Gary Inbinder's Blog, page 6
February 10, 2014
The Devil in Montmartre
My new historical murder mystery, The Devil in Montmartre: A Mystery in Fin de Siècle Paris, will be out this year in hardcover edition from Pegasus Books (Distributed in the U.S. by W.W. Norton, & Co) with an expected December 15, 2014 publication date.
You can catch a glimpse of the brilliant cover art here on Goodreads!
You can catch a glimpse of the brilliant cover art here on Goodreads!
December 2, 2013
We Don't Need No Stinkin' Rules!
I paraphrased a famous line from Treasure of Sierra Madre—We don't need no stinkin' badges—to make a point. There are plenty of rules for writing available online and in bookstores and libraries. We need rules of grammar, style, and punctuation to make our writing intelligible. Of course, we may tweak, bend, and transform the basics when appropriate. "We have no need of odiferous badges" would seem ludicrous coming out of the mouth of a bandit about to whack Humphrey Bogart with a machete.
Beyond the basics, rules are made to be broken. I repeat: rules are made to be broken. That's both a redundancy and a cliché. There are rules against redundancies and clichés that I follow— except when I don't. At times, it's all right to be redundant for emphasis and, in everyday usage, people often speak and think in clichés. Therefore, a judicious use of clichés is perfectly fine. Perfectly fine. Perfectly is an adverb. Should we avoid using adverbs? Does adding "perfectly" to "fine" convey a subtly nuanced message to the reader, or is it superfluous? Yes—no—maybe—depends.
Writing is an art. An MFA in Creative Writing doesn't make you Shakespeare. At best, creative writing instructors, not to mention writers' groups, agents and editors, can provide guidance, criticism—and rules. All that tutelage may be valuable, but it doesn't make you a writer. Much of this business is trial and error, reading and writing and dealing with rejection and criticism. Starting stories, novels, plays, poems and scripts, grappling with their complexities, revising them to death and often as not abandoning them. Failing and, to quote Samuel Beckett, learning how to "fail better." Following the rules, tweaking them, bending them, ignoring them and creating rules of our own. If we achieve some success, we can promulgate our own set of rules for future generations to follow, ignore or transform as they please.
Do we need stinkin' rules? You bet—maybe—depends.
Beyond the basics, rules are made to be broken. I repeat: rules are made to be broken. That's both a redundancy and a cliché. There are rules against redundancies and clichés that I follow— except when I don't. At times, it's all right to be redundant for emphasis and, in everyday usage, people often speak and think in clichés. Therefore, a judicious use of clichés is perfectly fine. Perfectly fine. Perfectly is an adverb. Should we avoid using adverbs? Does adding "perfectly" to "fine" convey a subtly nuanced message to the reader, or is it superfluous? Yes—no—maybe—depends.
Writing is an art. An MFA in Creative Writing doesn't make you Shakespeare. At best, creative writing instructors, not to mention writers' groups, agents and editors, can provide guidance, criticism—and rules. All that tutelage may be valuable, but it doesn't make you a writer. Much of this business is trial and error, reading and writing and dealing with rejection and criticism. Starting stories, novels, plays, poems and scripts, grappling with their complexities, revising them to death and often as not abandoning them. Failing and, to quote Samuel Beckett, learning how to "fail better." Following the rules, tweaking them, bending them, ignoring them and creating rules of our own. If we achieve some success, we can promulgate our own set of rules for future generations to follow, ignore or transform as they please.
Do we need stinkin' rules? You bet—maybe—depends.
September 3, 2013
The Not So Great Gatsby
F. Scott Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby" has a well-deserved reputation as one of the greatest novels of its time, speaking as it does with the voice of America's post-WWI "Lost Generation." In that regard, I place it alongside Hemingway's "The Sun Also Rises" as one of the dazzling crown jewels of 1920's American literature. Therefore, I very much wanted to like the latest film version of an American classic. I was sadly disappointed for the following reasons.
Baz Luhrmann's Gatsby is one of the most visually stunning films ever made. It's brilliant, it's gorgeous, it's overwhelming. And that's its major flaw, because for most of the film the characters and story-line remain hidden, buried beneath a ponderous heap of glamour and glitz.
