Apr 2010
The Tourist (6)
30/04/10
I just finished writing the last chapter of The Tourist. Don’t get excited (as if), I haven’t written the ten or so chapters between where I left off the other day, and the end of the book. But I did write what I now see as the last chapter. It came to me this morning that the way to go was to lean on the formal structure of the book, as originally conceived by me.
As discussed in previous blogs, I had, since high school, wanted to create a work of (presumably) fiction that combined the best features of both poetry and prose. Prose would hopefully contribute narrative power, dialogue, and clarity. Poetry would contribute rhythm, rhyme, and recurring structure. For instance, a pre-modern poem likely was written with a rhythm scheme, the most well know being Iambic Pentameter - meaning that there are five ‘feet’ per line, and that each foot has two beats, e.g. ‘My dear/how will/ I know/you love/just me?’ In this type of poem these is also a rhyme scheme. For instance, a poem can have the scheme; AABCA, meaning that the last word of the first two lines and the last word of the last line rhyme. For instance:
I wish I knew.
Just what to do.
My heart’s aflame
My soul’s afraid
Can it be true?
If the poem was entirely regular, each stanza would have two feet per line and two beats per foot, and use the AABCA rhyme scheme
Clearly, that much regularity would soon get old, in a modern poem, never mind in a novel. But certain aspects of regularity can be used. For instance, in Except My Love For You, the structure of certain chapters was duplicated, in some cases several times - in particular when the actions of the characters tended to be repeated - as they so often are in life. Also, life throws casual examples of deja vu at us all the time. EMLFY just makes the repetition more obvious, hopefully in an illuminating manner.
Rhyme and rhythm were used more casually in EMLFY, to move the prose along, to emphasize important points - and just for the pure pleasure of verse. The recurrence of certain themes and images is of course old hat in novel writing. However, I tried to take the devises to a new level. As well, embedding the verse elements right in the main body of the text, as opposed to putting them at the beginning or the end of chapters, is not usual. An example of my type of use of verse, in other published novels, does not come to mind. If any reader knows one, I’d be very interested to hear about it.
Naturally, the use of any preconceived techniques must be subordinate to the actual effect in the work. In EMLFY, there is plenty of straight-forward expository and descriptive prose, unassociated with any recurrent structure. After all, the book has to work for the reader, not just the author! On the other hand, owing to my incapacities or inexperience, in the event, to an (large? small?) extent, I simply didn’t reach the level of integration of prose and poetry that I originally envisioned. So, as you already know, any imperfections of any kind in EMLFY are down to me, and not to the requirements of public taste or the received canons of taste.
As previously blogged, when I began writing The Tourist, I was in the full flush of surprise publishing success. So I went ahead with writing a second novel without the opportunity for reflecting upon the constructive criticism I received for EMLFY. I intended to, and did begin to write the new novel to be as much in full compliance with my poetry/prose marriage theories as possible. The writing went well for a time, then bogged down in the attempt to ‘keep the faith’ while making the plot and the characterizations work, to the sense of an intelligent readership. I chewed the cud of good comment and advise, then began again. I re-wrote for clarity (as I see it in my funny way!) and to better align the story with a new insight on what the book is about, and therefore how it should end. I moved the plot forward to a climax point, and hiccuped again. But my medicine is my original idea.
This morning, I wrote the last chapter in the form of the first chapter. Although the parallel is not exact, if The Tourist had a ‘rhyme’ scheme for it’s estimated one hundred chapters, it would be:
A (chap 1) ..................... A (chap 100)
Since, I have used the A type chapter twice already, the evolving scheme is:
A ...................A ........................ A ........................A
In fact, I have used the forms of the first, say, three chapters repeatedly already, suggesting this form, so far:
A B C.............ABC....................ABC.....................A
Without saying too much about the plot, so far in the book the protagonist already takes two walks. It occurred to me that his last walk can be a mental or conceptual one,wherein he finally notices things of real importance to his life. Being previously merely a tourist, he failed to notice these things on his real walks in Paris and London, and on his figurative walk through life. For plot reasons that I cannot reveal at present, it makes most sense for his last walk to end with a chapter in form A. Therefore, his walk will be figuratively ‘backwards’ from his previous rambles. The structure, then, begins to look like this:
A B C..............A B C...................ABC....................BCA
Whether or not the reader is overtly aware of what’s going on, the repetition is supposed to give a feeling of familiarity, even inevitability to the development of the plot and the journeys of the characters. If it works.
