Writing

I passed the forty mark on my query send-outs for HARDCASE, my first person POV thriller. Years back when I was reading Ms. Snark’s agent blog while trying to get a clue as to what would interest an agent, it seemed an impossible and humorous task as I read all the stuff authors should never do. There seemed to be an insurmountable number of items that doomed new authors in general to forever be submerged within the horrible agent ‘Slush Pile’. I read the words ‘craft’, ‘cliché’, and ‘concise’ so many times they began to trigger my barf reflex.

A little time passed and other agents began sharing their likes and dislikes with us, including POV, adverbs, dialogue tags, begin in the middle and end in beginning (or something like that), no this… no that… no… well, you get the drift. These revelations amused, confused, and defused a multitude of writer wannabes like me, I’m sure. I couldn’t have been the only one reading new releases breaking each and every ‘No-No’ and yet getting into print just the same - and selling.

A little more time passed and I noticed writers I myself had followed for many years making public statements not only about politics, but about other writers. The most mystifying was Stephen King deciding to grade the writing ability of Stephenie Meyer. He claimed to understand the attraction to the stories but he claimed - ‘Meyer can’t write worth a darn. She’s not very good.’ To a rube like me if an author manages somehow to climb the literary Mt. Everest of not only getting their material published, but also selling millions of copies along with generating a string of Hollywood movies, that author’s writing might not be pleasing to King or one of the other Gods of the written word, but so what? There are many writers out there who write ‘series’ type books I enjoyed immensely, but when they’ve forayed away from the series I disliked their efforts. It didn’t mean they couldn’t ‘write worth a darn’. It meant only that I didn’t care for the story. I’ve read all the Stephanie Plum series by Janet Evanovitch, but her efforts outside the series have put me off from reading anything else but the series. It had nothing to do with her writing and everything to do with the story. Anyway, we had entered a new era of celebrity critique.

A little more time passes, and here we are in the middle of publishing Armageddon with Amazon creating a self-publishing tidal wave. Agents, writers, publishing houses, and book stores (however many there are left) feel the heat building up to an inferno. It is possible this may mean a brave new world for storytellers. It more than likely will mean a lot less money for a whole lot of people. It may also mean a closer look at submissions with storyline higher up on an agent’s agenda. With my new handy-dandy Kindle I’ve been trying out a lot of free samples from many well known authors. I admit to being confused as to what the agent saw other than name recognition, and I was very happy I hadn’t plunked down cash for it. It wasn’t that the well known writers had forgotten how to write. I just didn’t like the story. In conclusion to this blog thesis, writing form is all well and good, but in this day and age of large free samplings an author better have a story. :)

Wet Morning

Well, last night, or I should say very early this morning St. Joyce and I were awakened by a clatter at about 2:45 AM and it wasn’t Santa Claus. I thought she had gotten up and tripped while she imagined it was me. Then I heard the whooshing noise and knew something happened with the water pipe. Taking a peek out the window I saw water shooting up onto our house wall right where our main valve is, along with the attached sprinkler apparatus. Out I go quickly with Mag-lite, waterproof boots, and parka to find out what could be the matter. What to my wondering eyes did appear but a broken plastic fitting flush with our water pipe. I turned off the main valve. This stops the water of course… and our water flow inside the house. St Joyce meets me as I trudge back to the entryway with a towel.

“It’s busted where the sprinkler system pipe attaches to our mainline,” I inform her as I wipe off the excess water. By this time, the stray tomcat we call Big Boy sidles up to me and then trots in the house because he thinks it’s early breakfast time. Yes, we feed stray cats and get them fixed when we can catch them. Big Boy’s not bashful. He usually rams his head into our screen door until we allow him to come in.

“I hope Big Boy didn’t get wet,” St. Joyce says, watching him disappear into our kitchen.

Oh yeah, water’s drizzling off my parka but just so the Big Boy didn’t get wet, everything’s okay.

I go inside, plop down a food dish for the Big Boy and then go out to the garage. I need two things: an expander pliers to clamp the inside of the busted pipe inside our water line which I don’t have, and a pipe plug for if I figure out some way to get the busted piece out which I don’t have. I’m staring at what I do have when St. Joyce tells me in that exasperated tone that I need to just come back to bed and work on it in the morning. Oh yeah, I can go back to bed and just drift off into sleep with a day of appointments starting in a few hours and no water here at the house.

“You do realize I had to shut off the main water valve. That means there’re no baths, no showers, no tea, no coffee, and no toilet.”

“In that case, you better get to work, Dark Lord. Sleep is overrated.”

