This will come as no surprise to anyone who really knows me. So if you're one of those people, you may want to hold out until next week's column. Otherwise, feel free to read on about my man crush, who may, to some degree or another, have an impact on my writing, or at least what I would hope that it would be.

My man crush, the promised topic of this week, is Aaron Sorkin.

For the uninitiated, and God help me, there are some of you out there, Aaron Sorkin is an American writer of such films as The American President, A Few Good Men - both the screen and stage plays, Moneyball, Charlie Wilson's War, and The Social Network, for which he won the 2010 Academy Award for Best Adapted Screenplay.

More importantly, he is also the writer, creator and creative force behind the television series Sports Night, The West Wing, Studio 60 On the Sunset Strip, and most recently, The Newsroom, HBO's entirely compelling series chronicling the daily trials and crises of a nightly cable newscast in New York.

That Aaron Sorkin.

If you're still not with me, if none of his television work sounds even remotely familiar to you, I'm going to tell you something no sane writer should ever say to his readers: stop reading now. Move on. Close the page and go pick up the Province (I've written for them - I'm allowed to be dismissive). You're not ready to be party to this discussion.

Such is the power of my man crush.

I first became aware of Aaron (I will henceforth commence referring to him by his first name: what kind of crush would it be if I needed to use his surname?) during the run of Sports Night on ABC. By that time I had seen both A Few Good Men and The American President and, in the latter particularly, noticed something different in the storytelling and a hint of what might be yet to come in the dialogue. But it was in Sports Night that both the power of the stories Aaron wanted to tell and a particular form of dialogue and production had begun to develop. In simple terms, it is often referred to as the "Walk and Talk", a signature scene delivery in which characters are seen walking quickly and purposefully through their place of employ while delivering rapid-fire dialogue that builds conflict and raises dramatic tension through each conversation.

It is, in a word, wonderful.

It is critiqued as being artifice, artificial and unrealistic. His detractors claim that no one speaks that way. I'm not so sure. I have worked with, spent time with, and hung out with a lot of very smart people. Sometimes the conversations are incredibly intelligent,snappy, witty, thoughtful, and occasionally even profound.

Sometimes we make fart jokes.

The point is - and I've heard Aaron describe his writing this way - that good speech, carefully crafted speech, is not something we should shy away from. He once said of the characters that inhabit the fictional White House of The West Wing that this is the White House he hoped would be in an ideal world. If thoughtful, dedicated, yes, even patriotic people were really in the hallowed halls of government, this might well be what they would sound like. The same could be said of the sportscasters of Sports Night, the producers of Studio 60 and the journalists of The Newsroom.

His dialogue is often laden with metaphor. It frequently makes allusions to history, politics, literature, the bible and other religious texts. It is sharp, often biting, and rhythmic to the point of poetic. It stretches both the actors' and viewers' vocabulary and occasionally requires a pausing of the pvr to rewind and catch the clearly important piece of dialogue that sailed by. Again, his critics assert his writing is too heavily focused on style over story, and in doing so can be repetitive. There is evidence to support this point of view. But hey: that's a lot of writing. One is bound to repeat oneself occasionally. And if your writing is brilliant, maybe seeing it a second time in a fresh context isn't such a bad thing.

For me, watching some of the better episodes, and there are many from which to choose, can be inspirational and prompt bursts of vigorous creativity. Indeed, after my movie poster from Charlie Wilson's War was damaged and I had to remove it I have been working on obtaining posters from The Newsroom to hang in my office for inspiration. The fact Aaron cast my doppelganger in the lead doesn't hurt either.

Now if only he felt the same way….

Next week: if I worked for my man-crush

Posted by davidrussellbc at 12:01 AM PST

Updated: Thursday, 26 December 2013 9:29 AM PST

Share This Post

Post Comment | Permalink

November is a busy month. We're barely coming down from our post Hallowe'en sugar high when we're confronted with Remembrance Day ceremonies and the sudden onslaught of Christmas shopping expectations is upon us. For the past couple of years we've added the burden of growing moustaches for charity, a noble, if itchy, cause to be sure, but one with which those of us with spouses or significant others may have trouble reaching agreement on.

And since 1999, we're supposed to write a book.

