Toronto bound in the am...

I'm checking a couple of book dealers from the US out of the Toronto International Antiquarian Book Fair, tomorrow, so won't get a lot of writing done. Then Wednesday I'm off to Washington DC for another packing job. I'm just at 17,600 words on DW so am beginning to wonder if I will make it.

Today I had my car serviced so did some work while waiting, then I had some decent BBQ at a Dickey's. It's a chain but it's better than anything else I've found up here because they have a good spicy sauce. After that it took me half an hour to buy friggin' milk at a grocery store because it was so packed and I was too stubborn to return the milk and just get some at a gas station en route home even though it costs a buck extra there...but it fit my mood.

I'm sort of lost in the story, right now, so did some rewriting that added some bits and helped me clarify some things and now wonder if the story isn't a bit boring? It's sort of a character study of two men -- one dead, one alive -- but it's not very interesting or meaningful, yet. I know I'm just doing the first rough draft to figure out what the story's about and why Jacob causes such chaos and what the meaning is of the window Dair's not working on so I can keep from wasting time and effort...but it ain't working.

I'm finally seeing Adam clearly and seeing his shift from, basically, a feral cat that will happily eat the food you leave out for it but won't let you scratch its ears to a happy tabby that just wants to rub against you and be cuddled. Dair, however, is a different story. He's still too tightly wound for me to understand and work towards...and half the problem is how I'm starting his part of the story -- years after Adam has died and he's dealt with a hideous legal situation due to his dead partner's hypocritical parents. He's got walls up for protection.

Doesn't help that Wallace has pretty much destroyed Dair's love for Adam while defending him in court. Which makes me wonder -- why would Dair let a man like that get close to him unless he didn't really love Adam? Unless Wallace is just revealing his true deeper feelings about him? I have no idea. Oh, Dair's talking to me, sure...but not about anything.

And it's driving me nuts.

Had a bit of a breakdown...

This has been such a hideous week...with the murders of people in a synagog and C/W bar and the election being a gentle wave instead of a blue tsunami and fires burning all over my home state and people dead from that. A friend's father died and other friends have had to evacuate while even more watch the approaching flames with wary eyes. And that SOB in the White House continues to sow hate, division, distrust and lies without end...and it finally caught up to me.

DW is proving to be a raw, difficult book in how its world it set up and I'm finally seeing just how much. Dair is betrayed by his sister-in-law and the courts. He's brutalized by his dead lover's parents. He's sensing he's a rebound guy with Wallace, thanks to learning things about Jacob and him. He keeps remembering disruptive parts of his relationship with Adam. It's coming out that he's always had to fight a streak of homophobia in the town and that's probably why he left to go to college and spend 2 years in Europe studying stained glass. And I'm finally seeing how Adam is unable to help him find peace. I don't know if he ever will.

I don't see Adam as an angel...more like a presence...a thought drifting in the world that seeks to connect with someone it still has a slight link to before it vanishes into forever...and I'm having a hell of a time working that out. So much so it tore into me and I had to stop and sit and just not do anything for half an hour. Nothing. I just sat...and looked at nothing...because I suddenly felt Adam's loss as if I were Dair.

I remembered reading Milton's Voltaire's Candide years ago and wondered if it would be worth a second look. Its premise was, finally, the world is fucking crazy and it's best to leave it alone and tend to your own garden. I didn't agree with that, then, and don't today, not really...but I do understand it better...and would love to back away even more than I already have. But it's not possible. I have a job in Washington DC next week and Hong Kong the week after that...and on Sunday I'm in Toronto.

So on I must go and continue my search for this story's meaning...because I have a feeling once I find it, it will comment upon APoS in ways I don't yet know or understand. Which scares me, a little. And intrigues me.

And which is why I can't stop.

Fighting...and fighting...

Not just to keep going forward with the book but apparently two of my characters are fighting to see who gets to tell the story, as if they can't do it together. Not sure why this is happening but it is and I'm ripped about it.

