Thursday, June 12, 2003

Lo-fi immortality



So this is what it comes to.

So much beauty and grace that, like a candle lit too long, she burned out and vanished from our sight, reduced to smoke, filtering into the unattainable elements in the air. We do our best to breathe in the particles, trying in vain to capture, in some crude way, what once was, what we remember, the curve of her neck as she danced and sang in a Parisian jazz club, the Holly Golightly glasses, the gutter trash dressed up to be monochromic society angel at the racetrack. And in the end, with this merger offering, we still fail, as we fail everyday to try to replicate her, that willow who was a gentle humanitarian, that gossamer human who floated across putty gray screens 30 feet high, which barely contained her poise and charisma as is. How can a stamp, this insignificant refuse of a portrait, do any justice?

Today's Word: Floor

From One Word

The favorite resting place of dead bodies in noir stories.

Literary minefields do not appear on the map

Story here. Snip below.

"The Da Vinci Code," a thriller by a relatively unknown author, is the top-selling novel in the country.

It has boosted the profile of author Dan Brown -- and it has brought him his first literary challenge.

Author Lewis Perdue says that Brown's story, which explores codes hidden in Leonardo da Vinci's artwork and a closely guarded secret involving the Roman Catholic Church, has similarities to Perdue's "Daughter of God," published in 2000.

Last week, Perdue sent a letter to Doubleday, Brown's publisher. While religious themes, secrets and conspiracies aren't newcomers to popular fiction, Perdue said he was seeing too many of his own ideas in "The Da Vinci Code," Brown's fourth novel.


While my wife would tell me that there is nothing new under the sun, this is something that just has to give authors everywhere a case of the heebie-jeebies. You write a book that's a critical and public success. You get some good buzz, appear on Charlie Rose or get an article on you in one of the mainstream news magazines...who knows, maybe there's a movie deal in the works and Brad Pitt's in talks to be the lead. (Don't laugh, just ask Chuck Palahniuk)

And then, poof...something comes up from the ocean floor. Another writer says that your novel sounds like his. You shrug and swear you never heard of the guy, you never read his book. You get antsy as everyone begins to look at you, thinking you pulled the literary version of a smash-and-grab, taking something that never belonged to you and claiming it as your own.

But...but, you stammer...you have the rough drafts to prove you came up with the idea. You had it all along. See, in the second draft, page 183, second graph...all there, some Deux Ex Machina you came up with to resolve some puzzle or to set the stage for a mid-story twist.

And you can hold your own for a couple coincidences. You're fast and sharp, clever enough to work people's good nature. When you are a success, people like you, and they'll cut you a little bit of a break. "Besides," someone will joke with you over drinks at some publishing party, "it's not like sci-fi writers had to stop writing about aliens and space travel after 'Star Trek', right?"

But you wonder...maybe you didn't read the book you're accused of ripping off...maybe your girlfriend did. Maybe your research assistant did? Maybe you heard of it at another party, or through word of mouth in your publisher's office. Maybe, in the course of research, you stumbled across a synopsis of it and absorbed it?

And then you panic, wondering how much you've been corrupted by other people's writings? Do you have any other plagiarism bombs sitting in your gray matter, waiting to go off the next time you get in a jam? Deep breath time. As a kid, you were told to read other people's works in order to be a great writer...see how it was done. Get a feel for language. Little did you know, your mind was absorbing dialogue and plot points, conflicts and resolutions, themes and tricks. Now, you can't purge it and your publisher is nudging you on the shoulder to get writing on your next book. Will you repeat the same mistakes? "What's the next one about?" the talk show host with impossible hair asks you, and you check yourself, trying not to say something that sounds like someone else's work.

And then you're screwed, because you have to come up with something groundbreaking for the next book. Otherwise, everyone thinks you are a rip-off. So, into the breach you go, hoping your skill is faster than the shadows chasing you. On the other side is either ruin, or a better book.

Your move.

Wednesday, June 11, 2003

Colored pegs

Body Count: 144 words

Started the opening graphs last night. I put away my notes and scraps and shot some words onto the screen. Mostly spelled right. A plus.

I know this is how and where I want to begin it, but I admit I was let down just a bit. I expected the first words to be a thunderclap of Zeusian proportions. Where's the almighty choir? Where's the ecstatic cackle in my throat as I scream into the unknown, painting images with words and making the first character appear, running for her life. I expected something seismic, and now that I didn't feel it I wonder if those were the right words. It's like that game with the colored pegs and the rows. You put different pegs in the holes and the opponent (who has a different set of colored pegs hidden in secret) tells you cryptically that you have either the right colors out there and/or the right colors in the right spots and/or the wrong ones out there altogether.

A more criminal analogy: I'm picking a lock, I can feel the tumblers sorta twist with my bent wire, but they aren't all clicking into place. There's no groove there, no magical 'a-ha' where I feel like I'm on the right track. I have the pegs out and they're all jumbled up.

