Vesper tagged me to talk about what I see as my 5 greatest strengths as a writer. It's not the most comfortable topic for me, since I generally believe it's up to other people to identify our strengths. We're a bit biased (and possibly delusional), after all! I like a meme now and then, however, so I'm going to give it a go.
What I think I'm good at:
1. Mood. The atmosphere of a story is one of my favorite elements to create. Creative choices in scene setting are infinite. The danger, however, is to go overboard. I had to learn to pull back and give the reader some space.
2. Livability. I try to stay very close to the action so the reader can live the scene. I avoid adding a layer of character retelling/commentary.
3. Strong language. I've found that brief, but vivid sentences with strong verbs have far more impact that a paragraph jam-packed with description. My background as a Latin major also helps me mix up the structure of sentences to keep the feeling fresh.
4. Pacing to real time. Along the lines of #2, I want the experience of reading my stories to generally take the same amount of time as the action described. The language reflects the reality. For example, no literary treatment of high tension/action scenes. The flying pace is reflected in short, racing sentences.
5. Learning. Even as I say these things, I think I can improve. I simply don't trust myself to ever get it totally right. That attitude helps me separate writing failures from personal failures.
How about you? What are your strengths?
Friday, September 28, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
"Westinghoused," Part 9 (Final)
(In the late 1800’s, the battle between two competing electric technologies, AC and DC currents, turned brutal. For Thomas Edison, it was a life and death struggle. This is a fictionalized version of true events in history. If you're just joining us, you can start at Part 1.)
Sketch of William Kemmler's Execution
In the primal world of the warden's mind, he pulled out his revolver and shot Kemmler in the head to end his suffering.
Except prison officials didn't carry sidearms. His days of patrolling a precinct and feeling the click of handcuffs over a suspect's wrists were long gone.
The Warden wanted to scream. "What is taking so long?"
"The voltage."
Harold Brown stood paralyzed in the doorway. "It's old equipment. They stopped us...."
A fleeting memory about the Westinghouse Company refusing to sell a generator shook through the earthquake of the warden's thoughts.
Kemmler was finding his voice, moaning.
"It's ready," the technician said.
The warden hurried back into the execution chamber. The audience's chairs were shoved in different directions. Some were standing. Each face mirrored a different reflection of the horror.
"Do it," the warden said.
The avalanche of current hit.
Kemmler rose again, as if straining to lift from the chair.
Long seconds passed. The warden gave no signal to let him down.
When he started to smoke and burn, some in the audience fainted.
Four minutes.
An eternity to watch someone die.
*****
The next day, Thomas Edison danced to the newspaper headline.
The banner read, "Kemmler Westinghoused."
Historical Note:
In the late 1800's, two technologies for electricity waged a war of supremacy. On one side, Thomas Edison championed direct current. On the other, George Westinghouse and the Westinghouse Company fought for alternating current. This race for the commercial electricity market is now known as the battle of the currents.
Thomas Edison was the first. His direct current technology lit the streets in New York City, and he was looking to expand. However, Nikola Tesla, a gifted former employee of Edison, changed the playing field. His breakthrough in alternating current technology threatened to leap over Edison's system and destroy Edison's investment.
The crux of the problem was transmission.
Direct current was heavily affected by the physical property of resistance. As a result, thick, expensive wires were necessary, and transmission was limited to a couple of miles from the power plant. Lighting a few cities was fine, but how would direct current cover the countryside?
Nikola Tesla solved the problem. Using the flip-flopping principles of alternating current, he invented a practical version of the induction coil, or transformer. Using the transformer, alternating current could be stepped up to very high voltages, which enabled current to travel long distances without too much resistance. Another transformer at the destination reversed the process and delivered a usable voltage.
Thomas Edison knew his technology was inferior. To protect his financial interests, he decided to embark on a media campaign to discredit and destroy George Westinghouse and the public's perception of alternating current. He planned to portray Westinghouse's product as horrifically dangerous, unsuitable for use in the home. He planned to portray it as a swift and ruthless killer.
