Archive for the ‘Writing’ Category
Jason Cordova’s “Wraithkin” — and Music?
Folks, it seems to be my week for stories, so let me tell you another one.
Years ago — I’m not sure how many, now — my late husband Michael told me, “Barb, I swear, you think in music, not words.” It was Michael’s contention that every time I wrote something, I was automatically translating it from the music I heard in my head.
I don’t know if that’s true or not, mind. But it was a poetic conceit he enjoyed, and as such, I appreciated it.
For some reason, that came to mind when I recently read an advance reader copy of Jason Cordova’s WRAITHKIN. Something about this book reminds me of a musical suite, and as I’m both a musician and a writer, I thought I’d use that to my advantage to try to explain why I like this book so much.
As I’m having no luck today uploading the cover, here’s the blurb instead:
How far would a man go to protect those he loved? For Gabriel Espinoza, the answer was simple: to the ends of the universe.
When a failed genetic test ruins his life, Gabriel and his fiancée prepare to run to a world where the laws aren’t as strict. There they could remain, in peace, for the remainder of their days, their love unspoiled by the strict regime which controls the Dominion of Man.
But Fate is a cruel, fickle mistress.
Torn from the only woman he had ever loved, Gabriel is prepared to burn the galaxy to get her back.
How far would a man go to protect the empire he was sworn to uphold? For Andrew Espinoza, the answer was a bit more complicated.
Torn between family loyalty and his duty to his country, Andrew must infiltrate a rich and powerful clan to determine if they are plotting against the Dominion of Man, but while undercover he discovers something far darker and more dangerous is lurking in the shadows, and he is the only man who can stop it.
But Fate is a cruel, fickle mistress.
How far will Andrew go to ensure the success of his mission?
One brother must save himself; the other must save the universe. But can either survive long enough to achieve their goal?
Now, here are my musically-related thoughts:
To my mind, WRAITHKIN is like a symphony in four parts. First, we have a slower, quieter, more intense first movement, where all the major themes are laid out. We meet Gabe and Sophie, see their love for one another, see it dashed after Gabe fails a genetic test (technically, he’s supposed to be sterilized right away, but his family is wealthy and powerful and keeps that from happening), and then they attempt to run away.
But Sophie has to pretend to be angry, and leaves her world in feigned grief and despair, meaning she goes out to a lightly defended colony world all but undefended. And when Gabe finds out that world has been attacked, and Sophie is missing, he vows revenge.
Then we have the second movement, which is more about Gabe’s brother, Andrew. Andrew is a spy, pure and simple, or if you’d rather, he’s a chameleon/mole. He has been trained to do what he does, but because of that, he submerges himself in other people’s roles — or, as this is my blog, the music of other people’s thoughts. So while the second movement moves faster, and hints at much, it uses similar themes as the first, but reversed and in retrograde…as befits a symphony, where many things must come together to make a greater whole.
The third movement is about how Gabe meets up with a bunch of guys in his position — they all have failed genetic tests, so are considered expendables, the lowest of the low. But they all want to serve…something. Or at least blow up stuff. So there’s training involved, and a bunch of gadgetry to use, and all the military SF trappings that are required are there for the use…almost as if there’s a template for the third movement.
Still, there are touches of humor. Pathos. Genuine characterization. Friendship, all unlooked for, and camaraderie, too…proving, as if there was any doubt whatsoever, that new music can be reminiscent of older music, but still pack a walloping punch.
Then comes the fourth movement. Andrew and Gabe must somehow complete their joint missions. Will they manage to do this, or won’t they? And what will be the consequences either way?
This fourth movement ties up all the themes of the book nicely, and lays hints for books to come…kind of like how if you’ve heard one symphony by Haydn or Brahms or Mozart, you want to go hear another one if you’re smart. They all have things in common, sure, but they’re all a little different and they all have much to teach you, much for you to appreciate, and much to savor, time after time…
Anyway, I liked Jason’s book quite a bit, in case you couldn’t tell. I think it has a little bit of everything. Slam-bang action. Romance. Family. Friendship. A big canvas, with a dystopian government to be alternately fought and defended…Jason’s writing keeps getting better and better, and this is a story to immerse yourself in fully.
That’s why I compared it to music, and I hope you’ll understand why, once you read it.
(And do go read it, will you? If you like milSF, you will love this book. And even if you don’t, but like big novels full of life and vigor, you will still love this book…)
Monday Motivation: Transcending Fear
Sometimes, the toughest thing to do as a writer is to get out of your own way.