Well, hey, this is the first draft, the draft Anne Lamott called the "write down" draft, as in "write it down, and not care about what it is." Gentlemen, prepare to enter the breach.

Second qualm: Now that I have start, I have the scary-vague notion about knowing where to go, but not knowing how to get there gracefully. Imagine having to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night at a friend's house. You sorta know where the bathroom is, but you're all turned around and you have to go and you don't want to make the wrong turn, being forced to whiz in the potted ficus in the corner.

Okay, so I'm not ready to urinate on plant life, but I'm just queasy about trying to write and not looking like a best seller on the first try. Must not panic. Must write.

Minor music note: The new Radiohead is pretty darn nifty. It's not "OK Computer," but it's more accessible than "Kid A" and "Amnesiac." It's more textured, more fierce than "Kid A" and "Amnesiac," and it makes an ideal soundtrack to anyone making a film or writing a novel about the collapse of civilization. Plus, I picked up my copy for free in exchange for helping a friend pick up some furniture.

Minor TV Justice note: My wife is ironing her clothes for work in the other room. She mentioned Court TV (a cable channel dedicated to all things legal) is going to have a special all about the Laci Peterson case. Remember, the case hasn't gone to trial yet, and as a result, a jury has not been seated. Meanwhile, this tempest of news and speculation and "expert" talking heads going non-stop on American cable news networks has to be just poisoning the jury pool. Mark my words: One day, some accused felon is going to walk free due to some crafty lawyer making the defense that his/her client can't get a fair trial anywhere because of the intense media spotlight.

Today's Word: Yoga

From One Word

The ability to bend the body and mind in ways to show you, yes you, don't have to be so damn rigid. A little focus, a little breathing and you can achieve strength and tone without being a gym bunny, without sticking a finger down your throat.

Tuesday, June 10, 2003

Today's Word: Stale

From One Word.

A thousand year-old thoughts, a million year-old movie sequels, vintage clothes passed off as retro-chic, a downward spiral of nostalgia feeding upon itself in fashion, video games, mass entertainment and relationships. There's a need to invent new words, even new ways to move the body and mind, to keep a kind of stale corrosion of self-satisfaction, from corrupting us and making whatever we do and say sound and smell like fossilized dust.
Raison d'etre

Hi. Welcome.

This ever-changing blog is a Web window into the development of my writing process, most notably my novel, "Babylon By Twilight". Creating anything is regarded as a journey, so consider this a travelogue. Note: Objects will constantly shift while this vehicle is in motion. Please check back regularly.

A few questions to clear up confusion

Why did you abandon your old site?

I didn't know it then, when I started my old site about a year ago, but something recently happened where I couldn't just keep going on my old site. It's been a hodgepodge of different tools for me, from personal opinion, to political rants, to various junk-drawer text I'd throw up there. It never had a focus, a unifying theme. Granted, you can say that about blogs in general, them being reservoirs for thoughts and not having to have some theme of reason to them.

But I wanted to make a break, start something fresh that will focus on my writings. I decided to cut the Gordian Knot rather than figure a way around the loops and coils. Also, starting with a new blog gives me more of a new palate to paint on. When you start from scratch, you get a chance to try again without making the same mistakes all over again. Somehow, strangely, I feel less burdened, as if a weight is off my chest, sins have been absolved. I'm born again.

And as far as "abandoned" goes, the old site has not been kicked to the curb to rot. It's merely frozen until I figure out what to do with it.

Who is John Ryan?

He is me. Howdy.

What's the purpose of this site?

I'm writing about my writing. I'm going to let you know how I'm progressing with my short stories and my novel. I'll probably bitch a lot about not having enough time to write, or how all the good ideas are taken. Bear with me. I'll eventually post snippets of fiction (something I promised and occasionally delivered on at my old site) and I'll try to make my entries at One Word more of real feature here.

Hey, I noticed you changed some of the links compared to your old site

Yep. You're pretty sharp. You should be looking for WMD in Iraq.

What are you reading now?

Now, I'm reading "The Wicker Man" by Robin Hardy and Anthony Shaffer. Have recently read "Diary" by Chuck Palahniuk and "Please Don't Kill the Freshman" by Zoe Trope.

How do you write?

With my fingers. With my toes, when properly challenged.

Where do you get your ideas from?

I have a sweatshop in Honduras working 24/7. They send the day's results by UPS Worldwide. I get them at my door about 8 a.m. the next day.

Seriously, where I get them from is a mystery. Some are strong ideas that set up shop and become something. Some hit and slide off the back wall of my brain like badly cooked pasta. I have about seven journals stuffed full of ideas and literally hundreds of pieces of paper on which I scribbled something of note. Whenever I get down on myself for not being able to be creative, I rummage through those.

How often will you post?

When I can.

Wait. I have some more questions.

Good. Put them in the comment section below.