Posts Tagged ‘Clarion West’

Nap nap 1

I started building models when I was a kid. At first I built cars and ships, but my sister, who was a tiny Megatron, would play with them and break them. I finally started building planes and spaceships because I could hang them from the ceiling. Some of them survive in my parents’ basement, forever suspended in mid-flight. My system worked!

After a few years of model-building and before I discovered the existence of that mysterious other gender, I tried mixing parts from different kits to make one model. It was fun to spread everything out on a table or on the floor and look for ways to rearrange the pieces. Actually, the fun was in the unexpected combinations, like adding the engines from the starship Enterprise to the wings of Gary Powers’ U-2 spy plane. I also did some experimenting with Army tanks and Rat Fink hot rods before switching to aviation.

Today in Write-a-thon World, I spent a lot of time rearranging my notes and some episodes I’d already written. I was fired up by some unexpected combinations. This has always been a good way for me to break out of a stall.

Actually, I have found what I’m writing for
I’m writing about working for a living in a place where your comrades are competent and engaged and your leaders are inspiring. It’s a fantasy novel.

Today in Deborah World
Special D rescued a lost dog named Rudy. Rudy is safely home this evening after his unexpected dinner-time adventure.

Random Pick of the Day
Fred Neil, The Many Sides of Fred Neil (1998)
As always, I am indebted to my loyal readers (all three of ’em). Loyal Readers Laurel and Darwin have entered a Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young phase. Their neighbors are either mystified, repelled, or rocking along with them.

Is it time for a re-evaluation? The stars are lining up! CSNY’s brand of folk-rock isn’t at the top of my list, but my readers have rarely steered me wrong, and I can’t deny the band’s signficance. Sure, it’s easy to laugh at these geriatrics. But everyone who stays around in rock for more than a generation becomes laughable. It goes with the territory. Rock is a young person’s game. (The same thing is true of idiot bloggers.)

I hesitated before plunging into the CSNY catalog. I love lots of those songs, but I wasn’t sure I could again face the sticky-sweet “Guinnevere,” or “Love the One You’re With,” which was ruined for me by the Ewoks who sing it at the end of Return of the Jedi, or “Marrakesh Express,” which should’ve been recorded by Muppets. How was I going to do this?

The way I do almost everything: by reading first. I almost immediately discovered something I didn’t know, rescued from the Citizen Kane-like warehouse of things I don’t know: the existence of folk-rocker Fred Neil (1936-2001). Stephen Stills cited him as a major influence. While I worked on my book today I listened to the 36 tracks on The Many Sides of Fred Neil, and wow, am I impressed. These songs, almost all of them from the ’60s, are almost all of them timeless. Add some instruments beyond Neil’s lone guitar and you could almost hear CSNY. On one song, “Look Over Yonder,”  an eight-minute jam in which Neil is essentially jamming with himself, you can hear the foundation of Neil Young’s “Down By the River”/“Cowgirl in the Sand.”

I’m not dissing other doomed male folksingers of the ’60s, but I like Fred Neil better than Tim Hardin, Tim Buckley, and Phil Ochs. And those are three interesting guys.

Neil’s biggest success was someone else’s: he wrote “Everybody’s Talkin’ ” (1966), the hit by Harry Nilsson from Midnight Cowboy. This afternoon, almost 50 years later, I finally heard the original. It’s raw, it’s powerful, I played it three times.

I’m ready for “Love the One You’re With.” As the Lone Ranger says to Tonto in their stupid new movie, “Let’s do this.”

The muse we really need

Today’s cartoon comes to us courtesy of noted Southern industrialist Jim Cobb. “Maybe you need this guy to help you finish your book,” Mr. Cobb says, and I can’t say I disagree. Duke Ellington once wrote, “I don’t need time. What I need is a deadline.” If I had a Muse like this one, or if I had a publisher waiting for a manuscript, I wouldn’t be struggling every day to turn out one good page. I wouldn’t be struggling at all, because I’d be terrified and the verb in the previous sentence would be “churn,” not “turn.”

