My Name is Larry Mike, and I’m a Writer: Writing is Like an Addiction Step Program

Me angry young man!

Many years ago, in another life, I attended counseling sessions to help me through a particular rough time. I attended both personal and group counseling.

The group counseling was more of a lecture setting than a "Share with the group setting", which I enjoyed because I'm a copious note taker plus I hate "sharing with the group". Even as a high school student, I hated "working in groups"--either I ended up doing all the group work because I was placed with a bunch of slackers or I was placed in a group whose members were just as arrogant and know-it-all as I, and we all know that a nuclear reaction occurs  when a bunch of teen-age arrogant, know-it-alls are all grouped together.
Truth be told: I preferred the slacker-moron group to the know-it-all group.

But, I digress.

Fast forward like a TiVO to today.

Actually, last week.

During Spring Break, I spent much of my time cleaning my writing room and organizing my files. (You can  see pics of that adventure here.) I was going through old files and throwing trash formally labeled as "important stuff" away.

I re-filed and organized other "important stuff" I am still too attached to.

I came across one folder of papers that were yellowed and written with a hurried hand in pencil.

The same advice given to me during a counseling session to help me keep my life somewhat organized and sane are just as good for writing a story.

One particular leaf caught my attention. Here's what is written on it:

Step 1--describe the problem

Step 2--describe the results you want

Step 3-gather information

Step 4-think of alternative solutions

Step 5-choose the best solution

Step 6-implement the solution

Step 7-evaluate the results; make necessary changes

Reading these seven steps, I thought, What are my writing notes doing in with my counseling notes? I need to post these on my wall to glance at as I write when I reach those moments of indecision or so-called "writer's block".

I posted the note to my notes wall just to the side of my monitor and in my direct line of sight.

The Wall of Reminders

During the past week, I've been glancing at what I've now labeled "Seven Steps to Writing." The more I've glanced at it, the more I was puzzled about the note's origin.

I went through my files again and pulled out the folder in which I had found the note--the folder with my counseling notes. All the sheaves within the folder were the same yellowed and wrinkled sheets of three-holed notebook paper, and all the notes scribbled upon them were in the same hurried pencil scrawl.

Just like the now labeled Seven Steps to Writing.

Then I had one of those Holy Cow! epiphany moments.

These Seven Steps were written during a counseling session and provided by my counselor as a guide to help me to get my life together, organize myself, learn how to evaluate and overcome problems I'd be facing, and, generally, be as happy as possible and not stress out so much about every little thing.

And the reason why I thought the Seven Steps were misplaced from my writing notes file is because these Seven Steps apply to any Writing Life situation--whether fiction, non-fiction, poetry, or essay--as well as any living situation I might face.

I laughed--one of these I get it! laughs when a Life Truth tickles my soul--and my eyes saw Life, the Universe, & Everything a bit more clearly.

I don't live what I write but I write what I live.

I've chosen the Speculative Fiction field as my particular brand, and I'm sure many think I indeed live in a horrified futuristic fantasy world.

I don't live in a horrified futuristic fantasy world.

But, I do use my writing to try to understand, to fix, to  explain my World through the elements of horror, science speculation, and the mythical elements of the Human Experience.

And the best way for me to accomplish this as a Writer is to follow these Seven Steps, which I've been doing instinctively since that life-changing counseling session.

Me so happy!

I just feel so happy having found concrete proof that I'm really okay with Life, the Universe, & Everything--which includes my Writing Life.

Fiendish Endeavors #1: Barmaglot & "Assassin"

The Mesoamerican feathered serpent god Quetzocoatyl is 1/3 of the inspiration for the Penteract trilogy

So, here's what's passing from my fevered mind to the letters at my fingertips on the keyboard and then jumping onto the screen sitting and smiling in front of me.

YA Fantasy Trilogy:

A Jabberwock of Penteract

Book One: Barmaglot Book Two: Bandersnatch Book Three: Beamish Boy

The idea has been floating around for several years and started off as a middle school novel inspired by Lewis Carroll's poem "The Jabberwocky".

During National Novel Writing Month, I took the original story and another fantasy I had outline and wrote the first three chapters of but didn't like and combined the pair into this present incantation. I produced the first book and am now maddeningly revising it into something presentable.

I'm hoping to have the complete first book finished by the time SCBWI comes around in Los Angeles next August.

I've got several chapters revised and am sharing what I've gotten on paper with a couple of critique partners, my wife, and a teaching colleague, and they have all been quite helpful.

