My wife the continuity hawk.

Linda read The Manic Pixie Dream Girl Murders for me.

She liked it, but she always notices anything that doesn't fit, anything which isn't consistent.

Which is good, you know.  There are so many things she could criticize me for, but she usually reserves her comments for when I describe a character wrong, or for a plot hole, or anything that doesn't ring true.

I've now written enough books that I've dedicated them all to just about every member of the family, as well as significant friends.  So now what?

Well, I could just as easily dedicate every book to Linda.  She is incredibly supportive and helpful.  For those who don't know, we actually met in a writer's group 33 years ago.  So she knew what she was getting...

I hear so many stories of spouse's who don't understand the time-sink, but Linda totally gets it.  In fact, she does the same thing, disappearing into her room for days at a time.

I was very serious about my writing back when we met, but with a new family, I had to compromise and get some real work, which turned out to be owning a bookstore.  I thought I'd get back to writing one of these days, but 30 years went by...

Linda actually took up serious writing again before me.  She's working on the third book of her series, after being waylaid by changes at the Bookmark.  I'm hoping that she's back on track and that she'll finish her trilogy.  She has a wonderful imagination and empathy for her characters, and I think it gives her joy.  When she finishes, we'll get some physical copies to sell at our stores.
 

Middle of the road music.

Without trying, we've accumulated over 500 music CD's at the Bookmark, which we sell for 5.00 each. Every once in a while, I check them out.

So I'm not going to be judgmental here, everyone has their own taste.  But the selection is the most middle of the road pop you can imagine.  Susan Boyle, Kenny G, Indigo Girls, and on and on.  Not one of them I need to have.

I found an REM album yesterday, a greatest hits Elton John, a Bruce Hornsby, a Willie Nelson standards album, and two Who albums.  (I think the Who CD's where the only ones that rocked in the entire collection, unless you believe Air Supply rocks.)

Anyway, I found it fascinating.  It goes to show, if you will, that our clientele at the Bookmark isn't looking for edgy stuff, apparently.

To coin a phrase: 'Uncanny Mountain.'

I've noticed in several reviews of Tuskers there is a criticism that a Wild Pig Apocalypse wasn't believable. 

At first, this criticism made no sense to me. So hyperintelligent pigs on the rampage is less believable than, what?  Vampires, werewolves, or zombies?

Not to mention, books like Watership Down or Duncton Wood.  I mean, would you write a review that said: "Intelligent bunnies?  How far fetched."

So why did this book face this criticism?

I think I've kind of figured it out.

There's a theory in robotics, and it applies to animation as well, called "The Uncanny Valley." Here's the Wikipedia definition:

"The uncanny valley is a hypothesis in the field of aesthetics which holds that when features look and move almost, but not exactly, like natural beings, it causes a response of revulsion among some observers. The "valley" refers to the dip in a graph of the comfort level of beings as subjects move toward a healthy, natural likeness described in a function of a subject's aesthetic acceptability."

So we can give life and believability to stick figures, but have a harder time accepting figures that look almost like humans.  We can accept Invader Zim easier than Polar Express. 

We just notice what is wrong more...or if you will, what is far fetched.

So Charlotte's Web can be inhabited by talking pigs and spiders but it's understood that it is fantasy, it's a fable.

In other words, in a totally paradoxical way, you can accept Wilbur as real because you understand he isn't real.

But even try to explain why there are such things as "hyper-intelligent pigs" and suddenly the believability bar is raised.  Letting The Force be vague is preferable than going into Mitochondrial DNA.

I'm going to call this Uncanny Mountain....

I've written Tuskers and The Vampire Evolution Trilogy and The Virginia Reed Adventures as realistically as I know how.  I tried to have 'real' people interacting with make-believe creatures -- and by so doing, I've probably made things more difficult for myself. 

Personally, (of course) I think it works to the benefit of the books, but I realize I am asking people to set aside their demand that things be realistic in every way.  This is Dark Fantasy I'm writing.  Horror.  I just assume that if the readers are picking up a speculative genre, they've already shown their willingness to suspend disbelief.