The ghost of Fitzgerald/Nick Carraway hovers round in the narrative voice-over, but that adds to the confusion because the narrator/observer's faint early 20th century whisper seems incongruous, stilted, anachronistic and at times ludicrous as it strains to be heard over the booming techno pop, hip-hop twenty-first century noise. Only toward the end, in the dramatic climax, denouement and ending does the tragedy of Fitzgerald's tale break through the ash-heap's surface and shine like the light on Daisy Buchanan's dock.
I mentioned the ash-heap and the green light, familiar imagery to anyone who's read the novel. We see these images vividly portrayed in the Oculist's eye billboard overlooking the Valley of Ashes and the light at the end of the dock. But a story is more than symbolic imagery; it is primarily about the characters, their thoughts, emotions, actions and reactions, conflicts and resolutions. These dramatic elements put meaning into what is otherwise empty symbolism. In this film version, the preeminent dramatic elements don't come out until the final scenes, when the soundtrack is turned down, the glitz and glamour are stripped away, and the actors are permitted to act.
Fitzgerald's novel is of a particular time and place and I believe a film version ought to be true to the period. The 1974 film starring Robert Redford, Mia Farrow, Sam Waterston and Bruce Dern, directed by Jack Clayton and produced by David Merrick from Francis Ford Coppola's screenplay is about as close to Fitzgerald and his Jazz Age New York tragedy as you can get, and for that reason I recommend it. On the other hand, for those who like mash-ups, Magical Realism, Steam punk, comic books, video games, cartoons, and Las Vegas spectacles, the new Gatsby might be the thing. However, to quote a popular Gershwin song of Fitzgerald's generation, the new, amped up, glammed up, glitzy Gatsby is "not for me".
The Great Gatsby
Baz Luhrmann's Gatsby is one of the most visually stunning films ever made. It's brilliant, it's gorgeous, it's overwhelming. And that's its major flaw, because for most of the film the characters and story-line remain hidden, buried beneath a ponderous heap of glamour and glitz.
The ghost of Fitzgerald/Nick Carraway hovers round in the narrative voice-over, but that adds to the confusion because the narrator/observer's faint early 20th century whisper seems incongruous, stilted, anachronistic and at times ludicrous as it strains to be heard over the booming techno pop, hip-hop twenty-first century noise. Only toward the end, in the dramatic climax, denouement and ending does the tragedy of Fitzgerald's tale break through the ash-heap's surface and shine like the light on Daisy Buchanan's dock.
I mentioned the ash-heap and the green light, familiar imagery to anyone who's read the novel. We see these images vividly portrayed in the Oculist's eye billboard overlooking the Valley of Ashes and the light at the end of the dock. But a story is more than symbolic imagery; it is primarily about the characters, their thoughts, emotions, actions and reactions, conflicts and resolutions. These dramatic elements put meaning into what is otherwise empty symbolism. In this film version, the preeminent dramatic elements don't come out until the final scenes, when the soundtrack is turned down, the glitz and glamour are stripped away, and the actors are permitted to act.
Fitzgerald's novel is of a particular time and place and I believe a film version ought to be true to the period. The 1974 film starring Robert Redford, Mia Farrow, Sam Waterston and Bruce Dern, directed by Jack Clayton and produced by David Merrick from Francis Ford Coppola's screenplay is about as close to Fitzgerald and his Jazz Age New York tragedy as you can get, and for that reason I recommend it. On the other hand, for those who like mash-ups, Magical Realism, Steam punk, comic books, video games, cartoons, and Las Vegas spectacles, the new Gatsby might be the thing. However, to quote a popular Gershwin song of Fitzgerald's generation, the new, amped up, glammed up, glitzy Gatsby is "not for me".
The Great Gatsby
July 16, 2013
Damsels in Distress
Suppose Jane Austen, Franz Kafka, and Reinhold Niebuhr collaborated on a script for a Marx Brothers film co-directed by Luis Bunuel and Busby Berkeley. The outcome might have been Whit Stillman's Damsels in Distress, a loopy comedy about late adolescent angst, depression, and suicide in a postmodern world.
