Et voila!

And so, I finished off the rough draft of a fanfic story tonight. It wasn't the one I'm supposed to be working on (MM), alas. But I don't care. I finished the draft! It's a remarkably short fanfic story for me, so once I got going and realized how close the end really was, I just pushed on. It was one of those times where I didn't let myself stop typing, just kept going until I had it all down.

The coolest thing was that this was mostly out of the blue writing. I've written nothing on this story for nearly three weeks, and the last session was a couple hundred words or so, that's it. But I got about 700 words last night, and tonight, another couple thousand and that was that. Story over.

Now, of course, it needs some major revisions, mostly to flesh things out, but I'm very happy with it overall. It's solid action and suspense and strategy and... tanks! Did I mention the tanks? Dig it. (train dodge) For such a small story, I packed a lot into it. I'm not sure it ever lets up.

And amazingly, I don't think it'll take long to do the second draft either; everything's there and in place. It's just a matter of immersing in the characters and running with it.

This is all build-up to kicking into gear on the second half of the POW novel. I worked out the next couple of scenes in it, so I'm basically ready to go on it. This just makes me bounce up and down in my chair. Cuz being stuck on it just sucked. Now, I haven't solved my bigger dilemmas, but each step forward might take me closer to the answer I'm looking for

Genghis Khan

Ever have those movies you see once and they stick with you? Genghis Khan was one. I saw it once sometime during early high school years when I was home with the flu and it was on tv during the long miserable day. I watched the entire thing, avidly. Could have been the fever. Could have just been Stephen Boyd's presence. Anyway around, it stayed with me. It never seemed to come on TV again and I haven't seen it in twenty-five years.

I just finally watched it again yesterday. The beginning was nearly exactly as I remembered it, Stephen Boyd as handsome and ruthless as I remembered, and then the main titles kicked in, and what I found I really remembered was the music. I couldn't have sung it to you in the interim years, but it was sitting there lurking in my memory ready to be recalled.

The rest of the film came back as I watched. Mostly Boyd's sections, naturally. He's always had a very special place in my heart. But I'd completely forgotten both Telly Savalas and Eli Wallach was in it. Eli Wallach amused me greatly. "Somehow I don't feel they've come to surrender." LOL! Unsurprisingly, I'd forgotten almost entirely about the girl. I remembered her at the end, standing by Genghis Khan, but that was about the extent of it. Didn't even remember the violence around her. This is one of the few movies I liked Omar Sharif in. The movie was still entertaining, had some good parts, beautiful scenery, great costumes, but was a bit shallow and bloated.

What surprised me the most, is that I've had a scene in my head, that's been associated with this movie forever -- and it wasn't in this movie. Er...um... if it's not here, where is it?

It was a rather gruesome scene. I've sort of always been cursed with having movie death scenes stay with me. Some of them scar me for life (like The Green Berets), some just sort of linger with me (like Lawrence of Arabia) and when I can't tell you anything else about the movie, I can tell you about those deaths. I thought Genghis Khan was one of those films. I distinctly remember at the end of the movie, them laying rug/blankets over a man and then riding horses over him until he was broken and dead. And I remember my mom saying how difficult it was to get horses to step on things. I couldn't actually remember who it was who got trampled -- I vaguely assumed over the years that it had to be Stephen Boyd, even though that never felt quite right. Which means that nasty trample death is in some other movie. Hmph. So much for my memory! Maybe it's from some forgotten Western? Or another historical epic?

The Naked and the Dead

Ta-da! I finally finished the book. Took me three months, but there were long sections of time where I read other books and didn't touch it at all. Then read the last 150 pages in the last two days.

Now I've wanted to see the movie since high school, mostly because the title fascinated me (seemed very illicit and Grown Up) and I knew it was WWII, and that fascinated me. Now, having read the book, I'm not so sure. I mean 90% of the book is people's thoughts and feelings. It's what's so good about the book (and also what made it so hard to read in anything but small doses -- it's hard being that close in someone's head through those kind of circumstances). How do you turn that into a movie? Without the thought processes, the actions become meaningless, the motives lost, the friendships that come and go in mere moments pointless. I mean really, this books takes 700+ pages to cover the set up and one patrol up a mountain and back. And there's also the flashbacks into each character's life before the war, from childhood to enlistment/drafted/whatever. You can't do that well in a movie.

SPOILERS from here down!!

