Phil Davis's Blog, page 2

Behind Schedule

Progress on Just A Touch has slowed – work, family, and stuff are distracting me, in a good way. I keep remembering Steven King’s advice to let a chapter or chapters ferment before taking an editing pass. And when I do that, the work gets better (at least I think so).

In this excerpt from Chapter 23, we find Maya contemplating her image in a mirror. She’s thinking about her life, her age, and her new lover.

Maya looked at her image in the mirror, ran her fingers through her hair, and wondered if this was a part she wanted to play.

Girlfriend or one-night-stand? she thought.

Except for the application of face makeup, she rarely looked at her full image, and she couldn’t remember the last time she studied her reflection. Growing up in Barcelona, her girlfriends called her Machorra, the girl who would rather play soccer with the boys than gossip with the girls. She never saw herself as attractive or special.

They were two weeks into the relationship, and each morning she swore to stay in control and not let him get too far inside her head. Maya’s been here before, and she resists making plans or elevating expectations.

She turns to the mirror, and in her mind, her reflection had not changed much since her twenties. A face more oval than round, thin lips with a rounded cupid bow shape, and ears she kept hidden under her bronze hair. This morning, it was the same Maya, but a little different, a little older. She noticed the emergence of fine lines around her eyes, and the skin along her cheek and jaw was no longer as firm and taut. She turned her head from side to side, thinking it was the lighting.

She was feeling like her days as a coed, at the beginning of the road. A blink and suddenly, she was somewhere near the middle. It was time to confront the demons of age and get on with her life.

Meeting new people

Meeting new people

To be done – or not be done

The writing phase on my novel “Just A Touch” is complete… But…
The way I construct a story may be different from other authors, which is a bet I’m willing to take. The process of creation is a slippery slope - smoke on a windy day. And all of us who write approach the task with our imagination, quirks, and methods to inspire ourselves.
I am an architect by profession, and my writing process is similar to how I design buildings. It starts as an idea or concept, built up layer by layer. As I add another layer, I learn more about the plot, I gain deeper knowledge of my characters, and I can build their backstories. By the time I’m halfway through telling the story, I have an intimate relationship with each character, even those with bit parts.
During the last year, I’ve learned about interiority (a character’s thoughts, feelings, reactions, and inner struggles), and I paid more attention to building tension, atmosphere, and suspense. And, of course, I am reading when I’m not writing. I do, on occasion, thumb through my copy of Steven King's “On Writing” (which I have marked with highlighter). You can’t ignore greatness, especially when he lays it out in “plain” terms right on the page.
The inspiration for “Just A Touch” comes from an article I read while researching another story. The article was posted in the Guardian in June of 2019. It was the title that completely knocked me off my feet: “Narco Super Highway - The Drug Route You’ve Never Heard Of”.
The title piqued my interest, and some of the discoveries I made shook me to the core. I had just recently researched the islands of French Polynesia, and the analogy my brain concocted was similar to a group of peasants thrown into the Coliseum with blood-thirsty gladiators. I knew the outcome would not be good - and off I went.
My goal is to publish in February, but there is a lot more to do.

Just a Touch

getting to the end

getting to the end

I’m nearing the end of the writing stage on my new novel, “Just A Touch”. I don’t know why, but my pace slows down as I pull all the elements of the story together. But this time, I can say that I’ve enjoyed the journey, and maybe I don’t want to get off the carousel.

Maya Alvarez, a character from Lies, Deception and the Stealing of Wealth, agreed to a repeat performance. I had to embellish the offer with a leading role and add to the complexity of her character. She complained that her character was pushed to the side at the end of Lies, Deception. I tried to explain how she was competing against Angelina and Jessica. It was a creative decision. She stomped her foot and whispered a cuss word I won’t utter in this post, but she agreed on a repeat performance.

This is a short segment where she comes to grips with her humanity and sexuality.

It had been a five-year romantic dry spell, and she knew the only excuse was her fear of the unknown. And now there was someone, and birthday forty was closing in.

She smiled at me when I wrote this for her.

Maya looks at her image in the tall mirror, turning from side to side, then a complete circle. The bikini was a dark orange color, smaller than she would normally wear, and she smiles at her image. It was egotistical dopamine, a welcome lift to her existence. This could be the beginning of the rest of my life, she thought as her fingers pulled at the material, adjusting how the suit embraced the contours of her body. You have to decide, Maya.

