What Would Tolstoy Do?

Well...I seriously doubt he would pore over his manuscripts, all written in longhand with a quill pen, and make non-stop changes and corrections.  I have this image of writers like him and Dickens and Jane Austen and Henry James forming their works complete on a page and making minimal adjustments once written.  It's like they had to think about every word before committing it to ink because to rework the story meant rewriting every damned page and that would have been ten kinds of chore.

But now we have operating systems and programs that make changes so damned easy, it's like nothing you write can be considered permanent until you decide to give up on it or get so sick of going over and over and over it that you send it off, in disgust.  A stroke of a keypad and BAM -- this paragraph vanishes into that chapter.  This word becomes that phrase.  This moment of tenderness and grace becomes a comedy of misunderstanding and ill-mannered numbskulls.  It takes a whole new kind of discipline to write, these days -- one that reminds you sometimes you can rewrite a story into the ground.  Which I have done with a couple of scripts.

But...and this is not a positive admission...this is the part of the process I most love.  Which is why I keep rewriting and rewriting and rewriting my work.  Every time I find something that can be clarified or better said or shifted just a bit to gain deeper meaning.  I also find inconsistencies, even after a dozen passes through the story.  But eventually it gets to the point where you wonder if you're losing the essence of the characters and over-explaining the plot to the point of confusion...and you lose sight of what you were trying to say.

Case in point was what I almost did to "Desert Land."  This is a 4000 word short story that I rewrote 20 times to get right and then stopped.  And sent it out.  And got a couple of rejections.  So I decided to revisit it...and wound up changing the ending.  For the worse.  I actually sent it out with the new ending before realizing it was wrong, wrong, wrong and totally at odds with the rest of the story.  Fortunately, the literary magazine that liked it had the original ending so I can now dismiss the others should anyone be fool enough to want it.

I'm close to falling into the pattern with "Lyons' Den", so I've deliberately made myself do only 1-2 chapters a day to keep from getting swept up in the story and "trying to make it even better" without any real thought.  Yet somehow, being only halfway through this polish, I've still managed to add nearly a thousand words and 6 pages to the book.  This makes me nervous.  When I'm done with this draft I'll have to let it sit for a while to cool down then go through it with a fine-tooth comb to make sure I haven't ruined it.

I may even jump back to "Hunter" for a while just to jolt my brain out of the mindset it's trying to settle into.  Nothing like a pair of pissed off queers to clarify things in your brain.

I'm confused

I just watched "I Love You, Phillip Morris" and cannot understand why this movie did not get a decent release in the US...aside from flat out homophobia on the part of distribution companies and theaters.  It's a well-done film about a man so busy lying to everyone, when he finds his one true love he can't stop lying because that's all he knows...and damn near destroys that love.  Jim Carrey was good in it but you never forget he's Jim Carrey...and to be honest, you never forget that he's a straight man playing a gay one whereas Rodrigo Santoro, who played Jimmy, is straight but he's very gay in the movie.  Same for Ewan McGregor, who could play a bunny-killing serial murderer and make you both believe him and care about him.  He definitely deserves an Oscar, at some point.

But that aside, the story was fun and honest, funny and sad, a bit too slick for its own good, sometimes, yet still true to its characters.  So why was it only released on 6 screens in America?  And then only after being kicked around like a second-rate piece of filth for years?  The only answer I can think of is, they didn't think American audiences would accept it...and there's some truth in that.  Just reading the comments on the movie's IMDb page shows straight guys were uncomfortable with the movie.  But the 14-24 year olds are becoming a minimal part of the audience for films; they're busier with video games.  And there are 15-30 million gay people in this country, depending on whose estimates you use, yet they barely get served by films outside of gay porn and indies that are all about pretty boiz having easily solved problems.  "Brokeback Mountain" is proving more and more to be an aberration.

