Galveston: A Novel

Twice in one week. What can I say, I'm on a roll. But I think it's time to face the music: the literary and movie-making worlds have Texas on the brain.

I read about Galveston by Nic Pizzolatto in Texas Monthly recently and put it on my list. After all, I've spent a fair amount of time browsing the earthy boutiques on the Strand, pretending to like Moody Gardens, and shaking off the chills when I catch one of those '1900 Storm Survivor' badges on one of the buildings. Indeed, Galveston is the neighbor of my childhood.

But today, whilst stalking books on Amazon, my clicking finger hovering feverishly over the Whispersync button (have I mentioned I love Kindle for PC?), the powers that be tossed Galveston onto my recommendations list. Why do I get the feeling I'm being watched?

Needless to say, that $11.99 Kindle price didn't faze me and I will be devouring Galveston this weekend. I mean, wouldn't you?:

"On the same day in 1987 he's diagnosed with lung cancer, Roy Cady flees New Orleans, taking along Raquel Rocky Arceneaux, a pretty 18-year-old with a lurid past, whom he rescues from some hoods in the wake of a bloodbath. Rocky persuades him to stop in Orange, Texas, to pick up Tiffany, her three-year-old sister, and by the time they reach refuge in a rundown Galveston motel, 40-year-old Roy finds himself an unlikely father figure even as he struggles with a romantic attraction to Rocky. Pizzolatto's insightful portrayal of the heroic Roy, who takes a beating for trying to help the two girls, is rough and tumble real. As Pizzolatto switches smoothly between past and present, he vividly captures Galveston in all its desperate vulnerability as it faces the approach of Hurricane Ike in September 2008."

I'm sorry, Mr. Pizzolatto, but have we met somewhere before? This novel sounds like it was written to and for moi, not to sound self-centered or anything crazy like that. A lovable criminal? A deteriorating southern backdrop? A somewhat questionable love story? Um, yes, yes, and yes, wrap that up for me please.

Not to mention, the book is set practically in my back yard. My beloved father was once the district leading rusher for the Little Cypress Bears in Orange, Texas. And Hurricane Ike kept that same father (and mother and sister) stranded in Memorial for three weeks without power.

Will report back with post-read thoughts. But in the meantime, is it just wishful thinking or is there something of a Texas obsession lately? But if so, who's to blame for this? McCarthy? Maybe. He's a worthy scape goat. But I prefer to blame Tim Riggins. He's better looking.

Justified: A Review, or, A Quick Lesson in Showing vs. Telling (from a person unqualified to deliver such lessons)

So in honor of the one-week anniversary of my initial promise of a full-blown review of FX's new series Justified, I thought I might actually do that. I'm a fair-weather blogger, what can I say. (And we are having some darn fine weather here in NorCal.) Don't expect this baby all shiny-like on a book shelf any time soon!

Anywho, my initial assessment of the pilot is: hmmm. This is code for "C." Bordering on "C+." Maybe I had really high expectations. But the first episode left a little to be desired because...

Too much telling, not enough showing. The cardinal rule of good story-telling: show, don't tell. Is it possible to "tell" in the film/television versions of story-telling? Yes, friends, why yes it is. For example...

(Please don't ask me to direct-quote. My talents lie elsewhere. Brace yourself for some gross paraphrasing.)

Example: TELLING

In the pilot, we meet a former pal of Raylan's (Raylan is the lead, by the way) who's since left his coal-digging days behind and turned into a neo-Nazi terrorist. Since Raylan is the U.S. marshal hot on his heels, you'd think this would create some emotional conflict. Yeah, not really.

How many times do they need to tell us--through dialogue--that the main man and his white supremacist nemesis used to "dig coal together." We got it. But such telling does not a moral dilemma make. Raylan has to actually give two squirrels about the guy. And this was not demonstrated. Rather, we're supposed to buy said dilemma because we're being hit over the head with it through dialogue.

