Overcoming Overload

July 15, 2018 by Leave a Comment

I used to follow six news sources morning and night and sometimes seek out more. Guess what? That got to be overload. It wasn’t just that I was reading, or viewing, the same focal issues repeatedly. It was that I was being jolted by the same atrocities and crises over and over. The reasons I followed these multiple sources was to check their consistency and seek out more information, but there seemed little I could do with it. I wasn’t a journalist or national decision-maker, just a concerned citizen feeling a need to stay informed. I wanted to touch bases with others, but soon every conversation was either a minefield of socio-political difference, or an exhausting reiteration of similar concerns. I lost balance.

Now, conversations seem to bring out things in addition to the latest political catastrophe or unbelievable event. I wouldn’t call it a return to normalcy, but I suspect there has been a collective attempt to regain normalcy to the extent and in those areas of life where it might be attainable. Now, I sometimes skip one or two news reports in favor of sitting on the back deck and enjoying the evening, or morning. I look at the local wildlife. We have a young cotton tail bunny in our yard we have enjoyed watching since early spring. The birds have built nests, produced offspring and become busy teaching them to forage and survive. Now, they provide an evening concert from their various secure places in the massive tree limbs overhead. The creek is quite low, but beautiful in its burbling meander at the edge of our back yard. Tiger lilies and hostas are the current attraction for butterflies, and fireflies punctuate the night, albeit with smaller flashes than I remember, this year.

The national, and international, social scenes are still chaotic and uncertain. But, that uncertainty provides a needed base for hope as well as angst. The earth still turns, the seasons move along, and there is a majesty in the progression of natural events that surround us. There is a beauty and joy in the quick glimpse of that young bunny running across the expanse of clover underfoot. There is a sense of a functional community in the chorus of birdsongs. And, a mug of coffee just tastes better outdoors than in front of the evening news. The editing phase of my latest Bobby Navarro mystery is nearly complete, and I’m anxious to bring this story to publication. Like the outdoors, Bobby offers a sense of hope and decency, not just diversion. Although, I think a good murder mystery provides plenty of diversion. How about you? Has this been a time in which you’ve had to struggle for your sanity and well-being? What helps, or has helped, you maintain your balance?

Filed Under: Back to basics, Books, Outdoor living, Reading, Village Life, writing

When Things Heat Up

July 1, 2018 by 1 Comment

 

Well, it’s officially summer, but I  convinced by the temperatures in the nineties. As usual, when I ask around, people don’t remember temperatures like this in upstate New York. I suspect people all over are saying much the same thing. I do remember driving my motorcycle through Tennessee one time when it was ninety-nine with ninety-nine percent humidity. That was brutal. I also remember taking my oldest son across the Mohave desert into California in the cooler hours of the night on another motorcycle trip because it had been one-hundred twenty-three degrees that day in Arizona. In spite of traveling at night, exposed parts of my hands ended up with a “sunburn” from heat radiating up from the highway. Temperatures in the nineties? That shouldn’t keep me from working outside on the house, should it? Or, should it?

Turns out, there may be hope for my gaining wisdom in my old age. I stayed inside and did some editing on my latest manuscript. Smart move, I think. The Amish in our area are still working their fields in this kind of weather. Glad they are. The vegetables they sell in their local produce stand are fantastic. To be fair,  most of them are younger than I am. Makes a difference. I know I wouldn’t want to ride through that brutal Tennessee heat and humidity on a motorcycle now either. And, that scorcher in Arizona? Forget it. I’ll let my protagonist, Bobby Navarro, take those rides, and I’ll accompany him through memories rather than recent “research”.  Although, I do recall that several days of my last cross-country trip on the bike hovered around one-hundred-twelve degrees. The thing is, once you’re on the road you have to ride. Trouble is, weather has become even less predictable than it was then. And more brutal.

