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Vignette

Stack of BooksAlfie drove the black Audi up the hillside curves, through the grey dawn and springtime rain, stopping under the still-burning lamps of the Alta Mira. He got out and opened the passenger door.

She stepped out onto the quiet street, hair wild from the damp, portfolio of photos under her arm, and saw her ex standing at the curb across the street. Sleepy-eyed, disheveled, he looked as if he’d just wakened from a dream.

She smiled, and that was all it took. He stepped toward her.

“I miss you.”

She retreated, eyes glancing, smile snuffed like a candle. “Don’t go there, or I’ll be lost.”

Alfie interposed himself–her guardian, her protector, her armor–“Easy, mate.”

Her footsteps echoed on the brick pathway. The ex watched as she ran up to the hotel, to her dark room, her photos, and her memories.

“Leave her be,” Alfie said as he got her camera bags out of the trunk.

“For years now, everywhere I go, all I see is the light.”

Alfie’s chestnut hair gleamed with droplets of rain. He flashed white teeth in a devil’s smile as he shouldered the bags.”I know exactly what you mean.”

The ex frowned. “Where is she going next?”

“San Francisco. Then Portland.” Alfie walked across the street to the ex and extended his hand. “We won’t see you there, will we?”

The ex looked at the offered hand, then reached out as well. Alfie’s hand was strong, broad, and warm.

“No. You won’t see me.”

“Thanks, mate.” Alfie smiled again and winked. His leather soles scraped on the asphalt as he turned and walked to the hotel.

The ex watched him go, watched him toss his car keys to the valet, watched him go inside.

The ex sighed, smelling the fresh, rain-washed air. He put his hands to his face, scrubbed away his tears, and looked around at the newborn morning.

The light was beautiful.

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Product of inverse clustering, 23Apr13

Write If You Find Work

If you say the word “gullible” very slowly, it sounds like “oranges.”

Did you try? Did you even think about trying? Then I’ve got a guy who wants to meet you.

I heard about this guy over at Ms. Vivienne’s Process of Elimination blog, and I thought she was making it up.

She wasn’t.

His name is Braco. One name. Just “Braco.”

[Make sure you pronounce it correctly. Just as Sade throws in that lateral lisp and an “r”, this one-name wonder has a Slavic twist to his moniker. It’s pronounced “BRA-tzoh”…like matzoh with a bra.]

Anyway, Braco is a gazer.

Yup. He gazes. That’s his job. That’s his profession. That’s his calling.

And (for a nominal fee), Braco will gaze…at you.

Sorry. I just got all shivery there for a minute. Continue Reading »

Mahonia after rain….and we’re stopping.

When I was a boy, I walked to school. From Greenfield Avenue down the Miracle Mile, onto 4th Street, stop for a moment under the vent at Bordenave’s Bakery to take in the scent of fresh sourdough, then on to H St, 5th Ave, and West End Elementary. It was just under a mile, but it seemed a long way to my 5th grade legs.

When I graduated to 7th grade I switched to Davidson Middle School, down on Woodland Avenue. It was twice as far (a mile and a half away), but I walked there, too. My parents didn’t know that I walked all that way; not until one day, halfway through the 8th grade when I came home soaked to the skin, having gotten caught in the rain. All that time, they thought I had been taking the bus. Continue Reading »

Kurt R.A. GiambastianiRenowned author Dan Brown has a new book, and it is therefore open season for critics, professional and amateur alike.

But I’m going to leave that to others, especially Michael Deacon of the Daily Telegraph, who did it better than anyone in his pastiche of the Brownian “style.” Really, go read it, but don’t drink coffee while you do so. And don’t pass by the top comments, either, one of which gives us the neologism “blort”–the perfect one-word replacement for “spit take.” If you have time, also check out the Telegraph’s “20 Worst Sentences from Dan Brown.”

The pastiche is easily the funniest piece this side of Chuck Lorre’s vanity cards. Reading it aloud reminded me of similar sessions with “The Eye of Argon” and Atlanta Nights by Travis Tea. (If you’ve never heard of the latter, let me know and I’ll let you in on the history.) The “20 Worst” will make you simultaneously laugh and cry that such sentences make it into a bestselling novel.

