Tuesday, October 23, 2012

And...we're back!

Editing

I said it would be a pretty short case of bloggus interruptus, did I not?

Anyway, I finished up my edits on the second draft of Princesses In SPACE!!! (not the actual title) last night, and I have already sent the draft out to most of the beta readers. Now begins the waiting for the feedback...which has me a bit on the nervous side, I must admit. I've never done the 'beta reader' thing; I've always just trusted my own instincts in editing the works and gone with them when I felt I was done. For this project, though, I'm going all-in with beta readers. Why?

Well, one reason is simple enough: I'm still an unpublished duffer, for all intents and purposes, so I'm hoping that there's some bit of process I can change that will increase my likelihood of producing a book that someone wants to publish. Perhaps the input of beta-readers, who might identify issues with the narrative or the characters to which I'm blind because I'm too close to the project, will help do the trick.

Another reason is also simple enough: even if this book, too, ends up as nothing more than a space-taker on my hard drive, I'd still like it to be read by someone. Sometimes I think there's a bit of romance in the idea of a writer who is long satisfied by just keeping a pile of completed works in the desk drawer, but there's more romance in having books on the shelves. There's also more money in it. Maybe not much, but more.

My main problem now is...what next! I'm leaning heavily toward actually participating in NaNoWriMo this year, because the timing has worked out perfectly: My decks are clear, project-wise, as November looms. And there's an idea that I've been kicking around a while (and even made a couple of false starts upon) that strikes me as perfect for the length of work intended by NaNoWriMo. The problem there is...November's still a week away, and I don't want to write nothing between now and then. So...who knows. I haven't done much short fiction in a long time, and right now I'm actually kind of devoid of short-fiction ideas. Who knows, indeed!

There's always The Adventures of Lighthouse Boy, but I think I'm going to put that one on the back burner for a while longer. I reached a point where I wasn't entirely sure of where the story was going, and I needed to focus on editing Princesses anyway. Lighthouse Boy would be an even longer book, most likely, than Princesses, so it would be spectacularly ill-suited to NaNoWriMo, and in any event, I'm thinking it might be wise to hold off any new long-form projects until some feedback on Princesses comes through. Just in case the unanimous opinion of the beta readers is along the lines of "Yeah, dude, we love you and all, but you gotta rewrite this thing from the ground up." So Lighthouse Boy will remain kicking around the back of my head probably at least until some time in December.

And then, there's the sequel to Princesses, tentatively not-actually-titled Princesses Still In SPACE!!!. When I finished the first draft, I had zero idea as to what would transpire in the second book. (Yes, I've envisioned this is a series, with as many as nine books, if The Gods are with me.) Wouldn't you know it...the story for Princesses II started displaying its rough shape to me over the last week or so. At least I have that going for me, which is nice.

So that's where things stand, writing-wise. As ever, onward and upward! Zap! Pow!!

Monday, October 22, 2012

Bad news, good news

Hey folks! First, the bad news: I'm going offline until I finish applying edits to Princesses In SPACE!!! (not the actual title), thus finishing the second draft.

The good news: all that's left is the final two chapters and the epilogue, so there's a good sporting chance I have it done tonight anyway. Huzzah!


Sunday, October 21, 2012

Saturday Centus (Sunday edition)

Most of yesterday was taken up by the various festivities and comings-and-goings related to going to see a friend of mine get married (Huzzah!), so I'm a day late with this week's prompt. This time it's a photo prompt:


I'm sorry, Mr. Sauron, but there's no eyedrop that will help you with that.

That's all I got, folks!

Sunday Burst of Weird and Awesome!

Yup, time to return to this once-regular feature. Huzzah! Oddities and Awesome abound....

:: Prison slang. Hopefully I never have to learn this stuff firsthand, unless I'm writing a story set in a prison....

:: An artist superimposed some photos from World War II France onto up-to-date photos of the same locations. The results are pretty haunting.

:: I find this interesting, only because for almost as long as I can recall, this blog has received a few search engine hits every single week from people wondering if former Pittsburgh Pirates owner Kevin McClatchy is gay. Apparently he's come out, so maybe that source of traffic here will dry up a bit?

