Stephen King speaks...

 I have nothing to say, but he says it all...

I've also read his book, On Writing

Moving right along...

I'm up to the People's Democracy March from Belfast to Derry at the beginning of 1969. I feel a bit like I skated through the last few chapters, but we'll see how this part goes. I've already reworked it and set it down many times, so this may be pretty much where it belongs. Oh, and this image shows the type of home Brendan is living in, at the moment.

A sub-theme that seems to be developing is Brendan wondering about his father's past. He knows very little about it other than he came from Belfast and was in an orphanage run by the church. And that it scarred the man in some way. He knows his father can weave elegant stories, but that's only because he was told so by one of his drinking buddies. Da never weaves the stories for his kids.

Not sure where that's going, yet. It just popped up and I'm sure the meaning will come to me, later. Right now, it's just the brutality of the man that matters, and Brendan's resentment of him and happiness that he's gone.

Something else that's worked in is Ma's fanaticism about cleanliness. Which becomes another problem between him and her because he just doesn't think about it and can wind up dirty without even trying, thanks to the repairs he does. He begins paying more attention when he sees Joanna for the first time and realizes he's filthy from having fixed a car.

I still don't feel like I have the tone or attitude or whatever of Derry, yet, but it's getting there. I think. Maybe after the next two drafts.

I've had friends tell me I'm never going to let go of this story...and they may be right. It could be my White Whale...or Winchester House. Who knows?

Guinness is the cure...

Took me damn long enough to find out that a single Guinness can realign my emotional and physical state and bring be back to the red pen edit of APoS. I'm through chapter five, and seeing it shift into a more realistic portrayal of people living in Derry at the time is making me feel even better. Just had hot tea and DPZ, today, but we'll see what happens tomorrow,

Oh...DPZ is Dr Pepper Zero, not some drug...though it is an addiction of mine.

I'm through APoS to the summer of 1968, then things were getting heated up. The civil rights groups had begun not only demonstrations but staging situations that brought attention to the plight of people needing homes in the Bogside. Sit ins. Moving a small caravan into the middle of a main road on a Saturday to highlight how John Wilson's family of 4 was living in something that was smaller then a walk-in closet, blocking traffic. Confrontation instead of asking and negotiating.

The next chapter leads up to the October 5th march...or the attempt of Catholics to march on that day. It was kind of a mess, to start with...but then the Royal Ulster Constabulary stupidly and viciously attacked the marchers with batons and water cannons, causing many to be injured while arresting others. All in front of news cameras. Showing them off to the world. And this is when things began spiraling out of the  control of Protestants.

In this part, I think I have things better aligned with how the world was, there. It's the first five chapters, where I'm setting up Brendan's family and relationship with his mother and the neighbors as well as his friends, that needed the most work. And still does. But now I'm focused on consistency.

Brendan's also revealed himself to be odd in comparison to other boys. He's not big on playing things like marbles and such, but takes pleasure in repairing items to the extent he gets so lost in it, he doesn't hear people who are talking to him. His best mate, Colm, does manage to drag into being goalie for their football matches because he can work out what the opposing team's players are doing to send a ball into the net...and keeps it out 99 times out of a hundred. But then...that's more like a problem he's solving than a game he's playing.

I already had this aspect of him suggested in there; now it's more overt. I just hope it's not tedious to read.

Baby steps...

Friday was a day of irritation with the world and growing depression, with what seemed like its continuance today. Concern about Ingram's sudden puritanical bullshit. Dealing with a possible information breach in my financial information...which turned out to have occurred through TransUnion because there's a small loophole in the security freeze setup that allowed those people to get some, not all, of my info. Just enough to spook me. Even though I put an information freeze on it. In which case, why bother offering that as an option? Tension headache. Belly ache. On and on.

I got locked down, mentally and emotionally, and honestly could not figure out what to do, for a while. Couldn't write, even in my journal. Just wandered through the internet, watched a lot of dog and cat videos...as well as videos made by two different couples where American women had married Italian men and how they were coping with the differences between Italy and the US in everything. Made cube steak and fires, enough for two, then ate it all and wound up having to take some Alka-Seltzer. Watched The Women for the umpteenth time and generally felt sorry for myself and depressed at my current position in life.

I finally said fuck it and had a Guinness. I'm not a big drinker, and I've had these cans of it for months. They have the little ball inside that helps it foam. Poured it into a tall one-time-salsa-jar I had...and within an hour I was feeling better. I wonder if maybe part of my problem was an iron deficiency.

I changed all my passcodes for credit cards and bank as well as some others I use a lot. Tried to set up 2FA authentication for signing in on a few but that got so screwed up I canceled it all. Decided if Ingram gets nasty I can keep my books going in ebook form; the PB and HC sales are 10% of my total so I can live with it.

The only loss would be my coloring book. Which I might be able to set up through a Patreon page. I know people who do that, and while my art isn't as good as theirs, it is a lot of wicked fun.

But best of all -- I got back to work on APoS. I went back over the first two chapters and added in some changes I'd come up with since the last time I was working on it...and now know I'll need to do at least three more drafts to make it clear and smooth.

To start, the family now lives off Nailors Row, not on, and I'm being nonspecific about that. Same for all locations alluded to. And initially I had it set up so neither Brendan nor his siblings knew of any uncles they had, but that was ridiculous. People in that town know everything about everybody back ten generations.

So he's now learned that his aunt in Houston is trying to make contact with the men, and has four of the seven. Ma, however, wants nothing to do with them because she feels they abandoned her and her sister to the mercy of the nuns in an orphanage. From what I've heard about those places, small wonder she'd hate her brothers' guts.

Shit...I'm having another Guinness, tomorrow.

Unsure what to do...

