Kyle Michel Sullivan's Blog: https://www.myirishnovel.com/, page 132

I wonder why I write some things...

There's an aspect of APoS that troubles me, but it's insistent on being part of the story. Brendan is befriended by a gay man after he and his cousin, Scott, sneak into a gay bar in Houston. They're underage and Brendan's taken aback by it all. It's not long after he's emerged from his catatonic state and he's still a virgin in all aspects of sex. The gay man, Everett, helps him after Scott gets too drunk to drive, and winds up almost treating him like a son.

Everett starts out as sympathetic and gets involved with a friend of Brendan's and Scott's,  Jeremy. Overall I present them sympathetically...but when John Wayne Gacy's murders are revealed in Chicago, Everett becomes fixated on them. He's having a personal crisis and exhibiting signs of illness, plus he and Jeremy have broken up over his growing obsession with not only Gacy but Dean Corll. It's spooking everyone.

When Brendan leaves Houston to return to Derry, Everett helps him but comes close to doing something wrong and only barely holds himself back. It's like he's going through an emotional or mental breakdown...but I don't want him to be seen as emblematic of what gay men are. Yet he's damn well insisting this be his character arc. Shit.

I have Jeremy as the counterpoint -- a nice Jewish kid who's in the closet at work but out to his friends. Who's on the fast track at the oil company he works for. Who's built a relationship with a Cajun Army Sergeant thanks to Brendan being involved with the soldier's sister. So maybe that's enough to keep a balance...

But it bugs me...and this is one of those instances where I don't understand why Everett's character wants his story to play this way. Unless it's to illustrate the destructiveness of forcing people to hide who they are. At this time, it was still illegal in Texas for anyone other than a married man and woman to have sex, and then only in the Missionary position. Everything else was considered sodomy and that could get you sent to jail. The law was rarely enforced, but it was there ready and willing. It wasn't made to apply to just gay men until 1986.

I guess I'll let it play, for now, and see where it takes me...but I wish this wasn't part of the ride.

APoS...

I've been using a facebook page called Derry of the Past to help build a sense of what the town was like when Brendan lived there and how it is when he returns. There are videos and photographs galore, but what's best is all the comments from people who lived there...who recognize places long since redeveloped out of existence...helping center me around the town. It's going slowly but bit by bit I'm getting a feel for what is where.

It's also helping me gain a better sense of how people talk, there. The slang and rhythms of their speech. There are some things I can't do, like let the kids call their mothers Mammy, as so many did and still do in that area. That word's connotations in the US are too poisoned. Besides, Ma is acceptable as commonplace. They also speak of shops and locations that I haven't gotten for books.

And I had a friend of mine, Brad Rushing, turn me on to the Facebook page of a woman who lives in Belfast and went through the Troubles in real time. She talks about being searched when going into shops and into the city center and across the border. Her comments are in response the coming catastrophe of Brexit, comparing how the border was back before the Good Friday Accord and how it is now...and how they do NOT want to go back to a hard border between Northern and Southern Ireland.

It makes some aspects of the story I want to tell a bit more difficult to work out, but overall what I have so far is pretty close to the reality of the time, just a bit too bright and optimistic.

I'm working on that.

Lost weekend...

I'm not sure what's going on inside me, but I did absolutely nothing on APoS, this weekend. I don't know why; I was just...completely unmotivated. Couldn't even get started reading on any of the books I have for it.

Next weekend's going to be pretty much a bust, as well, since I'm headed down to Miami for the Map Fair. And the weekend of the 16th I'm flying to the UK for a packing job. Sheesh...I'll be doing dibs and drabs on the story after work, every day, as much as I can...and that ain't much.

I hate it when I get like this...all full of ennui and apathy and shit. It's absurd...and yet, as an artist I'm sure it's the normal ebbs and flows of live's creative juices lost in the neverending ethernet of existence.

I should use that comment somewhere, it's so silly.

I did finally finish working up another website for my adult material...and by adult I mean not suitable for under 18. Hell, considering how insane people are getting, these days, it may also not be suitable for anyone over the age of forty. So damn many people seem to think it's their right to force their version of morality down your throat.