Harold Brown, another former Edison employee, was enlisted to write an editorial about a man he saw accidentally electrocuted. Brown then conducted a series of public demonstrations in which he electrocuted dogs, cats, and even a horse to demonstrate the viciousness of alternating current. (In truth, direct current was also deadly.) Riding the wave of publicity, Edison's political forces pushed to have death by alternating current adopted as the legal means of execution in New York. Edison and Westinghouse then fought a proxy battle using convicted murderer William Kemmler and his travels through the legal system as the pawn. In the end, Edison got his day of spectacle, but not the swift death he desired.
Despite all of Thomas Edison's maneuvering, in 1893 the Westinghouse Company was awarded the contract to build a hydroelectric dam power plant at Niagara Falls. When construction was completed in 1896 and the switch was thrown, electricity was successfully delivered many miles to Buffalo.
For Thomas Edison, the battle was lost.
Go back to Part 8.
Sketch of William Kemmler's Execution
In the primal world of the warden's mind, he pulled out his revolver and shot Kemmler in the head to end his suffering.
Except prison officials didn't carry sidearms. His days of patrolling a precinct and feeling the click of handcuffs over a suspect's wrists were long gone.
The Warden wanted to scream. "What is taking so long?"
"The voltage."
Harold Brown stood paralyzed in the doorway. "It's old equipment. They stopped us...."
A fleeting memory about the Westinghouse Company refusing to sell a generator shook through the earthquake of the warden's thoughts.
Kemmler was finding his voice, moaning.
"It's ready," the technician said.
The warden hurried back into the execution chamber. The audience's chairs were shoved in different directions. Some were standing. Each face mirrored a different reflection of the horror.
"Do it," the warden said.
The avalanche of current hit.
Kemmler rose again, as if straining to lift from the chair.
Long seconds passed. The warden gave no signal to let him down.
When he started to smoke and burn, some in the audience fainted.
Four minutes.
An eternity to watch someone die.
*****
The next day, Thomas Edison danced to the newspaper headline.
The banner read, "Kemmler Westinghoused."
Historical Note:
In the late 1800's, two technologies for electricity waged a war of supremacy. On one side, Thomas Edison championed direct current. On the other, George Westinghouse and the Westinghouse Company fought for alternating current. This race for the commercial electricity market is now known as the battle of the currents.
Thomas Edison was the first. His direct current technology lit the streets in New York City, and he was looking to expand. However, Nikola Tesla, a gifted former employee of Edison, changed the playing field. His breakthrough in alternating current technology threatened to leap over Edison's system and destroy Edison's investment.
The crux of the problem was transmission.
Direct current was heavily affected by the physical property of resistance. As a result, thick, expensive wires were necessary, and transmission was limited to a couple of miles from the power plant. Lighting a few cities was fine, but how would direct current cover the countryside?
Nikola Tesla solved the problem. Using the flip-flopping principles of alternating current, he invented a practical version of the induction coil, or transformer. Using the transformer, alternating current could be stepped up to very high voltages, which enabled current to travel long distances without too much resistance. Another transformer at the destination reversed the process and delivered a usable voltage.
Thomas Edison knew his technology was inferior. To protect his financial interests, he decided to embark on a media campaign to discredit and destroy George Westinghouse and the public's perception of alternating current. He planned to portray Westinghouse's product as horrifically dangerous, unsuitable for use in the home. He planned to portray it as a swift and ruthless killer.
Harold Brown, another former Edison employee, was enlisted to write an editorial about a man he saw accidentally electrocuted. Brown then conducted a series of public demonstrations in which he electrocuted dogs, cats, and even a horse to demonstrate the viciousness of alternating current. (In truth, direct current was also deadly.) Riding the wave of publicity, Edison's political forces pushed to have death by alternating current adopted as the legal means of execution in New York. Edison and Westinghouse then fought a proxy battle using convicted murderer William Kemmler and his travels through the legal system as the pawn. In the end, Edison got his day of spectacle, but not the swift death he desired.