Okay, Ingram's not even responding to me, now, so I'm firing off a letter to the CEO, Shawn Morin, tomorrow, if I get no love at all. I want this mess explained and I won't stop until it is. My inner hard-head is running things, now, in defense of HTRASG, and it could get messy. They've already hinted if I get too demanding, they'll close my account.

Which leads me to a quandary. If they do, what do I do? Shift to Amazon? HTRASG and RIHC6, they will offer for sale, but not through KDP; already know that. And having been through two occasions where their puritanical nature has taken over and caused me all kinds of shit, I'm very leery of them.

So do I get printed copies and sell them through eBay? They're part of Amazon and just as picky. So do I set up my own shop? I'd rather not, because it could be expensive and I'm fairly certain I'd lose money on it. The vast majority of my sales are through Smashwords. Do I keep them all as available only in ebook? That seems to be the way this is going.

This has messed with me, big-time, focus-wise. And on top of it, a scammer apparently tricked one of the credit reporting agencies into giving them enough info about my credit cards to jolt me with a letter that looks like an official offer to cut the card debt in half. And they knew the exact amount of my cc debt.

Except...their name and address are not on the letter, nor is a signature; just an 800 number. And when I looked that up, it's to a company called Mini-C that has half a dozen offices spread about Chicago's suburbs. Probably people working out of their homes. Give us your cc number and we'll take care of everything.

No. Fucking. Way. I may be dumb but I ain't stupid. I don't think.

So yesterday and today were taken with Experian, Equifax and TransUnion as well as Ingram, and no writing done. I'm getting ticked off.

Ingram is being Amazon...

Okay...apparently after selling HTRASG for 8 years, somehow Ingram decided it's suddenly in violation of their catalogue rules and was removed -- in December 2021. What that violation is? No idea. Can't get a straight answer. 

The first rep said it was still being reviewed after submission, and there was a backlog. When I pointed out the book had already been accepted and distributed years ago, suddenly a different rep was saying it violated their terms and claimed I was sent a notice in December. Which I did not get; I keep all my Ingram emails. So I've asked them to resend it and maybe that will explain WTF is going on.

My gut says this is a situation like what happened with Amazon in 2010, when HTRASG was used by a reporter for Seattle's Fox affiliate as an example of pornography they were selling. Amazon freaked out and stopped carrying all my books, at that time. 

It took me 10 weeks to get Amazon to calm down, actually vet the book and see it does not fall under the aegis of pornography. At least, as set for by the Supreme Court. As laid out in Wikepedia -- 

(The) Court recognized the inherent risk in legislating what constitutes obscenity, and necessarily limited the scope of the criteria. The criteria (are): 

1. The average person, applying local community standards, looking at the work in its entirety, must find that it appeals to the prurient interest...

2. The work must describe or depict, in an obviously offensive way, sexual conduct, or excretory functions...(and)...

3. The work as a whole must lack "serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific values".

The third criterion pertains to judgment made by "reasonable persons" of the United States as a whole, while the first two pertain to that of members of the local community. Due to the larger scope of the third test, it is a more ambiguous criterion than the first two.

So all three apply, not just one or two. 

They finally agreed to offer all my paperbacks, again. But they wouldn't post HTRASG or RIHC6 in Kindle because of the word Rape in them. Ludicrous, but that they would not back down on...and sales never did recover.

So here we go, again. Some puritan dipshit probably complained and Ingram's gone all Amazon on me, regarding this one book. There's far more intense sexual content in my others, but none of them fall into the realm of porn. All have stories with meaning, characters who go through changes, relationships that matter and not one has a sex bit that is gratuitous. They're rough, but they all further the story.

Guess we'll see how it goes.

This is part of the research I'm doing for APoS -- following Derry of the Past on Facebook and reading the comments. Filled with memories and arguments and information, lots of names linked into the thread...it's like sitting in a pub and just paying attention to the chatter...craic, as they call it...

-----

Here we have an old image from early in the troubles when Free Derry Corner was still an end terrace house. Thanks to Michael Johnston for sharing this image. 

Ciaran Andy Anderson I create these replicas of the Corner during this phase in its history, you can see more pics over at Mini Inish if you like. 

Robert James Williams I see the word "Traitor" written, but scrubbed out, over the top line. I wonder what that was about. 

Tony Hewitt Thanks first time seeing the house often visit the bog side and Derry love it 

Anna Wilson My best friend Kathleen Mc Kane and her family lived there , Mc Kane family great people 

Andy P McCarthy Anna Jonny McKane was my uncle married to my Aunt Bernadette! 

Charlotte Kivlehan Bonner Andy P McCarthy Sheila Sinead Catherine Anna Wilson my mum 

Kane Gooch Anna Wilson my mum's old house Anna Wilson You made my day Sinead, we were so chummy, I loved going into your granny and grandas home 

Sinead Catherine Anna Wilson she talked about you a lot! Would love to see old photos of you two if you have any!!!

Anna Wilson I live in Canada now, I haven’t been home since Covid, I am coming mid August till early September, my brother Eugene Quigley’s daughter wedding Gillian is 2nd September, Eugene said she sent 400 invites, I said it sounds more like a convention than a … See more 

Sinead Catherine Anna Wilson I’m in The states I live in Ohio. 

Anna Wilson I live in Glenburnie Ontario, it’s Rural, we country girl, how long have you been there, Sinead

Catherine Anna Wilson I’ve been here since 99 our Kane Gooch is still in Derry and daddy…and all the rest of the lanes 

Geraldine Doran Anna Wilson my daddy and mammy X 

Helen Davies Sad times. 

