oDesk

Despite the fact that the name sounds a bit like a piece of Irish furniture, this is a fantastic resource for a beginning writer! Twenty years ago, when I was first contemplating being a writer, you had to head off to the library to find the latest edition of the Writer's Market to see who accepted what. Despite the completeness of that work, it was by no means all-inclusive, and you never knew who actually needed what at any given time. The days of the Internet are boom-times for writers!

ODesk is a terrific site where writers and those who need them are put together. My wife and I landed a wonderful stint with an elegant new Denver publication, 1 Magazine, through oDesk, and I have another nibble that I am very hopeful about.

In short, if you are interested in pursuing a writing career, do not overlook oDesk!

http://www.odesk.com/

Star Trek Gnurd

Several years ago, before my wife, Jennifer, and I were married, we were sitting up late one night watching Star Trek: Voyager. It was one of many episodes dominated by the insanely hot Jeri Ryan and the Borg. Jenn asked me, “Where do the Borg come from? What was their origin?” She often deferrs to me on these issues, as I am a long standing Star Trek nerd, while she is fairly new to such things. Given that I am not privy to any origin story for the Borg, I started spinning my yarn:

The Borg is an ancient species within the Star Trek universe. Their genesis was millions of years ago as an orbital grain elevator, circling an agricultural planet. The grain elevator and the planet that it supported belonged to a space-faring race whose name is lost to the mists of time – all that is known about them is that their grain elevator outlasted them by a thousand millennia. The elevator was built to be self-sustaining, so, when repairs were needed, it would send a servo unit to make them. If it needed a new servo unit, it would build it. If it needed steel for the new servo unit, it would send robotic units groundside to mine the iron and make the steel, or it would use a piece of now useless machinery, etc. As a result, it stayed in orbit of the planet, filled to capacity with grain, and working perfectly. Eventually, running low on maintenance resources, it built a small spacecraft and populated it with robotic units to scavenge parts and materials from passersby, and, as it assimilated more and more of these strange, alien technologies, a consciousness began to awake. It realized that it was a mere agricultural tool, but that it could become more by assimilating these strangers, and so it continued.

The problem is that she swallowed the whole story, hook, line, sinker. I thought that I was being freaking hysterical, but she did not. Genius is rarely appreciated. . . .

New Orleans Mystery

Ok, so I have got this collection of great characters. First of all, my main "amateur detective" character, a mysterious gray-haired French doctor, an anthropologist, who is referred to by his compatriots alternatively as "Doctor" and "Professor". He has a faint residual French accent, but speaks fluent and educated English. Secondly, an attractive socialite in her late forties or early fifties who has a string of ex-husbands, scads of money, killer legs and a Bugatti limousine. Third, a longtime companion of the professor, southern French in appearance, can repair an automobile and cook reasonably well. He acts as valet, gentleman's gentleman, cook, chauffeur and bodyguard. He is very quiet, obviously has a history, can shoot anything that shoots, and can kill a man with a rubber band and a piece of chewing gum. He has a heavy accent, and intersperses French into his language heavily, though he speaks quite fluent English. Also, an elderly bloodhound who cannot smell (result of a bullet wound to the head), and who will not eat anything but dog food, much to the chagrin of his caretakers.

Now I need to outline. I have an early 19th century deposition that acts as the backbone of the mystery, and chapters are cut with excerpts from the deposition. The deposition alleges to be the true story of the Mystick Krewe of Comus, its membership and practices, and what they are “really” up to.

Book Update

I made some good progress on the book this weekend, getting into the meat of the plotting. I think I need to outline more. Sad to say, I am no Hem, and I need structure imposed from somewhere outside my mind.

Nonetheless, character development is going well. I may need to cut some, but I like the direction that it is taking. It is finally taking on a life, which makes writing it much easier.

I found a fantastic recipe this weekend for a cranberry chutney. I would post here, but I fear that this is becoming too much of a recipe blog, and noone wants or needs that.

Speaking of Hem, I have found the typewriter that I desire! It is a Corona No. 3 folding typewriter. It is a well designed object, and it served as Hemingway's therapist for many years.

"Murder," he wrote. . .

I am currently doing research for a murder mystery set in post-Katrina New Orleans. This is problematic, as I want to lend the book a sense of being from an "insider's" perspective, avoiding as much of the turisto cliché as possible. Sadly, my most recent visit to that intriguing city was two decades back, making current knowledge unreliable, at best.

I have a query out through the fabulous Marja Claire Martin, currently of Santa Fe, New Mexico, formerly of New Orleans. She is doing some research for me, and I look forward to hearing back about what she has to say.

I have been out of touch with Marja since about 1988 – it is so hard to believe how quickly twenty years may pass! It was a delight to catch up with her again.

An Exciting New Journey!

Alright, to be perfectly fair, all new writers have to write something in their little locked journals about how they are starting an "exciting new journey" in their self-important little lives when they decide to fire up their writing careers. The typical writing career lasts about three months, then peters out in favor of their next "exciting new journey".

Nonetheless, this is something that I have been planning to do for the better part of three decades, and it really does feel like the start of a new voyage in my life. The voyage I have been on up until now has been more like floating about in a life-raft.

So, at the ripe old age of two score and five years, I am going to become a writer. Finally.

So far, I have produced some limited content for Associated Content, and little else. I am shopping for more markets - I will keep you informed of developments.