On the practical level, I have found that re-writing a familiar form more easily generates the ideas necessary to ‘finish’ the story, in all senses.When the raw chapters are done, the juggling (and the junking and the re-drafting) begins. Since there are more like six to eight ‘forms’, and widely different chapter lengths, the juggling will be very detailed - factoring in (besides the overall structure as described) plot sense, recurrence of form, balance of chapter lengths, comic relief, internal and external consistency, plausibility of the actions and the destinies of all of characters, etc. I have 100 index cards in hand, on each of which I intend to record the form number of each chapter, a brief summary of what happens in the chapter, and a word count for each. I’ll lay the cards out on a big table, and shuffle them until they do the job! On second thought, I give up!
Don’t forget The Launch Pad Coffee Shop, May 19 at Churchill Park United Church, 525 Beresford. Doors open at 7:30PM. Open mike starts at 8:00PM.
As discussed in previous blogs, I had, since high school, wanted to create a work of (presumably) fiction that combined the best features of both poetry and prose. Prose would hopefully contribute narrative power, dialogue, and clarity. Poetry would contribute rhythm, rhyme, and recurring structure. For instance, a pre-modern poem likely was written with a rhythm scheme, the most well know being Iambic Pentameter - meaning that there are five ‘feet’ per line, and that each foot has two beats, e.g. ‘My dear/how will/ I know/you love/just me?’ In this type of poem these is also a rhyme scheme. For instance, a poem can have the scheme; AABCA, meaning that the last word of the first two lines and the last word of the last line rhyme. For instance:
I wish I knew.
Just what to do.
My heart’s aflame
My soul’s afraid
Can it be true?
If the poem was entirely regular, each stanza would have two feet per line and two beats per foot, and use the AABCA rhyme scheme
Clearly, that much regularity would soon get old, in a modern poem, never mind in a novel. But certain aspects of regularity can be used. For instance, in Except My Love For You, the structure of certain chapters was duplicated, in some cases several times - in particular when the actions of the characters tended to be repeated - as they so often are in life. Also, life throws casual examples of deja vu at us all the time. EMLFY just makes the repetition more obvious, hopefully in an illuminating manner.
Rhyme and rhythm were used more casually in EMLFY, to move the prose along, to emphasize important points - and just for the pure pleasure of verse. The recurrence of certain themes and images is of course old hat in novel writing. However, I tried to take the devises to a new level. As well, embedding the verse elements right in the main body of the text, as opposed to putting them at the beginning or the end of chapters, is not usual. An example of my type of use of verse, in other published novels, does not come to mind. If any reader knows one, I’d be very interested to hear about it.
Naturally, the use of any preconceived techniques must be subordinate to the actual effect in the work. In EMLFY, there is plenty of straight-forward expository and descriptive prose, unassociated with any recurrent structure. After all, the book has to work for the reader, not just the author! On the other hand, owing to my incapacities or inexperience, in the event, to an (large? small?) extent, I simply didn’t reach the level of integration of prose and poetry that I originally envisioned. So, as you already know, any imperfections of any kind in EMLFY are down to me, and not to the requirements of public taste or the received canons of taste.
As previously blogged, when I began writing The Tourist, I was in the full flush of surprise publishing success. So I went ahead with writing a second novel without the opportunity for reflecting upon the constructive criticism I received for EMLFY. I intended to, and did begin to write the new novel to be as much in full compliance with my poetry/prose marriage theories as possible. The writing went well for a time, then bogged down in the attempt to ‘keep the faith’ while making the plot and the characterizations work, to the sense of an intelligent readership. I chewed the cud of good comment and advise, then began again. I re-wrote for clarity (as I see it in my funny way!) and to better align the story with a new insight on what the book is about, and therefore how it should end. I moved the plot forward to a climax point, and hiccuped again. But my medicine is my original idea.
This morning, I wrote the last chapter in the form of the first chapter. Although the parallel is not exact, if The Tourist had a ‘rhyme’ scheme for it’s estimated one hundred chapters, it would be:
A (chap 1) ..................... A (chap 100)
Since, I have used the A type chapter twice already, the evolving scheme is:
A ...................A ........................ A ........................A
In fact, I have used the forms of the first, say, three chapters repeatedly already, suggesting this form, so far:
A B C.............ABC....................ABC.....................A
Without saying too much about the plot, so far in the book the protagonist already takes two walks. It occurred to me that his last walk can be a mental or conceptual one,wherein he finally notices things of real importance to his life. Being previously merely a tourist, he failed to notice these things on his real walks in Paris and London, and on his figurative walk through life. For plot reasons that I cannot reveal at present, it makes most sense for his last walk to end with a chapter in form A. Therefore, his walk will be figuratively ‘backwards’ from his previous rambles. The structure, then, begins to look like this:
A B C..............A B C...................ABC....................BCA
Whether or not the reader is overtly aware of what’s going on, the repetition is supposed to give a feeling of familiarity, even inevitability to the development of the plot and the journeys of the characters. If it works.
