It is an acknowledged fact that once an addict, always an addict. That is, there really is no such thing as a "recovering" addict. The recent death of Phillip Seymour Hoffman, once clean and sober for a period of over twenty years who was found dead from injected heroin, is evidence enough of that truism.

I fear those suffering from writer's block may have the same condition in perpetuity: we may get past it and find periods of creative productivity but are prone to relapses of literary inactivity, potentially increasing in frequency.

Now before you protest my equating what some would label a frivolous lack of written output with a serious, mental illness that is at the root of addiction...relax: I am simply drawing an analogy. And clearly, I'm drawing from a frustration borne of a resurgence of a condition that regular readers of this column (I know you're out there) have heard me discuss before: I'm behind the wall of writer's block again.

But wait, you might be saying, wasn't it just into the New Year you were claiming your resolution, and a simple one at that, was showing real signs of productivity increase, that your commitment to a mere twenty minutes per day, totally manageable, said you, was seeing twenty minutes sessions in the neighbourhood of six to nine hundred words?

All true.

Late in December I read an article posted by a friend and writerly colleague about committing to just twenty minutes per day. How hard could that be? Turn off the email, the social media, the desire to research picayune pieces of fact needed for the story,  and just write. And for a period, however brief, it was pretty effective. Coupled with the Jerry Seinfeldian calendar approach to motivation, it certainly appeared to be working. And I wasn't alone. Many's the article and blog post that have been written extolling the Seinfeld virtue. L.A.'s The Writer's Store even sells a wall-mounted, year-long calendar to support the writerly resolution.

Alas, it didn’t last.

What sells Seinfeld, apparently, is the satisfaction of seeing the unbroken chain of ‘X’s on the calendar, prominently displayed where he does his writing (the obsessive compulsive in me wants to know if he takes the calendar off the wall and takes it with him to post in hotel rooms when he travels, which he does a lot). And while my calendar was just a monthly one and I had yet to post it on a wall – maybe I do have commitment issues – I did take satisfaction in seeing the continuous chain of unbroken X’s.

Until I broke it.

To be fair to me (hey, someone’s gotta be), I got some kind of nasty stomach flu or food poisoning. I mean…nasty. I simply was not able to get myself beyond the square footage of bathroom or bedroom (too much information?). I even wrote “sick” with my Sharpie in the calendar square where my X ought to have been. But you know what? The damage was done.

For me, anyways, there is something about breaking that chain that, well, gives me permission to break it another day, and then another, and another…. Suddenly two weeks have gone by and I haven’t worked on my novel at all. Not a word. None. Zero. Zilch.

The litany of things getting in the way of my twenty minutes of writing include, but are not limited to:

• Work
• My university course
• Fatigue
• Lack of writer’s cardigan
• Desire for a wood-burning fireplace
• Ambivalence
• Concern about the Middle East
• Global Warming

So here we are, middle of February with a nearly blank calendar and not much of a plan. In theory, I’d like to start in March and regain the satisfaction of filling in the squares. I’m even planning on bringing the calendar with me to Costa Rica to keep up the pace.

I mean, it’s only twenty minutes a day, right? How hard can that be?

Posted by davidrussellbc at 12:01 AM PST

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For more than a week now, my website and blog have been down, just following last week's column. Hopefully, it wasn't the content that knocked it off line. It was the second part of my look at the origins of Winston Patrick - check it out - you be the judge.

Since I had no website, I didn't write a column on writing this week. Alas, now that we're up and running again, I do have this freelance piece, an essay/op-ed I pitched to a few publications in late December to no avail. Waste not want not. This week, in a departure from the regular writing column, I give you...

******* 

Whatever latent nationalistic stirrings lay dormant within me were shaken and stirred as we ventured south, braving the torrential rain, the traffic-soaked I-5 freeway, and the holiday-week crowds (mention Boxing Day down here and you get quizzical looks and questions about it maybe being Mohammed Ali's birthday) to the bustling metropolis of Linwood, Washington, whose principal raison d'etre (don't try that terminology either) seems to be the existence of Alderwood Mall, where we found the shrine at the end of our pilgrimage.

The American Girl store.

For the uninitiated, American Girl dolls are one of the latest high-end toy fads to strike consumer crazed pre-adolescents for the "we have more money than sense" crowd. Base cost: $110 for the doll.