Jim’s birthday was July 2, which is not a bad day for a birthday, though nowhere near as good as July 3.

I want a new drug
I had every intention of turning July 4 into a pretend-I’m-a-novelist day. I know that every novelist spends his or her working day (or night) differently, but here’s how I envisioned mine: Get up early, go for a brisk walk, eat a hearty breakfast, plow into my book for about four hours.

But it was my day off! And it was beautiful outside! The early part went out the window early, but we did manage the walk and the breakfast, along with a yard sale. I didn’t actually get going until 2. I eventually turned in 2.5 hours in the Write-a-thon.

If this is it
Just because you have a huge block of time ahead of you doesn’t mean you’ll use that huge block of time the way you’d originally planned. I’m accustomed to stealing time for my writing here and there. Like most writers, I do something else for a living, so my writing time is more hit-and-run than big productive blocks.

I wasn’t sure how to handle all those hours today. Writing is a muscle, and so is time management. You have to exercise them to keep them in shape. But by the time I got into the second hour I was getting my second wind. Overall, I’m happy with what I did today. I’m working a half-day tomorrow so I’ll try noveling for the other half. Get back in the zone, do some serious scaring, put up some big numbers.

You crack me up
Why am I using Huey Lewis & The Snooze songs for headlines? Because the Portland Mercury has produced one of the best bits of music journalism I’ve read this century. Granted, the bar in music journalism is set close to the floor, and taking Huey as your subject doesn’t help. But in “The Everyman Appeal of Huey Lewis,” Ned Lannamann and Ezra Ace Caraeff offer some real insight not just into that band but into the 1980s and pop music in general. If you like pop music, if you like Huey or like to laugh at Huey, you should read this.

 

Liverwurst 1

Despite the fact that I was entombed in an office in the middle of an industrial wasteland on a stunningly beautiful day, I had a great birthday. My one indulgence at work was french fries with lunch.

My sister called to remind me of several embarrassments that occurred at my third birthday. She wasn’t even there. Do I make fun of her for her various adolescent infatuations with substandard TV and singing stars of the 1970s? I do? Oh.

I spoke with my parents; for once they did not relive the night I was born. I reminded them that the hospital played the theme from Exodus in the delivery room, an old joke that always gets a laugh because I only use it on my birthday and they forget it from one year to the next. Dad was more interested in talking about his cat’s birthday. When my nephew Jared was born, I was replaced as The Prince, but when Dad got his cat last year, Jared became a non-person. At least I was replaced by a human.

Special D and I ate dinner at a neighborhood Greek place, then I opened my gifts in the back yard in the softly glowing twilight, and then we ate ice cream. This was what my strength coach called a “behavior day.” Tomorrow I get back to the business of training to become tall and thin and a successful novelist.

Somehow today I worked on my book and wrote what you’re reading: my 100th post since my first one in November 2010.

Today’s cartoon is one of the oldest writing cartoons I have. My girlfriend Judy gave it to me in 1979. Nobody knows where it came from. Tomorrow you’ll see another side of the Muse. Thanks as always for following along!

Random Pan of the Day
Hans Zimmer, Man of Steel (2013)
If you were as appalled as I was by Man of Steel (the only thing I liked in it was Kevin Costner), you’re probably wondering why I’m giving it any space at all. Zimmer’s score is dark, dreary, obvious, and unrelentingly thunderous. It’s Wagner’s Ring cycle compressed into a spin cycle. It sounds pretty much like the soundtracks of every other science fiction summer blockbuster of the past five years, and there are numerous places where the music could easily branch off into the darker moments of much better scores, including James Horner’s Glory (1989) and Randy Newman’s The Natural (1984).