Growing up in northern California, summer heatwaves invited trips to a local stream where we swam in the beaver ponds. The water was always cold and refreshing. And, when my children were young it was trips to the Connecticut shore that seemed a must-do thing. How do you handle those periods of high heat when it seems too daunting to go outside? I’m thinking a good book and hammock strung up in the shade sounds appealing to me. What’s your approach?

Filed Under: Back to basics, Books, Camping, Outdoor living, Reading, Village Life, writing

Technology Today

June 17, 2018 by 2 Comments

This week I’m running behind schedule on most things, my blog included. I’ve been working on replacing the siding on our house. That means hammer and pry-bar, dozens of nails and bag after bag of debris—not to mention Ibuprofen at the end of the day. Definitely a low-tech operation. That part, I like. I have problems with technological innovations that keep offering to help me do whatever it is I’m doing when I’m on my computer. I have one on my bank app that doesn’t seem willing to concede defeat when I tell it to go away, and one that pops up on my computer when I start up that seems to think I need to install a program I’ve long been using.

I find these ‘helping hands’ an annoyance. I didn’t ask for their help, or their appearance. I don’t feel comfortable with the thought of using them or trying to. And, it doesn’t help when I’m told even a nine-year old can figure it out. I don’t want a nine-year old running my life or having more control over it than I do. One reason I don’t trust these pop-up helper appearances is they want permission to use information from all sources on my computer or phone. I don’t believe they have my best interests at heart. Come to think of it, I don’t think they have a heart.

I concede that there are great advantages to enjoy from the use of modern technology, but they come at the tacit acceptance of disadvantages as well. The trouble with technology, is that it gets ahead of us. Especially those of us who have learned a few things since we were nine-year olds. Like reading a map, writing a memo or note. Or letter. Some of us think we can handle our own organization of documents and photos. We can even organize our own thoughts and put them into a novel of our own creation.

Speaking of novels, I can’t picture my series protagonist, Bobby Navarro, embracing some of this technology either. He rides a Harley across country to relax and enjoy life. He camps out and cooks real food over a fire. Sometimes he stops off at a burger joint for lunch because he feels hungry and sees a place that’s handy. He doesn’t try to find a particular dining experience on the internet and then follow his device to the suggested location. That’s one of the many things I find interesting and reassuring about Bobby. He can do things for himself. Sometimes he gets stubborn in that regard, like when he is solving a murder. I’m glad he does. And, none of his intelligence is artificial. How’s your relationship with modern technology going these days?

Filed Under: Back to basics, blog posts, Books, Camping, Cooking, Motorcycles, Outdoor living, Reading, Uncategorized, writing

Writers and Weather

June 1, 2018 by 2 Comments

Weather is such a variable factor here in upstate New York. People joke about it. Many complain when it changes, bringing a threat of thunderstorms or whatever. Oddly, its one of the things I enjoy here. Not always, but overall. I had to run an errand in a town about twenty miles from where we live, so I took the Mustang and drove with the top down. Gorgeous drive. Farmers are plowing for corn, creating a checkerboard pattern of different colors and shades across the hills and valleys. Trees have leafed-out with lights shades of green contrasting with the darker stands of conifers here and there. Wildflowers are blooming. Yellow buttercups and lavender flowers looking like small pansies are clumped along fencerows and roadsides. Overhead, the sky was blue with white puffs of cloud providing dramatic accents. Horses grazed knee-high in grass and wildflowers, and herds of Holsteins occupied themselves with the rich spring grazing. Some farmers had already taken a cut of hay, and the big circular bales dotted freshly mowed fields. After the drive, we sat on the deck overlooking our own backyard and trout stream. What could be better?

Next morning brought complete change. The temperature was still warm, but not pleasant. Humidity was up, and the sky was heavily overcast and threatening. It remained that way all day. We’re still waiting for the rain, which we can use at this point. I need to water the plants in our vegetable garden. I don’t want them to wilt. And, instead of feeling uplifted by glorious spring weather, there has been a sense of impending problem or crisis of some sort. Easy to become anxious and turn one’s thoughts to all the things that could go wrong. Weather changes can do that to a person.

