Only known footage of Alice Liddell. (The inspiration for Alice's Adventures in Wonderland)

So Far "Ruthless" is a Really Fun Read

About halfway into this week, Ed Calkins began sending me final drafts of Ruthless for editing.

We are up to thirteen of the twenty-four (including the prologue).

I returned a sample chapter and did a close read and some general editing. Over the next few weekends, I'll be a bit pickier.

For those reading this blog for the first time, Ruthless is the Ed Calkins back story and will be part of my BryonySeries.

Ed Calkins is a real person who allowed himself to be fictionalized, legally, for my series. A BryonySeries fan asked me to write his back story. 

But if you know Ed (the man or the myth), you will know that's a story only Ed can write. He's been working on it all year.

Here are some of my initial thoughts:

This book is not for everyone, even if you are a fan of the BryonySeries, due to the brand of strange humor it contains.

You know how some authors like feel their book is for everyone? I can (kind of) say that about Ruthless. It has something offensive for nearly everyone. 

But the biggest putdowns are in Ed's direction. And I think many readers (if they are honest with themselves) will relate to his self-deprecating form of humor since it is very, very human.

For example, Ed, as an imaginary "ruthless dictator," when faced by angry mobs he must address, hides under his desk and must be coaxed out by his secretary. 

"Ruthless" is like Lewis Carroll for adults. You have no idea where Ed is taking the story or what he might do in each sentence (the fact he's dyslexic adds to the puzzle, so lots of copy editing as I was reading), which is part of what makes this fun to read (for me, at least). 

And yet, I could see the underlying structure and purpose in the work, even if I can't tell where it's heading.

I never laughed so hard at a single, well-placed word ("Bunny").

But then, I did a lot of laughing out loud.

The characters are over the top and strangely very human.

If you've read Staked!, you will understand the mirror concept. However, Ed has taken it to degrees I never imagined and made woven it into his story in ways that makes total (non)sense.

Satan is a were-goat (part goat, part leprechaun) and speaks in Gaelic brogue.

A few BryonySeries characters make cameo appearances (and some, cameo mentions). Glorna is a secondary character, as is Angela. But they may not be as you recall them. 

This is fine with me because Ed Calkins the character is completely unreliable as a narrator. If you've read the book young adult "drop of blood" BryonySeries trilogy, you'll know what I mean.

I make a cameo appearance as The Goddess. And that nickname preceded the current one from Ed (Mistress of My Immortality). He adds a flashback on how that nickname came to be (and splices that scene together with one from Visage).

Speaking of "The Goddess," today I enter the last full day of my second at-home writing retreat of 2020.

I might not hit every goal and some of my resolve went sideways (I actually did some marketing last night), but I will be very close, and I accomplished a few additional projects that ought to forgive the rest.

But I still have a day and a half. It's not over yet.

BryonySeries Throwback Thursday: I'm Behind and It's Getting Done Anyway, Go Figure!

Monday, September 12, 2011

I'm Behind and It's Getting Done Anyway, Go Figure!

"Well, in our country," said Alice, still panting a little, "you'd generally get to somewhere else -- if you ran very fast for a long time, as we've been doing."

"A slow sort of country!" said the Queen. "Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!"
(Lewis Carroll, "Through the Looking Glass.")


Ever have days like this?

I'm having a few WEEKS like this. My family has gone from crisis to crisis, and everytime we think we're catching up, well, life tosses another little ball of trouble to play with.

It's only Monday and my "to-do" list is way longer than my "ta-da" list for all of last week. Just a few days ago, someone from Bryony's marketing team expressed real concern I'd have no time to attend events, etc. I assured him I would accomplish what I must accomplish.

This weekend, new challenges arose while others that loomed ferocious last week simply melted away. This morning, the weight of still more are pressing upon me, screaming for attention.

My publicist calls out of the blue, and I answer with a cheery, convoluted greeting I've already forgotten. No matter. She laughed and asked, "Do you invent these just for me?"

"No," I told her honestly, "They're to keep me sane."

Today, for all its stressors, has been a day of pleasant surprises.

For instance, erlier this month, I stepped out in faith and accepted an acquaintance's offer to shoulder a big project for me. I didn't understand the task, the time committment to her, and what the job entailed, but to outsource it would be expensive, so I reluctantly agreed, then stalled, figuring she'd forget about it.

She didn't. She called--many times--and insisted she could get it done for me in a timely fashion, so please, please, please do not outsource it. I prayed, then sent the information her way.

While she worked, I fretted. What if she had made empty promises? What if she exaggerated her abilities? After all, I only had her word she could do it. What if she an emergency on her home front prohibited completion? I was, after all, on deadline.

I even shared my fears with her. She just good-naturedly laughed at me and said, "God is in control." In return, I asked for step-by-step timelines and multiple reassurances of her ability to meet the deadline.

Then, this morning, there it was, sitting in my inbox. The most difficult part of the job was done, ready for my approval. It's beautiful and professionally formatted. She is now ready to tackle another project for me, out of the kindness of her heart. Is God not good?

So, with my heaping schedule overflowing, I squeezed an extra interview into my morning to help out a local pastor turned artist about his upcoming event.

I knew about the event months in advance, but the information I needed was not sent until Friday. His event is this Friday, almost too late to get a story sent in time, but I picked up the phone and called him anyway. Boy, am I glad I did.

