Bryce Moore's Blog, page 125

Five Movie Travel Day

[image error]Hello! Remember me? I’m back from vacationland. Busy as all get out today (of course), but it’s high time I posted an entry on ze blog, right? Right. Since I’m swamped, I’m going with something easy today. I traveled back yesterday, and I watched five (count ’em, five) movies on the way. So here are my reviews of the films I watched. (Most telling? Justice League was available to watch. I didn’t even bother watching it when I had nothing else I could be doing at all. That’s how little I really care about most DC franchise films these days. What a sorry state of affairs.)

Anyway, here we go:

The Post. Definitely the best of the five movies I watched. Based on the real events of how the Pentagon Papers came to be published in the Washington Post. Meryl Streep, Tom Hanks, Steven Spielberg. Soundtrack by John Williams. I’d been meaning to watch it since it came out, and I was so happy to have the chance to do so. Very interesting to see the parallels between the Nixon administration and today’s. Plus, I’m a real sucker for a good newspaper movie. (Spotlight comes to mind right away.) 9/10
Chappaquiddick. Did not like. It’s about the historical incident in Ted Kennedy’s past, where he drove a car off a bridge by accident, killing the passenger in his car, and then failed to report it at all for hours and hours while he worried more about how to handle the political fall out. It was a film about people behaving abysmally for two straight hours. Well executed, I suppose, but I couldn’t stand the skewed moral compass, and in the end I wish I’d watched something else. 3/10.
Tomb Raider. The new one. I watched it to get Chappaquiddick out of my head. It does what it says it will. Probably one of the best video game adaptations I can remember watching, but it’s still an adaptation of Tomb Raider. Much less sexualized than the earlier versions. Some very good action scenes that don’t care too much about plot. “Get Lara Croft into a tomb, then have her raid it.” Add in some backstory here and there, and Bob’s your uncle. Diverting. Probably not best suited for a small airplane screen. (Duh.) 6/10.
The Commuter. The one thing I have learned over my time watching Liam Neeson movies is that if I’m ever on a train, plane, or even just see him in public anywhere, I will run (not walk) in the other direction. In this one, he’s just a random commuter (ex-cop, of course) who’s charged with finding a person on a train or else his family dies. (Of course.) It was fine. Predictable, but okay. 5/10. (Probably could have been a higher rating if it didn’t feel like every other Liam Neeson movie out there in that vein.)
Logan Lucky. This, on the other hand, was a delight. Of course, it’s already up my alley, since it’s a heist movie about a bunch of hicks who decide to rob a speedway. Played for comedic effect. Starring Channing Tatum, Adam Driver, and Daniel Craig. Directed by Steven Soderbergh. A really fun soundtrack, super plot, and just a blast. An easy 9/10 for me. But at that point, my mind was also mush, so perhaps my grading skewed accordingly.

Anyway, Thanks for reading. Glad to be back!

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Like what you’ve read? Please consider supporting me on Patreon. Thanks to all my Patrons who support me! It only takes a minute or two, and then it’s automatic from there on out. I’ve been posting my book ICHABOD in installments, as well as chapters from UTOPIA. Check it out.

If you’d rather not sign up for Patreon, you can also support the site by clicking the MEMORY THIEF Amazon link on the right of the page. That will take you to Amazon, where you can buy my books or anything else. During that visit, a portion of your purchase will go to me. It won’t cost you anything extra.

Chinese Illustrations for THE MEMORY THIEF

[image error]I know I said I was taking a break from blogging, but imagine my surprise the other morning when I got an email about the upcoming printing of THE MEMORY THIEF in Chinese. I’d posted the cover a few months ago, which was exciting and different. Unknown to me, my Chinese publisher also decided to commission a series of illustrations for the book as well.

Better yet, I get to share them with you . . . now!

Illustrations THE MEMORY THIEF by Bryce Moore

I think these are beautiful. So cool to see their interpretation of some of these scenes, noticing how they depicted details, from the ghost of Louis to Genevieve’s tattoos.

I can’t wait to see the edition in print!

Anyway. I’m now going back on hiatus. Thanks for reading!

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Like what you’ve read? Please consider supporting me on Patreon. Thanks to all my Patrons who support me! It only takes a minute or two, and then it’s automatic from there on out. I’ve been posting my book ICHABOD in installments, as well as chapters from UTOPIA. Check it out.