NaNoWriMo is not a Norwegian translation for grandmother. It is National Novel Writing Month, an undertaking by then freelance writer Chris Baty who challenged his authorial friends to write a novel in thirty days. Within a couple of years, Baty's little project had over five thousand participants, anxious to access the muse within and choosing the gloomy month of November - too wet for outdoor pursuits, not yet cold enough for skiing - as the period in which to do it. It now has many thousands of entrants each year, though it is no longer a contest in so much as all the entries are evaluated or even read. But it does have a website where writers will share their stories of their experiences, so-called experts will offer insight and as of this writing, nearly three hundred thousand aspiring writers have registered their participation.

Now I certainly don't need another writing project. What with the nearly full calendar year behind my own self-imposed deadline on W3.doc, taking the month of November to venture off on what is essentially a vanity project seems less than a productive idea. Writing an entire novel in thirty days may seem an impossibly unwieldy task, but really the entrant is challenging themselves only to a paltry fifty thousand words, a mere 1,666 words per day, 6.1 measly double-spaced pages, every day for a month.

By comparison to the three-day novel contest, a Vancouver creation and tradition for thirty-five years, NaNoWriMo is practically for slackers. This is an undertaking in which I long planned to participate, if not for the surely high quality novella I'd be setting out to produce, then at least for the war stories I could swap with fellow participants, sitting in the bar, sipping extra dry martinis like Hemingway. Yes, I know Hemingway blew his own brains out and he never even entered either contest but I'm sure I could handle it.

No pressure.

But pressure is the point, or at least it was for me. I was rather hoping I would find the prospect of a month-long writing challenge inspiring enough to get a solid burst of writing done on W3.doc, simply substituting my existing project for the new one to be created as part of the challenge. Adding fifty thousand words would put me within striking distance of finishing the book altogether; with my target word count at between ninety and one hundred thousand words (unlike the behemoth first draft of Last Dance that weighed in at nearly a hundred and forty thousand), meeting the NaNoWriMo standard would have brought me to the mid eighty thousand range.

November's word count in W3.doc so far: eleven.

In fairness to myself (being fair to myself is a therapeutic skill on which I continue to work), they are eleven pretty quality words. But if I'm going to meet NaNoWriMo's objective, my daily output needs to increase somewhat: starting today I'm aiming for two thousand, nine hundred and forty-one. How hard can twelve pages per day be?

I'm hoping not to ask Hemingway.

Next week: My man crush

Posted by davidrussellbc at 12:01 AM PST

Share This Post

Post Comment | Permalink

I have previously reflected on my curiosity about the creative spaces used by other writers. In part, seeing the workspace of writers, particularly those I admire, was meant to perhaps provide motivation to help get past those occasional – and occasionally much longer-lasting than I’d like – hurdles of the writers’ block variety that have oft plagued in the past year or so. I suppose it isn’t so much that I want to replicate their spaces per se, though I have to admit I would be thrilled to be able to afford to build a replica of some of the great writing spaces I’ve seen.

Lately I have added a new environment to the mental list of places in which I’d like to write: a mobile one.

Though I watched all six seasons of Breaking Bad within the past six months or so, my affinity for recreational vehicles is not born of Walter White worship. And though I occasionally fancy myself as a low-grade superhero, neither is my Winnebago wistfulness derived from the exploits of Billy Batson and his mentor. My interest in the traveling muse mobile, I think, originates with Sam Walton.

The Wal-Mart founder was, allegedly, a big fan of the rv lifestyle, whatever that may mean. As RV's became larger, and the costs of renting a spot and plugging in at a campsite increased, Walton determined that Wal-Mart parking lots being vacant for the late evening and middle of the night hours, would make for good temporary, overnight parking spots for the rv enthusiast. To be sure, it's likely Mr. Walton, retail capitalism defined, saw the potential for a bunch of happy campers, so to speak, waking up in the parking lot, recognizing they're in need of groceries or supplies and stocking up before they move on to the rest of their destination, even if that was just the Wal-Mart parking lot a day's drive down the highway. But his passion for the motorhome experience became, for a time at least, corporate policy, and while he was alive, traveling rv'ers were welcomed in the parking lots of Wal-Marts across America, an experience that has been well documented.

