Cormac McCarthy and a Discussion of Motivation

No one does anything without a reason. Even if you sit at home and do nothing it is with a purpose: to do nothing. Therefore it is important that our characters have motivation to do what they do. I remember one of the staple questions in fiction workshops was "Why?" Why is the character doing this? But since we are good writers we don't just want to write, "Jack killed the neighbor because he was mad." We want to show why he did it. The reader should be able to discern a reasonable motivation for a character's action.

Currently, I'm reading "Blood Meridian or the Evening Redness in the West" by Cormac McCarthy. The book is about a band of renegade cowboys who travel through Mexico slaughtering Apaches and Mexicans. It's not a story for the faint-hearted and the violence will make you gag more than once. On the surface it's about the racial hatred and land-ownership disputes in the 1840's and 50's in west Texas.

I thought I understood this basis of the motivation, a sign of the times, hatred between Texas and Mexico. But still the violence (killing women, children and infants; scalping them all) didn't quite seem justified. I felt frustrated and was beginning to feel McCarthy just wanted to write about violence. And then I came to a particular passage last night.

One of the band of "warriors" simply referred to as "the judge", a leader among the men, had a habit of collecting samples of the land they passed through. He would kill birds and stuff them, press leaves of newly discovered plants and sketch the landscape. When one of the others asked him why, he explained:

"Whatever exists, he said. Whatever in creation exists without my knowledge exists without my consent....These anonymous creatures, he said, may seem little or nothing in the world. Yet the smallest crumb can devour us. Any smallest thing beneath yon rock out of men's knowing. Only nature can enslave man and only when the existence of each last entity is routed out and made to stand naked before him will he be properly suzerain of the earth."

He goes on for a little while and sums up thusly, "The freedom of birds is an insult to me. I'd have them all in zoos."

After reading that it came to me. This is all about control and dominance. To these men the Indians and the Mexicans are nothing but something that is beneath them, anonymous creatures. The world will not be theirs until each Apache is discarded and scalped for collection. No life but their own is sacred. In saying all this the judge exposed the motivation for the entire group's actions.

And that is what we are all after, isn't it? Control. To varying degrees, of course. Some of us want to be commanders of our destiny. Some just want to know that they can control where they are sleeping from night to night. So where is your character's sense of control, and how much do they want? Where is your sense of control, and how much do you want?

Time

I think it's time to get serious again. I've been overwhelmed and will continue to be, no doubt. This is not a New Year's Resolution. So much to write, too much, too little concentration. So much to do, so much I want to do, so much I don't want to do. Struggling desperately to become well-versed in everything.

It's time for change...seriously.

What I've Read...

Here for whatever reason, I am posting a list of books that I've read and affected me enough that I remember reading them. I know I've read more than this and as of now the list does not include any Shakespeare, Tennessee Williams or Eugene O'Neill plays or any of the myriad of short stories of my past. I have a long list of to-read books. I am always adding to that list (it's real) and would love input on else I should add to it. Let me know if I'm missing anything important. These are in no particular order:

Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton

The Lost World by Michael Crichton

Bad Twin by Gary Troup

Lisey’s Story by Stephen King

The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon by Stephen King

The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer

Lord of the Flies by William Golding

Hard Times by Charles Dickens

The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown

The Fall by Albert Camus

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce

A Year of Living Biblically by A.J. Jacobs

Insomnia by Stephen King

I Am America (And So Can You!) by Stephen Colbert

The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka

Paradise Lost by John Milton

The Robe by Lloyd C. Douglas

The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoevsky

Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky

The Divine Comedy Vol I, II, III by Dante

The Iliad by Homer

The Odyssey by Homer

The Aeneid by Virgil

The Case For Christ by Lee Strobel

On Writing by Stephen King

Jesus Under Fire by Michael J. Wilkins and J. P. Moreland

The Bible Jesus Read by Philip Yancey

Candide by Voltaire

Moby Dick by Herman Melville

This Present Darkness by Frank Peretti

The Oath by Frank Peretti

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

Dracula by Bram Stoker

The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger

Refresh, Refresh by Benjamin Percy

As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner

Blue Highways by William Least Heat-Moon

Nine Stories by J.D. Salinger

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J. K. Rowling

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

(and no, I haven't finished The Deathly Hallows yet)

Corporate Breakdown

He kept checking to see if it was in his pocket. Looking back, his fellow employees will recall that he stroked the left side of his pants often. They’ll also remember frequent trips to the bathroom. After the third trip he simply explained that his stomach was terribly upset and that he couldn’t quite help it. But he never stopped smiling.

Soon he started to sweat.

“Leave me alone, bitch,” he told one of the female baristas after she asked if she could help him. He didn’t shout, but he threw an empty paper cup at her. No one else saw it.

When he started getting gruff with customers, the manager threatened to send him home early and not pay him for the day. He didn’t respond any further than pushing the manager out of the way with his shoulder as headed to the restroom again.