Somhairlín Gallchobhair Levi Taylor we were just talking about that yesterday lol 

Levi Taylor Somhairlín Gallchobhair some change now 

 Gerry Edelsten That’s the way I remember it, travelling from Donegal to Glasgow as a 10 year old, long time ago now 

 Paul Lennon Gerry Edelsten 60 years at least mate 

Gerry Edelsten Paul Lennon not quite ,don’t mock the elderly, you’ll be old yourself soon enough, ha ha

John Bradley I have a picture of my mother by this wall with Mary Hampson her cousin. While it was still a house. 

Sean Paul Toland Mini Inish have a brilliant casting (if that's what it's called) of this... Love it 

Noel Melarkey did the o Kane family not live In this house 

Caroline McGeady Lana Campbell Maureen Campbell Frances Campbell Patrice Callan Caroline that’s what they’ll look like when they’re finished x 

Hob Bope They missed out the london part 

Noel Melarkey was Tara Linville 

Sinead Catherine Jonny Roulston Joshua Connolly Leo Mclaughlin We’re wud I get a large print of it. Looks deadly 

Kevin Carlin Chris Mc Monagle, was this your parents old house? 

Chris Mc Monagle Kevin Carlin yeah 

Kev A Meinir Thomas I have the same photo in my house.

Why I write...

It's funny. I sometimes worry that I've gone too far in a book...but then I read someone else's stuff and think, shit, I'm still vanilla. Vanilla bean with a dash of dulce de leche, yes, but still...it's a lot for me for me to expose to the world some of my stories. But I keep doing it because writing is therapy, to me. As I've noted before. That's why I wrote my first book, How to Rape a Straight Guy.

If you haven't read the story, to simplify it...it's told by a man named Curt, who's married and an ex-con. While in prison for drugs, he learned how to force a man to ejaculate while being raped. Thought it was a great method of revenge. Even did it to a prison guard who harassed him. He gets out, can't find a decent job, is hustling a couple of gay men in a bar, and reveals his ability...and they make a bet. If he can force a straight cop who's been harassing them to cum while being raped, they'll give him a car and cash. He agrees. And after a false start, they kidnap and do it to one named Shayes...and things spin out of control.

I've gotten my best reviews on that book...and my worst, save 1. People are horrified that I tell the story from the viewpoint of a rapist, but if they make it to the end, they find themselves feeling sorry for Curt.

I wrote it because I was going through a really rough patch. At the time, my mother was living with me and doing better in the film business than I ever had. She was an extra in Music Videos and movies. I was working at a book store. No gay friends, just a couple of straight ones. No need to hide myself but no social life. Losing interest in dealing with movies in any way, which was the reason I'd moved to LA, ten years earlier.

One night, I happened onto a guy on Third Street who was drunk out of his mind and trying to get home. Kind of cute. Lived a couple blocks from me, so I helped him. Liked how he felt leaning on me. Got him into his duplex. He crashed on the bed...and I began to undress him. Got his shoes off. His shirt. His pants undone and down his hips...and froze. 

Memories of my obsessions with Dean Corll in Houston and John Wayne Gacy in Chicago and William Bonin in LA flooded back into me...and I had the feeling if I'd taken one more step, I wouldn't have stopped. Wouldn't have been able to stop. There was something in the back of my heart that howled for more...of what, I'm not sure...just more. I was about to go over the line so left, freaked out at everything exploding within me.

I wrote HTRASG from Curt's perspective so I could understand something about a rapist...which is what I almost became. As I wrote, I found I liked the control narrative writing gave me...and that's what I actually needed. I had wanted control of that that guy...which would not have ended pretty. But with my books, I am in control...even when I think I'm not. And what I wanted was that sense of control in some part of my life.

I've been in therapy, more than once. Never on mood enhancers, fortunately. Close to becoming an alcoholic. And it was writing that saved me. Steadied me. Did more for me in gaining some sense of emotional stability than years of chat with a doctor ever did.

I bitch and I moan and I fight myself as I write, and I complain about my characters being assholes to me...but throughout I know it's me controlling the process. No one else. And that's what counts, in the end...to me...

And that's what keeps me from becoming what I write...

Tension is not a happy travel companion

So I'm heading home from Boise and think I'll get to the airport early and fire up my laptop to do some adjusting on APoS. Had an early lunch at Panda Express, again (don't judge me), then turned in my car and went to check in my bag at Southwest...and turned out I'd been bumped till the next morning. My Boise flight was running too late for me to make my connection in Denver, so they just moved me to a 7am flight on Friday. And I get to pay for my own hotel room. Not one word from them prior to this.

Fortunately, I had worked up some alternatives for just this situation and remembered there was an American flight to Buffalo by way of O'Hare. So checked with them, got a seat and canceled the Southwest flight. Cost an extra $90 and I didn't have time to do anything except get to the plane and find my seat, but it would get me into Buffalo hours earlier than SW would.

Except...then we sat at the gate for half an hour past our departure time. Some problem with the reservation system. Which makes no sense. Still, I had my book to read...and while I was changing planes at O'Hare and only had an hour and 25 minutes between landing and that flight taking off, to start with, I could make it okay.

Except...when we landed at O'Hare, we sat on the tarmac for an additional 15 minutes waiting for a gate. At the end of one terminal. Then I had to be at a gate that was two terminals over and past the security area. No time to grab dinner or a drink or anything. I barely had time to pee, which I absolutely had to do. I made it 1 minute before they'd have locked me out, followed by three other people who were racing to make the connection, too. And American's attitude? Good thing you rushed; you'd have missed the flight.

This is not the first time I've had to hurry between connections, but it's gotten worse. That's part of the reason I don't like to travel, anymore. I'm not able to just enjoy it. It's always hurry-hurry-hurry, the schedules are crap, and the attendants are really apathetic.

Dunno what I can do about it, but I must say -- it does seem like we're regressing to this method of travel...

