The Little Engine That Could Not

'nuff said!

The Little Engine That Could Not

Story is NOT the by-product of magic! Part two.

In an earlier post, I railed against Michael Chabon's statement, "take everything back to zero as long as magic and its by-product, story..." My contention was, and remains, that story is not magic's by-product.

I was reminded of this last night after reading the following in Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress.

 "This fellow Balzac is a wizard...He touched the head of this mountain girl with an invisible finger, and she was transformed, carried away in a dream. It took her a while to come down to earth."

Thus was the reaction of a young Chinese woman, living in a remote village, after reading a passage from Ursule Mirouët by Balzac. I offer this as further proof that story is not magic's by-product.

Story is NOT the by-product of magic! Part two.

Finished my second novel!

Well, I did it. I have finished the manuscript for my second novel entitled, Nanashi and the Sword of the Fallen Star. Set in ancient Japan, the story weaves together several themes from Japanese mythology and is aimed at readers 9-12 (though discerning adults will enjoy it as wel)l. Here's a draft version of the query letter:

When Nanashi was five, she was the prettiest girl in her village – then came the night the Golden Dragon caught the falling star. As she watched the spectacle in the night sky, a glowing flake broke loose from the meteorite. It burnt the young girl’s cheek, leaving a horrid scar, tough and red like the skin of the Japanese ogre known as the Oni. 

Ten years later, the girl who grew up enduring taunts of “Oni Face” sets out to find the Dragon, hers to torture and execute. Then she encounters Okami, the Great Gray Wolf. He brings news of a startling augury linking her to the Sword of the Fallen Star, the very sword forged from the meteorite that burned her face. In Nanashi, the aged and careworn wolf sees a soul consumed by wrath and self-loathing; he offers his friendship, as well as way to find the sword, hoping to sway her from the path of vengeance.

Meanwhile, there is another tortured soul who wishes to inflict suffering upon the vainglorious Dragon. It is the embittered Man Crow. In his possession is the Dark Blade, a merciless weapon forged with but one purpose: to challenge the Sword of the Fallen Star in a contest to determine which is the better sword.

As for the Golden Dragon, ten years have passed since he inexplicably went missing. Soon he will return with, of all things, a cure for the girl’s scar. His intentions, however, are hardly noble and the gift he brings – that of beauty reclaimed – might be one the Girl with the Oni Face will forever regret.

Finished my second novel!

The Ultimate Haiku

From Facebook

'nuff said!

The Ultimate Haiku

Two Novels in One Image

From: Ads of the World.

Two Novels in One Image

Agents Vs. Zombies

Here's an exciting new game, available on both iPhone and Android.

A deadly new virus is turning writers into the worst kind of zombie imaginable; the kind that writes query letters! It's up to you, the intrepid literary agent, to overcome this assault! You`ll need to think fast and stay calm as you deliver your rejections, one bolt at a time, with your trusty crossbow. Remember, aim for the head, not the writing hand!

Agents Vs. Zombies

Why not try a book?

From DOGHOUSEDIARIES!

Why not try a book?

Of Lou Gehrig, Kate DiCamillo and Yamashiro Tomoe

Argh! The Demon is greatly annoyed. Why?  He came upon a list of the Top 100 Speeches as deemed by scholarly experts. Guess what? Lou Gehrig's farewell speech was...well...it was dissed! It ranked  #73 on the list. 

The Demon wishes no disrespect to the other speeches rated higher, but c'mon! With a mere 277 words, Lou Gehrig established a heartfelt connection with 61,000 fans at Yankee Stadium and with many more for generations to come. Two hundred and seventy-seven words - that's all it took.

And that recalls an earlier post on this blog about the power imbued in the economy of a few words:

I found the following observation (confession?) from Kate DiCamillo at The Pippin Insider: "Telling stories is hard work; the stories that I like, the ones that seem most powerful to me, have an ineffable quality of one word seeming to do the work of ten words."

One word for ten? Sounds daunting, eh? How about one word for a hundred? Let flash back to an earlier post of mine where I asked whether it was possible for one hundred words to the job of ten thousand. (i.e., a ratio of one word for one hundred).  Here’s what I wrote:

Is it possible for one hundred words to the job of ten thousand?

I've been contemplating this question since reading a wonderful short story, Bog Rhubard Shoots, by Yamashiro Tomoe (it's from the book, Reflections on the Way to the Gallows). It tells the tale of Mitsuko, a young Japanese woman, who, in the 1940s, was sent to prison for her involvement in the left-wing political movement (as was her husband, who was assigned to different prison).

Under the terms of her conviction, Mitsuko "could write only one letter of postcard length each month. Even though the frequency and length of the letters were limited, they still had to be checked over by four persons: the guard, the chief guard, the chaplain, and the supervisor of the guards. Under these circumstances, one hundred words had to do the job of ten thousand in the letters that Mitsuko and her husband exchanged. If a letter written under restricted conditions failed to pass the censors and was stamped 'To be handed over upon release,' the letter itself would probably shed tears."