Conversing with him was real joy. He fought depression after the death of a fellow pastor and found healing in painting. His delight in the process of creating spilled into his words. I knew that feeling from writing Bryony. I was happy I'd called.

A late afternoon appointment just cancelled, opening a door to dig into that stack of work. But first, I met with two lovely women to learn about a very special christening dress with an interesting "Bryony" twist.

Mums the word until the Herald News runs the story first.

A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky by Lewis Carroll

"A BOAT BENEATH A SUNNY SKY" by Lewis Carroll
From "Through the Looking Glass," 1872.


A boat beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July --

Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear --

Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.

Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.

Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:

Ever drifting down the stream --
Lingering in the golden dream --
Life, what is it but a dream?

I'm Behind and It's Getting Done Anyway, Go Figure!

"Well, in our country," said Alice, still panting a little, "you'd generally get to somewhere else -- if you ran very fast for a long time, as we've been doing."

"A slow sort of country!" said the Queen. "Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!"
(Lewis Carroll, "Through the Looking Glass.")


Ever have days like this?

I'm having a few WEEKS like this. My family has gone from crisis to crisis, and everytime we think we're catching up, well, life tosses another little ball of trouble to play with.

It's only Monday and my "to-do" list is way longer than my "ta-da" list for all of last week. Just a few days ago, someone from Bryony's marketing team expressed real concern I'd have no time to attend events, etc. I assured him I would accomplish what I must accomplish.

This weekend, new challenges arose while others that loomed ferocious last week simply melted away. This morning, the weight of still more are pressing upon me, screaming for attention.

My publicist calls out of the blue, and I answer with a cheery, convoluted greeting I've already forgotten. No matter. She laughed and asked, "Do you invent these just for me?"

"No," I told her honestly, "They're to keep me sane."

Today, for all its stressors, has been a day of pleasant surprises.

For instance, erlier this month, I stepped out in faith and accepted an acquaintance's offer to shoulder a big project for me. I didn't understand the task, the time committment to her, and what the job entailed, but to outsource it would be expensive, so I reluctantly agreed, then stalled, figuring she'd forget about it.

She didn't. She called--many times--and insisted she could get it done for me in a timely fashion, so please, please, please do not outsource it. I prayed, then sent the information her way.

While she worked, I fretted. What if she had made empty promises? What if she exaggerated her abilities? After all, I only had her word she could do it. What if she an emergency on her home front prohibited completion? I was, after all, on deadline.

I even shared my fears with her. She just good-naturedly laughed at me and said, "God is in control." In return, I asked for step-by-step timelines and multiple reassurances of her ability to meet the deadline.

Then, this morning, there it was, sitting in my inbox. The most difficult part of the job was done, ready for my approval. It's beautiful and professionally formatted. She is now ready to tackle another project for me, out of the kindness of her heart. Is God not good?

So, with my heaping schedule overflowing, I squeezed an extra interview into my morning to help out a local pastor turned artist about his upcoming event.

I knew about the event months in advance, but the information I needed was not sent until Friday. His event is this Friday, almost too late to get a story sent in time, but I picked up the phone and called him anyway. Boy, am I glad I did.

Conversing with him was real joy. He fought depression after the death of a fellow pastor and found healing in painting. His delight in the process of creating spilled into his words. I knew that feeling from writing Bryony. I was happy I'd called.

A late afternoon appointment just cancelled, opening a door to dig into that stack of work. But first, I met with two lovely women to learn about a very special christening dress with an interesting "Bryony" twist.

Mums the word until the Herald News runs the story first.

"Making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil." Ephesians 5:16

"And thick and fast they came at last, and more, and more, and more." The Walrus and the Carpenter, Lewis Carroll.

Mr. Carroll was referring to oysters, but the lines certainly apply to my latest financial challenges: a gas bill that resembles the national debt; costly repairs for the van (not covered by warranty, of course); and various, sundry, miscellaneous expenses, all of which cost more than anticipated.

No, I'm not seeking pity. Rather, rejoice for me. These very circumstances permitted me to attend my niece and goddaughter's "Rite 13" ceremony yesterday.

When you deliver a gazillion newspapers on Sunday, assembling the troops for a worship service an hour away is impossible, so we submitted our regrets, but planned to attend the post-festivities afternoon barbecue. Then we did the math. We had one more person traveling than our most road-worthy vehicle could hold.

With current gas prices (and the inflated bill), no way was I putting two vehicles on the road. I decided to stay home and work instead (have plenty of that, praise God!), despite the ensuing chorus of objections. Then the Holy Spirit tapped me on the shoulder. I called my mother, asked what time she was leaving, and invited myself for the ride.

That left me half an hour after papers to get ready, assemble a suitable gift for my niece, and drive twenty minutes away ( I was only ten minutes late, too!).

Boy, was my niece surprised and happy to see me! It was worth the stress.

Writing Bryony happened sort of like that.

When the recession arrived and the budget tightened harder than Melissa's corset, I realized I could do one of two things: stress out (was already heading in that direction) or find something distracting. Since John Simons, proper vampire that he is, had made himself a free nest in my brain for over two decades, I decided it was high time he earned his keep.

So, I wrote it. And when more bad news sounded, I put my hands over my ears and said, "La, la, la, la, la! I'm in Munsonville; I can't hear you!"






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