Kyle Michel Sullivan's Blog: https://www.myirishnovel.com/, page 149
July 7, 2018
I'm baaaaaaaack...
For the last three weeks, I've been doing so much traveling and scrambling and financial finagling and time zone changing, it's taken me until today to begin to even understand where I am or how I got here. And it's not over; next week I'm in Oakland and the week after that, Indianapolis...well, a town outside that city. Whoever said this summer was going to be quiet put a hex on it.
But...I did get to see some places I never would have. And I hurt my right knee, not to mention pissing off my feet, by walking so damn much. It's still achy and I can't sit for long periods without getting up to stretch it out, but I did manage to lose 5 lbs this trip.
And I got to see York, epitomized by their Minster Cathedral, with its magnificent stained glass windows. But here's the fun part -- every church in the city has amazing stained glass windows. Apparently, this was a major center for that and they still have workshops for making them.
Then after a nearly 3 hour train ride there was Whitby Abbey, where Dracula came ashore and took Lucy as his first UK victim.
The ruins are on top of a hill overlooking Whitby and more than make up for the tackiness of the town. 199 steps up to a view that was almost as magnificent as the Cliffs of Moher. I could see why Bram Stoker used it for his location. Of course, it wasn't till I'd headed back to York that I heard Whitby is also famous for its fish & chips. Dammit; I was hungry for some.
I also did Jarvik, the Viking colony in the middle of York. It was flooded out a couple years back when the River Ouse had one of her annual fits, so what I saw was all new and fascinating. A day in the life of a Viking village from 1000 years ago.
But then, I also got screwed over by 2 of 3 Hilton hotels I was staying in, something I'm still trying to sort out. I only stayed there because Mary Jane is an honors member and gets points, but they were supposed to be paid for on her credit card and the M-Fkers wouldn't do it. I had to use my own and I'm not sure I got the same deal on the rate, or that she got the points. I'll have to check that, on Monday.
What was worse was, I got very little done on Place of Safety. You'd think during a 10 day trip to the UK I'd have had time to just sit and think. Instead, all I got was a few notes and a slight reworking of a section I'd already written but had a new idea for. Still, that little bit of space let me contemplate aspects of the story...and I could see I was slipping into a too one-sided vision of a few people.
Like Brendan's father. He's a violent, selfish brute...and that is way too black and white for this to work. I mean, it's somewhat understandable because Brendan's ten when the man is killed, so he does see things in more simplistic terms. But he's not incapable of realizing there was more to the man than just his drinking and his fists...and I was ignoring that aspect of him.
I want people in my book, not characters.
But...I did get to see some places I never would have. And I hurt my right knee, not to mention pissing off my feet, by walking so damn much. It's still achy and I can't sit for long periods without getting up to stretch it out, but I did manage to lose 5 lbs this trip.
And I got to see York, epitomized by their Minster Cathedral, with its magnificent stained glass windows. But here's the fun part -- every church in the city has amazing stained glass windows. Apparently, this was a major center for that and they still have workshops for making them.
Then after a nearly 3 hour train ride there was Whitby Abbey, where Dracula came ashore and took Lucy as his first UK victim.The ruins are on top of a hill overlooking Whitby and more than make up for the tackiness of the town. 199 steps up to a view that was almost as magnificent as the Cliffs of Moher. I could see why Bram Stoker used it for his location. Of course, it wasn't till I'd headed back to York that I heard Whitby is also famous for its fish & chips. Dammit; I was hungry for some.
I also did Jarvik, the Viking colony in the middle of York. It was flooded out a couple years back when the River Ouse had one of her annual fits, so what I saw was all new and fascinating. A day in the life of a Viking village from 1000 years ago.But then, I also got screwed over by 2 of 3 Hilton hotels I was staying in, something I'm still trying to sort out. I only stayed there because Mary Jane is an honors member and gets points, but they were supposed to be paid for on her credit card and the M-Fkers wouldn't do it. I had to use my own and I'm not sure I got the same deal on the rate, or that she got the points. I'll have to check that, on Monday.
What was worse was, I got very little done on Place of Safety. You'd think during a 10 day trip to the UK I'd have had time to just sit and think. Instead, all I got was a few notes and a slight reworking of a section I'd already written but had a new idea for. Still, that little bit of space let me contemplate aspects of the story...and I could see I was slipping into a too one-sided vision of a few people.
