Master Advice

Cranking out a rewrite on a story I wrote five years ago. Close-but-no-prize on getting it published, but I'd send it out, wait, get a rejection, forget about it, send it out again, get another rejection then start on another story and abandon all efforts in favor of the new shiny thing. Now I'm committed to selling this sucker. (Or getting it published for free - number two on my list but it opens so many more markets.)

Actually, I'm not rewriting so much as laying in elements to add tension and underscore the theme of destructive self-absortion - something that has gotten me everything I lack today. Not bad as writing goes, but tricky since I don't want to scuttle the old stuff that still works.

From a neat 5k, I suspect the new version will top out in the novelette range of 7500 words. This reduces my shot at free, online placements, but does leave me well-situated for the prestigious, ill-paying, anthology route.

Every story needs so much space to be told. I've got four sub-3k pieces that should place easier than a mini-whale like my current assignment. But I like this mini-whale. I think all it lacked before was a theme, change in perspective, and a higher body count. I believe it was Dickens who once said, "Good Heavens, if a story doesn't sell kill a character with a wasting disease. Kill several and make them good ones. Then beat a begger with a cane. But not in print. Do it for real and your problems will evaporate while his will increase exponentially."

I may not do all of that, but its good to know what the masters thought.

For Paul Rugg

Though this guy never does "serious Jerry."

h/t: WGN

Occupational Hazard

Re-writes all day on a short-story, cutting out much, putting in more, and ending up with about the same word count. Sent out one story yesterday and the same story today to a different market.

But what is my job when compared to this:

Sunsets, Stories, and Randy Beaman's Pal at War

Smoke turned sunset into a fiery red ball, peeking out from behind a grayish wall of cloud/smoke. I was in Saigon a few years back, one of the pollution capitals of Asia. Sunset was similar - a huge ball of red, like an immense corporate logo, filling the sky. It seemed to take forever to set. Nothing like particulate matter to give the sky a little variety.

I remember setting some writing goals a few weeks back, but missed them all. Instead, I've opted for Ten-in-Six. I dug out ten short stories and have given myself six months to publish all. That includes rewriting, having them read, polish, lining up at least three markets to start, and firing them off. I wrote out a plan and it's really kept me jumping the last few days - which is what I need instead of focusing on the lousy fire. (Which will be with us at least two more weeks.)

Talked with Deanna Oliver on Sunday. Son Colin is now on patrol in Afghanistan in one-hundred and thirty degree heat. His unit works with the Afghan Army, who are particularly keen at spotting IED (improvised explosive device) booby traps. Thick dust is a problem for men and weapons, along with staying hydrated. Colin made sure to call his mom and say: "Don't believe anything you hear on the media." In general, a good idea. All the best to Colin and his pals and may they return home safe.

Third World Auto Club Video

Don't leave the first world without them.


h/t: Friend Ken

Fire Photos

My friend Julie up in La Canada snapped these over the last few days. Her home is intact, but the neighborhood is now under mandatory evacuation. Julie and her family are safe.

The fire has quadrupled, feeding on 50 years of brush. Cell phone and media towers atop Mt. Wilson will probably be lost, affecting area communications. (Apparantly police and fire comm towers are elsewhere.) Two firemen have died. The smoke this morning was fog-like. More as matters unfold.

Smoke plus Animalia Emmy

Whitish smokey haze everywhere as the wind shifts, pushing the fire down toward the foothill communities. Mt. Wilson and its many communication towers are threatened as the fire widens to the east and west. I heard from my former TNT coach who just moved out of town before the fire hit. Her old home is fine, but threatened as the flames are a half-mile away.

Local news here.

On a less combustible note, Animalia was a CGI show I worked on in 2006 - 07 with Tom Ruegger, Sherri Stoner, and Deanna Oliver. Now airing on PBS, the show's composer Chris Elves won an Emmy last night. Congratulations to Chris and his designated driver, who are probably just getting home now.

Fire Forces Home Evacuations

No word on my friend, but as of 7:00 PM Pacific, no homes had been lost yet in La Canada. Seven-hundred and fifty houses have been evacuated and shelters established at most of the surrounding area high schools. The fire is only 5% contained and spreading as reported here.

Fire Update

Checked on another La Canada friend. They have fire two doors down from their home. Luckily, a fire truck just arrived. Meanwhile, they're hosing down the roof and helping the neighbors do the same. Keep 'em in your prayers.

August Fire Photo

Had breakfast with my friend Ernesto at a coffee shop affording a good view of the mountains. Fire flared and helicopters stuttered back and forth, water dropping the blazing brush. Within sight of towering smoke clouds, life went on pretty much as usual while fire engines zoomed past, sirens wailing, heading off to work.

Evacuations have taken place in some neighborhoods. One of my old TNT coaches, Katie, lives up closer to the advancing fire. Hopefully, she and her family are doing Okay as temperatures locally remain in triple digits. (Photo shows fires burning above the Jet Propulsion Laboratories. Possibly they can computer model the heat before running.)

Meanwhile, I'm burning up the calculator, adding up a dozen years worth of home repairs to avoid capital gains tax. I'm glad we sold when we did.

Hot and Smokey

This refers to the air and not lunch, as I had a Chinese chicken salad with Troy over in Burbank. We discussed graphic novels, the state of TV animation - lousy - and the old National Lampoon, respository of some of the sharpest satire around (Onion notwithstanding). Then it was back out into the 100 degree, ash-filed air for some after-lunch coughing.