But as I said, I’m not going to dogpile on renowned author Dan Brown. Why? Continue Reading »

See Spot Run

Kurt R.A. GiambastianiSorry for this late post. I’ve spent the morning dodging trolls over in the LinkedIn writers’ groups. Oy vey. But while there, someone brought up a topic that actually interested me (until it submerged into troll-dom).

The topic was: big words. Or, more precisely, obscure words.

The poster was complaining about the word “chthonic.” Any of you know what it means, off the top of your head? Continue Reading »

Extended Metaphor #1

Kurt R.A. GiambastianiAs part of my natural writing exercises, I’ve been encouraging my right brain to “do its thing.” As a result, I’ve noticed  a growing number of metaphors and some interesting imagery creeping into my day.

Yesterday, I watched an interesting video about metronomes and a striking metaphor came to my mind.

The video shows 32 metronomes (for you non-musical types, they’re the little tick-tock timekeepers musicians often use to keep a steady beat), and the videographer starts them all out of synch. The sound is a chaotic rush of ticking, like a river of hazelnuts clattering downstream. Now, if the metronomes had been on a table or other solid, static surface, they would continue this way, but the videographer has put them on a moveable surface (it looks like a suspended sheet of foam rubber). As each metronome swings its arm and counterbalance, a tiny amount of its force is imparted to its neighbor. The result was fascinating.

It’s only 4 minutes long, and rather mesmerizing in its way.

Go. Watch it. I’ll wait. Continue Reading »

Two-Time Debutante

Kurt R.A. GiambastianiQuestion:

When is a “debut author” not a debut author?

I recently saw an ad for a new book by a “debut author.” Amazon was flogging this book hard, and the publisher had placed adverts in the trades and bought ad space on websites and magazines. Much buzz was being generated about this “debut novel” from a brand-new author.

Thing is…I’m acquainted with this “debut author.” I’ve met her a couple of times, at signings and readings. Signings for her books. Readings of her books. This author is a very nice person and a very good author–I’ve read her work and enjoyed it very much–but she is not a “debut author.” She’s just branching out, writing under a pseudonym.

Pseudonyms are a common practice in writing, and there are many legitimate reasons for using them.

  • An author doesn’t want to be directly identified. A pseudonym creates a buffer between the author and the reading public.
  • An author has failed with his own name, and his track record makes him the literary equivalent of “box office poison.” A pseudonym provides a fresh start with a clean slate.
  • An author has succeeded with her own name, in a specific genre, and her name is now associated with that genre; but now she’s branching out, writing in a different genre. A pseudonym allows her to “rebrand” herself, and write in multiple genres without confusing (and possibly alienating) her faithful readers. I mean, if the latest Stephen King book was filled with epic poetry, some readers might be pissed off (at least in theory).

But it is not the pseudonym that bothers me; not at all. It’s the publisher’s use of the “debut author” label. Yes, this is done all the time; yes, it’s a common marketing practice. There’s nothing illegal about it, certainly, but still, it bothers me. First, it is vaguely insulting. I mean, are readers so dumb that they can’t figure out that Stephen King’s latest (hypothetical) book, titled Odes to Mothers: A collection of epic poetry in the Gothic style, is probably not his usual fare?

It is also unethical, dishonest, and disingenuous. This isn’t a “new voice” in the literary world. In all likelihood, this author’s style is going to be similar to past works, regardless of genre or what name is on the cover.

And more importantly, what does this do to all the other, real debut authors? Does this cheapen their work in comparison? Does this harm their debut? Will people miss their book, in all the noise about this other “debut?” Will buyers think less of the title because the publisher hasn’t put the same kind of oomph behind it?

This is just publishing at its most cutthroat, at its most businesslike. It’s a marketing tactic, designed to maximize ROI, nothing more. It isn’t that the buying public is getting a lesser quality work; on the contrary, these ersatz “debuts” arguably provide something of higher quality than legitimate debuts, so the public is not cheated. But a person can be duped and not be cheated.

Why do we accept dishonesty, if the outcome is not harmful?

k