Like Brendan's father. He's a violent, selfish brute...and that is way too black and white for this to work. I mean, it's somewhat understandable because Brendan's ten when the man is killed, so he does see things in more simplistic terms. But he's not incapable of realizing there was more to the man than just his drinking and his fists...and I was ignoring that aspect of him.
I want people in my book, not characters.
June 24, 2018
Chicago...
Driving back from dropping off my first shipment, yesterday, I took a moment to find a nice spot on Lakeshore Drive to get a photo of downtown Chicago. It wasn't easy. Seems Saturdays in the summer are for all sorts of events where the parking costs $25 and roads are blocked (but no one told Siri, this) and you can only turn left, not right (legally). I think I used a good quarter tank trying to get around that was not going to be got around...until I got around it, but that moment turned into a good 2 hours.This has been too tightly-scheduled a set of jobs for me to do any real exploring of the town. I flew in on Friday morning, picked up my first job, spent the rest of the day in my room packing it, then dropped it off before noon to make its flight. After that, I built boxes for today's job...and yes, I was working on a Sunday. It's the only way we could schedule it in.
This was a higher-end rush-rush job so I also had to pack more carefully...meaning I also built the boxes to be much sturdier...and did even more on-site, especially since the client suddenly included a flat piece I wasn't expecting. I think I protected it...but you never know till it's at its new home.
So right now I'm beat. I did some reading for PS but that was a mistake, because it led me into thinking I'm out of my mind trying to write a book set in a part of the world I've only barely visited. This guy's referencing all the people he knew who lived on Nailors Row and Friel Terrace andI'm so damned unsure about this, now, I think I better hold off for a few days to get past it.
But talk about biting off more than you can chew...
June 22, 2018
Another fight with Brendan...
Actually more of a serious disagreement. I don't like repeating actions. My weakest scripts were those where I had the characters doing the same thing more than once, just to get through the story. But there are moments of repetition in Place of Safety and I want to avoid it but the actions are too damn important so I'm worried they will look like lazy writing. And that is the last thing I want in this book.
But...they do advance the story. And Brendan is insistent they happen when they happen in the way they happen, so I'm fighting like crazy to figure out how to make them dissimilar while still being similar...if that's even possible. And right now, I don't think it is.
Something else I have to keep in mind is, as horrible as The Troubles were, they did not affect a large part of the population of Derry. Yes, lots of people were killed and probably everyone knew someone who'd been burned out of a job or lost a relative or friend to a bomb or sectarian murder, but there was a lot of There but for the grace of God go I kind of thinking, too. And the farther away you were from the city center, the more likely it was you wouldn't be touched.
I'm not sure if that would figure into the story...or even how. Brendan's first love, Joanna, comes from a background of middle-class Protestant privilege so doesn't see the world in the same way as Brendan. She can't. Hell, he doesn't even see the world the same way his brother, Eamonn, does, and he's only six years younger and raised under the same conditions. He's an anomaly in his little section of life, which causes him a lot of conflict with his mother and even his friends, at times.
But is it so important to have that many viewpoints in a story being told in first person by one particular boy as he grows into a man? Is that too wide a net to cast in order to make the points I know need making? Or am I worrying too much about nothing?
Brendan thinks I'm an idiot to even consider thinking about this, now...and he's right. I'll be rewriting the story for some time in order to find its purest essence, and I think, for some stupid reason, worrying about this now means I won't have to deal with it later. Must be the anal side of me forcing its way forth in an attempt to hijack my forward movement.
Or...is it a new character?
But...they do advance the story. And Brendan is insistent they happen when they happen in the way they happen, so I'm fighting like crazy to figure out how to make them dissimilar while still being similar...if that's even possible. And right now, I don't think it is.
Something else I have to keep in mind is, as horrible as The Troubles were, they did not affect a large part of the population of Derry. Yes, lots of people were killed and probably everyone knew someone who'd been burned out of a job or lost a relative or friend to a bomb or sectarian murder, but there was a lot of There but for the grace of God go I kind of thinking, too. And the farther away you were from the city center, the more likely it was you wouldn't be touched.
I'm not sure if that would figure into the story...or even how. Brendan's first love, Joanna, comes from a background of middle-class Protestant privilege so doesn't see the world in the same way as Brendan. She can't. Hell, he doesn't even see the world the same way his brother, Eamonn, does, and he's only six years younger and raised under the same conditions. He's an anomaly in his little section of life, which causes him a lot of conflict with his mother and even his friends, at times.