To the best of my observations - and I confess I may not have been paying as close attention as I could have from my pink pleather covered bench on the sidelines with other dads - there were no American Boys available for purchase.

Thankfully, the doll itself at least comes clothed so it is theoretically possible to retreat following doll selection. Practically speaking though, one most engage in outfitting the new family member in outfits ranging from cheerleader to cyclist to party girl or, because it's holiday week after all, indulge in a $90 special that includes three outfits that can be fashionably mixed and matched.

Some of the accessories include pets (goes well with the fall walking attire), skis or, as in the selection my daughter made, perhaps leading toward future career ambitions, the injury ensemble, including crutches, cast and other accoutrements indicative of her chosen doll being less than proficient at the aforementioned skis.

Full disclosure, because I don't want to be seen as a member of the more money than sense crowd, our acquisition was financed by our nine year old herself, an accumulation of modest weekly allowance, birthday and Christmas money gifts, along with the sale of toys no longer in use. It's practically an economics lesson unto itself: are you sure you want to spend all your money in one place, Honey?

If a prospective American Girl purchaser is feeling particularly glamorous - and flush with cash - spa treatments for AG are available where your new or returning friend can indulge in a new hairstyle or, wait for it, have her ears pierced.

If all this spending is draining more than just the wallet, young shoppers can relax and recharge in the adjoining café where AG treats, including high tea sittings in the afternoon requiring reservations. Seating, of course, is also available for AG dolls themselves alongside their, what, owners? Parents?

I wanted to be disgusted or at least 'tsk' down my nose at this flagrant display of crass consumerism. Looking around it's easy to see middle class excess but instead I saw opportunity.

If part of the pull of these mysteriously popular dolls is their appeal to patriotic virtue, why not a homegrown counterpart? Thus, I present to you Canadian Girl, trademark pending, replete with all those assumed elements of Canada sure to draw domestic and international visitors alike.

Our stores will be tastefully decorated in plaid. All our Canadian Girl dolls will have the ardent glow of being well exercised, spending time in the fresh air and regularly visiting publicly funded health care. Each will come standard with a t-shirt that offers an apology for any offence, real or perceived.

Want to buy additional outfits for your CG? We'll have plenty. There is the obligatory Red Serge for the RCMP-GRC-CG. An assortment of Canadian NHL hockey jerseys will be available, with special discounts offered to encourage the purchase of Edmonton Oilers apparel. Clothing lines will also include red mittens, down vests, and t-shirts proclaiming the purchaser's choice of admiration or disdain for Rob Ford.

West Coast CG's will come standard with umbrellas, while those from east of the Rockies will have a toque, though for American visitors we'll have to explain what that is.

Accessories will be an important feature of our product line up, including the sure to be popular Timbit carry box and double-double. If your doll-lover is transportation minded, you can take home the CG Zamboni, dog sled, or the always fun, inadequate, underfunded CG public transit.

Canadian Girl will show the world we too, have the entrepreneurial spirit to combine love of country with love of spoiling our kids.

Next week: A New Year...a new block

Posted by davidrussellbc at 12:01 AM PST

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Last week began the journey of the creation of the hero of Deadly Lessons, Last Dance, and the in-progress W3.doc. As I talked about, Winston Patrick was originally conceived as a private detective named Mickey Jones.

The evolution of Winston from detective to teacher was in some part due to the nature of the story that had developed as I thought of Deadly Lessons' plot. One way or another, the story was set in a school and, working in a school at the time as a teacher, creating a character whose job I was pretty familiar with made a whole lot of practical sense.

But apart from Winston's apparent similarities to me, he owes a lot of his characteristics to my original conception for my private eye protagonist. Both Mickey and Winston have made significant career changes as the reader first encounters them, Mickey from accountant to private eye; Winston from lawyer to teacher. Originally, I fancied this newness to the profession aspect of the character because I enjoy the reluctant hero perspective it gave me to work with: if Winston is new at his job it's totally acceptable for him to make mistakes, even significant ones. Subconsciously, perhaps, I may have been giving myself permission as a first time novelist to make significant mistakes as well.

Dealing with change is thematically something I find fun to explore as well. In both characters' lives, the men were single; Winston was newly divorced, Mickey perennially single. I like the idea of my protagonist bumbling through changes in relationships as much as he is in his crime fighting.

