Wanted: Humidifier for Dry Text

I spent about an hour working on VFO tonight. I'd been doing background work, but today I actually wrote a scene. I've discussed this scene with Rex already, and I think it has potential to be a nice, mysterious beginning. As it stands, though, the passage is about 500 dry-as-dust words. I'll come back to it and try to make it a bit more vibrant.

Still, it's nice to get this thing going after about a million false starts. I think it just needed more time to percolate. I'm not saying it's ready for drinking yet, to continue the metaphor, but we're closer now than we've ever been.

I Didn't Even Have to Use My AK . . .

I'd have to say it was a good couple of days.

My goodness, it feels good to sit down at the computer and write. Blogging is fun and all, but I'm not passionate about it like I am about fiction (as evidenced by this being only the fourth post this month). It has been sooo sweet. So sweet, in fact that I'm going to describe it to you.

DAY ONE:

I got a bit of a late start in the morning. Still working out the kinks in the schedule. Still, I sat down and worked on VFO. I actually sat down and worked on Vintage Furniture and Oddities for the first time in ages. It was all character background and concept development, but it was a lot of fun and it's pushing me in the right direction. I don't want to start a project like this without understanding my characters or having a decent plan as to where I'm going.

As an aside, I think that's been one of the problem's I've had with VFO. It started as a writing excercise I gave myself. I wanted to write 500 words and make up the story as a I went along. That became a problem once Rex Queems and I talked about doing VFO together. It was no longer a thing I could play with whenever I want and with no pressure. But those days are over! Developing the concept in more detail was nigh unto exhilerating.

Then I ate lunch.

After lunch, Day One took a downward turn. I worked for a couple of hours on the stuff I want to use for my MFA writing sample. HORROR. I couldn't write a word. "Come On, Casper" didn't flow at all. I actually tried my hand at a bunch of the stories I have unfinished on my laptop. Nothing. That was a discouraging afternoon.

DAY TWO:

I decided to do "Come On, Casper" in the morning this time, hoping that my mind would be a bit more fresh. What I didn't realize, though, was that the 'freshness' wasn't the issue. The issue was that I was so worried about theme and structure that I got stymied. I've been reading John Gardner's On Becoming a Novelist, and it really helped remind me that I was primarily doing this to tell stories. After that, a new direction for the story emerged and I worked happily through the morning.

Lunch again!

More VFO in the afternoon, and it just kept getting better. I got a handle on something that will be integral to the storyline; something that will provide direction and (I hope) suspense as the strip continues. Hopefully I'll be able to actually get to some of the writing soon. Anyway, day two was excellent.

DAY THREE:

Day three was a bit of a problem because I had to do some work this morning. That meant the morning session was out so we could get school and everything in.

And lunch.

The afternoon was truncated as well because I had a work meeting, but once that meeting ended I got right to it. I decided to go with "Come On Casper" rather than VFO because I wanted to keep yesterday's juices flowing. Happily, the story continued very well. I'm not cranking out tons of pages, but the story is moving along and I like the language and the direction (right now at least . . . ask me again tomorrow).

Tomorrow will be DAY FOUR. I'll miss the morning session again, but I'm looking forward to another couple of productive hours tomorrow afternoon. It'll be VFO, I think, so I can keep things moving.

Creating makes me happy. Doing that for a living . . . that would be a beautiful life.

Vintage Furniture and Oddities: The Sketches

I got the go ahead from 'Rex' so I'm going to post the sketches he's worked up for Vintage Furniture and Oddities.  It's good stuff, too.  He captures something about the characters so that, even when they diverge from my mental picture of the character, they work perfectly.

As you can see, the above picture features both Dale Stain and Esther Mayo.  Dale will play a large role in the story, but he is not one of the main characters.  He works with Esther, Lucy, Sam the Rook and others in order to prevent the villain, Big Box, from achieving his goals.

The second picture is Esther Mayo, the character through whom the action is perceived, at least in the regular prose version.  Esther is a bit aimless, but she basically wants to do right by people.  She gets dragged into the conflict of the story through now machinations of her own.

This handsome gentleman is Malcolm Gamble.  Gamble has yet to appear in portions of the story I've written, but he will play a big role.  He is an appraiser of fine furniture, but that means a bit more in the Vintage Furniture and Oddities than it does in our world. 

The last picture 'Rex' has sent me is of my favorite character in the whole story.  

