Round and Round the Bradbury Bush

Great saying, eh? I first read it in the Ray Bradbury essays that Nic sent me for Christmas, Zen in the Art of Writing, and I like it so much that I’m putting it on my office board when I get back to work next week.

Back to reality, I mean.

I can’t say I’ve been drunk, but I’ve certainly been tiddly on writing during the past few weeks. I finished the Calista story in November but took this long to nail a title that doesn’t out and out suggest a cheeseball bodice-ripper—my original title of “The Devil’s Duchess” never sat comfortably, and when I ran it past my office-tea-fairy-slash-beta-reader, she did her best not to wrinkle her nose until I wrinkled mine, then she let herself release an unbridled sneer. I’m truly grateful that she didn’t barf, because I wanted to. Eventually, I settled on “The Devil She Knows” and filed Calista under “finished”.

Then, with more help from Ray Bradbury, I got the novel rolling again. Bradbury—whose fictional work I have never read—recommends following a character along whatever path he/she is walking (or running, in the case of sci-fi/suspense) or, better yet, jumping onto a landmine in the morning and picking up the pieces during the course of the day. I took his advice and punched through the barrier that’s hung me up for months on Reijo’s romance. It was more a matter of getting me out of the way and letting the characters run the sequence of events—I had a pre-conceived notion of said sequence and they were ignoring it. My continual efforts to redirect them proved so frustrating that we all gave up on the project. Now that I’m listening again, it’s proceeding much more smoothly, though the debris around the broken barrier will need some big time cleanup in the edit.

And, as of this morning, I am thisssss close to finishing “Black in Back”. I had written my protagonist into such a pickle that she couldn’t figure a way out, so I left her stranded with the villain for a few weeks while I concentrated on Christmas and Calista and a few other non-writing distractions. Again, I threw a Bradbury-style punch and she plunged through the hole, taking me with her rather than the other way around. Now I have an ending in sight and hope to have ’er done by Sunday night.

The biggest Bradbury fan I have known was our lone male in the 21^st Century Poets. His work was very much a nod to his idol’s genre, but Johnny, like the rest of the Poets, had his own magical style. He was also generous with his support for the rest of the gang in our communal flexing of the creative muscle. I will always hold him dear to my heart, but when Nic sent me the Bradbury book, she also sent me a flood of good-time memories, and a little nostalgia for the days of nonstop poetry and prose that I shared with a unique band of creative spirits.

Zen in the Art of Writing is the first collection of literary essays that I am using as a textbook, marking it up with a highlighter and scribbly notes in the margins. Normally I like my books to look like they’ve been read but remain relatively pristine. It seems appropriate that Bradbury, who recommends a punch to kickstart a project, authored the first book to be so punched. I expect to gain more nuggets from the pages, but every time I pick it up, my first thought will be a fond one for the Poets’ JP Jensen.

Wherever you are, write on, Johnny.