Monday, July 18, 2011

What Man Hath Wrought

"When you ask what man hath wrought
Don't rest your gaze on me."  
"Who Will Comfort Me" by Connie Dover


We went on vacation two weeks ago, to Silver City, New Mexico. Silver City is at the edge of the Gila National Forest, site of one of this summer's destructive wildfires, determined to be human-caused. The Miller Fire, which broke out in March, burned 88,000+ acres of forest. It was started by an unattended campfire, which the camper(s) made no attempt to put out. Part of the trail to the Gila Cliff Dwellings, one of the goals of our vacation, were still closed as a result nearly four months later, and we got an up-close look at the result. The smell of burned trees followed us all the way up and back, and the haunting lines from Connie Dover's song quoted above cycled through my mind throughout the visit.

When we reached the dwellings themselves, built nearly 700 years ago by the Mogollon people with only crude hand tools, the ranger explained that the ceilings inside the caves are blackened because some 200 years ago, someone burned them out, destroying most of the wooden supports and ceilings.

There was a theme to this excursion for me, and it had nothing to do with the amazing craftsmen who created these apartments.


The friendly rangers in the Gila Cliff Dwellings Visitor's Center encouraged me to try out their Native American flutes, in spite of my protest that I already had one. Of course, it's not the same quality, nor the same range, so I gave a couple of theirs a try. The walnut one whispered that it wanted to go home with me. I said I shouldn't. The friendly rangers offered to mail me one later, although they'd rather I took it home now. I returned the flute and headed for the trail to the Cliff Dwellings. As previously mentioned, Connie Dover's song followed me just as the smell of burned forest did. When we returned to the Visitor's Center, I tried the walnut flute again, and sure enough, it plays "Who Will Comfort Me" in a properly haunting voice. Needless to say, it came home with me. However, it still carries traces of the odor of burning forest ....

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Who's in Charge Here?

Today I mopped floors. This is one of my least-favorite activities, right up there with root canals and tax forms. But at least while the water swirled around the tile, my brain was free to swirl around as well. I found myself thinking about writing, which I needed to be doing (but not as much as I needed to scrub the floors <ugh>). A recent discussion on a writers' list addressed the old battle of "literary" versus "genre" fiction. I write genre fiction. I write to entertain. My novel, TIMEWARP, for example, is pure escapism, right? I mean, it involves time travel. How serious can that be? It's an entertaining romp into history, something that could never really happen. Which is why, when a very real and very serious social issue, bigotry and hate crimes, suddenly reared its ugly head in the middle of my manuscript, I tried to banish it back where it came from. There's nothing entertaining or escapist about the subject. After all, I was writing this book, wasn't I? I could just take a U-turn and head in another direction, right? I spent an anguished day or two trying to make the specter go away, to get back to that fun romp I'd been writing. But I realized that it belonged to the place and time, and the people who populated my fictional world. This was, after all, a mystery, a crime story, and this was the crime that fit. As much as I wanted it to just go away and let me have fun, it had to stay.

That's when I told my husband, "If I ever get TIMEWARP published, we'll have to move." It happened the other way around--we moved long before I decided to release the book. Now, of course, I have another dilemma. I'd love to launch this story in the place of its birth, complete with a party, catered with appropriate goodies and attended by the people who, perhaps unwittingly, helped me write it. But would they celebrate a book that might make people stop and think about their attitudes, or those of their ancestors? Or would they be offended by it all?  Would they rather I had kept romping along in a lighter vein, allowing them to escape into a happy place, or left the story safely tucked away on my hard drive?

Maybe one of these days I'll develop the courage to ask them ....

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Time Travel and NaNoWriMo

I've been fascinated by the concept of time travel most of my life. I'm sure some version of H.G. Wells' "The Time Machine" started it, and of course Dr. Who just added to the intrigue. History was one of my best subjects in school, and my mother-in-law once said that my husband and I were born in the wrong century, meaning a hundred years too late. The fact that, at the time, we drew our water from a shallow well with a hand pump and were building a room in which to use the wood-burning cook stove we'd just acquired probably contributed to this notion. We agreed whole-heartedly.