Ore wagons in Ketchum, Idaho

Bomb...

Looks like I won't be doing anything to continue Blood Angel for a while, because it is not selling. I guess gay vampires only work in TV or under the teasing banner of Anne Rice. Since launching it at the beginning of August, I've sold a whole 7 copies @ $.99 each. Granted, it's only been available for 18 days and is only in ebook format, but that's still pretty bleak. I need to sell 200 just to break even.

I will finish writing the full series, eventually. Once I start a writing project I hate like hell to give it up, even as I bitch and moan and weep and wail about it, nonstop. And BA's nudging at me to get started, again. But I shrug it off because I want to finalize a decent draft of APoS...and I feel like I'm closing in on it.

The job in Ketchum is done, and I didn't do my best with it. I just so disliked the area and being here and I'm in an odd place, emotionally, so some errors slipped in. They're mitigated a bit because even on the packing list I had, it states a number of people have handled and counted this stuff so the numbers aren't precise. But it's still kind of weird to have a Box 18 of photo slides that isn't on the list, and that there is no Box 19, at all, anywhere. On either the list or in the shipment.  And to not notice I wrote one carton number on two different boxes until they were being picked up? That's sloppy.

I'm in Boise, now, and catching a flight tomorrow. Everything went surprisingly smoothly...though if I hadn't allowed the extra time for pickup and packing that I did, I'm sure nothing would have worked right. On a positive note, I passed a library that was having a book sale so stopped and shopped and wound up with six dvds and 4 books for $7.50. Then right next to it is a Human Rights park that made me feel nice...

In Boise. Idaho. The reddest of red states. Amazing...

I'm all feely, right now...

To let me love you is all I need.
Dreams are made with you in my arms
And the world loses all truth...
Except for the moments
Where we exist together.
Simple beauty does not drag me
Deep into your whispering soul.
It is the knowing that you care
I am here.
Nothing more.
Nothing needed.
Except to let me love you.

Idaho is really boring...

It's hot. Everywhere you go looks like generic suburbia. The people drive like idiots, and I'm used to idiots driving like idiots but these folks make those idiots look un-idiotic. The only two good things, so far, are the speed limit is 80 outside the city and they have a Panda Express. I had Beijing Beef for lunch and felt human, despite my fortune cookie having no fortune.

I did NOT like getting up at 2:30am to get ready for the trip. I mitigated it by hitting the bed at 8:30 and sort of slept, off and on. But that did help...except on the plane as I was trying to read I kept dozing off. Didn't work so well for my neck. But at least the flights were all on time.

I then had a 150 mile drive to Ketchum. Check my FB page to see how little interest that drive entailed. To my credit, I didn't start zoning until the last 30 miles. Mainly because I got another idea on how to deepen APoS, thanks to Brendan.

I wasn't going to have him visit his brother at The Maze prison, when he returns from Houston, because Brendan might get found out and arrested. But he learns a college student was recording his father telling some of his tales about Irish history and gets copies of them...and one hints at why the man was so disconnected from NI society. And it references his oldest son, Eamonn.

So Brendan arranges to meet with him, as Jeremy Landau, and Eamonn doesn't recognize him...at first. They talk. Eamonn listens to the tape and sort of answers...but then a guard becomes interested in hearing it because the tale being woven is elegant. This makes Brendan nervous and his little cough pops up, verifying to Eamonn who he is. And Eamonn says, "Sometimes it's best not to know too much about a man."

This needs to be set up or foreshadowed in Book One, which is why I'm getting so detailed with it. 

Worried...

Okay...I've figured out part of my problem, right now, is I'm really nervous about a job I'm scheduled for in Ketchum, ID. Considering the issues the airlines seem to be having with making flights that actually go someplace, I can see a hundred issues falling apart and preventing me from making the trip. And it's got me pretty tense.

First off, I'm booked on a 5:30am flight to Denver, Tuesday morning, then up to Boise, then drive 3 hours. Not my favorite plan. I'm also going to be in an area of the country that is very anti-masking and I will be wearing a mask. Then comes packing archives into boxes in one day at a speed I don't normally do in time to be picked up on Thursday, then back to Boise...and finally getting home at 1:20 am Saturday morning. The whole thing makes me hurt.

I'm changing planes in Denver, right now, and if either of my flights are delayed or canceled, I still have to pay for that night's hotel room. I might lose the car I've reserved, and it will not please a very important client. It's made me very uptight. I hate the thought of not fulfilling an obligation or having to deal with an airline that's going to be a pain in the ass...or people that are. The one good thing is, I'd be traveling alone so don't have to worry about anybody but me.

What finally helped me calm down enough to get rid of a tension headache was working out how to get there through Salt Lake City. That would mean driving 5 hours but could be done. I also found another airline that goes into Sun Valley, which is next to Ketchum. It's more expensive, but it cuts out a 3 hour drive so I could arrive late in the evening.

None of this is perfect. And I'm still too uptight to focus on anything creative...so I watched Murder on the Orient Express (1974), again...and I'm almost back to human. Not one thought towards APoS, however. I'm still too tense.

I'm getting to where I hate to travel...though if I could do the train to there, I'd probably be a lot happier. I love taking the train to NYC.

Foggy day...

Brain-wise. Bright and sunny, outside, but my whole persona was meandering and unfocused. Slept till 11. Didn't dress. Made an omelet that was on the dry side so slathered it with salsa and that sort of helped, but it was DPZ on ice that made it edible. Puttered around. Watched way too many short videos on Facebook. Tried to get myself to work on APoS and failed, miserably. Even cooked up some cornbread, which usually makes me feel good...then didn't eat any.

This wasn't my usual Something's wrong in the story and I need to figure out what sort of situation. It's not me being afraid of writing Brendan honestly. Or getting the locale just right. With those episodes, I was also antsy and irritable. This time? I'm just adrift.