She reached for her cell and touched the camera app, held it up, and took a snapshot of her image, and before she could talk herself out of the intention, it was shot across radio waves to Gabriel, followed by a message. I’m on the deck at the spa.

Imagine what happens to a small community when illicit drugs are introduced to its citizens. The locals indulge in the use and trafficking of  the drugs. They become outcasts, a dark side of the community.

Now imagine what happens if that same community was on an atoll in the Pacific Ocean.

Atolls in the oceans of the world are small, self-contained habitats. They are inhabited by peaceful people, cultures that have learned to live with few resources. These cultures are fragile and cannot absorb the disruptive consequences that drug smuggling brings.

Imagine the effect. Imagine the chaos, and imagine the ruined lives.

Character Descriptions

Describing a character, and not boring the reader with useless details, is a challenge. I view it as a type of six-word-story, and I try to get a lot of milage out of each word, and let the reader fill in the blanks.

This section is in chapter 14 of my upcoming novel: “Just a Touch”.

Let’s see if I did my job…

Chapter 14 – “Just a Touch”

June Takaishii was the office manager at Cano Air Transport. Small in stature, tough as a junkyard dog, oriental, and flawlessly punctual, Kailani was thankful to have her as a team member.

She arrived every morning at seven AM with an umbrella on her forearm. It was protection from the sun and afternoon squalls that frequented Honolulu, and Kailani knew a four-inch blade was in the handle, a thin shaft of forged steel with a story to tell. June always deposited a brown sack lunch in the refrigerator, and after making a full inspection of the office, she made a cup of tea and then went to her desk.

More in sex in writing

Last October I wrote a blog discussing how I like to deal with the real and natural world of sex. In that post, I said: “We all know how it works, and if we don’t, there are a multitude of films (I’m surprised how many) on Hulu and Prime that show and don’t tell. Everyone brings something a little different to the party, but the act is essentially the same.”

I hold to that to this day.

In my upcoming novel “Just a Touch,” I have a couple getting together, and it’s normal to expect a young man and woman will have sex. The small portion of chapter 7 presented in this post was crafted after much thought (and experience). Sex for a new couple can be vigorous and spontaneous. Keeping in mind, the sexual act is a minefield of emotions, expectations, and respect for the other participant. It has serious emotional and cultural consequences for both parties.

Tey and Kalana are in his studio apartment on the eighteenth floor in Makaha, on the island of Oahu in Hawaii.

(Side note: I lived on the fourteenth floor of the complex for 3.5 years)

This scene is their second coming together before she and a friend go to Tahiti to attend a surfing contest at Teahupo’o.

You might ask: It’s established that they got together before this scene. With your beliefs regarding sexual scenes, why get them into bed a second time?

I’m the author and I’m trying to make a point, and to put a human face on it.

The story for “Just a Touch” deals with highly emotional social issues. In telling the story, I highlight Tey and Kalana’s coming together to make the point more personal and enhance the overall point.

Four take-out containers for Chinese, two pairs of chopsticks, and two glasses of wine were on the stone tiles, the only spectators to Tey and Kalana’s lovemaking. They started on the bed, ending up sprawled on the floor. They held each other, bare skin against bare skin, against cold stone.

They were in each other’s sights for a year, passing in the concourse, standing in line at Starbucks in the inter-island terminal, circling each other, and now sharing an orbit.

“You can finish dinner now,” Kalana laughs.

“I thought I just had dessert.”

Kalana lays her head on his stomach. “Laying naked on the floor is freedom. My mother would cringe if I ever told her.”

“I suspect you’re not going to,” Tey said.

“I’m a rebel that way.”

Interiority

I’ve been accused of using too many physical movements when writing my characters. “It’s distracting and unnecessary,” I’ve heard many times. The concept of show and don’t tell has been flung at me by teachers and writing coaches.

I was pushed to use dialog to tell the details of my stories rather than long bloviated passages. I’ve come to like the use of dialog, but it can get tedious, even for me. I was reprimanded every time I went into depth, going into a characters mind to let him/her show emotion. It’s part of the story telling, and it’s part of character development. I want my readers to experience what is going on with my characters, and sometimes that involves body movements. I also use short descriptions regarding the things people do in conversation. I keep it down to 4-6 words (6 word story), and It helps to break up blocks of dialog. Moderation is the keyword, and I keep reminding myself.

