Archive for the ‘Finnegans’ category

Finnegans commence

February 5, 2018

I had a great weekend of writing this past. As I said in my recent post (betwixt) I needed to embark on something wholly different from what has occupied most of my creative energy for the last few years, and I did. I began work on a new Finnegans novel.

The Finnegans are a husband and wife team I’ve envisioned being the protagonists of a series of cozy mystery novels set in bed and breakfasts. Their stories would be unique because there wouldn’t be any actual crime involved, and certainly not any murder (which is standard issue for most mysteries). I’ve always said that there is plenty of evil people can do that doesn’t involve crime. The Finnegans stumble into these mysteries and bring them to some resolution, generally vindicating the innocent and revealing the guilty.

I’ve actually written four of these novels (none published), so I know the characters well and can more or less throw them into the plot I have in mind and let them do the driving. I think they’re perfect for the break I need from my “literary” writing. I can more easily pick up where I left off with the Finnegans, meaning I might do some writing at unexpected times, like in the long, dark winter evenings before me.

This latest, which I’m calling Finnegans Fogbound, involves a half marathon in a town bitterly divided by ethnicity (Irish on one side of the river, Hispanics on the other and only one bridge betwixt them). I had originally conceived this plot long before I took up the sport of running, but now that I’m revisiting it with some actually running experience, I can see how much better I can tell the tale.

The writing has been going well. I put down more than 2,000 pretty good words and completed a first chapter. Slyly introduced in that chapter are the tensions that will be resolved in the story, so the plan is well laid.

Feels good being in this kind of place.


We were at the art museum when the “light dusting” began yesterday. Thinking it prudent, we headed home with some trouble. Four inches and some shoveling later and it all seems like a dream.

momentum, maybe?

January 12, 2018

With the apparent (though only one time so far) success of my ambition to devote one night a week to the more mundane aspects of writing, I’ve begun to wonder if I ought to dedicate another evening of the week to another aspect of my writing.

Long-time readers will recall that I have written a few cozy-mystery novels with a husband and wife team called the Finnegans. Indeed, those novels were why I had originally begun this humble blog. I have four novels written for the duo. One is an apprenticeship mess, one was lost during a hard drive crash (though I think I have enuf pieces of it in emails to put it back together), one is pretty good but needs some structural work, and one is what I consider finished and that I had even begun shopping around years ago. But then my more fraught and literary One-Match Fire stories began asserting themselves in the limited space of my creative brain, and the poor Finnegans (who are not young people by the way) were shoved to the curb.

But the thing about the Finnegans novels is that they are not intended to be literary works. They are genre works, and though I think I bring a new look to the genre with them, they aren’t “deep” reads. They do what they set out to do but they don’t ask too much of the reader.

Which brings me back to my point. I believe I can write these novels in the evenings of the week, when the household is noisy and my soul is mostly crushed by the real world and so on. I don’t have to enter the same creative place in my mind that my loftier writing requires.

And so, I’ve thought, why not dedicate another night of my week to the Finnegans? I could polish the two novels that I think are ready, and I could retrieve the novel that was lost. Plus I have thousands of words of notes for a new novel that I could begin writing. This seems workable.


February 1, 2017

I don’t have much going on right now to report, gentle reader.

I’m between major projects. One-Match Fire is, I think, complete (though I am flirting with adding another story). I am poking at writing a query letter to begin sending it out, but I choke up because it is so important to get it right, and that will never happen.

I have an idea for a new novel blossoming in my head. It’s pretty much taking up all of my attention. Unlike One-Match Fire, which is not always happy but at least resolves warmly in the end, this novel would be grim and harrowing. It would be completely unlike anything I’ve ever written, and yet it is forcing itself into my mind, will I or nill I.

I’m not sure what to do about that. It’s too early to begin writing it (though I have worked out a couple of passages already), so I can let it gestate and continue to present itself to me. But I’m actually afraid of it. It’s not a nice story, and I don’t want to go where I would have to go (research) to be able to flesh out parts of the story.

So I thought I should go back to one of my Finnegans novels — the murderless cozy mysteries I want to write a series of, and for which I first began this humble blog. (This one deals with running a half marathon, too.) While fun, with intricate plots, they are not fraught with emotion and generational intrigue like One-Match Fire is. And they are a polar opposite to this new idea I have. So my thought is that if I devoted my efforts to one of those novels, I could either dissipate the urge to write that monster, or I could let it evolve sufficiently so that I could begin working on it properly once the Finnegans novel is in the can. (A large part of me wants the former to happen.)