If you’d rather not sign up for Patreon, you can also support the site by clicking the MEMORY THIEF Amazon link on the right of the page. That will take you to Amazon, where you can buy my books or anything else. During that visit, a portion of your purchase will go to me. It won’t cost you anything extra.

A Family is a Solar System

[image error]Today marks the last full day I’ll be at home without my family. That’s definitely a good thing. A house is a very empty thing when you’re used to having four other people living in it. It’s not been too much fun to be by myself all this time, though there have been a few things I’ve observed in the week and a half.

First off, families take up a lot of time in ways you just don’t notice day in, day out. There are expectations in a family. It’s a team sport, so to speak. There are bedtimes to orchestrate, dinners to arrange, chores to coordinate, and personal goals to achieve. In a way, a family is like a solar system. Each planet has its own set of moons, its own orbit, its own climate and troubles. When things run smoothly, then all is in its right balance, and it all works out. When some of that goes off in an unexpected direction, it can upset everything else.

(Which leads me to wonder, of course, what the family revolves around. While I’d love to say “Me,” that wouldn’t be accurate at all. I think the family revolves around the shared idea of what the family goals are. In our family, it’s a shared sense of responsibility and love. Those are the things that keep yanking us back to gravitational center whenever one of us starts heading off in a new direction. A family that revolves around any one person is more of an entourage than an actual family unit.)

When all those little planets are gone, it’s amazing how easy it is to do whatever you want. It was 8:30, and I needed something from the store, so I just hopped in the and got it. I didn’t need to check with anyone. Didn’t need to worry about abandoning any obligations. I was wholly in charge of my schedule, so I knew what needed doing and when.

I’ve gotten a lot done in the week and a half. I’ve basically done it by making a huge To Do list and then crossing things off it one by one, rewarding myself with video games. I could play another 15 minutes if I got another item on the list done. That sort of thing.) But I’ve also been able to do so much because there’s so much more time available to me. Dinner has been really easy. I just eat cold oatmeal every night. That meant I didn’t have to cook, and I didn’t have to do any dishes. Normally we eat dinner as a family, taking time to watch something together or talk together. But I just ate whenever I felt like it, usually pairing it up with a quick video game session.

So many of the obligations of a family come on you one at a time, spread out over years. Marriage. Children. Home ownership. When I go away for a conference I don’t notice those obligations being gone, because there are plenty of other things there to keep me busy. The same is true on vacations. But when the whole family leaves at once, you can’t help but notice it.

It’s pretty lonely.

But that’s done now, for the most part. I’ve got a ton to get ready before I leave. This is likely my last blog post for a while, as I’ll be off gallivanting around Europe. There’s a chance I’ll pop in here and there to say something, but it’s doubtful. Have an excellent rest of your summer, and I’ll see you toward the end of August!

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Like what you’ve read? Please consider supporting me on Patreon. Thanks to all my Patrons who support me! It only takes a minute or two, and then it’s automatic from there on out. I’ve been posting my book ICHABOD in installments, as well as chapters from UTOPIA. Check it out.

If you’d rather not sign up for Patreon, you can also support the site by clicking the MEMORY THIEF Amazon link on the right of the page. That will take you to Amazon, where you can buy my books or anything else. During that visit, a portion of your purchase will go to me. It won’t cost you anything extra.

Wood Stacking Your Way Through Life

[image error]When Denisa left last week, I knew I had several things I wanted to get done before I had to head over to Europe myself. Near the top of the list? Stack two cord of wood so it can season properly for winter. It had been dumped in a big pile in front of one of our garage doors, and I wanted to be able to park the car there before I left, as well.

Stacking wood isn’t a glamorous job. It’s not particularly difficult, and you have a very good idea of what it will take to complete it before you begin. Each piece of wood in the pile needs to be picked up, moved, and stacked somewhere else. Hardly rocket science.

But starting a chore like that can be a real pain, especially when you know you’ll be doing it by yourself. (Typically I have children around to set to the task.)

When I’m in a situation like that, I used to let it overwhelm me. I’d look at the amount of work that needs to be done and feel like it was was far too much for me to handle just yet. Procrastination would kick in, and before I knew it, I’d be under the gun and scrambling to finish the job in time.

These days, I approach it the same way I approach writing a novel.

The first step is to figure out how much time I have. If I’m under a deadline, things change a fair bit. For this, I knew I had about nine days to stack the wood. So a deadline, but nothing insurmountable.