Then coincidentally, I found this today in an unrelated search: Naked and the Dead movie snippet. Now that just makes me sigh. It's all wrong. The whole scene on the mountain staircase is riveting and shocking in the book, but they changed some key points for the movie and completely lost the charge from it. And, ahem, I see Hollywood can't bear to kill off a major character with one shot, dead and gone. Noooooo, they have to swap characters around instead. Grrrr. So, what happens to Wilson in the movie? He was far more interesting than Hearn ever was anyway. And that's one of the big problems here. They've clearly set up Croft as the "bad guy" and Hearn as the "good guy." Cuz Hollywood needs heroes and villains. It can't deal with a squad of guys who all get equal page time, who all have good and bad traits, each character as important as the next regardless of his rank. Noooo, that won't work in Hollywood.

I particularly don't like it because Croft was my favorite character, the one I most related to in the book. Naturally, he's not a bad guy to me. Sure, he's tough, he's ruthless, but that's only parts of him. To simply categorize him as a a nasty son of a bitch (which is clearly how he's being played in the movie) doesn't show the motivating factors, the fears and doubts, the fact that he can freeze in battle like the next man and how it haunts him, what completing a mission means. It doesn't show how close to collapse he is himself. He's very human.

When I read the book, Hearn was the guy I didn't like. He was arrogant and complacent at the same time, lacked the necessary experience. Exactly the kind of man I do not want leading a recon squad behind enemy lines. If Croft had led the patrol from the beginning, there would have been a different outcome.

What makes the book work so well is the non-judgmental contrast between the two men (all the men, really -- the characters are what make this book amazing), and how throwing a guy like Hearn into an established squad changes all the dynamics, undermines discipline, etc. But Hollywood can't do that, not easily.

I'll still watch this film if it ever comes to DVD, because I'll want to see just how much more they screw up. And I'll also want to see if Aldo can save any of the book's version of Croft in the movie version.

Organizing the library

Long overdue, as I've been living in the new house for 6 months now, but I finally started organizing the books. I had just emptied boxes any old which way onto shelves, just to get the boxes out of the house. Now's the fun part. And naturally, I'm finding all sorts of books I want to read. Or re-read. But I'm still (still!!) reading "The Naked and the Dead" and I have promised myself I won't start anything new until I finally finish it, no matter how long it takes. I've decided it's just so very very dense that I can only take it in small doses before I have to process and think and mull things over. The second half has been better than the first (took us half a book, but we're finally out on patrol and there's some action... yeah, I'm shallow, but I need action in between everything else) and I'm really enjoying it now, it's just no popcorn read, that's for sure! Oddly, I think my favorite bits are the flashbacks, and that's because of his choice in observations of the people. Very fascinating.

Absence of the muse does not make my heart grow fonder

But interestingly, the story I most want to work on after a break from writing is the broken POW novel. That fascinates me, that despite the fact that I can't figure out the critical missing pieces that would let me finish it, it still compels me. It haunts me nights, the voice of the protagonist so clear. Now if only the other lead would be as forthcoming. Ciphers I don't need.

As a concession to that driving need to write the book, I tried appealing to muse#2 to come back and drop me some hint. I've all but given up on him, but that's typical for our rocky relationship. However, the other muses are no help, so it's back to #2. Maybe that will appeal to his ego. We'll see how things fare.

what I do when I'm not writing

Of all my passions -- and I have many -- opera tops them all. Movies, books, writing, film scores, Combat!, etc. They all pale next to my love for opera. Specifically, Italian opera, and of my favorite Italian composers, Puccini takes the prize. I love Verdi almost as much -- it's nearly a tie half the time-- but Puccini still comes out on top.

So, it's probably rather surprising that I know next to nothing about him other than which operas he wrote in what order, and when he lived. This surprises me even more, because my sister and I spend hours and hours dissecting his operas, and as a writer, I'm particularly fascinated by his "narrative kinks." The things that push his buttons and he brings in over and over. Because, of course, a lot of them are my own. Well, duh. They would be. His operas have always been the biggest inspiration in my life. The men I like come, the stories I like, the plot twist/reveals -- they all originate with Puccini.

I remedied my lack of knowledge this weekend and read a biography that my sister had. Interesting, but bland, and entirely lacking in what I wanted to know. So, I'm eyeing some other biographies. Need to find the local library, see what they have. But it did cover all the basics, why La Fanciulla del West is so different from Madama Butterfly, why it took him so long to write each opera, his relationship with his librettists (which is one of the things I want more of), the role Ricordi played in support and encouragement, and the basics of his personal life.