I’ve said here before that it sometimes seems as though the stories exist “out there” and we writers are given glimpses of them so that we can put them down. If that’s truly the case, then I must have sinned grievously in a past life to be punished with this newest story idea.

open road before me

June 29, 2015

I devoted my weekend writing time to reading the notes I have been compiling for a while toward a new Finnegans novel. (12,000+ words of notes!) I’m making that lane change I discussed in my last post, moving from the Fathers and Sons stories and into something completely different: a Finnegans novel.

I began this humble blog in part as a way to discuss my fledgling efforts on my Finnegans novels. They are cozy mysteries, but they are unique within that genre because they don’t include a murder. I’ve always said that there is plenty of evil that people can do that doesn’t involve murder and often not even crime. (Doyle once calculated that a little more than half of the Sherlock Holmes tales didn’t include a murder and that many weren’t even about crimes, so I feel like I have a literary leg to stand on.)

I had read extensively in the cozy mystery genre, and nearly all of the novels had a murder that the sleuth eventually solved. I have to say, most of this felt contrived, even over the top. And I really don’t think, as some have asserted, that a reader needs something as startling as murder to stay interested in a mystery story. Or rather, I think readers of the cozy mystery genre might welcome a little variation in the formula. Thus my murderless mysteries with a husband and wife team of sleuths who stumble upon whatever is wrong, often not even knowing that something is wrong, and resolving it all in the end.

I’ve written four Finnegans novels (none published though one had some bites when I was shopping it around). They are early efforts, and while I think I can probably salvage a couple of them, I’m eager to get going on this new one to have a fresh start. I have my two central characters well sorted out (from having written the four existing novels), so all I need to do is plunk them down in my plot and let the words flow. (Unlike my “literary” Fathers and Sons stories, I’m not trying to be any more “meaningful” or “lofty” than to tell a good story that can be appreciated on that level alone. I don’t have to anguish over each word and bit of punctuation as I do with the F&S stories. Thus, I think the words can flow on the Finnegans stories.)

As I was reading the 12,000+ words of my notes, I came upon little devices and developments that I had forgotten about and am eager to get into the novel. I also came upon some dead ends that I can discard without a problem. This story happens to involve the wonderful sport of running, and my personal experience with that in recent years will inform the writing in a pleasing and fruitful way, I hope. (I had conceived this plot device for the story before I had taken up running. Kind of handy how my life interests took the turn they did then.)

Whatever the fog has been that has kept me from writing seems to be lifting. In recent weeks I have “finished” two short stories and even submitted some to magazines (!). I’m making my lane change and taking up the Finnegans novel. Things seem to be moving again. I hope it sustains.

bits and pieces

May 2, 2015

I’ve never understood why troubled characters in literature always needed to “hit absolute bottom” before they could begin to recover. I suppose that’s because they wouldn’t make good story unless they were high drama.

*   *   *

I am both happy and surprised to report that I’ve had a flurry of note taking for my stories, including for one of those Finnegans stories that I’ve never been able to fully abandon. And the Fathers and Sons stories continue to clamor for me to get them completed, at least in draft form. I think I have three or four stories to write to get them all down, then it’s a “simple” matter of integrating and refining them. After that, I don’t know. Submit them to agents? Story collection contests? Move on?

That’s all a hopeful sign that my brain is beginning to release me from the prison its kept me in for the last year. This might be a false alarm, of course, but I have actually been getting some quality writing done when I force myself to take the time to try. Perhaps I’m facing a dearth of motivation rather than one of creativity.

*   *   *

As for my running adventure, I’m doing well. As of today, I am two-thirds of the way through the three half marathon series I signed up for last summer. Don’t get me wrong. Running a half marathon is HARD WORK for me. But overall, this has not been the brutal festival of pain I feared it would be. I have the third of the three next Saturday, and I made the choice to drive the course recently, which is nearly always a good and bad thing. Lots and lots of long, rolling hills. Lots of them. Long ones. I don’t expect to set a personal record on this one.

I did managed to log 100 miles in April. I didn’t expect to given that I needed to allow for rest days before those half marathons (and those would cut down on my mileage), but I was three days from the end of the month and saw I only needed 14 miles to break triple digits, so out I went. My April 30 run was only four miles, but that was possibly the very worst run of my life. Maybe I hit absolute bottom on that one, and now all of my runs will be better in comparison.


