
“Also, if younger brother is dahmee (or dahmeechee), Dallas, what is older brother? Thanks. (For the curious student of the Numi language, Te-Mook dialect, spoken south of Elko, NV, my niece's answer was bah-bee means older brother.)
“The grapes and cherries came in handy for my drive home through the long NV desert. Thanks. Had good time out there. I took some great photos of the ruggedly beautiful Ruby Mountains, too,
From an Aug 1 letter to my step-daughter in Meridian, Idaho:
“Am safely back home (and beat) as of 3pm yesterday (Saturday, Aug 1, 2009), after 4 night-time stays at various motels and five full drive days through Northern CA, NV, and ID. It was fun to see all you again. …
“I took 240 pictures on the trip …
“I told you, I talked to the Tribal Chairman (chief), Dale Barr, of the Paiute-Shoshoni Tribe at Fort McDermitt Reservation, northern NV just off Highway 95. He said, water shortage on some of the lower ranches makes for drought conditions every year. The rancher-Indians suffer from a policy termed "best use" of resources, a bill passed by the Nevada legislature in the 1960s called the McCarron amendment passed. I still need to verify the precise import of this fact through googling. It’s purely a coincidence that the main issue in my novel has my protagonist fighting to keep water on the fictitious reservation near some mountains in Nevada. I got a big kick from our meeting, as I had just dropped in. He had a few minutes to very graciously shoe-horn me into his busy morning.
“Then, after I saw you [my Idaho step-daughter], I visited other Shoshoni Indians, they are in-laws on my ex-wife's side on the South Fork Reservation 26 miles south of Elko, Nevada–I dropped in out of nowhere–I’d misplaced their phone numbers. We had a jolly time talking about Western-Shoshoni (the Nevada version of four or five disparate Shoshoni cultures). We talked about their traditions, myths, religions, and some Numi (Shoshoni) language words I’d forgotten. It was a morning in their grand country. I consider the setting a major "character" in my novel. A photo or two are attached. I hope to post more into a Facebook album….”
And here's this from an Aug 2 email to my niece near Elko, Nevada:
“Hi Dallas [my niece, Shoshoni Indian from her mother’s side, Eutopean from her father's side.] I’m writing my book, Sagebrush at Stony Creek (editing, actually) and found this word. This is my recall for a bush or shrub somebody would stoop behind to go to the bathroom outside in a hurry: gwida-gwahnah …
“How I recall it, `pine-nut pudding' is dib-bah-gweenee. Please let me know if that’s right ….
(This is my own attempt at spelling how it sounds to a speaker of American-English.)
“Also, if younger brother is dahmee (or dahmeechee), Dallas, what is older brother? Thanks. (For the curious student of the Numi language, Te-Mook dialect, spoken south of Elko, NV, my niece's answer was bah-bee means older brother.)
“The grapes and cherries came in handy for my drive home through the long NV desert. Thanks. Had good time out there. I took some great photos of the ruggedly beautiful Ruby Mountains, too,
as well as some of the creeks that run through South Fork Reservation (Shoshoni—Te Mook Band). I’ve seen that spelled Te-Moak Band on maps, seems to change every few years. There’s another reservation of that band that I've never visited near Battle Mountain, NV.
“Uncle Richard”
“Uncle Richard”
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