For some reason, I find this incredibly motivating.

Part of it stems from a story that I would love to write: I want to rent an RV (buying one based on the royalties typically earned by a Canadian author is out of the question), drive around North America, documenting and telling the stories of the people I'd meet at Wal-Marts along the way. I'm sure it's been done, though I have yet to find a version that is the story as I would expect it to be told. But the experience itself is a story, or at least a big part of it. The idea of driving around, seeing things at a pace that can't be matched by aircraft, being able to pull over, whip out the laptop and contribute to a story, whatever that story may be (assuming I can get Graydon Carter to pay my expenses I assume it's the traveling RV writer piece, with a bit of the novel on the side). Even the mental image of sitting at the table, scenery passing by (keep in mind I've passed driving duties off to my wife at this point), inspired by the travels, is incredibly satisfying.

In fact, I have a young adult novel brewing in the back of my mind that has evolved out of the mental imagery created by motorhome travel daydreams. Were it not for the incredible delay in reaching the end of W3.doc, I would consider venturing into that literary territory right now - assuming I could get hold of the RV.

My wife, always my biggest supporter, was initially not quite as on board with getting on board a rolling homestead as I. Of course, once she came up with her own story to write, inspired by my imagined road trip, we're thinking of ourselves as more Jonathan and Faye Kellerman than Doug and Carrie Heffernen or Phil and Claire Dunphy.

I would even consider giving up my backyard, writing shack in exchange for a not terribly mobile WV (I think of it more as a writing vehicle than a recreational one) that could live in what would admittedly need to be a bigger back yard. Some writers, not having room in the house for an office or loft, move their writing to the driveway inside a writing trailer, which has the dual function of being a nearby but separate writing space that could also be mobile. This remodelled classic belonging to my friend and improv comedienne extraordinaire, Margret Nyfors, would suit me just fine.

Of course, it isn't at all beyond the scope of possibility that my WV quest is yet another in a long line of things I think I need to keep me writing or get me writing more. And there's little evidence to support the idea that would happen.

On the other hand, one never knows until one drives.

Next week: Me and NanaRimo

Posted by davidrussellbc at 12:01 AM PST

Updated: Thursday, 7 November 2013 9:13 PM PST

Share This Post

Post Comment | Permalink

Shortly after I went to my current publisher I received an email from a woman claiming to be my publicist. Imagine my surprise. Having had my first book published by a ‘boutique press’ consisting of a small, dedicated publishing staff, I was taken aback by the notion of an employee whose responsibilities didn’t include, well, all aspects of publication.

 
To be fair, I can’t say definitively that having an in-house publicist has directly translated into higher sales volumes for Last Dance than for Deadly Lessons. Which brings me to my inquiry of the week (doesn’t everyone have one of those?): how much value is there to a writer having a publicist?

 
Now before the flood of publicists starts deluging me with emails about why I need their services (I recognize I'm placing a great deal of faith in this column's ability to draw the readership of hundreds of anyone, let alone the sub-categorgy of readers that are publicists), I acknowledge that for some forms of writing, particularly if the writing is non-fiction and you have an area of expertise to offer, having publicists working on your behalf could really prove beneficial in getting an expert author in front of the appropriate media to discuss the area of expertise and, hopefully, push their book at the same time.

 
But what about those of us scribes who toil in fiction land?

Principally, this question stems from the fact I did something recently I don't think I've ever done (as a writing device I'm tempted to leave this hanging awhile just to let your imaginations fill in the proverbial blanks). But here's what it is: I followed an advertising link posted on Facebook. In that spooky way social media can do, Zuckerburg and company determined I was a writer (I guess I haven't exactly made it a secret) and targeted their advertisers to me, in this case an advertisement for the services of a publicist.

 
What can I say? I was intrigued. I clicked. And I found myself reading about the services a large (at least they claim to be) publicist company in New York could do for me and my writing career. Sure, you might be thinking, they'll help to promote you, they'll get you on the Today Show (okay, they didn't exactly promise that but that's what I envision) but at what cost? Can a small time, sophomore author from Vancouver afford the services of a big time publicist?