October 27, 2014

So I spent my money and got Word working again and all I had was my inner demons to keep me from working on my stories. And in the two weeks since I’ve been back in operation, the demons have won. I haven’t written a word. I’m barely even reading (although the book I have on the beside table is Under the Glacier by Halldor Laxness, which is a truly peculiar book by Iceland’s Nobel laureate). And I’m not even running much. In the three weeks since the Portland Marathon I think I’ve run under thirty miles. Thirty miles used to be my weekly goal, which I nearly always reached.

But something may have shaken loose. I seem to be getting some movement from the constipated bowels of my creative self. I’ve been making a lot of notes about the various Fathers and Sons stories that still need to be written. (I’ve decided that I need to write the remainder of these in the order of their chronology across the series. That leaves me with the first one to write, um, first. And I haven’t sufficiently imagined it in my head to begin. Or maybe that’s just an excuse.)

Even more amazing, one of my abandoned Finnegans mystery novels has been asserting itself in my head. I’ve been compiling fresh notes about that novel, and not just bits of dialogue or anecdotes to slip in, but thematic stuff, big stuff that can shore up the structure of the anemic novel. (Did I just mix a metaphor?) I had walked away from the Finnegans novels as too trivial, too lightweight to be worthy of my magnificent talent. Yes, I was that guy for a while. But the fact is that they would probably make an interesting series of novels about a husband and wife who stumble upon little and big mysteries every time they stay at a bed and breakfast. The research alone would be worthwhile, wouldn’t it?

So maybe I’m turning a corner. I have a half marathon to run this coming weekend, and if the knees don’t give up, neither will I. And if the words start to flow, I’ll stick with that too. Stay tuned.

fictionally true to life story

February 21, 2013

So come along with me as I tell you a true story about a fictional story. It happened to me, and as you’ll see, those four words have several layers of meaning.

My wife and I found ourselves with a free Sunday (we lead such active social lives, don’t you know). The weather forecast called for relatively warm temperatures for mid-February in Missouri. Our winter-starved souls called for a little self indulgence. And our pocketbooks were so emaciated that they would hardly notice if we took even more from them.

So we jumped into my wife’s car, which she’s named Blanche, by the way (do you name your cars?), and drove to a tiny town in mid-Missouri called Rocheport. Rocheport was once a major Missouri River port, but the river shifted and then the interstate hurried people past, and Rocheport settled in as a quaint, sleepy little burg of about 200 people with some old homes and other historic features. In recent years a winery has grown nearby, and the KATY Trail, a state-spanning hike/bike trail, now passes through the town. Rocheport is once again seeing commerce, though of a more refined if slower-paced sort than the pioneers, hucksters, and exploiters of a prior age.

Our plan was to enjoy a very nice meal at the very nice winery restaurant on the cliff top with a very nice view of the Missouri River valley. And we did, managing to sample a good bit of the local vino as well. (Several bottles came home with us.) Then we went into Rocheport itself and began strolling the tree-lined streets and visiting the antique shops. (Also, the ice cream shop.) I bought a few gifts for someone whose birthday is this month, and we had a delightful time. (Next time you’re in town, let’s go to Rocheport together, okay?)

Rocheport probably has more bed and breakfast inns per capita than any other place on the planet. We stayed in one there a year ago and had a fine time. My wife has been wanting to visit with her sister, who lives in St. Louis, for a long time. I suggested that the two of them book a weekend at one of the little town’s B&Bs since Rocheport is just about literally halfway between St. Louis and Kansas City. I even pointed out the brochure for one of the B&Bs that features girls-only weekends.

But my wife noted that the B&B had a select clientele. It was a purple-roof establishment, which is to say it catered only to lesbians. Where had she heard that, I asked. Well, she remembered reading about it somewhere.

I knew exactly where she had read about it. It was in a work of fiction, set in a small town not-too-loosely based on Rocheport. It was an unpublished novel. One written by me.

Part of my hope from visiting Rocheport that day was to spark my attention to my languishing novel. It’s one of my Finnegans murderless mysteries, and I’ve been letting it lie fallow for a while. I think I can come to it coldly enuf now to give it a fair read through. And a chuckle.

even worse than writing the novel

April 16, 2012

I’ve begun working on writing a query letter for Finnegans Deciphered. Ugh! What a difficult and unpleasant task writing query letters is. It’s harder than writing an entire novel. I have to distill the essence of my 64,000-word story into about 200 words of scintillating, captivating prose. Success hangs on doing this right, on picking the right angle, the right details, the right words, the right tone, and then the right agent. I hate this part of the work.