"Damsels" is Stillman's fourth film in more than twenty years. Those familiar with the other three—Metropolitan, Barcelona and The Last Days of Disco—will find themselves in familiar territory. Stillman relies primarily on characterization, ludicrous situations and cleverly incongruous dialogue, with little concern for formal plotting. The results can be hilarious or off-putting, depending on your point of view.
The story takes place at Seven Oaks, a fictional college populated, for the most part, with good-looking rich kids who can't get into academically demanding schools. Doomed to Seven Oaks for a variety of reasons, including, but not limited to, low intelligence, depression, and B.O., the students are in need of a savior. Pretty, intelligent, obsessive/compulsive Violet (Greta Gerwig) takes that role upon herself. With the support of two beautiful disciples, perspicacious Rose (Megalyn Echikunwoke) and ditzy Heather (Carrie MacLemore), Violet is on a mission to save her fellow students from their self-defeating and self-destructive tendencies.
The trio brings transfer student Lily (Analeigh Tipton) into the fold, and enlists her help at the campus Suicide Prevention Center, commonly known as The Suicide Center. The girls become romantically involved with several young men including Charlie aka Fred (Adam Brody), Xavier (pronounced Zavier as in Zorro) (Hugo Becker) and frat doofuses (or doufi; there is a typically funny bit of dialogue between the girls about the correct plural of doofus) Frank (Ryan Metcalf) and Thor (Billy Magnussen) who apparently failed to learn about colors in pre-school, and must "hit the books" in college so he can distinguish between blue and green.
After being dumped by her doofus boyfriend, Violet goes on a manic depressive walkabout in search of the Holy Grail, which comes to her in the form of a miraculous scented soap she discovers in a cheap motel bathroom. She subsequently expresses her ecstasy at finding the Grail by inventing a new ballroom dance-step and offering the sacred soap to the hygienically challenged students.
Overall, I liked the film and was especially impressed with Greta Gerwig's performance. However, the thin plot dragged at times and the humor seemed a bit more forced and contrived than it was in Stillman's earlier films. Nevertheless, Damsels in Distress is a refreshing change from typical Hollywood fare, and I would not hesitate to recommend it to Stillman fans, or to those who are in search of a movie that's funny in a goofy, intelligent sort of way and unafraid of being "different."
"Damsels" is Stillman's fourth film in more than twenty years. Those familiar with the other three—Metropolitan, Barcelona and The Last Days of Disco—will find themselves in familiar territory. Stillman relies primarily on characterization, ludicrous situations and cleverly incongruous dialogue, with little concern for formal plotting. The results can be hilarious or off-putting, depending on your point of view.
The story takes place at Seven Oaks, a fictional college populated, for the most part, with good-looking rich kids who can't get into academically demanding schools. Doomed to Seven Oaks for a variety of reasons, including, but not limited to, low intelligence, depression, and B.O., the students are in need of a savior. Pretty, intelligent, obsessive/compulsive Violet (Greta Gerwig) takes that role upon herself. With the support of two beautiful disciples, perspicacious Rose (Megalyn Echikunwoke) and ditzy Heather (Carrie MacLemore), Violet is on a mission to save her fellow students from their self-defeating and self-destructive tendencies.
The trio brings transfer student Lily (Analeigh Tipton) into the fold, and enlists her help at the campus Suicide Prevention Center, commonly known as The Suicide Center. The girls become romantically involved with several young men including Charlie aka Fred (Adam Brody), Xavier (pronounced Zavier as in Zorro) (Hugo Becker) and frat doofuses (or doufi; there is a typically funny bit of dialogue between the girls about the correct plural of doofus) Frank (Ryan Metcalf) and Thor (Billy Magnussen) who apparently failed to learn about colors in pre-school, and must "hit the books" in college so he can distinguish between blue and green.
After being dumped by her doofus boyfriend, Violet goes on a manic depressive walkabout in search of the Holy Grail, which comes to her in the form of a miraculous scented soap she discovers in a cheap motel bathroom. She subsequently expresses her ecstasy at finding the Grail by inventing a new ballroom dance-step and offering the sacred soap to the hygienically challenged students.
