Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Conspiracy, Schmeeracy

Although I write about underground government conspiracies, I’m not really a conspiracy theorist. Dangerous conspiracies can provide a solid anchor for a science fiction plot and a meat-and-potatoes storyline but fiction is not proof. If you want proof of anything, read the newspapers or crack the spine on a non-fiction book.

To quote myself, Fiction is real life without its mask. That means that only fiction can uncover the real underlying truth. But it's a truth that can never be proven, only suggested, merely hinted at, an idea thrown into the ring. Fiction is the little birdie that whispered in your ear. Fiction is the one clear thought on an otherwise cloudy day. Besides, I think all genuine conspiracies are predisposed for self-exposure and are, therefore, doomed from the very beginning. Why fight to bring them down when they'll eventually oblige us and do that themselves? You've heard the old saying, "Give a fool enough rope and he'll hang himself." The same applies to those who embrace evil for power over others. Give them enough time and the power they misused will be their own lethal dose of poison.

Despots come in all sizes, shapes and colors and their inevitable downfall invariably follows their suppression of voices that speak truth in one way or another. For example, the New York publishing “community”, like Hollywood and the American television industry, has a history of thwarting new voices that threaten to dispel the clouds of mystery, ignorance and false beliefs that have kept mankind in the dark for millennia.

Hollywood and the television industry, America’s biggest purveyors of untruth and complacency through conspicuous consumerism, nearly lost their control when they opened their doors to Ray Bradbury and then Gene Roddenberry. But, alas, that bold human spirit which seeks out the unknown seems to have died along with them.

When readers began forsaking the likes of Arthur C. Clarke and Kurt Vonnegut for industry-selected authors who promised unflagging sensationalism and an endless supply of cookie-cutter characters, the New York publishing “community” was granted a similar reprieve.

It could be said that such business practices — the deliberate cloaking of the truth with the trappings of the material world — have all the earmarks of a true multi-media conspiracy. But, then, I’ve never been much of a conspiracy buff.

Friday, July 1, 2005

Tools of The Trade

I still write all my novels on a Canon StarWriter JET 4000 word-processor. A word-processor is something that no one sells today because everyone wants to write on a computer.

I really admire Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. who did all his writing on a typewriter. Hemingway wrote in notebooks with a pencil. But, of course, they had editors and agents.

The picture below shows my writing room, a small upstairs bedroom in Snow Shoe, PA. The room has a nifty dormer with a southern exposure where I, unfortunately, had to put my computer and not the word-processor. I have to write with my nose to the wall and a cup of coffee on my left or I wouldn't get anything done.

I scribble notes throughout the day on pieces of paper and stick them on the wall in front of me with poster putty. When they have been incorporated into a novel they are moved to the wall on my right. Then they are boxed up with the original manuscript and floppy disks when I start the next novel.

When I write I like it quiet but when I do file maintenance I like to listen to NPR and especially to Garrison Keillor's A Prairie Home Companion and also to classic jazz music. This photo was taken when I was writing The Dreamer Never Sleeps.

I love to write and I don't mind rewriting but I despise marketing. Selling oneself is making the hardest sales pitch of all.



Author's Note: This photo is a scanned image of a Polaroid snapshot, taken long before I ever had a digital camera. That's why it looks blurry and faded.