Outside of a book, a dog is a man’s best friend. Inside of a dog, it’s too dark to read.
Reordered a big section of the book tonight, around twenty pages, and I edited that into shape. You have to kill your darlings, and nothing is precious if it gets in the way of the story. The writing, as I see it, is telling a story and evoking emotions and sensations with nothing but words.
Hell of a trick, if you think about it.
So, down to the last hurdle now, potentially. That’s before the beta reading, which will throw up things I’ve not seen as it always does but it feels like a good book now. Of course, I might say all this and it doesn’t work for people. I have made it into a story with a beginning, a middle and an end. I feel that it works though, with the changes, it has motion. A story that doesn’t move isn’t good for anyone. If the characters are exactly the same by the end of the piece, then it’s not good. No one survives a story unscathed because to them, it’s their lives and you are choosing the best, most evocative moments. Too much detail kills the pace, just show me enough to know the history is there and I will do the rest of it.
That’s all fan fiction is and although I have no interest in writing it, it’s a massive tribute to the creation that it continues to ask the reader to imagine more beyond the borders of the story itself.
I hope this works, it’s been a wonderful experience and I hope some of that translates to the page. Then, another polish and I will put it to the agent for their review and then see if it can find a patron. Still, onwards and upwards. There will be other books, and better books because I learn more and apply it each time out.
Originally posted on Whatever:
“It’s all beautiful and nothing lasts.” It’s a phrase that showed up in a dream of mine last night, as something I said to my wife as we were crossing a street in a big city. The street was where her father’s family’s farm used to be, in the dream — something that had some resonance in the real world, as her father’s family’s farm is now part of the Dayton International Airport. The dream me made the comment not about the farm in particular, but about life in general, prompted by the farm turned city street.
And it’s a true statement. All of it is beautiful, and it doesn’t last. I’m old enough now to be at the point where I see the movement of life, and me through it, to see people I like and love pass away and to see people I like and love grow up…
View original 324 more words
I made notes for a story off of this. Damn you Miss Charmley and your evocative poetry.
John really tells whiskey soaked tales of romance and the heart. He’s someone I’ve never met but would have a drink with him.
Originally posted on johncoyote:
My wild Texas rose
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
Good song make us write.
My wild Texas rose
Kind mistress night brought her to me. The Austin, Texas bars brought people from all places together.
When the moon took over the night sky. People from different places fell into one hope.
Dance, laughter and to enjoy the mystery of the night.
I went into a tavern/dance club and I saw three pretty ladies dancing together to the song of Bob Seger “Turn the page” on the dance floor . I drank my drink and I enjoyed the view. All of sudden. A beautiful strawberry blond hair girl asked me. Can you dance or are you waiting for the booze to kick in and to forget who you are? I held silence and I answered slowly. I’m just wasting time and trying to find reasons and purpose to be alive.
View original 456 more words
Found this and wanted to share with you.