Adam wants to reveal his life as a counterpoint or reflection of what Dair is going through in the real world. He remembers seeing Dair angry and close to doing something that would rupture his family, and he thinks of when he saw a bird get hit by a car and the car kept going. He went to the bird, found it was not yet dead but was dying so cradled it in his hands until its last breath then dug a grave with his hands and buried it. He senses Dair is about to do that to himself and wants to protect him, so distracts him long enough for him to cool down.

However, Dair was raised to defend himself, and he doesn't tolerate people spitting on him for being gay. He has a temper and can get self-righteous...but he wants me to present that as strength instead of something troubling...which is how Adam sees it. And reality is, Dair fighting Adam's parents for years in court...that's almost killed him as an artist. He can still create, but his new works aren't as vibrant or audacious as those he developed while with Adam. They're careful. Lovely. Appealing to just about everyone. Safe.

His art is dying. His love for Adam is dying. His belief in himself is dying. Because he cannot stop fighting something bigger than him that will never end -- the hate and cruelty and intolerance of the world.

God...that sounds silly...

FUCK -- what the fuck am I trying to say with this story?

DW keeps on going...

Adam is talking to me...and sharing...and it's amazing how much he trusts me to do right with his story. His part of the story, beginning from the point where he's kicked out of his home by his parents when he's only 15 to when he sees more in Dair than just a possible meal ticket. 7 years of his life...

I'm still trying to work out exactly how the window imagery works into the story. I never did address that in the script, except for Dair not being able to work up the stained glass window he was commissioned to do by his grandfather...and how he can't do it till he's made peace with himself. It was very awkwardly done and now I'm seeing as how forced it seems.

Something that's happening that I'm not sure about (but which I'm going with, for now) is how descriptions of the places and of people change slightly as the characters change. As their perceptions change. Adam can be honest about how he initially sees people in one way then shifts his view of them as he gets to know them because he's dead. But how can I do that with Dair and Marion and Wallace and Jacob?

Something else that's happening is how diagrams I worked up of Dair's home and the area around his place have to change thanks to things the characters want. Especially as regards directions. I was going to have Dair's dining room made over into his studio...but it was facing the wrong way so my thought was to just flip the blueprint of the main floor...except Adam likes it where it is because it would work better as a bedroom and he wants to use a bedroom at the other end of the building for the studio. Why? "The morning sun would wake whoever sleeps in here...and that is as life should be."

I'm not going to finish the book by the end of the month, but I'll damn well make the 50,000 words at the rate it's going.

Here we go...

The country is headed to the dark tunnel, not the light one. How symbolic -- the one on the right. How fucking perfect.

I have nothing more to say except god damn Republicans and those who didn't bother to vote...because if you didn't vote, you voted GOP by default...and I hope you burn in hell.

Slowed down...

Busy day prepping for Boston Book Fair and Toronto and beginning of China in Print, not to mention a couple of last-minute shipping jobs, so not much writing done. Just 750 words. Doesn't help that I don't feel good...and I can't figure out if it's something I ate or just a flareup of trouble I've had off and on since I got a nasty case of e-coli when driving through New Mexico. Old age sucks.

Tomorrow's election day and I'm voting straight Blue, and hope it will actually make a difference, this time.

I know what he's saying and understand it, but still you can't do nothing. So I've sent hand-written letters to people asking them to vote. And screamed about it on Twitter and Facebook. My hope is Congress is taken back by the Democrats, but too many of them seem too willing to let victory slip through their fingers rather than actually stand for something. The few that are seem caught in states or districts where they're fighting an uphill battle against truly vile incumbents. So I'll vote and hope...and try to keep my expectations low...

God DAMN Republicans.

Nearly 8900 words and a change...

This was a good day because I put more of not only Adam's but Dair's backstory in without having him do it, himself. Dair's sister-in-law, Caroline, is nice to his face but undermines him in every way she can. When he has friends up from Seattle for his first birthday home after 2 years in Europe and she finds out some of them have children, she anonymously calls Child Protective Services on them.