 
One would think not. But here's the thing: like so much of the contemporary service industry, this publicist promises to be 'pay as you go.' That is, they only charge you when they get you work, or appearances, or publicity, I suppose.

 
And so I sent them an email. Nothing fancy. Nothing too detailed. Basically I just filled out an online form to express some interest. And lo and behold, within an hour I had heard back. What was I interested in? Did I want them to call me? What kind of service would I be hoping to get? How many public appearance was I hoping they would be able to arrange and set up?

 
And, of course, having the answer to none of those questions, I have done nothing in response.

 
I know, I know. A company advertising to all and sundry on Facebook does probably not carry the kind of clout that would have me sitting on the sofa next to Matt Lauer any time soon. But would engaging a publicist, especially one who I don't have to pay any  kind of retainer up front, get me more oppportunities to sit on someone's couch, or radio studio, or magazine office guest chair, and help promote my writing?

 
And what, exactly, would my publicist be promoting me as? Mystery author? Gotta think there are bigger names than me to get interviewed. Author with an educational bent? Expert on hate crimes, at least in part the subject of Last Dance?

 
So while I stew over those possibilities, my email sits unanswered and the publicist has surely moved on to other potential clients. But what if? What if I know enough to be considered a guest with sufficient expertise in an area to be a worthy client?

 
I have to think more exposure could only be a good thing.

 
On the other hand, P.T. Barnum probably would have bought shares in Facebook.

 
Next week: motorhomes and other muses.

Posted by davidrussellbc at 12:01 AM PDT

Updated: Thursday, 31 October 2013 9:24 AM PDT

Share This Post

Post Comment | Permalink

Call it what you will, incentives are what get people to work harder - Nikita Krushchev.

For some, for the lucky ones, I presume, motivation comes easily. I have a story to tell; I’m going to tell it. But as I've written before sometimes it's not enough.

Sometimes as a writer I need a bit of extrinsic motivation as opposed to simply intrinsic. In fact, I often need a whole lot of extrinsic motivation. I know that I'm not alone. Like any other endeavour, we make deals with ourselves. If I do my homework I'll let myself play the computer game or watch my favourite television show. If I go to the gym I'll let myself have the Blizzard - or, in my case, the glass of wine (I'll take red wine over ice cream any day of the week, assuming, of course, I actually agree to limit myself to either one or the other, regardless of how many sets and reps I've done).

Shouldn't being able to write a novel - and I've done it twice - be reward enough? But sometimes it isn't and I wonder if I'm alone on that front.

The simple fact is that writers, particularly the non-blockbuster selling variety - are not exclusively making their living at the art form. It used to be that at the end of the day, by the time the work day was over, a (sadly) little time was spent with my daughter, dinner, bath, stories and bedtime are taken care of, I'm done. Getting in front of the computer and getting the writing done (and this column is already a day late of my usual publication date, given the day job being a ‘fourteen-hour day job’ this week, I hasten to add). And the older I get (let's just say 'beyond forty') the harder it is for me to consider getting up in the morning to be creative.

And not that financial gain should ever be the motivation for the creative process, but earning a living from the writing is significantly enough out of reach that it doesn’t really count as a motivational factor.

And it isn’t as though I don’t enjoy the writing when I can get myself into the headspace to really get some creative flow going. But I am certainly finding that right now I need more than a warm fuzzy feeling of accomplishment that follows a successful writing session.

Thus, for me, I’ve offered myself a reward. When I get the draft ready to go I’m buying myself a new laptop – something I did as a celebration when Deadly Lessons was completed – in fact we bought new desktop and laptop computers in celebration, pretty much assuring the likelihood of any publishing profit was nullified. I didn’t buy myself a significant celebratory treat after Last Dance so I’ve convinced myself even more than I’m deserving of one.

I love my iPad but my inner muse is convincing me I’ll enjoy a new Macbook even more so.

What motivates you to keep going when the creative juices aren’t flowing as rapidly as you’d like?

Next week: Am I important enough to need a publicist?

Posted by davidrussellbc at 11:56 AM PDT

Share This Post

Post Comment | Permalink

The Curse of Malenfer Manor

By Iain McChesney

Wayzgoose Pres

In previous posts I promised (threatened?) to share some of what I’m reading – it’s always a question raised by readers and novice writers (when I say that it sounds to me like I’m the grizzled veteran author, doesn’t it?), which obligation I’ve dutifully met a couple of times since.