On the practical level, I have found that re-writing a familiar form more easily generates the ideas necessary to ‘finish’ the story, in all senses.When the raw chapters are done, the juggling (and the junking and the re-drafting) begins. Since there are more like six to eight ‘forms’, and widely different chapter lengths, the juggling will be very detailed - factoring in (besides the overall structure as described) plot sense, recurrence of form, balance of chapter lengths, comic relief, internal and external consistency, plausibility of the actions and the destinies of all of characters, etc. I have 100 index cards in hand, on each of which I intend to record the form number of each chapter, a brief summary of what happens in the chapter, and a word count for each. I’ll lay the cards out on a big table, and shuffle them until they do the job! On second thought, I give up!
Don’t forget The Launch Pad Coffee Shop, May 19 at Churchill Park United Church, 525 Beresford. Doors open at 7:30PM. Open mike starts at 8:00PM.
0 Comments
The Tourist (5)
26/04/10
After a few days off from writing, to ramp up for the Launch Pad Coffee House, I got back to re-writing the first partial draft of The Tourist. And... I’m finished the re-write! In fact, I wrote the first wholly new chapter this morning. I was tempted to go back to the beginning again, to study where the book had gotten to - but I resisted. From now on, I’ll try to use my original method of composition, being to schedule a minimum number of words to write per day, based upon an estimate of the size of the final book and the target date of completion. It’s absurd, but it works fro me by imposing artificial discipline.
For instance, The Tourist now has about 83,000 words, and feels to be about 2/3 done. So, the total at completion would be about 125,000 words. At 1,000 words a day, I would need 125 days to complete the draft manuscript. As it happens, counting only work days (i. e. weekends, holidays and vacations off), there are 127 writing days between tomorrow, April 27, and November 30. So (drum roll please) if I write 1,000 words a working day, on average, I should have a completed draft by the end of November. And maybe a second draft (crudely edited) by year end 2010?
I hope to blog every three or so days to report on progress. Hopefully, the blogs will be less about about process (like this one) and more about ideas. Today I have no ideas, so I came up with this dodge!
Next Launch Pad Coffee House is May 19. Be there, all ye artistes and aficionados.
For instance, The Tourist now has about 83,000 words, and feels to be about 2/3 done. So, the total at completion would be about 125,000 words. At 1,000 words a day, I would need 125 days to complete the draft manuscript. As it happens, counting only work days (i. e. weekends, holidays and vacations off), there are 127 writing days between tomorrow, April 27, and November 30. So (drum roll please) if I write 1,000 words a working day, on average, I should have a completed draft by the end of November. And maybe a second draft (crudely edited) by year end 2010?
I hope to blog every three or so days to report on progress. Hopefully, the blogs will be less about about process (like this one) and more about ideas. Today I have no ideas, so I came up with this dodge!
Next Launch Pad Coffee House is May 19. Be there, all ye artistes and aficionados.
The Tourist (4)
18/04/10
I’m now at chapter 73, and the worry rises. To quote Alfred E. Neuman, “What, me worry?”. Worry about what? Well, about how to finish my second novel, The Tourist. Talks with my informal advisors produce useful ideas about how to make the existing manuscript more accessible, clearer, and maybe better. But they don’t answer the central questions (see Tourist (3)) that need convincing answers. If I can’t come up with answers, there was no real point in starting the new book, and there is no point in finishing it. I can’t yet answer the questions. I hope I can at least start to as I write the last chapters of the first draft.
But for now I can at least talk about other questions, ones that don’t really matter. Questions abut the author (for example “Does he have another book in him, or just the one that was based on a life-time of stored up impressions?”) are of some interest to me, but are fundamentally trivial. Putting it another way, in contemporary culture (Do I mean all or culture, or just pop culture?) the concept of Self-Expression as the sovereign force behind creativity has saturated understanding. The idea that a creative work can have any inspiration, or motivation, or justification that is independent of some internal process or need or compulsion of the author (or, from another angle, some need or compulsion of society or of the particular little determinative slice of it from whence the author sprung) is almost completely out of favour.
Judging by my own observations, this is true to such an extant that the very notion that any other factor could influence the decisions or the actions of anyone who would sing, or dance, or write, or paint, or anything, is absurd, if not incomprehensible. Why would John, a retired businessman, write a book? Why, to express himself of course! Or because he had to, to carry out the manifest destiny to do so, implanted by his difficult youth, or inevitably engendered by his later life in the bowels of commerce, or some such whatever. And of course the book can be reverse-emgineered to reveal itself as nothing more or less then the conclusion inevitably resulting from (in fact already present in) the premises of his life - his life in the giant syllogism that is existence, at least as post-moderns deconstruct it. I’m sure even I, no trained creative vivisectionist, could come up with a few hundred pages on what Except My Love For You doesn’t mean.