Overall, I liked the film and was especially impressed with Greta Gerwig's performance. However, the thin plot dragged at times and the humor seemed a bit more forced and contrived than it was in Stillman's earlier films. Nevertheless, Damsels in Distress is a refreshing change from typical Hollywood fare, and I would not hesitate to recommend it to Stillman fans, or to those who are in search of a movie that's funny in a goofy, intelligent sort of way and unafraid of being "different."
December 1, 2012
The Devil's Progress
As of yesterday, my new Historical Murder Mystery, The Devil in Montmartre, is being represented by the Philip G. Spitzer Literary Agency. Mr. Spitzer is a highly regarded agent with a long, distinguished career and an outstanding client list. Needless to say, I'm delighted to have him represent me.
While I'm very positive about my new novel's chances for success, I'm also aware of the difficulties involved in selling fiction in a highly competitive (some might say brutal) market. I've had plenty of rejections in my writing career, and there are doubtless more to come. Such is life. But to use a Hemingwayesque metaphor, you roll with the punches, stay on your feet, and keep slugging.
So while I'm not yet popping the champagne corks, I'm very optimistic and excited about my great new agent. This is definitely a major step in the right direction.
While I'm very positive about my new novel's chances for success, I'm also aware of the difficulties involved in selling fiction in a highly competitive (some might say brutal) market. I've had plenty of rejections in my writing career, and there are doubtless more to come. Such is life. But to use a Hemingwayesque metaphor, you roll with the punches, stay on your feet, and keep slugging.
So while I'm not yet popping the champagne corks, I'm very optimistic and excited about my great new agent. This is definitely a major step in the right direction.
November 24, 2012
Anna Karenina on the Brain
The ads have wormed their way into my consciousness; I’ve got a bad case of Anna Karenina on the Brain. I’m bewitched by images of pouty Keira Knightley in furs, fireworks, ballrooms filled with beautiful aristocrats in late 19th century finery, and snow. Having written a historical novel set in 19th century Russia, I’m particularly susceptible to the semiotics of the current marketing blitz. I need a mind-purge; this post is my attempt at a cathartic.
I’ve read the novel twice (in English translation); the first time in High School, the second in college. Several years ago I read Henri Troyat’s excellent biography of the author, now out of print. And I’ve seen several screen adaptations of Anna K.; the 1948 Vivien Leigh version remains my favorite.
The novel has retained its popularity since its first publication as a magazine serial (1875-1877). Simply put, it’s a compelling story with engaging, psychologically complex characters, told by one of the great masters of late 19th century realism. But its success is also due to associations in the popular imagination created by clever marketing and word of mouth. If I were writing a jacket blurb I might call it, “A tragic romance set amid the opulence and decadence of an empire in decline.” But that’s not quite what Tolstoy wrote.
A real life event gave Tolstoy the idea for his story; the mistress of a neighboring wealthy landowner committed suicide by throwing herself in front of a locomotive. As I recall, Tolstoy viewed her mangled body in a railway shed. At the time, the author was undergoing a mental crisis and spiritual transformation that led him to renounce Orthodox Christianity and embrace a new theology based on pacifism, communal living, simplicity, and vegetarianism.
Toward the end of his life, Tolstoy became a cult leader, spiritual guru to millions of followers worldwide. This transformation put him at odds with his long-suffering wife and children. For those interested in the author’s final days, I highly recommend "The Last Station," a very well made and historically accurate movie with excellent performances by Christopher Plummer as Tolstoy, Helen Mirren as his wife, and Paul Giamatti as Tolstoy’s Machiavellian disciple, Vladimir Chertkov. I reference Tolstoy’s unorthodoxy (The Russian Orthodox Church excommunicated him in 1901) to put the novel in its proper context.
Much of the novel is a didactic piece about the emptiness of materialism, the hypocrisy and prejudices of society, the vanity of human wishes, and the failure of orthodox morality and religion. Tolstoy barely disguised his dislike of Vronsky, and he wasn’t completely enamored of Anna, either. I recall reading that Tolstoy made Anna more sympathetic after someone he trusted told him he had made her too unlikeable.