I’ve experienced a lot of adverse weather on the numerous motorcycle trips I’ve made across country. When you’re on the open road, you are exposed. No way around it. Sometimes, there is little you can do about it except try to survive the ride and whatever it brings. I’ve tried to bring that aspect of riding to my stories of Bobby Navarro. It’s part of riding a motorcycle, especially when you take the long ride. Later, it makes for an adventure you relate to others. At the time, endure the ride as best you can. But capturing the weather seems important to telling the story the way it should be told.

Weather can be a handy tool for a writer. Bringing in the weather can help set the mood for a story (aside from the clichéd It was a dark and stormy night). Shifting the weather from pleasant to threatening can help build tension and suspense. It can even dramatize the personality of a character. Think about a character walking down a seaside path, enjoying the sun, or not running from a sudden shower. Weather can also be used to convey a character’s emotions, something I find challenging. Like a lot of men, I learned more growing up about holding back emotions than I did about acknowledging and describing them. A timely comment about the weather helps me convey something about Bobby Navarro and what he’s feeling and experiencing.

What are your thoughts about weather? Do you enjoy an occasional storm, or cloudy/misty day? I’m going to assume everyone likes a sunny day, especially with a bunny in the grass.

Filed Under: Back to basics, blog posts, Books, Motorcycles, Outdoor living, Village Life, writing

Campfire Reflections

May 19, 2018 by 2 Comments

I’m writing this blog in advance of a camping trip I’m taking with two of my sons. I’ve really looked forward to this. When I was five-to-nine years old my dad took the family camping in the redwoods north of San Francisco where he spent time with relatives as a child himself. We drove an old Plymouth and pulled a trailer for all the camping gear. Of course, the drive was long, and I remember my parents once getting into an argument over something, probably whether we should be taking the trip at all. Dad liked to go because it gave him an opportunity to go deer hunting. Mom thought it only gave her a chance to do her regular housework without benefit of modern appliances.

I doubt that I enjoyed the trip itself, because it required hours of riding in the back seat with my sister. But I did love the camping. We stayed in an army surplus cabin-style, canvas tent. Once we set it up on top of a nest of yellow jackets, or wasps. One or two of them made their way up my pantleg. We had to move the tent, and I had to suffer the effect of their painful stings. We slept on the ground beneath heavy covers, and I still remember the exotic smell of the tent. Mom didn’t think it was so exotic. I don’t know what my sister thought about it.

In the mornings, my sister and I usually ate cornflakes covered in canned milk and served in a tin plate. I didn’t like the taste of the milk that way, and the plate made the meal somewhat tippy, but it was better than breakfasts of eggs and bacon. At that time, I didn’t like either eggs or bacon and it seemed to take hours of chewing before I managed to swallow the last required mouthful.

So, why did I love camping? It seemed almost magical. There was a fallen redwood tree nearby that provided a mammoth bridge to anywhere my imagination could conjure. Mom carved a tiny “truck” from a small branch, and I spent hours “driving” it along the mountain roads I formed along the rise of soft dirt at the bole of the fallen tree. And that tent smell! It reminded me of the gear my returning uncles from WWII brought with them to our home. Add to that the sounds of the sputtering of our Coleman lantern, the hiss of our gas camping stove, and the soughing of the wind in the branches far above us, and most of all, the voluminous quiet engulfing the entire campsite, and it was indeed magical.

After we moved to our farm in the foothills, I did very little camping until I was an adult living in Los Angeles. As a child in the hills, I pretty much lived outdoors. As an adult in the Los Angeles area I felt stifled by houses, traffic, and endless streets and highways. I needed to connect with something that seemed real and not man-made. Camping provided a means toward that end. Bobby Navarro, my series protagonist, feels this way too. Motorcycles and camping provide him with needed connections to his sense of the way life should be.