Of course, members of the gay community were also up in arms about it because they felt it showed gay men in a bad light, and considering how long a history there is of making queers victims or villains of sexless sidekicks (Ruppert Everett in "My Best Friend's Wedding", for example, though he damn near snuck around that nonsense just by the force of his screen presence), I can see their point.  But as a writer, I bristle at anything that minimizes the true human experience.  And Steven Russell WAS a gay con man who ruined people's lives but still was lovable enough to have them care about him.  In that, the movie did a fine job.

What's interesting is, ILYPM made 1.5 times its budget in the overseas markets, including Russia.  So it could have done well if Hollywood had wanted it to.  They just didn't really try.  And that's sad.

Worked through a couple more chapters of LD.  Nothing much else to say.

Death to the AARP

Turns out some stealth Republican at AARP, a guy named John Rother, has agreed to consider cuts to Social Security because it needs to be fixed.  Never mind that it doesn't, that Social Security has enough cash to pay full benefits for the next 20+ years and that it could be made even healthier if they'd just raise the cap on income that pays into the program.  Never mind that the economy is teetering on collapse and unemployment is still over 9%.  Never mind the criminality of the Banksters and Wall Street scum who looted people's life savings and no one's doing anything about.  Never mind the union-busting and the shredding of personal rights as we approach police statehood and the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and now Libya (thank you so fucking much W for setting it up so that Obama feels he does not need Congress' approval to attack another country) and the crumbling infrastructure in the US and the millions of homes being foreclosed upon and the more than 50 million uninsured...no, we need to cut Social Security benefits now, now, now and destroy Medicare as we know it.

I joined the Association for Retired Americans, in response.  I'm old enough, now.   And I told AARP they can go to hell.

And then I got down to what's important in my life -- working on LD.  I've worked through 3 chapters and found a few typos as well as spots where I could make things clearer.  I'm also cleaning up Tad's use of English a bit.  He probably went to prep schools his whole life, so he'd never use "gotta."  That's an Ace word.  It's also fun to emphasize how, despite the fact that Daniel shifted Ace's looks to reflect Tad's, he still had him talk like he never finished high school English.

I couldn't keep at it too long; I hopped over to the office to feed the cats for the last time (I was taking care of them while everyone was out of town) and had a so-so enchilada meal at Elmwood Tacos (whose rice is pathetic, however, and tasteless and the whole meal is WAY overpriced) then got a haircut and went for a walk around the lake, so I'm feeling tired, now.  I'll work on LD more tomorrow and through the week.  I have until the end of July to get them a final, final draft.  By the time I'm done, it'll be diamonds.

I also got a new camera.  That thing I bought from Vivitar is crap when you try to shoot close-ups, so I went with a CoolPix, again.  I know how to work that one and I found out it was only $50 more than the Vivtar was.  Serves me right for looking for price instead of quality.

I want some tea...and I think I'll watch a Hitchcock movie.  I've had two online buddies reference "The Birds" in the last week, so maybe it's time to view it, again.

Back to LD

I need to go through "The Lyons' Den" a few more times before sending it off to the publisher as my "last, final version" so they can put it into their lineup for Spring, 2012.  Meaning head follows heart and nothing is to be accomplished by sitting here...therefore I offer a photo that fascinates me.

Something about this composition and lighting is so tender and mysterious and rich and innocent, I've got it on my desktop.  I could see a story building around the idea of such an image, something shifting and experimental and open to discovery, and I don't know why.  It just feels that way.  Of course, the only way I can discover the touchstone it's slipped into my palm is by following it...and I ain't got the time right now, baby.

America the psychotic

I am getting so fucking sick of how this country is going.  It's been building for years...hell, ever since the GOP impeached Clinton for lying about cheating on his wife when 25% of the sanctimonious bastards and bitches pushing that impeachment were found to have done far worse, and 75% of the country said, "Don't do it."  Then Bush 2 stole the election thanks to his buddies on the Supreme Court, in direct violation of the Constitution.  Then 9/11 and the hysteria that followed, as if no one else in the world had ever been hit by terrorism before.  Ireland?  Israel?  Italy?  Germany?  France?  England?  Japan?  Spain?  Australia?  Who cares they've been through stuff that's just as bad and behaved like adults afterwards?