Except that I wrote it because everything about doing it felt right. And, yes, I had to do it, not because of some existential angst that it might put a poltice on, but because there were some things I felt needed to be said. I am perfectly comfortable in saying that I felt visited by a Muse, one who said “Get off your ass and write this”. Whether or not I succeeded in getting across the ideas, or whether the ideas were worth the effort, are judgements for others to make - and are beside the point for the purposes of this blog. Of course I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. And of course my life history, my previous experiences with composition, and everything that has ever been connected with me are all determinants of why, and how I tried to write my first novel. But they say nothing about the purpose for which I wrote it, or what use it is, if any, to the people who read it.
It is fun ( for me anyway) to talk about how the book relates to me and my personal story, but it is not important. It is the book that is or is not important. I hope it is worth reading, and I am absolutely certain that I know why and for what purpose I wrote it.
Which brings me back to the beginning of this blog. When I began writing The Tourist I was motivated by several things, some higher and some lower. Among the lower but still respectable motives was finding out whether I could do it again. As well, it had been innocent fun to write, and conceited fun to be treated like an author, especially after the first effort had been accepted for publication. Among the higher motives was to determine whether I had the discipline to work like a professional author rather than a tourist in the trade. But the only important reason to make the attempt was that I thought I still had many things to say, things that needed a new plot and character context to put across.
In the event the writing of a second draft manuscript (as explained in Tourist (1), (2), and (3)) went swimmingly, for awhile. But I had to stop, for many reasons already explained, but also because of fundamental questions not then immediately answerable, questions about where the book was heading, and about the purposes for which it was being written. Now, at long last, I have returned to the point where all the questions posed in this and earlier blogs must be dealt with. Or the Muse will refuse to choose.
Don’t forget THE LAUNCH PAD COFFEE HOUSE, this Wednesday, APRIL 21 at Churchill Park United Church, 525 Beresford Avenue. Open Mike all night. Doors open at 7:30PM.
But for now I can at least talk about other questions, ones that don’t really matter. Questions abut the author (for example “Does he have another book in him, or just the one that was based on a life-time of stored up impressions?”) are of some interest to me, but are fundamentally trivial. Putting it another way, in contemporary culture (Do I mean all or culture, or just pop culture?) the concept of Self-Expression as the sovereign force behind creativity has saturated understanding. The idea that a creative work can have any inspiration, or motivation, or justification that is independent of some internal process or need or compulsion of the author (or, from another angle, some need or compulsion of society or of the particular little determinative slice of it from whence the author sprung) is almost completely out of favour.
Judging by my own observations, this is true to such an extant that the very notion that any other factor could influence the decisions or the actions of anyone who would sing, or dance, or write, or paint, or anything, is absurd, if not incomprehensible. Why would John, a retired businessman, write a book? Why, to express himself of course! Or because he had to, to carry out the manifest destiny to do so, implanted by his difficult youth, or inevitably engendered by his later life in the bowels of commerce, or some such whatever. And of course the book can be reverse-emgineered to reveal itself as nothing more or less then the conclusion inevitably resulting from (in fact already present in) the premises of his life - his life in the giant syllogism that is existence, at least as post-moderns deconstruct it. I’m sure even I, no trained creative vivisectionist, could come up with a few hundred pages on what Except My Love For You doesn’t mean.
Except that I wrote it because everything about doing it felt right. And, yes, I had to do it, not because of some existential angst that it might put a poltice on, but because there were some things I felt needed to be said. I am perfectly comfortable in saying that I felt visited by a Muse, one who said “Get off your ass and write this”. Whether or not I succeeded in getting across the ideas, or whether the ideas were worth the effort, are judgements for others to make - and are beside the point for the purposes of this blog. Of course I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. And of course my life history, my previous experiences with composition, and everything that has ever been connected with me are all determinants of why, and how I tried to write my first novel. But they say nothing about the purpose for which I wrote it, or what use it is, if any, to the people who read it.
It is fun ( for me anyway) to talk about how the book relates to me and my personal story, but it is not important. It is the book that is or is not important. I hope it is worth reading, and I am absolutely certain that I know why and for what purpose I wrote it.