More next week (maybe)!

Friday, October 19, 2012

Film Quote Friday

Been a while since I did one of these, huh? So much for 'regular features'. Par for the course around here, though. I may one day relaunch this blog as a series of regular features, with one post each before completely disappearing.

Anyway, election season has me thinking about The West Wing. One thing that bugged me about the show during its run was that Aaron Sorkin wasn't always very good at tying things together over the long haul of a teevee series, which led to things like the character Mandy (who was totally annoying) utterly disappearing between seasons one and two, despite the fact that season two begins literally at the exact same time that season one ended. But there were times when Sorkin did some really cool things, such as this.

One of the backdrops of the series -- which was, to my mind, underutilized -- was the fact that President Bartlet and Vice President Hoynes did not have a good working relationship. Their union was born of political necessity, after Bartlet surprised the political world by beating front-runner Hoynes for the nomination; after that, there was always friction between the two men. This scene happens in an early episode in Season One, called "Enemies":

HOYNES
What did I ever do to you? Where, in our past, what did I do to make you treat me this way?

BARTLET
John...

HOYNES
What did I ever do to you except deliver the South?

BARTLET
Really?

HOYNES
Yes.

BARTLET
You shouldn’t have made me beg, John. I was asking you to be Vice President.

HOYNES
Due respect, Mr. President, you have just kicked my ass in a primary. I’m fifteen years younger than you. I have my career to think of.

BARTLET
Then don’t stand there and ask the question, John. It weakened me right out of the gate. You shouldn’t have made me beg.

A brief silence fills the room.

HOYNES
I’m glad C.J. straightened things out with Danny.

BARTLET
Yeah.

HOYNES
Good night, Mr. President.

BARTLET
Good night, John.

That's interesting stuff. The implication here is that Bartlet asked Hoynes to run on the ticket, and Hoynes made Bartlet wait and stew and ask again -- made him beg -- for Hoynes to be Vice President.

But later on, in Season Three, when Aaron Sorkin was in the midst of the big "Bartlet reveals he has MS" storyline, there's a flashback in the episode "Bartlet for America" to the very night Bartlet asked Hoynes to join the ticket. We'd been lead to believe earlier that Hoynes's reticence had actually been a little bit of a tantrum, but this casts quite a different light on things:

LEO
John?

Hoynes looks over at Leo, then walks into the suite and shakes Leo's hand.

HOYNES
Leo.

Leo quietly closes the door and watches as Hoynes greets Abbey, who has banished the tension
from her face. They embrace formally. He kisses her on the cheek.

HOYNES
Hello, Abbey.

ABBEY
Hello, John.

BARTLET
[smiles] Senator.

Bartlet and Hoynes shake hands.

HOYNES
Good evening.

BARTLET
I'd like you to be the Vice-President.

Hoynes' expression goes from amiable smile to shock. He and Bartlet stare at each other silently for a few moments.

BARTLET
Why don't you sit with Abbey and me for a few minutes. [turns to aides] Can I have the room, please?

As the staff quickly take their leave, Bartlet walks over to a table on the other side of the suite. He pours himself another cup of coffee.

BARTLET
[to Hoynes] You want anything? Coffee or anything?

Hoynes, his hands in his pockets, walks slowly toward Bartlet.

HOYNES
Ah... no.

On yet another TV, this one in a corner, crowds on the convention floor can be heard chanting "Bartlet! Bartlet!" Hoynes glances over at the TV. Abbey finally joins them but stands a bit off to one side. Again, she looks a bit nervous and distracted as she fidgets with her wedding ring and watches the two men talk.

BARTLET
You ran a good campaign. [pause] You're a young man. You'll be back.

HOYNES
[nods] Thank you.

Bartlet finishes getting his coffee and walks back over to the sofas. Hoynes and Abbey join him as the last of the aides leaves and the door to the hall finally closes. Bartlet and Hoynes sit down across from each other. Abbey remains standing off to one side.

BARTLET
There's something you need to know. It's why I asked everyone to leave the room.
[short pause] A few years ago, I was diagnosed with a relapsing remitting course of MS.

HOYNES
[confused] I'm sorry?