As this is a Monday Motivation post — meaning I’m trying, deliberately, to give some inspiration to some writer somewhere who’s having trouble, and thinks he or she is the only one in the world who’s ever suffered this — I figured I’d talk about one of the biggest problems writers have: transcending fear.
“But Barb,” you say, “why write if it’s so hard to get past your fear of what’s going to come out?”
I’m not sure why I write, entirely, except that I need to do it. (Stories to tell and miles to go…all that.) However, because I want my writing to reflect as much “real life” angst and heartbreak and agony — along with love, compassion, and kindness, natch — I have to be willing to put everything I have, everything I am, onto the page. Without judgment, without second-guessing, without…I don’t know…Editor Voice getting in the way and saying, “You can’t do that.”
So there is some fear involved, with writing, if you do it right. You may not think about it much, at the time, but it’s still there, waiting for the moment to pounce.
Why?
We’re all bundles of ego and nerves, you see, and when you’re creating something new, it’s agonizing. Or exhilirating. Or nerve-racking. Or all of it at once.
And I’m not the only writer in the history of the world to think this, either. (Far from it.) Ralph Keyes thought so much about this idea, he wrote a book called THE COURAGE TO WRITE: How Writers Transcend Fear. In Keyes’ book, he discusses many different reasons as to why writers worry so much about what other people will think of them, their writing, their descriptions, their everything…and why, ultimately, you should listen to your own “inner voice” and throw all of that out, so you can get on with the job of writing.
Ultimately, Keyes’ point is that writers are gamblers by nature. We take risks, and we need to take them, because that is how we’re made. And one of those risks we take, every day we sit down to write, is in how what we write is going to be perceived.
It’s something I know, that fear. I push past it, because I have to do it; maybe it helps that unlike many of my fellow writers, I was trained as a performing musician, and thus have had to deal with my own nerves, and my own fears of failed performance in action, from early life onward.
But you, too, can get past your own fear. You can get out of your own way, and write…you can find a way to silence Editor Voice, at least for long enough to do what you need to do.
So, just for today, don’t be afraid of what comes out when you sit down to write. Give yourself room, and time, and watch the words flow out, no matter what they are.
That way, you get past your fear, and you do what you were born to do.
Presidential Recount in WI — History in the Making
During the last couple of weeks, as I recuperated from the move (and all the sturm und drang thereby), I’ve been watching the United States and its politics with more than my usual share of bemusement.
Why is that? Well, we had a Presidential election where one person, Hillary Clinton, was fully expected to win. Yet she was not the winner; instead, Donald Trump somehow came out of nowhere and took the election away from her.
(Yes, I’m phrasing that precisely. Give me time, please.)
Because of the many statements Mr. Trump gave over the past eighteen or so months, (he confessed to disliking and mistrusting Muslims, to name just one example), many ordinary Americans were concerned at his election to the Presidency of the United States. Marches ensued, most of them peaceful, to show Mr. Trump and those who stand with him that the United States is not a racist, sexist, misogynistic, or LGBTQ-hating country.
Now, to Mr. Trump’s supporters, these marches seem nonsensical. Why protest something that hasn’t happened yet? We’re supposed to give every new President-elect time to show his or her true colors, and we usually do as a nation.
And yet, this was far from an ordinary election. Mr. Trump said many incendiary things. And people are already concerned about Mr. Trump’s apparent lack of impulse control…plus, when you add in all the statements Mr. Trump made about the election being “rigged,” that gave many a cause for concern.
Including Green Party Presidential candidate Jill Stein, of all people, who was one of two people to file for a Presidential recount in the state of Wisconsin after raising millions of dollars in just a few days to do so. The Green Party has said they don’t expect to find many improprieties, but they do want to know what happened in Wisconsin.
As a Wisconsin voter, so do I.
I don’t know what happened in Wisconsin, but I would’ve bet money — a lot of it, if I had it — that Donald Trump could not win this state. Considering Democrats were highly motivated to vote, and there was and remains a sizable #NeverTrump faction as well, I don’t understand at all how he won here.
A recount should answer that question, once and for all.
And lest you think I’m only asking for this as an avowed Hillary Clinton voter, think again. I am all for recounts. I’ve even taken part in one before as a neutral observer — the recount of the state Supreme Court race between Justice David Prosser and challenger JoAnne Kloppenburg. What that recount found was that there were uncounted votes out there, and it did narrow the gap between Prosser and Kloppenburg slightly — not enough to swing that election, mind you, but enough to show that there were indeed some additional votes that hadn’t been properly tallied the first time around.