The sweat was running down the sides of his face and catching in his beard. A snotty, Gucci-wearing woman advanced on the register and complained to him that her latte was not in fact soymilk, but skim. At this he picked up the glass tray holding the last remaining bagels and threw it. The tray narrowly missed her head and shattered against the opposite wall.

“Then go somewhere else,” he said calmly as he cocked his head to the side. Everyone in the coffee shop was silent. All eyes were on the bearded employee, who stood like a rock. The woman stormed out and when the manager grabbed his arm to tell him to leave, he punched her in the face. She staggered backwards, her face instantly swelling around one of her eyes.

“Call 911,” she said through tears to the other employer, whose earpiece was slowly sliding off his head. “Call 911,” she repeated louder.

He began to stagger and flail, knocking as much off the counter as he could. Pastries flew about while the unruly employee laid waste to the store. He even tried to over-turn the espresso machine, but it alone stood up to him. Another barista, the only other male inside at the time, confronted him, but he took a pot of steaming water to the face. The doctors would later tell him he would never look the same again.

Having moved into the lobby of the coffee shop, he began over-turning tables and chairs. He kicked at one particular table that would not topple the way he wished and as he did so, he slipped and fell backwards. His head struck the edge of the counter and he did not get up again.

“I’ll need to see the tape,” said an officer as he pointed to a security camera in the far corner of the store. The employee lay dead at the officer’s feet, a ring of blood haloing his lifeless head. He nudged the body with his boot but felt a sensation not like that of flesh. The officer bent down and pulled a nearly empty flask out of the dead employee’s pocket.

A Quick One (While He's Away)

The door shook, rattled on its hinges. No answer. The man outside worked his way around to the back, peering in windows as he went. All dark. He slipped his gloved hand into his pocket and pulled out a key. It fit the lock. Inside he crept, careful not to worry about knocking things over. A lamp toppled when his foot hit it as he jumped a sofa. He stormed into the bedroom. No one was there, but...

Sure enough...

He turned and smashed a canvas on the wall with his fist. Back outside he toppled the trash bin and dug around. The man pulled out a to-go box with half of an old salad inside, covered in mold and slime. He threw the salad at the front door and smeared long streaks as gravity pulled it down. And thus he marked them for what they are.


(I want to say thank you to The Who for inspiring the title. I'm back at the blogging gig, and hope to stay that way. I know I've said it before. But I'll try.)

What do you do when...

What do you do when you read a story that is similar to one of your own ideas and is perfect in almost every way? In some ways its depressing. I begin to think that there is no way that I could write something as strong as this. In some ways its encouraging, because if they did it and it worked well, then I can too.

I just read "Idols" by Tim Gautreaux in the June 22 issue of The New Yorker. One of the most powerful short stories I've read all year and it follows almost the same plot structure as my story, "Red Truck" (not that I'm bragging). Obviously his was done first, and certainly more powerful than mine is considering mine is still in the draft stages. The main character is torn down by his obsession and effectively alienates his only hope in friendship and help. Its beautiful. Depressing, sure, but beautiful in the way well-written stories are. Read it and revel in its greatness.

So, now, what do I do? Do I sit and wallow in the fact that my basic story idea has already been done, and most likely better than I could pull it off? Or do I use this as inspiration to make mine better and more powerful? It's daunting either way you look at it.

Sober

These are humanizing days. All of us, even the wealthiest and most talented, are faced with the reality of Time. We've screwed ourselves over with greed and fame. Those of us who search for greatness, who dream of being everyone else's dream, will be squashed by the over-stimulation of the public. Sure, at best, a few million people might enjoy our song, our novel, but we'll be forgotten tomorrow. There is no more superstar. I might venture to say the reality of the superstar died with Michael Jackson.

We're all grappling for a place, a significance. I think this economy is sobering up the nation. Our over-spending has caused a return to the bare necessities. We can't all have the impact and the image that we strive for; this fact is hitting us hard. Still we try, it's part of the human condition.

I believe that we should all try, at the very least, to have an impact, a positive indentation in the lives whom we can reach and be content with doing so. What you say, do, create and share with others does have an impact on those who receive. Some may even be touched, in the most sentimental meaning of the word, by you. So, you might not feel that what your doing has any purpose, but it does.

For me, I might not have the job I want or yet be a published fiction author, but the friends and family whom I share my words with are changed because of it. No matter how visible your impact on them may be, you've had one. Always remember that. Without you, or me, or the funny looking bearded man across the coffee shop, this world would not be the same.

I apologize for being away for so long. I've been busy muddling through what feels like failed attempts at writing. Job applications happen here and there. Still no luck. I hope to have a story completed in time for the Esquire magazine fiction contest (due Aug. 1), but plot details evade me. I've been reading, also. Go about your surfing in peace and hopefully I'll be writing here again soon.

Book Review On-The-Go and More!

