MANY VOICES, ONE HEAD... OY, A WRITER'S CRAZINESS

Tonight at 8:30 I'll see my final PIFF film, a Columbian film, "Land and Shade". At OMSI, a huge IMAX theater.

The One Head of the book's title

Reworking the short stories for a book of short stories is going well. Calling it tentatively Many Voices, One Head. I've decided I'm going to enjoy and like my stories for their uniqueness —or not—as I rework them rather than notice that some don't fit any current mold going the rounds at the MFA programs or in the major literary magazines of America. Over the years, I've tried many forms, tried many styles and "voices". One piece I'm working on now is a mock film treatment for a nonsensical absurdist epic romantic film. Think Doctor Zhivago set on the moors of England, put together by a creator from Loony Tunes. Think Wuthering Heights, Bronte on acid. The stories I'm reworking don't speak with one voice. Serious themes rub elbows with absurd nonsense.

I don't want to put a beat down on major American writers, but, what you do notice in many notable authors is that their stories have a recognizable and certain feel. Raymond Carver is Raymond Carver. You read a collection of his stories, and all the stories sound the same. They speak with one voice. I don't know whether that's necessarily a strength. Or a weakness. It's just the way things are with writers. They find a successful voice and go with it. 

I felt that way about poetry. I knew when I wrote a potentially PUBLISHABLE poem, and, sure enough, those that fit the mold in my head of what was publishable were published. I don't know what to make of that. Do you?  Among my fictions are a few that fit the voice of what was going about 30 years ago. One of them placed 3rd in a contest, and another was a runner-up in the Writer's Digest annual contest. Neither of them has seen publication. These will appear in Many Voices, One Head too. Maybe I don't spend enough time sending my fiction work out, but I like to spend my writing time writing. Right. OY! And I'm not Jewish.

FIRST PIFF I'VE SEEN THIS YEAR: CEMETERY OF SPLENDOUR. POW.

The paradise of the Portland International Film Festival is full upon me. First movie tonight and walking the darkened after rain streets of the Alphabet District alone afterwards to my car, peering in at the wine bars, cafes and coffee shops along the way. Couples snuggling along in the dark streets. Heaven. The movie? Cemetery of Splendor, a film from Thailand. I couldn't understand much of its references, but I felt it deeply enough. It reminded me of all those foreign movies that drew me in during the 1960s and 70s. Here's what stuck out for me. No real spoilers. 
 
Central to the movie is a hospital where soldiers sleep who can't wake up, but one does from time to time. Maybe. The hospital is built over a cemetery that houses ancient emperors of Thailand. A backhoe digs nearby. A middle aged women, Jen, with a horribly damaged and shortened leg who has been married to a soldier from Thailand and is now married to a retired American soldier, volunteers at the hospital. Dreaming and waking states are central to the tale. Lush and exotic from beginning to end. My weak stab at the central theme of the film is that it depicts a woman of modern Thailand who is troubled by changing times and the painful past. Resolution at the end? Maybe? It's a gem. 

One favorite line. A character says, "I don't want to live in America. It's too poor. Europeans are living the American Dream." Socko boffo! Oh, I'm loving it.

HEMMING AND HAWING AROUND, WONDERING WHAT NEXT?

First draft of my film script is done. Still no name. Yesterday, during my walking time at the local Walmart—where I never buy anything—I thought for sure something would arrive from the muse about a name for my script, but, no, nada. 

Paul Cézanne

This morning I did some reworking of the first three paragraphs of my novel, Ghoul World. I want the agent/reader to get caught up real quick. I'm thinking I might go to the library and read the first three paragraphs of several dozen novels. At least, the opening paragraphs of the most popular novels. Of course, I have that many novels on my own book shelves, but do I want to read the first three paragraphs of only great literature? I don't think that's the best way to go for someone whose goal is "to get someone other than myself to publish a novel (or produce a film) I've written". 

Of course, the oft repeated statement that the opening paragraphs are so very important has a major hole in it. What about the 4th paragraph? The first chapter? Don't forget, I tell myself, an agent/reader can dive into the first three paragraphs of your book and then get tired of swimming somewhere on page ten if the writing doesn't continue to interest. How many novels have I begun, then set aside after several chapters? Well...........okay, not many. I'm addicted to reading.

In the last analysis, all these tricks of the trade mean nothing if one can't write an interesting tale with engaging characters. Does the motto, FINISH STRONG, ring anyone's bell?

BLOGGING BEAT BOOMER BEATS HEAD AGAINST WALL... AGAIN!

The query for Angie's Choice I sent by mail came back today, the one that reminded me of how much work it took to send off a query in the old days. I sent it off to the Zoe Pagnamenta agency. She answered within two weeks. NO! I had high hopes for it because of the methodology of the query. Don't know why printing out and mailing my query and sample felt more hopeful. Emotions are mysterious things even though they command our every deed and thought. I need to push the sci fi novel, Ghoul World, more forcefully. I let it languish, but it's a very interesting idea that ought to get at least a moment's attention somewhere.

On a positive note, yesterday, this writer's blog which also goes to a page I manage on Facebook , The Silent Boomer, received 221 hits. People are watching to see what might happen to me in my quest to "get someone other than myself to publish a novel I've written." Or "to produce a movie I've written."  Thanks to all who follow my journey. Many days now, I think it's time to fold up the writer's table and leave the dusty old bazaar to other scribes much younger than myself.

One very interesting thing about writing a movie script. The length of a 90 minute film takes from 90 to 120 pages. I've discovered that my elderly memory is able to keep track of 120 pages more easily than it tracks a plot and subplots through 400 to 500 pages of ms. I've already got several story lines in mind for films that I can't share because they are quite interesting. On my death bed, I'll tell all.