Which brings me back to the beginning of this blog. When I began writing The Tourist I was motivated by several things, some higher and some lower. Among the lower but still respectable motives was finding out whether I could do it again. As well, it had been innocent fun to write, and conceited fun to be treated like an author, especially after the first effort had been accepted for publication. Among the higher motives was to determine whether I had the discipline to work like a professional author rather than a tourist in the trade. But the only important reason to make the attempt was that I thought I still had many things to say, things that needed a new plot and character context to put across.
In the event the writing of a second draft manuscript (as explained in Tourist (1), (2), and (3)) went swimmingly, for awhile. But I had to stop, for many reasons already explained, but also because of fundamental questions not then immediately answerable, questions about where the book was heading, and about the purposes for which it was being written. Now, at long last, I have returned to the point where all the questions posed in this and earlier blogs must be dealt with. Or the Muse will refuse to choose.
Don’t forget THE LAUNCH PAD COFFEE HOUSE, this Wednesday, APRIL 21 at Churchill Park United Church, 525 Beresford Avenue. Open Mike all night. Doors open at 7:30PM.
The Tourist (3)
13/04/10
I have now reached chapter 70 of my re-write of the first partial draft of my new novel, The Tourist. The process of tweaking (or wrenching!) the prose to fit my revised overall theme (as suggested by the new working title) is going well enough, and I am having fun inserting e-mails, voice mails and diary entries at the end of most chapters (see The Tourist (2) ). But I will soon reach the end of the first draft, at chapter 80, and so must soon face the dread question - How do I end it? In the narrow sense, the plot has reached a point where one infuriated character has threatened violence against another, ostensibly because of very bad actions by the threatened character, against the interests (to put it mildly) of the threatener. The PO’d character is mistaken in his accusation, but still has strong other motives for carrying out his threat. So what to do? Have him do the violence and let the author pick up the pieces of the story - in a real downer situation? Or have the angry guy learn the truth just in time to prevent his attack - with the author left with a climax where nothing happened?
More broadly though, the issue is how to resolve (or leave hanging?) all the interpersonal conflict in a believable way, while still saying something worth hearing about the point of the book. Someone is The Tourist. Why? What flowed from that fact? What did any of the characters learn or become because of the things that happened in the story? What conclusions did the author reach? The readers?
Anybody got any ideas? Any co-authors out there?
P.S. On April 21, don’t forget to bring your talent (or just your appreciation) down to The Launch Pad at Churchill Park United Church, 525 Beresford. Doors open at 7:30PM. The show starts at 8:00PM, and it’s all open mike!
More broadly though, the issue is how to resolve (or leave hanging?) all the interpersonal conflict in a believable way, while still saying something worth hearing about the point of the book. Someone is The Tourist. Why? What flowed from that fact? What did any of the characters learn or become because of the things that happened in the story? What conclusions did the author reach? The readers?
Anybody got any ideas? Any co-authors out there?
P.S. On April 21, don’t forget to bring your talent (or just your appreciation) down to The Launch Pad at Churchill Park United Church, 525 Beresford. Doors open at 7:30PM. The show starts at 8:00PM, and it’s all open mike!
The Tourist (2)
09/04/10
Today I reached Chapter 63 in my re-write of the partial draft of my new novel, The Tourist. Among the criticisms of the first draft was that it was taking too long to engage the reader in the plot, because a lot of time was being used to describe the opening scene - a restaurant in the Latin Quarter of Paris.Why Paris?, some asked. My answer was that the characteristics of Paris/French society would have a bearing on the conduct of some of the characters, and that French society/characters were going to be contrasted with their counterparts in London, Toronto, and maybe Winnipeg. As well, the plot of the novel being written by the then main protagonist, Bill, was to involve elements of the “Two Solitudes” of which Canada is famously composed.
Well, I was told, that’s all great so long as the reader maintains interest long enough to get to the payoff. I momentarily considered beefing about the short attention span of modern readers, and the patience readers of the classics display, but a) this is the modern world, and b) I can’t assume that I do or will ever write classics! So, what to do? I took a cue from another comment I had received. The comment was that the first book had a very strong ‘hook’ that grabbed some readers right away - being the Minimum List. I didn’t want to use a gimmick to snare readers, but rather something that was integral to the plot or the characters, or the point of the book, like the Minimal List was central to the reason for writing Except My Love For You.
Another clue for me was a criticism I received for introducing an e-mail exchange very late in the plot, as it then stood.The e-mails were crucial to establishing a communication between two of the characters, and were the cause of a misunderstanding. The error was based upon a misinterpretation of the e-mails by a third character. It occurred to me that a thread of e-mails, voice-mails, texts, etc., starting at the beginning and running through the book, could serve several functions. Despite several re-writes to simplify descriptions and narration, the book starts out (and continues off and on) with a fairly dense and challenging style of writing. As explained in my last blog, I want to strike a balance, between serving a modern market, and keeping my ‘voice”. Otherwise what is my contribution, regardless of popularity or otherwise? So the style remains challenging. However, punctuating the thick prose with the breezy common language of e-mails, etc. could serve as a pallet-cleanser, if you will. If it is well conceived it can, if not get the fish to bite, at least set the hook like a sharp tug on a fishing rod!
