You may know I’m rarely critical of most others’ writing efforts. That’s largely because I readily appreciate how difficult it is to pen fiction. Moreover, I never offer book reviews here because I believe they are best left to any author’s truly interested readership or to reviewers/ bloggers who review books regularly.
And I’ve got my own books to write, and being “pulled” away from your own work is any author’s biggest problem. Yet keeping an eye generally on “big success” does supply us with evidence for what must be considered the basis for that “success.” However, naturally – as with Fifty Shades of Grey – we may also not always like what we see.
Where am I headed with this? I watched another episode of The Affair. If you like the program, and choose to read on, please understand I’m looking at it only from my (one) writer’s perspective. ;-)
Everything can seem fine. Daily work and life proceeds. We may feel we’ve got it *mostly* under control….
“But then you come walking into a room, and my mind goes somewhere else.” ~ James (in Frontiers)
Indeed and then we’re jolted into reflecting. Amidst all of the hundreds of postings to date here, I have perhaps inadequately acknowledged what’s ultimately most important. Allow me to do so unambiguously.
Recently, we watched the first episode of The Affair. It’s a drama from the U.S. that got fantastic reviews. It stars two British actors pretending to be Americans, and the program revolves around the fact that they are having an, well…. I think the title is rather a giveaway.
I’m not sure what I think of it yet. I’ll keep watching it. My initial take is it seems to be mostly about how to concoct a drama that justifies extended sex scenes.
No shock that, really. After all, it’s from cable’s Showtime.
Yesterday, I had a terrible headache which virtually incapacitated me all day. I’m not 100 percent my old self yet, but I finally feel a bit better this morning. I can at least function. (When I get a headache, I can become very ill.)
The tweets that went back in response were about what you might expect. However, one of them included an old canard. It’s hard to tell if the tweeter, apparently a man, was joking; he may well have been trying to be lighthearted. The sixth tweet down: it’s about women who (apparently use too much) perfume and don’t shave (under their arms):
Allowing for its age (it’s worth always bearing in mind it’s 40 to 50 year old writing), it’s an excellent book overall so far. However, aspects of Remembrance are not anything I would want to emulate. Even more so than with The Winds of War, I’m seeing certain things style-wise in Remembrance that no novelist should really want even accidentally to replicate.
We have friends coming to stay over tonight. (Don’t smirk. I have friends!) Although you may see me on Twitter, I’m planning on taking a couple of days’ breather from here. And it’s the May Bank Holiday weekend, too.
I should be back Tuesday. I’ve been doing lots of non-blogging writing all week and I’m a bit tired. I need to re-gather my “blogging” thoughts. (Again, no smirking, “He has thoughts?”)
If you’ve not been here before, or even if you have, please feel free of course to meander around the site – sort of like an “open house.” ;-) I’ve had what I consider some decent recent posts. If you would like some quick “direction,” you might want to start with one of these:
“James” had not been a international traveller. He had never been to Europe until he visited France for the first time at age 29. Subsequently, he would find himself in various encounters with other Americans in Europe.
“We’re from L.A.,” she said. “My husband works in Paris, and we’re on vacation. He had to go to the States for a time by himself. I thought the boys would like to see Normandy.” She concluded as one of her sons gestured restlessly that he wanted to sit on her lap and she waved a hand trying to dissuade him.
Inspired, I sensed afterwards, by my grandfather memories that I’d posted in the morning, I spent the day yesterday smashing through the opening chapter to Distances. Although it’s not long (but none of my chapters are really “long”; I dislike “long” chapters), it’s – I believe – on target.
Textured. Sentimental. Sharp.
A new character also zooms in, offering the novel’s very first line.
I know this post appears much later in the morning than usual. However, when you have an unexpected light bulb go off over your head you have to drop almost everything and get the idea into your manuscript as quickly as possible. If you don’t, it may vanish forever….
Having done that, on to this post. Yesterday saw me pass 40,000 words. So with Distances looking daily more and more like an actual book, rather than just bits and pieces, I took a break and decided to have another mess around with a potential cover. That’s always fun: