Saturday, June 26, 2010

Needful Shouts II


More blogs I love to read, and why:

Bernita's Innocent-A:

For my money, there's simply no one better at writing about craft. Or the business of writing. Or the strange and sometimes eerie tone-poem that is our mutual journey from cradle to grave. She's quite simply a wonderful writer.

Barbara Martin's Self-Titled Blog:


Her book reviews are enjoyable, but Barbara's real strength is in her photo essays of Canada's hiking trails. She really brings the Rocky Mountain wilderness to life!

Shauna's Love of Words:


There's a strange phenomenon made possible (perhaps even common) by the internet: friends you've never actually met. I'm actually good friends with many of the writers behind my favorite blogs, and Shauna is one of my favorites. Her wit and charm, good humor and good company make every visit a treat. :)

Frankenstein 1959:


There's no one like Wayne Allen Sallee. No one. Part madman, part poet, a writer and urban visionary right to his core, Wayne has a publishing track record that would be a credit to any wordsmith. His blog is wild, a closer look at the strange and forgotten corners of old comics, cheesy monster movies, his own past and present and above all the fractured, ever-changing face of his beloved Chicago. I don't have the right words to do this man justice...

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Needful Shouts I



Last night blogger was being a little cranky. So was I, once the codeine wore off. I did manage to remove the old links, the dead links and the links I haven't traveled since forever. Tonight (and I suspect for a few nights to come), I'll be adding new ones.

And it occured to me, maybe y'all would enjoy seeing what I'm reading and why. You never know, you just might find a new favourite! :-)

I'll do a few at a time. Tonight, in no particular order:

The Dreaming Tree:

Lana Gramlich is one heck of a fine painter and photographer. A few minutes spent looking at the pretty pictures never fails to inspire...

Erik's Choice:

Erik Donald France writes about architecture and old times, urban planning and book reviews and the Blues. It's an eclectic mix, always entertaining.

Down Under-- Kiwi Thoughts:

Heather Hapeta is a friend, a fellow writer, a lunch buddy and one heck of a well-traveled, on-to-it, entertaining lady. Any of you out there interested in travel writing will find her an invaluable resource.

Lavender, Spice and All Things Nice:


Back when she was in Christchurch, I was a HUGE fan of Melanie's baking. I miss her dearly, but if she hadn't moved when she did, I'd look like Ben Stiller at the end of Dodgeball about now...,

Seriously, her food rocks. I want more.

That's me for tonight. I'm going to take a little codeine, write a few more pages and drift.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Reboot

A week before my surgery, I had a consult with my anaesthesiologist. When I pointed out that he seemed more concerned about this project than my surgeon, he gave me the reason for his gravity.

"Anaesthesia," he said, "is the fine art of almost, but not quite, killing you. I'd rather like to make sure we bring you back."

Chastened, I did what he told me. On the day, a little valium loosened me up. Some *very* happy liquid started pumping into a vein in the back of my hand. A nice young lady put a rubber mask over my face. The air blowing into the mask began to taste medicinal and I went away.

That was a week ago. I'm mending nicely, no complaints. Thing is, the guy who came out of the anaesthetic isn't quite the same as the guy who went under.

Maybe it's the lovely, lovely meds I'm on. Or the promise of actually being pain free once this wound heals. Or some kind of mystical, near-death thing (I certainly felt MIGHTY strange after I came back around). Don't know, don't care. All I can say is, I feel like a sludgy old hard drive that's been reformatted. Faster startup, faster functioning, a new lease on life.

Anyway, this new guy still likes writing and drawing and all the big major things, but there are differences, lots of little differences. Differences I can't explain: The thought of sardines is no longer appetizing. The book I was reading before the operation was no longer interesting. I've had a strange compulsion to put lots of Led Zeppelin on my iPod.

Little differences. And yeah, I'm enjoying this slightly altered new version. The biggest thing I've noticed is that I'm clear and active, effective in a way I haven't been for at least a year. maybe two.

This rocks!

Anyway, to that end, I'll be cleaning house on this blog-- sweeping out the old and unused, adding in the awesome but long-neglected. And I might just look around and see if I can find a new look for this blog, too....

It's good to be back, y'all. :-)

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Just When I Thought I Was Out


So my graphic novels have been out of print for five or so years now, but there's still no shortage of folks who see me as a cartoonist.

My love affair with comics has been powerful and painful, and yeah, maybe it broke my heart. But it seems that when it comes down to it, I'll still rush to their defense...

You can read the interview here. :)

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Drop Means Props

Our friend Candy is currently in the middle of her annual struggle with the Art Department to find a cover for the latest St. Cyr novel.

Just thought I'd show her that she's getting her props over here in the Antipodes!

(And just in case you didn't know, 'drop' is when the bookstore puts your book face-out there in the aisle or at the front of the store. Obviously, this means more copies are going to get picked up and looked at, so the stores charge the publishers dearly for the privilege. Your publisher will only come up out of the pocket if they think people are actually going to BUY your book. In the publishing world, drop is a serious show of support.)