I like to view both men as, essentially, highly moral characters as well. Though they may not have showed the most competence as they tried to solve crimes - and I like to think that was part of their charm - they had strong values to which they adhered. Winston Patrick is torn in Deadly Lessons by his obligation to his new friend, who is accused of having an affair with a student and his intense belief that an inappropriate teacher-student relationship is entirely reprehensible. He is also torn between his devotion to the law, which he views as a sacred trust between the citizenry and the government, and his belief in the value of education. Similarly, Mickey, as I conceived him, would have taken great pains to ensure that no matter how difficult it was, he would always conduct his investigations within the confines of the law and individual rights.

And, of course, they're both Presbyterian.

I'm not entirely sure why I put the protagonist who would eventually become Winston Patrick in church, just as I had Mickey Jones. Heck, I even planned for Mickey to spend Thursday nights in a men's choir practice. Considering I'm not a regular churchgoer myself, it might seem an unusual trait for a crime genre protagonist. But I wanted my crime buster to really be the antithesis of the tough guy that inhabits much of the genre. So we don't see Winston preaching in the streets, I think his membership in the neighbourhood church adds a layer to Winston that make him hopefully more interesting.

Plus, I think Presbyterian is kind of a funny word: just stuffy sounding enough without sounding like zealotry.

Of course, one of the most prominent characteristics of Winston Patrick is his dual roles as teacher and lawyer. Not only did this permit me to write about things I knew about - teaching - and loved - the law, it was also inspired by a number of teachers I encountered who had, in fact, come from the legal profession. Admittedly, I frequently had envisioned going to law school, even after I had begun my career as a teacher, but I found it surprising how many I found who had gone the other way. It made me wonder if there weren't underlying personality traits in common that lend themselves to both careers.

As W3.doc progresses, Winston is no longer a rookie teacher so he can't fall back on his newbie status for how well he is or isn't doing in the job. It was those feelings of doubt that initially pushed him out of the legal profession and into teaching. By W4.doc, Winston may well have to decide which of the two professions he was better suited for - or at least which one he is least unsuited for.

Posted by davidrussellbc at 12:01 AM PST

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In previous columns I provided not only the genesis of Deadly Lessons but also the roots of the character that would become the protagonist of the series: Winston Patrick.

As my publisher describes him: Winston Patrick, a successful lawyer but dissatisfied with his career defending the downtrodden of Vancouver's criminal world, trades in the courtroom for the high school classroom.

But he wasn’t always thus. A long time crime reader, my original plans for the genre had me creating a character that was a private detective. Certainly, my formative years in the genre had me deeply involved with the late Robert B. Parker’s Spenser. My introduction to the literary version, who I confess to occasionally having to ensure I am only paying homage to, not emulating, in my own writing, was originally sparked by my interest in the television series, Spenser for Hire, a show panned by most Spenser readers – and originally Parker himself. Of course, I was also a fan of Vega$ and S.W.A.T. so it’s entirely possible I was actually suffering the effects of a man-crush on Robert Urich. Creating a sleuth as my protagonist was pretty much a natural.

But I live in Canada. As much as nearly every seventh person in the state of California is a licensed private investigator, most of whom are licensed to carry a concealed weapon (of course, isn't everyone in California carrying a weapon?), I didn't know any in my circle of friends or acquaintances. Not even a distant cousin of the ex-girlfriend of a friend, kind of connection. And I had a hard time imagining what kind of private investigating they did: trying to scoop the starting line-ups of a client's opposing hockey team? What really is poutine and is it all a ploy by the cardio-thoracic industry to drive up national blood pressure rates?

Still, when I started looking for Spenser's north of the border equivalent, I found Howard Engel's Benny Cooperman series, set in fictional Grantham, Ontario, where Benny, essentially your divorce-photo snapping gumshoe found himself almost inadvertently solving more serious and deadly crimes that landed on his office doorstep, almost through no fault of his own. And in Benny, an inspiration for my west coast private eye was born: enter, Mickey Jones, Private Investigator.

