The time has come to work on the second draft for the editor, taking into account all of the suggested changes, and there are quite a few. So much for thinking I could put in an almost flawless manuscript.
…
We’re near the end, and I have to say, it has been hard work.
Today I’ve been writing, revising and reading. There are aspects to the flow that are bothering me, and I know I’m supposed to let it mull for a while before I start editing, but I’m like that, I have to do something about it now, not later.
While I’m doing that, I’ve been working on a musical theme for the writing and hit upon the big band sounds of the 1940s and ’50s.
I have always been fascinated by that era of music, particularly Benny Goodman, but not so much the Dorsey brothers.
It then led to the final chapter, as I was playing Sing, Sing, Sing, I had the vision, in the ballroom, just our main character, and Teresa, with a few selected guests.
I’m also one of those people who like happy endings to the stories, or at least until the next book in the series starts.
The time has come to work on the second draft for the editor, taking into account all of the suggested changes, and there are quite a few. So much for thinking I could put in an almost flawless manuscript.
…
There is a history of strong female characters. They don’t have to be the lead character in order to become a focal point in the story.
I’m reminded of the CIA agent in Cuba in the latest James Bond Film, No Time To Die, where she literally kicks ass. To my mind, that is a girl to be reckoned with, and no, I would not want to meet her in a dark alley or be her enemy.
I wanted one, and put her in the Zoe series, an assassin without a conscience, but has one of those life-defining moments that doesn’t take away anything from her character, just adds another dimension.
This story is going to have one too, Teresa, only she is a different kettle of fish, to quote an analogy.
She is just the sort of person our main character’s handler recruits in a heartbeat. The fact she is in jail when we first meet her just adds to the mystique.
And when the main character and her meet, it’s like water and oil. She had a role to play, even if it’s not the one our main character is led to believe is.
The trouble is, I’m having too much fun playing to the two off against each other, so much so, I’m beginning to like her, as much as I would, in real life (if such a person existed) fear her.
Interesting question: how would I react if my imaginary world suddenly became all too real?
The time has come to work on the second draft for the editor, taking into account all of the suggested changes, and there are quite a few. So much for thinking I could put in an almost flawless manuscript.
…
Sometimes it takes a failure to make a success.
Well, that’s the theme I’m running with.
Of course, the leaders of the revolution take that failed attempt as a bad sign, but a severe setback sometimes causes that sort of introspection.
And the revolutionaries never quite know who’s on their side and who isn’t.
And there are those who are trying to keep out of harm’s way, do their job, and still get caught up in the middle of a war.
Revolutions are more than just the capture of radio stations, army barracks, and the airport. It’s always a good thing when a country doesn’t have too many airports or army bases. It also helps that the country is small and manageable and that its current leaders are corrupt and self-serving, and some very dangerous.
They are also helped by having the heart and soul of the citizens, not so much that they would take up arms and fight, rather, do nothing and get in the way. That in itself could be dangerous, but sometimes people act without thinking of the consequences.
Those you would least expect to step up and be counted.
It’s going to take more words than I have before it is supposed to be written by the end of the month, so this story is going to run into overtime.
So, stay tuned, for daily reports on how the revolution is progressing.
Sydney to Beijing – Qantas A330-200 Boarding 11:45, everyone on board by 12:02, for a 12:10 departure. Pushing back 12:12 Take off 12:27
Lunch Airline food is getting better but the fact they serve it up to you in a metal tray with a thick aluminum lid does nothing for the quality of the food inside. I get what the chef is trying to do but often there is too little of one thing and too much of another and what you finish up with is slop in a tray. Sometimes it’s edible sometimes it’s not. Sometimes the meat is tender and other times it’s like boot leather. As it is today. I think it’s pork, I should have had the chicken. Or perhaps it was chicken. I hate it when you can’t tell what it is that you’re eating. But, the drinks were good.
Rest or Sleep, maybe It’s going to take 11 hours and 20 minutes from Sydney to Beijing, a long time to sit in a plane with nothing much to do other than crosswords, read a book or newspaper or magazine, listen to music on your own device, or the in-flight entertainment, watch a movie again by the in-flight entertainment – if it works – or try to get some sleep. I started with the crosswords but got bored quickly. I fiddled with the in-flight entertainment, looked at the movies and tv shows but none really interested me, not then at least, so I set it to the flight path. Not exactly stellar entertainment, but it’s always interesting to know where the plane is. Or is it? If we crash, what good would it do me to know it’s somewhere over the ocean, not far from Manila, or somewhere else. It’s not as if I could phone someone up, on the way down, to let them know where we are. But, just after dinner, we still haven’t left Australia
However, by the time I’ve finished fiddling with and dismissing all of the entertainment alternatives, it’s back to the flight path and now we are…
Somewhere approaching the Sulu Sea, which I’ve never heard of before, so it looks like I’ll have to study up on my geography when I get home.
OK, Manila looks like somewhere I’ve heard of, so we have to be flying over the Philippines. Not far left of that is Vietnam. Neither of those places is on my travel bucket list, so I’ll just look from up here and be satisfied with that.
