Committed! (Or should be...)

It's official! I've registered for SCWCLA7 this September 25-27, in Irvine! I slunked in under the wire for the Early Bard discount, and saved $75. Well, not being one to let good money lie fallow, I applied the savings to not one, but TWO Advanced submission readings. I submitted my 20-pager to Laura Taylor at SCWCSD23. This time (since its the same 20 pages) I sent it to someone else: Marla Miller and Jean Jenkins.

Marla got to hear my pirate session reading with Matt Pallamary (the one that I called "Utter Disaster"), but not the first 20 pages. Hopefully, she'll get a better sampling of my writing skills without my blathering mouth in the way.

So, between now and then, I'm moving, getting married, setting up a conference designed to save the world (seriously). Somewhere in there, I need to get some work done. Throwing money at the conference will help me stay committed. And if not, these nice men with the butterfly nets will help.




PS: Of course 'slunk' is a word. Slink, slank, slunk.
OMG! It IS! http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/slunk
Who knew?

SCWC SD09 Topic Contest: Rain

Because of storm approaching {gasp!} San Diego, MSG quickly settled on "rain" as the topic of the 250-word Topic Contest. Any homonym of 'rain' qualified. I don't general spend (or waste) my effort, time or creative juice on these contests. But this one leaked into my bilge and wouldn't let itself go unwritten. Here it is:

SCWC SD09 Topic Contest Topic: Rain (or reign, rein, homonyms) "Over Me" by Christopher P. Simmons He should’ve been ready. He’d seen it coming. Over his left shoulder, a dry-land hurricane bore down on him. He twisted the throttle harder. While in a gas station, walking past repellant wipes, the vertical tsunami hit. Too late, he dove out. He donned his rubber duck gear, but the cold monsoon had already funneled down the drain of his turtleneck. The torrent drowned the sound of his iron steed, but not his will to get home, nor the memory that precipitated this power dive. Over the thunder of bikes on the dry and dusty road, he heard her voice on a telephone say "separation." A decade of drizzle, shower and storms had eroded her now-leaking dam. The Amazonian forest humidity fogged his visor. Riding blind, the sky wept with him. Highway became canal in the inundation. His wake at typhoon speed made him hydroplane. "All those moments, lost in time, like tears…" he quoted. Resigned, the leather knight let go, letting his steed run, unbridled. He dared the storm to kill him. Begged it. But it only let him wallow in sorrow; His queen had abdicated. He slogged on, layers of leather and cotton became sponge, boots squished when he shifted, handlebar grips became cannelloni. Defiant, he crashed through the leading crest of the front, and fled, daring not to stop. Cold and exhausted, a toll booth forced his brake lights. The attendant sweltered in the Ante-Diluvian humidity. "What’s the temperature out there?" "74." He stripped to the waist. As if born into a new skin, he swaddled himself in one last dry t-shirt. Thirsting for anything but water, he drank in the dry air as he rode off.

Pop Quiz:

• How many times did I NOT say 'rain'?
• What song do you have stuck in your head now?
• Why did I almost allude to the band "Our Lady, Peace"?
• Do you want to read The Winner?

Sharpening my chisel

The SCWC San Diego 09 rang out as a resounding success! Only one disaster worth reporting. Although agents were everywhere, I didn't pitch to any. I had another, higher priority.

"To Suck Less" -- MSG
I had spent the days since SCWC LA08 re-writing the T7S sequel. I had to see if I had improved the writing or not. Taking to heart, head and pen the critiques of Trai, Laura, Matt/Lorelei & the group, I had tried to "improve my craft." In that, I had to remove the need for a prequel, and I had to capture the reader with Judas' plight. Could I make the most hated man in history the object of the reader's sympathy in only a few paragraphs? Could I instill the priest with enough guilt to replicate his shooting a pregnat woman? I had to find out.