The real hero of the novel is Constantine Levin, the author’s stand-in (the name Levin is based on Tolstoy’s first name, Lev). Levin marries Anna’s sister-in-law’s younger sister, Kitty, after she’s jilted by the unworthy Vronsky. The Levin/Kitty relationship is based on Tolstoy’s marriage, at least in its early stages. And one of the most touching, and well-written scenes in the novel, focuses on the death of Levin’s ne’er-do-well brother, another relationship taken from the author’s life.
Tolstoy might have written a novel called “Constantine Levin,” but I don’t think that would have been a worldwide best-seller, not to mention a Hollywood perennial. Imagine a video trailer featuring the balding, bearded, slightly paunchy fellow harvesting wheat with the peasants, singing folk songs, and sitting down in the refectory to a yummy lunch of mush, greens, and well water.
Thankfully, at the time he wrote Anna K., Tolstoy the unorthodox saint had not yet overtaken and subsumed Tolstoy the great storyteller. Theology and ideology notwithstanding, the author created an unforgettable portrait of a beautiful, privileged young woman trapped in a loveless marriage, ripe for an affair with a handsome lover. Tolstoy did not make her cold fish husband, Karenin, a stage villain. Rather, he’s portrayed as an honest albeit ambitious, hard-working bureaucrat who places his civic duty over his private life; and he’s a slave to conventional morality. When he punishes Anna by refusing a divorce and taking sole custody of their son, he really believes he’s acting out of moral conviction and righteousness. Vronsky is a social type Tolstoy despised (I believe he was based on a detested rival) but he adheres to an aristocratic code of honor, and he does love Anna, at least up to a point and in his fashion.
So, will I see the new "Anna Karenina"? I suppose so, but not because I expect to gain any further insight into a familiar, old classic. Rather, I’m still bewitched by images of pouty Keira Knightley in furs, fireworks, ballrooms filled with beautiful aristocrats in late 19th century finery, and snow. Score one for Hollywood and the advertisers.
I’ve read the novel twice (in English translation); the first time in High School, the second in college. Several years ago I read Henri Troyat’s excellent biography of the author, now out of print. And I’ve seen several screen adaptations of Anna K.; the 1948 Vivien Leigh version remains my favorite.
The novel has retained its popularity since its first publication as a magazine serial (1875-1877). Simply put, it’s a compelling story with engaging, psychologically complex characters, told by one of the great masters of late 19th century realism. But its success is also due to associations in the popular imagination created by clever marketing and word of mouth. If I were writing a jacket blurb I might call it, “A tragic romance set amid the opulence and decadence of an empire in decline.” But that’s not quite what Tolstoy wrote.
A real life event gave Tolstoy the idea for his story; the mistress of a neighboring wealthy landowner committed suicide by throwing herself in front of a locomotive. As I recall, Tolstoy viewed her mangled body in a railway shed. At the time, the author was undergoing a mental crisis and spiritual transformation that led him to renounce Orthodox Christianity and embrace a new theology based on pacifism, communal living, simplicity, and vegetarianism.
Toward the end of his life, Tolstoy became a cult leader, spiritual guru to millions of followers worldwide. This transformation put him at odds with his long-suffering wife and children. For those interested in the author’s final days, I highly recommend "The Last Station," a very well made and historically accurate movie with excellent performances by Christopher Plummer as Tolstoy, Helen Mirren as his wife, and Paul Giamatti as Tolstoy’s Machiavellian disciple, Vladimir Chertkov. I reference Tolstoy’s unorthodoxy (The Russian Orthodox Church excommunicated him in 1901) to put the novel in its proper context.
Much of the novel is a didactic piece about the emptiness of materialism, the hypocrisy and prejudices of society, the vanity of human wishes, and the failure of orthodox morality and religion. Tolstoy barely disguised his dislike of Vronsky, and he wasn’t completely enamored of Anna, either. I recall reading that Tolstoy made Anna more sympathetic after someone he trusted told him he had made her too unlikeable.
The real hero of the novel is Constantine Levin, the author’s stand-in (the name Levin is based on Tolstoy’s first name, Lev). Levin marries Anna’s sister-in-law’s younger sister, Kitty, after she’s jilted by the unworthy Vronsky. The Levin/Kitty relationship is based on Tolstoy’s marriage, at least in its early stages. And one of the most touching, and well-written scenes in the novel, focuses on the death of Levin’s ne’er-do-well brother, another relationship taken from the author’s life.