I've been writing seriously since 1996, and have published several short stories. In 2004, I saw a mention of NaNoWriMo on a writer's list. NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) http://www.nanowrimo.org/ is an opportunity to write 50,000 words in 30 days. I say "opportunity" because getting those 50,000 words down is a necessary beginning to writing a novel. Too many people say, "I'd love to write, if I could just find the time." I'd heard of it, vaguely, in the past, but had never looked into it, mostly because November tends to be a very busy time for me. But that year, my usual obligations had somehow not materialized, with the exception of Thanksgiving dinner. I decided to take the plunge. I informed my family I was going to do this, and they were wonderfully supportive. Now, what to write? The "rules" say you are not to have any of the story written down when November begins, which was not a problem for me, as I never write from an outline. I tried it once, and lost all interest in the plot before the outline was finished. I'd had the idea for years, sparked by a comment from a weaver friend of mine, of a character living in an old house who goes downstairs to discover time has moved backwards and it's 100 years earlier.

The opportunity to travel backwards and "live" in 1904 was irresistible. In order to simplify the research, I decided to put my character in my grandmother's house, in a small Kansas town, which was built around 1900. I also decided that setting the story in a town similar to the small Nebraska town I lived in at the time would simplify the research--there was a museum and an active Historical Society to draw from. I wanted my protagonist, Kate Edwards, to be a weaver, so I made her a Textile Historian, recently moved to Nebraska from Virginia. She would know something about earlier historical periods and have useful skills. Except that, by 1904, looms and spinning wheels had been chopped into firewood or consigned to barns for many years, and a historian from Virginia would be more likely to deal with a much earlier timeline. My favorite advice for writing fiction is: Give your character a problem. Then make it worse.

I calculated the daily output required to meet the challenge: 1,667 words a day would put me just over the 50,000 words in 30 days. With that goal in mind, I carried my laptop into the small spare bedroom and required myself to leave the mouse, the Internet cable and the power cord disconnected. I would not play solitaire, because it's too awkward to do with a touch pad, I would not get sucked into surfing the web, and I would only have the life of the battery before I ran out of power, which was something like an hour and a half, if I recall correctly.

Each day's writing became a chapter, which I sent to my critique partner to read and comment on. Nothing in-depth, just an eye on the plot to make sure it didn't wander too far afield. I saved most of her comments for the rewrite, although she did catch a couple things that required immediate revision. After about a week, I found my pace and was able to complete the day's word limit while allowing time for necessary research. I heard a historical mystery author say once that there are two ways to do research: 1. learn everything you can about a historical period, immerse yourself in it, and then write a story that fits, and 2. do the research you need to do in order to tell the story you have planned. In this case, time constraints led me to use the second approach.

In addition to old newspapers on microfilm at the museum and local historical references at the library, I dug out my trusty 1902 Sears, Roebuck and Co. catalog for everyday items. I bought a set of Life Magazine history books (missing one volume, but not the relevant one) at a library book sale. I did some online research, but only accepted things I found in more than one reference. I also took advantage of an opportunity to talk to some people who had lived in the area all their lives, and had stories to tell from their parents.

Since I write without an outline, I began not knowing who the villains or the victims were, or even the nature of the crime. Several chapters in, I realized what the crime had to be, given the time, the location and the characters I had come to know.  Everything fell into place at that point. I made notes of revisions that would be needed to bring it all together, and forged ahead. I ended the month of November with more than the required 50,000 words to win the NaNoWriMo Challenge.