This time, though, may turn out to be different.
Already, in three Wisconsin counties, votes have been taken away from Mr. Trump — enough of them that Mr. Trump’s lead over Mrs. Clinton has shrunk by 5,000 votes. (And when you only win by 27,000 votes to begin with — less than 1% difference — that’s a sizable difference right there.) This is before the recount; this is what county clerks have found on their own, without prompting — errors much bigger than any found during the Prosser-Kloppenburg recount.
So, if the county clerks are already finding problems before the recount, just how many other problems are they going to find during it?
Before you ask, I fully believe that the county clerks of the state of Wisconsin are reliable, sober professionals. Regardless of their party affiliation, they want to do a good job. (Kathy Nickolaus, former county clerk of Waukesha County, did not seem to know what she was doing. But thankfully, she’s out of office now.) They certainly don’t want anyone to believe that the vote was tampered with — or if it was, they want to know about it first, and figure out how to stop it from happening ever again.
But something odd happened here. Something that does not sit right with me. I am a long-time political observer who’s called at least 25 elections successfully, and yet this one, somehow, I didn’t? When there was no raw data to suggest silent Trump voters before the fact? (And considering how loud and proud some of those Trump voters have proven to be nationwide, the whole idea of silent Trump voters seems like an oxymoron anyway. Just sayin’.)
So I’m happy we’re going to have a recount of the 2016 Presidential election.
No, I don’t expect it to flip the state of Wisconsin for Hillary Clinton. But if it does, I’d not be entirely surprised, either…because it’s been that sort of year, hasn’t it?
Anyway, expect more posts on this subject, as I am vitally interested in the results. (And I do intend to be a neutral observer, again, if I can. Why not?)
Moving, Writing, Editing, and All…
Folks, my move has finally been completed.
The reason this took so long is because the person I used to live with decided to go into an apartment. I helped her move, along with other friends and family members, as well as move whatever of my things that I could, downsizing where need be of course.
As you might expect, writing has been scarce. Mostly I’ve been concerned with moving, a little with CHANGING FACES (about to go in to my publisher), a little with editing, and otherwise with letting my friends and family know that I’m still alive despite all this hard physical work.
I’m partially disabled and walk with a cane, as most of you know. Carrying boxes, even boxes made intentionally light, is not easy for me. Going up and down steps over and over again to try to figure out what needs to be taken to where, what can be donated to do some good elsewhere, and what needs to be scrapped was exhausting.**
So why did I do it, if it was so incredibly difficult? Mostly it’s because to refuse to help would be beneath contempt.
When someone needs my help, I try to help if it’s in my power. (If it’s not, I do what I can to pass them along to someone who can.) I don’t say, “Not my problem” or “You made your bed; lie in it.” I don’t see the point to that ninety-nine point nine percent of the time.
Yeah, there are few people I’d go to this limit for, but there was a reason for it. (I can’t say what it is, but someday, maybe, I’ll be able to do that.) And because I saw that reason, and understood that reason, I figured I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t try as hard as I could to improve the situation and get my former housemate into that new apartment as best I could.
Anyway, my hope is that now, life will calm down a little, and I can get back to what I do best — writing, editing, playing music, and enjoying life as best I can.
Some days it’s harder to do all of that than others, but I am going to give it the best shot I can — as that’s what makes the most sense to me.
——–
**On the plus side, I guess I didn’t need a gym membership the last few weeks. (So there is that.)
Challenge Your Assumptions
Folks, I needed to take time out from packing, sorting, and moving-type stuff to tell you something I’ve found to enrich my life immensely.
What is it? The need to constantly, constantly challenge your own assumptions.
“But why, Barb?” you ask.
We live in an increasingly polarized world that seems to be filled with echo chambers.Many people only associate with those who agree with every single thing they say — whether it’s online or offline, that means their own assumptions are not getting challenged.
And that’s not a good thing.
You see, if you don’t challenge your own assumptions now and again, you’re being intellectually lazy. And that’s boring…plus, it shows that you haven’t thought everything through. That may lead to problems later on that could be exploited by others for their own gain, or at least for your own detriment.
That could be embarrassing. At best.
So that’s one reason to start challenging yourself and your assumptions.
Another reason is that if you are willing to challenge your own assumptions, you may be able to have friends with different beliefs than your own. Then, you can learn from them — maybe they learn from you, too? — and you become a wiser, kinder, and better person overall. (Hey, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.)