And one last thing: "...today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth." That's the line everyone associates with Gehrig's speech. But there was another line: "When you have a wife who has been a tower of strength and shown more courage than you dreamed existed, that's the finest I know." That's the line that sends shivers up my back. It's why his speech is finest I know of.

'nuff said!

Of Lou Gehrig, Kate DiCamillo and Yamashiro Tomoe

An exercise in first lines

Apparently, the first line of a book is of great importance. It must be true: I read it in a book! Here are the results of my recent efforts at crafting first lines...

I once loved a woman who loved the Muppets.

He counted the bars as they went up, each like a giant meat hook mounted upside down, and wondered how many it would it take to do the job.

This is a story of three crows gathering in the moonlight, fireflies dancing by a stream, and dust, more beautiful than stars, floating in the sunlight.

If you had to write a story to save your life, what would you write?

It is Thursday and I am blind.

Once there was a rose and a sword.

I must have been born with a broken heart; that is the only possible explanation.

Time travelers are dicks, destiny is for douchebags and eternity ain't necessarily forever.

Deep in a cavern, far beneath the Black Mountain, the demon woke from his nightmare.

Above a mountain glade a procession of Black Butterflies followed the trail of blood, dark and shiny upon the grass, towards the stricken, snow-white deer: in their wake, the Golden Dragon followed.

An exercise in first lines

Anticipating Kate DiCamillo's Next Book

(DISCLAIMER: I am in a very silly mood. So silly, I cannot be held liable for any logical fallacies or literary mayhem herein.)

               rising..............an

       tiger                            elephant

A                                                      crashing 

                                                                        down!

                                                                          WHAT NEXT?   

I just read, The Tiger Rising by Kate DiCamillo. I am currently reading The Magician's Elephant, also by Ms. DiCamillo, in which an elephant comes crashing down through the roof of an opera house. Tigers rising and elephants crashing down, oh my! 

What can we expect in Kate DiCamillo's next book? Perhaps something lateral? Here are my less than lucid speculations:

Sideways Monkey:  Jack gets cold feet during his bachelor party and suffers a concussion due to an unseemly incident involving a motorcycle helmet.  When he wakes, Jack discovers he is all alone in the world except for Miles, an enigmatic, Merlot hating, pot bellied monkey. Together they learn valuable lessons in friendship and how to stage a fake automobile accident.

The Night of the Reclining Giraffe: Ten year old Izhtak Schwartz hates Passover, having nearly gagged to death on Matzoh when he was seven. Like an Easter Bunny running for his life, Izhtak flees and through pluck, along with assistance from a clever plot device, makes his way to Africa where he meets a sarcastic, pagan-worshiping giraffe. Izhtak takes a liking to the long neck's  embittered view of the world and nicknames him, Groucho. After many life-threatening, yet hilarious adventures, the boy has an epiphany about  Passover. In the story's stirring climax, he teaches Groucho the Seder and the importance of reclining while they eat. Together they recline, eat Matzoh and imbibe of Manischewitz wine as wild hyenas and meerkats  serenade with a Hip Hop version of Hava Nagila. 

The Raven's Lateral: Billy, like his older brother, Biff, wants to quarterback the Ravens football team in the Chincoteague youth football league. Alas, Coach Parker Derm, the crippled yet vibrant gridiron mastermind, has installed a new trick play requiring the deft and precise execution of the lateral pass. Alas and alack, for Billy, no matter how hard he tries, is unable to master the deceptive pass! Then, one night, a friggin' raven taps on his bedroom window and teaches the aspiring quarterback to look beyond the hash marks.

Anticipating Kate DiCamillo's Next Book

Will I Feel This Way By Spring's End?

This poem, from Yosa Buson, caught my fancy!

The end of spring--
the poet is brooding
about editors.

(Translated by Robert Haas)

Will I Feel This Way By Spring's End?

Supreme Court Rules Predicates Unconsitutional

By Gram Marian, Disassociated Press – 1 hr 52 mins ago

WASHINGTON, DC - The Supreme Court has just ruled that predicates are unconstitutional. The case, Ms. Pelling v. Panda Ring, was the first grammar related case ever heard before the court. In an unanimous decision, the court stated, “We are a nation of laws, not men. Therefore, laws, not predicates should govern our behavior, despite the beliefs of certain well-meaning, but overly educated citizens. The Rules of Grammar cannot be allowed to stand above the Constitution, even within the confines of a sentence…”

In a related decision, the court voted 5-4 in favor of eliminating the use of ellipses…

Supreme Court Rules Predicates Unconsitutional