Kyle Michel Sullivan's Blog: https://www.myirishnovel.com/, page 164

Regrouping...

I had to go back an extra chapter and do some rearranging there to set up the problem one better. That took all evening, but now it's working. Devlin and Diana have dinner in a pub and talk about his situation, and he unloads on her, and she lets him know she's pissed as hell about it. She even tells him to find a psychiatrist and get help.

She also points out that he's going to jail if the situation doesn't change. The Metropolitan Police want to save face after he messed up their operation, and an American politician is gunning for him by pushing the FBI to investigate his actions in the last few years, and has put him on the No-Fly list. She's only helping him because he's her husband's brother and the best way she has to protect her husband from this mess -- is to help Dev.

This spurs Dev to action. He now sees the only way he can change the course of his life is to find the killer, and he thinks that since he's gay he might have a better insight as to what makes the guy so hate-filled. And that is what leads him to begin to think everything is too clinical in the murders. Too precise and exact. Too deliberate...leading him to wonder what's really going on. This is page 217 of the story -- 12 point Courier, double-spaced -- and the beginning of Chapter 8.

Now it's 11:15 pm and I'll be lucky to get to bed by 1am...but I feel better about the story and may have shortened it a little bit more. And I'm sure I've repeated myself a bit too much. It's my hope to keep the story to about 600 of these pages, which would translate to about 325-330 pages of a paperback. I just have to stop falling in love with my words.

Oh...but I like them so...

Confusion sets in...

I just got to a chapter in Underground Guy that decided to rearrange itself and now it makes no sense to me. I'll need to go back over it to see WTF is going on here. It started out with me not liking how Dev starts telling another character what's really going on with the killings...at least, his interpretation of it...and then it brought in stuff that went this direction and that, so I have to stop and fix the chaos it's engendering.

Doesn't help I'm in a very weird mood. I saw this photo of a gendarme sweeping a street -- probably after an accident -- and it hit me in such a way that...that it hurt me. I can't explain it beyond that. I've had pictures do that to me, before, where I see one that's nice and all but a bit innocuous and wind up gripped by it. Caught by it. Lost in it.

This one's just of a young nice-looking cop and a broom on a French street, somewhere. Nothing really there. And yet...well, I don't know if it's the composition or the simplicity of it or the hints of a story behind it or even if I'm attracted to him; I keep coming back to it to look at it, again and again.

And feel feel my breath go soft and the shadows in my heart grow darker...

I love staying home...

I haven't been to the office since Wednesday, last week. Thursday was NYC but Friday-Sunday was staying home and working on UG, and I feel so happy and relaxed, right now. I'm even casual about the work I'm doing on UG because I know it's just a first draft. There'll be some major changes in it, once I have the story down and begin rewrites, but that's to be expected, the way I work.

The only thing I did was laundry and groceries, today, because both were desperately needed. But I still worked on UG at the laundromat and when I got home. I'm at a point in the story where it's moving a bit faster, and could come in at 600 pages. I'm also beginning to wonder if I should cut a character whose story is not as joined to Dev's as the others.

I'm at the point where Dev has learned Tawfiq, an Arab man he connected with in London, knew one of the murder victims and he's trying to figure out what this means. But first he has to have dinner with his sister in law and lay out what's going on with the local police and his arrest...and she notices he's begun to drink like his father.

This was changed from him explaining to her about another guy -- Ryan Oriaggio, in Chicago. It was a good 10 pages long...and didn't work there, so I shifted it to another file and let Diana, the sister-in-law, come down hard on Dev and his ways. She even tells him he's getting help or she'll help put him in jail. All of which adds to the chaos in his mind.

It's still clumsy but works as a place-holder. And it adds to a sub-plot about second chances. So now I don't know if Ryan's bit fits, anymore...considering the direction the story's taking. But that's half the fun, I guess, working it out.

You never know where the paths will lead...if you let them carry you forth.

Got socks and a dock case...

I dislike how my MacBook Pro does not have any serious ports -- no USB, no Ethernet cable, just these insipid little slots for power and a USB extender -- so I ordered a Dockcase. Got it and I now have the equivalent of 4 USB ports and one for an Ethernet cable and some slots I'm not sure what they're for but like the flexibility they offer, if I ever decide to learn about them and use them. It's also a protective cover for the laptop when I'm traveling. The one drawback is, the panel holding all the ports gets pretty warm...almost hot.

I also got 30 pairs of fun socks in dark colors. I'd ordered them from a discount place for a total of $25 and they're all here. 100% cotton, they say, so we'll see how it goes. I feel very wealthy in footwear and electronic extensions.

I worked on UG much of the day, getting to chapter 7, where Devlin is taking control of his situation back from those who've been smacking him around with it. This puts me a quarter of the way through my outline and just under 200 pages. So maybe the story will tap out at 750 pages, or so.