We didn't get a sense of the coal mining industry in KY and how it bonds men together. We didn't get to see another side of our protagonist or his blood-thirsty bigot of a former pal (which is even MORE interesting). Missed opportunities all around.

Example: SHOWING

Raylan heads to the courthouse to get a look at his ex-wife as she pounds the keys as a court reporter. She's all gorgeous with perfectly styled waves dangling in her face. (How does one type at break-neck speeds while hair hangs in one's face?) One of the best moments in the show! Point delivered! He still carries a torch for the ex! Well done! So much better than giving us another awkward line about how he's not over her. Which is hurl-inducing.

Example: TELLING

Darn-near final scene of the pilot. Raylan sneaks in to aforementioned ex's new home. They skirt onto the deck for a little chit chat (the new man in her life doesn't seem to be bothered by the fact that a) her ex husband just broke into their house or b) she's having a quiet moment with him...still in their house)). She says something like "If you were gonna shoot him you would have done it six years ago when I left you."

Ugh. Quick. Cram in some back story. Like we give a whiz how long it's been.

They chit chat some more, about what I can't really remember, it was that uninteresting. But the conversation eventually leads her to say, "Raylan, you're the angriest man I've ever known."

Ugh. Missed opportunities a'plenty.

Please. Don't tell us the guy's got deep, dark, chocolate layers. That he's battling his own demons, rage, and pain as he wipes clean the streets of Lexington. Show us! We're begging you! Poor Olyphant doesn't have two twigs to rub together to make some fire for his character. You tell me, would you rather see he's an angry man through the plot, the acting, etc? Not through dialogue?

The producers of this show could take a few cues from those of Breaking Bad, which is probably the best show on TV right now. The main character, Walt, an over-qualified high school chemistry teacher turned meth cook, is a pretty angry dude. Right away, we know why. His career is in the toilet. He's probably dying of cancer. Soon. And he's broke. Do they find not-so-clever way to tell us Walt's angry? No way. Instead, they have Walt do surprisingly uncharacteristic things like hurl a pizza onto his soon-to-be-ex-wife's roof. ANGRY MEN TEND TO LOSE THEIR COOL once in a while. So far, Raylan's got it together. Despite the telling, I'm having a hard time buying this angry business.

Despite this glaring flaw, will I keep watching? Yes! I have hope. Mostly because the plot itself has promise and it's got some interesting female characters (battered housewife shoots her husband and happens to be Raylan's high school crush). But the script needs some work and ole Timothy needs to kick it up a notch in the acting department. I'd like to keep thinking Hitman was a fluke.

On 'New Project' Temptations

How sweet it is. A deliciously exciting new idea for a book. You're out for a jog. The dog poops directly on the sidewalk. You are grateful that you brought two baggies instead of one, for he pooped on the sidewalk once already. You pick up said poop, walk to trashcan, and then BAM! It drops out of the sky like bird poop on a windshield. (Lots of poo imagery, I know, I'm stopping, but this is how it happens sometimes.)

Characters, fully formed. A more-than-skeletal plot. Tension. Conflict. The whole enchilada. You run home, fire up lap top and begin writing outline. Then you have flashes of dialogue. Write that down. A scene. Write that down. You are flying high, a bounce in your step. Then the bounce is gone when you remember, "Oh yeah, I'm spoken for."

That other manuscript. The one you've been working on for so long and it's al-most-finished. It was love at first sight with that idea too. What's to be done?

Does this happen to you? Fellow aspiring writers? Even former aspiring writers (aka published)? I'm struggling with this at the moment. One, I feel I'm cheating on my other idea. Two, it makes me wonder if my old idea isn't as great as I think it is and that's why I'm being tempted away. How does one battle the allure??

Here's my plan: 1st draft for manuscript one is almost finished. (Literally. But a few straggling scenes left to go.) Exercise discipline (?) to finish 1st draft. Then, while manuscript one cooks, begin working on idea two. Sound good?

I know I'm not the only story-oriented person this has happened to. How do you rationalize it? How do you to go forth and FINISH SOMETHING when such slithery temptations are on the horizon?