I thoroughly enjoyed this series but I seriously disagree with his thesis.

Just this past week I had an epiphany as to what this story is about and, in a nutshell, it's simply "A Child's Guide to Good and Evil".

Although I enjoy His Dark Materials, I disagree with Phillip Pullman's world view, and A Jabberwock of Penteract is my answer to his thesis. 

I believe in the eternal soul of Humankind.

Quite a challenge, I know. But, dream big, or don't dream at all.

Along with the Mesoamerican feathered serpent god Quetzalcoatl, I was also inspired by the Dracorex and Stygimoloch dinosaurs.

The Stygimoloch has a skull cap and a shorter snout. This is the model for the Jammerwoch.

The Dracorex is the model for the Jabberwock clan of the Draig species.

Penteract has several species of dragons in the same way Earth has several species of "Great Apes".

One species, the Draigs, is anthropomorphic and stand eight-feet tall. Over the millenniums, Draigs lost their wings, their fire-breathing, and their tales, but they gained intelligence and creativity.

Draigs are divided into two warrior clans that are battling for supremacy of Penteract: the Jabberwocki and the Jammerwochi.

The Jammerwochi are distinguished by a bone skull cap protruding through their skin. The Jabberwocki have no such skull cap.

In my outlining and note taking, I describe the Draig species of dragons as a cross between Klignons, Berserks, and Men of the West (Lord of the Rings).

Other dragons included are more traditional; fire dragons and ice dragons; lindwyrm.

I've also created a small dragon that is the size and looks similar to a large butterfly but is a dragon in every sense of the word except for its size, the colorful rainbow gossamer wings, and the fire that it spits out like a flamethrower. It's called a Dragonfly, of course.

Three children--a 16-year-old boy and his two nine-year-old fraternal cousins (boy and girl) are thrust into the world by an iPhone app called Penteract, which the teen thinks is a game but is really a portal to Enia, the world where the continent of Penteract is located.

The kids are caught in the middle of a great war and don't know which of the two clans--the Jabberwocki or the Jammerwochi--they should fight for.

In fact, both leaders of the two Draig clans--Barmaglot of the Jabberwocki and Frumious of the Jammerwochi--believe Ethan Swain (the teen) is the Beamish Boy prophesied in an ancient religious text to end the genocidal war and bring victory to one of the groups. The prophecy leaves open as to which group the Beamish Boy finally sides with and leads to victory.

As if that weren't enough, Ethan learns that his two bratty and obnoxious twin cousins are not who he thought they were and are part of the prophesy as well.

While Ethan is trying to keep from being killed by either of the Draig clans, he's got to fight off his cousins who are out to destroy him as well for their own murderous reasons.

---------------------------------------------------------

"Assassin" -- a short story concerning Edimata Froths, a character from The Face Maker's Apprentice (see below).

At fourteen, Edimata is one of the best of the Sister Assassins.

The Sister Assassins are a quasi-religious group made up of girls from thirteen through nineteen. After nineteen, they leave the order to marry, become nuns, or stay on as adjunct teachers.

Although they are a legal organization, they are sometimes hunted down after they leave the order and are killed by revenge-seeking relatives and friends of those they have killed--which is also perfectly legal.

Killing a Sister Assassin is easier after she has left the order because they are forbidden by law and my sacred oath to use their acquired assassin's skills after they "retire".

This is why the Sister Assassins are heavily disguised and go by pseudonyms while they are a part of the order.

Mata Hari--Femme Fatale of World War I

The Sister Assassins are based on the Kunoichi . My visual image of a Sister Assassin is a combination of Mata Hari as played by the actress Famke Janssen.

Famke Janssen--Whom I've met. Check out her Wikipedia.org blurb and you'll find a picture I took of her dog Licorice

The Sister Assassins live by a strict moral code, the most important of which is "No contract is left unfilled." Although rare, a Sister Assassin may be contracted to kill a fellow Sister Assassin.

Edimata's latest client, a captain of the royal guards in the capital city of Gorod, is murdered. The telltale clues indicate the captain was killed by a master Assassin--or did Edimata kill her employer for some reason?

Edemata and her sister Assassins are modeled on the Kunoichi, Mata Hari, and Famke Janssen

Edimata must find the true Assassin as the Gorod royal guard, using the strength of its force, hunts her down to kill her without prejudice.

One of my objectives in writing "Assassin" is to combine fantasy with hardboil detective archetypes and motifs.