But is it so important to have that many viewpoints in a story being told in first person by one particular boy as he grows into a man? Is that too wide a net to cast in order to make the points I know need making? Or am I worrying too much about nothing?
Brendan thinks I'm an idiot to even consider thinking about this, now...and he's right. I'll be rewriting the story for some time in order to find its purest essence, and I think, for some stupid reason, worrying about this now means I won't have to deal with it later. Must be the anal side of me forcing its way forth in an attempt to hijack my forward movement.
Or...is it a new character?
June 21, 2018
Weird day...
Sometimes I think the only reason I'm still alive is because of all the characters who've come to visit me, in my head. Knocking gently and asking me to tell their story. Keeping me focused on them instead of my own selfish objections to this world. Some were gentle, some were harsh, some were fun, some were difficult, but all came and turned me away from building too much of a hate against humanity...or letting the animal in me take over.
It's odd to think I can be animalistic...but I've caught glimpses that could easily have become the defining factor in my world. I speak in a couple of my books about a beast inside that invades you and becomes your drug...and I know that came from me and my own creature. I use a wolf as my avatar on Facebook not because it looks cool but because it's what I almost became -- a hunter-killer out for itself.
With Curt in HTRASG, he saw himself as a lion prowling the streets...but he was really a jackal. With Alec in PM, a panther took over after he was gay-bashed and led him into committing some serious crimes. And in RIHC6, Antony talks about how complete control of someone else can be a drug that you feed upon and grows more and more demanding. He even seduces Matthew, an innocent...for the most part...into understanding it, and nearly joining him in it. The only reason Antony doesn't go deeper with it is Jake, who's in control of himself and is able to pull him back.
My scripts always tended to be careful. I tried to be as honest as I could with them, but I skirted the reality of the characters much more in them than in my books. I wanted them to sell...but wound up no selling them, anyway. That's a good aspect to my screenwriting failure -- it helped me see that you can't work for others when being creative; you can only work for yourself.
Of course, I also started writing books when I was adult enough to know that all people have a beast inside them. Every one of us. Some have it under control. Others do not...and this hideous exercise in tearing children away from families has brought home just how easy it is for that thing to take over. I've referenced it, before, and discussed it and pointed it out...but it's still unsettling to see it in true action. It makes you wonder about the whole idea of evil being banal when, in truth, it's cold and cruel and vicious and simple. And joyous to those who now wallow in it.
So is this what it's all about, Brendan? Is this why we've taken so long to build your story? No comparisons to Nazi Germany are needed to put across your point. No genocides in Armenia or North America. Just a simple brutal truth that too many men do not want to live in a decent society, but prefer the jungle to civilization. And always have. And always will.
And that motherfucking son-of-a-bitch in the White House is the epitome of that attitude.
It's odd to think I can be animalistic...but I've caught glimpses that could easily have become the defining factor in my world. I speak in a couple of my books about a beast inside that invades you and becomes your drug...and I know that came from me and my own creature. I use a wolf as my avatar on Facebook not because it looks cool but because it's what I almost became -- a hunter-killer out for itself.
With Curt in HTRASG, he saw himself as a lion prowling the streets...but he was really a jackal. With Alec in PM, a panther took over after he was gay-bashed and led him into committing some serious crimes. And in RIHC6, Antony talks about how complete control of someone else can be a drug that you feed upon and grows more and more demanding. He even seduces Matthew, an innocent...for the most part...into understanding it, and nearly joining him in it. The only reason Antony doesn't go deeper with it is Jake, who's in control of himself and is able to pull him back.
My scripts always tended to be careful. I tried to be as honest as I could with them, but I skirted the reality of the characters much more in them than in my books. I wanted them to sell...but wound up no selling them, anyway. That's a good aspect to my screenwriting failure -- it helped me see that you can't work for others when being creative; you can only work for yourself.
Of course, I also started writing books when I was adult enough to know that all people have a beast inside them. Every one of us. Some have it under control. Others do not...and this hideous exercise in tearing children away from families has brought home just how easy it is for that thing to take over. I've referenced it, before, and discussed it and pointed it out...but it's still unsettling to see it in true action. It makes you wonder about the whole idea of evil being banal when, in truth, it's cold and cruel and vicious and simple. And joyous to those who now wallow in it.
So is this what it's all about, Brendan? Is this why we've taken so long to build your story? No comparisons to Nazi Germany are needed to put across your point. No genocides in Armenia or North America. Just a simple brutal truth that too many men do not want to live in a decent society, but prefer the jungle to civilization. And always have. And always will.