Tolstoy might have written a novel called “Constantine Levin,” but I don’t think that would have been a worldwide best-seller, not to mention a Hollywood perennial. Imagine a video trailer featuring the balding, bearded, slightly paunchy fellow harvesting wheat with the peasants, singing folk songs, and sitting down in the refectory to a yummy lunch of mush, greens, and well water.
Thankfully, at the time he wrote Anna K., Tolstoy the unorthodox saint had not yet overtaken and subsumed Tolstoy the great storyteller. Theology and ideology notwithstanding, the author created an unforgettable portrait of a beautiful, privileged young woman trapped in a loveless marriage, ripe for an affair with a handsome lover. Tolstoy did not make her cold fish husband, Karenin, a stage villain. Rather, he’s portrayed as an honest albeit ambitious, hard-working bureaucrat who places his civic duty over his private life; and he’s a slave to conventional morality. When he punishes Anna by refusing a divorce and taking sole custody of their son, he really believes he’s acting out of moral conviction and righteousness. Vronsky is a social type Tolstoy despised (I believe he was based on a detested rival) but he adheres to an aristocratic code of honor, and he does love Anna, at least up to a point and in his fashion.
So, will I see the new "Anna Karenina"? I suppose so, but not because I expect to gain any further insight into a familiar, old classic. Rather, I’m still bewitched by images of pouty Keira Knightley in furs, fireworks, ballrooms filled with beautiful aristocrats in late 19th century finery, and snow. Score one for Hollywood and the advertisers.
September 19, 2012
My New Novel
I just completed work on "The Devil in Montmartre," a Murder Mystery/Thriller set in Paris during the 1889 Universal Exposition.
The mutilated corpse of a popular model and Moulin Rouge Can-Can dancer is discovered in a Montmartre cess-pit. Inspector Achille Lefebvre, using cutting edge forensics, enters the Parisian underworld to track down the killer. His chief suspects are the artist Toulouse-Lautrec, an acrobat at the Circus Fernando, and a mysterious English gynecologist who might be Jack the Ripper. The novel also incorporates characters from "The Flower to the Painter" including Marcia Brownlow and her patroness/companion Betsy Endicott.
I've sent the manuscript to my writers group and await their feedback. We'll see where it goes from there.
The mutilated corpse of a popular model and Moulin Rouge Can-Can dancer is discovered in a Montmartre cess-pit. Inspector Achille Lefebvre, using cutting edge forensics, enters the Parisian underworld to track down the killer. His chief suspects are the artist Toulouse-Lautrec, an acrobat at the Circus Fernando, and a mysterious English gynecologist who might be Jack the Ripper. The novel also incorporates characters from "The Flower to the Painter" including Marcia Brownlow and her patroness/companion Betsy Endicott.
I've sent the manuscript to my writers group and await their feedback. We'll see where it goes from there.
August 12, 2012
Best Neo-Victorian Novels
"The Flower to the Painter" is currently 15th on the Best Neo-Victorian Novels list. I'm thrilled to have my novel listed alongside some of the finest examples of the genre.
Those among you who are interested in Hist. Fic. of the period might want to take a look at the list and vote for your favorite (s). Just click the link below:
http://www.goodreads.com/list/show/54...
Those among you who are interested in Hist. Fic. of the period might want to take a look at the list and vote for your favorite (s). Just click the link below:
http://www.goodreads.com/list/show/54...
August 1, 2012
Historical Novels Review - Confessions of the Creature
Arleigh Johnson wrote a very nice review of "Confessions of the Creature" for HNR Issue 61 (August 2012). The review can be read free online at the link below.
Gary
http://historicalnovelsociety.org/rev...
Gary
http://historicalnovelsociety.org/rev...
July 3, 2012
Steampunky Blog Post
Steampunk fans--and other Hist Fic afficionados as well-- might enjoy my Steampunky guest post, Sir Goldsworthy Gurney and His Steam Carriage, on English History Authors BlogSpot. :) Click below to read:
http://englishhistoryauthors.blogspot...
Gary
http://englishhistoryauthors.blogspot...
Gary
