ANOTHER CUP OF COFFEE, PLEASE (AN UPDATE AND SOME PULPY STUFF)

        I'm pretty wiped out this morning, even after I guzzled my first cup of coffee. I had a late night last night, typing up a story I had in a new book to get it ready to post on the Saturday Night Pulps blog. It's not finished, but its close, and I'm feeling a sense of accomplishment for getting it done.

It's the first story I've transcribed entirely from a notebook in a while and it took about six hours. I used to write them in a notebook, then type them on a typewriter, then put them on the computer. It was a long process, but it allowed for a lot of editing, and really getting to know the story. I might go back to that, but right now, I'm going to continue to bask in the glory of finishing what I started.

Basking

        That's the thing. I have about five projects I'm currently working on, not counting this little blog. I have that story, which I'm calling THE PANICKED AND THE DEAD, a second draft of a novel I'm trying to get done, and several short story ideas I'm working on. Once one is finished, I move on as quickly as I can to the next, not letting the idea that just because one is finished, I can take a break from writing. That's not how this gig works. You have to throw words at the paper, and hope they fall into order somehow. It takes a little more work than that, but its essentially the idea.

           I read a book recently called, HOW TO WRITE PULP FICTION. It was a short book geared to fans of the genre, but there were a few ideas and anecdotes about the originators of pulp, those brave souls who decided to make a living, or try to, throwing words onto paper.

          The major theme of the book, was to write hard, and write fast. This was a time when there were hundreds of markets for short, plot driven stories, and a writer could actually make a living doing this, if he cracked the formula and wrote hard and fast enough to sell to all the different pulp mags.

         Another anecdote was a about a guy who was throwing a party. Around ten o'clock at night, he announced he was going into the bathroom to write, because he had a deadline in the morning and needed a six thousand word story to meet it. Six hours later he appeared, story in hand, ready to party.

         

"I just wrote a timeless classic while I was on the can. What did you do last night?"

         A lot of these guys were hard drinking, hard writing, pulp masters. Of course, not all pulp writers were all that good. Like I said, there was, and is, a formula to the genre, but some literary greats did come from the school of Pulp. Raymond Chandler was one. Dashiell Hammet was another. That's just two, off the top of my head, but there are more.

         Even if you don't write pulp, or aspire to some literary achievement beyond merely getting published, there is a lot to learn from these guys.

         Number one, is write. Write, write, write. They never stopped. Like I said, to make a living at it, getting paid one cent a word (probably more than most get paid now) they needed to sell hundreds of stories. So they wrote, wrote, wrote.

        Number two is plot. These guys knew plot. They saw plot everywhere, and took inspiration from the people and places around them. A guy and dame at the lunch counter? Who are they? Where did they come from? And why did that guy murder the dame's husband?

         Not all writing is plot driven, but there is plot in all writing. It's what makes the story go. It makes the reader read. Even a tired old plot like the husband murder I just mentioned, can pull the reader in, if its done well. Change it up. Why did the dame murder the man's wife? Or, the man's husband? Whatever you want to do. Just make it interesting. Pull them in.

         Number three. Writing is a profession. A job. Like any job, it takes training and practice and motivation to do it well and get that promotion. The promotion here, I guess, would be to get published. Writing is a job, like musician's gig, once its over, its over, and you have to get another one, or in this case, write another story. Even if that one didn't get published. Even if that one, the one you worked so hard on, draft after draft, and viola, its a masterpiece, you still have to get up the next morning and start it all over again. You have to make that magic happen, story after story. It's not an easy task, believe me.

          Sometimes your mind feels like its been flushed empty and you've done every possible combination of stories you possibly can, you have to get in front of that blank screen and stare it down, and say, “Today I will write another masterpiece!”

I think the hat goes with the theme I'm cultivating here.

            You have to, if you're a writer. If you're not, then close the word processor, pull up the internet, and browse through the political posts until your mind is numb.

          But, if you are a writer, or an aspiring writer, guzzle that next cup of coffee, or whatever you use to get your mind going, pull up that blank screen, and start writing.

        Don't worry. The words will come. They always do.

MY ADVENTURES IN DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS (WHAT PLAYING WITH SATAN TAUGHT ME ABOUT WRITING)

        I've mentioned before how I was a big comic book addict when I was a kid. Besides inspiring me with stories about heroes and villains, another thing the world of comic books brought me was Dungeons and Dragons.

When the back covers of the comics weren't pushing Hubba-Bubba and Genesis games on my young, impressionable mind, they were advertising this strange game I had never heard of called Advanced Dungeons and Dragons, 2^nd Edition.

But what is it?

            What is this, my young mind wondered, as I gazed at the painting of a Knight or barbarian doing battle with an awesome looking demon or dragon. I had never heard of the first edition of this game, let alone the second. And, is it a game? I had no idea.

It was several years I think, before I came across the actual Dungeons and Dragons rule books in a book store. There, as I pilfered through the pages of the Player's Handbook, I was filled with more intrigue and curiosity gazing at the paintings inside the books. They were beautifully packaged, with hardbound covers, and the artwork inside drew me into the creative worlds that waited to be explored.

The book that started it all

        For those who don't know, Dungeons and Dragons is a role-playing game. One person, the Dungeon Master, creates a world and circumstances for the other players, who have created their own characters, to explore.

