Monthly Archives: June 2008

Directing Frank Sinatra Jr. Narrating My Novel

Play

In 2007, I hired Frank Sinatra Jr. to do the narration of my novel McKnight’s Memory into audio-book form. It’s a full cast production with famous actors of the ’60s performing the characters. Mr. Sinatra came in last to do the narration. It was a dream working with him.

I had heard his audio commentary on two of his father’s movies on DVD, “Robin and the Seven Hoods” and “Oceans Eleven”. His voice, articulation, as well as his respect for character actors impressed me, so I asked him to narrate my audio-book.

Also since actor Henry Silva is in both his father’s movie “The Manchurian Candidate” as well as “McKnight’s Memory” it seemed to me to be “cinematically historic” for both Mr. Silva and Frank Sinatra Jr. To be in this audio production together.

Mr. Sinatra requested his recording be done at night, as that is when most singers feel their voice is the best. He gave a concentrated performance, often coming up with changes in the text that were superior to the original.

For example, there is a line that read, “The hit man was dead before his 200 pound body crashed to the floor.” Mr. Sinatra changed it to:”The hit man was dead before his 200 pounds crashed to the floor.”

I loved this subtle, but powerful change. Then Mr. Sinatra said, “Okay fellas, I’ll read it as written so that you’ll have a choice.” But I knew right then which reading I would use. This happened a few other times as well.

I was in awe of Mr. Sinatra’s enunciation and sometimes ending a paragraph in an upward tone, leaving it hanging, as if more will come. I don’t know what that’s called, but it great.

During our breaks, Mr. Sinatra talked about the sets that he visited of some of the now classic movies, such as “Journey to the Center of the Earth” and “Them”.

He also explained why the lounge acts disappeared from Las Vegas casinos. When headliners lost popularity and could no long fill the large show rooms, they were moved to the lounge to entertain gamblers and provide music to the whole casino. But when the entertainers insisted that their act be curtained off from the casino, the owners decided that if the gamblers could not see or hear the acts, then why should they pay to have them in the lounge? Thus the lounge acts disappeared.

The production’s cast includes Robert Culp, Nancy Kwan, David Hedison, Henry Silva, Don Stroud, Barbara Leigh, Alan Young, Edd “Kookie” Byrnes, Gary Lockwood, and others. The production has full sound effects and music, like an “audio-movie”.

The story is a mystery/thriller about a CIA deputy director that get’s amnesia and for some unknown reason is marked for death by both the Mafia and the CIA. The woman he lives with, but can’t remember, goes on the run with him. But can he trust her?

Writing about where you live

Free Writing,

One of the coolest things about living in Coastal North Carolina is all the neat towns. Many authors will suggest that you write about what you know. I, on the other hand, will tell you to write about what you have learned. It is easy to take for granted the places we live. There are so many local events that pass by unnoticed.

When I decided to take the docent training at The Beaufort Historic Association it was with a book in mind. I love Beaufort. It is close enough to where I live that I can travel there frequently, yet far enough to make me research. What I learned in the training was the backdrop of the town, its history and so many little details about the historic district that I wished I lived close enough to not only train as a docent, but also volunteer. I knew the moment I walked out the door the last day that this special site was indeed the place to set my series.

When choosing a local setting the reader may anticipate some fiction about the location but not a whole lot. If you decide to write a story that takes place in a real location and in the present, then you need to make sure that people who have been there can recognize it. Choose things that will not change, or things that are not likely to change for a very long time.

I have had several local readers tell me that they were picking apart my details and were very pleased. They could tell I put in the work to describe the location. This is important because if you write a book about a place where local people visit, live, and treasure, you better make sure to get the details right. They will either support your book or tear you to shreds and the latter is a very bad thing. Now if you change the name of a restaurant or store, that is one thing, but the core historical facts, those better be right.

The Art of Ethan is the first book in The Beaufort Series. It is published by Tease Publishing LLC and is part of a three book series. The story is meant to be read as if you are picking up the book and the action is happening today. It is about Grace, a school teacher who has not come to terms with her mother’s death. She is stuck in a rut but she can’t see it. Everyone around her does, and they are all worried. She loses her position as the cheerleading coach at the high school, she has a serious case of writers block, and her cousin Megan is getting married and wants her to be sewn into the dress! If that wasn’t enough, Megan decides to come to NC to visit with her fiancé and his brother Ethan.

Ethan is an artist who inherited his grandfather’s gallery in New York. He is a guest lecturer and one of NY’s hottest bachelors. There’s just one thing, he is fed up with lying, scheming, high maintenance diva’s, and has sworn off women. Then he meets Grace, and for the first time in a long time he actually has to work for a woman’s attention. The more she refuses him, the more he wants from her.

Add to the mix a stalker, an ex-boyfriend, an ex-girlfriend, and a fire, a wedding, and a couple pregnancy tests and you will see why Grace didn’t stand a chance.

Some of my favorite scenes in this book are the ones set in Beaufort. There is something magical about the house, the beach, and the town. Which is why the next two books in the series brings more people to live there!

Thank you for reading, and hopefully you will be inspired to check out your local historic association and re-discover some really great things about where you live!

The Snake by Milou

Free Writing, , ,

Podcast The Snake

Its scales reflect the evilness
Black, empty eyes do not confess
Its hiss is ironing my foot
I can’t move, I stuck, like a root
This snake that I’m describing now
Is slithering to me, and makes me frown
This time I know it, my death is near
And down my spine go goose bumps of fear
But when I look a bit closer at it
I note, it’s actually a snake of plastic

cobra-snake

The Warrior of Light and renunciation

Free Writing, , , , , , ,

“In any activity, we have to know what to expect, the means to reach our objective, and the capacity we possess for the proposed task.”