So, that’s why I try every day to challenge at least a few of my assumptions…I may stay with the ones I had originally, or I may not, but either way, I’m not living an intellectually lazy life.
And that matters.
Anyway, back to moving work, already in progress…
Writing During Stressful Times
Folks, I’m glad I can post something a little happier today.
During all this upheaval, I’ve continued to work on CHANGING FACES, and occasionally, other stories as I’ve had them. (CF is obviously the priority, though.) Sometimes, it’s slow-going. Other times, it flows out like water, and makes so much sense, I look at it and go, “Did I really write that?”
I think we all feel that way, as creative people. Whether you’re a writer, or a musician, or a cake-baker, or any other creative pursuit, there are times when creation is difficult. And there are times when it seemingly comes as easy as breathing.
Right now, I’m dealing with a lot of stress. Yet I must write, and I must finish CF as fast as I can, but also as well as I can. A hasty effort after all this time and energy put in would waste what I’ve done already.
I know what I need to do, you see. These stressful times may slow me up, but damn it, they’re not going to stop me.
So, last night I worked on chapters 46 and 47. And I’m proud of that, as it’s not easy to believe in something better right now…but I did it, and I’m glad.
As for how others get through stressful times in their lives but still write, I don’t know. In the past, I’ve written prose notes (what I think is going on with the story, without dialogue) if I have nothing else, just to make progress; I’ve also looked at the work-in-progress and meditated on what I’ve already done, to remind me that I don’t have to give in to the fear that the stress will keep me from completing my work in a timely fashion.
And sometimes, I go back and read other things I’ve written, just to remind myself I have a long baseline. I’ve created before and will create again, and just because I have an off night or a series of off nights, that does not at all mean I’m done and can’t do anything else, ever. (That is melodrama, and I need to stop that, cold.)
If anyone else has any tips for writing while under great stress, though, I’d love to hear ’em!
More Thoughts on Love
Folks, one of my friends asked me something just now that I thought I should respond to, so here goes.
I was asked if I believed I could find love again. My answer is yes, I do think so.
At first, I thought it was completely impossible. Love is a once in a lifetime thing, and it’s so rare, its delicacy has to be savored while you have it.
But I’ve had twelve years to think, since my late husband Michael died. And here’s the conclusions I’ve come to…
First, I think every person, every soul, has something to offer that’s unique and distinct and different. So it’s possible to see that, and appreciate that, and try to see if a true connection can be made down the line.
Second, while no one else can be Michael, it’s possible that someone else can be so uniquely himself, so very special and wonderful in his own right, that I’d have to stand up and take notice.
I don’t want to shut down opportunities before they present themselves, mind. But these two thoughts are still quite new. I am trying to figure out what I can bring to the table with anyone else, while still continuing on as myself — the woman who loved Michael B. Caffrey to distraction, and who will always love him.
I hope that down the line, someone special will see what I can give. And what I can receive. And what is possible…maybe is more than I initially thought.
Honestly, I have no idea what will happen next. But I do know this: Michael would kick my butt from here to Kingdom Come if I didn’t try to live my life, enjoy whatever I can wring from it, and do whatever I can to become the best person I can.
So he’d not want me to shut myself off, as I have done. Which is why I’m trying to stay open to possibility, and to choice…even though it’s not easy for me.
Why I Stand with Trek Against Trump…and for Hillary Clinton
Folks, most of you know that I have been firmly in Hillary Clinton’s corner since 2008. I supported her then, I support her now, and I am voting for her for President.
But the reason I’m writing this post today is because of the actors, directors, producers, and writers of STAR TREK (various versions) who’ve identified themselves as Trek Against Trump, and have come out with a statement thereby.
Why is this so important to me? Well, early in my life, I learned to love the original STAR TREK series. That was the first time I saw a racially diverse crew take on all comers, survive and thrive, and live in harmony with each other. Even though there were setbacks, and the humans of the 23rd Century (and later, 24th) were not perfect people by any means, they were hard-working, dedicated to self-improvement and a belief that scientific knowledge along with good common sense could get us anywhere — even the stars.
People could be of different backgrounds, different ethnicities, different gender-flavors, and still get along. Different races such as the Vulcans, Klingons, Andorians, and more could meet with human beings and find some common ground.