BARTLET
Multiple sclerosis.

Hoynes, stunned, glances over at Abbey with a vaguely accusatory expression on his face. Bartlet looks over at her, too. She meets Hoynes' gaze. She reveals very little, says nothing, but her expression is grave.

HOYNES
[to Bartlet] Did you just tell me that you have MS?

BARTLET
Yeah.

HOYNES
Which you never mentioned during the campaign.

Bartlet shakes his head. Hoynes raises an eyebrow and sighs heavily.

BARTLET
I told you because it's something you're gonna need to know. But also because I wanted to show that I trust you.

HOYNES
[slight edge to his voice] Oh, you do?

BARTLET
[unfazed] Yeah.

HOYNES
[leans forward] That's supposed to be me accepting the nomination Thursday night. But I suppose your trusting me is consolation prize enough.

BARTLET
[doesn't flinch, pauses] Well, what do you say?

Hoynes shrugs his shoulders, sighs, and stands up.

HOYNES
I'd like to think about it... for a few...

BARTLET
[stands] I'd like your answer now, John.

They stare at each other for several long moments, the tension rising.

HOYNES
You'll have it when I give it, Jed.

That's very interesting to me. It shows that Hoynes's reasons for not being eager to join the ticket isn't entirely, as Sorkin would put in another episode referring to something else, "the natural reaction to not getting the girl". He no doubt feels that he lost unfairly, and that Bartlet in some sense cheated in winning the nomination without mentioning a fairly significant health concern. Hoynes no doubt has trouble trusting Bartlet after this, ironically in response to something Bartlet does in order to show trust in him.

That's pretty cool.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Something for Thursday

Here's Adele, singing the title song for Skyfall. What do you think? I like it a little more each time I hear it, and I liked it a lot at first. It stands in the fine tradition of sultry Bond songs, with its slow, torchsong melody sung by a big-voiced woman, and I like how it incorporates the James Bond Theme and manages to get the film's title into the lyrics (in typically not-entirely-making-sense Bond song fashion).


Opine, folks!

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Technology marches on

Roger wrote a post the other day about technology stuff, in which he name-checked me:

I don’t know what kind of typist Jaquandor is, but I’m sure that he is appreciating editing the text of his book or two, including Princesses In SPACE!!! (not the actual title), on a word processor, rather than retyping every draft.

In his post, he is addressing the question of what technology he finds the most indispensable, and which he wishes would go away for good. Those are interesting questions, but his citing of me as an example of what's cool about the development of the word processor is interesting to me.

First of all, there's an implied question there: Just how good a typist am I, anyway? I've once in a while done an online typing test, just out of curiosity, but I haven't done one in a long time, so let's find out. When I Google 'typing test', I find that there's a site called TypingTest.com. Isn't that helpful! So wait here while I go there and test myself. I'm choosing the following test options: English, 1 minute, and The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. OK? So hold on a minute....

[hum theme to Simon and Simon to yourself]

OK, we're back. I was able to type 71 words in the one minute, and that's with backspacing and correcting my errors as I went. I have never been a 'fix the spelling later' person, and I can almost always tell when I've mistyped something as I'm going -- it's like my fingers send a signal to my brain saying, "Whoa there, back up, we made a bit of a cock-up there." So, I suppose that means I'm a passably-decent typist. Of course, I've known this for years; I have had many a person at various jobs marvel at how quickly I can dance my fingers across the keyboard. Yay, me!

Oddly, though, I am not an 'official' touch-typist, in that I never once took a keyboarding class in school of any kind. I have never been taught the business where you put your index fingers on the F and the J and use all four primary fingers to do the typing. In fact, now that I'm paying attention, I don't think that either of my pinkies ever once touch the keys of any keyboard I use; instead, both just kind of 'dangle' up there in space, not doing much of anything. Frankly, I've never understood the utility of the 'official' method of typing or why it was taught in school, and I'm fairly certain that were I to try to force myself to learn it now, it would screw me up something awful. Kind of like how, in second grade, I ended up in a school that taught penmanship in a different manner than my first grade school had, and in my efforts to adapt, my handwriting turned to complete drivel for quite some time. (In first grade, we'd learned italics. In second, I was in a 'balls-and-sticks' school. That sucked for a while, until cursive came along and I was suddenly using a lot of what I'd already learned in first grade with the italics! Hmmmmm....)