I submitted my 20-page sample to "Advanced Submission." Chaos smiled on me, and Laura Taylor had an opening. Her (positive) reaction at LA08 and referral to an honest agent taught me quickly that (to appropriate Michale Steven Gregory) "my writing needed to suck less."

"Overall, this book will be compelling! Bravo!"
At SD09, Laura's response rated my rewrite VERY positive. She recognized the effort I had put into it, and lauded the result, with a nod to known flaws. I later took it to her "Read & Critique" session. I wish that I had a video of her reading my sample to the group. Where I read quickly, compressing for time, Laura read slowly. Not even legato, but largo! Where I wrote frantic action, she transformed the prose into an indictment, trial, sentencing and execution of Judas. I heard guilt and agony that I never had before. Her pace so tormenting to poor Judas, that calling it "fingernails on chalkboard" proved too kind. I described it as "awakening next to a woman whose arm impedes your escape, so you saw it off slowly to avoid waking her." When I asked if they felt sympathy for Judas, the majority nodded. I ratcheted up the "Success-o-meter" a click or two.

"Bloody Pirates!"
Next, I took a new chapter, starring Calucci and Annie, to Matt Pallamary's Pirate session. His Princess of Darkness, Lorelei didn't attend, but "Me, Usually" Mary dropped herself into second seat. For this session, I had pre-printed a 5 page sample. I used all of my document processing skill to condense out 7 pages to 5. As I started the sample on Chapter 3, I simply removed references to Chapter 1 & 2, which would have borne explaining, had they not read them. My time came, and I read...

UTTER DISASTER!
Titanic? Pompeii? Atlantis? HA! Glitches compared to my debacle!
90% of the issues raised would have been answered had they read the previous chapters. Some worthwhile critique of what remained distilled out, but on the whole, the session leached out a toxic swill. Marla Miller sat in, and she observed (paraphrasing) "You cheated yourself. You didn't get critique of your actual writing... but I think you got me. I like it." I made two notations on the inside of my skull.

1. Don't distill your writing for readings. Read your five pages, and shut up. If they are left hanging... good! heh heh
   
2. This book is not paced for readings. I had tried to give them a good place to start, and a good place to end. But the chapters are too long to squish into 5 pages. Let it go! Like Indy reaching for Grail, wise counsel will save me next time.

"One shot, One Kill?"
Fortunately, this debacle was merely a pirate session. It wasn't a pitch. Wasn't a contest. Wasn't "my chance to blow*" so I took JCX to another slaughterhouse: Andrew Peterson's Read & Critique. Because his book, First to Kill stars a sniper, I chose to read my "flying bullet" chapter. Again, my reading pace careened a bit too quickly. But I restrained myself and stopped reading without resolving the scene. The feedback was good, useful.

The funny thing is that as I read it, I could see things I would change, based solely on what I'd learned from SD09. Adverbs, tenses, POVs. What seemed good before, now needed sanding. Andrew referred to "improving your craft", and I suddenly saw writing as analogous to woodworking (at which I suck, btw) Carving, inlaying, finishing are skills which improve with practice. I saw writing (and re-writing) as carving the same pattern over and over again on a new piece, perhaps a set of chairs. The latter pieces will probably have better carvings, more delicate inlays, smoother finish than the earlier ones.

The Learning

• I learned more of what I had yet to learn.
• I learned that 3 people will have 4 opinions.
• I learned that writing books is really a team effort, involving the editors, the critique groups, maybe even the agent and publisher. Stephen King may not need the team. We do.

Applying the next coat
I have 7 months until SCWC-LA09. I realize much of what I need to learn. And apply... like a coat shellac on freshly carved, filled, sanded wood. The next one will be better. And the next one...


*Eminem - Lose Yourself

Off to the Conference!!! San Diego, here I come...

