Can’t talk, working…

A bit late, but better late than never, right?

Right…

So, anywho, I finished my book… oh, in March or so, as all of you regular readers probably know by now, and then I took about six months off from it. I queried around a bit, I wrote some other stuff and I collected some rejections. I’ve sent 12 out so far—queries, that is… and I’ve had a couple of partials and a full request, but ultimately, six Nos have returned.

Them’s the breaks…

But somewhere around the turn of the year, I got a wild hair and I lifted my novel from the dust it lay in, creaked open it’s cover, and then I started cutting. Cutting like a mad man, a MAD MAN, I say! And the results? Stupefying. That's when I had the thought. It was a good thought, a dangerous thought, and as I had precious little time, my plan formed quickly. I figured, if I moved fast enough, what with the Holiday lull of office closings and all, I could cut, I could strip down, I could pare, and then I could re-assemble… and all before I received (fingers crossed) more requests for additional pages.

So that’s what I’ve been busy doing and you know… so far, so good.

I’m nearly done now, so very nearly done (last chapter, twenty-ish pages...), and with only one response having shown up in the interim to boot (and who cares since it was a No). I still need to implement the changes I've made, of course, but that’s okay, the heavy lifting is basically done and I still have the original doc saved in a different file and ready to go out at a moment’s notice, just in case.

I’ve got to say though, I am dead excited for these changes. Dead excited. Really. I can’t wait to see my book's new form. I have been hacking, people, broad strokes, and frankly, I am shocked at what I am so easily willing and able to cut loose. Six months later and I can see it clearly now: Those old bits that were always meant to lead somewhere but then didn’t, the moments that might have almost come together into something, but never quite did, and those meandering tangents and flights of fancy… GONE!

It’s hard to describe the feeling, if you haven’t ever worked on a long project like a novel, that feeling where you know something isn’t working, and you eventually just move on, returning again and again to hack at it and hack at it and hack at it, and sometimes, if you're lucky, it suddenly all becomes clear, sometimes your mind just opens up and you realize: “Why don’t I just say what I want to say here?” and then... it totally works. Totally, it's golden and it’s perfect and you just kind of shake your head and wonder why you were having such a problem in the first place.

But sometimes?

Sometimes you go through that exhausting process… and nothing. Nothing! It’s so frustrating. You know it’s not working, but what do you do? It's just sits there, awkward and ugly, an ungainly bastard squatting there and ruining your rhythm... bastard! And then one day, you just cut it loose, excise it like a festering wound, and...

It’s an instant and complete sigh of relief. As soon as you hit that delete button… you just know. You feel better right away, you know it’s the right decision—even if you liked that one little turn of phrase in there… It’s just better this way. It even looks better, you know? Well, that’s how this edit has been. It’s just been right and I think the end product is going to be really good. Like I said: Dead excited. Of course, no one’s really going to notice the differences as much as I do, but still…

I'll come right out and say it: I’m expecting the Dewey Oxberger of WIPs here, people: A lean, mean, fighting machine.

Hand in hand with all that of course, is the tantalizing prospect that I will soon be done. Thank God! The thought that I will soon be done and moving on, man... finally? It's brilliant. And I am ready too, believe me. After three-ish years, I am itching to get writing again. Book Two waits patiently for me, of course, but before I dive back in there, and once Gunslingers is put to bed forever and ever (hopefully), I'm going to work out a bit, limber up, stretch out the old writin' muscles. I’m feeling the urge for something a little different, so I think I'm going to try out a few short stories… and buddy, I got some ideas. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, I got some ideas.

And best of all?

There are still six unanswered queries out there... Dewey Oxberger, man, Dewey Oxberger...

Character Origins – where do they come from?

Some authors base their characters on people they know. In general this method (so far) has not been my habit. I do get requests from acquaintances saying (usually jokingly) “Put me in your book!” with their reasons why this is a good idea. Not gonna happen. In general my characters tend to evolve over time, taking on a life of their own as I sit down and write about them.

Here is how a couple of my characters for BLACKHEART came into being:

Blackheart

Blackheart was born one day in the late 1990s as I was driving fast on a very crowded Interstate 35W in Minneapolis. I imagined (that’s what us writer-types do, don’tcha know) a horrible car wreck occurring complete with explosions and twisted metal that killed all involved—except for one dark, scarred man who climbed from the wreckage unscathed. I wanted to know—why, how, who was this dark figure that could walk from a fiery wreck untouched save for another series of scars added to his body? Thus Blackheart was born, the dark antihero who kept coming back time and time again in scene after scene as I wrote—whether I asked him to show up or not, who eventually became the engine that drives my book.

Clayton Jaeger, P.I.

I saw a documentary about an old surfer dude who went down to the California coast every morning and surfed to start his day. It made me think of a man, not an old surfer dude, but a sick, middle-aged private investigator, who had nothing left to live for—dying of cancer, twenty-something daughter recently killed, wife ready to leave him—who decides to go for one last surf and never come back. Instead of drowning he is saved by an angel—who gives him this decree, “Stop Blackheart.”

It is the meeting of these two stories that sets my book in motion.

Snow/Cold/Minnesota

At lunch with a friend discussing my book’s progress recently I was happy when she said, “Your book happens in Minnesota? Cool. I am so sick of every book I read and every movie I watch taking place in New York.” I couldn’t agree more. Setting my book in Minnesota makes perfect sense to me. It’s my primary example of “write what you know.” Having lived here for approximately 4 decades I’d like to believe I’ve noticed a thing or two about this state. For instance, it snows. In Blackheart there is blizzard that at times is only a backdrop for the story and at other times is one of the enemies my characters struggle against. The biggest challenge for me here is finding different ways to describe snow throughout the book. I understand the Inuit had 100 words for snow. My book contains at least 102. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eskimo_words_for_snow)

Noel August

Fifteen-year-old Noel August travels with Blackheart and leads him to what he believes is the key to his immortal curse. She is a beautiful and troubled girl—her family murdered, speaking with guardian angels that only she can see and hear. I’m not exactly sure where Noel came from—but I personally know a number of people who claim to have seen angels—and at least one who claims to have conversed with them. To me the concept of seeing and hearing spiritual beings is fascinating—and Noel adds a wonderful counterbalance (I hope) to Blackheart’s darker side.

Resolutions

As the member of the Scribblerati who wrote the last blog entry for 2009 and now is writing the first blog entry for 2010 I thought it appropriate I at least comment on New Year’s Resolutions. In 2009 I had hoped to complete the third draft of my book—which I did on New Year’s Eve day. It made me happy.

However, that being said I still have much work to do on BLACKHEART before I try to put my book in front of agents and editors—my goal for sometime in 2010. I’m hoping revision 4 (and maybe even 5) goes more quickly. There is a writing conference I have my eye on this spring that claims to have “writer/agent speed dating" on the agenda—and I hope to be in that dating pool. Other than that I also just hope to write as much as possible and maybe even get a good start on book number 2.

Happy New Year—and for you writer/author types—happy writing.