I began writing the short story to help me with setting, characters, and world view of The Face Maker's Apprentice. When finished and polished, "Assassin" will begin its journey of submissions through the world of fantasy magazines, both hardcopy and virtual, until it finds a home.

The Face Maker's Apprentice is another YA fantasy series taking place on the mythical world of Enia but on a different continent, Aisha.

The story concerns a young girl named Aydan from the time she is sold into slavery at ten by her parents until she finds her place in the world when she's twenty.

Edimata appears in this series, and I might find a place for her "Assassin" story somewhere. If not, I've got plenty for her to do as she hunts down Aydan, whom she's been hired to assassinate because Aydan is a threat to the ruling family of Gorod.

I'm working on the characters, settings, plots, and outlines for the three books the will be The Face Maker's Apprentice as I finish up Barmaglot.

I'll be blogging about my journey through Barmaglot--I have already--as well as post sections of "Assassin" for anyone who likes fantasy and hardboiled detective fiction.

Let me know what you think about either, and I'll reciprocate with anything you're writing.

See you on the bookshelves.

Take care,

Larry Mike Garmon

The Naked Writer 02: Goosing the Reader

Why are you reading this particular blog?

Was it the title?

Perhaps this blog is just one of many on your list, and you're looking for a few blogs about writing that appeal to you as a fledgling author or an experienced author like me who likes to be juiced every now and then.

Perhaps you were exploring the blog-o-sphere and came across the title The Naked Writer, giggled a little as you imagined a writer sitting butt-naked in front of his or her computer (hopefully not in a leather chair!), and then decided to read the blog for perhaps a titillating description of the aforementioned naked writer, imagining him to be Brad Pitt or her to be Angelina Jolie.



Well, I goosed ya! I've given you a big goose pinch on the arse side of your salacious intellect and, so far, I haven't gotten my face slapped across the blog-o-sphere.

The Goosed Ya Factor is at the heart of all good writing because the end result of all good writing is to be read by readers.

And the Goosed Ya Factor begins with the first word of the first sentence of the first paragraph of the first page of the first chapter. It's emotionally and intellectually goosing the reader into saying, "Oh!" in a silent, mental shrill.

Goosed Ya begins when the reader has forgotten about the author and has begun concentrating on the story from the opening sentence.

From the time we are children, we are told, "Look don't touch."

We can't help touching, though. We're tactile beings. We're attracted to something, and we want to touch it. Even people. Such touching, however, will get us into trouble at the mall, on the bus, or in the subway.

Writers like readers. Readers help us to make a living. But, we've got to get their attention from the beginning, to leave a good impression with the reader so the reader reads on.

As writers, we don't do anything normally. Instead of walking up to our readers and saying, "Hi, I'm So-and-So," we goose them with words—images evoking emotions—and hope they will like the pleasant conversation (story) that follows.

The following are the opening sentences to both newer and older works. Each of these has the Goosed Ya opening, the sentence that immediately causes the reader to want to read the next sentence and the next sentence after that. Can you name the stories that have the following Goosed Ya openings?

1. "Where's papa going with that ax?"
2. "It was a dark and stormy night."
3. "On the whole of dull dark and soundless day in the autumn of the year when the clouds hung oppressively low . . . ."
4. "Call me Ishmael."
5. "Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much."
6. "Get your hand off my breast!"
7. "The first time I met him?"
8. “Something was about to happen. Nona, Archangel of Nth, could feel it in her bones. She sat on the edge of the cloud strumming her lute and wondering what the day would bring.”
9. "It was a pleasure to burn."

You'll notice that quotes 1, 4, 6, and 8 begin with an action.

Quotes 2 and 7 tell us immediately we're going to be reminiscing. Also, quote 2 is a writer's joke and any writer who has study his craft will recognize the jest Madeleine L'Engle is making.

Quotes 3, 5, and 9 present a specific and interesting scene or person or thought.

Quote 4 not only begins with the action word "Call" but also introduces the main character as well as the entire theme of the work to follow in three words by using a Biblical allusion!

Quote 7 is a question in response to previous question: from whom? The reader, an unknown friend?

Also, quote 8 is an invitation. For whom is the invitation? The reader or a character in the story?

Answers:

1. Charlotte's Web, E.B. White
2. A Wrinkle in Time, Madeleine L'Engle
3. "The Fall of the House of Usher", Edgar A. Poe
4. Moby Dick, Herman Melville
5. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, J.K. Rowling
6. See the end of this blog for the answer to this one.
7. The Greatest Miracle in the World, Og Mandino
8. See the end of this blog for the answer to this one also.
9. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

I must admit: as I wrote this blog entry, I couldn't remember the answer to Quote 7. I thought and thought and thought; still, the answer wouldn't come to me.