It wasn't till I saw this image that I realized I was feeling deep and lonely. Which is very usual for me. But something about it made me feel easier. Less isolated. Yes, he's got a nice body and all that...but for a moment I felt like I could tell him the story of my life and he'd understand. Like he shared my feelings, thanks to the near-pained expression in his eyes, the gentle tightness on his face. Would not cast judgement. A ridiculous thing to think about an image of a man you've never met, nor ever will, but there it was.

I've been a loner all my life. When I travel, I prefer to do it by myself. I've long preferred to live on my own, and the occasions where I had to share a space hurt me, psychically. Being all but hidden up in Buffalo was actually nice, due to that.

But today I just...I dunno...I just wanted someone I could lean against. A shoulder I could lay my head on and let the world float away. And I don't have that. Never have. This photo had to suffice...and it did well enough for me to regain my bearings.

I think I'm doing a sketch, tomorrow. 

Work...work...work...work...work...

Not. It took me all day to get myself ready to continue rewriting APoS, and I got through chapter 3. A lot of rearranging to do there. There was a jump from Brendan at home (being punished after displeasing his mother) to Brendan running around with his Protestant friend, Billy, that made no sense at all. So it's getting moved.

There's also how Brendan now needs to be dragged away to be with his mates...his Chinas, as he calls them. He gets so focused on his repairs, he shifts into another zone and can't hear when someone's calling to him, so they have to actually take him by the hand. They all think he's weird, but they don't care. He's a good goalie in football (soccer).

Of course, he's only like that when he has a project to work on; he doesn't always. He's also a bit prone to showing off to his Chinas, like when they get caught in a sudden rain and scramble back to his house. He makes tea and pulls out a tin of biscuits and provides milk and sugar, like it's a grand parlor...until his mother comes home and sees how dirty they all are and brings him down to earth. She's angry about the mud and filth in the place, but even more-so for him wasting money on such extravagances. 

Next inputting on this book is going to be slow-going but a lot more solid.

I almost just turned away from working on it, tonight, to watch the new Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris...but it's $20 to stream on YouTube! $20! Fuck that. I can wait for the DVD. I know Angela Lansbury played the part in a TV movie of the same name, but that's only available in VHS, and the series of books by Paul Gallico (the same guy who wrote The Poseidon Adventure) is out of print...though a new movie tie-in for this title is in the works.

Anything to avoid writing.

Draft #???

I've begun rewriting A Place of Safety - Derry with what little I know now about the people. But I'm also making notes about where I need to emphasize the sociology and attitudes of the people involved. I'm through the first two chapters and am getting a sense of what needs to be shifted elsewhere or just plain cut. The story is being told in a semi-linear fashion, where Brendan lays out his family but also has memories that pop up to illustrate one of them, so I can still play with it, some.

For example, he catches his older sister, Mairead, steaming open a letter from their Aunt Mari to their mother. Mai's noticed Ma doesn't tell them everything in the letters and wants to find out what's up. She freaks out when he appears and tries to put it back like it was, but Brendan's curiosity is up now, as well. So she opens it and finds a photo of an uncle they never knew about, forty pounds in cash, and the knowledge Bernadette had seven older brothers, all of whom abandoned her and Aunt Mari to an orphanage. Their aunt's been trying to track them down but Bernadette is against it.

Her family's from Derry so Brendan finds it hard to believe they've never been told about this, and it sets him off to learn more about why. But he hits roadblocks and dismissals, and when his mother finds out what he's doing, serious punishment. So he sets it aside, for now...and then events take over.

I'm also building a map of where both the Kinsellas and their neighbors are situated. I'm going to change the location from Nailors Row to Nailors Terrace, which would keep it in the same general area but does not really exist. I can't write this with any character living on an actual street because Derry-folk will know who lived in what house when. That's been made plain by reading the comments in Derry of the Past's postings, on Facebook. I don't want to get into that mess.

But...that may make this a bit easier...I hope...

On LA Time?

It seems my body clock has shifted to Pacific Time, for some reason, because it's hard for me to get to bed before 2 or 3am and suddenly I'm hungry as hell at 9pm, even after a decent dinner. Tonight I made spaghetti with some sauce from a jar on it, nothing special, but it hit the spot. There have even been occasions I want something to eat just before midnight, so scramble some eggs with cheese and a slice of toast. It's all very spontaneous, starting in the last couple months. So I am a nacho...

But this should help me some in my trip to Ketchum, ID next Tuesday. My flight out is at 5:30am and since I'm checking a bag, I'll need to be at the airport before 4:30. Meaning leave my place between 3:30 and 4am. So I'm just going to take a late nap and stay up the rest of the night...then doze some on the plane.

If all goes well, I should be in Boise by 10am and ready for lunch, and they have a Panda Express that opens at 10:30. Then it's off to Ketchum on a nearly 3 hour drive. I'll have 1 day to do the packing and pickup on the next day, then back to Boise for my flight on Friday, getting into Buffalo at 1:20 am. And that's if none of my flights are canceled or delayed. No telling, these days.

I'll have a book with me to read, for APoS. No need to deal with the adjustments, yet. I also found out that vinegar is a home remedy used to kill head lice in kids...which was endemic to much of the Bogside. But nowhere in anything I've read did anyone do that for their children. Instead, they just used a fine tooth comb to remove the nits, which would never be 100% effective. That might be interesting to have Bernadette use, since she's a fanatic about cleanliness. Maybe she even does it to her children's friends. Making them a bit more isolated because what kid wants to have to go through that if they don't have to?

I will be letting Brendan learn enough about his father in book 3 to explain where the man came from and why he was so violent...and that there was more to him than his drinking and fists. There always is, with people like that, but kids can't see the complexities; just the immediate actions.