Hmmm

You're Siddhartha!

by Hermann Hesse

You simply don't know what to believe, but you're willing to try
anything once. Western values, Eastern values, hedonism and minimalism, you've spent
some time in every camp. But you still don't have any idea what camp you belong in.
This makes you an individualist of the highest order, but also really lonely. It's
time to chill out under a tree. And realize that at least you believe in
ferries.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

fanfic!

The first half of my Combat! fanfic "Murder's Melody" is up at Fruit Salad! It's so much fun writing these stories. This one I had to get out of my head so I could focus on DTD without mental straying. Unfortunately, it was no sooner edited and out, then I started work on another fanfic story, that I shouldn't be be working on, but it Won't. Go. Away. Made me realize something about what inspires me to write one thing and not another. Why one will latch on and not let go, and others just sit around. It's simple, really. It's emotion. Character emotion. It's got to dovetail/propel/illuminate the plot, and when the combo is just right, I whip through the story fast. DTD was like this, and one of the reasons I was able to write the novel so quickly. This new fanfic story I'm writing is the same. I need to write stories that make me ache (good and bad) and feel strongly with the characters while I write. Now, all my stories have that, it's more a matter of degree. Some have more strong emotion than others.

Which is why it rather fascinated me that Wyrdsmiths posted a link to this, that quite fits with my way of writing/revising, I was just never so logical about stating it this way. It goes with escalations.

Other than that... note to self on additional things that leave me incapable of thought: besides shirtless Aldo, he's not allowed to wear black shirts and a day's worth of scruff either. And that's in B&W. Devastating. Absolutely positively forbidden. I'm still ruined a day later.

Invitation to a Gunfighter

Watched this film tonight. Yul Brynner looks mighty fine. Of course, he always looks mighty fine. Such an intriguing person, Yul Brynner. This movie was okay. Nothing special, nothing bad, just middle of the road (and Bert Freed! Again! Man, he' s popping up in everything lately. Not that I'm complaining, it's just funny). It's a bit uneven, but there's some really nice understated stuff going on here that I appreciated. Leans towards being more of a "thinking" western, than an "action" western. Best scene was Yul teaching the town how to say his character's name. Priceless. And the scene where Yul plays the guitar oh so beautifully. Dig it.

But it got me thinking about Westworld, and the inevitable comparison to The Terminator. I love the first Terminator movie, I really do. But, ya know, Yul did it first, and he's still cooler and scarier at it than Arnold (or subsequent terminators) was. I love just about everything about Westworld, even if it does have that whole 70's thing coloring the film. The whole concept is awesome. I mean I want to go there, badly. And Yul... the best, damned icy-gazed, scary, will-not-stop, gunfighter robot evar. We're not worried about saving mankind here, we're simply worried about staying alive. Simplicity... always the best in fiction.

The Desperate Hours

1955, with Humphrey Bogart and Fredric March. Odd. This is a fine movie with a fine cast -- and I didn't like it. There's absolutely nothing wrong with this movie. It moves well, it's tense, the cast is great (Robert Middleton steals the show). I think I just don't enjoy watching panicky hysterical people very much. Makes me roll my eyes and say "get on with it already," regardless of the fact that that's how people do behave.

I think I also wanted it to be a very different movie. See, they sort of set up this vengeance thing with Bogart and a detective... and it never goes anywhere. And that disappointed me greatly. Of course, half of that is because the detective was played by Arthur Kennedy (a good guy for a change!) and his partner was my favorite Bert Freed. Naturally, I wanted a lot more screen time for the two of them. Naturally, I didn't get it.

Oh well. Good movie, just not my cup of tea.

Forward ho

I still can't figure out the bits of the POW novel that are hanging me up. So, time to wait for it to settle out on its own. I was working on fanfic, but as I'm stuck on one lousy all-important scene there too, I switched over to editing the final draft of DTD. Self-imposed deadline for completion is Feb 14th, the day I finished the first draft. A month should be plenty of time, as long as I work diligently every night. Finished chapter 1 tonight. 1554 words eliminated. Moved up the murder and changed the circumstances slightly. Added in some conversation I need for later. I'm pleased with how it's reading, and naturally, I'm already chafing to get to Chapter 4, and Reisher.... Me and my men.

Still frustrated

with the POW novel. There's something I haven't figured out yet and until I do, it's not working. Spent a bit of time today mulling and considering and rearranging and swearing at the damned construct. I understand what the problem is, I just can't find an answer. Has to do with how Mitchell's life intersects with the bigger picture, with the things that are going on around him. I need to work those out better, but I'm not there yet.

But I did have one spark -- I realized Mitchell is the wild card, and that opened up exciting and unexpected vistas for the end. I still can't quite see, but I'm getting closer.