I remembered the story in its entirety: The opening, the middle, and the end. I have the image of a red rose against a snowy background. An old man teaches a younger man. I remembered the story left me a little sad but wiser and helped to fill a void in my life at that time. I remembered the author's name, did a web search, and then perused the various reviews of his best selling books until I hit upon the book that reminded me of the title to which that particular quote, "The first time I met him?", belonged.

That's the Goosed Ya Factor. I had been so impressed with the opening and then the entire story that I had remembered the story and had forgotten the book and the author.

That's good writing.

The Goosed Ya Factor focuses immediately on the characters and the story to follow not the author and his worldview.

Look at your opening: do you have that Goosed Ya Factor in whatever you're working on now?

Recently, one of my critique partners chided me—correctly, of course—for not having the Goosed Ya Factor in my present novel. In fact, she told me she had gotten to Page Nine before she even knew what the story was about. She was correct of course, and I am grateful for her insight and her patience in sticking with my story through eight pages of protracted purple prose.

I’ve tossed the first eight pages my novel and have rewritten the opening chapter, and I’m quite pleased with the result.

How does your story begin? Thusly?

"The sky was an angry gray that soon turned into a dark frown of rumbling thunder."

That's the author speaking, becoming visible and showing off his ability to type adjectives about the weather and not use his skill to evoke a tell-tale story.

I like storms. I like personification. I even like mixed metaphors when they are presented humorously.

However, I like people more than clouds and thunder and metaphors, and I'd rather read about the angry gray expression and dark frown of a person than get a weather report.

But, I hear you saying, “I’m establishing mood.”

Poe established mood with his weather opening of “The Fall of the House Usher”. Poe was quite popular. Poe will be studied long after we are dead and our scribblings forgotten. But, Poe wrote in the first half of the 19th Century for an audience who spent hours reading, and Poe didn’t compete against television, radio, the Internet, networking, video games, TiVO, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

Even Shakespeare expends much stage energy discussing the weather in his plays, especially his tragedies.

However, if Poe and Shakespeare were alive today, they would be different writers—still great writers, but different from their 19th Century and 16th Century personas.

Indeed, they would begin their stories and plays much differently because both Poe and Shakespeare wrote to be read by giving their respective audience what it collectively wanted to read and see.

"Harley Simmons awoke with an angry gray scowl that turned into a dark frown as he turned over to find she was gone again."

The author has just goosed me. My "Ya Just Goosed Me!" curiosity is now aroused. I can imagine all sorts of scenarios to follow, and none are too pleasant, I might say.

Not only am I presented with an immediate conflict that will lead to a future confrontation, but I have been presented with past history as well with the simple addition of the adverb again.

And why is Harley awaking "with an angry gray scowl"? Did he go to bed angry? Did he have a bad dream? Did they have bad sex? Does he naturally wake up angry? Or, did he go to sleep the previous night expecting to wake up to find "her" gone and, therefore, not only has he awaken in a foul mood, we can assume he went to bed in a foul mood and slept in a foul mood and had foul dreams.

Uh-oh. Big trouble brewing.

To be honest, I don't know what happens next. I just made that up as an example of the difference between a meteorologist turned writer and writer who wants to be published by, first and foremost, attracting the attention of an agent or an editor.

Author's Note:

Quote 6: "Get your hand off my breast!" is from one of my short stories called "The Turning Away" and it refers to fried chicken.

Quote 8: “Something was about to happen. Nona, Archangel of Nth, could feel it in her bones. She sat on the edge of the cloud strumming her lute and wondering what the day would bring.”
is from my angel fantasy novel Exaltation.

I know what you're thinking: This guy must think he's really something to include himself among those great authors!

My only reply to your astonished indignation is, Hey, it's my blog!

Until next time: Keep writing.

See you on the bookshelves.

Larry Mike Garmon

I Crow for the Cock

I am usually awake before 4:30 AM. I developed this habit during the National Novel Writing Month in November 2009. I had to.

I teach high school senior English as well as Comparative Mythology and Speculative Fiction.

Plus, I teach a freshman composition class at the local junior college.

I don’t have much spare time.

I’ve tried writing when I get home after school, but it’s a pain in the ass.