His sister-in-law has shown up, claiming to be in London for a baby shower but really out to find out as much about what's really going on as she can. She used to be a major party girl and has connections Devlin can't even image exist. She's also proven that she's a tigress when it comes to protecting her family, and she doesn't want Dev's mess to destroy their company.

I'm having a blast with this. Even threw in an Andrea Dworkin reference, where a woman says she's glad men are being raped and murdered instead of women, for a change, because then it might make the system of justice put some real teeth into the rape laws. Pretty bloodthirsty...but part of Andrea Dworkin's writings are that sex is rape against women, even consensual sex...hell, even gay sex between men. Her attitude seems to be that a man is using a man as a substitute for a woman, so in effect he's having symbolic sex with a woman and since sex with women is rape, to her...it's weird and I know I don't understand the subtleties of it, but I don't care.

I'm having fun.

UG continues...

I took the day off, slept until 11am and worked on Underground Guy most of the day. Didn't go out since I didn't need anything and it was snowing, and I've spent so much time traveling. I dug through to the point where Delvin is released by the cops, and stopped...because I don't know why that happens. Nor can I figure out why the lead investigator on the case -- a guy Dev refers to as Sir Monte -- asks a certain question.

I really can bedevil myself, at times, with what I write. Something comes out and I don't know why and suddenly the whole story is lopsided and in danger of being nonsensical, What's damning about this instance is, it's a perfectly logical question and one Devlin has no answer to. But Sir Monte insists on a satisfactory answer so Dev tries to make one up but it doesn't work. And it's driving me nuts, now,

I've read books other writers have written about their writing and I don't remember any of them having this issue. Some say they speak to the characters. Some say they let the story develop itself. Some say they work up a diagram and stick with it, no matter what. Steven King just harps on getting rid of adjectives. So is my manner of work really that bizarre? Am I the only one where it borders on insanity?

I honestly don't know. I just know I'm making a very erotic book about a very hideous situation trapped in very deep meaning, somewhere, and it's mocking me for not seeing it. Shit, I'm not D H Lawrence or Henry Miller. I don't have a command of English like they did. I'm probably closer to Marquis de Sade, just not as deep...and besides, he wrote in French.

Hell, maybe I was him in a former life and lost some of my intelligence in the rebirth...

Job 3 done...

This one was hard because it was all artwork. I was expecting it to be unframed and in mylar sleeves, but 18 items were still in their frames and, even though we were told they'd been removed from the frames, they apparently came over to the US that way. And needed to be fitted back into their crate in a way that protected them.

Fortunately, all but one were under plexiglass or plastic; that one glass one got wrapped in plenty of bubble and set in a careful space to keep it from jostling about. But this is not my expertise and I won't be feeling comfortable till they're home and unpacked and nothing is broken.

But it took me hours to get them done. Setting them in and pulling them out of the crate to adjust and rethink and rearrange and test...but I finally got them all in along with the extra items I got handed. Packed to the brim. And I'm beat.

I'm now at Jet Blue's Terminal 5 having had a good burger and onion rings and a Jamba juice, so I'm feeling mellow. Just ready for bed. Soooo ready. My flight, this morning was supposed to leave at 8:20 but didn't go until 9. But I was still up at 6am to get to the airport and that always throws off my rhythm.

So not getting anything done on UG, today. Brain dead. I did go through a folder of notes and found some I'd like to add in. Found another few that helped clarify some issues. I should have gone through this first, but it's not too late to add them in.

And here comes Zonesville...

Typical me...

As is usual in my writing, I got stuck on a section where Devlin goes from remembering the revenge he took on Griffin Faure to wondering why he chose to assault Reg. I couldn't get it to work, smoothly, but it's necessary for these two moments to be connected and I really think they belong right where they are. So I've reworked it four times trying to find the path. I'm closer, but nothing final.

I tried to tell myself something else is needed, there, but that just doesn't work in my mind, yet. I don't know if it will. I may be trying to force something through that just isn't workable. I've done that before and it's taken me weeks to finally get to where I accepted it. I can get so very stubborn when it comes to my initial ideas for a story. Sometimes that's good but other times it's not. I can't tell which is which, yet, not till I've worn myself down past the stubbornness.

Early night, tonight. I'm off to NYC for the day, which has been made harder because my plans for a ride to the job from JFK were scuttled. Same for returning to JFK. I'll have to subway it into Manhattan and then bus it to the warehouse, in Jamaica. Irritating but rather typical.

I have to admit, I'm surprised Doug Jones won the Senate race in Alabama. And considering 3/4 of white men and 2/3 of white women voted for that racist, homophobic child molester in place of him, it's really amazing. Seems black women put him over the top. Small wonder Roy Moore's demanding a recount. Alabama went out of its way to suppress the minority vote...but they screwed it up and don't like to admit that.