Monday, March 22, 2010

Amazed


United States takes a crucial step closer to joining modern civilization.

It ain't perfect, and it's still pretty primitive compared to the way things work out here in the civilized world, but I for one am happy for this little bit of progress in my birth country...

Good on ya!

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Subtle Tools


My last post was about characterization. I used cinematic examples, something I often do because the odds are better that you've all seen the same movies than that you've read the same books. Unfortunately, I feel that I managed to snare myself a little bit there.

You see, talking about movies, it's too easy to fall into the visual language of film. Too easy to overlook some of the novelist's finest tools.

Sure, there are some things movies do that books can't. The best car chases I've ever read (all by George Pelecanos, as it happens) still struggle to compare to the average Hollywood action movie. And the fine fight scenes of John D MacDonald, Joe R Lansdale, John Connolly or Lee Child still don't compare to the adrenalin rush of watching Jason Bourne, Daniel Craig's Bond or Jet Li.

Movies do visual. They do it well, brilliantly even. But that is also Hollywood's weakness: they can only put an image on the screen.

Novelists have a wonderful array of much, much more subtle tools at their disposal.

I'll use the former example of a 'Clark Kent' character, someone who may seem mild on the outside but the reader is to understand possesses hidden depths.

Thoughts: It may seem too obvious, but we do have the power to let our readers in on our characters' thoughts. Way back when, mild-mannered Clark might have thought, "Janet doesn't suspect that I am Secret Heroman, the one she seeks." These days, it's more fashionable and effective to have another character give that information to the reader:

Janet watched Clark move around the room. He always came off like a big shaggy dog, sort of clumsy and sweet, but Janet was never able to escape the sense that Clark was a steel trap, coiled and ready to spring.

Now, no matter what a dishrag Clark is over the next few chapters, we'll still have that little seed in the back of our minds. And notice that in addition to moving into another character's head for the thoughts, I also didn't present those thoughts as dialogue.

Small Reactions: Movies do a pretty fair job with the big reactions, and a particularly gifted actor can express a wide array of subtle emotions just by lifting an eyebrow. But a filmmaker cannot be sure of getting their star of choice, or of the shot they want. And there's no guarantee the folks in the seats will see interpret that raised eyebrow the right way, or even notice it. With prose, we can isolate these expressions and make sure the reader knows what it means.

Janet's eyes narrowed. That car had come within inches of hitting them, and Clark didn't seem to care. Her own heart was racing, her breath short. Clark was cool and calm, quiet and poised. Almost bored.

"That maniac could have killed us," he said.

We know how we would react to a minor crisis like a near hit and run. Clark's unusual reaction, and Janet's careful appraisal, plant that crucial seed. Also, her more normal reactions are there for contrast.

Outright Exposition: This tool isn't subtle, but one of our strengths as novelists is the length of story that we have to work with. Every second of screen-time in a movie costs a small fortune, quite a bit more than a page of print.

"You stand around there, looking all sleepy and slow and not too bright, but you don't fool me." The old man shook his head and laughed. "I was there that night the Jonas brothers showed up drunk and high and God knows what else. They were pure tearing the hell out of the place, and you just stood there like a big dope watching. Right up until those boys laid a hand on Miss Polly."

This time the old man laughed until he coughed, and he coughed until he spat, thin and brown.

"I was there, boy. You can't fool me."

John D MacDonald used this one a fair bit. Yeah, it sidetracks us from the narrative. Yeah, there are more economical ways to drop this hint. So what. You make it entertaining enough and your readers will be too busy imagining what happened that night with the Jonas brothers to notice that they were sidelined.

Environment: This one's great fun. You get to be all poetical and stuff. Basically, you take some quality of the environment or element of the natural world and juxtapose it against your character to make a point.

"The wallet, dickhead. Give it." The gun in the mugger's hand was a little block of chrome, no bigger than a child's toy. To Janet the barrel looked as wide as the Holland Tunnel.

It was a beautiful summer day in the park. Children played on the swings, students threw a frisbee on the lawn and an urban hawk wheeled overhead, still and slow.

Clark stood. He held his hands low and out to his sides.

"You hear me, dickhead? The wallet."

Janet thought she might wet her pants. If the gun in the mugger's hand bothered Clark, he gave no sign. His eyes moved from the children to the students and back to the man with the gun. He pulled a flat square of dark leather from his front pocket. The hawk's shadow glided over the grass at his feet.

The mugger grabbed the wallet and ran. Janet bent over, knees shaking. Tears rose hot and shameful, blinding her.

"Goddammit, Clark, why couldn't you
do something? God damn it!"

Clark said nothing. The hawk plummeted, a dark shadow out of the blue sky, seizing its prey.

James Lee Burke is really the master at this. His latest book features a brilliant scene in which a mild-seeming man confronts an underworld figure. The man's words are quiet, his manner assured. On the far side of the picture window, a shark menaces a group of swimmer's. The hitman's true nature, and the danger he represents are clear.

There are probably a few more I could think of, but right about now I need to be getting back to the ol' novel...