My brain is fried by the end of the day. I’m physically and mentally exhausted from dealing with hundreds of high school seniors who would rather do anything but study Hamlet or write documented essays or even bring a pencil to class.

The administration is only interested in holding me accountable that every student meets the minimum state requirement for graduation—those very students who think I’m something of a taskmaster for requiring them to bring a pencil to class.

It’s as though someone has attached a set of jumper cables to the left and right sides of my brain and then drained all the emotional, creative, physical, and spiritual energy out of me.

So, as NaNoWriMo 2009 approached, I determined I would get up early to write before heading off to Placebo High and then use the evening for revisions, some writing, and planning out the next scene in my story.

It worked. I wrote over 67,000 words in 30 days.

Now I’m in a massive revision phase while getting my next story underway.

I have three morning alarms.

The digital clock with the red-lit numbers is set 20 minutes faster than American Central Time, and although the clock’s face reads 4:20 when the radio alarm sounds, it’s really only 4 AM. I usually hit the 9-minute snooze twice before finally getting up.

I’ve notice lately, though, I’ve been getting up when the alarm sounds the first time.

My second alarm comes from my cell phone. Set at the correct time, it chimes at 4:30 AM—Pachelbel's Canon in D major. This composition is one of my favorite tunes, and hearing it five mornings a week sets my mood for taking on the writing task at hand.

I usually read my subscribed blogs first, check the news, check the emails, and let my mind and body adjust to wakefulness.

I’ve thought about adding some morning exercises to my routine, but one thing at a time.

Then I write. Usually until 6:30 AM. That’s when the third alarm sounds to remind me I have a daytime job for which I need to prepare.

I laugh at my students who drag themselves into my morning classes, who are tired from having played video games until 4:30 AM. I am proud to boast to them that I was getting up to start my day when they were going to bed.

A few weeks ago I had to get up at 3:30 AM as I had rough drafts of senior research papers to read through, and I didn't want to take time away from my writing.

"My God," a fellow teacher said to me. "Why in Hell do you get up so early?"

My simple answer: "My greatest nightmare is that when I retire from teaching I find myself wearing a blue vest with a name tag IDing myself as 'Mike' and saying to the kids that come through the door, 'Would like a smiley face sticker, little girl?'"

To me, some things in life are much worse than getting up at 4 AM to fulfill my life's desire of writing.

Someone has chickens not far from my house. About an hour after I have already started my day, I hear the cock crow.

I just smile.

For whom does the Cock crow? Not for me. I crow for the Cock.

Why Angels, and Just What is Episteme Plasma?

Welcome to Exaltation.

This isn't your typical Christmas story, so be prepared to be shocked and surprised.

Angels have always fascinated me more than vampires, werewolves, goblins, witches, and warlocks.

Throughout Human creation and history, Angels have had a love/hate relationship with God's Image, a weak, self-serving, and contradictory made-of-dirt being who was made just a little lower than the Angels but upon whom God has put all His energies, concerns, and hopes.

Man is made of tangible, degradable stuff while Angels are immortal and eternal. Yet, the Angels are to protect those who were "made a little lower than" them?

I liken this to an older son who is given charge of protecting a younger son knowing that the second son will inherit all of the father's blessings. I know how this feels on a personal level. I empathize with the Angels' feelings as they have, basically, been given a secondary role when "in the beginning" they were created first and foremost and even now continue to commune with God unlike the "second son" does.

Besides, I've grown tired of all the sparkly vampire, brutish werewolf, and wimpy goblin stories. It's getting boring, folks.

As the revision of this story unfolded, I realized that Angels are the cause of many of our folkloric monsters (such as vampires and werewolves) and helpers (such as elves and fairies) as Angels can shapeshift because they are made of Episteme Plasma.

(NOTE: To understand what Episteme Plasma is, you'll have to look up each word separately and then combine the two definitions. Then you'll understand Episteme Plasma, maybe.)

So, at various times throughout human history, instead of appearing as Angels, they appeared as vampires, werewolves, gremlins, ogres, fairies, pixies, elves, wizards (good and bad), et cetera. Tolkein's Wizards, Elves, and Orcs are a good example of this idea.

Exaltation, however, does not deal with this Angelic phenomenon.

Instead, Exaltation is concerned with a young girl named Angela Geneva Hardin, who lives in Junebug, Oklahoma, or, as she puts it, “Junebug wouldn’t be a pinprick on the map on the universe’s hairy butt!”

The Truth of the story is real enough.

Have a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.

Sincerely,
Larry Mike Garmon