Unlike so many of the hard boiled private detectives in the genre's literature in the U.S., I did not intend Mickey to be a former police officer, tired of the bureaucracy and politics of the institution, going out on his own. That would look like too much skill. In one of my earliest iterations of the character, Mickey was, in fact, an accountant who lost his licence after failing to properly account for money being laundered through a small company for whose books he was responsible. Recognizing that without accounting he had few skills on which to fall back, Mickey determines that he does have an inquisitive mind and the ability to solve puzzles - he was addicted to crosswords and could, given enough time on a Sunday afternoon, even complete the Sunday New York Times variant - key ingredients to being a successful private investigator. Plus there was the added bonus that the industry in British Columbia was entirely unregulated so his lack of any formal investigative training and expulsion from the only professional organization to which he had ever belonged, made it seem logical. That and the fact that when he looked in the Yellow Pages (that's how long ago I created the character) there was only one other in the city. It seemed the industry was ripe for the picking.

The challenge for me as a writer - and consequently for Mickey as a detective - was that I knew very little about detecting beyond what I'd read in the genre. This is what the idea of working with Mickey intriguing: I quite literally wanted him to solve mysteries more or less entirely by accident, that he would reach satisfactory conclusions despite himself. It meant that creating clue for Mickey to find to solve crime had to be the wrong clues that someone had him stumble onto the right ones.

Additionally, I didn't want Mickey to be tough. Even though many of my favourite detectives, both private and on the police pay roll, are unmistakably tough guys like the aforementioned Spenser, Elvis Cole, Hieronymus Bosch, I wanted Mickey to virtually never be able to rely on brawn to get him out of a scrape.

And of course, he was Presbyterian.

Next week: Enter Winston Patrick Part II - the evolution of Mickey to Winston

Posted by davidrussellbc at 12:01 AM PST

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I have previously talked about the questions I sometimes have about how much I ought to share of my protagonist's personal life.

It should come as no surprise that I am deeply invested in Winston Patrick. He is, of course, for the uninitiated, the protagonist in both Deadly Lessons, Last Dance and the soon to be completed W3.doc (see how confident I'm sounding? More about that later). And like I'm sure any writer feels, I want the reader to become more deeply invested in Winston Patrick as well.

I have discussed in a previous column the challenge of finding the right balance between deeping the readers' appreciation for and understanding of the character (hopefully) in addition to following the plot of the crime drama unfolding. Of course it is intended to develop interest in wishing to follow the protagonist on future exploits but also just because we want the reader to be as intrigued in our hero as we are. In theory, to carry this yen to his natural conclusion, we could publish a book just about the trials and tribulations of the character's life even without the crime plot.

Don't worry - I'm not going to do it.

In Deadly Lessons and Last Dance there were significant events going on in Winston's life that, while providing at least part of the foundation for the plot and certainly contributing to the story unfolding, were also about deepening our getting to know him and (again, hopefully) like him. Or at least not want him to die. Obviously, Deadly Lessons essentially served as the pilot for the series, so everything about the character is new and about getting to know him, give him layers and complexities and develop empathy for him. When we meet him he is undergoing a life change in that he is transitioning from the legal profession to the teaching, which puts him in the initial position to participate in the plot. But I also spend time getting to know his ex-wife, Sandi, how their relationship continues to transpire past their divorce and how she continues to complicate his life by, well, not leaving. Similarly in Last Dance some of the story focuses on continuing to develop our knowledge of Winston; his never-ceasing insomnia, for example, does little to specifically drive the plot, though in the first book, it sets up events that help to further the crime saga.

In W3.doc, as I've mentioned, I have set up a significant life event for Winston (no ladies, don't worry: he's not getting married) that, so far at least, has little to no bearing on the crime drama that is the central tenet of the plot, though I suppose that may change as I continue. I believe it deepens him somewhat, providing some substance and history that may be surprising or may make the reader question their initial understanding or impressions of him. It's not that readers won't like him, more that they may have more nuanced opinion of him at the end of this book than with the others.

I'm finding adding the personal storylines is doubly challenging in W3.doc: while I'm enjoying the added dimensions it's adding to the character, I have, as I've mentioned, experienced with this book more doubt about the story. I need to make sure that I don't overdo my 'B' story, so to speak, in order to compensate for any crisis of confidence in the 'A' story.

On the plus side, I've been sticking to my writing resolution: 20 minutes per day without fail - with the exception of Tuesday, the 14th - and you really don't want to know why that exception occurred.

And as I've continued to push the writing, the story continues to develop in my mind. Indeed, it has become increasingly, well, complicated.