Typing fast is a useful skill, but I struggled with it in my fiction writing for years, because I always had a terrific problem with my fingers being able to type faster than my brain could produce sentences to type. This tended to result in some spectacularly awkward prose when I would type my rough drafts, and I must admit that I'm still seeing evidence of that now, as I work my way through Princesses In SPACE!!! (not the actual title), which is the first book-length manuscript I have typed in its entirety.

So, how did I learn to type so fast? By, well, typing a lot. Lots and lots, over the years. A whole lot of typing. Not just in the course of writing something like Princesses In SPACE!!! (not the actual title), but in writing e-mails. Writing stuff for work in various jobs. Playing text-based computer adventure games. Writing lots of papers for the many writing-intensive courses I took in college. Writing research papers in high school. And, going back even farther, to typing on a typewriter.

We had two typewriters, if I remember correctly. One was an electric typewriter that I wasn't really allowed to use; the other was a mechanical device in a shade of green that I would later see on our first Volkswagen Rabbit, and never again since. I got curious, so I Googled the words 'green typewriter', just to see if I could find out what that old typewriter was, and I believe I've found it:


I have zero recollection of the make and model of that green old warhorse of a typewriter, but this really looks like the one. I'd bang away on that thing for long whacks of time. I loved typing on that thing, even when I screwed up and had to deal with it by backing over my mistake and covering it with X's. I loved the mechanical way it worked: you strike a key and one lever moves another lever which in turn causes an arm with a metal striker in the shape of whatever letter you wanted to swing up and smack the ribbon against the surface of the paper, causing an ink transfer in the shape of the letter you wanted. How cool was that! But, if you got typing too fast, you might hit two keys at once, and then both arms would swing up and try to strike the ribbon at the same time. This resulted in a jam.

I loved the bell that warned you that you were nearing the right-hand margin, and I loved that metal arm that you stuck up from the back of the machine to prop up your workpiece. There was just something awfully pleasing about the constant CLACK CLACK CLACKITY CLACK of that typewriter. I would use a number of electric typewriters after that, in various jobs and schools, but no electric typewriter -- which used signals from the keys to make a motor strike a globe with the letters on it strike the ribbon -- ever had that same physical appeal.

The typewriter had the same basic idea going on as the piano, and with that as your model, I suppose one could paraphrase the old joke about piano playing: Writing a good story with a typewriter is really very easy. You just have to hit the keys in the right order. I had a music professor in college tell me that playing the piano was terribly easy, as all you had to do was strike the keys in the right order, and the piano made the music for you. Heh.

What kind of things did I type? Well, I remember for a while I glommed onto the notion of Star Wars fan fiction, so I had some proto-adventures of Han Solo. At this time I was watching a lot of Star Trek, so I had Han commanding a starship with Chewbacca as his science officer. No, I do not have any copies of this stuff. Earlier than that, I recall a fascination with the Declaration of Independence, so I typed it out, drawing the text from an Information Please! almanac I owned. Why the Declaration? Who knows. And I didn't really understand the thing. Original fiction? There was some of that, too. I recall chronicling the adventures of a superhero cat named Little Bootie, who flew around in a suit with a big letter K on the front of it. Why was he named Little Bootie? Hell if I know. Why the letter K on his super suit, which had nothing to do with him? Hell if I know. No, I don't have any copies of those, either. In truth, I don't think I've thought about Little Bootie since second grade, until Roger's post set me to remembering.

So, yeah. Thanks for that, Rog!

I guess the question now would be, do I miss that old green typewriter? In all honesty, I do not. Being able to cut and paste, to move blocks of text around easily, and to be able to quickly search the text when looking up little details -- these are all benefits that are too great for me to want to go back to the clackity-clacking. In editing Princesses, I decided to change one character's name to something completely different; a decent word processor makes this change take all of five seconds. (Hell, even a crappy word processor makes this change quickly.) If I ever saw one of those old green typewriters someplace for sale, maybe at the Antique Mall, I might well buy it, especially if the price is right, just as a display piece. But I would never go back to it as a primary writing tool.

