We were never meant to be

I never meant to write my novel in first person but when it happened, I told myself it was nothing more than a passing phase. Even now, in this exact moment, I’m pretty sure I believe that.

But no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, I’m drawn to the damn thing. 

 

I trip a lot

I think a lot of it has to do with the clumsy narrator. I’m kind of a clumsy guy myself. My narration in everyday life never lives up to par and I’m probably the last person you’d want to give directions to.

Adding another layer to this, I’m also the one that is famous for saying the most inappropriate thing in a crowded room.

Maybe it all comes down to me writing a novel where I am the star. Good God, I’m an egomaniac. This is scarier than I thought.

 

Life imitates art

When I wrote Dempsey’s Grill I had a clear understanding why it had to be first person. The narrator and I had a lot in common. At one time or another we were broke, dumped by a girl and could never shake that constant fear of turning thirty. 

On the bright side I was never shot at, unlike the narrator.

 

I was supposed to dump you

When book two came around it was third person all the way. I would cover the landscape full of thrills and joy rides and all things luxurious. Snakes included.

But I could feel the pull. At first it was nothing more than a tug, maybe a little push, but at the end it became a full blown yank.

Hello first person.

 

Goodbye old friend

I have now decided this will be my last first person novel. Never, ever again I say. All the greats do third person. That’s where the action is. This first person stuff is just practice, right? Right?

So here I go. Onward to book two, first person. He too is a clumsy sort of guy but at least he’s his own person. 

I can hear the calling of third person. Now all I need to do is to figure out how to answer it. 

 

Fozzie braved the cold and rain in order to sit on his favorite rock. Don’t ask me why it had to be this particular rock. I’m not even sure Fozzie has an answer to that one.

Rock or not, Fozzie is hoping you have a rockin’ week. Yes, horrible writing. My apologies. If you’re experiencing the fall weather stay warm but if you’re my weird Australian friends enjoy your summer. I’ll never get use to that.  🙂

Four years ago I was vacationing in San Diego. One night while enjoying a warm evening an idea came to mind. I remember taking notes, jotting down clues and enjoying the moment that something good was in the works.

I came home and wrote the first draft. It didn’t feel right but all was forgiven. Only the rare ones get it right the first time around. The rest of us are left to suffer the first draft woes.

So I went on to draft two but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was off. Something was missing. A key ingredient if you may. But no matter how hard I tried my taste buds remained dull.

 

Stepping Away

I decided to take a step back and try a different angle. I tried casting a different light and rewrote the protagonist. 

I was positive things would work out. They always do, or at least I thought. Eventually the wrinkles disappear, the story opens up and in no time at all I’m Dorothy opening the black and white door to the colorful world of Oz.

Nothing happened.

The black and white door remained locked. I felt like I missed it by inches. At times I swore I touched it. My fingertips brushing the ends.

 

A difficult decision

So I put the story away, positive I’d see it again. Time does have a way of revealing things, doesn’t it?

There are moments when I can see the characters. A little redheaded girl with blue eyes and a toothless grin. I can see her mom and her grandpa but the moment they stand clear I feel them fading away.

After three failed attempts I decided to put them away. I had to be realistic. I couldn’t wing it. The story had to be told right or not at all. 

 

I will figure you out

I am positive that one day I will see it. I keep listening for the little girl to talk to me. I have a feeling she’s the one that has something to say. 

I’ve never had a story do this to me. All of my stories are chatterboxes. Sure, some are hesitant at first but in time they break out of their shell.

But not this one.

Someday it will come to me. The dull taste will be replaced with amazing spices. But most of all the little redheaded girl will hand me the key to her colorful adventure.  

Fozzie had a bright idea to climb a tree today. Unfortunately he forgot how to climb down. 

While he’s figuring this out he asked me to wish all of you a fantastic week.

Bundle up if you’re cold, jump in the pool if your hot but most of all, please wish him well as he tries his best to climb down. 

Good luck, Fozzie!!!! 

When I wrote Dempsey’s Grill I was surprised with the emotional rollercoaster I experienced. I never thought I would actually feel what the characters felt. 

I just thought I’d write the thing and move on.

 

I probably need help

Whenever I wrote a happy chapter I was happy all day. The same goes for a sad or nervous one. Let’s give a moment of thanks that I didn’t write about a trigger happy assassin.

Yes, to much. 

The biggest challenge I had was keeping my emotions in check. For example: If I spent the day writing an angry scene I had to remind myself not to snap at the kids the moment they walked through the door. 

 

Anger is a good thing

For the longest time I had to convince myself this wasn’t normal. How could something I created affect my emotions so much? There’s probably a word for it. Whatever it is it’s probably not a good one.

No matter how hard I fought, the emotions continued. Finally I realized, and accepted that it was all part of what I do.

Looking back I realize now it was a good thing. It meant I was doing something right. There was a connection and connections are a good thing if we’re trying to entertain.

 

Here I go again

So now I’m back at it again and to no surprise the emotional rollercoaster is all fired up and ready to go. Some days I’m bummed out while other days I’m on top of the world.

Is it exhausting? You be it is, but if my goal is to entertain someone then I have to see this as a good sign. 

Most of all it is the only way I know how.

So here I go. Ready to tackle another chapter. If I appear a little grumpy to those of you I contact, please forgive me and be patient. A happy Bryan is sure to be found in a coming chapter.  

 

 

 

It’s that time of year in Western Oregon where the trees take their winter nap. As you can see, Fozzie loves the leaves. 

Have yourself a great week. For those experiencing cooler nights be sure to bundle up. 

A long time ago when I was young

I am a carb guy.

There was a time where I was convinced if you tapped into the center of the universe you’d find yourself surrounded by a heapful of yummy carbs.

Yes, I was a little different.

Forget the fruits and veggies, I’d shout – Loading up on a bowl full of carb-anything is the only way to live.

But something happened as I traveled along the lonely trail of carb-anything. I got a little older, the mid section a little wider and the blood pressure a little higher.

One day I decided to try something new. I had fruit for breakfast. As my writing took off and the fruit consumption increased the words flew out of my head.

Sure, an orange will never be as tasty as a plate full of hashbrowns but my work excelled. No longer did I feel like taking a nap two hours after I got up.

 

A little older and just maybe a little wiser

Now things are different. Sure, I still find time to reward myself. On Saturdays I’ll reunite with a bowl of my favorite cereal and on Sundays the kid and I travel across town to our favorite restaurant.  

But when it comes to the writing week that’s when things take a serious turn.

I opened my day with two oranges and end the morning with one banana. Sure, I toss down a pot of coffee but no longer do I toss down the carbs. I am surprised how clear my head is. Maybe a writer is kind of like an athlete. 

A mental athlete, that is. 

Looking at it now, I’ve slowly created a habit of healthy eating. So if this writing gig never pays off at least the healthy gig did.

No bad if I say so myself. 

A side note: Yes, that’s saran wrap covering the oranges. Damn fruit flies!!!!