Although it might be different if I had to do it, cooking over a campfire or camp stove adds to the enjoyment of camping for me—as for Bobby. He honed his culinary skills working for a cook on a cattle ranch in New Mexico. And, while I won’t say everything I’ve prepared under primitive conditions has tasted wonderful, I’ve always maintained that another hour on the hiking trail, or another hundred miles on the back of a motorcycle will improve the taste of any campsite culinary creation.

It’s ironic, I suppose, that something always so magical would help me stay grounded in reality. Well, not any reality. The streets and highways of Los Angeles were real enough. But they didn’t give me any sense of being in touch with a world I loved, the outdoors. Compared to a birdsong or the fragrance of wood smoke, Los Angeles traffic didn’t make me feel grounded at all. Maybe that’s part of the lure of camping for me still. Looking up at the stars at night, I feel an appreciative awareness of the universe. What keeps you grounded in the things that matter most to you?

Campfire cooking

Filed Under: Back to basics, blog posts, Books, Camping, Cooking, Outdoor living, Uncategorized, Village Life

Upstate Spring

May 4, 2018 by 1 Comment

We’re back in upstate New York enjoying the spring routine. Well, some of it is very enjoyable. Some, not so much. We were able to take credit for bringing warm weather with us up from the south, but that only lasted two days. Then we had freezing temps, ice on the pond, sleet and snow. At a lake we enjoy hiking around in the summer, the ice on the surface was sixteen inches thick. Nevertheless, I got outside and started the routine of  yard work. Getting the leaves out from under trees, plants and bushes is not my favorite job, but it felt good to be out in the fresh air.

Birds are out and active as well. We enjoy the songbirds we get up here, robins included, and love the return of the Canada geese. The trees on the hillsides are still bare, but their tops are showing hints of new leaf buds developing, and there is a reddish shading in the treetops as a result. Willows along streams in the valleys are showing chartreuse indications of new growth. On the ground, shoots are popping up everywhere and early flowers like crocus, grape hyacinth and daffodils are bringing color to the scene. All-in-all very pretty.

The last several days have been in the eighties, and I’m wondering if those first couple of days of spring weather were all we’re going to get. Eighties? Really? That’s summertime weather along with the rain and humidity. Still glad to be able to get outside between showers, though. I won’t start complaining…yet.

I know what Bobby Navarro would be doing this time of year. He would be getting his Harley ready for the road and another adventure. The seasonal changes are important to me. I enjoy the changes in the trees, the movement of wildlife, the changes in the air and temperature. I think Bobby would have to love the changes too, and not just be in a hurry to get his bike out of winter storage. Most people have a favorite season of the year, but I wonder how many enjoy all the changes, as I do. How about you? And, what are your thoughts about characters in novels showing, and reacting to, seasonal changes? Think about it, seasons and seasonal changes can be useful metaphors.

Filed Under: Back to basics, blog posts, Books, Motorcycles, Outdoor living, Uncategorized, Village Life, writing

If Truth be Told

April 19, 2018 by 2 Comments

These days I’m hearing and reading a lot about people lying. Worse, I hear it’s becoming normalized. It’s in our ads, the statements salespeople and contractors make. Top government and business officials seem to do it with impunity. While lying for self-interest is not new—e.g. the ancient principle of caveat emptor—its current normalization has me concerned for several reasons. Obviously, I want to be able to trust elected officials who work for us, and for the good of the country. I want to receive the value for which I pay when I buy something. But most important, I want to know truth is still an important value in our country, not an antiquated bit of culture. Sometimes people lied when I was growing up. At the same time, a person’s word was supposed to mean something. A deal could be sealed with a handshake. If you were caught lying, you got punished.

Now, this concern may seem strange coming from someone who places so much importance in writing fiction. I’ve heard fiction writers referred to as people who lie for a living. But, I think that’s far from the truth. It would be a lie to write something, claiming it was true when it was not. That would be unethical. It would also violate the point of fiction. Fiction is an effort to capture more than a literal snapshot of some people or event. Fiction is an attempt to say something about life, about people, about ideas principles—and truth. Truth of character. Decent behavior. Justice. Things which we should care about.

