SILENT BOOMER BEATNIK BOILS SOME SPUDS

Had a good day of rewriting The Porn Writer yesterday and all the doubts that I expressed in the previous blog entry had disappeared. Yesterday's writing is okay today and the story is meaningful again. My doubt today is about agents and what they want. Serials for one thing. Also two women, not agents, have told me they wouldn't read a novel about a dysfunctional relationship between a controlling male and an incest victim in which the male begins to understand that he needs help while the woman goes on to [censored/spoiler]. Most agents these days are women, so that's a potential problem. Watch Lifetime movies if you want to see that limited viewpoint in all its crabbed glory. I don't know how a male author can deal with that mindset. Why must the woman nearly always be the victim? Aha! That statement ought to make the pot boil. It's a hot potato for certain. Also, I must warn that porn passages  my protagonist writes are included in the novel, and for good esthetic reasons. Some readers, of course, won't accept my explanation and will daintily hold the novel between thumb and forefinger as they extend it above the trash heap and release.

THE BEATNIK CONTINUES ON HIS NASTY WAY

Twelve days have passed since my last entry. According to authorities, if one keeps a writer's blog, he ought to make a brief entry every other day in order to keep readers interested. Brevity and frequency are the hooks, but there's little to report. At this time, four novels are out to agents or small press publishers, and I dispersed another 56 dollars to enter 3 short story contests. Currently, I'm reworking The Porn Writer for a 3rd time. I like the book better each time I work on it. It's truthful, but will unhappy material sell in our current culture? For my own guidance, I've reduced its theme to a single sentence: The Porn Writer explores the dysfunctional dance of sexual addiction between a man who grew up without the nurturing love of a mother, and a female victim of sexual abuse.    

 The first person narrator of my tale isn't particularly appealing, and the female is written as a lost soul. What troubles me in all such tales is that, usually, the lost woman gets all the sympathy while the male protagonist is frequently cast as a villain. The truth is that each chose the other in order to work out his and her issues with the opposite sex. The fact that I use pornographic writing to intensify the struggle between them will probably also turn off more delicate readers.

The photo above is my own of the Spokane River in Spring as it runs through downtown.