Hello and welcome, reader.
There are desperate men about,
and times are hard for sane ones, but just as pirates chase freedom and make no
bones, so writers chase stories and leave no doubts.
And for a change in these parts, today’s
note is about the craft of writing.
For those who’ve been around me a
while, you know it’s a topic I try my best to avoid. That’s because, as I’ve
said many times, I think it takes an arrogant prick to write, and a pretentious
one to blab about it. And I feel the same way about each of the ‘look-at-me’
gigs I’ve practised in my time, so don’t get your writer’s panties in a knot.
This one, then, is for those
needing to confirm or deny what’s going on within the pages of my various
novels. Either before or after reading them. But as is usual with these posts,
it’s mostly a look inside the writer’s melon.
Anyway, as far as I know, work is
joyful only for those who love doing it. And I’m one of those sonsabitches
lucky enough to love doing what he does, too. So, I try not to brag about it.
Because I know everyone isn’t so lucky. And I was raised not to crow.
But I‘ve surely loved my work. Not
only that, but since taking up with the pen, I’ve spent far too much time studying
the craft instead of writing, as well. I began writing as a child, you see, and
made my earliest attempts at poems and stories by age seven. Through my school
years and into early adulthood, I was only rarely published, but wrote on most
days that found me sober enough to do it.
Then, and for many years after
getting off the bottle, I struggled with it, working mostly at night or on weekends.
In those days, constant failure meant resigning myself to the drudgery of a nine-to-five
routine. Sadly, I could not tame the terrible urge to pursue my dreams. And so,
I’ve been forced to live by them since giving up the safety of a well-paid
straight life decades ago.
Because of which, most times, you
find a party carrying on here, and not so much as one note of surrender. But
this is old news, you say. And rightly, too. For once again, I digress.
The craft. That which I’ve chased
since childhood. Nowadays, printed on the pages of the novels published in
these later years of my life’s long pursuit. Yet even now, I’m not sure if my
take on it is clear enough for those who might wonder about such things. That’s
despite staying true to a small and repeating set of themes, motifs, and
symbols throughout my work.
Of course, to the writer, it’s
plain.
Here, within my craft, recurring
motifs have been a lifelong focus. Some say to the detriment of the work. Well,
that’s because I long ago committed to the literary concept of a suite of unifying
themes and symbols around which to build my fiction.
Along with an interconnected
worldview and shared characters, motifs help create a literary and emotional link
between the novels. Likewise, those based on culture, weather, travel, drinking
and gambling often reoccur, and figure greatly in my novels to support their mood
and concept.
Yet another fancy literary trick
used here is called leitwortstil, which means to repeat a word or phrase
throughout a novel to support a concept or theme. Though sometimes confused
with a hangover from my years of songwriting, it’s another often used technique
found in my novels.
Not only a hard device to master,
but a subtle tool to appreciate, leitwortstil is perhaps better at supporting
concepts than making statements. And, for better or worse, a sharp eye soon
reveals my regular use of it.
When it comes to symbols, meanwhile,
I’ve been criticized for either playing too subtle, or going overboard. Once
again, however, my approach to them is based on supporting the concept of unifying
themes that drive my fiction.
Among others, in my novels, these
often include things like nature, home, dogs, cars, boxing, baseball, and music. Beyond
their utility as plot devices, symbols are also used to reinforce and support themes
found within my fiction.
When speaking of themes, however,
my novels often take the reader on a dark ride. While leavened with a particular
style of noir humor, I’ve been told, too many times, that few others share the
author’s weird sense of ha-ha.
But thematic concerns receive great
effort, here. Among others, concepts like good versus evil, the
birth/death/rebirth cycle, patriarchy, and universal racism are touched upon.
While statements about things like the question of science versus religion, the
battle between the individual and society, and the dangerous power of love, are
also made. I think each adds texture and depth to my novels.
Because to me, the best fiction
shows life as it was. It’s where we share our philosophy and store the memory
of our many people’s history. And it’s why writers use themes, motifs, and symbols,
and sometimes, even leitwortstil. To better speak not only between the lines
but also across the ages.
Around here, when writing, it
most often feels like I’m losing parts of myself unknown to me. If not, it must
be the actual pieces of my mind. I wonder often, too, nowadays, if it’s not a
form of what many Indigenous peoples in places around the world believe, and
the words are part of whatever makes up the man writing them down.
I know there seems less of me,
afterwards, than there was before starting. Every time I do it, too. Though,
and sadly, it doesn’t seem to be the kind of stuff that shows up on a scale. Of
course, it’s also true I feel that way about most things. As I’ve said here and
elsewhere, many times before, whatever we are, that’s what we spend living.
By now, I’ve done a share of it,
too. And mostly, I’ve loved the one I led. Despite never quite living up to the
expectations placed upon me by either myself or others. It’s been tremendous fun.
No matter the number of lumps taken along the way. Not only that, but I’m good
with all of it, too.
Mistakes? I made far more than my
share of them. However, I’ve also either made or offered amends to those who
had them coming. Decades ago, in most cases, but lately, too, in others. Though
plainly, some chose not to accept them. C’est la vie, friends. Because, as I
see things, the job here is holding up my end, and that’s all.
Thus, like any pirate captain
worth his salt, I accept only absolute loyalty. Despite a well-earned rep as an
uncompromising mofo. And to those that keep it go the spoils. Sometimes we win,
and others we don’t, but together we sail, and share alike in whatever the
voyages bring.
For though often ruthless, mostly
cold as ice, reputed to be mainly faithless, and claimed to sometimes be untrue
even to myself, I tend to stick with those that stuck with me. You can check
the liner notes, and the too-rarely published acknowledgements, to see for
yourself. It’s a wild bunch and a small circle.
I owe everything to those people,
and the luckiest man is me.
And now, to reward your patience
with me, a secret. Nowadays, I think of you in a similar sort of way, reader.
But a little different, too, so don’t panic. Anyway, if anyone asked me, I’d
say it’s complicated. Because I’m a weird man who makes weird stuff, lives a
weird lifestyle, and has a weird way of thinking about a weird bunch of things.
And I don’t want to tar anyone else with such a weird brush.
But you’re here. In a small but slowly
growing number, most times. Which makes me think we must share at least a few
weirdness-es. Is that a word? I’m not sure. But as it’s now been added to the
dictionary of the word processor here, you know what I’ve decided.
Let’s call it more of my weird.
Here’s another example of it.
With third draft revisions now complete, there’s a new TFP novel on the way. Once
a few weeks of editing, proofreading, artwork, setup, and distribution details
are taken care of, that is. And yes, after putting in another six weeks of scalpel
work on the latest manuscript, I’m whipped, in case you’re wondering.
But pleased and relieved and
excited, too.
After a little time to put my
head back together, I’ll get to work on that list of remaining tasks. I’ll also
keep you posted here regarding a publishing date, and pre-release ordering
information, too.
Thanks for being here. And for
sharing this with anyone you think might be weird enough to enjoy reading it.
- - TFP
January 28, 2023