I'm still getting notices from Tumblr about "adult content" on my thread, there. I've gotten to where I ask for a review just to be an asshole. Rub their noses in it. For all the good that'll do. It's only for a few more days. I've been in contact with the people whose work I like -- like PickedAPeck's and ZanVarin's and WereOrc's artwork -- and let them know. And I can check two of them out on Deviant Art. I'm sorry to lose the close contact but it's that or kiss Tumblr's ass...

Tonight I watched the SAG Awards as I ironed. I haven't seen a one of the shows that won...or even were nominated. It was just fun watching the congratulatory comments going around and remembering that the first SAG Awards was only 25 years ago...about the time I moved to LA.

I had hopes and wishes and dreams, then.

Odd moments in my head...

I can get images caught in my mind without conscious effort...and sometimes they pop up for no particular reason...maybe just to nudge me towards some idea or other. But just a moment ago I remembered a beautifully composed shot from 1934's The Scarlet Pimpernel. It stars Leslie Howard and Merl Oberon and really isn't very good; it meanders and some very important scenes happen off-screen, violating all the rules of storytelling.

It's set during the worst of the French Revolution, as anyone who even seemed to support the aristocracy was being guillotined. A number of people are awaiting their fate, something presaged by a man appearing at the door and calling out a few names. In the middle of all this is a beautifully dressed woman calmly reading a book as if in a sitting room, her image like that of a painting by Gainsborough...until her name is called. She calmly slips in a bookmark to keep her place as if she's going to return and finish it...then heads off to her death.

I think this is what gave me the idea to jolt Devlin into finally feeling empathy for the fate of another human being he didn't even know, in Underground Guy. Liam Hanlon, one of the killer's victims, has been dead for weeks when Devlin finally sees a video of him exiting a tube station in London and happily popping some gum in his mouth, just like Devlin had done a thousand times when en route to an important meeting. But Devlin knows he's heading to his death...and he connects with the doomed man and it shatters him.

There are other images I get caught up in, sometimes...images that might be silently influencing me in my storytelling. I almost think the moment when Jamie, in Empire of the Sun, stands by an airfield in China near the end of WW2, watching Kamikaze pilots prepare to take off, and begins to sing a Latin hymn in honor of the young man about to die is influencing me with Brendan, in a way. Jaime's a prisoner of war, cut off from his parents, his childhood destroyed but not his sense of honor and respect.

Brendan is caught in a similar whirlpool slowly dragging him down to who knows what as he fights to keep his sense of self...his equilibrium...while his world devolves into chaos. It's like evil dances around him, hinting at what's to come but not taking the final step to try and crush him until he decides to leave it. Then, like a jealous possessive lover, it crushes him.

I still don't know exactly what it is I'm trying to say with this book. I may never know. Hell, I'm not even sure what style it will take...what form...because it's not sitting quiet within me, anymore. It's searching and pushing and wondering and wandering and testing...

...and waiting for me to finish the foundation so we can begin the act of building...

Why You Should Read Bad Books...

I stole this from Books & Such Literary Management's blog...and it's still true...

Blogger: Janet Kobobel Grant
While we readers are constantly on the hunt for the penultimate book that satisfies to the core, we spend a lot of time reading books of a lesser nature. I wonder if we’re garnering as much benefit from such books as we could.

The book club I’m a part of has taught me that sometimes books I think I won’t like surprise me. I’ll stick with a book longer if it’s a club pick out of loyalty to the club as well as because I feel a responsibility to explain to the group why I didn’t like the book. I contend you should read bad books to learn good writing techniques.

Taking the time to think about why you would label a book as bad can offer insights into what makes a book good. You might find yourself thinking,
It was so hard to get into
There wasn’t enough dialogue
It was nothing but dialogue
I didn’t like the protagonist
The ending was disappointing
The plot was unbelievable
The research was inadequate
The writing was flat
The structure never made sense to me
It didn’t move fast enough
The middle slumped

All of these observations are your first step to benefiting from reading a book:

Step 1: Analyze what was wrong with the book.

Step 2: Ask yourself, How could the author have fixed the problem(s)?