Despite all of Thomas Edison's maneuvering, in 1893 the Westinghouse Company was awarded the contract to build a hydroelectric dam power plant at Niagara Falls. When construction was completed in 1896 and the switch was thrown, electricity was successfully delivered many miles to Buffalo.
For Thomas Edison, the battle was lost.
Go back to Part 8.
Monday, September 24, 2007
De Niro of the Forest
Yo. Are you talking to me?
Are you talking to ME?
I'm the only one here, so you must be talking to me.
You want some horn? Here, I'll give you some horn.
Mount this on your wall, ya dirty %$&#*@!
Wow. It's getting rough in the forest these days. Even the coyotes were all howly and looking for trouble.
Maybe I'll find some peace and quiet in the city.
(Stealthcam I230IR trail camera, Wayne County, Pennsylvania.)
Friday, September 21, 2007
The Clarity of Night Primer
I've written about The New England Primer before and my fascination with it. First published in 1690, it was part religious message, part English text book, and part Puritan ruler-whacking goodness. It employed little rhyming couplets not only as mnemonics to memorize the alphabet, but also to teach moral (and religious) lessons.
Since I've got this wacky fascination and love to philosophize, I thought it would fun to create a new, "Clarity of Night Primer" for my own children. I'll do it in groups of three letters from time to time.
Care to try your hand at your own morality poems? Maybe when we're done, we can compile a set (is anyone an illustrator?) and put it out there to compete with the dusty old Puritans!
A
Always think before you play
For you may lose the game you made.
B
Look for the Beast in what other's do
But don't condemn, he lives in you.
C
A quiet forest Carries sound
The rush of living tends to drown.
Since I've got this wacky fascination and love to philosophize, I thought it would fun to create a new, "Clarity of Night Primer" for my own children. I'll do it in groups of three letters from time to time.
Care to try your hand at your own morality poems? Maybe when we're done, we can compile a set (is anyone an illustrator?) and put it out there to compete with the dusty old Puritans!
A
Always think before you play
For you may lose the game you made.
B
Look for the Beast in what other's do
But don't condemn, he lives in you.
C
A quiet forest Carries sound
The rush of living tends to drown.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
"Westinghoused," Part 8
(In the late 1800’s, the battle between two competing electric technologies, AC and DC currents, turned brutal. For Thomas Edison, it was a life and death struggle. This is a fictionalized version of true events in history. If you're just joining us, you can start at Part 1.)
Electric Chair at Auburn Prison
Auburn, New York
The steel eyes of the witnesses burned under the warden's collar, and heat stung his ears. Somewhere beyond the warden's vision, Kemmler breathed very steady.
The warden wiped his hands and shook the straps to loosen the buckles.
"My God, warden, can't you keep cool?" Kemmler said. "Take your time. Don’t be in a hurry."*
Only two men in the audience laughed.
Gallows humor. It never really worked.
Before the warden strapped in the first ankle, his assistant already secured both wrists to the chair. Harold Brown from the Governor's Commission directed final preparations as the warden fumbled. "Put more salve on the prisoner's head. Right. Secure the cranium cap tight enough so he can barely breathe."
Kemmler grunted as they did it.
The warden finished the second ankle and stood. Kemmler's gaze peered from under the lip of metal. Wires ducked through the doorway to another room.
"Now the spinal lead," Brown said. "Is the clothing cut?"
A guard nodded, and the assistant warden stooped behind the chair. He placed the final electrode.
Brown moved to the doorway so he could relay orders to the men hidden in the room. A churning sound smoothed to a low hum. A vibration buzzed in the floor.
Seconds passed, but Brown gave no indication.
Kemmler began to tap his foot to a silent song. He did that when nothing else occupied his mind.
The warden checked his pocket watch. It was taking too long.
Finally, Brown nodded.
"Do you wish to make a statement?" the warden said.
Kemmler took a breath. "Well, gentlemen, I wish everyone good luck in this world. And I think I am going to a good place and the papers have been saying a lot of stuff that isn't so."*
The warden nodded, and the guards dropped a black cloth bag over his face. The instant the men were clear, the warden took a step backward and signaled.
The air crackled, and Kemmler bulged in the chair.