And that motherfucking son-of-a-bitch in the White House is the epitome of that attitude.
June 20, 2018
Maybe not so bad...
Doesn't look like a full five weeks coming up. We sent off a quote to one last-minute job that has to be done now-now-now...and catalogued, by the way, as you pack, something we may not have mentioned until today (which they didn't)...but I doubt they'll go for it. I halfway think they were just shopping around for a deal and I wasn't in the mood to give one. So there it stands.
Another job I thought was settled may not be; the client hasn't actually agreed to it, yet. They talk like they have, but no official OK has been forthcoming...and there's a sneaking suspicion they're trying to fish information from us on how to do this then go off and do it for themselves, cutting us out. Which would be cheap-assed, cheesy and stupid, but some people are.
So I spent the rest of the day finalizing the 4 jobs I do have and making sure I have the paperwork needed for them. Then I spent half of this evening howling on Facebook and Twitter about the GOP and their diseased actions towards immigrants seeking asylum...tearing children away from their parents and putting them in concentration camps. It's horrific how many so-called Americans think this is fine and good. Sickening.
I've been using this quote from the King James Bible against these people, who claim to be Christians; it's Matthew 25:31-45 (emphasis added):
31 When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory:
32 And before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats:
33 And he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left.
34 Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:
35 For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in:
36 Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.
37 Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink?
38 When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee?
39 Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?
40 And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.
41 Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels:
42 For I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink:
43 I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not.
44 Then shall they also answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee?
45 Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me.
I've read the Bible from cover to cover. I'm not a scholar, but I know it well enough to call hypocrisy on those who wrap themselves in it to excuse their hate, fear and prejudice, and the Republican party is the epitome of this. That anyone supports their diseased actions shows how depraved some people can become.
It's times like this I wish I believed in hell so I know they'd burn in it.
Another job I thought was settled may not be; the client hasn't actually agreed to it, yet. They talk like they have, but no official OK has been forthcoming...and there's a sneaking suspicion they're trying to fish information from us on how to do this then go off and do it for themselves, cutting us out. Which would be cheap-assed, cheesy and stupid, but some people are.
So I spent the rest of the day finalizing the 4 jobs I do have and making sure I have the paperwork needed for them. Then I spent half of this evening howling on Facebook and Twitter about the GOP and their diseased actions towards immigrants seeking asylum...tearing children away from their parents and putting them in concentration camps. It's horrific how many so-called Americans think this is fine and good. Sickening.
I've been using this quote from the King James Bible against these people, who claim to be Christians; it's Matthew 25:31-45 (emphasis added):
31 When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory:
32 And before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats:
33 And he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left.
34 Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:
35 For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in:
36 Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.
37 Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink?
38 When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee?
39 Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?
40 And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.
41 Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels:
42 For I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink:
43 I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not.
44 Then shall they also answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee?
45 Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me.
I've read the Bible from cover to cover. I'm not a scholar, but I know it well enough to call hypocrisy on those who wrap themselves in it to excuse their hate, fear and prejudice, and the Republican party is the epitome of this. That anyone supports their diseased actions shows how depraved some people can become.
It's times like this I wish I believed in hell so I know they'd burn in it.
June 19, 2018
Well...that's life...
In three days I may leave for what could easily turn into another 5 week stretch of work, from Chicago to London to York to New York City to Oakland to Indianapolis. I'm torn between liking the fact that I've got lots to do and wondering how I'll be able to work on PS...which is nonsense. I have my laptop. I've got lots of info in a folder on it. I can keep working.
In fact, I could sort through a lot of the files I have on PS, trying to find some I was sure I'd written but cannot seem to locate. I may take some old thumb drives with me, as well, just to check. Oh, it's been fun trying to keep track of what's happening with me...but it does sort of feed into how Brendan feels when he's in Houston and then back to Derry. He hasn't a clue as to the reality of the US and makes mistakes that hurt him -- like winding up involved with a black girl in a town that had one of the biggest chapters of the KKK in it. It may still; I don't know, for sure.
He's also going to be into drugs and drinking and all sorts of things. The 70s were pretty wide open when it came to a lot of lifestyles and choices and experimentation. We'd just finished a war that took more than 50,000 American lives and probably a million Vietnamese, so we were being very hedonistic. Life's short so have fun was the main attitude.