My review this week serves dual purpose: fulfilling that pact and promoting the work of a fellow local author. Full disclosure: I know and have broken bread with the author in question but lest you question the veracity of the review, he did make me promise I’d be brutally honest.

I confess I wasn’t entirely sure into what I had fallen as I began the journey into Iain McChesney’s The Curse of Malenfer Manor. Part historical fiction, part war drama, part paranormal, another part class study, and a murder mystery, with a hero whose sidekick is one of the most spiritedly unusual a reader is likely to find. Set in France of 1919, the story follows the journey of an ex-pat Irish discharged soldier who is visited by the ghost of his French lieutenant (don’t even ask me how they get the letter ‘f’ sound into that word). Once Dermot comes to terms with the reality of his commune with the dead, he accepts his fallen comrade’s request to accompany to the latter’s family estate and manor to deliver the news the now posthumous solder can not himself deliver: there are two heirs to the family fortune the family is as yet aware. And while the deceased father wishes his sons to inherit their due, by doing so he fears they will also inherit the misfortune that has traditionally befallen the male line in the Malenfer clan.

A key strength is McChesney’s skillful, occasionally poetic descriptions of time and place. Early scenes showing Dermot and Arthur in, or, as sappers largely under, the trenches and battlefields of Great War France, paint horrifying pictures of places we’d rather not be. Similarly, the manor and countryside is beautifully depicted that while fictitious in the specific, so ably sets the reader in the place and era in which the complex tale occurs.

McChesney’s Dermot is more than the classic ‘reluctant’ amateur sleuth, thrust into a generations-long mystery he didn’t know existed, Dermot’s own demons from troubled family seem always bubbling just below the surface as he navigates the complexities of the family Malenfer. His outsider status in the family not only complicates his ability to carry out his dead friend’s final wish, it is further complicated, alas, as he falls for his comrade’s young sister, a love that grows more quickly than a contemporary reader might find feasible but fitting with the muddied amorous protocols of the day it feels entirely genuine. In Simonne, McChesney has created the reluctant trophy heiress, an Elizabeth Bennett for the new world, not quite free to make her own choices, not willing to blindly accept those made for her.

It is at times dark – very dark – and McChesney doesn’t shy away from the violence, which is a lovely juxtaposition against the Victorian manners of the day, though the violence portrayed is never gratuitous. Rather it is splayed on the page with an appropriate horror; we are shocked at its rage but not repulsed by its portrayal – a tricky balance to be sure. But it also has moments of hazy comic insight – I chuckled aloud at numerous turns of phrase, both for their wit and their entirely appropriate placement in time.

The book weaves a fine blend of tales: the horrors of war, the injustice of social class, the complexities of family, while at its root offering a classic who dunnit – a mystery wrapped in the cloak of historical fiction. Thus it is a story for fans of a variety of genres: historical fiction, ethereal adventure and, of course, mystery.

Of course, for me, stepping away from the confines of crime writing in which I spend what writing hours I have, is a refreshing opportunity to visit crime writing through a different lens, set against the backdrop of a time I know only through history books (and the history lessons I once taught). I see it as an entirely challenging prospect, one in which my colleague has masterfully succeeded.

Next week: incentives.

Posted by davidrussellbc at 12:01 AM PDT

Updated: Monday, 14 October 2013 5:34 PM PDT

Share This Post

Post Comment | Permalink

In the same way that many television series have an A and a B story (and sometimes even a C) each week, often times it seems that in crime writing, writing about crime isn't sufficient. We also want write about "issues."

At 'book-ie' events, including at the recent Word Vancouver festival, it is not uncommon to hear writers talk about their fictional works being framed around a real-life social, political or economic issue they wish to explore. Indeed, there are perceived sub-genres in the field so readers who wish their crime books to be focused around poverty, or drug laws or prostitution.