Then came the lies about Iraq and the invasion and the governmental intrusions and the Democrats playing the part of a battered wife, over and over and over, and the election of Obama (who was anything BUT a progressive, if you paid any real attention to what he was saying).  And then the fake scandals and the doctored videos aimed at destroying liberal organizations and true progressives, all aided and abetted by the Democowards.  And the GOP blaming everyone but themselves and Wall Street for collapsing the economy and exploding the deficit.  Now unions are being destroyed and the press...that great and liberal institution...cares more about a congressman's dick than it does about anything else in the world.

So...another progressive has been run out of office, NOT because he did anything illegal but because he got caught being a skank.  The right wing thugs have another victory thanks to the Democrats, lead by Nancy Pelosi.  And if anyone thinks this is the end of it, they're crazy as hell.  The GOP now sees a way to destroy anyone they disagree with -- find one little thing that person has done that someone somewhere might not like and scream about it as if it's the worst thing in the world.  They'll fall down and kick and hold their breath and then people will give in just to shut them up.  The GOP's doing that with the debt ceiling, even as we speak...and they flat out won't listen to the Chamber of Commerce and Moody's insist to them it's a big, big mistake.

But what's worse is...the American people put up with it.  75% of Americans like the health care reform act, but they won't make their congressmen pay attention.  75% of Americans think raising taxes on the wealthy is a good idea, but they won't make their congressmen pay attention.  They're like parents who have a 5 year old tossing a fit and are trying to ignore him, even as he wreaks havoc on everyone around him.  The GOP is completely out of control, and Americans won't do a damn thing about it before it's too late.

In Greece, they have protests and near riots and let their government know they'll pay a price if they protect the bankers at the expense of the people.  Iceland's citizens flat out said, "No" to demands they take on the debts of stupid banks who helped cause an explosion in property values and bad loans.  In Morocco they're still demonstrating to force real democracy on their government instead of this pseudo-sort-of-kind-of thing those in power are trying to get away with.  In Syria they're dying trying to overthrow a dictatorship.  In America, it's all a big shrug as the country is destroyed around us.  And you can see it all in exactly how Anthony Weiner was driven from office -- over sexting -- while those who've helped Wall Street and the banksters loot the country are given free passes because it's not as interesting or titillating and besides, who cares?

We're shallow fucking people.  And our country is dying.  And we don't care.  All that matters is, a Weiner showed his wiener.  Disgusting.

Pricey Broadway

Damn, tickets to Broadway shows are ridiculous, even when discounted.  $75 for something OFF-Broadway, even?  And none of the shows really interested me enough to even consider shelling out six or seven times the price of a movie ticket to sit near the back and listen to tiny people on a stage yell at me.  But then, I've never been all that much into plays; I guess it's just not part of my temperament.

So maybe I'll go see some indie films while I'm down there over 4th of July weekend.  That city does get everything in the way of movies that are released.  Plus it won't be as long-term a commitment, just two hours instead of nearly 3 and not starting till after 8pm.

I discussed the contract with Star Books Press and they allayed my concerns to an extent, so I signed the contract and will send it to them tomorrow since my scanner isn't willing to scan.  Probably because I don't have it connected for that, for some dumb reason, and can't find the cable for it.  I can print so I thought that was all I needed.  Wrong.  I be no tech savvy.

"Hunter" has settled into purr mode, sitting in a window full of sun and letting me scratch its ears as the story unfolds in this appallingly brutal fashion.  It helps to have an idea of where events are heading, and about halfway through the story things will shift, dramatically.  But don't anyone think I'm doing one of those infamous shifts like "Dallas" did with Bobby suddenly appearing in the shower after a year of everyone thinking he was dead, and the previous year turning out to have been just his wife's nightmare.  That was dumb.