One title we read in our book club was Gone Girl. Several members thought the ending was all wrong. Of course they didn’t like; it’s not a likeable ending.

But I asked them how they would suggest it end. They had a long list of ideas, which, we realized as we took a hard look at each one, would have been the wrong ending for this book. By the time we finished debating, everyone reluctantly agreed that the ending the author chose was just right. But we all learned a lot as we looked at the possibilities rather than just proclaiming it “wrong.”

Step 3: Apply your findings to your own writing. Might a reader end up complaining about the same flaws in your WIP that you found in the bad book?

Go through the analysis steps with your manuscript, asking yourself such questions as, Is my ending right? Why or why not? What else could it be? How are readers likely to view it? and on down through the list of possible missteps.

"The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo"

I finished the book...and while it was interesting it drove me nuts. I don't know why, but I didn't buy into the characters or story, not completely. All I wanted to know was how it turned out...and I was not impressed. Let down, actually.

Stieg Larsson had two completely different stories going, here, as if he didn't trust either one on its own. One's a mystery about the disappearance of 16 year old Harriet Vanger in 1966, more than three decades prior to when the story's set; the other is about a journalist falsely convicted of libel who fights to regain his reputation. Either one could have been a book unto itself...which they wanted to be, because they certainly didn't like being connected in what was a very weak, dubious fashion.

I think that's what really set my opinion building regarding this book -- the feeling that these two stories were quietly trapped in a structure not of their making and yet not paid enough attention to make it worth their while. Instead, there was a lot of repetition of plot points, brand name referencing, extraneous details that added nothing, and half-hearted attempts at psychological depth.

Maybe it's the translation from Swedish, but I didn't care about any of the characters, not really. Mikael Blomkvist was like a series of note tags strung together, not a person. Journalist. Ethical. Attractive to women. Trustworthy. Sexually casual. That he's also a bit stupid at times...or maybe just obtuse...I doubt was intended to be one of those note cards, but he is.

Lisbeth Salander is a cipher, not a human being. She has maybe half the number of note cards as Mikael and never really works in the story except in the typical hacker-who-can-get-any-info-you-want-at-just-the-right-time sort of Hollywood nonsense. What's more...she's a real cunt. I get why but there's nothing to temper that or make her someone you worry about.

The other characters are handled the same way, and what one character is revealed to have done actually struck me as ludicrous. I know I don't have a lot of room to make these criticisms, considering some of my work, so I may be bitching about what I fear my own work shows. I don't know. I do know I want to watch the movie specifically to see how they handled one scene where Mikael is almost killed. My feeling is, they won't do it like it is in the book.

Which means it might work.

Heading home...

Straight into 3 feet of snow, as I understand. But I'm in Atlanta waitin' on a plane and it looks like we'll be on time. Delta's doing a lot better this direction than when I was heading down to Bermuda.

I really don't like that place. It's all very casual and easy, and they don't follow any schedule but their own. I arranged to have the books picked up between 9 and 11am and got there 15 minutes early to get things ready...and they were already there. Fortunately, they hadn't knocked on the front door, yet, so I get the owner ready and we were done and gone in half an hour. That was good, at least.

Shuttle to the airport was set for 1:45 so I'm working on my laptop in the hotel waiting area and at 1:30m I'm told they're waiting on  me. In the middle of an email I had to send. Irritating. Then the flight to Atlanta left 20 minutes early. It's crazy.

I'm whining, I know, but when I'm working with a schedule and want to get a certain number of things done, having someone else mess with it throws me off. Doesn't help the resort I stayed at had nothing else around in the way of restaurants so I'm pretty much stuck eating second rate overpriced hotel food.

Bitching done. I'm not using my laptop on the flights but reading Stieg Larsson's The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo...and I was worried about repeating myself in my writing? Jesus, he notes the same details over and over and over. And this is a huge bestseller. I'm kicking back on my beef with me.

Good to know about this kind of thing.

Brendan's conversations with me...

I've settled into an interesting pattern with Brendan while working on APoS...I read, I ask questions, he gives me a yea or nay...and if I'm unsure, we discuss. The current one was me asking him if he believed in God. He's a Catholic boy raised in a household that is devoutly Catholic, but his immediate response was, "No."

