Waiting + Scrivening

... and more waiting. Such is the life of a scribbler. Seems like for as long as I can remember, I have been waiting for someone to read something (the usual being editors and agents, but sometimes it's friends, or in the past, creative writing teachers).

While I wait, I try to shift my attention to other things - notably another big project. Whatever I write next (and I'm in very early planning stages), I know one thing: I'll be using Scrivener. This discovered software not only saved my bacon, but organized it, and inspired it. And who doesn't want inspired bacon?

If you have ever worked on a long manuscript, you know what a pain it is to have a dozen windows open on your desktop, a stack of cards, papers, and a binder or two open on your real desk. Not to mention the 300+ pages that you are forever searching and scrolling to find out if the hero wore a blue baseball cap, or a red one.

Well, Scrivener has one of the nicest little interfaces (N.L.I.) that I have ever seen. I took my huge clunky Word doc and chopped it up into chapters, which I could then see as an outline, or cards, or s series of folders. Reference and cut scenes went in a few other folders. I could make notes and cross-references throughout, and Scrivener even generated synopsis for each chapter. Now, these weren't the type of synopsis you could fire off to your agent - but they were excellent for giving an overview of the book in manageable chunks.

I feel like I should add that I am not affiliated with anyone that has created this software - but damn, I should send them a case of wine or something.

For my next novel, I am starting on Scrivener - that combined with a recently watched video of Douglas Glover teaching novel structure, makes me fully armed, pumped and ready to write like my hair is on fire.

In between my waiting that is.

A "new" discovery

If you have visited woofreakinhoo in the past, you have heard me wax eloquent about the mojo storyteller Joe Lansdale. Well it turns out Mr. L is getting a lot of attention for his new book Edge of Dark Water out on Mulholland Books. And the attention is very much deserved.

About a year ago, my novel Correction Line danced about as close as it gets to Mulholland Books (MB) picking it up. The biggest thrill of this, at the time, was the possibility of sharing the MB bookshelf with Lansdale. Now, MB ultimately passed on my novel, but the editor wrote one of the most glowing rejections I've ever received (forwarded to my agent, actually). Someday I might still get something in the MB list, but this post is supposed to be about Joe Lansdale.

A number of years ago, a friend read my work and said, "Hey you sort of write like Joe Lansdale." I'd never heard of him, so I picked one of his novels, Rumble Tumble, I think, and started reading. For starters, I did see the comparison - even though, he was writing about East Texas, and I was deep in Southern Saskatchewan (or some place like it). Maybe they share some similar geography, though East Texas misses out on the -40 winters.

As I plowed through the Hap and Leonard books, I came across his novel The Bottoms. I have to admit, that my initial thought was that he was all crime fiction, witty, and well written (and laugh-out-loud funny to boot) - but I didn't see a lot of literary muscle. That sounds way more disparaging that I mean - I now see streams of depth in all of Joe's work, some is more successful than others, but it is definitely there. When I read The Bottoms I was floored. Not sure how to explain it, without reverting to the joining up of past authors into some menagé-a-writers mash-up (Faulkner, O'Connor, and Harper Lee have a love child, whose Godparents are Welty and E. A. Poe... that sort of stuff)

I digress. The book is fucking brilliant.

So I yak to my reader and writer friends over the years - have you ever read Lansdale? Who? (Right.) Though, I did find pockets. On entering a local mystery bookstore for the first time, my query was met with, "Are you kidding? He's the best out there."

At least when Bubba Ho-tep came out, my indie movie loving friends got what I've been talking about. And after reading this piece in the NYT, I wonder if his name will come up when Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter hits the screens.

I am really glad that Joe R. is getting great press and reviews on his latest - and I hate to use the tired old, you know, I knew this band when they were just on the way up (um.... Wilco, anyone?) - but yeah, I've been reading Lansdale for years. And if more of you start finally reading him, and his bank balance goes up, well it's about damn time.

Chip Kidd

Merging my passions in this post - as well as writing and illustrating, I am a graphic designer (I even teach the stuff).

I try to get my students excited about the history of design, and notably the rogue's gallery of famous designers. I think a lot of designers would agree that Chip Kidd changed book design. Authors such as John Updike had as part of their contract that Kidd would design their covers.

Turns out Kidd is a pretty decent writer as well - The Cheese Monkeys is a romp (did I just say romp? Yes, I did.) And it out Mads Mad Men.

Rather than trying to spin more Kidd-esque witticism's, just watch him in this Ted talk, on what makes great book design.

P.S. Kidd, design my novel please. You can use ink and everything.

Slick + Nixon

 

 As I bounce around the net looking for Nixon stories, I am not sure which one I find more strangely amusing - the publication of his love letters to his wife (um, why?), or Grace Slick of Jefferson Airplane trying to slip him some LSD at a tea party at the White House.

The second story reminds me of what I asked when Colbert went to the White House Correspondents Dinner - um, who invited this guy?

Grace always comes off as kind of trippy, and to be honest, not all that bright in interviews. Some bloggers have thought about what might have happened if Tricky Dick would have taken a trip - might have given him a whole other view on Vietnam. Or really released his poetic side. Would we be enjoying the collected love poems of Richard Milhouse (a much more poetic name)?

More likely Slick would have ended up in the hoosegow, and the story would have been buried. In that era they were, somewhat, adept at hiding stuff. My guess is Liddy probably had taken his share of acid.

Cleaning House

As you can see if you have visited woofreakinhoo before, things are changing, getting swept up, and under some virtual rugs (or even some real ones).

Thought, I'd give the blog a bit of a makeover, and since I am a lover of white space, strong colours, and of course, Helvetica, well... you see the results.

The links are up top now, and they have been reduced.

Bounce over to Terlson Art for my illustration website.

Or read some short fiction at Terlson Fiction

The shouts page is in development.

Welcome here, or welcome back. Have a seat.