Working, or not Chronic boredom is setting in by the time we are just past halfway to our destination. We are over 6 hours into the flight and there no possible way I’m going to get any sleep. I brought my Galaxy Tab loaded with a few of my novel outlines, and planning for missing chapters, thinking I might get a little thinking time in. Plane rides, I find, are excellent for getting an opportunity to write virtually unhindered by outside interruptions, if, of course, you discount the number of times people brush past, knocking your seat, the person in front lowering the seat into your face, or people around you continually asking you to turn off your light because they’re trying to sleep. Sorry, I say, but you can suffer my pain with me. It’s one of the joys of flying with over two hundred others in a claustrophobic environment. Besides, aren’t the lights supposed to be slanted so only I get the rays of light? Except, I guess when the fixed light doesn’t line up with where the airline has fixed the seat (usually so they can squash more people in). So, sorry, not sorry, take it up with the airline.
Back to work, and I put in some quality time on a part of the story that had been eluding me for a while. I knew what I wanted to write, but not how I was going to approach it, so that blissfully quiet and intense time worked in my favour, something that would not have happened back home. I won’t bore you with the synopsis, just suffice to say it’s finally down on paper, digitally that is, and it’s a huge step forward towards finishing it. There is, of course, the end play, the reading of the will but not before there are a few thrusts and parry’s by some of the players, but all in all the objective was to showcase a group of people with their strengths and weaknesses pushing their characters in various directions, some at odds with what is expected of them. But enough of that. A quick check of our position shows we’re still over water but closer to our destination, so much so, we might start the pre-landing rituals, starting with food.
Dinner 7:00 – Dinner is served, well, the lights go on and a lot of tired people try to shake the sleep, and sleeplessness, out of their systems. Then flight attendants that are far too cheerful, and must have beamed in from somewhere else, serve another interesting concoction that says what’s in it but you can’t really be sure of the ingredients. It comes and it goes.
9:10 – We begin our descent into Beijing, you know, that moment when the engines almost stop and there’s a sickening lurch and the plane heads downward. 9:56 – We touch down on the runway, in the dark and apparently it has been raining though from inside the plane you’d never know. 10:10 – the plane arrives at the gate, the usual few minutes to open the door, and, being closer to the front of the plane this time, it doesn’t take that long before the queue is moving.
Early or late, it doesn’t matter. After clearing customs and immigration, we have to go in search of our tour guide, waiting for us somewhere outside the arrivals terminal.
When we first planned to stay in Tuscany for a few days, we wanted to be in a central area. We had thought of staying in Florence and making daily treks, but the tour operator we selected told us it would be better if we stayed closer to Arezzo.
We picked Greve in Chianti, and a place called Antico Pastificio, we booked a standard apartment with two bedrooms, and it was about as authentic Italian you could get. The building we stayed in was the yellow pasta factory, and the apartment named ‘Iris’.
It was only steps away from the main square, shops, restaurants, and at the opposite end, the quaint ringing of church bells at various times during the day.
Gaining access was through a very narrow arch which required some deft driving and then up the road. There were villas and two large apartment blocks.
You can just see the archway at the end of the road. This was the entrance to our room,
along a passage and up the stairs, turning left at the top.
Going straight ahead through the gate to the car park,
and access to the grounds behind the buildings.
This was the view from the lounge/living room. The days were hot, and on several evenings it rained, breaking the heat and making the evenings sitting by the window cool and refreshing.
And the last view is looking towards the town piazza and the church
The time has come to work on the second draft for the editor, taking into account all of the suggested changes, and there are quite a few. So much for thinking I could put in an almost flawless manuscript.
…
Sometimes it takes a failure to make a success.
Well, that’s the theme I’m running with.
Of course, the leaders of the revolution take that failed attempt as a bad sign, but a severe setback sometimes causes that sort of introspection.
And the revolutionaries never quite know who’s on their side and who isn’t.
And there are those who are trying to keep out of harm’s way, do their job, and still get caught up in the middle of a war.
Revolutions are more than just the capture of radio stations, army barracks, and the airport. It’s always a good thing when a country doesn’t have too many airports or army bases. It also helps that the country is small and manageable and that its current leaders are corrupt and self-serving, and some very dangerous.
They are also helped by having the heart and soul of the citizens, not so much that they would take up arms and fight, rather, do nothing and get in the way. That in itself could be dangerous, but sometimes people act without thinking of the consequences.
Those you would least expect to step up and be counted.
It’s going to take more words than I have before it is supposed to be written by the end of the month, so this story is going to run into overtime.
So, stay tuned, for daily reports on how the revolution is progressing.
The time has come to work on the second draft for the editor, taking into account all of the suggested changes, and there are quite a few. So much for thinking I could put in an almost flawless manuscript.
…
There is a history of strong female characters. They don’t have to be the lead character in order to become a focal point in the story.
I’m reminded of the CIA agent in Cuba in the latest James Bond Film, No Time To Die, where she literally kicks ass. To my mind, that is a girl to be reckoned with, and no, I would not want to meet her in a dark alley or be her enemy.