My next step is to do a bit of the work and gauge how long it takes. What’s a good amount I can do easily, without having to worry about it too much? For wood stacking, I have a lawn cart I use to get the job done. I fill it up with wood, pull it over to the new spot, and unload it. I did that once and estimated how big of a dent that made on the stack. Nothing huge, but then again, it hadn’t taken me more than 5 minutes to do. I did it four more times, doing a bit of quick math in my head as I progressed.

Experience had taught me a cord of wood is around 18 loads of my lawn cart. Two cord would be 36. Five loads took less than a half hour, and while I was a bit sweaty, it was nothing I was too worried about. 9 days, 5 loads a day, would equal out to 45 loads. Well over what I’d need.

So that was what I did. Each day, I’d go out for 25 minutes or so and do 5 loads with my lawn cart. Sure, some of the days I didn’t feel like doing it, but even on those days, I could tell myself it was just 5 loads. What’s the big deal? And I’d get them done. I finished the job yesterday.

I’ve been doing the same thing as I clean the house while they’re away. It’s the same thing I do when I’m writing. I know from experience 1,000 words isn’t too terribly much for me to get done in a day. (It used to be 500 words way back when, but I increased it a long time ago to keep pushing myself.) Sure, there are days I don’t want to do it, but even on those days, I can tell myself it’s just 1,000 words. Sometimes I’ll even break that down further. It’s just 100 words, ten times.

I find that when I handle big jobs like that, a piece each day, I am much more effective than when I get overwhelmed by a task all at once. Sure, sometimes I don’t have that luxury. There’s a deadline that needs to be met. But when possible, this is the one trick I use to get just about anything done.

Tiny bites. Little loads. They add up over time.

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Like what you’ve read? Please consider supporting me on Patreon. Thanks to all my Patrons who support me! It only takes a minute or two, and then it’s automatic from there on out. I’ve been posting my book ICHABOD in installments, as well as chapters from UTOPIA. Check it out.

If you’d rather not sign up for Patreon, you can also support the site by clicking the MEMORY THIEF Amazon link on the right of the page. That will take you to Amazon, where you can buy my books or anything else. During that visit, a portion of your purchase will go to me. It won’t cost you anything extra.

Does That Make Sense?

[image error]When I was teaching my fiction workshop a few weeks ago, we were in the second class, critiquing each other’s works. I was giving my impressions of one piece, and a student commented, “You say ‘Does that make sense’ a lot.” It didn’t really have a lot to do with the critique I was giving at the moment, so I didn’t think too much about it, but then I started to catch myself saying that phrase a ton. She was right.

I *do* say “Does that make sense” a lot.

So of course the question I asked myself was, “Why?”

And as I’ve thought through it for the past week and a half or so, I think there are a couple of reasons for it. The biggest one is that I feel a continual drive to be a sensible person. One who thinks things through and makes reasoned decisions. I’m not typically obsessed with being right or wrong, so long as the arguments I make have a solid foundation. This is in large part due to the fact that I don’t believe there’s often a right or wrong answer to a question. There are multiple viewpoints, some of them more valid than others, based primarily on the issue of whether those viewpoints can be justified.

If I’m not making sense, then I like to know it. Or even if I’m perceived to not be making sense. I still reserve the right to evaluate the criticism and decide if it’s justified or not, but it’s important to me to hear it in the first place.

The second reason I think I use the phrase a fair bit is in an attempt to be polite. Asking “Does that make sense” allows me to rephrase a statement if it comes off in a way I didn’t intend. It gives the person I’m speaking to a chance to feel comfortable objecting to something I’ve said. Since I was in a situation where I was critiquing a series of fiction submissions by high school students, I was on my best behavior, trying to walk the line between being too nice and being too critical, and that overloaded my “be nice” vocabulary, so I just fell back on the ol’ “Does that make sense” approach.

There are other phrases I catch myself overusing. “Bluntly put.” “Jiminy Christmas.” I’m sure there are more. I suppose we all have our go-to phrases. When I write, they’re easier to catch, and I go through and mix things up more. But when I speak, I fall back on familiar words in an attempt to communicate as quickly and easily as possible.

Does that make sense?

What are some of the phrases you over-use? Have you ever had someone call you out on one?

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Like what you’ve read? Please consider supporting me on Patreon. Thanks to all my Patrons who support me! It only takes a minute or two, and then it’s automatic from there on out. I’ve been posting my book ICHABOD in installments, as well as chapters from UTOPIA. Check it out.