As well, if carefully crafted (a big challenge) the end-of-chapter chatter can act like a Greek Chorus, making the idea points more directly than the main text, or adding to the readers’ knowledge of the character’s personalities - though hopefully not so overtly or pompously as the real Greek Choruses. Don’t get me wrong I love the Classics, but that was then and this is now.
With these intentions in mind, I went back to the beginning, re-wrote yet again for simplicity, and added ‘off-stage’ back-and-forths between the characters. The process is going famously so far. Whether it’s working or not, time will tell. And if not time, my guinea pigs, Kate Hodgert, Darren Fast, and Eric Wawaruk will.
More soon.
Well, I was told, that’s all great so long as the reader maintains interest long enough to get to the payoff. I momentarily considered beefing about the short attention span of modern readers, and the patience readers of the classics display, but a) this is the modern world, and b) I can’t assume that I do or will ever write classics! So, what to do? I took a cue from another comment I had received. The comment was that the first book had a very strong ‘hook’ that grabbed some readers right away - being the Minimum List. I didn’t want to use a gimmick to snare readers, but rather something that was integral to the plot or the characters, or the point of the book, like the Minimal List was central to the reason for writing Except My Love For You.
Another clue for me was a criticism I received for introducing an e-mail exchange very late in the plot, as it then stood.The e-mails were crucial to establishing a communication between two of the characters, and were the cause of a misunderstanding. The error was based upon a misinterpretation of the e-mails by a third character. It occurred to me that a thread of e-mails, voice-mails, texts, etc., starting at the beginning and running through the book, could serve several functions. Despite several re-writes to simplify descriptions and narration, the book starts out (and continues off and on) with a fairly dense and challenging style of writing. As explained in my last blog, I want to strike a balance, between serving a modern market, and keeping my ‘voice”. Otherwise what is my contribution, regardless of popularity or otherwise? So the style remains challenging. However, punctuating the thick prose with the breezy common language of e-mails, etc. could serve as a pallet-cleanser, if you will. If it is well conceived it can, if not get the fish to bite, at least set the hook like a sharp tug on a fishing rod!
As well, if carefully crafted (a big challenge) the end-of-chapter chatter can act like a Greek Chorus, making the idea points more directly than the main text, or adding to the readers’ knowledge of the character’s personalities - though hopefully not so overtly or pompously as the real Greek Choruses. Don’t get me wrong I love the Classics, but that was then and this is now.
With these intentions in mind, I went back to the beginning, re-wrote yet again for simplicity, and added ‘off-stage’ back-and-forths between the characters. The process is going famously so far. Whether it’s working or not, time will tell. And if not time, my guinea pigs, Kate Hodgert, Darren Fast, and Eric Wawaruk will.
More soon.
The Tourist
07/04/10
This day (April 7, 2010) I have reached Chapter Sixty in my re-write of the first eighty chapters of my second novel, The Tourist. I began writing the book back in 2007, just after I had finished Except My Love For You, but before it had been accepted for publication, or extensively edited - in the first flush of the success of having a first draft of my first novel. Because the few people who had read EMLFY had liked it, I had dived right into doing another book. My operating principal was “Let’s give them more of the same, only more so!” Which is to say, I blew off whatever (slight) restraint I had exercised to control my... how shall we say?... idiosyncratic writing style - loaded with plays on words, over-loaded with references to the pop and the serious worlds of art and life. And an, at times, almost rococco approach to description and sentence structure. As well, I had attempted to accomplish a life-long artistic goal - to give a work of prose the formal style of a classic poem: irregular rhyme, repetitive structure (i.e different chapters with very similar structures, like stanzas in a poem), lyricism, evocative ambiguity, and (please the Muse) concentrated, precise, and beautiful language
During the editing of EMLFY preparatory to publication, my editors, Wayne Tefs and Alan McKenzie, told me that some of my style worked and some didn’t. Fortunately for me, I listened to them, and made many adjustments. I didn’t always take their suggestion because, as they said and I agreed - there always needs to be a balance between cleaving to what is conventionally considered good form, and sticking to your guns to the degree necessary to keep your ‘voice’, to use the cliche accurate word. Wayne said there would be criticism by some, and there was. But altogether I was happy with the result, as I hope and assume were most of the hundreds (so far) of people who bought the book.