And what is my current primary writing tool? Here it is:

The current writing instrument

I just got this machine a month or so ago. It's a Dell Inspiron, running Windows 7. My first laptop was still chugging along, but it was getting ever slower and slower, and showing every bit of its five years of age. For writing, it was a perfectly adequate machine, but web-browsing was getting harder and harder, and it just wasn't multi-tasking the way it used to. I'd been planning to get a new laptop this year anyway (and from what I've heard, I just don't want any part of Windows 8 until I literally have zero choice). So there it is. This machine isn't going to win any techno prizes, but it works perfectly well for what I need a computer to do: I can write, surf the web, watch movies and such, and listen to music. Aside from Words With Friends (and now Draw Something, which I play on my tablet, anyway), I'm not a gamer, so I don't need super-duper graphics or whatnot.

About the only drawback to this particular computer over my last one is the touchpad. I like touchpads, but this one is larger than the last one, and its shifted slightly to the right. In practice, this means that it falls directly beneath the ball of my thumb on my right hand as I type, which can result in me inadvertently moving my cursor to someplace else, as I'm typing. I've solved this by using the wireless mouse I've owned since I bought the last laptop, so that's an easy fix. (Oh, and the touchpad doesn't seem to scroll at all, which I found odd.)

By way of writing software, I'm a faithful user of OpenOffice (because it's free, not because I have some desire to stick it to Microsoft), and an occasional user of Google Docs. I have Google Drive set up on my computer, and I make a number of regular backups to external drives. I've never even looked at this Scrivener thing I've heard tell about. Not sure I want to, either.

I do get a bit nervous when I read articles in tech publications touting the impending death of the PC and the rise of the tablet and smartphone as 'gizmos that do it all' for the future. Try as I might, I can't get used to typing on my tablet's touchscreen. Yes, I only have a seven-inch tablet, but I don't want anything bigger, and the complete lack of tactile feedback is deeply off-putting, as is the fact that the touch-keyboard's size makes using both of my hands the way I want to impractical, which in turn means that my tactile ability to trap typos as they happen is severely compromised. Sure, I could get a USB keyboard, I suppose, but then...why not just use a more powerful laptop? No, I think that I will be giving up on laptops only at the bitterest of bitter ends. That is the ground on which I shall make my stand.

Until, that is, they make a gizmo that can plug into my brain and transcribe the stories as I think them. As Keanu says: Whoa....

Monday, October 15, 2012

Joining the Instacrowd

Yup, everybody loves to complain about Instagram, the photo app that has turned everyone with a camera phone into a snooty nitwit who thinks that taking a quick snapshot and applying a filter makes them into photographic geniuses. Yeah, I thought that, too. But the thing is...Instagram makes taking photos and getting them onto Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, and many other places ridiculously easy. I think that's the real attraction here: not the facile photos, but just how easy it makes it to get them out there.

So yeah...I've jumped on the Instagram bandwagon.

I'm not going to be using it exclusively, because my heart of hearts still belongs to Flickr, even though it's...well, it's right out of the Web of 2006. But it's still more tailored to nicer photos, and I've got too many years invested in using it to just stop. Flickr isn't as easy to use as Instagram, but so what? It's not like it was ever hard to use. Viva la Flickr, says I! But also, given my 7-inch Samsung Galaxy tablet, I just can't turn down Instagram.

Below the fold are some of my first efforts using Instagram.


Sunday, October 14, 2012

Hey Mack! MOVE that thing outta here!

I can't get enough of this stuff: driving a space shuttle through the streets of Los Angeles.

Space Shuttle Endeavour Move (201210120012HQ)

Space Shuttle Endeavour Move (201210120013HQ)

Expand this one to full-size -- it's fantastic:

Space Shuttle Endeavour Move (201210120014HQ)

Space Shuttle Endeavour Move (201210120015HQ)

Space Shuttle Endeavour Move (201210120016HQ)

Writing: an update


Writing, originally uploaded by Jaquandor.