If you’d rather not sign up for Patreon, you can also support the site by clicking the MEMORY THIEF Amazon link on the right of the page. That will take you to Amazon, where you can buy my books or anything else. During that visit, a portion of your purchase will go to me. It won’t cost you anything extra.

Adventures in Freezer Jam

[image error]When we moved into our house, Denisa immediately looked at the property and thought “fruit trees.” Not that we had any fruit trees at the time, but she bought some saplings and planted them, and in the intervening 11 years, she’s faithfully pruned them (or had someone help her prune them some years), cared for them, and watched them. The one thing she generally hasn’t been able to do is harvest them. We’ve got apple trees and a cherry tree and a couple other trees that I’ve been told are fruit trees, but I haven’t personally seen any real fruit come off them, so I remain unconvinced.

Up until last year, the apple trees put out maybe 5 apples total. The cherry tree fell into the “I don’t think that’s actually a fruit tree” category.

Until this year, when the cherry tree when crazy. Cherries all over the place. And cherries are one of Denisa’s favorite fruit. Naturally, that meant she ended up leaving the country right as the cherries were getting ripe. She had time to pick a few and make a single cake with them, and that was all.

I’ve always been quite clear with my intentions for our property. I mow the lawn, and that’s about it. I’ve been known to rototill a garden now and then, but I don’t think Denisa would ever say anything like “Bryce does a lot of yard work.” It just doesn’t happen. That’s her department. And so when she was gearing up to head off to Europe, she didn’t even really ask me to do anything with anything. Which was fine by me.

But I’ve been out stacking wood. (Two cord this year. Not much. I’m doing five carts a day, which only takes like 25 minutes. Easy.) And that meant I was out next to that cherry tree day after day. Noticing those cherries. Thinking about all the years Denisa has waited for those cherries to actually exist.

Which is how I found myself up in that cherry tree two days ago, picking as many as I could reach. I’m such a sucker.

In the end, I got about two gallons of cherries. There were still a number up high that I couldn’t get to, but I figured the birds could handle those. The next question was what to do with all of them. Even I realized these cherries would be no good if they just stayed in the fridge for a month.

Denisa makes freezer jam all the time with all sorts of fruit. Would that work for cherries? A bit of googling, and I found out I had sour cherries on my hands, and that yes, they make good freezer jam. But I had it in my head that I needed plastic jars for freezer jam. I had no plastic jars. So at 9 o’clock two nights ago, I went to Walmart. It’s a big store. They had to have those jars there, right?

Wrong. No plastic jars. I tried the grocery store too. No plastic jars. So I bought stuff to make regular jam.

At that point, I figured it was time to call in the experts. I mentioned it to Denisa, and she said she just uses glass jars. Go figure. I had plenty of those. Last night, Operation Cherry Jam began.

I know a lot of you do stuff like this all of the time. You could probably make freezer jam while you danced the polka. I, on the other hand, have never made any sort of jam. There was a lot of me looking things up online and checking the recipe. I needed 5 cups of cherries, finely diced. Do you measure the cherries before you dice them, or after? I started with before, but then I switched to after. I’m still not sure which is right.

Pitting the cherries was a big pain at first. Supposedly you can take a bobby pin and do it “easily.” I couldn’t find a bobby pin, so I tried a chopstick. It sent juice everywhere. In the end, I went with the brute force approach. I was going to chop these cherries up anyway, so what did I care what they looked like? I just squeezed the pits out, one at a time, using my hands to keep the juice from going everywhere. It worked. (Mostly.)

But those cherries had a lot of juice in them. Especially after I did 5 cups’ worth. Was I supposed to include the juice in the jam, or not? I ended up including it.

The actual jam recipe was pretty easy. You just mixed sugar with this powder stuff, then added the cherries (and juice?), stirred for three minutes, and stuck it into jars. No need to even heat anything up. In the end, I had 4 jars of “jam.” It was pretty liquidy, and I had no idea if it would set or not. You’re supposed to leave it out of the fridge for a half hour, then put it in the fridge for 24 hours, and then into the freezer.

This morning when I checked the jam: success! It had set. So at the very least I made a jam-like substance. I have no idea if it tastes good or not. I have my doubts. But the cherries were used.

As for the remaining cherries? I stuck them all on a baking tray and froze them. Doing another batch of jam just wasn’t in the cards for me.

