Or more measures from the accelerating writer’s life waltz! One day of paid work at the office yesterday, but two weeks left to myself on such projects as a couple of reviews, and a couple of books to read for upcoming reviews…. And a CD that I simply must listen to and come up with some cogent observations, even though I have never heard of any of the artists. Even Blondie hasn’t heard of most of them; it’s a soundtrack CD for the TV show Kyle XY. So far the only ready observation that has come to my mind is “gosh, where does the poor lad put the salt when he eats celery in bed?” which will only amuse people about a third of a century older than the main demographic for the music.

I’m here all week… try the veal, and don’t forget to tip your waitress

I am galloping away on the Civil War segment of the current epic, having completed the first six chapters, slowly building up to the tragedy which drives the rest of the book (and the subsequent volume) , the murder of a fairly major character by a vigilante gang. And no, I would not be talked into a reprieve; I had always planned this, since I began jotting down notes on various striking incidents and people, and working out how to weave characters and a plot around those particular points. The death of this character sends everyone around – friends, family, and distant connections off on various abrupt tangents… and that accounts for about 75% of the rest of the plot. I have more than just the bare-bones idea on conversations, subsequent incidents and scene descriptions, so I expect the rest of the first draft will move along pretty briskly. This is the Civil War… when the story starts to drag, I can always arrange to have someone in a battle. Or to sneak around on a dangerous mission, or something… the possibilities are nearly endless. I suspect that if I hadn’t broken it out into three parts “Barsetshire with Cypress Trees and Lots of Side-Arms” would be about the thickness of a concrete block when finished. The Fat Guy, who has read some bits of it insists that it would sell in Texas like $3 a pound chicken-fried steaks, and asks what are they thinking of that I don’t have any more nibbles from publishers than I do?

I ran across another writers’ webside, who does historical fiction also (different period) and was amused to note that she also sets out a humongous chart, tracing incidents and accidents, and character’s development, and when children are born (or conceived!)… when you are dealing in a story that spans several decades, and pivots around historical events, keeping track of it all is absolutely key! I have a chart that contains about six different historical time-lines, from national down to local, maps out three different families, four romantic pairings, two towns, one feud… and the rise of the Texas cattle industry. At the very least this means that when two characters meet in an Austin saloon in March of 1847, I know what their small talk would have been about!

But as soon as I finish the draft, then I will need to sit down and read… a lot. If the chart and my chapter outline are rather like the bones, and the first draft is the inner organs and muscles and skin and all… then the final draft is getting it into shape, doing a bit of nip and tuck, and applying the couturier outfit, manicure makeup and hairstyling. All these details that show, and I like to get them right; as a matter of pride and of not wanting to be nibbled to death by those ducks who are mad for that particular event or period. I can’t imagine anything more embarrassing than having an expert enthusiast look at a particular episode and say, “No, it didn’t happen that way, it’s quite impossible,” and then refer me to about a dozen authoritative tomes that would have set me right to begin with. And this applies to smaller stuff, as well: what was the name of the fanciest retail store in Austin, on the eve of the Civil War? Who did daguerreotypes, and where was that studio, or was there more than one? When did the various militia troops recruited by the Committee for Public Safety begin to wear gray uniforms, and who supplied them? Where was the stage stop in various towns, and how often did the stages run… and what was the average travel time? What were people talking about, after church on a Sunday, or in a tavern, or on a long scout into the Llano? All this and a thousand more questions potentially come out of just about every paragraph, when you are trying to write it looking through the lens of a different century than the one you know first and best.

All this is part of making a convincing venture into the past, and showing it to the present, making it real and breathing, dust-covered and glorious… which is a way of saying that I need some books now, either that the library doesn’t have, or that I will need for months longer than they will check them out to me… should any of our readers want to help me make it a little farther down this trail. I posted a list here, and will add to it as the need occurs, or subtract as I am able to buy them myself. More happy blogging this weekend. I promise.