“The only one who can say that he has renounced the fruits is he who, being thus equipped, feels no desire for the results of the conquest, and remains absorbed in combat.”

“You can renounce the fruit, but this renunciation does not mean indifference towards the result.”

This strategy belongs to Mahatma Gandhi. The Warrior of Light listens with respect and does not allow himself to be confused by people who are incapable of reaching any result and always preach renunciation.

Renouncing vengeance

The Warrior of Light holds the sword in his hands. He is the one who decides what he is going to do, and what he will not do in any circumstances. There are moments when life leads him to a crisis: he is forced to divorce himself from things he has always loved.

Then the Warrior reflects. He assesses whether he is fulfilling God’s will or if he is acting through egoism. If separation is really the path he must follow, he accepts it without complaining.

However, if this separation is provoked by the perversity of others, then he implacable in his answer.

The Warrior possesses the art of the blow and the art of pardon. He knows how to use both with equal skill.

Renouncing provocation

The experienced fighter endures insults; he knows the strength of his fist and the efficacy of his blows. In front of the ill-prepared opponent, he merely contemplates and shows his strength through his look. He wins without needing to take the fight to the physical level.

As the Warrior of Light learns from his spiritual master, the light of faith also shines in his eyes and he does not need to prove anything to anyone. The aggressive arguments presented by the opponent – saying that God is superstition, that miracles are tricks, that believing in angels is fleeing from reality — are of no importance.

Like the fighter, the Warrior of Light is aware of his immense strength, and will never fight with anyone who does not deserve the honor of combat.

Renouncing time

The Warrior of Light listens to Lao Tzu when he says that we must detach ourselves from the idea of days and hours and pay more and more attention to the minutes.

Only in this way will he manage to resolve certain problems before they happen. By paying attention to the small things, he manages to protect himself from the great calamities.

But to think about the small things does not mean to think small. The Warrior knows that a great dream is made of many different things, just as the light of the sun is the sum of its millions of beams.

Renouncing comfort

The Warrior of Light contemplates the two columns beside the door he plans to open. One is called Fear, the other Desire.

The Warrior looks at the column of Fear, where he reads: “you are about to enter an unknown and dangerous world where all that you have learned up to now will be of no use whatsoever.”

The Warrior of Light looks at the column of Desire, where he reads: “you are about to leave a known world where all the things you always wanted and all that you have fought so hard for are kept.”

The Warrior smiles, because nothing can frighten him and nothing can hold him. With the confidence of those who know what they want, he opens the door.

http://paulocoelhoblog.com/warrioroflight

http://www.warriorofthelight.com/

Poets

Poetry

Blindly
Touching the
Naked thorns of
Enigma,
POETS
Can be more
Can see more
Can feel more
Without deepening
The colors of the
Blossom;

Sipping the wines and vinegars
Of the least excruciated life – poets
Breathe newness while shedding
The pall of past pretensions;

And with reverence –
Touching souls with delicate
Acumen – poets sense inspiration
As an Eagle with out-stretched
Wings comprehends the
Heavens and moon;

Becoming one note,
Inapposite, swirling and twirling
To establish a home on the stave
Of a more exalted symphony

Richard Lloyd Cederberg

Ollie Ollie Home Free

Poetry

Second childhood? First ’round
here some’ere! Stay IN, I say.
Wait ’til I signal things are cool.
What does she do? She goes and runs,
leaving me with this stick-in-the-mud
grown-up who is forever checking
the world’s most beat-up watch
or bending to a rule she needs
to break. Miss you, you rat. Feel
like a copy got stuck in a printer.
Tore in two when someone tugged.
Drum and cartridge too old for me
to be sharp. Barely read myself.
Good that scary parts smeared, but still.
Miss you!! Long to play Pretend
with you. To be wind, to be close-to-
matching doves high on robin’s egg blue
sky. To be egging each other on. To
paddle in puddles after a long summer
rain. Go in toe-to-head mud and waste
bubble bath. Laugh ourselves silly.
L-o-o-o-o-ve silly. Love even more
to believe. In angels. In genies. In
once-upon-a-time. In happily ever
after. Frogs.turning to princes, stars
winking back, mothers and fathers. . .
never mind. Such a trip to believe
Dubble Bubble glued our stomachs
to our belly buttons. All that’s wanted
is to say the secret word that unsticks.
Same trick fixes other stuff. People!
Turns us all into pop-up dolls
in a book like Aesop’s, only we
move and talk and touch. Are really,
really strong, and have been whisked
to this humongous dream house ‘neath
trees go up and up. Just enough sun
and rain to make sure flowers bloom
in every color in the box, and more.
Let’s be sure to color that adorable mouse
and pup, ‘kay? Cat got itself tangled
in yarn. No worries, spider won’t hurt
a fly. No one will. Book may close,
but not this minute.
.
Going back and forth gobbles memory.
Maybe if I stop going on, I’ll remember
where you hid last time. Come on!
Tell me I am warm . .

(c) Phyllis Jean Gteen, 2008

Butterfly

Poetry

Butterfly (for Lisa)

When you crawl into your hole
It’s not to hide
But a necessary part
Of your becoming.
Not every transformation
Takes place
In the pitiless glare
Of others’  expectations.
Rest and contemplation
May also feed
That creative spirit
To force the radiant colours
Out of that caterpillar’s
Cocoon.