Earlier this year I put Lies, Deception, and the Stealing of Wealth out for reviews. Unpaid reviews are difficult to come by, but I got two offers.

One review of a portion of Lies, Deception, and the Stealing of Wealth used a different word to describe my writing. It was a word I’d not heard before.

INTERIORITY

Here is a portion of that review:

“… I loved the interiority you crafted within Jessica’s POV. I felt like I was inside her head in the best way possible. She is a well-defined character with clear wants and needs, and your prose at large is in great shape …”

I researched the word Interiority and came across a website (I will post it at the end of this article) that discusses its meaning and use of this new (to me) concept. It was like the shackles were loosened (not removed), and I could express my style with some restraint.

Very basically, Interiority is: “a characters thoughts, feelings, reactions, and inner struggles, and how we access them, and we present them on the page.”

In this blog, I will present an early version of a portion of Chapter 3 of my upcoming novel “Just a Touch”. Following that version will be the latest version, under the influence of Interiority.

This is the latest version –

Tey rose through the surface of sleep, and his eyes opened to the first glow of morning light. There was a different scent and the gravity of a new orbit. 

Long strands of brown hair spread over the pillowcase next to him, and fingernails with a dusty pink color played a melody on his skin. He watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the hazel eyes that probed his eyes. A covert smile on her lips told him she enjoyed her evening.

First mornings were often messy, awkward, and entrenched in doubt. Both parties are unsure, quietly assessing, and holding off on apologies.

He has a sense about this girl, and he gently pulls her face to his and kisses her. She giggles through the kiss and pulls their lips tighter. She tastes like sea salt and mornings in spring.

“I like the silver jewelry against your brown skin,” Tey gently pushed a hoop earring with his finger.

“My mother is a descendant of Hopi indians. I fell in love with the jewelry. You know, silver and turquoise.”

“It looks good on you.” Tey pulled her against him.

“Mmmm, this is nice,” Kalana began. “I enjoyed last night.”

“I did too.” Tey said.

“Why do you live in Makaha? I never realized how remote and private it is out here.”

“I like the seclusion. I’ve never been a big city guy. It’s quiet out here.”

“Susanna says this is your remote hide-a-way where you bring your dates. Has she been here?”

“No.” He smirks, “I live on Maui. This place is for long days, and waiting for a late flight home.”

Kalana’s eyes graze on Tey’s face, silently asking for more.

“I brought Kailani up here once, but only once.”

“Is that her puka necklace in the bathroom cubby?”

Tey’s fingertips glide over her cheek. “You’ve been snooping already.”

“How could I miss it,” Kalana smiles behind a giggle. “It was the first thing I saw in the bathroom.”

“I brought Kailani here once,” he repeated. “She must have left it there.”

“Only once?” she asked. “Is there any other competition?”

“Are you excited about going to Tahiti?” Tey ignored her question.

“Yes. I was hoping Joāo would ask you to fly us there. We could have so much fun.”

“He changed my local flight to a return flight from Canberra.”

“Return flight? All the way from Australia?” Kalana asked.

“Yeah. Qantas is one of our route partners. I’ll fly there in the third seat, and pilot the return.”

“Is it a cargo flight?”

“No. Only passengers from Tonga and Fiji.” Tey shakes his head. “Joāo wants me to list it as a cargo flight. I don’t know why, but I’m short hours for my cross country rating.”

Here is the original version of the passage:

Tey awakes to soft morning light, a new scent, and the gravity of a new orbit. There were long strands of brown hair on the pillow next to him. He watches the gentle rise and fall of her chest,  a resting place for long brown strands to rest. Her hazel eyes were probing him, Kalana was watching him, and the covert smile on her lips told him she enjoyed her evening. He gently pulls her face to him and kisses her. She tastes like sea salt and mornings in spring.

“I like the silver jewelry against your brown skin,” Tey gently pushed a hoop earring with his finger.

“My mother is a descendant of Hopi indians. I fell in love with the jewelry. You know, silver and turquoise.”

“It looks good on you.” Tey pulled her against him.

“Mmmm, this is nice,” Kalana began. “I enjoyed last night.”

“I did too.” Tey said.

“Why do you live in Makaha? I never realized how remote and private it is.”