I write murder mysteries. But, they are always more about personal and social crisis and response. And, good wins out. They are works of fiction I’ve crafted to say something about people, communities, situations and events. My protagonist, Bobby Navarro, is a fictional character, but he is not a lie. His stories support decency, not murder. I don’t want to see lying normalized. That would be giving up on ideals I think important to us and to society. Any thoughts on the matter?

Filed Under: Back to basics, blog posts, Books, Motorcycles, Outdoor living, Reading, writing

The Core of a Protagonist

April 6, 2018 by 2 Comments

We were talking with friends the other night, and I mentioned I was reading a Jack Reacher novel. This produced an immediate outburst regarding the movie and our friend’s opinion that Tom Cruz was all wrong for the role. He was great in Top Gun, but just wrong for Reacher.

I’ve heard this conviction before. Several times. As in the past, I suggested Jim Caviezel, who plays the role of the tall, quiet man in a suit in the Person of Interest series, for the role of Jack Reacher. Our friends immediately agreed, he would be fine. I’ve heard this before, too. The way everyone seems to agree on this matter intrigues me. It’s not that they have been saying Tom Cruz doesn’t do a good acting job, but rather that he isn’t Jack Reacher. When I press the issue, I usually hear that Cruz is not tall enough. Well, size is certainly a major part of Jack Reacher’s character, but I insist there is more. He’s a street fighter who has won most of his fights. He has fought all his life. He had to. And, as an Army MP, he’s had to stand up to a range of opponents in his military career. He has. Without concern for the outcome. It’s part of who he is. Tough. Principled. With his own code for behavior and no room for deviation or hesitation no matter the consequences. Even if the consequences alienate him from everyone and everything he has enjoyed, mainly the Army. And, it shows. It’s part of his core.

 Tom Cruz could play Top Gun, because that role called for a young, dare devilish man with a great smile and irrepressible charm. That’s not Reacher. John Reese (Jim Caviezel) in Person of Interest is tall, athletic with mature good looks, but seems isolated from everyday society. He carries a dark side born from a painful past. Caviezel brings the necessary mystique required to fulfill the part of Jack Reacher. He could achieve this requisite core of the Reacher character.

Naturally, my own thoughts after this discussion leaped to writing. Not all characters are written with a deep and essential core in mind. For me, these characters are less memorable in the same way some stories entertain for the moment and are quickly forgotten. I like those with a main character who is memorable and has depth. That’s also what I want for my own protagonist. I like it when readers find Bobby Navarro memorable, and when they do I think it has something to do with who Bobby is at his core.

Bobby is written as a biker who rides alone, he is not part of a club or gang. However, the highway, not the Harley, is at the core of who Bobby Navarro is. Bobby rides into town as an outsider. Eventually, he will leave town again—once he has fulfilled his obligation to the victim. He is at home on the road, and that is where he seems destined to remain. The highway is in his blood, and colors his soul. It is essential to his core.

What core characteristics define your favorite protagonists? And, who do you like for Jack Reacher?

 

Filed Under: Back to basics, blog posts, Books, Motorcycles, Rural Florida, Village Life, writing

Managing Memories and Memorabilia

March 23, 2018 by Leave a Comment

A friend of ours is getting ready to move after twenty years or more in the same house. I’ve been through that process. It’s astounding how much accumulates over that length of time. It amounts to a lot of work. There are the forays for packing boxes, yard sales to set up, things to take to Goodwill, and hours to spend sorting though everything. However, from an outsider point of view, it’s like catching glimpses of someone’s life never suspected before. Memorabilia from times we’ve heard about but briefly, and otherwise didn’t share.

It also made me think about my series protagonist. I don’t see Bobby Navarro accumulating boxes, closets and rooms filled with stuff to be disposed of someday. After all, he spends his travel time on the back of his Harley. One doesn’t accumulate a lot of souvenirs riding a motorcycle. An old helmet, maybe a worn leather vest or pair of boots. Perhaps a tee-shirt with the Route 66 logo on the back. Not boxes of nearly forgotten things tucked away, out of sight for years. There must be a few things though. Something from his days in the Marine Corps? A piece of camping gear no longer used, but not discarded? An old knife? I wonder. He lives in a furnished apartment. He could probably throw all his belongings into sea bag or large duffel. It’s fun to speculate as to what he might hang onto.

