Write, Wrote, Written


Rock Climbing
October 28, 2007, 9:50 pm
Filed under: Writing | Tags: , , , , ,

Sunday Scribblings # 82

Must be the full moon.  It always brings out the crazies.  The E.R. was packed, and Andie was entering the twenty-third hour of her twenty-four hour shift.  She took a clipboard from the triage nurse and glanced it over as she dodged doctors, nurses, and other patients on her way to examining station number four.  White male.  Twenty-nine.  Good physical condition.  Probable sports injury.  She was thankful for that.  He would be easy.  But she stopped when she saw the name of the patient.  Stephen Cahill.  He was becoming a regular.

“So, Mr. Cahill,” she said as she pushed the curtain aside, “What was it this time, rock climbing again?”

He grinned, and with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he asked, “Would you believe BASE jumping?”

“BASE jumping?”

“Yeah, you know, jumping off of high structures with a parachute.  I misjudged how slippery the top of the Washington Monument is.”

“No, I wouldn’t believe that.”

“Okay, then I was rock climbing.  I lost my footing and the harness caught me funny.  My left side hurts.”

“Well, then lift up your shirt and let me take a look.”

She stopped believing his excuses the fourth time she treated him in the E.R., but they still played this game.   She could have pushed harder for a reason, but something in the way he looked at her stopped her.  For all the playfulness she saw in his eyes, there was something else there, too.  He was pleading with her not to ask about the real reason he was there.  At least it didn’t seem so serious this time.  The last time, two friends had brought him in with a broken arm, a broken nose, and a dislocated shoulder.  That had happened rock climbing as well.

“You’re lucky this time, Mr. Cahill,” she said after she had examined his side, “I think it’s just bruised.  I’ll give you something for the pain, and you try to take it easy for a few days, but I don’t have to tell you all that.  You know the drill.”

Thankfully, he was her last patient.   Twenty-four hours and thirty-three minutes after she clocked in, she clocked out, and stepped out into the fresh air for the first time since the start of her shift.  It was dark, of course, just like when she had arrived.  Before she started her residency, her father worried about her being in the big city by herself, but she assured him that the metro station was only a short walk from the hospital and that if anyone tried to do anything to her, she could put her brown belt in Tae Kwon Do to use.

She never had a chance, though.  She didn’t even hear the man come up behind her.   Before she realized what was happening, he had her pinned against the wall of the building.  He was incredibly strong.  She couldn’t move at all.

“Look,” she said, “I don’t have much money, but you can just take my purse.  I promise I won’t go to the police.”

The man just laughed.  “The police can’t do anything to me,” he said, “and I don’t want your money.”

He turned her around so that she faced him.  At first, she couldn’t even make sense of what she was seeing.  The man’s twisted smile revealed exaggerated canines and his eyes glowed red.

“Don’t look into his eyes!” someone yelled.

The man and Andie both turned their heads in the direction of the voice.  It was Stephen, who launched his entire body at the man, or whatever it was.  When he impacted, the thing’s hold on her immediately ceased.  She fell to the ground, and when she looked up, she saw that Stephen had it pinned to the wall of the building.  It writhed in pain, but as far as she could tell, all Stephen was doing was holding a cross against its chest.

That changed, though.  In his other hand, he had a wooden stake.  In one quick underhanded motion, and with a surprising amount of skill, he jammed the stake into the left side of the creature’s chest, between the ribs.  It jerked once and then stopped moving.  Stephen stepped back and let it slide down the wall.  When it burst into flames seconds later, Andie screamed, but in just moments, all that was left was ash.

Stephen winced and clutched at his side.  Then he looked at her and grinned.  Just briefly, she saw something different in his eyes, this time–sadness, but the mischievousness quickly returned and banished it.

“Guess I just can’t stay away from the rock climbing,” he said.



Read with Abandon?
October 25, 2007, 9:26 am
Filed under: Life, Reading | Tags: , , ,

Booking Through Thursday

I would enjoy reading a meme about people’s abandoned books. The books that you start but don’t finish say as much about you as the ones you actually read, sometimes because of the books themselves or because of the circumstances that prevent you from finishing. So…what books have you abandoned and why?

I don’t like to abandon books once I’ve started.  It seems like giving up and letting the book defeat me, but I have a few times.  Once was in college.  I was taking a class, and we were assigned Arrowsmith by Sinclair Lewis to read.  I couldn’t do it.  About halfway through, I started to go cross-eyed every time I picked up the book and started reading.  It’s probably the driest fiction I’ve ever read.  And for me to say it was dry means something.  I suppose that’s the danger of having an emotionally detached doctor as a protagonist.  Fortunately, we weren’t being tested on the book.  It was just for a discussion, and I bluffed my way through.