“I like the seclusion. I’ve never been a big city guy. It’s quiet out here.”

“Susanna says this is your remote hide-a-way where you bring your dates. Has she been here?”

“No.”

Kalana’s eyes graze on Tey’s face, asking for more without words.

“I brought Kailani up here once. But only once.”

“Is that her puka necklace in the bathroom towel cubby?”

Tey’s fingertips glide over her cheek. “You’ve been snooping already.”

“How could I miss it,” Kalana smiles behind a giggle. “It was the first thing I saw in the bathroom.”

“I brought Kailani up here once,” he repeated. “She must have left it there.”

“Only once?” she asked.

“Are you excited about going to Tahiti?” Tey ignored her question.

“Yes. I was hoping Joāo would ask you to fly us there. We could have so much fun.”

“He changed my local flight to a return flight from Canberra.”

“Return flight? All the way from Australia?” Kalana asked.

“Yeah. Qantas is one of our route partners. I’ll fly in the third seat over and pilot the return.”

“Is it a cargo flight?”

“No. Passengers from Tonga and Fiji.” Tey shakes his head. “Joāo wants me to list it as a cargo flight. I’m short hours on my cross country rating for multi-engine.”

The difference is subtle. I did choose some other words, but I let some physical action describe emotions. It’s been a liberating to a degree, but I know that I have to keep an eye on going too far.

The article I read was: “How to Write Emotions in a Story”, by Mary Kole. Her website is: https// http://www.kidlit.com.

Ready to Publish

It was an exciting and busy weekend. I formatted Lies, Deception and posted the paperback and ebook versions. The cover art was refined and looks much better thanks to snooping through some book stores.

Before the actual launch I’m doing some advance marketing and requesting reviewers. And then, I will launch both versions!

Descriptions and a Six-Word Story

When is enough enough, and when is enough too much?

This is similar to the opening line in Lies, Deception, and the Stealing of Wealth.

There is never enough. There will never be enough until there is too much.

The former is a question. It asks, “How do I know when I have enough?”

The latter is a statement that says, in short, I’ll tell you when there is too much.

This brings me to the point of this blog, a turning point in my writing.

I asked Coach to assist me in writing a new novel (Lies, Deception). I did this because I knew my writing needed something (actually more than just something).

Coach  gave me several tasks to perform, and I did. I wanted to write what people would like to read.

One of the tasks we worked on during our monthly Zoom meeting was something known as a Six-Word Story. This concept is credited to Ernest Hemingway, who won a bet by writing: “For sale: baby shoes. Never worn.”

I struggled with this at first, but after reading what other authors have written, I decided to take a closer look at its importance.

Writing descriptions can get out of hand, at least for me. We were discussing how I write descriptions and she says, “You’re an architect. You see everything. Just give our reader enough to finish painting the picture.

After a lot of effort, I’ve put the concept into practice.

The following is a small section from Lies, Deception, and the Stealing of Wealth. The descriptions aren’t exactly six words, but it’s a step forward for me.

Cisco heard the silky vibration of guitar strings.

Tones in rhythm, notes plucked like sweet fruits in a Fall orchard. The music is fluid, and the air of their bedroom thick with a syrup of notes and chords.

The morning sun flared between the edges of the blinds, streaking into the room, and he reached across the mattress, fingers searching for the warm touch of Angelina.

Eyelids barely opened, his senses rebounding from slumber, and sleep lurking within the margins of his thoughts.

He heard the metallic snap of the latch on the front door and his eyes opened wider.

She let me sleep late today.

Listening for his lover, he sat up. “Angel, is that you?”

“You slept late,” her voice, deep and gentle, a welcome migrant wandering up the stair.

Angelina was pulling items from the cabinet and arranging ingredients on the counter as he stepped into the kitchen.

“Someone gave me a workout last night,” he laughs as his fingers trace the outline of her body.

“We barely touched each other last week, I thought it was time to remind you how it works,” her words in excess of a whisper.

“Thank you.” He pulled her hair from her ear and kissed her neck.

“Mmm,” she giggles. “You were sleeping like my sister Sienna. I knew the smell of breakfast would get your engine going.” She pulled her body against his and kissed his lips. Angelina was a different woman this morning, flirty, seductive, more like the girl he knew in their early days.

I think it’s better than my previous tendency to bloviate.