I wanted one, and put her in the Zoe series, an assassin without a conscience, but has one of those life-defining moments that doesn’t take away anything from her character, just adds another dimension.
This story is going to have one too, Teresa, only she is a different kettle of fish, to quote an analogy.
She is just the sort of person our main character’s handler recruits in a heartbeat. The fact she is in jail when we first meet her just adds to the mystique.
And when the main character and her meet, it’s like water and oil. She had a role to play, even if it’s not the one our main character is led to believe is.
The trouble is, I’m having too much fun playing to the two off against each other, so much so, I’m beginning to like her, as much as I would, in real life (if such a person existed) fear her.
Interesting question: how would I react if my imaginary world suddenly became all too real?
When we first planned to stay in Tuscany for a few days, we wanted to be in a central area. We had thought of staying in Florence and making daily treks, but the tour operator we selected told us it would be better if we stayed closer to Arezzo.
We picked Greve in Chianti, and a place called Antico Pastificio, we booked a standard apartment with two bedrooms, and it was about as authentic Italian you could get. The building we stayed in was the yellow pasta factory, and the apartment named ‘Iris’.
It was only steps away from the main square, shops, restaurants, and at the opposite end, the quaint ringing of church bells at various times during the day.
Gaining access was through a very narrow arch which required some deft driving and then up the road. There were villas and two large apartment blocks.
You can just see the archway at the end of the road. This was the entrance to our room,
along a passage and up the stairs, turning left at the top.
Going straight ahead through the gate to the car park,
and access to the grounds behind the buildings.
This was the view from the lounge/living room. The days were hot, and on several evenings it rained, breaking the heat and making the evenings sitting by the window cool and refreshing.
And the last view is looking towards the town piazza and the church
The time has come to work on the second draft for the editor, taking into account all of the suggested changes, and there are quite a few. So much for thinking I could put in an almost flawless manuscript.
…
A writer has to be all people, and, sometimes that can be a difficult remit.
To start with, I know what it’s like to travel, stay, and work in remote, sometimes primitive, locations. Getting there is sometimes a laborious task, battling the weather, the people, and the authorities.
It can be scary at best and terrifying at worst.
And it can be lonely with tenuous links to those back home.
Now, supplant that with the fact you are in that place on false pretences. You now have to channel all of the above and find a degree of both bravado and confidence, which most times, in reality, you don’t have.
Easy, you say, to write about, because you’re not really there, so you can be whatever you want, do whatever you want.
The problem is, it still has to be believable.
So we’re starting with a character that has a job to do, preferably to be on his own so he doesn’t have to be responsible for anyone he’s working with and can use any or all means available to get the job done.
Still not a difficult portrayal.
Quite often there’s no need to complicate the character by adding a background life, which might mean that he has a wife, which is unlikely if he is an agent provocateur, a girlfriend, which is also unlikely, because as a lover, he doesn’t need the distraction or the problem of keeping secrets, which, because of his job, would be a necessity.
But…
Time to add a complication.
His boss sends an assistant, or partner, one that he’s not told about.
And is a woman.
Suddenly his dynamic changes completely, and we need to have some character analysis, like his attitude to partners, and attitude towards women.
The problem is, how the reader is going to perceive this characterization, and that’s where the job becomes harder because on one hand, you want him to be the epitome of the new age man, and on the other, the hard-nosed agent that has no time for building relationships, and particularly because that person is female.
It’s going to be an interesting dynamic, and now that I have thought about, enough to write this, I can see some elements of his character will need to change.
Needless to say, she is going to be a strong female character, so more about her tomorrow.
Yes, when you are going at it like a bat out of hell, it might be an idea to take a pause and regroup.
That being a pause as an interruption to an activity.
In music, it’s a mark over a note.
Perhaps it’s a good idea to pause recording a TV show while the ads are on. Networks don’t like it, but it makes the show make more sense without the distractions of advertisements, sometimes quite inane, or annoying.
What I just said, might give pause to my opposite number in this debate.
Have you been in a conversation, someone says something quite odd, and there’s a pregnant pause?
How did the word pregnant get into the conversation? That, of course, usually means something significant will follow, but rarely does. But it can also be a conversation killer where no one says anything.
Is that a wide eye in awe moment? You did WHAT?
Then there is the word pours, sounds the same but is completely different.
In this case, the man pours water from the bucket on the plants.
Or my brother pours cold water on my plans. Not literally, but figuratively, making me think twice about whether it would work or not. Usually not.
Or a confession pours out of a man with a guilty conscience. AKA sings like a bird. Don’t you just love these quaint expressions? It reminded me of a gangster film back in Humphrey Bogart’s day.
It never rains but it pours? Another expression, when everything goes wrong. A bit like home renovations really.
Really, it means to flow quickly and in large quantities, ie. rain pours down.
And if that isn’t bad enough, what about paws?
Sounds the same again, but, yes it’s what an animal has as feet, especially cats, dogs, and bears.
One use of it, out of context, of course, is ‘get your paws off me!’
And one rabbit paw might be good luck, but having two rabbit pows, I might win the lottery.
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 