Kyle Michel Sullivan's Blog: https://www.myirishnovel.com/, page 75

Stories...

I slammed into a nasty funk and it took me three days to get myself to where I could refocus on APoS. And I did it by going through the first three chapters, again, and finding Brendan's emotional core in them and heightening it. The story picks up 6 months after the bombing, but to him it's just a day or two. And he keeps having flashbacks to not only the explosion but its aftermath in as people try to decide what to do with him.

But while working on it, earlier, all of a sudden I had added in a quickie flash of what seemed like his mother trying to smother him, while he was injured, and is stopped by Danny. I didn't mean to, because this is a real trigger for me.

My own mother tried to smother me, when we were living in San Diego. I was six months old and sick...hell, I was born sickly...and she was probably going through postpartum depression, which wasn't paid much attention to, back then. She'd never been the strongest, emotionally, and she was close to the edge thanks to that.

I would not stop crying and she had learned my father was fucking around on her. He'd even knocked up another woman. So she put a pillow over me and was pressing down when, apparently, someone dropped a pan in the next apartment and the sudden, sharp noise startled her out of her mood. She took me to a doctor. Found out I had spinal meningitis. I got meds. And she moved us back to San Antonio.

My folks were divorced a few months later. I didn't see my father, again, till I was 21.

When I was 10, she told me about this after one of her breakdowns. She was hospitalized a total of 5 times, starting in London. Twice in San Antonio. Once in Grand Forks, ND. And the last in Glendale, after she and my father had remarried and were trending towards divorce, again.

I handled it. I thought. I dealt with it throughout my life. But suddenly comes this attempt by Ma to smother Brendan, in his flashbacks...and I think that kicked me into this funk. I don't want to use it...but it's right for the story. It's right for Brendan. It's just...it's not right for me.

But it's staying in.

It's staying in.

Monday...fucking Monday...

Couldn't sleep last night, not till after 4am, so today's been a slug of a day. Pretty down. Did nothing-work yet still managed to find out my CPA didn't report $200 in prepaid estimated taxes to NY State. Money I'm due as a refund. Oh, and apparently Blogger went back through my blog postings...and I mean way back...and attached warning notices on two of them. From 2014. When I uploaded the first couple scenes of Carli's Kills in screenplay format.

I protested, and they've agreed that they overreacted, but it's not just fucking irritating; it's scary. This is how obnoxious social platforms are going to be, now. What was fine 9 years ago is On-no-we-can't-have-that, anymore. And it's ridiculous.

There's also all the bullshit about Marjorie Taylor Greene being on 60 Minutes, a program I stopped watching years ago, and TFG flying from Florida to NYC to face charges, tomorrow and the whole right wing uproar over that. CNN did a breathless moment by moment like was done when OJ did on his infamous chase in a Ford Bronco...and to even less effect.

Tennessee is kicking out 3 Democrats from the state house because they support gun control, but not a word in the MSM. Just on Twitter. Florida just enabled any fucking lunatic to buy and carry a gun, and barely a mention. Texas is trying to set it up so the Secretary of State can override the results of an election and install his or her own preference, and still nothing in the MSM. I'm so sick of this country.

Oh, Jesus, Sufjan Stevens' song about John Wayne Gacy is playing on KCRW. Perfect.

Piss poor writer...

Not very up, at the moment. Going through this rewrite of New World for Old, I'm finding stupid mistakes and repetitions and contradictions and it's kicking me in the balls. I can understand typos and even missing words, since sometimes my brain races ahead of my fingers, and while I try to catch them all I know I won't. Even though I'll have gone through it again and again. Then had it proofed. And gone through, again.

But in this I had Brendan calling Bernadette and Brandi, his cousins who act like they're twins but aren't, by their names when he can't yet tell them apart. And they like to mess with him, despite their mother's warning. Made obvious because I mention a few paragraphs later that he still can't tell them apart.

And it's set up he has an appointment with a doctor the following Thursday, but the way much of the preceding chapter is written it seems like events take place over a few weeks. Had to clarify that. But finding issues like this, even as I'm trying to make the book consistent and believable, hit hard at my self-confidence.