I'm about halfway through applying my edits to Princesses In SPACE!!! (not the actual title), so I'm right on track to have the second draft done by the end of this month, which is the goal I had set. Yay, me!

I'm keeping track of the word count of all my edited chapters, and I'm noticing that I'm not ditching as many words as I'd hoped. I tend to go with Stephen King's formula on this type of stuff: "2nd draft = 1st draft - 10%." So far I'm losing about 5%, and I'm kind of nervous about the effect that a couple of late-book revisions will have, as I am adding two scenes toward the end. We'll see. This goal is helpful, but it's also largely arbitrary. We'll see. I can guarantee that the second draft will lose a lot of flabby prose. Whether it's enough, though...well, that will be a job for the beta-readers to determine!

So, onward and upward! Zap! Pow!!

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Oh, to see this on the street!

And you can bet that there was some cranky old-fart driver giving these folks the finger.

Saturday Centus

Another autumnal prompt this week.

The box in my hand was both heavier than I expected and lighter than it should have been, as I carried it across the field to that single maple tree, alone in that field, that had already dropped half its leaves. She'd always loved October, and she'd loved this tree. When I got there, I cried a while; then I poured out her ashes and walked away. The leaves crunched under my boots until they didn't.

A question: whose are the ashes, and who is scattering them?

Friday, October 12, 2012

I was always sort of hoping for a Downtown Brown spin-off

This comedy short (some salty language) just makes my inner-80s-child all happy and stuff. It's the story of a remake of...the opening credits sequence for Simon and Simon.


The second I saw that this existed, I immediately thought, "Oooooh, I can't wait until Rick crashes the backloader through the doors of the burning warehouse!"

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Something for Thursday

For obvious reasons pertaining to my reading of Stephen King's 11-22-63, I've had the John Williams score from Oliver Stone's JFK on my mind. Here are two selections: the Prelude and "Arlington".



Wednesday, October 10, 2012

A Random Wednesday Conversation Starter

Oops, forgot it was Wednesday again.

Anyway: What was your wedding song? If you had it to do over, would you use a different song? And if you were planning your wedding to take place now, what song would you use (stipulate that you must choose a different song than the one you actually used)?

Tuesday, October 09, 2012

A brief observation

There's something both refreshingly liberating and a little saddening about discovering that other people don't care about the same stuff you care about.

The Past harmonizes: 11/22/63, by Stephen King



One odd bit of Star Trek lore that I didn't know about until I read one of William Shatner's Star Trek Memories books is that, during the 1980s when the Trek movie series was in "another sequel every two years" mode, Gene Roddenberry had a pet idea that he kept trying to get Paramount to adopt for whatever the next movie happened to be. This notion had the Klingons taking over the galaxy by going back in time to Earth in 1963, and preventing President Kennedy's assassination. In order to fix things, Kirk and company have to go back as well and make sure that JFK dies like he's supposed to; according to this site, Spock himself is the shooter behind the grassy knoll. I'm not sure how that would have gone over – frankly, it sounds a bit dour and depressing. That worked in the episode "The City on the Edge of Forever", when Kirk had to stand by and allow a woman with whom he'd fallen in love to die in order to preserve history, but this story, if what Roddenberry truly had in mind, somehow crosses a line. Maybe it's by having Spock actually kill JFK. I'm glad that movie never got made.

There's always been something compelling about the JFK assassination to alternate history types and time-travel writers. I think there's a definite sense to JFK's murder as one of those singular events in history that neatly separates what came before it from what came after, and as with all such moments, there's a definite feeling that if the event could be changed, what came after would change, too – mainly for the better, I think the argument goes. Certainly the general opinion seems to hold that had JFK not died in Dallas, but gone on to reelection and a second term, the 1960s might not have been as turbulent as they turned out, with Vietnam possibly not escalating as it did, with civil rights possibly having an easier road to passage, and so on. Obviously there is no way to evaluate such beliefs, but the closest we're able to come to doing so lies in the power of fiction.