To be sure, sometimes it happens by accident. In Last Dance (did you note the link to the Goodreads page?), Winston is defending the rights of a student who is forbidden from bringing his same-sex boyfriend to the graduation dinner and dance. I can't say that I specifically set out to right about gay rights issues (Last Dance origins story coming soon), or LGTBQ issues but sure enough, there I was at an LGTBQ educational display and on the table, among the books on display was Last Dance. When I asked the coordinator about it she replied "Your book is about a student who gets killed when he protests against the school for discriminating against him based on his sexual preferences. It is an LGBTQ book." Bammo - instant issue book.

I have heard other crime writers tell me they wanted to "explore" an issue through their fiction as well. One fellow panelist at the aforementioned festival, whose current series focuses on a transit security officer, stated quite publicly that there were "issues about public safety on transit" she was interested in delving into as part of her fiction and was working with sources who would able to provide her with inside information to that end. Her comment put me into chicken and the egg kind of thinking: what comes first - the issue or the story?

Certainly in my case, the story was what the story was and I suppose I began exploring the issue of how LGBTQ teenagers are treated as a result of my traveling down that story path. But I find it intriguing the idea of having an issue or cause about which I feel strongly and creating a story around it. Of course what concerns me most is that that seems like so much more work.

On the other hand, now that I've heard of these types of plans to develop stories to discuss issues I find myself worrying that if my stories aren't high minded enough to explore important elements of society's ills then they may not be serious enough for publication consideration.

In W3.doc, as I previously discussed, Winston is focused on determining the story behind the unusual disappearance of a former student. On the surface, a simple missing persons case that morphs into deeper problems the more Winston finds out. And certainly as the story develops, Winston will find that the bad guys are of a particular kind that have actually been in the news lately (which is sort of cool given that the idea for this book appeared several years ago). But I wouldn't yet call it "an issue." I'm not sure the reader is going to learn a whole lot about the issue by reading the book; I just think it might provide a little bit of interesting context for why things happen and give a little bit more depth to both the bad guys and the victims.

Hopefully that will be enough. Otherwise I better start scouring the news for my next major issue to turn into W4.doc. Hmmm....how would a high school law teacher solve the government shut down in the U.S.?

Next week: another review - this time of a new book by a fellow local author.

Posted by davidrussellbc at 12:01 AM PDT

Share This Post

Post Comment | Permalink

Often times, I find myself writing in a local Starbucks, especially when I'm working on this weekly column, often completed on Wednesday evening while my daughter is in her gymnastics class. I know I'm not alone; walk into Starbucks or any other caffeine dispensing organization and not seeing someone sitting at their laptop (iPad in my case), crafting the next great novel - or, being Vancouver, screenplay, would now be out of the ordinary.

But I have needs. And my needs include quiet.

At the risk of going into the corporate history of Starbucks - and as a frequent patron I confess I have read Howard Schultz's book, it seems to me that Starbucks as an experience has changed – not for the better.

It used to be that when you went into the local Starbucks, there was the smell of coffee – and even Schultz admits that has diminished due to the fancy new equipment, - some comfortable chairs, a slight buzz of muted conversations, and soft  – did you catch the key word, soft – music.

Something happened.

I don’t want to be the one to tell someone how to run their business – and given the rate of expansion of the Starbucks empire it’s clearly doing okay –but some of the “improvements” have not improved the experience at all. Certainly, many of the stores have gotten bigger. I have to imagine one needs to be able to move a certain volume of coffee in order to remain profitable and having more space for more people surely equals more cups of coffee sold. So the buzz has gone a bit louder. And if that's all that had changed I'd probably be okay with it.

But someone also found the volume knob on the sound system.

The "coffee house experience" can certainly have coffee house music. And I may have reached the age where already I see the past through rose-coloured glasses but I am convinced that when Starbucks first appeared on the scene in Vancouver late in the 1980's, the music was a background part of the ambience, not the principal ingredient of the recipe. Certainly, in my memory, the music was jazz.  It may occasionally have ventured into classical. But here's the thing with both genres: unless you're at some kind of live performance or blasting a Bose-produced, stereo-headphone contained concert, both are meant to be quietly in the background of one's consciousness, perhaps permitting the muse to bob and surf a musical wave without streaming its way into the forefront of the consciousness.