I took that knowledge and internalized it. And it certainly gave me more of a belief that I, too, could change the world…or at least myself, if I tried hard enough. It showed me that SF&F stories could make a positive difference, which was enormously important to me, especially as I grew up to become a SF&F writer (no matter how little-known).
One of the things I truly admired about STAR TREK from the get-go is that the crew of the Enterprise (or Deep Space Nine, or Voyager, etc.) were not afraid to stand up for what they believed in, even when it wasn’t popular and even when it was far ahead of its time. The various crews over the years always tried to do the best they possibly could, and learn from their mistakes, too — something more of us, even now, need to have reinforced from time to time.
At any rate, I’m very pleased to stand with Trek Against Trump, because I believe Donald Trump is a clear and present danger to the United States.**
That Donald Trump can fire off a series of Tweets at a former contestant of one of his beauty pageants because he felt she was “too fat” when he, himself, is far from svelte is distracting enough, and shows completely unPresidential character. But that he says he wants to “Make America Great Again” by “knowing more about ISIS than the generals do” and consult mostly with himself (as he’s said over and over again in speeches) is profoundly disturbing.
As a student of history, I am appalled that Donald Trump has a legitimate chance to be the next President of the United States. He has the potential to be someone akin to Mussolini, Stalin, or Hitler — and those are not the personages the next POTUS should wish to emulate.
To those who believe that Hillary Clinton would be just as bad or worse in office, and who live in the United States, I must say this: What are you smoking?
No, she’s not perfect. Yes, there are things I wish she’d have done differently, like never having the private e-mail server.
But she’s a smart, tough, and tenacious woman, and she can work with anyone. If people hate her, she doesn’t care about that; she still goes in there and tries to get the best deal she can.
I also believe Hillary Clinton would work for all the people, even those who refuse to vote for her, even those misanthropic types who call her the “c-word,” even those who just don’t seem to get that this is the most important election in the United States that we’ve possibly ever had.
We have two major party candidates, folks. Chances are one of ’em is going to be the next POTUS…and for the sake of sanity, that person should not be Donald J. Trump.
I know full well that many of my friends can’t abide Hillary Clinton. I also know that most of those same friends can’t abide Donald Trump, either, even though they’re mostly for wildly different reasons. But those of you who aren’t scared to death at the possibility of a Donald Trump Presidency are lying to yourselves.
———
Note: I thought long and hard about writing this, too, but it needed to be said. I could not sit silent on this one, even though CHANGING FACES continues to hang fire. I know perfectly well that a big, beautiful woman who writes SF&F stories (including a story with two transgender protagonists like CF) is not someone Trump would even want in his conception of America. That is the main reason I spoke up now.
Second note: I am not quite as worried about people voting for Gary Johnson as the Trek Against Trump folks are for one reason. I think if you’ve always voted GOP or Lib, providing you vote against Trump, that’s a vote he’s expecting to get that he will not get. And a vote for Johnson is still a vote Trump does not get…thank the Deity Above.
**Third Note: The Cincinnati Enquirer said this before I did, last week, in this editorial where they endorsed Hillary Clinton after many years of only endorsing GOP candidates. I read that editorial after writing this blog post.
Meditations on Failure
Folks, I thought long and hard about what to blog about today. There are so many subjects in the news, including Donald Trump’s odd and nonsensical comments about a past Miss Universe contestant (why Trump should care about anyone else’s weight but his own is beyond me), but I decided on this one. I hope you enjoy it.
Failure.
What does it mean, and can we learn anything from it?
Of course, we all know what failure means, roughly. We tried something, and it didn’t work out. That could’ve been anything — a job, a relationship, a creative pursuit, whatever. But some failures hurt more than others, and that’s why I wanted to talk about it today.
Can we learn anything from failure? Can we improve ourselves, and how we move on about our daily business, a little better because we’ve failed at something? Does it make us more empathetic toward others, as it’s a universal condition?
I’d like to think the answer to all of the above questions is yes.
Look. We’ve all done something, said something, or failed to do something or say something that has hurt someone else — or ourselves. We’ve all had days where we didn’t live up to our highest standards; we’ve had days where we couldn’t get anything done; we’ve had days where the only thing that seems constant is the pressure all around us, mocking us, telling us that what we’ve done and said and been has not been enough.
In other words, failure seems like it’s a reinforcement of negative thoughts. But it doesn’t have to be that way.
I’d rather look at failure in a different way, if you don’t mind. Failure is where you tried something that just did not work, for whatever reason. You learned something, probably, even if you don’t realize exactly what that thing was, and you’re going to move forward with a greater knowledge of yourself and others…which, if you think about it from a more healing direction, is a win/win.