I'm still plugging through, but it's looking more and more like this draft is going to take some time. Good thing is, I only have one or two days lined up at Caladex to go over paperwork for the NY Antiquarian Book Fair. That'll happen around two weeks prior to the last weekend of the month, when the fair takes place.

I'm halfway tempted to drive to Toronto and have some Beijing Beef at a Panda Express, there. About 100 miles, each way, for fake Chinese food, but it's one of my obsessions and there are none in this area. Like Jack in the Box; none in the mid-Atlantic or New England states for some damn reason. Two of their tacos would be perfect, right now.

Back to 1.253978886204 or something

Okay, in order to make this work in my head, I rewrote the final part of APoS-Derry, after the bomb, and now I'm going through New World for Old to re-establish Brendan as someone other than who he is. He doesn't realize it, at first, because everyone refers to him as Bren or Cousin Bren. If anyone starts to get too specific about anything regarding him, his aunt or uncle quietly shift the conversation away from that.
I've worked through the first three chapters and it's doing well. Now comes the one where his aunt finally explains to him the reality of the situation...and rather than be horrified, he's relieved. To his own shock. He was brought over as Brennan McGabbhin, a third cousin from Donegal, in Ireland. Brendan has simply vanished and no one knows where. And they plan to keep it like that.
Something else popped into this that I'm a bit startled by. He's injured in the bombing and his heart is close to giving out, and there are discussions as to whether or not to finish him off. So Ma decides to end the arguments by trying to smother him, but is stopped by Eamonn and Father Jack. Bren only remembers snatches of it, as well as moments from the trip over when his medications were wearing off.
But this may lead to Brendan finding out why his mother treats him rough...and my current thought is, she tried to force a miscarriage and it didn't work, like had happened with other pregnancies. She did not want another child, yet here he is, and he's the one who gives her the most trouble. She doesn't hate him; she resents him.
At the moment, I've got Brendan being given Valium to keep him quiet, but I may change that to Librium. Still looking into the interaction with nitroglycerin tablets, since he has a heart issue. So far it doesn't seem like it's a good idea to mix the two. But something to keep in mind is this is 1972/3 and the research is not as conclusive about any of that, yet.
Of course, I only intended to work new details into small sections of the book. Never was gonna happen that way; I did one change here with led to another change there and now I'd doing a full rewrite of NWfO. It's just my way of writing.

Putting the brakes on...

I had to take a step back and let this jumble about how Brendan gets from Derry to Houston settle in my head because I was getting lost in it and probably making things worse. At least this little breather is helping me accept that the set up is simple while I'm still trying to complicate it.
As mentioned yesterday, Brendan was already leaving. He had his passport and has established a reason for his absence. He has no known link to the bombing. Things are in such chaos at that moment, no one can really say whether or not they saw him being carted off. So he's covered, there.
There are still those in the IRA who want to just put him in a grave, but that's stopped, quick. I had his sister in Toronto involved in deciding to have him brought to Houston, but that's now questionable. However, his aunt still makes sense. She's always had an interest in him and sent him money and things. She forces her husband to arrange it, with Brendan now under another name and being brought to the US for treatment of a heart condition, once his wounds are healed.
Which means Uncle Sean would probably have both of his passports -- the one he got for himself and the faked one set up to bring him to the US. So I still need to work out the way that's going to play. Or if it does. I'm not completely sure.
Another thing is, neither the British Army nor the RUC would be looking for him, to question. It's only later they learn he might have been there and seen it or helped in it. I know how to have that happen, and it adds a complication to Brendan's time in Derry, upon his return.
Oh, Lord...am I ever going to get finished with this book? Every time I think I'm close, I peel back another layer of complications.

Wow, edit city...

Man, I am doing a lot of cutting rearranging and slashing in Book 3 of APoS, which I think I'm going to call Home Not Home. But anyway, I used to have this massive scenario worked out where Brendan was snuck into the US under another name and people back home think he's been put in a grave by the IRA for messing up their operation and getting a few people imprisoned, but I dropped it because it's just silly and overwrought and made no sense.

Well, it's been so long since I dealt with Book Three, I'd forgotten how interwoven that plot-line is in the first four chapters, and I'm having a lot of fun cutting it out and still having the story flow. Because it's showing me my current idea of him traveling under his own name as Aunt Mari's nephew may not work.