Slipping back to normal...

APoS is shifting shape a little as I go through my files and materials. Not just with Bernadette and Eamonn the elder, but every member of the family. Brendan has no grandparents because his mother's are dead and no one knows who his father's are. 

This is highly unusual in the area, especially since Bernadette is a local girl whose full history is know back five generations, and who was raised by nuns in an orphanage, along with her younger sister. That lets everyone who knows her be understanding (and gossipy) about her fanaticism in regarding keeping her children clean; the nuns were not known for being easy about...well, about anything.

Of course, everyone has a theory about Eamonn the elder, who was orphaned...or was disowned...or ran away from home...but no one really knows. He's not considered a relative of the few Kinsellas people know, so it's even wondered if that's his true name. Until he's killed. Then he's all but deified and no questions about him are allowed.

Eamonn the younger is a responsible lad but also forward thinking. He believes gaining a degree from Queens will help his family far more, in the long run, than working menial jobs in Derry, and is so focused on that he doesn't have time for a girl friend. And winds up being the last man of his group not married with a kid on the way.

Mairead is already written close to how she's going to be. Not lovely but level-headed, quick-witted and sharp...and amused at the fact that boys like her boobs more than they do her eyes. She has fun with them...until she connects with Turleigh, who cuts past her defenses. She also knows how to use money and manage a tight household, which is why Brendan is willing to give her half his earnings.

Rhuari is a tag-along who's quiet and watches and understands far more than he ever lets on. Even as a child. He reads voraciously and loses himself in Irish history to the point he starts learning Gaelic, which is discouraged in Derry but available, here and there. He's like Brendan in that he has only a couple close friends and that there's no one else he even wants to be around.

Maeve is a controlling little witch who knows best for everyone, and proves it, over and over. Sharp tongue and quick comments, she's aiming to be one of the Knights of Malta medics, which won't happen until Brendan is long gone to Houston. But until then, she fixes birds and kittens and dogs, to her mother's irritation and about which she does not care.

Last is Kieran, who's the angry one because he's never known his father so thinks the man was a saint, and is filled with Bernadette's hatred of Protestants. He's only six when Brendan leaves, and already something of a hellion.

As for Brendan, he is loyal to his friends and siblings, and automatically assumes they are to him, as well. And they prove it to each other, more than once. His interest in repairing things is almost pathological, though he does like to make money doing it, so he doesn't bother with silly things like playing marbles or running about doing stupid stuff...except with his mates, sometimes.

Wide brushstrokes of each character, but a solid base to adjust them as I do the next rewrite.

Home, again...

The drive home was much easier, even though it rained all night and constantly, in the morning. Kept up until I was down to the 401 and headed for the border crossing. The guys who came to pick the books up were quick and efficient, and brought a pallet to put the boxes on. We built the pallet in the garage, wrapped them up against the rain and it was off to the warehouse. All nice and smooth.

I would like to have seen some of Ottawa, but the rain was too intense to really do anything, so I came straight back to Buffalo. Turned the car in early, dropped the paperwork off, had some pizza as it poured rain in Buffalo, and crashed at home just in time to witness an amazing sunset. This photo was taken through my window, which is dotted with drops of rain.

I heard from Smashwords and they're whining because I did not specifically say at the beginning of the book that all of the characters who get into sexual situations are over the age of 18. I do specify their ages in the text of the book, but apparently that's not good enough. So I added a note to both the short and the long descriptions on Smashwords about that and hopefully that will settle them. This is, quite simply, a first. No other book I've posted with them has required that. Direct to Digital is turning into a pain in the ass.

As regards the world of bad timing, or perfect...in my mail was a plea from Amnesty International to send them money. They published a report, last week, condemning Ukraine for not being more careful about where they put their defensive positions because civilians were getting hurt and killed. Never mind that it's Russia bombing them. Never mind that Russia has invaded that country and is doing all she can to destroy it. Never mind that Russia has slaughtered civilians and bombed school and hospitals and theaters, just like they did in Grozny and Aleppo. Ukraine gets the slaps, and AI uses the pathetic defense of, In other reports we've documented Russian misconduct. It's like attacking a woman for being raped because she didn't wear the right kinds of clothing then saying, We're not condemning her or think she deserved to be raped because she dressed like a slut; we just felt it needed to be pointed out.

I'm sending the damned request back to them with a note that I will never give them another penny. They did more to extend this war and get people killed by Russia, with that damned report, than Ukraine could even think of doing. And true to form, Moscow is using it in their propaganda to justify their terrorism. Bastards.

New world?

Y'know, I love to travel, but lately it's become so difficult to do that I'm beginning to get turned off on it. Today's trip is just the latest exercise in irritation when trying to get someplace. I reserved a car to drive to Ottawa, Canada, with Avis. I'm a Preferred Member since I do so much of this, so I'm supposed to be able to go to the Preferred desk, show my license and get the car and go. Not today.

I got to Avis and the Preferred desk was closed. So I went upstairs to the rental counter...and there were at least 2 dozen people in line. I asked a clerk if someone was going to open the Preferred counter and she said no, I had to wait in line. Which was going VERY slowly. After half an hour of moving only 3 feet forward, I started looking up Enterprise, but for some reason the app I have refused to work. Would not sign me in with my account number and password.

Finally, after nearly 45 minutes, someone came out and said the Preferred counter had been opened, so I scrambled downstairs to get my car. I finally hit the road 50 minutes behind schedule. Then driving down the 90 to Syracuse turned out to be an exercise in further frustration. I swear to God, since the lockdown over Covid, people have forgotten not only how to drive but have lost any sense of road manners.