 I've just tried to set it in the real world.  By doing so, I've created a Uncanny Mountain.

  

Red Ink.

When I add material on Word, it comes out in red ink.  So far, on the first three chapters, I've added about 500 words each.  Which if extended all the way through the book would make the book about 15% larger.  That isn't the goal at all.  In fact, the faster moving the story the better, as far as I'm concerned.

But I also want it to be fully fleshed out.

I've now done three chapters of The Last Fedora using the "prose poetry" method.

What I do is, I read the original chapter, then go off with a notepad and pen and just let the words spin.  Just visualize the scene and try to tap into the emotion of it and let the poetry side of my brain wander.  It's turning out that the language isn't all that much more "poetic," though I tend to use metaphors more. But it is more descriptive. Then I look for places to insert the new material.

Mostly, it's just adding information about the characters or descriptions of the scene.  Sometimes I can jigger the tone a little.

For instance, I have a little ten year old boy, Tony, who in some ways is the main protagonist in the book.  In the third chapter, I just wanted to emphasize what a positive, upbeat kid he is.  (An impoverished kid stuck in a bad part of town.) He uses the term "I'm gonna..." all the way through.

His friend makes fun of him.  "I'm gonna, I'm gonna..." Andre mimicked Tony's resolute voice.

That kind of thing.  The basic structure and tone of the novel is there.  I'm not making any structural changes.  I'm just trying to fill in, add a little more texture to the backstory.

So is that a good thing or a bad thing?  Does it add or subtract to the book?

I think it's more or less three steps forward and two steps back.  The straight lines of the narrative are disrupted slightly in order to give the reader more information.  I also have the chance to look for the more dramatic turning points and make the payoffs stronger.  Sometimes I can add a nicely formed sentence or a telling detail.

Linda has read the first two chapters and says that overall it probably is an improvement.  I'm feeling like it probably is too, if I do it right.

I'm not sure yet whether it will need another editing job after this.  I don't think I can afford two editing jobs on the same book.  Maybe just ask Lara to look over the sections in Red Ink, and see if they pass muster.

Or maybe just figure that the publisher will be doing a copy-editing job too.  So far, I've been handing them completely vetted manuscripts -- and I'm not sure that is normal.  Certainly, it's a luxury. 

But I'm trying to establish myself, and a little investment at first (if, at first, I mean the first ten books or so) probably wouldn't be such a bad thing.  If it improves the book, I should do it. Because the book is going to be out there, standing or falling on its merits.  So I need to try to get it right.

Envy.

Boy do I feel it, all the time, at the success of other writers.  No one else ever talks about it, so maybe I'm the only one.

But I take a step back, a deep breath, I think about it, and I try to subdue it.

Linda says, "I like it when you're successful."

"Yeah, but you're a better person than me."

Much like when I get new competition for my store, I have to appeal to both reason and my better nature. Being competitive in the sense of doing my best, trying to learn from the other guy, and responding to their challenges -- that's good.  Being pissed off about it, or trying to 'crush' the competition (which is my first reaction) is bad.

One of Ragnarok's writers, Steve Diamond, is doing very well on Amazon with the book Residue.  

Envy, at first.  Then delight for him.  And then third, the idea that what's good for a Ragnarok author is good for Ragnarok and what's good for Ragnarok is good for me.

I've become much less judgmental about other writers, at the end of the day.  Not only do I fight my envy, but I've become much more tolerant.  Everyone is doing their best.  I'm not going to judge them.

I watch what I say.  I would never post a negative review.  I know how fucking hard this is.

It isn't a zero sum game, this writing.  Their success does not keep me from doing my best.

There are so many factors, that envy simply doesn't enter into it.

What will be will be for reasons beyond what I feel.  So that little burst of envy I allow to exist -- not like I could deny it -- and then I let it subside, and let both reason and mature nature take hold instead. 

Good for you guys.  Good for you, Stephen King and Dean Koontz.  Good for you everyone who is ahead of me in the rankings.

I know how you must feel.  Or I would like to...