Will I make freezer jam again? Possibly, I suppose. The whole process took about an hour and a half, including clean up, which isn’t terrible. But the big thing for me is that you can go to this place called “the store” and buy jam there. I would rather buy the nicest jam I could than do that freezer jam thing again.

But for Denisa? For those cherries she’s been wanting for so long? I guess I’ve got a soft spot there.

Here’s hoping it actually tastes good. And that next year, we get cherries again, and Denisa is here to jam ’em up.

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Like what you’ve read? Please consider supporting me on Patreon. Thanks to all my Patrons who support me! It only takes a minute or two, and then it’s automatic from there on out. I’ve been posting my book ICHABOD in installments, as well as chapters from UTOPIA. Check it out.

If you’d rather not sign up for Patreon, you can also support the site by clicking the MEMORY THIEF Amazon link on the right of the page. That will take you to Amazon, where you can buy my books or anything else. During that visit, a portion of your purchase will go to me. It won’t cost you anything extra.

When Things Go According to Plan: Tree Edition

[image error]You’ll recall a few weeks ago, a big part of the huge silver maple in my backyard fell down, knocking out my power. (Actually, it looks like that’s already been 1.5 months!) In the aftermath, we looked around at various tree services, finally settling on Hidden Hills Tree Service. They gave us a *much* better estimate and committed to cutting and splitting the wood from the tree for us as well. (When you burn wood and have a big tree fall down on your property, you might as well get some BTUs out of it, right?)

Even then, we still had to arrange for the power company to come and drop the power line so the work could be done, and that took much more finessing than we anticipated. They’re busy people in the summer, it seems. There was one morning that they had open until mid-August, so it was then or much later.

Thankfully, the stars all aligned for that one day to work. However, it was also yesterday, the day I had to be in Orono for a library development day. Denisa’s gone to Slovakia with the kids, so all of this would have to happen without anyone there to make sure it all went smoothly.

I left in the morning, hoping that

The power company would come as promised at 8am to drop the line
Hidden Hills would come to cut down the tree
No trees would fall on my house or anything else important
The power company would come back to hook the power back up at 2pm

The whole time I was in Orono, I was checking my phone, waiting for the call that told me things weren’t working. The phone never rang.

I came home at 5:00pm to find this:

[image error] [image error]

For once, it all went as planned. I didn’t have to do anything or be involved at all. It was wonderful. Our birdhouse took a direct hit, knocking the steeple off, but I’m okay with that.

Today, if all goes according to plan, the cutting and splitting will happen. It’s raining, though, so I think there’s a chance that gets delayed.

Still, it’s great to have down. I’m really surprised just how sunny the back yard is now. That tree was very large. I’m sad it had to go, really. I’m a fan of trees, but it had to happen. We’ve been worried since we moved in that it might hit our house or drop a limb on a child. That worry is gone now. Looking at the interior of the wood, it’s clear it had quite a few problems. Lots of bugs and rot.

Anyway, here’s to things working as intended for once. (Knock on wood.)

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Like what you’ve read? Please consider supporting me on Patreon. Thanks to all my Patrons who support me! It only takes a minute or two, and then it’s automatic from there on out. I’ve been posting my book ICHABOD in installments, as well as chapters from UTOPIA. Check it out.

If you’d rather not sign up for Patreon, you can also support the site by clicking the MEMORY THIEF Amazon link on the right of the page. That will take you to Amazon, where you can buy my books or anything else. During that visit, a portion of your purchase will go to me. It won’t cost you anything extra.

Flying Solo

[image error]Well, it’s official. I dropped off Denisa and the team at the bus station about an hour and a half ago. They’re off on their way to Slovakia. It’ll take them about 25 hours total to get there. (Drive to Augusta, bus to Boston, flight to Budapest by way of Zurich, taxi to the Budapest train station, train to Bratislava, drive to Trencin.) So if any of you want to spare some good thoughts for Denisa in the next day or so, I’m sure she could use any she can get.

I’ll follow later, but for now, I’m holding down the fort at home. As much as I wish I could just sit around eating brownies and binge watching Netflix all day, I have a number of things I’m going to at least try to get done.