(I wonder if 9-11-01 is going to replace the JFK assassination in the public mind as the most recent 'focal point in time'. After all, the events of 11-22-1963 happened almost 50 years ago, well before the lifetimes of most Americans living today. I wonder if there will be time travel stories involving time travelers showing up at Logan Airport to prevent the boarding of Mohammad Atta and friends....)

This brings me to Stephen King's latest novel, 11-22-63. This is a time-travel story, in which a man from our time travels back with the intention of preventing the Kennedy assassination.

Jake Epping is a teacher whose marriage has just ended and who is apparently emotionally damaged in some way: he tells us up front that he simply does not cry, no matter what happens. Jake never cries, he tells us (the book is in first person, from Jake's point-of-view), and he is haunted by the various injustices of history, such as the janitor who takes his adult education course and whose term essay smacks Jake between the eyes with a first sentence that refers to when the janitor's dad 'murdirt my mother and two brothers and hurt me bad'. This haunts Jake, and it's all he can think of – even as his friend Al, who owns the local diner and who is going to die very soon of cancer, tells him of his own little secret.

In the basement of the diner is a gateway through time. Walk through it, and you emerge outside a factory in Lisbon Falls, Maine, on September 9, 1958. Walk back through, and you're back in 2011 – exactly two minutes later than when you left. And if you go back in time again, no matter how long you've waited to do so, you go back to that exact same moment on September 9, 1958 – which means that any changes you have made to the past are now reset.

This limiting of the time travel possibilities is one of the masterstrokes of King's novel. There's no 'setting a date and then hitting 88 mph', no 'slingshotting your starship around the sun'. You can only go back in time to a single place, to a single time, and you can only return to a single place, to a single time. And if you are ambitious enough – as Jake soon will be – to try and change history, if you want your changes to be permanent, you can never go back again. And if, like Jake, you decide that you're going to try and keep JFK from being killed, that means that you can go back...and then you have to spend five years living there in the past until that fateful day. November 22, 1963.

King seems less interested in the various paradoxes of time travel stories, many of which have become clichees, than he seems to be in history as a force in itself. As he makes his life in the past, Jake – now going by the alias 'George Amberson' – frequently discovers ways that the past seems to be trying to right itself even as he messes with things. "The past harmonizes", he tells us, again and again, and as the book goes on, the level of uncertainty involved in Jake's self-appointed mission grows and grows and grows. Jake has to try and figure out if Lee Harvey Oswald was part of some kind of conspiracy, or if he acted alone; he has to try and decide if he should intercede earlier or later. He takes a 'dry run' early on, interceding on his janitor friend's behalf when his father shows up to kill his family, and in such ways Jake discovers things about killing – even justified killing – that are troubling.

This is not a scary novel, but it is a haunting one. King masterfully keeps us aware of the onward march of time, so that the date of the title never really fades from memory, even as Jake is living out the five years he has to live out in the past, making a life for himself in a small town in Texas where he makes friends with local teachers and, in the ultimate complication, falls in love. Still, through all this there is a constant sense of growing doom, the constant ticking of King's time bomb growing ever more and more insistent. Will he stop Oswald? If so, how? And will it matter in the end?

The time travel aspects of the story are, initially, pretty benign in nature, and we learn that Al is using the time portal to buy ground beef at 1958 prices, which enables him to sell his burgers in his diner for significantly cheaper than anyone else can manage. Jake discovers, though, that the past has ways of resisting change, and although King never really spells out much of the mechanism behind that sort of thing, it soon becomes clear that the bigger the change one is trying to make in history, the harsher the resistance one will meet.

11/22/63 is a thrilling King page-turner, loaded with emotional resonance, King's keen eye for detail, and a bittersweet ending that is satisfying but not in an expected way. Parts of the book read as if Stephen King had written a mash-up of Back to the Future and Oliver Stone's JFK. In other parts, though, the feel is pure King – especially in one section, taking place in Derry, Maine, where events bring Jake Epping into contact with two of the kids from IT. King is best at suggesting dark forces at work that we cannot understand – or perhaps I should say, forces that we cannot understand whose goals and priorities do not align with ours. Is history something we influence, or is it a force all to its own? 11/22/63 explores that question, even if it may not have a definitive answer.