New trick for rewriting.

I've mentioned it before as an idea, but I'm actually trying it for the first time.

The Trick:  I read a chapter.  I set it aside.  I pick up a notepad and pen.  I put myself in my self-hypnotic prose poetry frame of mind.  I just start writing down stuff. 

When I'm finished, I go through the chapter and insert the prose poetry wherever applicable.

The only danger is -- I might be getting a little too metaphoric.  So for instance, here's where I'm describing my main character, who is a Golem.

Here's the original passage:  "He was so quiet, so light on his feet, so unmoving when he didn't have to move, that he could be standing right next to you and you would forget he was there."

And this is the line I added:  "He was impossible to read, like trying to find emotion in a boulder."

So is that too much?  Just enough?  Not necessary?

Another example:  "Jacob moved suddenly, lifting the meth head by the neck.  He raised the man's right arm, and then his left, as if trying to decide."

To which I added: "The tweaker was like a rag doll, silent and helpless in the hands of the giant. Sal shivered.  He would have had no problem shooting the guy. Hell, he would happily take a baseball bat to the man's body until he heard the bones break.  But there was something merciless in the way the Golem held his victim, the casual nature of it, like a cruel boy ripping the arms off his sister's doll."

Too much?  Better?  Just enough?  Not necessary?

I feel like my writing is more than adequate, but I've spent most of my effort on storytelling, not the writing itself.  This has been mostly a good thing, I think.  I get right to it, and don't waste a lot of time on extraneous material.

However, I've always felt that I could use a bit more description, a bit more telling detail. 

The other thing that happens is, once I open that 'changing things' door, I tend to find stuff in the chapter that I would like to improve.  Anything that gets me thinking, or inspires me to actually work on the editing part, is a good thing.

I'm risking overdoing it, I suppose.  But I can always trim it before I finish.  Easier to cut than to add, basically. 

The other problem is that Lara has already edited this book, and I'm making so many changes that I worry that I'm negating her edits.

The way to avoid this is to do the "prose poetry" part before sending it off to her.  Problem is, I need a month of not working to gain perspective on a manscript, about the same time it takes for Lara to edit, so it's kind of perfect timing to do it after she sends to book back. 

So I'm basically taking a chance that in trying to make it better, I'm making it worse.

I don't think my original writing is so off that it doesn't pass muster.  That is, the editing is a bonus.  Plus, well, the publishers also edit, so maybe I can count on them. I think I can trust my instincts on this.

If I just pay particular attention to the added words, making sure they are grammatically correct, I should be able to make it work.

I'm torn about it.  I like adding little artistic touches -- makes me feel like a novelist, as opposed to a writer.  So as long as I think it adds something to the book, I think I probably should do it.

Here's a little interview I did.

A little interview I did with Ragnarok Publications.  http://www.ragnarokpub.com/#!QA-Duncan-McGeary-Author-of-the-Tuskers-Series/caet/553eab1f0cf2adc1acf37d3c

One change since I did the interview.  I don't eat bacon everyday like I joked.  In fact, I don't eat pork at all.  These animals are like three year old children.  Can't face that fact anymore.

Got a note from Tim Marquitz, who is apparently editing Tuskers II (lucky him).  He wondered about the use of the word "spell" for someone relieving someone else for guard duty.  Interesting, because to me this seems like a natural term -- "I'll spell you soon."  My parents came from Minnesota, maybe it's a regionalism? Or maybe I just picked it up from reading.

So an easy fix is the use the word "I'll relieve you soon."  Right.  Except I used the word "relief" in the sentence before. 

Writing is hard.

 I haven't written for several days now, and it feels weird.  Like I'm not doing anything.  I really believe I should give myself a rest, if only for a few weeks, and come back to the whole thing fresh.  My son Todd is getting a Masters in Art later in the month and I'm going to the event and all and that kind of thing is completely nerve-wracking for me -- brings out my agoraphobia big time -- but I need to be there. I feel myself getting nervous weeks in advance.  So going to go do that, and then come back and dedicate myself to writing again.