Anyway, the insights described in the paragraph above became clear to me only after I had written nearly 100, 000 words of the new work. The structure of the new book, then having the working title of Turtle Dove, was on a whole new level of complexity vs. EMLFY, as was the prospective plot, the number and diversity of the characters, the locales (Paris, London, Toronto, Winnipeg), and, most importantly, the ideas behind the book, or the moral, or the point of it all - whatever you want to call it. In short, it was an extremely ambitious project.
The new book had been bravely started, but, as the EMLFY work and insight progressed, and the non-writing work on publication continued (marketing, recording, performing, documenting, etc.), work on the Turtle Dove came to a halt. I was tired, and confused as to where to go beyond a certain climax in the plot that the drafting had reached. Their were many balls in the air. How to catch them all? Besides, there was plenty to do on other composing fronts (music, poetry, blogging, etc.) so I put the work aside for what I though would be a short while. Skip ahead two and a half years.
I dusted off the manuscript in late 2009, poked away at it a bit, and asked my publisher Ray Blumenfeld and his editor Alan McKenzie to look at the unfinished draft. They had impressions, good and bad, and suggestions. Ultimatley, I got back to work, with the help of them, and a few other friends. But I’m out of time. More about their comments, and my new ideas and revived process next time. Oh, and the new novel is now called The Tourist.
Don’t forget The Launch Pad Coffee House at 525 Beresford on April 21. Doors open at 7:30PM. I’ll be performing with my main men, Tony Buchner and Darren Fast.
During the editing of EMLFY preparatory to publication, my editors, Wayne Tefs and Alan McKenzie, told me that some of my style worked and some didn’t. Fortunately for me, I listened to them, and made many adjustments. I didn’t always take their suggestion because, as they said and I agreed - there always needs to be a balance between cleaving to what is conventionally considered good form, and sticking to your guns to the degree necessary to keep your ‘voice’, to use the cliche accurate word. Wayne said there would be criticism by some, and there was. But altogether I was happy with the result, as I hope and assume were most of the hundreds (so far) of people who bought the book.
Anyway, the insights described in the paragraph above became clear to me only after I had written nearly 100, 000 words of the new work. The structure of the new book, then having the working title of Turtle Dove, was on a whole new level of complexity vs. EMLFY, as was the prospective plot, the number and diversity of the characters, the locales (Paris, London, Toronto, Winnipeg), and, most importantly, the ideas behind the book, or the moral, or the point of it all - whatever you want to call it. In short, it was an extremely ambitious project.
The new book had been bravely started, but, as the EMLFY work and insight progressed, and the non-writing work on publication continued (marketing, recording, performing, documenting, etc.), work on the Turtle Dove came to a halt. I was tired, and confused as to where to go beyond a certain climax in the plot that the drafting had reached. Their were many balls in the air. How to catch them all? Besides, there was plenty to do on other composing fronts (music, poetry, blogging, etc.) so I put the work aside for what I though would be a short while. Skip ahead two and a half years.
I dusted off the manuscript in late 2009, poked away at it a bit, and asked my publisher Ray Blumenfeld and his editor Alan McKenzie to look at the unfinished draft. They had impressions, good and bad, and suggestions. Ultimatley, I got back to work, with the help of them, and a few other friends. But I’m out of time. More about their comments, and my new ideas and revived process next time. Oh, and the new novel is now called The Tourist.
Don’t forget The Launch Pad Coffee House at 525 Beresford on April 21. Doors open at 7:30PM. I’ll be performing with my main men, Tony Buchner and Darren Fast.
Soldiering On
03/04/10
I am finishing an order of fries at Junior’s Restaurant, kitty corner from my alma mater Glenlawn Collegiate (class of 1968, or thereabouts). After a recent flurry of activity in aid of the Launch Pad Coffee House, I’ve been drifting, as regards writing, music, and blogging. However, I’m determined to buckle down.
On the music front, Tony Buchner and I are rehearsing a set for the April 21 coffee house. As well as the regular three song group for the open mike part of the proceedings, we’re working out a feature piece at te beginning, based on my song Soldiers’ Cemetery. The song was originally a poem written about eight years ago. Becuse it was in a very regular form, with a fixed number of ‘feet’ in each corresponding line in every stanza, and employed a consistent pattern of rhymes, it easily suggested itself as song lyrics. To make it work as a song, I had to lose the endings of several stanzas, and add a bridge of new material. Tony and I have been working on recording the song, off and on over the last few years.
