Chapter 37: Irish Fingerprints

I was sending off a copy of an encyclopedia entry I wrote about 19th century baseball manager Ned Hanlon and noticed something missing from among the other entries in this work. I've likely not seen the entire list of contents, but a work intended to make the Irish more accessible to Americans was missing one of the 20th century's most interesting Irish poets, Thomas Kinsella.

I chose "accessible" purposely, because Kinsella's work is considered to be complex and often dark, yet when I was one of his students back in 1989 in Dublin I thought he was remarkably accessible and even funny. I know that not all my fellow students agreed with me, but to me Kinsella was one of the most interesting writers I'd ever met -- and still is.

I recently re-read one of his most noteworthy books: The Tain Bo Cualigne (The Cattle Raid of Cooley). It is his translation of this epic Irish poem, part of the Ulster Cycle. I'd forgotten how graphic the book is, not only in its descriptions of the killings and beheadings of warriors but also the sex. The Irish of the pagan era were not prudes; there seems to be little worry about people sharing women -- and the women often took the initiative to join the beds of other warriors. If this story were put to film it would have to be rated at least NC-17.

For readers out there with interest in Irish history, strong stomachs, and good senses of humor, I suggest you pick up a copy of The Tain. For me, I'm going to go back to his poetry. The idea of picking it up again is daunting, as he's been writing for half a century and his oeuvre is vast. Yet, somehow I feel there's a reason I'm rediscovering him now.

Chapter 36.7: Holiday Weekend

I’ve always loved Memorial Day. When I was a kid, it meant an extra day of baseball games to play. As I got older, of course, it became the unofficial beginning of summer. Now that I’m an adult, it tends to be the time of year I take time off from work. This year I was able to swing a six-day weekend, mostly to finish implementing the edits of my book.

I’m looking at page 219 of my original document. I’ve already culled nearly 10 percent from the book, and I have more than 100 pages to go. What began as 390 pages is now no more than 358 and certain to be less. Two or three chapters have been deleted – one that hurt, as an argument could be made to keep it. The scenes reflected one of the book’s themes, but they were too much backstory, with the development of characters who went nowhere in the rest of the story. Bye bye.

Maureen’s been steeped in her new toy – a flatbed scanner to replace the one she exhausted over the past few years of running her own company. It did yeoman’s work and was worth every penny of the $100 or so I paid. This one, a similar price, but apparently better quality, has already captivated me. Perhaps there’ll be an image of my smiling mug on this blog soon. Or perhaps it’ll be the one of me hitting a softball during a July 4th game two years ago. I was allowed to play with the scanner, too.

Chapter 36.4: Readathon

The reading has begun!

Maureen, mechanical pencil in hand, has begun to read my first novel. While she was doing that, I continued with the edits and have now completed a third of the book, which has been trimmed by 5,000 words. I think I'm still on pace to cull 12,000 from the first draft, and I know Maureen has recommended cuts already. I believe that by Memorial Day I'll have her edit suggestions in hand, and perhaps I'll have the book re-written by the first weekend in June. Perhaps. My other initial readers will have copies long before the next major holiday weekend. I hope to have done my agent research by Labor Day if not sooner.

Chapter 36.3: Edit Progress

I believe I'm done writing for the day. After my morning doctor's appointment (I'm still alive) and brunch, I was able to get going around 1. More than six hours later, I've gotten through the first 57 pages of the original 390; it's now 50 pages of 381. I even caught Maureen peeking through some of the pages. Perhaps I'll print out these first 50 as long as I know I can keep pace with her reading.

But tonight we're going to celebrate. A steak dinner, a movie or two. A day of progress, both medical and emotional. The dismal rain dampened some of my outdoor distractions, but all for the best. Tomorrow will come in time.

BR2 on PSP

With the thousands of games on display at E3, I found one that isn't there for obvious reasons. Battle Raper 2 is the follow up to Illusion's controversial Japan-only PC fighting game and you can view this "action" packed movie specially formatted for play on your PSP. Just hit the 26MB link, extract the file and dump it on your PSP. The last bits of the movie are ABSOLUTELY NOT FOR CHILDREN. The amount of selectable and unlockable costumes is immense and they show real-time damage (meaning they tear off) during fights. Snazzy.

There's little chance I would ever play the game since it would not please my wife. Plus it costs something like $80-90 not including shipping, so the PSP movie will fill in just fine.

Killzone PlayStation 3

Regardless of whether the PlayStation 3 footage is pre-rendered CG or real time, the thing I really love about Killzone is the art direction. You can get an immediate feel for the world just by looking at the uniforms of your fellow soldiers and enemies, and what few vehicles we actually see. I felt the same way about the PlayStation 2 version although I have yet to finish it. I really hate to bring up another Halo vs. Killzone comparison, but this time it’s in the latter’s favor. As much as I love Halo, it’s really hard to get a feel for what it would be like to live in the era of Master Chief. It’s not because it’s sci-fi set waaaaaay into the future since plenty of other genre material have created perfectly believable worlds. There’s just some architecture and design consistency that’s missing from the Halo series that Killzone just nails.