Generally I prefer to avoid exclamation points, but I figured the one in the title is justified this time. I've decided to start a new segment of the blog: "Book Review On-The-Go." Instead of reading a book and the presenting you with a review, I will provide updates on my impression of the book as I read it. On the whole, I'm a busy reader with four magazine subscriptions (one weekly, one bi-weekly, two monthly, all of which I read extensively) and usually a couple books going at the same time. Therefore updates might not be as frequent as I'd like, but maybe this will speed me up.

The first book up for an "On-The-Go" review is Self-Editing for Fiction Writers: How to edit yourself into print by Renni Browne and Dave King. I had seen this book mentioned and praised on other blogs, and seeing how I'm editing myself at the moment, I decided to pick up a copy. An intro and three chapters in, I'm not entirely impressed. In general, I find their advice and explanations to be over-simplified. Occasionally they'll strike a chord and I'll have one of those, "I haven't thought of it that way before" moments.

Browne and King have a nasty habit of taking a classic like Lonesome Dove or The Great Gatsby and suggesting 'better' ways certain passages could have been written. Maybe this is to make the young writer feel less over-shadowed by the greats. Maybe this is to simply use well-known examples. Or maybe this technique rose from over-grown editor egos. (Disclaimer: I love editors, have served as one myself, and believe many great journalists and writers had brilliant editors.)

Chapter One, "Show and Tell," focused exactly on what you might think it. You've got to show the read what's happening rather than tell it to them...at least most of the time. Of course some narration is necessary. This is their point. It's a great chapter to open with, because it's a problem we all deal with and definitely something that beginning writers might not even think about. If you've taken any creative writing classes you're not missing much by skipping this.

Chapter Two, "Characterization and Exposition." It's almost a continuation of chapter one and therefore its logical successor. Again, minimal help here for those who've had training, but it did hold some nuggets. The writers do a good job of stressing that characters should be defined and described mainly through their actions, rather than an introductory narrative description.

Chapter Three, "Point of View." Browne and King stress that the only points of view that need to be discussed or even considered are first, third and omniscient. I have always been taught that you should find a point of view (first, second, third) and a distance (how omniscient) and stick with it all the way through. Sure, there are great examples where authors broke this rule; Faulkner did it in As I Lay Dying, where each chapter was presented from a different character's perspective. However, these editors seem to say that as long as you don't get too confusing or intimate with one POV than another you can jump around. Sounds dangerous to me.

More general details and brief chapter reviews to come.

On that note: I have completed small revisions for the second draft of "Red Truck." But, having read it over a couple times and discussing the few others who have also, I have decided to re-write the whole thing in third person rather than first. I've only dealt with the intro couple of pages and things are already looking up. This story might have a future after all.

Let the Editing Begin!

So, I have begun the editing process on "Red Truck." I printed out two hard copies, one for me and one for my wife, and have started marking up the pages with relish.

Today, however, I have yet to pick up the manuscript. But, I've been busy. I followed up on two job applications and am hoping/praying for a call or two. I did a bit of a recap on all of my submissions of "Gullible Jack;" I found out that one journal rejected me without notification and I sent a query to another that has taken its time. I have six submissions still pending. Also, I heard back from Benjamin Percy who had some good advice to give. It's encouraging to talk to published short story authors. On that note I also have attempted to contact an old fiction professor of mine in hopes that she will be willing to help me edit "Red Truck."

In other, somewhat related news, I came across the blog Words on the Page written by Lori Widmer. She has declared tomorrow, May 15, as Writers Worth Day. The goal is to express that the work writers do is worth more than the little, if any, compensation they are given. Low pay pay for news, reporting and freelancing is a problem that the journalism and publishing communities are facing now more than ever. Going beyond raising awareness, Lori is posting career tips and information for writers all month. Please check out her blog and show your support as well.

Now, I'm off to do some editing, maybe a little reading and then hitting the hay.

Rough Draft Complete

Over the past few years I have written five or six short stories that I can consider mostly complete and a number of others that are still in early drafts. Out of all of those I'm only proud of a couple of them. "Red Truck" draft #1 is officially complete. I love the way this story is going, but man do I have a lot of revising, rewriting, and just editing in general to do. It is rough in the truest sense of the word. But, I'm excited. Now that the framework is down I can really start get at the meat and the details of the story, thereby making it truly beautiful. Beauty, that's what all artists strive for in one way or another, right?

There is a lot in this writing blog community of ours about self-editing and revision like this post at The Blood-Red Pencil. I think this will be my process of editing for now:

1. I will get my wife and maybe one or two others to read it and have them give me their honest thoughts on the story as a whole.

2. Print out the manuscript and mark up the hard copy with micro-editing and notes on larger issues. I might even lay out pages at a time on the floor to get a bigger-picture view.

3. Take notes in my notebook about scenes and details that need addressing.

4. Read and re-read the hard copy.

5. Begin making changes.

But first, I think I'll take the rest of the weekend off and give my brain a break from the story. How do you self-edit and revise? I'm interested in any tips or suggestions.