The warden retreated farther as the man's skin bloomed cherry red. It looked like it might split.
Longer and longer, it went. No one moved. Kemmler's veins ballooned against the straps.
"Seventeen seconds," Brown said.
The warden held up a hand. "Enough."
Kemmler sagged. Almost deflated.
A man in the audience jumped up. "There is the culmination of ten years work and study! We live in a higher civilization from this day." Alfred Southwick, Buffalo dentist. Present at the Governor's request.
But his smile fell when one of the guards shouted. The warden's attention snapped back to the chair.
"He's breathing!"
Kemmler choked, and his chest heaved.
A low moan rattled out.
"Turn it on again!" the warden said.
Nothing happened.
"Again! Now!"
Brown panicked at the doorway. The warden rushed into the room.
Two technicians were scrambling. The generator sputtered, then chugged alive again.
"Why did you turn it off? Hit him again! Come on!"
One man shook his head. "Not enough voltage yet."
The sounds in Kemmler's chest sucked and gargled.
And they were getting stronger.
________
*These quotes were actual statements made during the execution.
On to Part 9.
Back to Part 7.
Electric Chair at Auburn Prison
Auburn, New York
The steel eyes of the witnesses burned under the warden's collar, and heat stung his ears. Somewhere beyond the warden's vision, Kemmler breathed very steady.
The warden wiped his hands and shook the straps to loosen the buckles.
"My God, warden, can't you keep cool?" Kemmler said. "Take your time. Don’t be in a hurry."*
Only two men in the audience laughed.
Gallows humor. It never really worked.
Before the warden strapped in the first ankle, his assistant already secured both wrists to the chair. Harold Brown from the Governor's Commission directed final preparations as the warden fumbled. "Put more salve on the prisoner's head. Right. Secure the cranium cap tight enough so he can barely breathe."
Kemmler grunted as they did it.
The warden finished the second ankle and stood. Kemmler's gaze peered from under the lip of metal. Wires ducked through the doorway to another room.
"Now the spinal lead," Brown said. "Is the clothing cut?"
A guard nodded, and the assistant warden stooped behind the chair. He placed the final electrode.
Brown moved to the doorway so he could relay orders to the men hidden in the room. A churning sound smoothed to a low hum. A vibration buzzed in the floor.
Seconds passed, but Brown gave no indication.
Kemmler began to tap his foot to a silent song. He did that when nothing else occupied his mind.
The warden checked his pocket watch. It was taking too long.
Finally, Brown nodded.
"Do you wish to make a statement?" the warden said.
Kemmler took a breath. "Well, gentlemen, I wish everyone good luck in this world. And I think I am going to a good place and the papers have been saying a lot of stuff that isn't so."*
The warden nodded, and the guards dropped a black cloth bag over his face. The instant the men were clear, the warden took a step backward and signaled.
The air crackled, and Kemmler bulged in the chair.
The warden retreated farther as the man's skin bloomed cherry red. It looked like it might split.
Longer and longer, it went. No one moved. Kemmler's veins ballooned against the straps.
"Seventeen seconds," Brown said.
The warden held up a hand. "Enough."
Kemmler sagged. Almost deflated.
A man in the audience jumped up. "There is the culmination of ten years work and study! We live in a higher civilization from this day." Alfred Southwick, Buffalo dentist. Present at the Governor's request.
But his smile fell when one of the guards shouted. The warden's attention snapped back to the chair.
"He's breathing!"
Kemmler choked, and his chest heaved.
A low moan rattled out.
"Turn it on again!" the warden said.
Nothing happened.
"Again! Now!"
Brown panicked at the doorway. The warden rushed into the room.
Two technicians were scrambling. The generator sputtered, then chugged alive again.
"Why did you turn it off? Hit him again! Come on!"
One man shook his head. "Not enough voltage yet."
The sounds in Kemmler's chest sucked and gargled.
And they were getting stronger.
________
*These quotes were actual statements made during the execution.
On to Part 9.
Back to Part 7.
Monday, September 17, 2007
A Toast to the Shadows and Lamplight
The orange light of lanterns and table candles glowed on their faces.