Just a quick note to anyone reading to say this:

• I'm going to Southern Cal Writer's Conference 23, San Diego in, well, 12 hours.
• I got A LOT done on the re-write. I ripped through to the end of Book I (yes, it's gotta be a trilogy, at least), and next, I have to iterate back. But, I did what I set out to do. I removed Abby and Lucci, and replaced them each with someone else, a wee bit familiar.
• I'm getting my first 20 pages critiqued at the conference. I know by whom, but shant say. I expect that he/she will notice improvement. Near flawless proofreading, except for my penchant to misuse, abuse, subjugate, and obfuscate commas.
  
• I have excerpted out my 5 pages for the Pirate/Rogue sessions. They are dynamite!
  
• I hope to see a bunch of SCWCLA08 there: Trish, Jeff, Lorelei, Josh, Brandon, Stacey & Gloria, Sharmyn, Jan (And the WHALE! We want the whale).
  
• I got all my docs in a row. I'm ready!
  

If yer going, find me! If yer not see ya when I get back.

"If yer goin' to San Dee-aygo..."

Just a quick post to tell all who care, "IT'S OFFICIAL!!! I'm going to San Diego!"

The SCWC*SD09 is February 13-16th, and I have just registered, have my flights and am ready to rock! My re-write is proceeding nicely (or NOT nicely as the case may be >:).

I am 90% done with my 20-pager, and will be sending that off to San Diego first thing Monday morning. I hope to have all of Book I re-written, but with the 20-pager done, I'm good to go. After the conference, I am going to Manhattan Beach. If anyone wants to rendezvous with me, I'll be at The Kettle, drinking a Pomosa!

Happy New Year!

PS: Anyone know whom I have to bribe how much to get SCWC-LA09 to be in Manhattan Beach?

The Day The Earth Stood Still

I saw The Day the Earth Stood Still this evening. This is not about that movie, and there are no spoilers. But there was a little tiny thing that I want to mention, so that those who see it, will catch it as it goes by.

I know this woman
Jennifer Connelly plays Patricia Neal's role of Helen Benson. But as you get to the middle of the movie, and she tries to change Klaatu's mind, a woman that I know and love emerged... Abby Quinn. The movie is really just a CGI-laden remake of The Seventh Sign.

• She befriends a traveling stranger who is really here to destroy the Earth... ok, the PEOPLE on the Earth (In the original, Klaatu is even a boarder.)
  
• She tries to convince the Harbinger of Destruction that people can change.
• Ultimately, (no spoiler) the love of her child saves the world (for now)

What made the Seventh Sign great (IMHO) had nothing to do with effects. But if they DID remake it, this would have been a good start. Aside from the Abby parallel, the stream of TV coverage of riots, panic and mayhem were reminiscent of T7S. Words like "tribulation" and "Armageddon" are heard. There was a mood about this piece that harked back to T7S. And like the world populace in T7S, no one else knew what was going on. NO one knew who had saved the world. No one knew what changes had to be made to "use the chance she has given them."

In the end, Helen Benson, like Abby, convinces Klaatu to give the world another chance. That's all I'm going to say about it, except that, as in T7S, we don't know how long the reprieve lasts. And like T7S, more questions were left than answers given. UNLIKE T7S, I'm not inclined to write a sequel ;-) But if I DID, Michael Gavon would be one of the spearheads to try to effect the changes that need to be made. And in doing so, he would certainly meet Hamad Qiryat.

THAT would be the Day the Earth Stood Still!

Hatchet and scalpel

It's not in the writing, it's in de-writing
I have begun the process of "de-writing" portions of Judas Christ. Two chapters have fallen under hatchet and scalpel. Aside from the fact that it's not in the writing, but in the re-writing, I have several reasons to re-write:

1. The first chapters were written over 18 years ago.
   My writing style has changed tremendously. Mostly for the better, though my first chapter did have a travelogue lyric quality, not unlike an Antarctic version of "Of Mice and Men." I used florid if not overgrown descriptions to imbue if not innundate my readers with a wistful fondness of my newly found Christianity. Not that I had any readers. It was hand written and looked like Arabic in a mirror. I'm now more Steve Austin than Jane Austen, so my writing needed to get out the hedgetrimmers and mow, mow mow...
   
