7:00a.m. Been writing since 4a.m. Chapter 2 has been completely revised with three more readings to do. Goal: to show driven characters by what we see them doing and the author keeping out of it as much as possible with little commentary...except one has to come in to stop a character or cut a scene... to keep a psychological suspense story moving, and myself interested in the mystery of where the scheme is going.
I am beginning to hear their voices. Just have to guide what they do for the story to unfold simply. There is a draft I sometimes follow or delete.
"For I have set you in a course and direction, according to what is yet in store. I have put you into motion, and have placed my hand upon you. So do not worry as you encounter challenges, or mysteries. Do not fear as you encounter resistance or delay, for all these things will be part of your path, but you will come to learn all you need to learn, as you experience all you need to experience, within the company of the people and relationships I have chosen for you..."
I am bothered by this sentence. " In a little while he would add another log or two and settled back with a happy memory of a painter he’d met in Macombe Alley. The telephone rang"
I think I know why...but sometimes things I just not clear when you're writing...even after you've walked away and done other things...The transition is off...In the original, it read almost the same..."but instead" was thrown in instead of "and"...
I think the whole sentence needs to be re-worked to flow into action without causing me to pause every time I read it.
What about: Revised...
A little while later he added another log and settled back with memories of a painter he’d met in Macombe Alley. The telephone rang
(Delete "would" and delete "a happy memory")
When you return to writing it is a lot of work and a lot of fun. It becomes the only thing that matters. By the 3rd day, you are so immersed you don't really sleep. Every thought is about the characters. You exist only to nurture them.
This is when you need your partner and biggest supporter to take care of little things in the house and everything else you completely forget to do...because when you do them out necessity, your brain is so scattered you forget things.
7:56 am. Completed the final rewrite of Chapter 1... with a clear head and mind this morning. Perhaps, a few edits later, but for now I've gotten the story down as I want it written...Over half of the original was cut and rewritten. I saw so need for the flashback re-introducing Zeno from 3 years ago when that was already done in the Prologue...The flashback makes sense. Yes (for me it did) but its slowed down the current flow of the story...PaintedPeople should flow easily without distractions and flowery arrangements. I read kind of stuff and hate it...will put a down for weeks before I pick it up again.
I have become quite fond of Emmerdale Farm 1972 with star-crossed lovers Jack Sudgen and Marian Wilks. There is a triangle growing between Jack and Marian and Jack's little brother Joe...who is completely out of Marian's class. Must say, I like this little drama that plays like more like a novel. It is well written and acted...
So I am finally back into this thing called storytelling...that I also call crafting a story or attempting to craft and/or see my way through ugly drafts I created of PaintedPeople and never finished. So far re-writing it has been a never ending challenge since there is so much of it to re-write. What's strange is that I understand Abel much better now since I am now Abel's age and no longer Zeno's age. How ironic is that? There is more time now to finally complete the monster and bury it. More than any time in my life there are no distractions or interruptions unless I make them, which is why I chose this faraway town in the middle of no where to complete it. But then I spent all those months decorating the apartment, picture taking and not writing. The town is a quiet place where one can remain unseen and unnoticed and without a car there is no place to really go.
Chatting live with Saleem though is a great salvation. I am happiest when I see his face, see his fingers, see him smile... Sometimes, I want to go there with him...when we're together and alone...but I tell myself can wait for all of that.
Yesterday morning was productive. For a change I liked what I wrote and re-wrote and then cut and re-wrote again over and over again. There's a hundred way to tell one event, and I always manage to find thousand more.
No coffee this morning at 5 a.m. because when I tried to go sleep afterwards (8 a.m.) I was too hyper to sleep...In bed I read a John Irving novel 'A Widow for One Year' that got so good I couldn't sleep until I got to part in the novel that so frivolous I hated what was happening to Ted, the writer and womanizer, who I'm not suppose like as well as the protagonist Eddie who sleeps with Marian, Ted's wife, because that's how Ted arranged it but, well, I like Ted better, so I closed it...Some time after that as I laid there in the stillness, I closed my eyes and drifted into dreamland. When I woke up and looked it the clock, it was 5 p.m.