Next week: In the beginning…Winston Patrick

Posted by davidrussellbc at 12:01 AM PST

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On a few occasions, I have met one of Canada's leading crime writing authors, William Deverell, an author whom I first noticed when I was drawn in by the title of one his novels, Kill All the Lawyers. It seemed a bit harsh but having worked with a few of them I could certainly appreciate the sentiment. To be sure, the title was a borrowed line from Shakespeare's Henry VI but my likelihood of meeting the more contemporary William seemed greater, at least in the short term.

At the Crime Writers of Canada sort of annual Bloody Words conference held in Victoria in 2011, I cornered Deverell and asked him a burning question that a seasoned, successful writer would likely have useful insight into: have you ever written a significant portion of a book, only to determine the story turns out not be any good and abandoned the whole thing?

Bill's answer: No. He undertakes so much prepatory work, research, detailed outlining and scene building before he starts the actual writing that he would have identified those issues long in advance of having written anything of significant length. By the time all of that early work is done, he's well prepared to craft the actual writing of the novel.

Damn it. Trust a lawyer to be prepared to do all that careful work in advance. I was starting to relate to the title of his book.

It probably comes as no surprise that the reason I was asking the question is I was in the middle of serious nagging doubts about the story on which I was currently working. That story: W3.doc. Here we are, two and a half years later and those doubts have re-surfaced. There's probably a way to determine at what point in the story I was when I asked Bill the question. But honestly it's probably not all that long ago, story wise. The story that would write itself has been a long time in the making.

You may recall that when I returned from Europe in the summer I had experienced a bit of a story re-birth, taking to crafting the story by pen on forty or so handwritten pages while we traveled in the Mediterranean. That burst of productivity, coupled with resurgence in my understanding of where the story was taking me, ground to a halt almost as quickly as the vacation did. While I continued my weekly musings here, the level of productivity at W3.doc dwindled to a few sentences here and there.

And Doubt came back.

As I've continued to plod ever so slowly at the manuscript, I have experienced conflicting inner arguments: am I stubbornly sticking to a flawed story because I'm more than thirty thousand words into it and abandoning ship now would seem a waste of these years I've invested all this thought, if not as much as effort as I could have? Or is the story fine but my…ahem…literary laziness preventing me from the elements of discovery that the writing process itself often provides?

I admit there have been times I've been ready to toss the beast and move on to the next story that is just itching to be written - in fact two of them that are percolating in my head right now. On the other hand, starting from scratch now makes the potential gap between W3.doc and Last Dance all that much greater - and the possibility of not getting the next book published seems to increase.

Unless W3.doc is an unworkable piece of trash.

You see the fights I have with myself? Inside my head can be an unpleasant arena in which to be a spectator.

Fortunately, I've had another epiphany of sorts. I know I've had quite a few of those lately but I'm really trying not to make them a weekly event. Part of my struggle with the underlying premise of W3.doc is that the nature of the crime writing is a marked departure from Deadly Lessons and Last Dance in that it really isn't a 'Who dunnit.' In fact, so far, it's really clear 'Who dunnit'; what's not clear is what was done. And that's kind of a different sub-genre, really. And I think I'm finally starting to embrace it.

Thus, W3.doc will soldier on (remember that - when you read the book you'll laugh).

Next week: embracing the personal life of the protagonist

Sidebar: last week I talked about New Year's resolution: 20 minutes a day. So far, my OCD tendencies are satisfied with all the 'X's' on my calendar. And I've been averaging around 600 words each day. That means I've written more of W3.doc in the first eight days of 2014 than I have since school started in September. Soldier on!

Posted by davidrussellbc at 12:01 AM PST

Updated: Wednesday, 8 January 2014 10:19 PM PST

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Last week I began the process of putting some writing resolutions to paper, so to speak. The fact that it's a two-week process is probably some kind of indication about my level of commitment phobia. But holding out much longer than this week's column makes the idea of writing about resolutions seem redundant. It would also require me to write something else.

See last week's column about how much work I've been willing to do these past couple of weeks.

So what kind of resolutions should a writer be making, especially one who has written so frequently in the past year about writer's block?

For starters, I've had an epiphany of sorts (I know I've had previous epiphanies but this one seems kind of big): writing is work.