   
2. The writer's conference gave me a realistic view of my own writing style
   I'm not going to enumerate this, as I still have a lot to learn. But picture a guy finding a set of golf clubs and balls, trying to learn to use them. Then, one day, he watches golf on TV. He's already better before he gets out of the chair.
   
   
3. Removing Abby and T7S
   This is going to be harder than I thought. I think (and feel) that I can write a tight yet poignant replacement for what the Seventh Sign brought. As I have said, much of what I was going to use was added bymy own delusion anyway. It wasn't in the movie. The readers who never read what I wrote as the sequel will never miss it. But I will.

The first two chapters have gone quickly, because that is just paring and repairing. I described it as "cutting the fat off a pork chop. It's easy to find, and you don't need it anyway." They went from 6,879 words in two chapters, to 4,931 in one, leaner, stronger, tighter, more vocal, less cerebral Chapter 1. That which was Chapter 2 (which was my first ever written chapter) went from 2,203 words to a 731-word addendum to Chapter 1. And it doesn't take a rocket scientist to understand it.

The Butterfly Effect, except the butterfly has a sword!
The next chapter will need to take the severed or frayed neurons of my version of T7S and re-wire them such that they still let the chapters downstream work. A tiny change early means a big change later. It's the Butterfly Effect.

One example is that in my version, Avi wrote "The Book of Abby" which told the whole tale of the movie. It was in part Avi's response to David tell him to "Remember it all, write it down, tell it." So he wrote a book. But I was also writing a sequel for a book that never existed. The Book of Abby was a long chapter designed to spin up the reader who never saw the movie.

But in the 2nd book of JCX, one character refers to The Book of Abby as he talks to Father Lucci, and recognizes him as Cartaphilus. Ok, so... if I can't WRITE the book of Abby, how does he know who Lucci is? That's one of my problems, but I have time. So off I go. Mellow-D asked me "How does it feel to re-write my old writing?" I'll tell you...

An analogy featuring a motorcycle (duh)
In August, 2002, I was returning from Sturgis Bike Rally on my bike, on which the starter motor had failed. I couldn't shut off the bike. I ended up riding INTO the backside of a dry land hurricane. I had on my helmet, my raingear, leather jacket, a turtleneck, an orange t-shirt, and a white sport-wick shirt. I rode into this... Despite all of my protection, I got soaked to the bone. My orange shirt ran dye onto the white shirt. I rode through Waukesha about the time that it was raining 2" per hour. I spent 2 hours in that. But I kept riding, and finally emerged in front of the storm. Without taking a single second more than I needed to fuel, I bolted to Chicago.

When I reached the first toll booth at 4:30 am, I was soaked and shivering, but worse, the raingear held IN the water, and my raingear and leather weighed 16 tons. I paid the toll to the woman, and I realized that she was wearing a tank top and was sweating. "What is the temperature out there?" "Probably 74 degrees."

I pulled out and the the side, leapt off my running bike and began peeling my waterlogged gear. When I stripped off my shirt, I felt the warmth and humidity that was like a desert wind compared to where I had just been. I rolled off in just my dry t-shirt, letting my prune-like skin desiccate. I felt lighter and nimbler than 15 minutes before. My exhaustion lifted for a while, and I screamed home.

Set Free, Moving On
When I got my brain blit of Judas Christ, I was a different person. The year before had me going through a divorce, bankruptcy, my mother dying. I was torn in my relationship, jobless, helpless, hopeless, homeless and had THE WORST car in the history of man. My church kicked me out for either dating after divorce, or because of a non-fiction book I was writing, depending on the telling. I had my Savior to protect me, but I still got soaked in the storm. I carried that sopping garment for nearly 15 years. A butterfly with a sword cut me out of it, and I'm set free!

What I wrote then was written by a man slogging around wearing the burden of the storm's aftermath. What I am writing now is from a man, running on the beach.