It was decided to go without an opening act at the next Launch Pad on April 21. To fill the gap, I thought of using Soldiers’ Cemetery to open the show - but expanded to include other elements. It is a work in progress, but the idea at this point is to open the show with me reciting the original poem, with the ‘missing’ lyrics. That would satisfy my poet ego! While I spoke, photographs relating to the theme of the poem would be projected onto a screen beside the stage. The photos would be taken, edited, assembled, and projected by Darren Fast, my pal and former co-worker.
At some point in the reading of the poem I would be joined on-stage by Tony ,and perhaps other musicians, who would begin to play the chords and beat of the song. When I finished reading the poem, I would join the other musicians while they continued to play. When we were all on stage we would segue into singing the complete song - while photos continued to appear on the screen. There’s lots to work out, and the details will no doubt change. But I hope we can give it a shot.
For now, here is the original poem, with the bridge from the song added, in italics:
THE SOLDIERS’ CEMETERY
I walked the soldiers’ cemetery,
Where my father is not buried
Rode the bus never taken by us,
I prayed to Christ Unrisen
What is your decision?
Will you bury me?
You said your love was temporary,
Lent to me as necessary.
Paid the debt, never had a regret.
I lived in debtors’ prison.
What is my position?
Will you unchain me?
I know I was your sweet Mad Hatter,
When my wishes did not matter.
Took the prize and a ton of your lies
I pardoned your affliction,
What is your prediction?
Will you wish for me?
I walked the martyr’s crematory
Where I’ll never burn in glory.
Ground our lust till it crumbled in dust.
I prayed to God Unsightly.
Does it even slightly?
Does it matter at all?
There’s a moment on the other side of now,
When all our worries whistle past their grave,
When emptiness is filled,
Fears are blown away,
And young men never die to prove they’re brave.
I walked the martyr’s crematory
Where I’ll never burn in glory.
Ground our lust till it crumbled in dust.
I prayed to God Unsightly.
Does it even slightly?
Does it matter at all?
TOMORROW - I BLOG ABOUT THE PROCESS OF WRITING THE NEW NOVEL, THE TOURIST
On the music front, Tony Buchner and I are rehearsing a set for the April 21 coffee house. As well as the regular three song group for the open mike part of the proceedings, we’re working out a feature piece at te beginning, based on my song Soldiers’ Cemetery. The song was originally a poem written about eight years ago. Becuse it was in a very regular form, with a fixed number of ‘feet’ in each corresponding line in every stanza, and employed a consistent pattern of rhymes, it easily suggested itself as song lyrics. To make it work as a song, I had to lose the endings of several stanzas, and add a bridge of new material. Tony and I have been working on recording the song, off and on over the last few years.
It was decided to go without an opening act at the next Launch Pad on April 21. To fill the gap, I thought of using Soldiers’ Cemetery to open the show - but expanded to include other elements. It is a work in progress, but the idea at this point is to open the show with me reciting the original poem, with the ‘missing’ lyrics. That would satisfy my poet ego! While I spoke, photographs relating to the theme of the poem would be projected onto a screen beside the stage. The photos would be taken, edited, assembled, and projected by Darren Fast, my pal and former co-worker.
At some point in the reading of the poem I would be joined on-stage by Tony ,and perhaps other musicians, who would begin to play the chords and beat of the song. When I finished reading the poem, I would join the other musicians while they continued to play. When we were all on stage we would segue into singing the complete song - while photos continued to appear on the screen. There’s lots to work out, and the details will no doubt change. But I hope we can give it a shot.
For now, here is the original poem, with the bridge from the song added, in italics:
THE SOLDIERS’ CEMETERY
I walked the soldiers’ cemetery,
Where my father is not buried
Rode the bus never taken by us,
I prayed to Christ Unrisen
What is your decision?
Will you bury me?
You said your love was temporary,
Lent to me as necessary.
Paid the debt, never had a regret.
I lived in debtors’ prison.
What is my position?
Will you unchain me?
I know I was your sweet Mad Hatter,
When my wishes did not matter.
Took the prize and a ton of your lies
I pardoned your affliction,
What is your prediction?
Will you wish for me?
I walked the martyr’s crematory
Where I’ll never burn in glory.
Ground our lust till it crumbled in dust.
I prayed to God Unsightly.
Does it even slightly?
Does it matter at all?
There’s a moment on the other side of now,
When all our worries whistle past their grave,
When emptiness is filled,
Fears are blown away,
And young men never die to prove they’re brave.
I walked the martyr’s crematory
Where I’ll never burn in glory.
Ground our lust till it crumbled in dust.
I prayed to God Unsightly.
Does it even slightly?
Does it matter at all?
TOMORROW - I BLOG ABOUT THE PROCESS OF WRITING THE NEW NOVEL, THE TOURIST