Of course, that ushered in Reagan and the immorally moral majority, who set about crushing any kind of joy...and AIDS, which was assigned to the gay community but was mainly a straight disease around the world...but that's after Brendan's story concludes, so I don't have to worry about it. He leaves the US shortly after Reagan's inaugurated...only to face a community that was in chaos, when he left, but had been climbing out of it...slowly...slowly...until the hunger strikes send it crashing back in. Years of peace work undone by a group of fanatics.
I think the older I get the more I realize how stupid, short-sighted and selfish most people are. We don't learn from our mistakes. We want to live in the past without knowing what it really was. And we fear the future because we know how bad it can be. It's amazing we haven't extincted ourselves long before this. Now we're in a nation where nearly 30% of the population is scared of brown babies and has no problem tearing them away from their parents and locking them into cages, as if they're all the reincarnation of Chucky. It's so fucking stupid.
Have they forgotten -- Cages can't hold Chucky...
In fact, I could sort through a lot of the files I have on PS, trying to find some I was sure I'd written but cannot seem to locate. I may take some old thumb drives with me, as well, just to check. Oh, it's been fun trying to keep track of what's happening with me...but it does sort of feed into how Brendan feels when he's in Houston and then back to Derry. He hasn't a clue as to the reality of the US and makes mistakes that hurt him -- like winding up involved with a black girl in a town that had one of the biggest chapters of the KKK in it. It may still; I don't know, for sure.
He's also going to be into drugs and drinking and all sorts of things. The 70s were pretty wide open when it came to a lot of lifestyles and choices and experimentation. We'd just finished a war that took more than 50,000 American lives and probably a million Vietnamese, so we were being very hedonistic. Life's short so have fun was the main attitude.
Of course, that ushered in Reagan and the immorally moral majority, who set about crushing any kind of joy...and AIDS, which was assigned to the gay community but was mainly a straight disease around the world...but that's after Brendan's story concludes, so I don't have to worry about it. He leaves the US shortly after Reagan's inaugurated...only to face a community that was in chaos, when he left, but had been climbing out of it...slowly...slowly...until the hunger strikes send it crashing back in. Years of peace work undone by a group of fanatics.
I think the older I get the more I realize how stupid, short-sighted and selfish most people are. We don't learn from our mistakes. We want to live in the past without knowing what it really was. And we fear the future because we know how bad it can be. It's amazing we haven't extincted ourselves long before this. Now we're in a nation where nearly 30% of the population is scared of brown babies and has no problem tearing them away from their parents and locking them into cages, as if they're all the reincarnation of Chucky. It's so fucking stupid.
Have they forgotten -- Cages can't hold Chucky...
June 18, 2018
Old words...
I have 3 big green ring-binders filled with printouts from earlier writing I did on Place of Safety, so I read through those, tonight, to see just what I'd once thought and see if I'd written in ideas that could still be used. Man, I did a lot of jumping around. I'd also inserted handwritten pages to indicate what still needed to be written. And I can see how the story's already begun to shift in shape and meaning from my initial work.
And how it hasn't. How the basis for the book was there from the beginning. My earlier work is simple...more like place-holding to give me time to pull the full spine together...but some parts are still brutal and warm. Overwritten because I'm exploring what needs to be there, yet easily readable and flowing. For as long as it goes.
I've also added chapters since these were written, like a secret meeting between Brendan and Colm at the circle fort after Brendan's returned to Derry and been beaten, and the manner in which another character comes back from the dead. But that's how it should be. I've got the known vertebrae lined up; what's left is inserting the remaining bones to finalize the spine.
I do think Brendan natters on a bit...but I'm not sure that's bad. He's telling the story and giving his impressions of everything that happens...his interpretations. Sometimes, they aren't correct and the action shows this. Other times, they're too precise and on-the-nose, which I don't like but can be corrected. And other times he talks of details that someone like him wouldn't even think of mentioning...which I may cut out and which may work out well for me, since I'm not from that part of the world.
But still, the honesty of his voice keeps moving through everything. The reality of his world gives him foundation for his thoughts. The truths he's forced to face show him lies surround him...as does love...
He's going to be a difficult contradictory character, our Brendan, and I hope he is accepted for it.
And how it hasn't. How the basis for the book was there from the beginning. My earlier work is simple...more like place-holding to give me time to pull the full spine together...but some parts are still brutal and warm. Overwritten because I'm exploring what needs to be there, yet easily readable and flowing. For as long as it goes.
I've also added chapters since these were written, like a secret meeting between Brendan and Colm at the circle fort after Brendan's returned to Derry and been beaten, and the manner in which another character comes back from the dead. But that's how it should be. I've got the known vertebrae lined up; what's left is inserting the remaining bones to finalize the spine.