When I step into the Gap or Guess and the music (I don't think it's even necessary for me to say "horrid music") is blaring to the point I don't want to stay in the store, I get it. I'm not their target demographic. But I would venture the assertion that in Starbucks, I am. I'm a fortyish (let's not niggle over single digit details), professional, middle-class guy, and while certainly there are times I'm taking my java to go, en route to wherever my admittedly busy life is pointing me, when I want to sit and relax and enjoy a carefully crafted latte, either to spend some contemplative time writing my weekly column or my novel, or having visiting with a friend or colleague, loud - really loud - pop music is not conducive to those experiences.  The Starbucks shop on United Boulevard in Coquitlam, at which I spent last Wednesday evening writing last Thursday's column, was so unpleasantly clamourous this week I've taken a pass and I'm writing in a Wendy's. It too lacks ambience and I've traded caffeine for poutine but it's comparatively peaceful.

And I'd further venture that was not part of the Starbucks vision for the coffee-house experience, based as it was, originally, on replicating or at least being suggestive of the European coffee shop experience.

To be sure, it's possible Starbucks is seeking quicker turnaround of its patrons. It's hard to imagine the writer types want to spend any significant amount of time in such a blaring blast of noise and maybe that suitably clears up tables faster for the next customer, unlikely to want to read, reflect or write for long in what used to be a coffee-infused haven from the cacophony of modern life, rather than another example of it.

If so, maybe there's a marketing opportunity for caffeinated competitors: come sip with us...in peace and quiet.

Next week: issue writing

Posted by davidrussellbc at 12:01 AM PDT

Share This Post

Post Comment | Permalink

Not tension, you understand, but tense.

Recently, I read a book by David Rosenfelt called Bury the Lead. It was an enjoyable enough tale (hey I promised the occasional book review)and I like the protagonist so I'll likely pick up more of his books. But what struck me as I was reading the book was his use of tense, specifically, the present tense.

Before you protest of flashbacks to eighth grade English class, let me assure you this isn't a rant by a hostile grammar fanatic, though I maintain there is always time for good grammar (which may affect how quickly - or whether - you receive a response from me when you send a text message to my phone). Story tense, if you will, has a significant impact on the telling of the story.

It was an issue with which I struggled when I was into a second draft or so of Deadly Lessons. For the uninitiated, that book, and its sequel are both written in the past tense. But sometime during the initial editing of the first book, I was also reading a book by renowned crime novelist Patricia Cornwell. At the time I was a fan, though I confess I lost interest in her Kay Scarpetta series. That could be a post for another week.

But one of the things that I noticed in the book I was reading at the time (I don't recall exactly which one it was) was that Cornwell switched from writing in the past tense to the present (she has since gone back and forth a few times). It kind of set me into a panic; here was this famous, super best selling writer changing her story telling mode. I guess I should do the same.

So I spent many hours re-writing the draft of Deadly Lessons into the present tense. And I hated it. Not just the doing the work (I'm rarely a fan of extra work); but the outcome as well. Suddenly the book had lost its tone and it didn't seem to work for me anymore and I suspected wouldn't work for the publisher, much less the reader, either. So then I spent many more hours putting it back (I know, I know, you're thinking surely I had saved a version to which I could return. I had but I had also made other edits I thought worthy of keeping while in the process of present tensifying so going back to the past involved significant more work...again).

Though I don't have specific statistics to back up my theory (I already mentioned I'm not a huge fan of extra hard work), I have read a number of analyses of past vs present tense writing, particularly with regard to fiction writing, that suggests much if not most fiction writing seems to be written in the past tense. A common description given is that books written in the present tense read more like a screenplay than a novel, and I agree. Though I don't know how many novel readers - or readers in general - spend much time reading screenplays and wouldn't necessarily be distracted by that fact - there is something inherently less real to me about telling the story as it happens. Certainly the screenplay comparison is especially apt when the present tense story is told in the third person. "Winston enters the classroom," seems far more removed from the story than "I walked into the classroom."

It can be argued, and it has been that present tense can lend a greater sense of immediacy to the story, as though the reader is traveling along on the journey. But the story can also feel like a running commentary of the protagonist's day, with no time or reflection between the action and the re-telling to winnow out the important details. The story comes across as occasionally feeling forced and clumsy and while I enjoyed the essential plot details of Rosenfelt's book, the present tense was enough a distraction to frequently take me out of the story. And no one needs that.