This fact should seem self-evident but it's an element of which I seem to have lost track over the past couple of years. I have previously described W3.doc as the book that was more or less supposed to write itself, so sure was I in the story as it came to me. And, of course, it hasn't happened. There is probably some sort of inversely proportional cosmic relationship between my original confidence in the story and the difficulty I'm having bringing it to fruition. It has had the perverse effect of having me doubt the story itself (that's a post unto itself - stay tuned).

But the simple fact (apparently epiphanies can be simple) is that no, stories don't write themselves, and it seems I've been sitting waiting for the words to be so pressured up at the top of the bottle they're simply waiting for me to pop the cork so they can come spilling out. Intellectually, I know this: while I look back at Deadly Lessons with rose-coloured glasses, as though it more or less spilled out of me into the word processor, I'm sure that there were more moments of frustration in that writing than I can recall. Certainly I know that Last Dance went weeks and occasionally months during which I never went near it and was ready to abandon it on numerous occasions.

A key part of the frustration for me surely stems from how anxious I was to write this book, even when I was in the middle of Last Dance, it's disappointing that I'm now experiencing as much difficulty in the middle portion as I am. I can at least take comfort in the fact that for all the mental anguish Last Dance caused me, according to nearly all the reviews it came out all right - in fact some claim to like it better than Deadly Lessons, the book that in my memory came as close to effortless writing. I'm trying to take solace in the idea that maybe anguish pays off in the end product.

So what do I resolve?

Since most resolutions fail due to their unrealistic nature, I need to keep my expectations manageable but not miniscule. My friend and colleague posted a link to these resolutions for writers article, which seems a good place to start. To some, certainly to me it probably ought, it seems a bit back-to-basics: setting aside twenty minutes per day for writing. Twenty minutes. That should be easily achievable for a writer who has already written and published two books, right?

But the reality is I haven't been. Maybe a back to basics regime could prove beneficial in the short term to get the juices flowing (as a borderline OCD sufferer, that's a metaphor I find disturbing so I'll keep its image fresh in mind). I have my 2014 Telus calendar at the ready to put big colourful X's through each day I meet the modest goal.

More boldly, if somewhat less concretely, I also have the following plans:

a) I will complete the draft of W3.doc during this calendar year. I know, I know, that's still pretty vague, especially considering my initial submission was planned to be December 31....2012. My ideal goal would be to have the draft complete prior to going to Costa Rica in March so I can be reading it over as opposed to writing on it while enjoying our temporary beach paradise home. But if I don't make it (sigh - day job and SFU at night, after all) I will not beat myself up (or at least not too much).

I am counting on you, dear readers, to help hold me to account. Please (please!) feel free to nag, cajole and demand progress reports.

b) I will venture again into some of the business opportunities attached to having a series of books. I've written before about my pursuit of filmed versions but really, using the word 'pursuit' is hardly appropriate to what feeble efforts I've made. Like the writing, finding interest in the books won't happen on its own. I need to dip more than just my toes into the show biz water: I commit to at least going in up to my waist.

Whew. Bring it on 2014. Let's hope this is the year these writing resolutions stick.

Next week: Story Doubts Re-dux

Posted by davidrussellbc at 12:01 AM PST

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One of my least favourite forms of writing at this time of the year is the obligatory publishing of lists: top stories of the year, best movies, worst songs, and, if you're inclined to watch television news in the Vancouver market, no doubt the biggest weather stories of the year. Oh, how we love a good weather story on our local news channel, as I've alluded to in the recent past. Never mind that the most severe of our local weather phenomena generally involves nothing more than extreme windiness or, if the assignment editor is really fortuitous, any amount of snowfall (pictures of cars in ditches and spinning, worn-out all-season tires always lead that newscast).

It's also the time of year for predictions: when a federal or provincial election will be called, who's likely to run/get eliminated by scandal/win one (municipal are pre-scheduled but 2014 is one of those years so lists will contain 'guess the mayor' as well); which celebrities will marry/divorce/violate a federal statute; interest rates will go up/down/stay the same/wait - I didn't need that last slash - there's pretty much no other option.

And of course, there's the endless resolutions stories. Sometimes we want to know what famous or powerful are planning to do to improve themselves (gotta think for Justin Bieber it's pretty much everything). Then there's the ultimate lazy journalism story: ask people on the street what their resolutions are.

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.

I promise, at least, that my list of resolutions - short though it may be - will be focused on those related to writing.