What's fun is how Adam takes over and pretends he knows the CPS Crew and invited them to the party, and Marion (Dair's mother) goes along. By the end of the party, they're singing Happy Birthday to Dair and having cake and champagne.

That leads to Adam revealing more of his own history, because Caroline also suggests to visitors that they shouldn't let their sons take skiing lessons from Adam, that it would be better if her female instructor taught them...just to be sure. That backfires on her because, to my surprise, Adam's open to accepting money for sex...and he gets a number of closet-case husbands hiring him. Of course, that stops when he and Dair get together, but it's an interesting aspect to him that I wasn't expecting.

Adam's not going to be an easy character. At first, he sees Dair as a guy to get money out of...and then as a meal ticket. He's like a feral cat that's perfectly happy to let you toss it a piece of tuna but if you try to pet it...watch out. So part of the story will be showing how Dair inadvertently tames him. Makes him happy and domesticated. My hope is this will add to the tragedy of his early death.

Something that's happened, however, is it's changed how I see Adam. I didn't really like my earlier sketch; it wasn't alive...wasn't right...felt stiff...so I did this one up and it works a lot better for me. Finishing it helped me learn more about Adam's life. When he was kicked out of his home. How he survived on the streets of Montreal. Why he wound up in Vancouver. The way he began working for Marion, in Washington State. Everything.

I love it when this happens...when the story takes a shift and leads me places I'd never thought of. I especially like opening the story with him being a loving, caring man so in love with Dair, he sings him awake. But the layers peel back and we see him as human and not a romantic caricature.

I wonder where we'll go next?

Closing in on 7000 words for DW

I'm slamming through to get this shifted into narrative format from screenplay, and along the line finding aspects of the story I had neglected. For example, I make minimal reference to Dair's brother, Gareth, who also owns a ski lodge. His wife's born-again and hates having Dair anywhere near her. That's all I do with them in the script, but that's ludicrously simplistic. So I'm digging in deeper to them.

I remembered I based her on the wife of a cousin of mine in Pennsylvania, and how she'd glared at me with barely controlled anger when I entered their home. She'd just found out I was gay and she wouldn't say a word...just glared. I was still shaken up by the family's attitude about me, so I only backed away and damn near called a cab to take me to the airport, right then. I had a feeling things weren't going to wind up well...and sure enough, that side of the family cut off contact with me. All but one female cousin, and she killed herself a few years later, leaving a son to their tender mercies.

I didn't see most of them again for 25 years, and then only because my aunt invited them over to her place when I'd gone down to visit her, after my mother died. I'd asked her if I could just see her...I had things to give her...and wound up not doing so. They all talked like nothing had happened, and I was able to spend a whole 10 minutes alone with my aunt. Haven't seen them since.

I visited her twice more, when she was dying, and managed to miss all but one cousin's husband. He's the one who let slip the boy left behind had died, a year earlier, and refused to tell me what happened or where is body was or anything. I still don't know.

I'm working some of this into DW now. It's reality, still, for too damn many people in this world. I've given Gareth and his wife 3 daughters, so it's not a fear of Dair molesting their children that gives them an excuse to cut him off. And I'm going to have Adam tell about that, not Dair...to anyone.

I'm also digging deeper into Adam's past. I made a couple of references to his parents disowning him and his brother not being nice, but I can go whole hog, now. Find out why he left home...if he was kicked out or ran away. How he survived, in either event. Make him harder. Edgier. More in need of love...which means he'd appreciate getting it from Dair and Marion even more.

I should never have been writing screenplays; I don't know how to fill one with background like this...

3700+ words...

Off to a good start on Dair's Window. I have over 2000 words for the opening and 1700 in a bit just after Adam learns he's been disowned by his family. Here's the first push through on it...rough but still...

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Dair held me as I wept. No. No...I cried as a baby cries. Knowing something is wrong and not able to understand and giving in fully to his emotions in a way that is completely out of his control. My body shook with sobs and I let him keep his arms around me. I let him see me weak and broken. And still he held me. My losses and pains and desolation poured onto his shirt and molded it to him. My breath grew harsh and difficult to grasp. My head began to scream from pain and my heart throbbed as if I had run a hundred miles. And when I finally took back control, still he held me. Still he caressed my back, with nothing more than tenderness. Still he leaned his head against mine to give me support.

