A few years ago my wife suggested her daughter, my step-daughter, take martial arts to help her grow self-discipline and control.
“She can’t do martial arts classes,” I said.
“Why not?”
“Because, then I’d have to take martial arts.”
“Why?”
“To defend myself. I can’t have a nine-year-old have the ability to beat me up.”
I’m a bad parent but I don’t have to look over my shoulder.
The Last Bookstore is a used book store and, well, I guess, an art space. If not an art space, then it is a celebration of books. The two-story shop includes old and new books with fun art displays made out of mostly books. I went there this week as part of the Downtown Art Walk in Los Angeles (2nd Thursday of the month). They have a half dozen stores on the second floor which were closed on a daytime visit but a sign said they were open during the Art Walk so this month I got to enjoy them.
I only to the bookstore as I wanted to see the art stores, but since it houses so many books, including a room full of books that only cost a dollar, it’s hard to leave without at least one purchase. I managed to limit myself to two.
As I’m currently writing a comedy mystery I’ve been reading any pulpy, preferably silly, mystery novels. From Sherlock to Fletch, I’ve been working my way through all sorts of puzzling thrillers for inspiration, to make fun of, and get an idea of genre expectations. At The Last Bookstore I found a book based on the 60s TV series The Man From Uncle. The characters I’m writing about we’re originally created for a web series which heavily referenced The Man From Uncle. For example. each episode of the show and therefore my web series had the naming convention of “The _____ Affair.”
I would watch repeats of The Man From Uncle all the time as a kid, not in an ironic way either, I genuinely loved the show. I haven’t revisited it as I’m scared it wont live up to the memory. It was in no way campy to me at the time, it was a fun and thrilling adventure. Today, a book version seems like a fine way to get reacquainted, since novels are the sandbox I’m playing in right now.
There are over twenty in the series (written from 1964 to 1968) and I picked out number 18, mainly because it had the most fun title “The Unfair Fare Affair.”
I’m a Kindle man so I prefer to have a digital copy keep the shelf space, although I’ll probably donate this once read to keep my bookshelf thin, I appreciate having this original 60s book. It’s a little time-machine that show me what books were like back in the day. The back pages include an order form to buy back issues. You’d send off a cheque for 60 cents per book and mail it to them.
I forget that’s how people used to do business before the likes of Amazon. Just 15 years ago I remember being excited about having my first cheque book because I could buy things by mail order without asking my parents for help.
Oh how I am tempted to send off and order 46 years later and see what kind of a response I get.
I’m writing a novella (which is quickly turning into a full blown novel) and I’ve been having a hard time choosing what narrative to write in. The options are:
First Person: When it’s from the point of view of a character (I did this, we did that).
Second Person: This is the choose your own adventure one (you do this, you do that), this was never an option I was interested in.
Third Person: When it’s an omnipresent voice describing everything (he does this, she does that).
Having only written screenplays before I’ve always written in the third person. I thought it would be fun to write in the first person. If I’m being honest, I will admit I also did it to cover my own writing neurosis. If anyone said it was poorly written I could just say “That’s the character’s voice, not mine.”
The novella I’m writing is a comedy mystery and the genre is butting heads with the first person narrative. For starts, in a mystery you want the murder, or whatever mystery, to happen in the first chapter to hook people in. My character’s don’t get involved in the mystery right away so the suspense is missing from the first chapter. By writing in the third person, I can now set up my mystery and then set up my characters as I like.
Also, when writing for film and TV I try to remember the following quote:
Tragedy is a close-up; comedy, a long shot.”
– Buster Keaton
A situation is funnier when there is a separation between the audience/reader and the character. Being involved in a murder mystery would be pretty intense stuff. So it’s hard to find the humour when the character is talking about how scared they are. In the third person it becomes a silly romp.
Now working on the second draft I feel more comfortable with the story, and my writing, so I feel confident in writing in the third person, using my voice, taking both the praise and the flak for it.
Let’s see how this turns out…
The villagers let it be known they were in need of a hero. Wanted, the decree began, one knight to save the princess and slay the dragon.
The Knight heeded the call and traveled on his trusty horse to the village.
“I have arrived,” said the Knight. “What seems to be the problem?”
“It is the dragon,” the Mayor said. “The beast must be fed young maidens or it will destroy the village. It has eaten half the maidens so far. Through lottery the princess has been chosen and will be sent to the lake where the dragon dwells.”
“It told you this I assume.”
“Well… No.” The Mayor’s face crumpled with confusion. “It’s just what dragons do isn’t it.”
“Not necessarily,” the Knight said.
By now the villagers had come to witness, and an audience had grown.
“Listen. are you going to kill the dragon or not?” The Mayor asked abruptly.
“Did you even ask it if it likes the taste of maidens? Have you tried feeding it sheep, or oxen, or pie?”
The villagers muttered amongst themselves. They had not.
“Let us go to the lake now,” the Knight suggested. “We shall bring a pot luck and feast with the beast.”
The villagers cooked and baked and headed to the lake. It was a wonderful party, the dragon came out and sighed with relief. It smiled and flew around with excitement. When the meat went cold the dragon heated it with fire. The dragon even fended off some bears that with were attracted by the food. The children rewarded the dragon by rubbing it’s belly.
A happy arrangement was made, the dragon would protect the village, and the village would feed the dragon.
“Now,” said the Knight, “As reward I wish to take the princess’s hand in marriage.”
“You didn’t do anything,” the Mayor said. And the villagers chased out the Knight as they called him a wimp.