I do think Brendan natters on a bit...but I'm not sure that's bad. He's telling the story and giving his impressions of everything that happens...his interpretations. Sometimes, they aren't correct and the action shows this. Other times, they're too precise and on-the-nose, which I don't like but can be corrected. And other times he talks of details that someone like him wouldn't even think of mentioning...which I may cut out and which may work out well for me, since I'm not from that part of the world.
But still, the honesty of his voice keeps moving through everything. The reality of his world gives him foundation for his thoughts. The truths he's forced to face show him lies surround him...as does love...
He's going to be a difficult contradictory character, our Brendan, and I hope he is accepted for it.
June 17, 2018
Today is my last nothing day...
All I did, today, was laundry and cooking meals...well, I also sent out 9 post cards to politicians about the hideous situation where ICE is ripping children away from their parents because they dared to come here seeking asylum. I sent post cards because they're harder to ignore than letters or emails, and I used Norman Rockwell's Southern Justice to send home the message -- that the right wing is taking us back to a time when people got killed just for registering others to vote.
I sent one to Jeff Sessions, since he apparently approves of this shit. Paul Ryan and Mitch McConnell are too full of their hypocrisy to give a damn, but they got one, as well...as did Czar Snowflake, his chief ass-kisser-Pence and Sarah Huckabee Sanders along with Nancy Pelosi and Chuck Schumer for not doing enough to end this.
But it's come to me that I have a lot of things I need to do and I'm wasting too damn much time on the internet just coasting. Doing nothing but wandering. It's not acceptable. I have not only Place of Safety to write but I want to rework the Cowboy King of Texas into a romantic-comedy novel, and Carli's Kills and Blood Angel into erotic horror and even do 5 Dates as a YA novel.
But what really brought it home is Imagine Dragons. They wrote a powerhouse song -- Demons -- that yanks me into an old script/play/rock musical I was going to write based on Aristophanes' The Birds.
Set in the future, it involves cyber-punks fighting against the overlord who own the internet. Two men from the overlords find them, wanting to escape the rigid enforcement of their life. One's straight, one's gay...even though his DNA was supposedly adjusted in the womb so he would come out straight...but didn't work. His name is Arden, and he is tortured by how he's been treated by his world. One of the punks, Olney, falls for him...and this could have been their duet as Olney fights to get Arden to see things will be all right if he lets himself love and be loved...
Olney:
When the days are cold
And the cards all fold
And the saints we see
Are all made of gold
When your dreams all fail
And the ones we hail
Are the worst of all
And the blood’s run stale
ArdenI want to hide the truthOlneyI want to shelter you
ArdenBut with the beast inside
There’s nowhere we can hide
No matter what we breed
We still are made of greed
This is my kingdom come
OlneyThis is my kingdom come
When you feel my heat
ArdenLook into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
Olney
It’s dark inside
Arden
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
OlneyWhen the curtain’s call
Is the last of all
When the lights fade out
All the sinners crawl
So they dug your grave
And the masquerade
Will come calling out
At the mess you made
ArdenDon’t want to let you down
But I am hell bound
Though this is all for you
Don’t want to hide the truth
No matter what we breed
We still are made of greed
Olney and ArdenThis is my kingdom come
This is my kingdom come
OlneyWhen you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
Arden
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
OlneyIt’s dark inside
ArdenIt’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
OlneyThey say it's what you make
I say it's up to fate
ArdenIt's woven in my soul
I need to let you go
OlneyYour eyes, they shine so bright
I want to save their light
ArdenI can't escape this now
Unless you show me how
Arden and OlneyWhen you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
It’s dark inside
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hideMy plan was to use this (and some songs by Muse) as a template to write the play, with this as the end of act 1. Grandiose, true, since I can't write music...but dammit...I want it to be done...
So, Kyle, stop wasting time and start asking yourself, Why the hell not?
I sent one to Jeff Sessions, since he apparently approves of this shit. Paul Ryan and Mitch McConnell are too full of their hypocrisy to give a damn, but they got one, as well...as did Czar Snowflake, his chief ass-kisser-Pence and Sarah Huckabee Sanders along with Nancy Pelosi and Chuck Schumer for not doing enough to end this.But it's come to me that I have a lot of things I need to do and I'm wasting too damn much time on the internet just coasting. Doing nothing but wandering. It's not acceptable. I have not only Place of Safety to write but I want to rework the Cowboy King of Texas into a romantic-comedy novel, and Carli's Kills and Blood Angel into erotic horror and even do 5 Dates as a YA novel.