Of course, what this story is headed for may be just as dumb, I don't know.  I guess I'll find out when it happens.  And I got a feeling if I like it, I won't care if it DOES seem dumb.

It's my story and I can screw-it-up if I want to...and that doesn't even begin to fit the rhythm of the song I'm paraphrasing.  Hmph...me be no singer, either.

The Devil in the Details

I'm not crazy about the contract I was sent for LD.  It's not bad...but they want the right to change my work without my permission and if I sign this thing, the only way I can tell them not to is to kill the deal.  So I've asked them to change that part of the contract...and we'll see how that goes over.

A bigger problem may stem from how they want it set up for final submission.  The story's just about 60,000 words long which works fine for most novels...but they want it to be a 200-280 pages in this particular format, and when I switched it to that format, it came out at 147, including the title page.  Not great.

You see, I just plain do not want to add anything to the story.  It'll come across as padding and will throw the whole rhythm of the piece off.  So...unless these two issues can be resolved, I may have jumped the gun in thinking I was getting published by someone more mainstream.  And I'm at that stage of life where I ain't compromising.  Been there.  Tried that.  All you wind up with is crap, and that does nobody any good.

So I took a walk and wrote some on "Hunter"...actually, just went through and reworked some of what I'd already done before adding a bit more...and I now see what the story is about.  And why it's doing what it's doing.  This is going to be closer in temperament to "How To rape A Straight Guy" than anything else I've done, since.  But at least Vermin's being both funny and scary while Hunter, himself, though trying to prove he knows what he's doing...and not succeeding very well...is rearranging his world, a bit, and getting kookily paranoid as the story goes along.

35 pages...8000+ words...and it's just getting going.  Another marathon.  At least my brain's getting a workout.

We are not impressed

I watched "The King's Speech" this evening since I've got some buzzing going on in my brain and need it to sort itself out before I continue work on "Hunter."  Seems the beast of a story is now doing a one-eighty on me and I'm rather taken aback.  Especially after the ninety degree turn it took just a couple days ago.  If I make it though this story without whiplash, it'll be a miracle.

Anyway...the movie.  Well...Colin Firth was predictably good and the script was very tightly structured, but Best Picture?  Best Director?  Seriously?  For this journeyman work where you could see every beat in the story coming fifteen minutes prior to arrival and the camera was so badly placed half the time, I nearly screamed?  I guess the Academy had to take a breather after the cinematic intensity of "Slumdog Millionaire" and Hurt Locker".  But if I'd paid $12 to see this, I'd have felt cheated.

In that vein...I happened onto a festival in Toronto, where you submit the first 10 pages of your script and if you get selected, you get a staged reading.  It's backed by WILDsound and the Toronto Film Board and happens 4 times a year, if I understand this right.  For the hell of it, I sent in "Find Ray Tarkovsky"...and it's one of the finalists, out of how many, I don't know, but there there were over 200 submissions overall.  The top 4 are announced July 5th, when I'm in NYC. Then comes the last stage on July 30th...about the time I'd be leaving for Texas.  But since I'm driving, I can wait to leave.  Be a nice birthday present.

Oh...and I do have my own page with a short interview of sorts...well, more of a questions and answers kind of thing.  http://www.wildsound.ca/kylemichelsullivan.html  Makes me happy...and feeling a bit irreverent.

This just in...Star Books Press wants to publish "The Lyons' Den".  They sent me a contract.  I haven't really read over it, yet -- hell, I only got it half an hour ago -- but it sounds more promising.  Now I need to talk to my current publisher and let him know.  This will prove interesting.

Oh, for God's sake, Kyle.  LIFE is interesting.  At least, that's what they tell me.