Yep, St. Joyce is on board for the long haul now. I stare for a few minutes while I root around in my plumbing parts and pet the Big Boy. I find a threaded stubby pipe I can use with a cap as a plug. I spot my handy dandy hacksaw. It occurs to me the main line is metal while the broken insert is plastic. Yes! I quickly disengage my hacksaw blade while Big Boy looks at me, wondering if I’ll put a few more morsels in his food dish. I do. With the blade, glove for holding it, small bladed chisel, and a hammer, out into the dark wet forest of foliage I go. I make three cuts in the plastic nub until I hit metal inside the main line, carefully tap the broken pieces free with the small chisel, and I’m ready for my plug. It turns out my plastic cap has a hole in the end so I McGyver the round bottom off another flexible plastic plug and seal it in the bottom of my cap with pipe dope. After fastening the cap on tight I went out and screwed my plug in and turned on the water. Oh happy day, because by then, it’s four in the morning. Big Boy passes me on the way in the house.

St. Joyce is sitting up in bed doing Sudoku while petting our eighteen year old cat Taco Bell. “I couldn’t sleep with you banging around out there.”

“Oh waaaahhhhh,” I sympathize with passion.

St Joyce chuckles and turns over to shut her light off with Taco Bell in hand. “Don’t wake me, Dark Lord. I’m thinking of taking the day off. I’ll see how I feel.”

“By your command, Master.” The Dark Lord knows who the next link in the chain of command is in this house.

At a quarter after five I’m back up, putting away the junk I left out in the garage. At seven, St. Joyce gets up. “I’m going to take a bath and soak.”

“It’s a good thing that troll we have repairing stuff got the water back on,” I reply, finishing the last shaving strokes while she draws her bath.

She brings the phone in with her. Before I leave for work, St. Joyce waves at me from the bathtub. She’s been consulting with her co-worker girlfriends. “The girls say they have it covered today and that I should take a personal day after the rough morning.”

“When the Dark Lord wakes you tomorrow, it will be the stuff of legend,” I promise on the way out.

“Take that back, Dark Lord!” St. Joyce cries out after me.

Heh, heh, heh… I don’t think so.   :)

ARCHANGEL Reviews

I have garnered a couple of reviews for my 99 cent Kindle book ARCHANGEL I’d like to share. One is from my blogging buddy, author Charles Gramlich. He liked the humor and action in the book which were definitely the elements I wanted to convey.

This review is from: ARCHANGEL (Kindle Edition)  By Charles

"Well, you will never look at Archangels, Lucifer, and nuns the same way again. The story concerns two Archangels, Raphael and Abaddon, the Archangel of the Abyss, in an alliance with two Catholic nuns to destroy demons that are possessing important human figures on earth and reeking havoc with human lives and world affairs. There's a lot of action and a whole lot of humor. A fun book."

The second reviewer noted the obvious political slant I wrote the book from, and although not in agreement with it, objectively critiqued ARCHANGEL’s content. I couldn't ask for more.

This review is from: ARCHANGEL (Kindle Edition)  By TWM

"I found it an interesting exercise to read of three of the world’s most liberal leaders being possessed for longer than the time they held political power. If nothing else the author certainly made his own personal political views known, extreme ultra conservative. Now even though I personally am a progressive who wants something more than a paycheck for them in political power for the taxes I pay I can put the political statements made throughout the book aside and be objective about Mr. De Leo and his craft.

I found the writing to be tight, the narrative to be done well enough to actually hold my attention in a genre I am not a typical reader of. Growing up and going to a Catholic school for 12 years I will say that even if he was doing it as a jest he actually made the two nuns who are central to the story more human than I have ever looked at nuns. They walk, they talk and they drink and even don't mind a romp, all the while proving they too know how to use language one would never think coming out of a nuns mouth. Mr. De Leo's narration makes it believable.

To some I can see where it would take a great suspension of belief to be able to read ARCHANGEL, but to me to be honest I took the story as a story done by an author who knows his craft and is able to move the tale along. He is especially adept at communicating images of heaven and hell and the final place of the eternal demons, which I found to be believable imagery. Even though just as all mortals none have seen them in any other way than the way we bless or inflict them on ourselves and each other."

A writer can’t buy a review that has the ring of truth, especially when politics and religion both get showcased in the way I presented them in ARCHANGEL. I am blessed that I can write in any way I wish without worrying about whether my viewpoint will alienate readers thanks to already having a profession that puts food on the table. I appreciated very much reading reviews from people who don’t share my political proclivity but could still find my writing entertaining enough to enjoy. It’s all you can ask for as a writer. It has been worth practically giving ARCHANGEL and MONSTER away, just to get the feedback. Writing without readers is a lot like the old cliché of the tree falling in the forest. Is there really any sound?  :)

New Government Robbery Plan

More good news from the ‘Tax and Spenders’ Bandits. Up in Oregon, they’re working on a pay per mile tax on vehicles since with the new systems they’ll be able to calculate the theft with very little difficulty. They aren’t the only ones. Other states have this blatant robbery in mind too. Of course they’ll tie it into climate, foreign oil, blah, blah… blah. What it really means is the government dictated better fuel mileage, cleaner cars, and a host of gadgets – all of which add thousands to the cost of our vehicles all for our own good. When they get what they want, they notice the already exorbitant gas tax pot is leaking due to the improvements. Rather than cutting spending, government gnomes have to manufacture new ways to steal what they do not earn. This pay per mile theft will not only bump up the individual driver’s direct rate, it will raise every single cost to us of goods and services – food, durable goods, and delivery fees which all get passed on legitimately to the consumer. It makes me wonder how far they can go before people say no way, no how, quit spending! The addiction to entitlement programs and politicians using them to buy votes with our sweat and blood is at critical mass.