December is an even busier month than November at my house, so I took a necessary break, and then in January I went back to my novel, ready to finish it. I completed and revised the manuscript over the next few months, and started submitting it to agents and editors. That's when I learned that, according to publishing wisdom, any story that deals with time travel is either science fiction (this definitely isn't) or it's romance (ditto). I did briefly consider revising the story to fit one genre or the other, but I was happy with the story as it was and didn't want to make the kinds of changes that would entail. So I let it sit on my hard drive, until I started reading about the success of electonically published books. Rather than leave Kate and her friends, neighbors and enemies languishing in my computer, I decided to take the plunge. TIMEWARP is now available for the Nook and the Kindle, and I hope some of you will consider reading it.

Lisa Haselton's Reviews and Interviews: Interview with mystery author Debra C. Thomas

Lisa Haselton's Reviews and Interviews: Interview with mystery author Debra C. Thomas: "Today at Reviews and Interviews we have mystery writer Debra C. Thomas . Bio: Freelance artist and fiction writer Debra C. Thomas has pu..."

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Terrifying Sock Monkeys

In Joss Whedon's TV show "Firefly," there is a scene in which Captain Malcolm Reynolds finds the engine room in a terrible mess. He hunts down mechanic Kaylee Frye and says to her, "Were there monkeys? Some terrifying space monkeys maybe got loose?" Some Terrifying Space (Sock) Monkeys are loose in my life. It began innocently enough in 2009, with the "Mr. Foster Sock Monkey Kit" from Knit Picks. I intended the monkey to be a gift for my not-yet-arrived first grandchild. But after I finished it, several months before Nermal the World's Cutest Grandson arrived, said monkey discovered a small decorative sombrero that was the perfect size for his head. He put it on, and Senor Foster was born. I gave him a pencil mustache, and things sort of took off from there.

He asked for a companion, so I knitted Chiquita Chihuahua for him. (What else would a monkey call his pet?) He discovered the joy of traveling, and accompanied us on several road trips.

While Chiquita is a great companion, it wasn't long until Senor Foster started hinting that he'd really like a lady friend. I wanted to design my own monkey pattern so I could sell the finished monkeys, and I came up with a decidedly female monkey. Mimi LaTour swept Senor Foster off his feet ... and off to the Banana Cabana, which serves Banana Margeritas and Fancy Drinks with Tiny Paper Umbrellas. I didn't see them again for days.



Senor Foster and Mimi were so busy with each other that I felt I had to knit another monkey. The pattern for Mimi was a bit complicated, so once again I designed a new pattern. I chose locally available yarn in hopes of teaching a Sock Monkey class, but alas, my Local Yarn Shop closed before I could get anything set up. However, I now had Marvin to keep me company on road trips and get into Monkey Mischief whenever possible.


In fact, Marvin enjoys traveling so much that he hitched a ride with my husband on a business trip to Seattle, where he flirted with girls and hung out at the top of the Space Needle. I'm still jealous ....

In order to prevent this from happening again, I knitted said husband a sock monkey of his own for Christmas. Melvin the Geek Monkey lives on his desk at work. I didn't get photos before he moved in there, but he came equipped with Proper Work Clothes as well as jeans and a Hawaiian shirt for Casual Fridays.

I wrote a pattern for a Pocket Monkey, a smaller version of Marvin, for my husband's co-worker, the guy who was embarrassed by the idea of carrying such a thing on a trip. I used that pattern with heavier yarn to finally knit Nermal his very own monkey.

The sock monkey bug took an interesting turn in the meantime, branching out into Commercially Available Monkeys, starting with Jack, an honest-to-goodness Rockford Red Heel Sock Monkey. He and Marvin got into mischief on a trip last spring.

Mad Max is a small but Terrifying pocket-sized sock monkey, sometimes armed with a ray gun. He has his own Micro Monkey, and protects him fiercely:
Mad Max is demanding that I knit him his very own space suit so he can help Fred, Jack's larger brother, defend the travel trailer, which we have named Serenity. Fred calls his ray gun "Vera."