I’ve written plenty of queries before. I’ve even written some that have worked well, garnering interest from several agents. But the effort is freighted with loads of conventional wisdom and horror stories of imperious agents. There are (often conflicting) formulas for how they should be written and supposedly good and bad seasons for when they should be sent. I happen to believe that most agents see past all of this nonsense and look for the kernel of interest within the query.

And that probably makes the job harder. If it were simply a matter of applying conventional wisdom and your choice of query letter templates, then I wouldn’t be facing this anguish. Instead, though, I think I need to write the query that gets to the kernel of interest about my novel. And how do I do that?

I want to give the novel another read through. There are a few more details I want to address, and I’ve let it sit idle long enough to (I hope) allow me to approach it with a more objective eye. It’s not time to begin sending out queries yet, but just laying the ground work for that is a chore.

chapter titles – any thoughts?

February 27, 2012

I realize it’s a bit premature to think that my chapter titles in Finnegans Deciphered are anything like final, but I don’t think it’s too early to ponder them and the work they can do.

The number 17 is important in the story. It happens that there are 17 chapters in my novel. I had thought briefly about making that happen deliberately for some thematic connection, but I realized that I wasn’t sure just what that connection would signify, so I abandoned the idea. Plus, though I knew I had finished up with 17 chapters in the first draft (merely by coincidence), I suspected I would be chopping one of the longer chapters in two, thus giving me 18 chapters. But I didn’t since that would have given the novel three chapters devoted mostly to a single event in the story, and I thought that was drawing too much attention to something that wasn’t that important to the plot.

But that’s not the point of this post. Rather, I want your thoughts/opinions on my chapter titles. I realize you don’t know the plot of the story, but that’s actually good for my nefarious purpose. My intent with these titles is to be both playful and intriguing. My notion is that someone might pick up the novel in a bookstore, not knowing anything of the plot, and scan the list of chapter titles. And if they are titled well, the individual will be intrigued enough to want to read the novel based on no more than what is hinted there.

So here are the titles as they currently exist:

  1. In which Greg doubts he is welcome
  2. In which Ann and Greg meet their fellow guests
  3. In which Greg has a date with history
  4. In which Ann takes a turn about town
  5. In which Ann and Greg have a pretty good lunch
  6. In which Ann and Greg have a very nice dinner
  7. In which Ann and Greg have a nice conversation with Ava and Willows
  8. In which Ann and Greg go Sunday cycling
  9. In which Ann and Greg spin and spin
  10. In which a sleepy afternoon is interrupted
  11. In which many revealing words pass among new friends
  12. In which Greg doesn’t feel very good but soldiers through the morning
  13. In which Greg misses the point but presses on regardless
  14. In which Ann holds court
  15. In which Greg grows weary of the chase
  16. In which Greg learns there is more
  17. In which Ann has one surprise left

So there you go. Based on these, do you think someone might be intrigued? Do they do that kind of work?

Just as the right book title can often make the difference, I think good chapter titles can be a sort of marketing tool as well. At the very least, I think a writer should give them some thought even if a reader never does.

I suspect that the “In which” business might be a little cloying. It’s actually meant to mimic a writing style of old. A hundred-year-old novel also plays an important part in the story, so I feel permitted to use this format in my chapter titles. I can remember reading some old works (published in the same era as my fictional novel — which may be one of the few times a person can call a novel “fictional” and not be redundant) where each page had a unique title in the header.

Of course I can’t know that the final work would even have a page listing chapter titles, but I can’t concern myself with that possibility now. Right now I am trying to make the novel coherent and whole. I’m trying to make every component contribute and be worth its weight.

Finnegans Deciphered, and unending

February 22, 2012

I’ve decided to insert a backstory into Finnegans Deciphered that I had earlier discarded. It’s more character development than plot, but it deals with the antagonist of the story, and I think it makes her (or him?) more interesting. It will also help explain another bit of backstory in the novel that I’d deliberately left vague.

I’m not doing this to inflate the word count (hovering somewhere in the neighborhood of 64,000 words) since what it will add will hardly amount to a thousand words at best. But while talking about the story with my beta reader, I mentioned this idea for the backstory, and she said that she thought the antagonist’s motivation seemed a little sparse. This will help remedy that.

My beta reader had a number of comments about the story, and while she generally liked it, her ideas have sparked areas where I can devote more attention to development. I’ve already made some too-explicit things more obscure, and I’ll make some obscure things more explicit. All of this involves rewriting at various points in the narrative, so I have a big job ahead of me incorporating her many ideas. But the story will be better for it. And I’ll keep busy. Everyone needs a hobby.