Given that the stated intent of this weekly column is to keep me generating written output - even if it's not always directly related to W3.doc, it seems natural that after a year of uninterrupted, weekly production I pause to take stock of what's happened so far and what hopefully lies ahead.

And given the time of year, no writer likes to work too hard, which is why these types of columns are often broken into two parts.

Thus - the resolutions themselves, I reserve for next week.

Happy Boxing Day

Next week: an epiphany of sorts driving the resolutions.

Posted by davidrussellbc at 9:24 AM PST

Updated: Thursday, 26 December 2013 9:33 AM PST

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“Tis the season of wish lists (resolutions to follow in a couple of weeks, I suppose). Near the top of my Christmas wish list, just beneath the requisite ‘peace on earth’, end to hunger, health to all my loved ones, etc., is what could be described perhaps more of a literary aspiration than an actual wish.

I want to write a Christmas movie.

Let me backtrack. In previous posts I’ve talked about the muse: what inspires me to write and from where do stories generate? I detailed over several columns the Deadly Lessons origin – and have threatened on numerous occasions to account for the origins of Last Dance as well. But among the many sources of inspiration and story origin for me is music.

It’s possible that I’m synesthetic. For the uninitiated, synesthetes have a neurological condition in which a sensory stimulation of one sense involuntarily stimulates the pathway to another. Thus, a synesthete may automatically associate numbers with colours or some spatial interpretation. In my brain– a dangerous place to be, no doubt -, for example, I see numbers in three-dimensional form: the numbers one through ten go in a line straight up and down; eleven through twenty veer to the right at about a forty-five degree angle; then there’s a sharp left at twenty as the numbers travel off towards triple digit territory, a few minor turns along the way. At one hundred there’s a sharp right and we carry on in similar patterns.

Similarly, when I hear music – most music – it comes to me in pretty strong visuals. Now musicians would say that music does tell a story, whether through its lyrics or through dramatic lifts and portions of musical lines that invoke emotion. It’s why, I suppose, the creation of music videos made perfect sense. For me, music sometimes invokes very powerful images and I’m practically playing the correct music video in my head, which is why I never really enjoyed the music video genre as I found it difficult to believe how visually wrong the filmmakers often were. When I finally saw the actual video of The Dream Academy’s Life in a Northen Town I was so astounded at how profoundly wrong they got it I essentially gave up on music videos from that point forward.

So it’s possible I suffer (suffer?) from synesthesia. On the other hand, I’ve never heard of the term prior to the book I’m currently reading aloud with my daughter,The Name of this Book is Secret, by Pseudonymous Bosch, where the condition figures prominently to the plot and as a bonus, has driven my daughter to the Google School of Medicine to learn more. I may just have powerful visual responses or interpretations to certain music.

My Christmas movie is one of those interpretations.

What I find intriguing, not only about the story that has developed over the past few Christmases but also about the process itself, is that the music has provoked not just an image but a storyline, the genesis of a plot for a Christmas movie that each year has grown a little with the replaying of the two or three songs that seem to drive it.

Now I know, I know: Christmas movies are often hokey and saccharine and lack the edge of today’s modern cinema. But I also think: so what? I appreciate some of the darker themes of humanity explored by some of today’s cutting edge filmmakers. But does that mean that films can’t be nice anymore? Yes, I fancy myself on a mission to civilize but I don’t think that’s entirely clouding my storytelling judgement. I honestly believe there is a market for – and a desire for – movies that just tell a nice story, where we feel pretty good at the end and maybe walk out of the theatre with a smile on our faces and maybe just a bit of a warm glow in our chests. And that’s the movie, beginning and climax already written, complete with Christmas bagpipes  (thanks for that, Amy Grant) that I want to write.

Of course, like leftover turkey and discarded wrapping paper, as soon as I stop listening to the music I move on to other things. By March who wants to write a Christmas movie? But each year, as I pull out the Christmas CD’s and I hear that one piece of music, it all comes flooding back, as though begging to be written. What I really need is to have enough of the literary deck cleared that I can spend November and December one year focused on writing the Christmas movie while the spirit is with me, so to speak. So on a practical level, may Santa help me get W3.doc done early in the New Year so I can afford to take a departure from the next book come this time next year.

That’s not so much to ask.

Next week: New Year’s Resolutions. Why not?

Posted by davidrussellbc at 1:23 PM PST

Updated: Friday, 20 December 2013 9:22 AM PST

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