People are touting this as America's repudiation of the GOP, ignoring the hideous statistics. If things go as they normally do, the DNC and DCCC will proceed to shrug off black women's voices and proclaim themselves to be the saviors of American democracy, despite all evidence to the contrary. Hell, they're still blaming Bernie for Hillary's loss, even though there were more than a dozen other factors in her crash and burn.

But never let the truth get in the way of a good fantasy.

Another job done...

Up at 7, flight at 9:30, drive through Washington DC in lovely weather, work in Georgetown, all v ery nice and lovely. Then I needed to find an Office Depot...and found the nearest one had no parking, unless you're willing to pay $11.00 at the underground garage by the store. So I drove to Glen Burnie to get what I needed, got to the trucking company we're using by 3 and hit the airport by 4:30. So I wrangled a seat on an earlier flight and got home at a decent hour. Still had to dig my car out from under the snow, but it wasn't too bad.

I didn't have time or focus to do much about UG, though I did make some notes on possible ways to work in the return of Griffin Faure. He's the son of a billionaire who's idea of good business is not to pay sub-contractors until they threaten to sue you, then settle. Him pulling that nearly bankrupted Devlin's family's business and almost drove his brother, Colin, to suicide for getting them into that situation.

Dev takes a vicious revenge on Faure and forces his father to pay not only what they owed Dev's family but a number of other people they defrauded. So it looks like Griffin learned of Dev's legal situation and has begun to manipulate it to cause him as much pain and suffering as possible. Not yet sure how to work that in, though I have a couple of possible paths to take, but it's a neat fit to my usual paranoid-conspiracy writing. I just wonder if I can use this bit for comedy relief?

Man...that would not be politically correct...

Long day...long night...

Didn't sleep much, last night, because the heating unit in my hotel was noisy and I could not shut it completely off. This is a brand new building and it's already falling apart. Doors that don't fit the frame. WiFi that's inaccessible. Toilet paper roll that falls off when you get close to it. Man...this was sad...

Then I picked up the shipment and drove straight back to Buffalo, double-quick to avoid driving at night with snow. Got to the storage room by 3:30...and almost wish I hadn't rushed so much. The countryside was glorious...like a Currier & Ives Christmas card. Evergreen trees bunched together and flocked in white. Other trees bare of leaves but with layers of snow along their outstretched branches, giving elegant form to them. Flurries...and clouds fluctuating between white and gray mixed with blue. Rivers, creeks and streams surrounded by black rocks and ice of all shapes, sizes and colors. Everybody says the stretch of the 90 between Syracuse and Buffalo is boring, but it wasn't to me.

I had another idea about UG, en route, and this one I almost like -- bringing back a character from earlier in the story and having him involved in what's happening. Got a nice little page of notes. It adds another layer to the story and could be even more of a surprise. I'm not sure if it will work into the outline I have, right now...but I'm open to considering it.

I'm just not open to working on it, tonight...I'm already zoning...

Travel tripe...

I'm in a new La Quinta whose wifi has no protection. My laptop hates it so much, it won't let me use it. I'm using my phone's personal hotspot to be online. Irritating, but actually a good thing, in the end. It focused me on continuing with Underground Guy and I am now done with Chapter 2, dealing with Devlin's arrest and interrogation.

This is going to be a hard-assed story, in many ways. Dev's a real devil -- physically abused as a child, along with his brother; abandoned by their mother...who might actually have been killed by their father; full of fury and self-righteousness in his actions, no matter how extreme. It's already proving to be a fight in my head.

While driving to Albany, I had a nice, psychotic little battle over whether or not to kill one character. One side of me was pushing hard for it. Telling me to prove how blunt and vicious I could be. The other side was just as adamant that it NOT happen. That it was the wrong message for the story to send. The drive was just under 5 hours, and it went on the entire time.

I think it's settled, but truth is I won't know for sure until I write the section of the book it would occur in. I've gotten to where I know all to well any decision made now won't matter once I reach the point of really writing it.

It's like with How To Rape A Straight Guy...I had Curt's ending all worked out. He was going to save Shayes, the guy thanks him, and then Curt would vanish to live a life on the run. Only it didn't come out that way. He'd told too much of his story...remembered too much of his past...to take such a cowardly way out.

So as I was writing it, Shayes drifted into catatonic shock, bringing this tenderness out of Curt. He bathes the guy and dresses him and they have a tender, almost (one-sided) romantic drive up to Santa Barbara where he leaves Shayes to be easily found. Then Curt hides in Las Vegas till he realizes he'll never be able to escape his actions so returns to LA, sees his little brother is going to be nice and normal and whole, cries in relief, and turns himself in. And at the end, he's back in prison, but a different man in many ways who realizes he's the one who messed up his life, no one else.

I have a feeling the same thing will wind up happening with the end of UG. The only things I know for sure that are happening are reversing the positions of a couple of main characters and changing the location of the big finale. Everything else is still in flux.

Which makes writing this scary...and exciting to me...