However! The online version of the soundtrack includes a little number called “Man of Steel (Hans’ Original Sketchbook).” The running time is 28 minutes. This looks like a job for – Yes? No! I direct your attention to the 4-minute stretch that begins at about the 12-minute mark. This I like. To my ears, it’s the perfect musical theme to accompany Superman as he flies to the rescue. You can keep everything else.

The Jesus references in Man of Steel are hard to ignore. They were already present 35 years ago in Superman: The Movie. I see Superman as more of a Moses figure, but I may be biased here.

 

Noveleeny 1

Sometimes I wonder if I’m ever going to finish my book. I write all the time and yet my forward progress compares unfavorably to that of most slugs. I passed by a tree this evening and saw a slug trail on the bark that was easily eight feet off the ground. That was one ambitious gastropod. As noted railroad guy Robert R. Young once wrote, “The way a person spends his evenings is a part of that thin area between success and failure.”

When I came home from work I put in another 90 minutes, crawled ahead a bit, filled in a gap or two. I can’t resist revisiting earlier chapters and making adjustments, I’d like to think just like a sculptor , though probably the best analogy is to a chiropractor. This is how I work when I write fiction. I take comfort from something I read once about John McPhee:

McPhee has published more than 25 books, even though he rarely writes more than 500 words a day. He once tried tying himself to a chair to force himself to write more, but it didn’t work. He said, “People say to me, ‘Oh, you’re so prolific.’ God, it doesn’t feel like it – nothing like it. But you know, you put an ounce in a bucket each day, you get a quart.”

Writing sometimes feels more like drop-by-drop torture than doling out an ounce. Sometimes an ounce feels like an unattainable body of water. And sometimes the words pour out and you speed ahead, a big rooster tail in your wake. I guess the only thing to do, as many people have said, is to show up for yourself, as I’m doing here for Clarion West. If you write every day, you’ll hit your share of gushers. Then maybe these damn metaphors will stop.

I’m too sexy for my shirt
Tomorrow is the best day of the entire year: my birthday! Your birthday is a pretty good day, but my birthday is the best and it’s about time you acknowledged my total domination of all things birthday. Fortunately for all concerned, I am a generous ruler and I urge you to celebrate along with me on July 3. (I was born an hour and a half before the Fourth – Mom had had enough!)

One more thing: This is my 99th post.

Random Pick of the Day
Jimi Hendrix, Band of Gypsys (1970)
Some records improve over time. This is one. Everything was there when I brought it home from the record store when I was in high school, but it’s only now that I can really appreciate it – or really hear it. “Changes” got the airplay at the time, and deservedly so. But “Message to Love” might be better. You really can’t beat Hendrix’s first three albums, but I keep playing this one.

More protagonists 1

This morning I went to work on a Monday for the first time in five months. And I spent the whole day at a desk. I could only do one activity and someone else thought it up for me. How do people do this??

This assignment will be over in a week, and then I get back to where I once belonged. Someday my prince will come, and when he does he’ll offer me full-time employment. In the meantime, I have the Clarion West Write-a-thon, where I’m still conjuring a book out of years of reading, supposing, and daydreaming, paragraph by paragraph.

I’m a great believer in the power of the paragraph. I think paragraphs should have a little plot, should lead you into something strange and different, tie the knot in the middle, and at the end do a little surprise, and then prepare you for the next paragraph. (Norman Maclean)

Another hour to the good today, and a little closer to the goal of typing THE END to a paperback novel, like the kind the drugstore sells. I’m not sure exactly how I’m going to get there. These paragraphs keep surprising me!

Random Pick of the Day: 30 Year Anniversary Edition
Red Rockers, Good As Gold (1983)
Red Rockers were efficient. They had two hits, and they put them both on the same album, tracks 1 and 2. Done! These songs are excellent pop treats; “China” was the upbeat one, “Good As Gold” was the serious one. Don’t spoil them by looking up the videos. I doubt many people ever made it all the way from track 3 to track 10. I did it – once!