When finally I pulled away, I was no longer beautiful, but flush and swollen and scoured by my loss, but still he held my face and looked at me with kindness. And he said nothing.

He guided me to my feet and led me into the bathroom. Into the shower I had rebuilt. A hundred colors of clear and opaque tiles supported by soft gray grout. Glass doors folding open to let us enter. He undressed me there. Slowly, like one does a child. And I let him. His own shirt and pants, he shrugged them off and let them stay on the floor of the shower. His briefs he did not remove, nor mine, his quiet way of letting me know that was not the intention of this moment. He turned on the hot with a bit of cold mingled in and held me, face to face, letting the water pound on my neck and shoulders and the steam fill my soul with life and wonder. Nothing...nothing...nothing had ever felt so perfect.

He dried me as I dried him, both slow and gentle, but as I began to dress he stopped me and gave to me a pair of his jeans. His waist was a bit larger than mine, and the jeans would bunch around his ankles, but on me they looked casual and had only the slightest break at the hem. He gave me his favorite shirt, black and warm and just the right size for me, so long as I wore nothing under it. He gave me socks and, once I was dressed, put on me his parka.

Then he dressed himself in my work pants, undershirt, pullover sweater and camo-jacket. They fit him tight...but to my surprise, they also fit him well. Then we walked through the brisk evening air, hand in hand, stopping to watch the melting snow fill the stream that followed the winding road. The moon danced from cloud to cloud and stars cast adoring winks at us as we passed the road leading to the new housing. Across the main drag and up the drive to Marion’s lodge, then inside and past those dining in the restaurant or lounging by the fire straight into her office.

Marion was at her desk, writing. She looked up at seeing us and a soft frown crossed her face.

Dair brushed his fingers against mine and asked, “May I share this?”

I gave him a slight shrug.

He turned to Marion and said, “Adam received a letter. From a place he used to call home.”

She leaned back and saw my pants on him and his shirt on me and how he would look at her, unmoving, and how I could not focus my eyes on anything for more than a second, and she rose and came to me and straightened my collar and buttoned one more button on the shirt and smoothed my eyebrows and chuckled and said, “Y’know, if Gareth were here, I’d be able to say something silly like, Here’s my three sons.”

I looked at her, then, and her eyes were dancing. She held me close, like a mother should hold her child, and I hugged her and felt Dair’s hand caress the back of my neck and for the first time in my life I knew peace.

NaNoWriMo begins...

Here we go -- I'm going to do what I can to change DW from a script to my latest book...and it's already proving interesting. All the bouncing around I've been doing on it should make for a read that's at least fun to follow if not necessarily coherent. I've posted over 2000 words and will push to get it done ASAP. I'll also be pushing to get UG set and then comes pushing to get a first draft of APoS...yeah, not expecting much from me...

I've gone back through the outline for DW and added in beats I want the book to reveal. And I will be bouncing back and forth between Adam telling the story from the grave, and it being told in third person omniscient. I'm opening the story with Adam talking about their last day together and how they met, ending the chapter with him revealing he's dead.

Then shifting to Dair in current day prepping to marry Wallace, all in third person with memories flitting into his consciousness. Not sure how this is going to work through the whole book; it may wind up being an exercise in stupidity and confusion...but one has to try.

I thought about watching A Single Man to see if there are any similarities that need to be watched out for, but what I read about it indicates not. That movie's about a man preparing to kill himself after his lover's heath...and is set at a time when being gay was considered a mental illness. My setting's current day, except for the moments with Adam, and there ain't no suicide anywhere near it. I'm even putting in having Marion ask Dair if he's planning to do something stupid, at the end, and have him say, "I'll be damned if I wind up another sad dead faggot for those assholes."

He got attitude, Dair does, when confronted; it's when he's left alone that he's got issues.