I need to keep in mind that there was no link between Brendan and the bombing, so far as the British and RUC were aware. He left his mother a note saying he was leaving to work in Ireland, but didn't say where. He got himself a passport. And he was seriously injured and was taken to a safe house on the border, so he's not in a hospital for them to become suspicious. Why would they even begin to suspect he was involved in it?

While the IRA might be pissed off and wonder if he messed things up because he was seeing Joanna, they would quickly see it was all just rotten luck. Still, he does have to disappear. His injuries would raise a lot of suspicion if he went to a hospital, and his mental state is pretty much degraded after what he witnessed. So he can't be trusted not to give everything away. And to have him openly travel in that condition? No. I may return to the idea of him traveling into the US under another name. Meaning rework that into Book Two.

Shit, why can't I think of this crap while I'm in the middle of writing it and not have to do this dance with my thoughts over and over as Brendan doles out the information? It's irritating.

But better to figure it out now than after the book is published.

Back to the push, too...

Worked on another 2 chapters of APoS Book Three... which I'm calling Return but really want something more meaningful. The image is of Gatwick Airport in 1981. Brendan flies through there en route back to Derry, where he finds his sister, Maeve, is overwhelmed and his mother really is wasting away from cancer. He feels relieved...to his shame. She still hates him, from how she talks to him, but now he's not so sure he cares about knowing why. He's not even sure she'll be honest with him.

I also got back to sending out queries to agents for APoS. I really want this to be offered through a publishing house that has the reach to get it publicized and into book stores. Self-publishing is not great unless you know how to self-promote and do it for hours each day. Which I don't.

Anyway, here's my latest letter, and I emailed queries to 2 agents in NYC:

------------------------------

My three volume novel, A Place of Safety, is the story of Brendan Kinsella, a lad who just wants to live his life. But he was born and raised in Derry (aka: Londonderry), Northern Ireland, and history interferes with his plans.

The first volume, Derry, begins in 1966, when Brendan's father is murdered. He is but ten years of age. Thought of as simple but with an innate ability to repair things, he navigates his way through a society in thrall to history and the Catholic church as he tires to forge his own path. He forms a relationship with a Protestant girl...a relationship that must be kept secret from all family and friends, for fear of reprisals.

The story is told through Brendan’s eyes and sweeps through:

·      the 1968 Civil Rights demonstrations in Derry 

·      the attack on peaceful marchers at Burntollet Bridge in early 1969 

·      the lead-up to The Battle of Bogside in August of that year 

·      the arrival of British troops to separate the two warring sides

·      the re-introduction of internment in 1971

·      Bloody Sunday in 1972

·      witnessing a horrific bombing in October, that year

This section is currently 132,845 words and 583 pps long, double-spaced and in Courier 12 point font. I have short synopses of each chapter, as well.

Volume 2, New World for Old, is set between 1973 and 1981. Thanks to the bombing he witnessed, Brendan is in a catatonic state so is stashed away at his aunt's home in Houston, Texas until he recovers. Eventually, he tries to rebuild his life, there, but finds the hates and prejudices in Houston are not much different from Derry. This is in third draft, 122,427 words and 542 pps.

In volume 3, Return, he is called home during the hunger strikes, where he learns his father’s true history, is betrayed to the British army, is brutally interrogated, and finally accepts his destiny. I am currently working on a third draft of this part.

This story is modern historical fiction. I have been working on it off and on for several years. While I have self-published 14 books in both print and ebook, I would like to situate A Place of Safety with a mainstream publisher to avoid the limitations that come with self-publishing. I am hoping you can assist me with this.

Below is the first 5 pages of the story.

Thank you for considering A Place of Safety. I believe it will align perfectly with your interests.

I look forward to hearing from you.

 

Kyle Michel Sullivan

Slop day...