Stack 2 cord of wood
Clean up the entire house
Speak at a Young Single Adult conference on Sunday (9:30am at UMF, if you want to come hear me)
Repair the damage the lightning strike did to my electronics. (Seriously not cool. I’ve discovered it essentially arc through the phone line into my DSL router, taking out my router, my printer’s network card, my VOIP, and my ethernet expander in one fell swoop. I’ve spent hours trying to fix all of those, but I think some just are beyond repair, and I’ll need to buy new. Sigh.)
Mow the lawn at least once
Keep on top of the other chores
Not get too lonely and depressed to get all the rest of that stuff done.

The final point is going to be the sticky one. I remember when Denisa left last time (seven years ago), there was a fair bit of moping that went on. It’s just a lot easier to be on my own when I’m out and about at conferences, with a ton of things I have to do, and new experiences to distract me. Being at home alone when my entire family is gone isn’t as much fun.

That said, I also remember there was one lovely difference: whenever I cleaned a room, it stayed clean. And then I only had to clean the mess I had made myself. I discovered before that I’ve generally become a much neater person. (Current condition of my office at work aside.) Or maybe I just felt like a messier person because of how often my kids would leave messes around the house.

Anyway. We’ll see if I can get all of that done. Wish me luck. (But more luck to Denisa, naturally.)

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Like what you’ve read? Please consider supporting me on Patreon. Thanks to all my Patrons who support me! It only takes a minute or two, and then it’s automatic from there on out. I’ve been posting my book ICHABOD in installments, as well as chapters from UTOPIA. Check it out.

If you’d rather not sign up for Patreon, you can also support the site by clicking the MEMORY THIEF Amazon link on the right of the page. That will take you to Amazon, where you can buy my books or anything else. During that visit, a portion of your purchase will go to me. It won’t cost you anything extra.

Unlikely TV Recommendation: GLOW

[image error]I have to start off this review with a very large disclaimer. There are a large number of you who will not like GLOW. Not because it’s a bad television show, but because the content is simply too adult. It’s rated TV-MA for good reason, so if that’s something that turns you away, then by all means turn.

On the surface, it seems an easy enough show to dismiss. A comedy-drama focused on the beginnings of GLOW (Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling) in the 1980s? It just sounds too preposterous to work. It sounds, quite frankly, terrible. As in “a show I would never watch.”

I’d heard good things around it, though. Great things, even. I heard it had great plots and writing, and super characters. That the setting and premise was more just background to tell a super story. I looked at the show once or twice on Netflix, just to see how it was described. No amount of “it’s really great though” could get me over that initial “This looks stupid” bump, however.

But then the second season came out, and I heard the same good things. The buzz was, it was even better than the first season. And it was nominated for an Emmy for best comedy series. And it racked up nominations for the Screen Actors Guild, Golden Globes, Writers Guild, and a slew of others.

That was enough for me to give it a shot, despite the content. My personal line is “I watch good media,” but “good” can mean a whole range of things. I pay a lot of attention to writing, directing, acting, character development, and the like. I want to watch and read artists at the top of their game. So I gave GLOW a shot. It’s a half hour per episode show. I could watch one episode and dismiss it.

Except it was un-dismiss-able. That one episode was pretty riveting. I breezed through both seasons in a week and a half. I gave the first season a 10/10. It was seriously That Good.

The humor is spot on. The characters are compelling. You really feel for these people far more than you have any right to. Because while the ladies wrestling is the thing that brought all of them together, and it’s as over the top and ridiculous as you’d expect, in the end these are all people, each with their own story. They realize the wrestling is outlandish, but for each of them, it’s really their last hope at having something like a job or a life.

For example, we first meet one main character as she tries to land an acting job. Any acting job. She takes her craft very seriously, commiserating about it with her best friend, who’s also an actress. She’s failing, however. And then we see she’s had an affair with a married man. And then we see who exactly that man is married to. In the space of a half hour.

I don’t want to say much more than that. If this sounds like it might be something up your alley, it almost definitely is. I gave the second season a 9/10, by the way. It had a touch of a rocky start for me, but it ended even stronger than the first. Just really fantastic television.

Already seen it? I’d love to hear what you think.

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Like what you’ve read? Please consider supporting me on Patreon. Thanks to all my Patrons who support me! It only takes a minute or two, and then it’s automatic from there on out. I’ve been posting my book ICHABOD in installments, as well as chapters from UTOPIA. Check it out.

If you’d rather not sign up for Patreon, you can also support the site by clicking the MEMORY THIEF Amazon link on the right of the page. That will take you to Amazon, where you can buy my books or anything else. During that visit, a portion of your purchase will go to me. It won’t cost you anything extra.