“But Barb,” you say. “What about just feeling like a failure, when you’ve not done anything wrong? What about that?”
Hm. That’s a tougher one to talk about, but I’ll try anyway.
Those of us who deal with a great deal of stress every day are going to have times where we can’t do that much. That’s just the way life is. That does not make you a failure, for understanding that you’re going to have a bad day or three here and there.
So, even if you have a bad day, or a whole series of them, please do not think that makes you a permanent failure.
All it means is that you’ve had a bad day (or a series of them).
“But how can I turn that to my advantage, Barb?” you ask, pulling worriedly at your hair. (Yes, I can see you from here. I know you’re doing that. Or some other nervous tic.)
Well, if you can keep it in mind that we all have bad days, and we all have endured them, that might allow you to be more understanding and empathetic…and also give you an appreciation for the good days you previously took for granted.
Why is it that we don’t appreciate good days that much, hm? Why don’t we say to ourselves, “I wrote two thousand words today,” and be as pleased about that as we are for someone else when he or she does it? Why is it we don’t say to ourselves, “Hey, you managed to walk a mile today when your back was out, and it actually made your back feel a little better even though it was exhausting,” when we’d gladly say that to anyone else we know?
In short, I think failure is meant to remind us of two things.
- We’re human.
- No one’s perfect all the time, no matter how hard we try.
So, just for today, be gentle to yourself — as gentle as you’d be with your best friend.
Maybe that way, you’ll be able to have a better day, and do more. (And even if you don’t have either one, it certainly can’t hurt.)
About my Husband Michael, the Writer…
Folks, this is the worst day on the calendar, for me. My husband Michael died on this day, twelve years ago.
Some days, it feels like yesterday. Some days, it feels like forever.
I’ve written a great deal about my husband, about why I feel the need to continue his work as well as my own, about why I feel the need to try to keep his memory alive…about why he still matters to me. And why he will always matter, to me.
Today, I want to talk more about my husband the writer. Because that matters, too.
I wish Michael had broken out, as an author, before he died. He’d have gotten such a kick out of that. We did sell one story — “Bright as Diamonds” in the BEDLAM’S EDGE anthology — before he died, and we told no one. We figured, let people find out when the book was available for pre-order…we even knew what we were going to say.
I remember when we wrote that story together. I can still remember him peering over my shoulder as I wrote the first draft. Then, he’d sit at the computer and work on it in the next draft…we’d converse for the third draft, and I’d write and fix. The fourth draft, he’d sit there, and read it aloud, and he’d write and fix.
In between all that, there were conversations with our editor, Rosemary Edghill, and we made changes accordingly.
I really wish Michael had lived longer, so we could’ve written more stories together.
“But Barb,” you protest. “There are half a dozen stories out there — or have been — with Michael’s name on them. Didn’t he write any of them before he died?”
Yes, and no. You’re right that there have been at least half a dozen stories with his name on them. But every single one of those sales except for the one in BEDLAM’S EDGE came posthumously.
Anyway, back to the subject — my husband, and his writing.
Michael, especially as a writer, was a subtle man. The stories that came out of him were mostly quiet ones, such as Joey Maverick’s adventures, or Columba’s wish to leave her own kingdom and venture out with Cat, also known as the Duc d’Sanchestre.
Michael believed in romance as an element of storytelling, and exercised that element with finesse and style.
Michael spent hours on setting up his story universes. He wanted to know everything about them, in order not to make a mistake.
Then again, if he did make a mistake, he’d say, “Oh, well,” and go back to the drawing board. He didn’t believe in beating himself up. His view was that you should save your energy, fix the problem, and go right on as you were. (More of us should be like this. Including me.)
Perhaps most importantly of all, Michael had a great sense of humor, and could laugh at nearly anything, given the chance. He used all sorts of devices, including puns, witty remarks, and situational humor to exercise his inborn literary gifts — though if I had put it this way when he was alive, he’d have told me I was putting him too high on a pedestal and to knock it off already.
Anyway, that was just a little bit about my husband the writer. I wish he were still here on this plane of existence, writing up a storm, telling me just how Joey Maverick and Belinda Simpson managed to get together, and what, exactly, was missing in “Columba and the Crossing” that I now have to figure out…but I’m glad I got the chance to be with him, and try to complete his work as well as I can.
Because Michael mattered. And his stories matter, too.
Barb Caffrey's Blog 