Deliberacy

Well I finally have it, a clean well-lighted place on the Internet’s mean, dark streets. Not that the world really needed another writer’s blog, but here I am. This project was born out of necessity, well that and the fact that I think the blogging phenomenon is fascinating. Anyway, I needed a way to make my writing available to whatever audience I have—it might just be the Colorado Three, who knows? But whoever you are thanks for stopping in. And special thanks to swt, who I am, as always, totally indebted to. He’s the reason the site looks so cool—hopefully the content will rival the design’s high standard.

For anyone who doesn’t know–Stark Raving Mad is a novel I recently completed for the second time. It’s about a crazy but very connected family. Write what you know, that’s what my dad always told me. The plot runs something like this:

More than twenty-five years ago Oliver Stark’s first novel made him the voice of a generation. It was the last extraordinary event in his life — till now.

While Oliver escapes his mundane reality through the pages of history books and the Discovery channel, his wife Ann and their four children struggle to come to terms with the paradox of Oliver’s larger than life personality and his patently dull existence. Martin, the oldest Stark child and the novel’s “author” and primary narrator, is admittedly having a weak moment when he succumbs to his younger sister’s suggestion to gamble all his savings on Happy City’s first rave club. Dissatisfied with regular jobs, inane bosses, financial woes and normalcy in general, Martin, Christian and Kerry embark on an entrepreneurial adventure designed to bring them excitement, glamour and wealth; while B, the youngest Stark, wrestles with her dreams of collegiate distinction and familial attachment.

With a nothing-is-ever-simple plot, the Stark children become entangled in a menagerie of unexpected situations. They lease their venue from a New Jersey mobster turned strip-mall-tycoon. Kerry’s former boyfriend, middle aged English raver Dennis Bland, becomes romantically involved with their mother. Faced with their parents’ disintegrating marriage, a local farmer’s war on suburban expansion, petty politics and the battle over proper rave club wall colors, unlikely friendships flourish, loyalties change and unexpected allies emerge.

Everything comes to a head at the annual Strawberry Festival — a lost cadaver, the Happy City riot, Dennis and Ann’s first date, Martin’s final shift as a chef, and a so called “Act of God” that leaves the Stark children’s hopes and dreams literally up in smoke. This string of mishaps ultimately moves Oliver to act, and forces the Stark family to reevaluate who they are and who they want to be, humorously revealing the distances traveled to bring a family back together.

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What do people I know and respect have to say about Stark?

I loved it so much I didn’t want it to end.
It’s much better than I ever expected it to be.
And my personal favorite: The writing is excellent, especially the voice of the narrator which manages to be smart, funny, engaging, pleasurable throughout.

What did agents have to say about my not-so-little work of fiction?
It takes too long to get going, it’s way too long for a first novel and it’s not dark enough—other than that it’s great.

Taking those criticisms into account I recently cut the original Stark by more than 20% (I didn’t think it was possible, but somehow I managed it). I also killed off every main character in sequentially more abstract and gruesome ways. It’s amazing how much less space it takes to kill characters than to develop them. That might explain some things about books and films in general…

I’m just kidding about killing off my Stark characters, but here in the little gray office we can’t decide if we prefer the old, slow-moving Stark or the lean-mean, fighting weight version. So we’d love feedback from you. I’ve posted pages from both versions covering the first few “events” in the book—funny the page numbers don’t line up. If you’re interested in reading the rest (of either) just let me know and I’ll send you a link.

When I started bugging swt to build me a blog, the idea was two-fold. It would give me a web presence with access to readers I don’t prepare breakfast for each morning and it would provide incentive to keep writing new stuff—a self-imposed pseudo-deadline mechanism with built in accountability, if you will. Originally I had envisioned posting the latest chapter of whatever novel I was working on say, once a week (it’s good to have goals).

But there’s a problem with this plan—I don’t tend to write linearly. I sort of jump from one nifty scene to the next leaving massive sections unwritten in between. Eventually these get filled in, preferably with more nifty scenes. It works for me, but not so much if you’re trying to read along.

Enter the Word-o-meter. Each week I’ll report on my progress in sheer word numbers—and if I’ve fallen woefully short, it’s up to you, my devoted friends and the built in accountability, to call me on it. I’m looking in a westerly direction as I write this. You know who you are!!!!!

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In response to abby26’s goading (see comments), here is the initial chapter of WORDS. It’s all you get till I finish.

I am amazed at the number of people who know me well and are unaware of this mad writing past-time of mine. This is particularly strange since I spent the bulk of 2006 wailing, railing and generally obsessing over my search for an agent. Guess that just proves I don’t get out much these days. So… for anyone that’s interested here’s the history.

I started writing stories (and poems) before I could read. Since my parents are both talented writers, it stands to reason that as a teen I chose to totally eschew any writing avocation. Instead I developed a decidedly rebellious streak with a distinct aversion to poetry (my mother’s preferred genre), prosaic social realism (my father’s style of choice), and academics in general. During college I discovered experimental, post-modern literature and theory. The realization that prose did not have to wander neatly through linear time and space, describing minutia in exacting detail was intriguing but I still had no desire to write.

Just after d was born the endless parade of plots, characters, situations, conversations and settings that my mind has created since childhood finally demanded an outlet. I cut my teeth on a few children’s stories, then started work on more adult projects. At first I was very shy about sharing my work, showing it only to a select few. And I was not at all inclined to pursue publication. In summer 2005 I completed Stark Raving Mad, my first full-length novel. I passed it around to a few friends and then undertook my quest for an agent… After wasting more than a year, I’m finally back to the keyboard and the notebook, assiduously working on a variety of projects—as always I have more ideas than time, it is much easier to think up these little books than to write them down.