First Book, First Chapter, Sixth Draft

[image error]I blogged yesterday about the first draft of the first chapter of the first book I ever took a real stab at. Today, I want to share what the first chapter looked like after I’d worked on it for a few years. This is from the sixth draft. (The last one I did.)

Right off, you’ll notice the biggest change: it’s actually in-scene. Early on I struggled with narrating too much. Instead of actually showing the action unfold, I would have my narrator talk about it unfolding. It’s like the difference between watching an episode of your favorite TV show and watching a character from your favorite TV show summarize that episode.

Being in scene is, generally, much better.

Other differences abound. As I recall, I lopped off a ton from the beginning of the book, so this probably takes place whole chapters later in the first draft. Real revision is like that. Huge, big, text-altering changes. It’s not spell checking or running a grammar check. It’s fixing the story and making it as good as possible.

Anyway. Hopefully this is interesting to you. Have a great weekend!

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Chapter One

Into the Elevator

 

Dad shook me awake. “Get up, honey—it’s time to go.”

The sun was already out—I had overslept. “Already?” I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.

“What do you mean already? I’ve let you sleep in an hour longer than I said you could. What time did you go to bed last night?”

The memory of the key adventure came rushing back. “I can’t remember,” I lied. “Can’t I sleep a bit longer?” We wouldn’t be going anywhere, anyway.

“Are you kidding? Come on. Out of bed, or else I’ll have Jacob come wake you up.” He smiled as he left the room.

That was playing dirty—threatening to turn Jacob loose on me. He’d probably try dousing me with water. I grumbled as I sat up, resigned to the fact that I’d at least have to get going, even if I didn’t have to go off to Magnifica. I didn’t change out of my pajamas—that would have required admitting this might work, after all. I had packed my bags last night before I had taken matters into my own hands. Now that things were taken care of, I could afford to be more casual. I slipped on some flip flops, put my hair up with a clip and went downstairs until the key was found “missing.” At the back of my head, though, there was a little voice asking if the key had won, after all. I was tired enough to ignore it.

Dad was running around like a madman—taking out the trash, making sure the dishes were done. We had an okay house, but it was known to have cockroaches. I lay down on the couch and tried to sleep some more until Dad came and prodded me.

“Jacob. Jacob!” Dad yelled upstairs to my brother. If I knew Jacob, he was upstairs trying to cram in some last minute time on the computer. He practically lived on strategy games—he claimed he was pretty good at them. Like I cared. What was the point in proving you were better than some machine? It wasn’t like he was going to be directing any armies any time soon.

After a few minutes—just enough time to shut down a computer—I heard Jacob come bounding down the stairs.

“Come on—we’re ready.” My dad prodded me again, and I opened my eyes. He had a sport jacket and tie on. On another man, they might have looked flashy and hip. On my dad, they emphasized his growing belly and lack of hair. He had put on weight since Mom’s death, and his hair was definitely not as dark as it used to be. He looked at me. “Aren’t you going to wear something more appropriate?”

“Come on, Dad—you aren’t actually going through with this, are you? I mean—trying to travel somewhere by elevator? Who do you think you are—Willy Wonka?”

“Oh get over it, Suze,” Jacob said from his corner of the room. “You’re a girl—why don’t you act like it?”

“Listen, Jake—I don’t need the whole feminine lecture from you again, alright? You can—”

“Enough you two,” said Dad. “In the car—no more questions.”

The next thing I knew I was sitting in the back seat in my pajamas, having not gotten ready at all and on my way to the Holiday Inn. This wasn’t how it was supposed to work. What had happened to the key?

“Uh, Dad?”

“Yeah?” He was right in front of me in the driver’s seat, and he looked at me in the rear view mirror.

“Do we have everything?”

“Sure do.”

“Everything everything?”

“Yes—I even made a list. We didn’t forget anything.”

“You have my suitcase?”

“Yes.”

“And my backpack?”

“Yes—and you should thank Jacob for hauling all that stuff out to the car for you.”

Jacob, up front in the passenger seat, turned around and stuck his tongue out.

I rolled my eyes. “Grade school, Jake—very. What would Tiffany say if your face stuck that way?” He was a year older than my fifteen, but he only acted it when he was around people he wanted to impress. I hadn’t been one of them since elementary school.

“What would you know, lazy? Next time I’ll throw your junk out with the trash.”

“Right.” I looked back at Dad. “You got the key?”