Sam the Rook is a pretty cool character and 'Rex' captured him well in the drawing.  He's leaving the Vintage Furniture and Oddities store, looking alert and ready to throw himself into any challenge that comes his way.  That's Sam.

So you can see why I get excited when 'Rex' sends his sketches.  They're a pleasure to look at.

Vintage Furniture and Oddities, Part 2

Ages and ages ago I posted the first installment of a little thing I called Vintage Furniture and Oddities.  I intended to post more, but I never did.  Then, earlier today my brother called me.  He is a dang fine artist, and since he liked the little story he wanted to see if we could maybe put into a graphic novel, just for fun.  That was cool with me, and naturally it made me want to write a bit  more.  This installment isn't as dynamic as the first.  It shows how Esther and Lucy met, and also drops the hint of oncoming conflict.

*************************************

The bell over the door chimed as she entered the store behind Sam.  Dust particles floated in the sunbeams that stole through store windows; windows which were mostly obscured by dark, heavy furniture.  Esther rubbed her nose and sniffed away the itch brought on by those tiny particles.  Lucy was nowhere to be seen.  It was just her, Sam the Rook, and some old squatty man with thick glasses.  He ignored Esther and Sam, instead thumbing briskly through what looked like an old library card catalog.  Esther was surprised his stumpy fingers could move so quickly.  It seemed almost unnatural.  She squeezed Oliver's flag in her hand inside her pocket and wondered why she was there.

    "Why should I have ever listened to Lucy?" she thought.  "I knew she was a weirdo from the first time I met her.  But here I am."

   Her thoughts drifted back to Pak-Mart and the job that would probably not be there for her when she returned.  Her shift should have started twenty-minutes ago.  Esther thought of Lucy's grandmother and then of Lucy and, in search of some clue as to what was going on, she rehearsed their first meeting in her head.

*******************

            “So Gemma was your grandmother?” Esther began.

            “Yeah,” Lucy replied.  “I knew her health had been slipping for a while—”

            “But still.”

            “Yeah.”

            Esther remembered leaning on the conveyer belt in front of Lucy’s register and staring into her face, trying to gauge her emotion.  Instead she noticed Lucy’s exotic features; some mix of asian and African and plain ol’ white.  There was a tiny jewel in her nose and a definite sadness around her eyes, but mainly Lucy just looked burdened.

            “Um . . . She was a great greeter.  Your grandma.”

            Esther winced over her absurdly bad eulogy.

            “Thanks.” Lucy smirked.  “She talked about you a lot.”

            “Did she?”

            “Oh yeah.  ‘Esther’s a good kid,” she said, putting on a quavering voice.  “‘Needs some direction, though.’”

            “Sounds about right.  She talked about you, too.”

            “Really?”

            Esther remembered how Lucy’s eyes brightened.  She was embarrassed because Gemma had really not mentioned Lucy much at all.  It was just over the last couple of weeks that Gemma worked at Pak-Mart that she started talking about Lucy.  Nonsense mainly.  Lucy’s face remained expectant though, and Esther, failing to find a lie sputtered the truth.

            “It was a sort of a . . . joke, I guess,” she said, stroking her bone straight hair.  “She would tap her temple and say, ‘That Lucy, she’ll take over the family business.’  I guess she was kind of . . . going.”

            They were both silent.

            “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” 

            “No, thank you.”

            There seemed to be genuine gratitude in Lucy’s face, which was a shock to Esther.  Emboldened by the reaction, Esther told her the other thing Gemma used to say.

            “There was one more thing, if you want to know it.”

            “Sure! 

            “She told me, ‘Mr. Chalmers had his estate sale.’”

            If the gratitude had been a shock to Esther, it was nothing compared to the waves of emotion that crossed Lucy’s face.  Shock, panic, then terror hardening into determination.  Lucy reached across the conveyer and grabbed Esther by her blue smocked shoulder.  Her fingers dug in slightly.

            “She said ‘Chalmers?’” 

            “Yes, Chalmers,” Esther replied, swatting Lucy’s hand from her shoulder.  “I reckon you missed the big sale, though.  That was a few of weeks ago.  Sorry you missed your china, or whatever you buy at estate sales.”

            Lucy covered her face with her hands.

            “How did I not hear about Chalmers?”  she said.  “Dale.  I’m going to kill Dale Stain.” 

            “Yeah, sorry ‘bout your luck,” Esther said. She had been disturbed by Lucy’s behavior.

    "That's when I should have walked away," she thought.

      Instead she said, “I’ll tell you what though.  I’ll just give you what she gave me.”