You ain't the Master until you read this

        When I first discovered the game, I had no one to play with. I was alone with all of this wonderful, creative information that begged for stories to be told. I made my little brother and his buddy play a few times, but that wasn't it. They weren't as like minded as I was about delving into the realms of fantasy.

      So, I waited, not knowing if I would ever find a group of adventurers to put forth on a quest of good versus evil. Back then, Dungeons and Dragons was this mysterious thing no one knew about, or if they did, it was because they had heard it was the game Satan played with his minions. Needless to say, it took a while for me to find a group of friends to play with.

      One fella, shortly after meeting me, says he saw the Player's Handbook and Dungeon Master's Guide in the backseat of my car. He knew we'd be friends after that. And we still are, by the way.

We spent many late nights campaigning in worlds I created, where the good guys, who weren't always good guys, fought mighty battles with undead dragons to claim their treasure, only to be zapped back in time to find new kingdoms to conquer.

    

I wish I had been as cool as this kid...he's got friends. And cool over-alls.

         It was a lot of fun. But it was also good training for a young writer. Being a Dungeon Master taught me a lot about writing. It taught me to keep the story going. Keep the action and suspense vivid for the players. It taught me not to get to hung up on an outline or idea I had that's not working, because the players will always do something unexpected to deviate from the plan. And that's what a writer wants. A writer wants to entertain and to create something unexpected. In Dungeons and Dragons, no outline is concrete. No character is invincible. There's always a hint of danger. As it should be in good writing.

       I'm glad I discovered Dungeons and Dragons when I did and I'm thankful good players found me and allowed me to weave their characters into my stories. With them, the stories were no longer mine, but ours.

      I think that's one of the goals of a writer. To create something other people feel is theirs to experience.

      So, break out the twenty-sided dice and let's roll up an adventure.

Friends make everything better.

Happy Birthday Jack Kerouac

Today is Jack Kerouac's birthday. Had he not drank himself to death at the age of 47, he'd be 94 today.

Kerouac made his mark in literature back in the fifties. His book, On the Road, inspired millions of imitators and launched a new movement in literature. He may not have been the best or most talented of the Beats, but he is by far the most famous, aside from Allen Ginsberg.

What makes Kerouac different, sets him apart from the rest of the Beats, is how dangerous he was, especially to the movement to which he gave name.

On the Road was published in the fifties, when America was perhaps at it's height of conservatism. On the Road, a biographical account of Kerouac's trips across America, where he explored jazz dens and smoked reefer across the border in Mexico, gave the underground currents that buzzed across the great wide states of America, a voice. It opened the eyes of people who had perhaps never even conceived there were other possibilities than those set before them by their parents. It was this voice that made Kerouac the King of the Beat Generation.

This is all great stuff for a kid living in a small town, waiting for their chance to see what's out there on the horizon. The basic theme, I found, was to dig life, to dig the ups and downs, and to realize its all one beautiful journey.

It took Kerouac ten years to write and get his book of “spontaneous prose” published. It coincided with the rise in Jazz and Bebop, of which Kerouac incorporated into his prose. He wrote with a beat in his head, which gave the Beat Generation its name. Had Kerouac never written another book, he would have been a mere footnote in history, if that. But he did. After the success of On the Road, his publisher wanted more of the same. It's what happens when an artist becomes successful. The ones who made money off them, want more. So he churned out more experiences, the best of which was The Dharma Bums. His books all follow the same characters, and it was his idea to incorporate them into one large story, called The Vanity of Duluoz.

Kerouac had many critics, and even today, he is often dismissed as anything more than a fad or an adolescent's vision of what a writer should be. Truman Capote famously said of Kerouac, “That's not writing, that's typing.”

What these critics fail to see, is that while his prose breaks so many literary rules, often sending a single sentence trampling across several pages, is that there is a beat Kerouac is working too, and if read aloud, as evidenced in his Steve Allen performance, it creates something new. Something that had never been done before.

And while Kerouac, as a man, should be nobody's idol, his work will last forever, drunken warts and all.

So, here's to you Jack. Happy Birthday.

Person Of Interest: Margaret Brundage

I'm starting something new with this post, called Person of Interest. These will be about people who interest me in various ways. Since it was recently Women Appreciation Day, I decided to start if off with, you guessed it, a woman.

Margaret Brundage

Margaret Brundage was known as the Queen of the Pulps. She is chiefly known as the cover artist for Weird Tales Magazine, where she painted the first depiction of Robert E. Howard's Conan the Barbarian. Her work was so popular at the time, writers would put scenes in their stories they thought would make a good Brundage cover.

The first depiction of Conan The Barbarian

             It's interesting to note, the magazine received more criticism for their sexy covers once it was revealed M. Brundage, as she was credited at the time, was a woman.

One of her more famous pieces, "Bat Woman"

      She worked steadily, until there was a public backlash against the pulps for their racy covers and violent stories. When New York prohibited pulps with half-naked women on the cover displayed at news stands, it pretty much put her out of work.

The art she did for the pulps contain half-naked damsels in distress, befitting the genre, but for me, there is something more in her paintings. They grab you, and tell you a story just by looking at them. She worked in pastels, and the colors are striking, even the faded copies of the old magazines radiate a brilliance through the years.

Cover for another Robert E. Howard story

Margaret never really recovered from her drop in sales to the magazines, which supported her, her son and mother, and her bum of a husband. She lived the rest of her life in poverty, making the rounds at pulp conventions when they cropped up.

I look at her work, though, and I see something exciting. I see other worlds. Other places. I see stories to be told.