Distractions galore

I watched the Tony Awards, tonight, and I'm in love with Neil Patrick Harris.  He can do everything -- sing, dance, act, rap -- and still look cool, calm and collected...even when he jumbles the lyrics.  If he won't marry me, maybe I'll chase after Daniel Radcliffe, he's so adorable.  I'm glad Frances McDormand won because her speech was funny, but I really wanted Vanessa to.

I don't really know what the plays were -- except for "Normal Heart"; I've read that one.  And I'm familiar with "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert" and "Brief Encounter" because I've seen the movies...but something about the staging just doesn't work in my head, for those two.  I guess because I loved the cinema versions and can't see them working properly on a stage and the bits I saw looked like bastardizations of both formats.  It was the same for "La Cage Aux Folles," which was a play before it was a movie before it was a musical...though I may just go ahead and see it over the 4th of July weekend to see if I'm wrong, if I can afford tickets.

"Hunter" is coming along...and messing with me.  What initially looked like a very dark, disturbing story of erotica has taken a twist I wasn't expecting...and don't know how I feel about. But it's that very fear that's making me think I ought to just take the leap and let it run.  Who am I kidding?  I've finally caught on to the fact that I HAVE to let it run; otherwise things get really nasty.

The lead character, Hunter, is still disturbing, as is his cohort, Vermin.  I have images for them but I'm not going to post them, this time.  I halfway think that casts something of a jinx on the story and I want this one to be done ASAP.  I'm already close to 8000 words and can easily figure it being 7 times that many long.  It'll be interesting to see if I can pull this off and not alienate my few fans.

So...you know that feeling you have when you're on a roller-coaster and it's near the top of the first drop and you're trying not to scream before everyone else on the damned thing and the edge is getting closer and closer and closer and closer and closer....?

Too late; I'm on the downhill slide!  AAAAAAIAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE!

A form of coma

When I sit at my Mac and try to write, I find myself wasting time...for the most part.  I surf the web.  Look at interesting sites I've bookmarked.  Check the news (as nasty as it is, lately).  Comment on blogs.  Have flame wars with right-wing-nuts.  Get berated.  Get praised.  Listen to music.  Watch videos on YouTube.  And just wander.  Sometimes for days.

But suddenly the world can vanish as this wave rolls over me...and I never know where it's coming from or what it means until it's done.  I have fifteen different projects I want to write or rework into books.  I've been working on "Place of Safety" for years, trying to get at least a first draft completed.  I have others I've been able to get myself to do quick rewrites on.  And I manage to move ahead in steps and stages.  But then...like the flicking of a light switch...I turn into coma-guy and nothing else matters.

I eat less, and I drink too many DPs and OD on hot tea.  I sit at the keyboard for hours at a time, breaking only when my bladder can't hold another minute (I think that's why I focus on the fluids instead of the solids; takes less time to pee than shit).  I'll take short breaks when things get too intense...but then I'm drawn back to the project that's taken over my life.

Today is the first time I actually can acknowledge that I tend to work this way.  It's not so much a case of waiting for the muse to strike or birthing characters who then snap at me like drill sergeants out to mold my will to theirs.  It's more a low-key psychosis that boils up from within and explodes into my world...and I become brutally resentful of anything that takes me away from it.

I've had moments of this on POS...and on BC and LD.  I'm having one, again, and it's taking all my will power to write this instead of continuing with the story I'm channeling.  Since in the space of 3 days...no...two days, since I can only write at night during the week...I've written 30 pages.

I have no idea where this one is going, but it's already taken a turn for the vicious and has become a bit scary to me.  And it's left "Dair's Window" crushed on the side of my life's road, for the moment, as POS waits calmly around the corner.  Brendan always was the survivor.

I guess I don't know me and never will.  That or I'm crazy as hell and am just now catching onto the fact.  Whichever it is, I'm off to do battle with words and grammar, again.  Tally-ho!

Okay, that last word definitely means I'm nuts!