            A few aisles away, a cash register chimed a sale.

            “She gave you something?” Lucy asked.  Her voice shook.  She was struggling to maintain control.

            “Yeah, a handkerchief with a bug stitched on it.  But seriously, it’s yours.”

            In a split second Lucy had switched on her ‘calm.’  She waved her hand.

            “No, she gave it to you.  It’s yours.  Just,” here the panic stirred the surface of her face again, “take care of it.  For Grandma.”

            “Deal.”

            A customer entered the line behind Esther.

            “I’m going to go,” she said.

            “Yeah.  Okay.”

             “Do you have any padparadscha?” the man asked.

            Lucy flicked off the light illuminating the bright number ‘12’ over her head.

            “I’m sorry sir, this lane just closed.”

*****************

   "Yep.  Totally weird."

  The sound of a door scraping a warped floor pulled Esther's attention up the stairs.  The upper landing was an exposed walkway, but it was just as crowded with antiques and knick knacks as the downstairs so Esther couldn't see what was going on.  Sam rose to his feet as Lucy rounded the corner and began to descend the stairs.

  "Got the girl and the flag.  Saw a truck."

  "Corundum?"

   Sam nodded.  Lucy hurried to Esther and hugged her.

  "Glad you're safe, girl."

  Esther extricated herself and eyed her friend.

 "Any reason why I shouldn't be?"

Vintage Furniture and Oddities

NOTE: I'm making a foray into fiction here. I've never posted any fiction here before because...well I just didn't. I thought that today, just for fun, I would write something up quickly and post it without much editing. The result is spotty, I think, but it's the beginning of a story that I think might be fun to write. I just might keep it going.

****************************************************

Esther Mayo didn't even have time to put on her shoes before Sam the Rook pulled his black and yellow Grand Am into her driveway. Her hands shot in and out of drawers, transferring essentials from their particleboard homes and into her bag. Esther wished Lucy had given her more warning than this. The call had only arrived a half-minute before the giant yellow jacket in the driveway, and now all she knew was that she needed to grab Oliver's Flag and climb in a car with a man she knew only by name.

And what was so great about the stupid flag anyway? It wasn't even a real flag; just a yellow patch of cloth with a grasshopper embroidered in the middle. And it was barely bigger than her palm. She crumpled Oliver's Flag in her hand and ran out the door. Her bag bounced on her shoulder as she rushed to the car and jumped in. Esther hadn't noticed the heat of the pavement until she sat down in the Grand Am's passenger seat. She turned the reddened soles of her feet toward her mouth and cooled them with her breath as Sam the Rook tore out of the driveway. Dust and pebbles from the disintegrating pavement outside her house fell from her feet onto the clean automobile carpet. The Rook didn't take his eyes off the road.

"Lucy never mentioned you before," Esther said as she stared at Sam. His eyes scanned the road repeatedly. He did not reply. Of course, Esther could see why Lucy wouldn't mention him. His stringy black hair fell in his face like Shemp Howard's, he had a beaky nose and his adam's apple poked out too far. On the other hand, his arms were long, lean and muscular, and his hands moved confidently across the steering wheel. Combining that with his focused eyes, Esther began to feel safe with him. Still, he didn't seem like the type of guy Lucy would be interested in. She looked a little older than him, but she was stunning and he was most assuredly not.

After around two minutes the Grand Am was off of Esther's residential road and onto the state highway. Sam sat back in his seat a bit and let his eyes follow a passing truck.

"Corundum Antique Market and Appraisers," Esther said, reading the words stenciled on the truck's side.

Sam the Rook glanced at her and applied his foot to the gas.

Ten more minutes passed and Sam the Rook spoke.

"Can I assume you got the flag, Mayo?" His voice was high and raspy.

Esther was startled by the broken silence. She quickly produced the yellow cloth and shook it beside his head.

"Right here."

"Put it away."

"Why?" she asked as she stuffed the Flag in her pocket.

"If Lucy wants you to know, she'll tell you."

Sam the Rook pulled off the highway and down a side road. Soon he parked his Grand AM in front of a medium sized store in the middle of a blank stretch of road. A few other cars rested in the parking lot, and Sam, surveying them, walked briskly toward the building, pulling on his jacket as he went. Esther followed him, fixing her eyes on the large chess piece stitched on the back of his jacket.

Sam the Rook.

As she followed him inside she read a hand painted A-frame sign that said, "Vintage Furniture and Oddities."