"My feet hurt."
"Yeah, I know."
"If I die and go to hell, I think ten stories of these stone stairs will be waiting for me."
"Just be glad you're not one of the bus boys. I don't know how they do it."
The younger waitress sighed at the computer screen. "Why did they put a restaurant in the catacombs? I could be working at a Dairy Queen."
"It's not so bad."
Quiet laughter crept from a deeper chamber off to the right. Flickers played on the black mortar and the stairs.
"You need help with that wedding party?"
"It's a rehearsal dinner," the older waitress said.
"That's what I meant."
"No, I'm fine. I'm going back to check on them in a second."
"The bride's dress is nice."
"They seem like such a couple. You can see it when you catch their eyes. The groom is telling stories. I listened for a minute."
"I think my blister split open again."
"I like how we use the low room for the weddings. All the candles melting onto the wall."
"I'm going to shred these shoes in the garbage disposal."
"They brought a bottle of Sauternes. Even the wine sparkles like jewels in the candlelight." The deep creases of the woman's face bent into a lifetime of smiles. She looked down at her own wedding ring and thought of her husband's voice. "I hope they never forget."
Friday, September 14, 2007
Exposure
I tasted the rain
Four times four
Or plus a year
The exposure
Delicious
And dark
When they were sleeping sleeping sleeping
I hate the rain
When I feel it
Four times four times four
Will I be bones?
d
Illusions
Dance the drops dry
But the wind l
is skin
c o
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
"Westinghoused," Part 7
(In the late 1800’s, the battle between two competing electric technologies, AC and DC currents, turned brutal. For Thomas Edison, it was a life and death struggle. This is a fictionalized version of true events in history. If you're just joining us, you can start at Part 1.)
Alfred P. Southwick
1826 - 1898
Buffalo Dentist and Father of the Electric Chair
Dr. Alfred Southwick watched the footsteps of the man being led into the room. Chains clanked against tile. The shuffle made the man something less than human.
The eyes would be a different reality. Dr. Southwick was careful not to look at them.
Despite the pull of travel fatigue, Dr. Southwick's excitement shivered down to his fingers. So much effort and study to arrive at this moment. After seeing a man accidentally killed by electricity, devoting himself to learning its properties. The many experiments. All of the stray dogs and cats he killed.
His dental practice was insignificant in comparison. Electricity would shine the light of reason into the darkness of superstition and brutality. A new era was about to begin.
The warden stepped forward to the rows and rows of chairs. All were occupied. Flash powder popped and sizzled from the hand of the state photographer.
The warden read the death warrant in a single river of words. Dr. Southwick couldn't hold the sentences, and they lost form. He stared at the unmoving fabric of the prisoner's shins.
The man didn't shift from foot to foot.
Perfect stillness. Yet, Dr. Southwick sensed the rock hard life beneath.
But technology would prove capable of slipping life from skeleton and muscle and nerve. Like a magician's sleight of hand. Electricity would bestow mercy on the merciless act of execution.
The man had a name, but Dr. Southwick covered it in his mind.
Kemmler.
No, Kemmler the murderer.
And now the murderer sat in the chair. Dr. Southwick tensed.
It was happening. Time lost friction, and the world was sliding.
The warden bent to the ankle and leg restraints.
His hands were shaking.
On to Part 8.
Back to Part 6.
Alfred P. Southwick
1826 - 1898
Buffalo Dentist and Father of the Electric Chair
Dr. Alfred Southwick watched the footsteps of the man being led into the room. Chains clanked against tile. The shuffle made the man something less than human.
The eyes would be a different reality. Dr. Southwick was careful not to look at them.
Despite the pull of travel fatigue, Dr. Southwick's excitement shivered down to his fingers. So much effort and study to arrive at this moment. After seeing a man accidentally killed by electricity, devoting himself to learning its properties. The many experiments. All of the stray dogs and cats he killed.
His dental practice was insignificant in comparison. Electricity would shine the light of reason into the darkness of superstition and brutality. A new era was about to begin.