Another was Foucault’s Pendulum by Umberto Eco.  The prose was just too dense.  The book had been called the “thinking person’s Da Vinci Code“  Well, the characters think, and think, and think some more, and then get drunk and talk about what they’ve been thinking, and then they think about what they said.  So in that sense, yes.  Somewhere, there’s a happy medium between those two books.

My wife wins the prize though.  She stopped reading The Da Vinci Code with thirty pages left until the end.  Granted, we were both in law school, and the school year started and working full-time and going to school at night doesn’t leave much time for leisure activities, but still….



Typography
October 18, 2007, 8:35 am
Filed under: Reading | Tags: , ,

Booking Through Thursday

What’s the worst typographical error you’ve ever found in (or on) a book?

My copy of Tess of the d’Urbervilles has a typo on the cover.  It says d’Ubervilles (leaving out the first r).  It’s almost an excusable mistake.  I didn’t notice it until I had finished the book, but it’s still embarassing given that it was an edition published by Penguin Classic.



The Problem with the Short Story
October 5, 2007, 10:41 am
Filed under: Writing | Tags: , ,

I figured I’d put in my two cents about an article Stephen King wrote for the New York Times entitled “What Ails the Short Story.”  He stated that part of the problem is the market for short fiction is drying up–short story magazines usually relegated to the bottom shelf of the magazine rack and all.  

I agree because it’s something I’ve seen personally.  I’ve always wanted to write novels, but for a while I followed some (now I believe bad) advice to write short stories first and get them published.  When I went to law school, I had to put the writing on ice for a while.  After I graduated, one of the first things I did was update my magazine submission database.  All but five of the magazines were defunct, and there were no new magazines that I could find.

That would be discouraging if I hadn’t come upon some good writing advice, courtesy of Holly Lisle, Miss Snark, and others that if I wanted to write novels, I should write novels.  I never felt comfortable writing short stories.  It would take me months to write one, and it would be agonizing.  Even when one was revised and critiqued and “finished” it still never felt right, and sure enough, whenever I sent one out into the world, it always came back rejected.  I got encouraging letters from editors.  They liked my writing, just not the story.

I’m now 70,000 words into the first draft of my novel, and the experience is completely different.  I enjoy the luxury of being able to tell a story from multiple points of view and having the room to do it.   I enjoy the flexibilty in structure the length of a novel allows.  It’s also a lot easier for me to follow the “show, don’t tell” rule, because I know that I can spend 4,000 words showing istead of only having 400 to spare. 

Imagine my surprise when I started up this blog and I discovered that I’m also pretty good at writing short-short stories–1,500 words max.  Ironically, for me the short-short format is less restraining than the traditional short story.  When I was writing traditional short stories, I felt like I had to explain everything.  In a short-short, there’s just not room, so I don’t even try.  Again, I guess it’s just makes it easier for me to show rather than tell.

But that gets us back to the market problem.  There is no market for short-shorts.  Magazines don’t publish them (unless you’re Stephen King), and even if they did, at an average pay rate of $0.05 per word, that’s a whopping $50 for a 1,000 word story.  So I just put them on my blog and continue to slog through my novel.  Next time I’m in a bookstore, though, I’ll look for the fiction magazines, even if it means crawling on the floor.



Decorum
October 4, 2007, 10:36 am
Filed under: Reading | Tags: , , ,

Booking Through Thursday

Do you have “issues” with too much profanity or overly explicit (ahem) “romantic” scenes in books? Or do you take them in stride? Have issues like these ever caused you to close a book? Or do you go looking for more exactly like them? (grin)

I approach this issue in books the way I approach it in movies.  If it’s appropriate for the story and the characters and not gratuitous, then it’s okay.  After all, you can’t have a dirty New York City cop saying, “darn it all to heck,” and expect people to take the character seriously.  And there are certain situations where that one word is the only one which can adequately convey the feelings of a character.

On the other hand, I think in most situations less is more.  A recent series of Batman comics, designed to be a “grittier” reimagining of Batman has him saying at one point, “I’m the [expletive] Batman.”  (You can read about it here.)  People read it and laughed.  They weren’t supposed to.  I’ve also been turned off to a book by an “overdescribed” love scene, even if the scene itself was appropriate to the characters and the situation.  Adding in every detail just makes the writing awkward, which is pretty much the opposite of the effect you want.  (By contrast, read Madame Bovary.)