But what really brought it home is Imagine Dragons. They wrote a powerhouse song -- Demons -- that yanks me into an old script/play/rock musical I was going to write based on Aristophanes' The Birds.
Set in the future, it involves cyber-punks fighting against the overlord who own the internet. Two men from the overlords find them, wanting to escape the rigid enforcement of their life. One's straight, one's gay...even though his DNA was supposedly adjusted in the womb so he would come out straight...but didn't work. His name is Arden, and he is tortured by how he's been treated by his world. One of the punks, Olney, falls for him...and this could have been their duet as Olney fights to get Arden to see things will be all right if he lets himself love and be loved...
Olney:
When the days are cold
And the cards all fold
And the saints we see
Are all made of gold
When your dreams all fail
And the ones we hail
Are the worst of all
And the blood’s run stale
ArdenI want to hide the truthOlneyI want to shelter you
ArdenBut with the beast inside
There’s nowhere we can hide
No matter what we breed
We still are made of greed
This is my kingdom come
OlneyThis is my kingdom come
When you feel my heat
ArdenLook into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
Olney
It’s dark inside
Arden
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
OlneyWhen the curtain’s call
Is the last of all
When the lights fade out
All the sinners crawl
So they dug your grave
And the masquerade
Will come calling out
At the mess you made
ArdenDon’t want to let you down
But I am hell bound
Though this is all for you
Don’t want to hide the truth
No matter what we breed
We still are made of greed
Olney and ArdenThis is my kingdom come
This is my kingdom come
OlneyWhen you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
Arden
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
OlneyIt’s dark inside
ArdenIt’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
OlneyThey say it's what you make
I say it's up to fate
ArdenIt's woven in my soul
I need to let you go
OlneyYour eyes, they shine so bright
I want to save their light
ArdenI can't escape this now
Unless you show me how
Arden and OlneyWhen you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
It’s dark inside
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hideMy plan was to use this (and some songs by Muse) as a template to write the play, with this as the end of act 1. Grandiose, true, since I can't write music...but dammit...I want it to be done...
So, Kyle, stop wasting time and start asking yourself, Why the hell not?
June 16, 2018
I know where Brendan gets his pack-rattiness...
Cleaning my desk has shown me I'm a ludicrous pack-rat. I found nubs of pencils and dirty paperclips and a fountain pen whose reservoir had burst -- when I opened it, some dripped onto my leg and I now have a black spot just above my knee -- and a nice layer of dust. But I can see my workspace, again.
But what this leads to is Brendan's penchant for taking things he finds that have been discarded and fixing them. Making them useful, again. I'm not sure what this means as a metaphor in the story, because so far none of that is happening, but it makes sense for him. And I think it comes from me not having bought a new piece of furniture in years.
My workspace is a card table set up next to a drawing table I've had for more than half my life. Not a real desk with drawers, and certainly not solid or completely stable. Next to it is a TV dinner table where I pile all kinds of books and papers and other shit.
An uncle of mine told me, back when I was just into my 20s, that I was always going to be a student. Nothing more. I took offense...but he was right. The thing is, it's not an offensive thing to be. I haven't closed myself off to new information or experiences...just whined a lot, but still went with it.
As I wandered along, I shifted from art to directing movies to writing screenplays to writing books. I haven't had much financial or critical success from any of it, but I feel like what I'm doing needs to be done, for me and the characters who come to me...and for all my bitching, I can't imagine not doing it.
I picked up my car from the shop, today (clutch linkage needed replacing) and stopped at a Wegman's grocery store to have lunch (NOT a good idea; it made me ill) and as I was buying some groceries for the week, I heard Imagine Dragons' It's Time...
...and this song is so tied to The Alice '65 in my head, I was imaging scenes from it. Like it was a movie. It's the song that first gave me the feel for the story. The chirpy little background chords. The vaguely dark lyrics. The build and the meaning of it. If I wasn't still a student, I think I'd have missed that. It would have been just a nice song...and not become Adam's theme, to me.
Like the Johnston's Banks of Claudy is Brendan's...and his pack-rattiness is part and parcel of that...
But what this leads to is Brendan's penchant for taking things he finds that have been discarded and fixing them. Making them useful, again. I'm not sure what this means as a metaphor in the story, because so far none of that is happening, but it makes sense for him. And I think it comes from me not having bought a new piece of furniture in years.