Thus, for now, future installments of Winston's adventures shall remain in the past tense, at least until I can find a way to make present tense work without distracting from the story.

Don't hold your breath.

Next week: Shhh! I'm trying to write.

News Flash: (in case you didn't get here via my website where this was also posted). This weekend is Word Vancouver Festival (formerly Word on the Street) at and around the downtown Vancouver Public Library. I'll be at the Crime Writers of Canada table (selling books!) between 12:30 and 2:30 and will appear on a moderated panel on crime writing at 2:50 inside the library in the Alma VanDusen room - ground floor. Come down - bring friends - meet authors - buy Canadian books!

Posted by davidrussellbc at 12:01 AM PDT

Updated: Friday, 27 September 2013 10:28 AM PDT

Share This Post

Post Comment | Permalink

In the last episode of "W3.doc Update" we determined that travel to Europe turned out to be a conducive to awaking the muse.

Turns out that going back to work is less so. Significantly less so.

To refresh your memory, W3.doc sees the return of Winston Patrick, approximately two years after the end of Last Dance. Winston is now a seasoned teacher, at least in so much as he's in his third year so he isn't a complete rookie. He doesn't consider himself especially better at it but at least he's not brand new. The book opens on parent teacher night, following which Winston has a conversation with a student from his first year. They reminise and during the conversation Winston is shocked to find out that another student who had been in the same class disappeared on a family hunting trip and hasn't been seen from since and is presumed dead.

Winston is, of course, shocked to hear this. The very notion that Christopher (I'm not entirely convinced that I'll stick with that name but for now it works for a specific purpose - was hunting at all seems completely incongruous with the gentle, quirkly student he remembers. What's even more odd is that Christopher disappeared nearly two years earlier - shortly after the events of Last Dance reached their conclusion and Winston had never heard anything about it. In a high school, bastions of gossip among both students and the teachers who work there, that such a momentous incident would go unheralded seems difficult to believe.

What's harder to believe is that the Vancouver Police Department, including Winston's best friend and star major crimes detective Andrea Pearson hadn't heard of it either. To be sure, a hunting mishap was unlikely to have occurred inside the Vancouver city limits - putting it out of the jurisdiction of the VPD. But Winston and Andrea are convinced that if a Vancouver citizen has disappeared, somehow she would have known about it, especially one from Winston's school; Andrea's zealous protection of all things related to Winston would surely have meant she'd have an ear tuned to anything that happens involving the place he works.

But the more that Andrea and Winston try to uncover what happened to Christopher, the more roadblocks they encounter. It seems a high-ranking officer in the RCMP has reason to keep the investigation - or even a report of a missing person - secret not only from Winston and Andrea but from his only colleagues of the Red Serge as well.

Does it really count as a spoiler alert if I haven't finished writing the book?

When I last left off, I had committed some violence, which has taken me awhile to get to in the book because, unlike many crime novels, there hasn't been a murder yet - or at least if there has it has yet to be discovered. It wasn't a conscious decision to introduce violence or specifically to hurt Winston - but that's what's happened. I wonder what it says about my relationship with the protagonist I created when I feel a need to physically abuse him in every novel. Freud would have a field day.

On the plus side, I'm not feeling hopelessly bogged down by writer's block. I have slowed down to be sure but right now that's mostly due to the insanity of the first few weeks of the school year. Add to that the fact I've returned to university for the first time in over a decade, a couple of consulting projects on which I'm working and occasional performances (hosting the Amazing Improv Race tonight, Thursday the 19th at 7:30 at The Improv Centre on Granville Island) and I'll chalk up my lack of literary output to just plain being busy.

But being too busy to write is not something that's healthy for me in any more than the short term and not a habit into which I'm planning to allow myself to fall. Thus I'm taking pains over the coming weeks - once I get past a couple of big time-sucking obstacles - to scale back those other outside commitments that block my W3.doc productivity.

Draft by Christmas remains the goal. Stay tuned.

Next week: tense. That's right…tense.

ps. Still hoping readers will take up the call to get those reviews posted on Goodreads and Amazon.

Posted by davidrussellbc at 12:01 AM PDT

Share This Post

Post Comment | Permalink