What is normally a 2 hour drive for me took an extra 30 minutes thanks to too goddamned many people deciding they were going to cruise in the left lane while pacing a semi, that's in the right. And they would not finish passing. One semi actually slowed down so we could get around and pass the asshole, on the right instead of the left. I'm sure I'm not the only person to cast him a middle finger. And don't get me started on all the construction that wasn't being worked on, just then, but still had lower speed limits posted.

Crossing into Canada was easy because I'd set everything up on ArriveCAN...but there was more construction on the 401, and apparently the sign for my turn onto the 416 had been taken down, so I missed it. When I passed the 31, I realized I'd gone too far so turned around. And drove straight into a couple of serious rain squalls. The Houston type, where even with windshield washers going full blast you can barely see.

So finally, I get to my hotel, only 2.5 hours later than I intended, and find the desk clerk weren't kidding when they said they don't have a real cleaning staff. It became very obvious when I lifted the toilet seat to pee. Then there's no food close by so I had fish and chips delivered; not the best but I was hungry. And this map shows how much fun it's going to be to just to get to the road to my location, tomorrow. I think I've picked the easiest. Then comes going to the airport to prep the shipment and returning home. I'm already exhausted. Whimper. Whine.

This isn't the only problem I've had with travel, in the last year. Late or canceled flights. Airports that are still half-closed. Having a line for a rental car company in Las Vegas that was so long, I caught an Uber to my hotel, instead. I'm really nervous about my trip to Ketchum, ID now. I'd almost rather just stay home and work on my writing.

But...I have a list of things I need to dig up in Derry and can only do that there. Like floor plans for the Rossville Flats and prices for items in 1968 as well as movies playing and music being listened to. So I need to pull together more cash to do it. And the only way is to do work where it comes up.

Dammit.

More organizing...and contemplating...

I've got so many files I've downloaded, I'm still going through them. But ideas are formulating. I have a moment in APoS where Brendan follows Joanna and her friends into a music store down Shipquay Street, hears them get excited over a single titled Never Shall I Marry and buys a copy to give her after she leaves...but can't find her. On the reverse side of that single is The Banks of Claudy, which he learns and sings when walking to Claudy to meet up with his brother, Eamonn, who's on the People's Democracy March, not long after.

I was going through comments about the Woolworth's that was on Ferryquay Street and people were reminiscing about buying the latest records there, including 45s. So I start thinking maybe I'll shift it to that shop, instead. Then someone mentioned the candy section, which was grab and mix, and the kinds of candy involved...and I realized another part of the story would make even more sense taking place there.

When he's just turned eleven, Brendan happens onto an argument between one of his friends, Danny, and the boy's father. Brendan can't figure out why they're arguing, but the man slaps or punches Danny, who runs off, his nose bleeding. Brendan catches up to him, takes him to the house of a woman who's friends with his mother and gets him cleaned up. The way it's written now, Brendan convinces Danny to go with him to get some fish and chips...but it would make a lot more sense for a boy of that age to want candy, instead. He's got got money on him, so could afford a nice bag of toffee or caramels or something like that to cheer his mate up.

But...that would mean changing the location of everything...which actually might work better. They'd need to be closer to the Diamond, in the middle of the city...exactly where, I don't know yet...but it just feels a lot more natural this way. And I feel like I'm getting deeper into the story and characters.

I have a map to help work out the logistics. It's from 1946, but redevelopment hadn't changed much of anything, by that point. The Diamond is in the center of the image, with Nailor's Row just to its left and up a little. Shipquay is to the right and Ferryquay is just below. And I can already see how it will work out.

I love it when that happens.

Organization at my station...

Today was mainly spent going through the files I've downloaded from Derry of the Past and neating the comments attached to them, as I read them. I'm focused on the time period prior to 1973 and around 1981, only, but there's a lot from the whole history of Derry in photos and people's memories. It's like I'm listening in on conversations in a pub as others reminisce. Kind of sneaky but very useful.

I've gotten a lot of images off there that I've posted on my blog as well as links to other sites with information that's helping form the story and characters. Like this image of Edmiston Keys from 1970. People posted so much in the comments about the toys and Christmas shop and how someone once bought a Monopoly game there...a moment I wrote to happen in a shop up by Austin's Department Store is going to be changed to here. It works better.

Brendan is waiting for a clerk at the shop to arrive for work so he can give him a watch he'd repaired for the man and get the schilling he was promised. But his mother catches him and thinks he's planning to buy a toy instead of give the money to her, like a good son should. He's only 11, but it gets rough and a constable has to get between them. 

It comes out that Brendan's actually giving money he makes to his older sister, Mairead, because she uses it for the family while his mother gives some of what they get from the dole to the Catholic Church...even though that's barely enough to live on. In response, his mother takes him to their priest to explain where the money goes...which does not go at all well and sets him down a path of wariness regarding the church.

Needless to say, this all comes back to cause trouble as his life goes on.

Techie blues...

I'm trying to figure out how to set up a new website with GoDaddy...and all it's led me to is wondering whether or not I actually need one. I only used my old one to link people to places where they could buy my books; I didn't sell direct. So what would I use it for?

Other authors have websites that are full of major flash and dash to sell their books, but I'm sure they're putting a lot of money into them. Nicholas Bella writes books along the same lines as me, if maybe a bit more mainstream and with better consistency, and his website's got scrolling and lots of droplets and links to trailers for his work and upcoming and it's like a full-scale business. I suck at that kind of stuff.

I post on Facebook and Tumblr and GoodReads, and those gain me the most in sales. I've never been a big seller, nor do I think my books ever will be. My three forays into mainstream have gone nowhere, and that's despite me sinking thousands of dollars into making them and getting them advertised. So I either get someone to do this for me who knows what they're doing, at a price, or I keep muttering along.