Dad paused for a moment and turned to Jacob. “Do you still have the key?”

Jacob sat there and looked clueless—he stuck to his strengths. “You didn’t give me the key.” He lay back in his seat and shoved his baseball hat down over his eyes. If he ever took the time to dress right, he might have had potential—as long as he didn’t speak. T shirts and jeans weren’t a great fashion statement, though.

We pulled up to a red light and Dad started patting his pockets. I relaxed and got ready to go back to sleep while he patted some more. The car was already back to speed when Dad said, “Of course. I put it on my key ring. You had me really worried there for a minute, Susie.”

My eyes shot open as I lunged forward to look around my dad’s chair at the ignition. There on Dad’s key ring, right next to the cheesy “I love reading” charm, was the golden key, shining gleefully despite its tarnish. And it was in one piece. Last time I had seen it, I had just finished sawing it apart.

“Whoa! Are you a little nervous?” Dad asked as I realized my face was practically right next to his.

Jacob elbowed me in the side. “Sit back, doofus—you’re waking me up.”

I leaned back, dejected. “Where—Where did you find it?”

“On the kitchen counter,” said Dad. “It took me a minute—I thought I’d put it in the bathroom. But there it was, right in the open. Isn’t that like me?”

I laughed weakly. “Go figure.” What was I supposed to do now? The Holiday Inn was about a half hour away, but with the key on the key ring, there was no way I was getting my hands on it. Even if I could, what would I do? Swallow it? It would reappear anyway.

Plan after plan went through my mind, each more outlandish than the one before. I could grab the keys from Dad’s hands and make a run for it before we entered the hotel. I could slam on the brakes now and throw the keys through a passing car window. Or I could get stuck in an elevator on my way to Magnifica. Which was the most likely possibility, assuming the key did its job. I could see the Holiday Inn sign peeking through the trees ahead.

The seconds rushed by, and I was still clueless. Worse yet, I was going to have to get out in public looking like some ogre in training. My hair was a mess, and I was in teddy bear pajamas. Pink teddy bears! Struggling with my dad in the parking lot over a key ring would make my crazy woman ensemble complete.

I felt like I was on a roller coaster, hearing the clinkety-clink as we got closer and closer to the top where all that waited was a big long drop to the bottom. And I wasn’t sure if there would be the invigorating swoosh back up once the bottom came. Dad opened the door and got out, Jacob right after him. I numbly got out myself, still conscious of how underdressed I was.  What in the world possessed me to buy let alone wear teddy bear pajamas? We unloaded our bags from the trunk, and I threw my backpack over my shoulder. I could run away and let Dad and Jacob deal with it, but the thought of my dad kicking back Prozac in the bathroom shattered that idea. He would need my support.

The automatic doors opened and closed behind us, and we made our way through the lobby, getting some weird stares from the front desk. They were used to people checking in first, I supposed. My dad pressed the up button, and I watched the digital numbers go down. 5 4 3 2 With a ding, the elevator doors opened to a green and tan, and we stepped inside. Now I could practically hear the sound. Clinkety clinkety. Dad got the key and looked for a hole. There it was, a janitor’s control below the button for the lobby. It was way too small for the skeleton key. This would never work—it was impossible. But so was a key reappearing and a package coming out of thin air. Dad reached over to put the key in.

“Wait!” I grabbed his hand, inches away from the keyhole.

“What is it?”

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” I was hysterical. “We don’t know—”

“Stop being silly—you’re imagining things. This probably won’t work anyway—that keyhole’s way too small. Here, look.” Dad shook free of my hand and touched the skeleton key to the hole. The metal around it seemed to melt and the key slid in as smooth as a knife into butter. Dad’s mouth dropped open and his hand jerked free from the key. It turned in the hole all by itself, and the button for floor 5 lit up. With a lurch the elevator started moving upwards. Clinkety clinkety—the top was getting near.

Even Jacob looked surprised by the recent turn of events—though he seemed more along the lines of the surprise you have when you open up a present and get an unexpected but long-hoped-for gift. Dad looked confused. Time seemed to slow down as we stared at the numbers—this time going up. 2. Clinkety clinkety clink. 3. I could stop this somehow. 4. I lunged for the key to take it from the lock, but it felt like my hand hit a brick wall inches before it could grasp the key. I cradled my arm to my body, surprised by the sudden pain. The elevator slowed down and halted with a jerk. 5. With a ding, the doors opened, and the noise in my head stopped.

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