Errands this morning will throw me off schedule, but I'll be back...since I am enjoying the story again. It's been a while since I've thought that way.
hmmmm...so many beginnings to PPS that sometimes I forget which one is fiction...Lately, I rather like the online draft over the one recently drafted...in that version I used Abel's car, an old cadillac, previously owned by Zelta...However, I now prefer Zeno's old pinto....which in fact was my own! back then...that old pinto was hoot. Sometimes, I feared it wouldn't make it over Charleston's old Cooper River bridge with the steep hill that was a lot of fun...
updated edge of night 3366: Mike Karr, will see that they all rot in prison to never see the light of day.
writing is a wonderful thing....and yet can also be a curse. by curse i am implying how one tends to neglect lot of things when writing. i could write seemingly forever, never tire and sleep in between paragraphs, wake up fresh and write again..................i try these days not to write with a poison pen, so easy to achieve, when recording things for journal charles or writing journal notes and getting things off one's chest..................long time ago in journal charles i hurt an important friend by writing a statement i did not intend to write....and though i wrote what i did anyway basically in anger because i did not achieve my selfish way, i never thought anyone was actually reading it line for line. that important friend did read what i wrote....read it all, line for line....as did another and another....and i was chastised for hurting that important friend....you shouldn't had said that about so-so, one friend told me....after all she's done for you....all that was very true---indeed... she was deeply hurt over my statement. i am so sorry about that now. so many times i have wanted to tell her how sorry i am....and by befriending her on facebook, which she accepted, i hope she now realizes that.....yet we have communicated very little, but i have given her much respect and liking many of her posts......and though she will know this when i do hear from her I am very happy....
since this part of my site so raw, i've decided it should be password protected.....chances are i, myself, will forget what the password is...but at this moment i have not.
tonight we begin work on paintedpainted and hope to complete edge of night for the week. tomorrow it's back to making "money, etc" because, well, one has to eat, too...as i think about it i haven't eaten now since i went to tu lan the other night and had ginger fish. for some bizarre reason i am not desperately hungry but know that i need to eat....
if you listen close enough to the people in the tenderloin, you'll realize how primitive they've become. the language they speak is foreign. so use of slang, i need an urban dictionary to translate.
Her father, Mike Karr, will see that they all rot in prison until they can't walk from arthritis and no one there to care or spare mercy because of their crime.....changed no one there to no one left...changed to or have mercy and deleted because...
out walking tonight through south of market to "distract" self w/other things, i had a silly idea to change the working title of paintedpeople story to dark alley... really paintedpeople story, should have been finished eons ago before best friend ken mcculley ever died....ken and i used to have so much fun revising and revising pages of pps...i rather liked ken's ideas...so miss that guy very much......and all the crazy situations we would get ourselves into in a place called the pendulum.........can't believe i rode in ken's car when we both were so drunk and screaming so........some guardian angel when --really i hardly believe in that---kept us from crashing into another speeding car......or the many times we would interview each other's dates, ehecking their IDs and credit cards to make sure they were not ax murderers before we took them home............so many things i've done i sometimes pretend never happened...and wish God will do the same.........but at last, i am somewhat more focused to complete pps and move on (hopefully), which means spending less time being a party/social boy, less time on social media as well...though all that's kind of hard to do w/march madness and st patty's all in one week...and dexter is back on the horizon though i keep avoiding him...........it's so fun watching march madness though with strangers in places like showdogs and city pub but sometimes you gotta sacrifice and just do the very thing you love the most...the only thing you only think about, care about. dark alley could become another project...exploring the occult/horror....a mad man who hates his father and mother and his black-hearted family and he's high on drugs and murders homeless peep and drug dealers and hookers and johns down dark alleys in san francisco; and he gets away with it because he's a trusted well known name and because he doesn't remember ever killing anyone.......updating pp to "today" is out of the question...since i'd have to add internet and cell phones and all kinds of gadgats that i can't quite see abel erikson ever using. the process of that would take me another 100 years to complete and i'll still be stuck on age 21....i look so forward burying the past and writng "The End" once and for all....
meanwhile, having much fun though remembering and researching old scripts and "making up" boyhood favorite THE EDGE OF NIGHT. It still is my favorite. Somethings never change...
sipping a good tea that i hope will put me to sleep soon. yes yes...my eyes are getting heavy...heavier...heavy...goodnight..
Re-introduced EON stories based on a synopsis from "TV The Edge of Night".