My workspace is a card table set up next to a drawing table I've had for more than half my life. Not a real desk with drawers, and certainly not solid or completely stable. Next to it is a TV dinner table where I pile all kinds of books and papers and other shit.
An uncle of mine told me, back when I was just into my 20s, that I was always going to be a student. Nothing more. I took offense...but he was right. The thing is, it's not an offensive thing to be. I haven't closed myself off to new information or experiences...just whined a lot, but still went with it.
As I wandered along, I shifted from art to directing movies to writing screenplays to writing books. I haven't had much financial or critical success from any of it, but I feel like what I'm doing needs to be done, for me and the characters who come to me...and for all my bitching, I can't imagine not doing it.
I picked up my car from the shop, today (clutch linkage needed replacing) and stopped at a Wegman's grocery store to have lunch (NOT a good idea; it made me ill) and as I was buying some groceries for the week, I heard Imagine Dragons' It's Time...
...and this song is so tied to The Alice '65 in my head, I was imaging scenes from it. Like it was a movie. It's the song that first gave me the feel for the story. The chirpy little background chords. The vaguely dark lyrics. The build and the meaning of it. If I wasn't still a student, I think I'd have missed that. It would have been just a nice song...and not become Adam's theme, to me.
Like the Johnston's Banks of Claudy is Brendan's...and his pack-rattiness is part and parcel of that...
June 15, 2018
I may be done with prepping A65...
I got the pdf proof for A65 and it looked good, so I set up to get a hardcopy and arranged for the book to be available next Friday, the 22nd. Then all I need to do is figure out some way to promote it that doesn't take an arm and a leg in cost.
I spent a bit of money to get it placed at a recent librarians' conference in NYC, at the end of May...in hardcover. I know it was there; here's a photo. It stands out, too. But so far as I can tell, no one picked it up or even considered it. But...it's only been 2 weeks; let's see if anything more happens.
I'm cleaning my work space, tomorrow, and getting myself into a semblance of order. I want to make better use of my time and focus, and digging through all this crap to find things is nonsense. I also plan to start working at least once a week with an organization that's fighting the diseased actions of ICE as regards people crossing the border into the US without permission. Tearing children away from their parents is vile and satanic, in practice, and I can't just snarl about it on Facebook, Twitter and the comments sections of articles I read. It has to be faced down, now. This is what the Gestapo did to Jews in concentration camps, and I'll be damned if I sit quietly while they start that shit here.
My one problem with doing this is the amount I travel. It's hard to work in a steady schedule of any form of volunteer or political work. The last campaign I worked on for a long period was Ann Richards for Governor of Texas, against Clayton Williams...which she won. I was working at Sam Houston Books and would go in, twice a week, to make lawn signs and stuff envelopes. No phone calls; I suck at that. No door-to-door, either. But grunt work like this, I can do without issue.
But something has to be done about the evil being perpetrated by the GOP...and I don't care if people "don't agree with all of their policies," if you support that criminal organization in any way, you support everything they do. Even tacitly.
And you should be ashamed.
I spent a bit of money to get it placed at a recent librarians' conference in NYC, at the end of May...in hardcover. I know it was there; here's a photo. It stands out, too. But so far as I can tell, no one picked it up or even considered it. But...it's only been 2 weeks; let's see if anything more happens.I'm cleaning my work space, tomorrow, and getting myself into a semblance of order. I want to make better use of my time and focus, and digging through all this crap to find things is nonsense. I also plan to start working at least once a week with an organization that's fighting the diseased actions of ICE as regards people crossing the border into the US without permission. Tearing children away from their parents is vile and satanic, in practice, and I can't just snarl about it on Facebook, Twitter and the comments sections of articles I read. It has to be faced down, now. This is what the Gestapo did to Jews in concentration camps, and I'll be damned if I sit quietly while they start that shit here.
My one problem with doing this is the amount I travel. It's hard to work in a steady schedule of any form of volunteer or political work. The last campaign I worked on for a long period was Ann Richards for Governor of Texas, against Clayton Williams...which she won. I was working at Sam Houston Books and would go in, twice a week, to make lawn signs and stuff envelopes. No phone calls; I suck at that. No door-to-door, either. But grunt work like this, I can do without issue.
But something has to be done about the evil being perpetrated by the GOP...and I don't care if people "don't agree with all of their policies," if you support that criminal organization in any way, you support everything they do. Even tacitly.
And you should be ashamed.