The warden stepped forward to the rows and rows of chairs. All were occupied. Flash powder popped and sizzled from the hand of the state photographer.
The warden read the death warrant in a single river of words. Dr. Southwick couldn't hold the sentences, and they lost form. He stared at the unmoving fabric of the prisoner's shins.
The man didn't shift from foot to foot.
Perfect stillness. Yet, Dr. Southwick sensed the rock hard life beneath.
But technology would prove capable of slipping life from skeleton and muscle and nerve. Like a magician's sleight of hand. Electricity would bestow mercy on the merciless act of execution.
The man had a name, but Dr. Southwick covered it in his mind.
Kemmler.
No, Kemmler the murderer.
And now the murderer sat in the chair. Dr. Southwick tensed.
It was happening. Time lost friction, and the world was sliding.
The warden bent to the ankle and leg restraints.
His hands were shaking.
On to Part 8.
Back to Part 6.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Openings
Chicken Mushroom
Laetiporus sulphureus
Warm days and cool, moist nights are coming to the forest. The mushrooms are changing. Summer finds are disappearing--the chanterelles, oysters, and boletes. The transition brings the bear tooth mushrooms and the chicken mushrooms pictured above. We had some with our sauteed chicken. Delicious!
My wife and I were sitting on our cabin front porch reading in the company of the forest yesterday, and I realized how rare a moment it was. When I was teenager, my family went on two-week vacations to the shore. There was so much time to sit and listen to the huge voice of the ocean and get lost in the pages of the latest novel. I understand now that it was a time of opening, both to my own thoughts and those of the authors I read.
I suppose that's why I write more than any other reason. I want to do for other people what those quiet summer days did for me.
Friday, September 07, 2007
Remember: Rebecca Walker
The Remembrance Series: When I walk among old graves, I think about the voices struggling to endure. Someday not even stone will protect us from being forgotten.
Let's give these voices a little more life in a way they never could have imagined. Please take a moment with me to remember....
Inscription:
Loving Remembrance
REBECCA WALKER
Died June 21, 1906
AGE 60 YEARS
'Tis hard to break the tender cord
When love has bound the heart
'Tis hard, so hard, to speak the words
We must forever part
Dearest loved one, we must lay thee
In the peaceful grave's embrace
But thy memory will be cherished
'Til we see thy heavenly face.
Loving Remembrance
REBECCA WALKER
Died June 21, 1906
AGE 60 YEARS
'Tis hard to break the tender cord
When love has bound the heart
'Tis hard, so hard, to speak the words
We must forever part
Dearest loved one, we must lay thee
In the peaceful grave's embrace
But thy memory will be cherished
'Til we see thy heavenly face.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Daughter
We drank an ice water day
In root maple shade
Where cool combed the hairs on my arms
You swung in your dirt-dragged shoes
And we could have talked
As the day crickets sang
But maybe you'll remember more
How easy the silence played
Monday, September 03, 2007
Lightning Crashes
(Vignette based on this tree we found. It stands next to the tangle of grape vines our kids play on in the hemlock forest.)
The prayers of floating seas part their hands, and the rain sheets down.
The roar of wind pushes the Earth, and trees bend east. Their leaves scream tattered and white.
Rumbles.
Rumbles.
The underfoot shivers with crimson and Creation.
It's coming coming coming.
A gasp in the wind, and--
>diamond detonation<
The bloom of sun tears, folds, burns out.
Shredded bark smokes, and a spiral tear plunges into rock and soil. The tree stares upward.
The charcoal feet of angels are walking.
Where the bolt
entered the ground.
The prayers of floating seas part their hands, and the rain sheets down.
The roar of wind pushes the Earth, and trees bend east. Their leaves scream tattered and white.
Rumbles.
Rumbles.
The underfoot shivers with crimson and Creation.
It's coming coming coming.
A gasp in the wind, and--
>diamond detonation<
The bloom of sun tears, folds, burns out.
Shredded bark smokes, and a spiral tear plunges into rock and soil. The tree stares upward.
The charcoal feet of angels are walking.
Where the bolt
entered the ground.
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