The thing is, these artifacts of our existence were important to us at one point, and trigger memories about who we have been and the roads we have traveled. In that context, it’s important that our fictional heroes have a past, a collection of events and encounters that helped define them in the same way a prop room contains elements from past theatrical sets that made a former play come to life. Remnants of our past were props constructing who we were and help explain who we have become. However, as writers, we have to be careful how we bring forth the past belonging to our protagonists; a little bit can go a long way. Dredging up the old memories of our characters can easily become an unwanted data dump. It’s tricky. At the same time, a little glimpse into the past life of our protagonists can give them depth and add to the things that make them real and interesting. I wonder what memories Bobby will uncover if he ever does go through his accumulated belongings, however meager the stockpile.

Filed Under: Back to basics, blog posts, Books, Motorcycles, Reading, Village Life, writing

The Second Rule of Writing

February 24, 2018 by 4 Comments

For cozy mysteries, the first expectation I usually hear is the story must be set in a small town or village. The second is that the protagonist is an amateur sleuth. Now, in real life it seems unlikely a murder would be solved by an everyday person who becomes curious, gets involved and solves the murder. That’s okay. I’ve understood for a long time that a suspension of disbelief is part of enjoying an amateur sleuth novel. No problem. I enjoy Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple, for example. She has a curious disposition, and it’s both part of her charm and a reason for her involvement.  Most of her sleuthing amounts to eavesdropping and applying her considerable wit. Over time, she has gained a reputation for her abilities, and people ask for her help. You see? No problem–however tenuous this scenario might be in real-life.

On the other hand, I recently put down a book I’ve been trying to get into, and I probably won’t pick it back up. Over-all, the story is well-written. The reader can have fun making guesses as to what’s coming, but the story is sure to play out with unexpected twists and turns, and some of the early scenes are filled with suspense. Problem is, I just don’t think the protagonist had believable reason to become that involved in the first place. The deeper the involvement, the less believable it becomes, and the harder it is to develop liking and concern, or caring, for the protagonist.

When I began learning the basics of writing it seemed there were myriad rules to be religiously adhered to. After a while I got used to that. Until now, I had pretty much taken it for granted that an amateur sleuth must be given a credible reason for his or her involvement in a murder investigation. I remember an editor asking about my protagonist’s reason for involvement when I was pitching an early novel. I felt a great sense of relief when I could give a good answer, but I knew beforehand that a good reason needed to be there.  Now, I understand why. It makes all the difference. Coming across a novel that appeared to violate this basic principle has been an epiphany. 

In the book I was attempting to read, a small voice in the back of my mind kept challenging each unfolding scene with the question of why the hero was doing what he was doing. Not surprisingly, his involvement became riskier and more suspenseful as the story progressed. But for me, it didn’t progress. It just kept getting more unbelievable. That small voice got louder. The frustration of trying to suspend disbelief grew and was ruining the story for me. The hero just wasn’t believable.

I think most of us who are writers have spent many hours learning the craft. When someone hasn’t, that fact usually stands out when you read what they have written. I’ve encountered this over and over when reading something written by a writer still in the novice stage. When it happens, it reinforces the rules of the craft, and I try to help the writer learn them. The book I was reading that set this train of thought into motion was not written by a beginner with great potential. He is well-established and a good writer—usually. For me, this was a glaring discovery of what happens if the basic expectation of the need for a reason for involvement is missing or breaks down.

I wonder how many others have discovered the importance of some basic tenet of writing by encountering an established author’s failing to follow it in some instance. Have you had a disappointing experience reading the work of an author who should have known better? Any pet peeves to share?

Filed Under: Back to basics, blog posts, Books, Reading, writing