APRIL 2007
No entries were posted this month.MAY 2007
"CKR” Diary Post No. 21, or “Dig” and pass it on
Monday, May 7, 2007
As you might have guessed (and damn if this isn't starting to sound like a broken record), I've made no significant progress on the manuscript since the last post. Among other things, marketing the book and preparing for my first booksigning on the 18th have taken distraction to new heights. But it feels great to be busy. And I haven't stopped imagining dialogue and narrative for CKR; the story is prominently perched on the top of my head, and I expect it will stay there until it's all over.
But lately, I've been giving just a little bit more thought to the screenplay than the novel. (You knew that was coming, right?) Especially at the end, where the story climaxes and the theme hits home.
The final scene of the movie will be slightly different than the book, but that's the way it goes. (Now that I've thrown myself into the process, I understand why.) Fortunately, the message will be the same, and I think it's a pretty good one. Maybe even the best one. Which means the music accompanying the scene has to be specific, yet still universal and emotionally powerful. That's a tall order.
It's been a long time since I heard a song that fit a moment so perfectly. But the song I added to my profile is all that, PLUS a bag of chips, an order of fries, an iced coffee, and a marbled chocolate cheesecake...from Copeland's Bistro in New Orleans.
I didn't upload it to the blog, because I didn't want you to be distracted from the words on the screen. So I'll ask you--make that BEG you--to look it up when you get a few minutes and listen to Incubus' Dig. Please. Or, if you'd prefer something visual, watch the video. Then consider adding the song to YOUR playlist, and pass it on.
Too few of us recognize the importance of unconditional love and acceptance. This life is all we have, people! These friends, these times, these words are IT. Are you hearing me?!
You won't be passing this way again.
We build too many walls. Impose too many conditions. Why must there be constant judgment? Constant fear? Constant hate? Constant war? Why can't we accept that we are ALL both gifted and faulted? We ALL have beauty. We ALL have pain. We ALL have something that digs at us.
Why can't we just dig each other ... and pass it on?
“CKR” Diary Post No. 22
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Fifteen down, thirteen to go! Yup, I'm over half-way through the re-write, and I'm LOVING every word of this thing. A first-person perspective has made such a difference! Randy, if you're out there, my friend--THANK YOU! for prodding me to do this and for giving me High Fidelity by Nick Hornby so I'd understand what you meant.
But, don't worry, I'm not just going to tell you about it. I brought some stuff to share:
CHAPTER CLIP:
After a farewell that wasn't so much a goodbye as it was a tentative wave as I fled, I took a cab from the restaurant parking lot back to the hotel. I'd thought it curious that no one followed me out, although it was fine because I hadn't left to get attention. That was a chick thing. But, at the same time, and because it was a chick thing, I'd expected Micah to chase me. At least to ask where I was going or if I was coming back. When she didn't, I was not only disappointed, I felt like a first-class tool.
After a farewell that wasn't so much a goodbye as it was a tentative wave as I fled, I took a cab from the restaurant parking lot back to the hotel. I'd thought it curious that no one followed me out, although it was fine because I hadn't left to get attention. That was a chick thing. But, at the same time, and because it was a chick thing, I'd expected Micah to chase me. At least to ask where I was going or if I was coming back. When she didn't, I was not only disappointed, I felt like a first-class tool.
CHAPTER CLIP:
My tongue cramped once, but I worked through it. And, as it turned out, I hadn't forgotten a thing. / Score one for Ted.
My tongue cramped once, but I worked through it. And, as it turned out, I hadn't forgotten a thing. / Score one for Ted.
CHAPTER CLIP:
...the roar of the crowd was drowned-out by the thunderous engines as the cars sped by in a blur. / "There's nothin' like that sound," Alex hollered once the rumble subsided. / "You said it," Jimmy agreed. "I don't know about you guys, but it's why I keep coming back." / And with my friend's admission, I suddenly understood. / The annual Drunkfest to Daytona, as Kate had called it, had started as a way for three teenagers to escape the watchful eyes of their parents. Granted, my interests twenty-three years ago were limited to scoring pussy and getting high to Van Halen. But add being the son of a well-to-do businessman (at the time) and it seemed obvious to me that I wouldn't fit in with a group of people known for their love of country music, trucker movies, Burt Reynolds, and Skoal. Since then, my knowledge of racing hadn't progressed far beyond the Beeline Highway and Mom's old Datsun hatchback, but I'd learned I wasn't as different from the tribe of NASCAR as I'd originally thought. Because, from the first lap of our first race, the unexpected power of the combined engines racing 'round the track overwhelmed and hooked us. There truly was no sound—no vibration, no feeling—like it anywhere and, over the next few hours, we'd only hear it one hundred and ninety-nine more times.
...the roar of the crowd was drowned-out by the thunderous engines as the cars sped by in a blur. / "There's nothin' like that sound," Alex hollered once the rumble subsided. / "You said it," Jimmy agreed. "I don't know about you guys, but it's why I keep coming back." / And with my friend's admission, I suddenly understood. / The annual Drunkfest to Daytona, as Kate had called it, had started as a way for three teenagers to escape the watchful eyes of their parents. Granted, my interests twenty-three years ago were limited to scoring pussy and getting high to Van Halen. But add being the son of a well-to-do businessman (at the time) and it seemed obvious to me that I wouldn't fit in with a group of people known for their love of country music, trucker movies, Burt Reynolds, and Skoal. Since then, my knowledge of racing hadn't progressed far beyond the Beeline Highway and Mom's old Datsun hatchback, but I'd learned I wasn't as different from the tribe of NASCAR as I'd originally thought. Because, from the first lap of our first race, the unexpected power of the combined engines racing 'round the track overwhelmed and hooked us. There truly was no sound—no vibration, no feeling—like it anywhere and, over the next few hours, we'd only hear it one hundred and ninety-nine more times.
As you might have guessed, I've tried to put as much of my Daytona experiences into the chapters set at the 500. But you won't have to be a race fan to appreciate the scenes and the trouble Ted runs into while trying to enjoy his weekend.
I can't tell you how GOOD it feels to be not only working on this book again, but flying through it. As we speak, Chapter 16 is open and sitting on my desktop, waiting for me to dive in. (You might recall I just started on Chapter 11 yesterday morning.) It's been months since I read these chapters, and I'm honestly surprised at the small amount of tweaking I've needed to switch them from third-person to first. Maybe I'll make my self-imposed June 11 deadline after all?
I'm working one more day on the book this week (Thursday), then I'll be changing hats from writer to event planner-slash-speaker to prep for Friday's book launch and signing. But I'm trying not to think about it too much. When I do, I get nervous, which is why I chose this week to focus on CKR again--it's kept my mind off the big event. Sneaky, huh? And you thought I was just jonesing to write again.
Well, there's that, too.
I have no idea if I'll be able to post anything else on the blog this week, but I'll do what I can. Deadline for CLOSER #45 is looming--I think I'm down to 3 days!--and my house looks like my kids have been in charge (which they have), so there are a few things waving red flags for my attention. You guys should know, though, that you hover at the top of my To-Do list every day. I might not get here as often as I used to, but you're in my thoughts always. This has been a phenomenal ride, and few things give me more pleasure than sharing it with you.
P.S. Don't bother listing the "few things" that give me more pleasure...I'm sure we all know what they are.
(to be continued...)
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