I have found I prefer the latter. I'm not a seriously ambitious person. I've always liked the idea of success, but not to the extent of becoming slave to it. I also know a lot of success is luck and persistence, neither of which I've ever had. I sometimes wonder if I have a touch of ADHD or am on the low end of the Autism spectrum, because I have a hell of a time sticking with anything straight through to the end. I get bored with whatever project I've started and drop it halfway. That I have nearly 3 dozen screenplays written is still amazing to me, let alone a dozen books.

I've only gotten this far with A Place of Safety because I keep shifting off to other projects and then come back to it...and it inches further along. I've got thousands of documents and files and dozens of books collected over the last 20 years, and it's only just now getting close to completion. So maybe this is my inherent method. Tortoise, not hare. Slowly closing in on the finish line.

Slow shift...

I'm trying to get back to reading my books for APoS but I keep dozing off. It's not lack of sleep doing that to me; it's probably just age and sitting on a comfy couch by a picture window on a warm day. I remember when I used to be able to read just about anything while seated in an overstuffed chair at my grandmother's and get so lost in the story I wouldn't hear anyone when they spoke to me. Sucks getting old.

I already see I need to do a better job of setting up Bernadette and Eamonn (her husband). Brendan's brother, Eamonn, already has some solid aspects of Derry in his character, but I'm unclear about their parents. I have ideas about where they came from and how they wound up living in sub-standard housing, but it's still kind of sketchy. Granted, most of the housing in the Bogside of Derry was dilapidated by the mid-60s, but that's beside the point.

This photo shows the tail end of Nailors Row about 1950, and the buildings in the lower-left, facing the wall, had been torn down by 1955. The ones up by Walker's Pillar, shown in previous photos, lasted another 20 years before being demolished. That's the area where Brendan's family lived, and those people all knew each other going back generations.

That's how it was throughout Derry, really. Reading recollections and stories of the place, even drunks sitting in the street could recite a child's ancestry from his great-grandfather or mother. And I don't really have that. There's also the issue of cleanliness. Lots of kids then had head lice (they called them nits) and were less prone to bathing since they didn't have indoor plumbing. That's another thing I never had to deal with, personally. If anything, we were kept extremely clean...and I only hint at Brendan's casual attitude about bathing, so far.

I guess it's time to hone the story down to its basics. Something writing Blood Angel showed me was, I can be overly descriptive, at times. And while it reads nice, it also hides the story. And it's especially unnecessary when being told in first person, like most of my work is. Lean and clean, Kyle.

Never let it be said I didn't aim high with my writing...

In process...

Got notes back from my editor on Blood Angel...and there were some typos that were so damned obvious, it's embarrassing I didn't see them, myself. I did another skim over the story as I input her corrections, and got it ready to upload to Smashwords...so just did. It's passed the autovetter and now I'm awaiting a final review before it's totally ready to go. Link is above.

I'm a bit nervous about that because in the middle of the book, Léonidès is murdered while being raped. Prior Pious strangles him, thinking he's ending Léon's chance of becoming a Blood Angel...but it doesn't work. They may see this as snuff or something and say they won't carry it.

Then Leon feeds on two men in the course of the second half, killing them. One after raping him, like Pious did to him. He's realizing this enhances the feeding. The second man is condemned to die, anyway, for having murdered a merchant, but it's still difficult to deal with.

Anyway, I've informed them up front that this is a work of gay erotica and horror, but since Smashwords merged with D2D, I'm unsure about what their reaction will be. I did notice that under its listing is the warning taboo erotica. And since the story is being told in first person, by Léon, I'm hoping it's obvious his death isn't absolute.

On a positive note, I got a 4-Star review for How to Rape a Straight Guy on Smashwords:

A confused and angry character, a riveting read. The writing was amazing, as were the characters. I consider this an unforgettable story.

Not very detailed but positive. I'll take it.

I'm currently reading Strong About it All, about how the Troubles and issues with the authorities affected both Catholic and Protestant women in the Derry area. I've got half a dozen more to go through before I turn back to the story...but this is for a specific reason and it's time to make it happen.

What did I do all day?

I honestly have no idea. I paid some bills, balanced my checkbook, bought a few groceries, had a chili-dog at Ted's because they make onion rings that are like crack, worked on the synopsis for BA...and that's it. How does that take up a full day?

I mean, aside from the political junk I do on Twitter?

Oh...and I had an idea for the beginning of BA's 2nd book and wrote that out. Then I read a fascinating piece about William Caxton and his printing of Le Morte d'Arthur, by Sir Thomas Malory. Which also gave me some ideas for the lead-up to the story. Malory was a real criminal...whoa. But I'm holding off doing anything more. Let the story percolate for a while.

Oh...wait...I did spend an hour making popcorn in an air-popper that doesn't really work. You put the kernels into this container, they swirl and get hot...and then half the damn things spit out before they begin to pop. I used a 1/4 cup of kernels to start with, which was half what they suggested, then tried it with two tablespoons; the second one I got 7 kernels popped while the rest went everywhere. It was easier to deal with a pot on the stove, using olive oil, and nowhere near as messy, overall.

Tomorrow, I'm diving back into my Irish books for A Place of Safety. My focus, as mentioned many, many times, is to make the characters as real to locals as I can. I know I'll never achieve perfection but if I can get them close...

I'm also back to having discussions with Brendan about his character. I was thinking of making him lightly autistic and he's not having it. "I don't need an excuse to be solitary or do as I want," is his response. "I am who I am, and that's what drives too many mad." I think the only characters I really need to work hard on are his mother, Bernadette, and his older brother, Eamonn, named after his father. The neighbors already have a bit of an attitude and love their gossip. I just need to keep it from sounding too twee...

Oh, right...that'll be easy...