Did he ever believe in God? He's not sure. He believed in the idea of him, but more by rote than faith. He points out he never became an altar boy and always kept his distance from the priests. Even at the age of 10, when kids are still caught up in the same rituals their parents follow, he's doing religion by the numbers.

The discussion evolved into how Danny, one of Brendan's best friends, was a strong believer and an altar boy and everything, but he lost it all and has been searching for something to replace the emptiness he feels. He finds it in the idea of chaos, and becomes part of PIRA in order to further that end.

Man...I love having moments like this. I feel like I'm back in touch with Brendan, completely, and we're going somewhere with the story. Not fast; I don't want to screw this up by pushing too hard. I've assigned all of this year to it so even if I do finish a first draft it'll be reworked and redone and restructured until it's good enough to actually call it a first draft.

I'm not a quick writer. I'm not good when I push too hard; I wind up going the easy route. If I let the ideas and details come to me in their own time, then I know all will be well. If I keep working on the story, I know I'll find ways to tell things that sound true and interesting.

As I packed the last of the books, today...and this was the hardest part because it included a huge Johnson's Dictionary...I thought of A65 and how much better the book is than the script I initially wrote. I pushed a bit too much on that one and what came out was surface and adequate. By digging into the story to put it into novel form, it took on a whole new life to where it's almost a completely different story.

That's my goal for APoS -- something new and alive and captivating and heartbreaking...and I don't aim for much, do I?

Rolling along...

I'm about 2/3 done with the job so should be finished early, tomorrow. There's a marathon running about the island so no idea if I can go anywhere, but we shall see.

I finished reading Peggy Deery, basically a biographical story about the one woman who was shot on Bloody Sunday...and it's a bleak book. She had 14 children before her husband died from cancer, and they lived in dire poverty...except for the times when she was able to finagle money out of the British government for compensation for things like falling in a pothole or being shot by British troops. One son got involved, off and on, with the IRA and was blown up by a bomb he planned to transport. Another died in a bar brawl days before his wedding. It's just one thing after another.

Brendan and I had an interesting conversation about this book...and he doesn't want his life to be that downbeat. Which is a funny thing for him to say. But as he points out, "If I'm living someplace that's falling down about me, I'm not going to stand around and let it." He's good with his hands and just gets down to fixing things, and if it means helping himself to materials being used for redevelopment...his justification is, "They'll throw half of it out, anyway."

I do think I'll use one of his friends...or maybe a couple of them, to contrast with him. Paidrig's family's more like Peggy Deery's as regards the poverty and a house falling down around them. Colm's the sneaky type trying to get away with something while Brendan just does things that need to be done without telling anyone he's doing them and sometimes gets credit and sometimes gets blame. Danny is anger personified and turns his hate into a force against the Protestants and British while Brendan just wants to live his own life.

The more I work on this story, the more I realize Brendan is an anomaly...and yet, it's perfectly clear that while just about everyone in Derry knew someone who'd been killed or jailed during the Troubles, the actual violence only directly touched a small number of the population.

Here's hoping I can keep this from being the kind of book that pities the poor downtrodden of Ireland from the lofty height os those not truly touched by their condition...

Ready for tomorrow...

Got my workspace set up but can't start packing till tomorrow so I hopped over to Hamilton to look around...and t's a rather bland town. Reminds me a bit of Stanley, in Hong Kong.

Especially these steps leading up from the street to...

...Queen Elizabeth Park par la ville, which was fun, with sculptures peeking out at each other.
Then there's Front Street, along the harbor...
...and the Sessions House...

But everything closes down at 5-5:30, except the bars and high-priced restaurants. And I do mean high-priced. Fast-food? Well...I did find a KFC, which I can't eat...but damn, the smell of their biscuits taunted me.

Even the bus is ridiculous -- $4.50 each way. That's nearly twice as much as the NY Subway! And I finally just hunkered down and had that $20 burger...and it was edible. Barely. And the fries were like you get from Or-Ida...

But...that's what happens when you're an island that has to import everything.