(One final note: Throughout the book, Jake notes that 'the past harmonizes' – which means, history has a way of making things even out, of settling the books. A lot of times, what we call coincidence is this 'harmonizing of the past'. Well, maybe fiction harmonizes, too; there's a point in the book that actually features a pie fight. I read that just a day or two before my own pieing last week. How's that for synchronicity!)

Saturday, October 06, 2012

Saturday Centus

On the hayride

With my somewhat relentless focus the last bunch of months on other writing matters, I've lost track of this delightful weekly bit of writing ephemera. I'm glad to see that Jenny Matlock is still keeping the fires burning, with an autumnal prompt for this week. Here is my entry:

Two trees stood together, watching the world. They'd sprouted together, grown from sapling to full maple together. When they were big enough, their leaves would brush against one another in the breeze. How they thrilled to each other's touch! And how they envied those humans who could touch each other at will.

Each year one tree said to the other, "How beautifully leaves grow old". They said a goodbye of red and orange and gold, and then they would lose each other's touch until spring.

One day their leaves won't grow at all...but not this year.

Halloween Questions!

SamuraiFrog answered these questions, so I figured I would, too...although, Halloween is the one holiday that I always think that I should get into more than I actually do. I'm not sure why that is...maybe it's because I'm too busy grooving on how happy I am that it's fall and my favorite month to really indulge my enjoyment of scary stuff. Not sure...but anyway, the questions!

(1) What's your favorite Halloween costume ever?

In all honesty, I only remember a single Halloween costume...but it was pretty awesome. My favorite superhero as a small child was Captain Marvel (SHAZAM!!!), so my mother hand-made me a Captain Marvel suit. It was amazing...and I think she might still have it stashed someplace at the Original Casa Jaquandor. I wore it in Kindergarten and in 1st grade, which was the last time I ever trick-or-treated. (In second grade I think the town we lived in discouraged the practice, in third and fourth grade I decided it was more fun to just hand out candy, and after that, we moved to a place that wasn't really in a 'neighborhood', per se.)

The Daughter has had a bunch of nifty ones, such as Swiftheart Rabbit (one of the non-bear Care Bears, and as a vampire queen, both hand-made by The Wife).

(2) What's your favorite Halloween candy (or other treat)?

I know so few people who love candy corn, and yet it's everywhere in October...and I love it! So there! And malted milk balls are great...but every year I'd forget the difference between them and Milk Duds, which are EVIL. Popcorn balls were nifty -- still are, I suppose. And Almond Joy, huzzah!

(3) Name the scariest book you've ever read?

Steven King's IT was pretty disturbing. But for giving me the heebie-jeebies as I read it, nothing's ever matched my first reading of John Bellairs's The Letter, the Witch, and the Ring. I was eleven or twelve, and there are some very creepy scenes in that book. Now, it's a Young Adult book and by today's standards it's pretty tame stuff. But I've never since read anything that had me wanting quite as bad to sleep with all the lights on.

(4) Who's the best movie vampire ever:
(a) Bela Lugosi
(b) George Hamilton
(c) Tom Cruise
(d) Robert Pattinson


I've got to agree with SamuraiFrog on this -- the fact that Pattinson is on the list (they're not even vampires, folks!) instead of Christopher Lee is pretty dispiriting. And I liked Gary Oldman, too.

(5) Who'd win in a fist fight? Sookie or Bella?

OK, this is dumb. I don't even know who Sookie is.

(6) Are you superstitious? How?

Nope.

(7) Frankenberry, Count Chocula, or Boo Berry?

Here's something you didn't know: I've never had any of these. I'm just not that into the sugary cereals. If I want a sweet cereal, I'll go for Golden Grahams every time. (I've been in the mood to revisit Honeycomb for the first time in 30 years, though, and compare notes with my memory....)

(8) Will you dress up this year? If so, as what?

Highly unlikely that I will. The Store encourages dressing up on the Saturday before Halloween, but I don't work Saturdays. Nor do I get invited to dress-up Halloween parties (and that's not a complaint!), so I don't have a whole lot of opportunities. I'll spend it like always: in overalls. (Which, funnily enough, end up being a component of a lot of costumes for others!)