Funny First Underwater Video Clip Trip

Because of many weekends since spring taken up with family and even writing research, my scuba diving season got off to a really late start. Yesterday was the day I would get to try out my underwater video casing. It’s a cheap, slick casing for a lot of different regular cameras such as my old Nikon L18. Anyway, I packed up my dive equipment, and off I went with St. Joyce to Pacific Grove for a video dive off Otter’s Point. Some of you might remember Otter’s Point was the favorite spot for my assassin, Nick, in my still in final edits at Wild Child Publishing – COLD BLOODED. There, I got the promo in one more time. Of course I’ll have passed on by the time it gets a publishing date but you can’t have everything.

So, we drive down through beautiful overcast weather with very little traffic, had breakfast at a neat little café in Pacific Grove, and then headed to Otter’s Point. The water was a bit choppy, but this is only a trial run for my underwater video excursion, so I’m pumped anyway, even if the visibility might not be good. I begin unloading my equipment when it suddenly becomes apparent I left home without my regulator (the breathing apparatus). St. Joyce asks me what’s wrong because my rapid equipment setup has ground to a halt with me staring out at the ocean.

“I forgot my regulator.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep. I know exactly where it is – our garage.”

St. Joyce chuckles. “What’re you going to do?”

“Hold my breath until I run out of video.”

St. Joyce laughs. “How about we just go up to the Bamboo Reef on Lighthouse Avenue and you can rent one.”

Excellent idea. The Bamboo Reef Dive Shop is the best for tank fills, or any replacement equipment, or for idiots who go on diving trips without regulators. I repack the GMC and up to Lighthouse Avenue we go. I run inside and find a familiar face – an older gentleman I recognize from many times refilling my tanks at his shop over the decades. I’m just another diver to him, but he recognizes me in the way I recognize some customers at my auto shop even after years in between meetings. In my case it’s only been since last fall since he’s seen me.

“Do you have a regulator left for rent?” I ask hopefully, because whole dive school classes come down here to the ‘Reef’ and rent out stuff on weekends.

“Sure do.” He smiles and plunks down the clipboard with the info form to fill out. “Forgot the regulator, did we?” It’s not his first rodeo with regulator-less weekend divers.

“I sure did.” I stare down at the sheet realizing I’d run in without my wallet and dive license. It’s against the law to rent any equipment to uncertified divers.

The gentleman is psychic too. “Forgot the wallet, did we?”

Damn, he’s good. “I’ll be right back.” Out to the GMC I run to give St. Joyce another chuckle on how well I’m doing with my Alzheimer’s. Back inside, I begin filling out the sheet while my host checks my credit card, driver’s license, and dive card. He’s getting the giggles looking at my dive card. It’s an ancient plastic NASDS (National Association of Scuba Diving Schools) scuba license marked 9 – 78. His underlings have been the ones to handle my card in the recent past so this is his first personal look over in a while.

“Sorry,” I say. I’m thinking he’s finding it humorous I don’t have a picture ID dive card like everyone does now. “They didn’t put our picture on them back then.”

“You know this organization doesn’t exist anymore and I think Roger Johnson’s dead.”

Roger Johnson is the name of my dive instructor back in 78. His name’s on the card too. I wonder for a moment if Roger did pass on but the ‘Reef’ owner starts laughing so I join in on the merriment. “It’s disrespectful to talk like that about an antique dive card. I’ve been thinking about taking it with me to the next ‘Antique’s Road Show’ for evaluation.”

He gets a laugh out of that one, fills in a couple things, and takes my money after I check out the regulator personally. It’s his insistence so he can make sure I actually do know how to hook it up to a tank and then remove it. Off to Otter’s point once more, and the murky, wildly blurry video down below. The water had gotten a bit more choppy, especially under the surface, but it was fun doing it. I actually turned it on my face for a wave. Afterwards, we sat on St. Joyce’s beach for a while and had dinner at Crabby Joe’s in Fisherman’s Wharf before heading home. I will do better next time with the video.

King Rat Revisited

If you were as overjoyed at Seal Team Six's execution of King Rat as I was, this article is a must read King Rat Details. The details of the raid that killed Osama Bin Laden are all here, including the planning stages and mission problems. It is incredibly well done and engrossing. It also mentions some of the other high value targets taken out by the 'Men in Black' and thousands of these types of missions carried out instead of a handful. These guys are the best there is at what they do, and oh baby, if they have your name on their list you better start making peace with whatever you think of as the hereafter, because you'll be on your way there shortly.   :)