I have a kitchen sink filled with dishes, pots, pans and glasses that I have not washed and may not do it till tomorrow. I had one of my headaches and just didn't feel up for it. I did make myself do a bit of contemplating about a job in the UK that I won't get to be part of because it's not all that valuable or difficult to do. We have a guy there who can handle it. So I worked up a possible scenario for it then got back onto APoS - Return.
I could say I polished up 2 chapters, but reality is I expanded the first chapter by enough to break it in half and make two. They're about Brendan's preparations for traveling back to Derry, not as himself or even the fake name his uncle forced on him but as Jeremy Landau, his Jewish buddy. He and Jeremy look enough alike to be brothers, so he cuts his hair and has Everett add some russet highlights, and borrows Jeremy's passport. A document filled with travels all over the world, since he's in the oil business.
This will make him different enough from his old self to give him cover, at least for a while. In Derry, secrets cannot be kept for long. But he's been in Texas long enough to be able to talk in a lousy twang, and since Dallas is playing in the UK and the accents on that show were rather over the top, he should be fine.
There's a direct flight on British Caledonian from Houston's Intercontinental (as it was called before it was renamed Bush Intercontinental) into Gatwick, then Glasgow, then a puddle-jumper over to Derry. Not cheap, but Brendan's been saving for years and has plenty to handle it.
He finally acknowledges this was a subconscious part of his plan to escape his uncle's control. By this point, his brother, Rhuari, is living in Derry and working at a college to teach Gaelic, so he's much better protected. And Brendan now knows Da was not born a Kinsella but took the name when he married Ma. Why? That will be revealed...maybe. Or maybe it won't. No telling.
It's up to Brendan to decide.

Post job blues return...

Had a lot to do, today -- a phone call about shipping artwork from the UK to the US; pick up my taxes (I owe $1500!!!); stock up on groceries; send a FedEx to my brother in San Antonio because the PO refuses to deliver my mail to his PO Box...and all in the non-stop rain. Also a fair amount of How can I not help you mixed in with it. By the time I got done, it was nearly 6pm so I turned on some Amethystium and made dinner and chatted online with Dan Skinner, a cover artist I know...and feel a bit better.
Dan worked up this image that would be perfect for the 1871 section of Blood Angel, where Léonidès finds another Blood Angel and turns him into a vampire to be his companion...then realizes he probably should not have. But what's done cannot be undone, so he suggests a swap with the less than satisfactory BA associate of his BA sister, Gabrielle, only she reneges on the deal and things get nasty.
I have a lot of it written, already, but put it aside for APoS and will not return until I have Brendan's story set as tight as I can. Besides, it's not as if the first book of Blood Angel is selling like crazy. I haven't even hit 100 copies bought, yet.
But I am inspired by that image. I paid him for its use. I just don't know if it'll represent Franz, Leonides' mistake, or Dmitryi, who is Gabrielle's error. Time will tell.
As for Amesthystium, that soothing music reminds me of Dair's Window. I used it to set the mood for a couple of important moments in the initial screenplay, and want to return to the novel of it, as well. It's a MM romance and story of rebuilding after tragedy. I thought I'd have it done years ago and intended to take it to a conference in the UK to introduce it to the world, but Covid hit and life got derailed.
Typical, for me.

Regrouping day...

Much as I hated to do it, I got up early and took the car back to Avis before nine. On a Sunday! Then I tried to have pancakes at McDonald's but the one I went to was closed for some reason so came home and made myself french toast. Grumbling.
I like McDonald's pancakes and sausage and had myself all geared up for that, but the other outlet close to me makes me wary of its cleanliness and I didn't feel like driving miles in another direction to find one. I should've just gone; it would have set the day up much better. Maybe tomorrow...
Did 4 loads of laundry, thanks to working around a very dirty, wildly shedding German Shepherd, last week. Nice old pup named Hawk who's just had his tenth birthday and really does need a bath. He liked how I scratched his ears, though. And I liked how I was able to get some Claritin to handle the allergies.
Tomorrow is catching up on paperwork and calling a client about a potential job in the UK (I really, really, really want to go but don't think it'll happen...dammit). Groceries are needed, and I have to pick up my taxes and send off a FedEx package to my brother in San Antonio since his PO Box keeps refusing to deliver my letter to him. I've had it returned to me, twice, and it's a legal document he needs.
Then Tuesday it's onto APoS-Return, AKA: Book Three. I thought I'd work out a synopsis, first, but Brendan and I don't connect over that as easily, so I'm doing another draft and then doing the outline. Work in everything I've planned for it. Makes more sense, really...I keep telling myself.
Be prepared for more grumbling...