Chapter 36.2: Vacating Myself

Ok, there's a weak play on words in the title of this entry: I'm talking about vacation, but I'm also talking about getting out of the self I've become recently. In addition to the previously mentioned increase in my blood pressure, I'm stressing out a lot. I need to calm myself down, and a couple days out of the office this week and a few more before the holiday weekend will help to that end.

It's not a lot of time - probably not enough to reduce my stress, anyway - and I have goals that might be unattainable for the time off and won't strike everyone else as vacation: getting my book back into shape now that I've proofed and edited things, writing freelance items with deadlines looming, and attending to household tasks like mowing the lawn and cleaning the gutters. Surprisingly, that stuff can relax me. (No, I'm not doing it for anybody else's house.)

I want to be able to read on the front porch with a can of beer beside me. I want to strum my guitar and perhaps start writing a few songs again. I want to jog with spring air in my lungs. I want to lie awake listening to my wife breath before the alarm sounds. I won't answer phones. No constant email updates for a few days. To hell with everyone else. Leave me a message, I'll get to it.

What's that old joke: How do you make God laugh? Tell him your plans for tomorrow.

Chapter 36: One-Year Anniversary

I didn't happen to notice it until this morning, but I just hit my one-year anniversary of having a blog. My best-laid plans of trying to have a beautiful blog with photos and links to great items haven't come to pass yet. But I've enjoyed having this little sliver of space to wax foolish and ignorant.

Anyway, I was wandering through some of my literary e-newsletters and came across this item, which I haven't completely read yet.

It seemed fitting, however, given a conversation I had last night with one of Maureen's professional colleagues. We were chatting about books, and I said that I believe books are more popular and prevalent than the media would have you believe. Look at the success of Amazon, for example, and the number of reading clubs that have been created in the past decade. Sure, the avalanche of reality shows undermines any belief I might have in an intelligent society, but there are pockets of people who aren't slaves to inane television.

It gives me hope that there will be an audience for my novels, that people like to read books that don't insult the reader's intelligence. And while lots of people love nonfiction, I still think that story matters more than whether it's "true" or not.

I finished my proofing of the novel, and over the next week I'll implement the edits and write those new scenes. Maureen will have a copy before Memorial Day.

Chapter 35.7: Nearly Done

Perhaps I'm being premature, but I think I'll finish the initial proofing/editing of the novel before the weekend is complete. At the moment, I'm in the last 40 pages. I've got a busy weekend ahead of me, however, so if I don't get it done I'm not going to bang myself over the head with anything dangerous.

I see this portion of the effort two-fold: first I have the proofing and my suggestions to myself, second is the implementation. I have several sections I know I want to rewrite partially. Plus, I have scenes to create. There's lots of areas in which I'm not pleased with my description or lack thereof. Long story short: I've still got a lot of work to do before I print it out again and let Maureen read it.

Hopefully, I'll be able to take some days off next week as I'm planning. If I have time to get on the computer, then I'll put the time in and finish it. But Maureen's first generation of her company's Web site is just days away from launching, so she has first dibs on the computer.

I think we both have long-awaited projects just itching to see the light of day.

Chapter 35.5: Getting Older

Apparently, I’m getting old. I’m in my mid-30s, so to some it shouldn’t be a surprise. I, however, find it a little difficult to accept. I’m not that old. No, I haven’t run the marathon I intend to complete yet; in fact my running has been sporadic at best this year. And no, I haven’t stopped drinking beer; perhaps I drink too much, but it’s a debatable point I can argue.

But people have noticed my face has been redder than usual. Suntan starting to develop, I say. I’ve torn the backside of an old pair of pants, but they were starting to look threadbare anyway. It was just a matter of time. My blood pressure has been a bit high lately. Stress, I suggest. It’ll go down again when things get better. But, perhaps it won’t. As an EMT, I should know better than to blow off the signs and symptoms of a changing physical condition. And stress isn’t healthy anyway, so it’s not helping me even if I can explain its root cause.

Maureen recommended I see our doctor. It’s been several years since I had a real physical, so she’s probably right. I might learn that my cholesterol is higher than I think it is. See ya later Saturday egg brunches, it was nice knowing you. I might be Lipitor-bound, a sure sign of increasing age among the chronically middle-aged man in denial. There probably are other beloved food items I’ll be told to eat in moderation.

I’ve cut out my afternoon cup of tea, but somehow I don’t think that’s going to be enough to stem the tide of creeping age. While I accept change, I don’t really want too much of it in my life. This sounds like the beginning of some significant changes. Damn. I was just starting to get used to being over 30, too.

Chapter 35.3: Another Season

Despite unseasonably chilly weather, I finally got to play in a softball game this season. Back in the modified league in Springfield, we won. I don't even know what the final score was; I was ready to play another few innings. The end came too quickly. I played right center, went 1-3 and scored a run. It felt good to run around, jog out to the outfield at each half inning, jog back in after our pitcher devoured the opposition. The one ball that came my way landed safely in my glove. One run, one hit, no errors.

I've had a sense lately that my days of playing are coming to an end. I'm physically able, and I still enjoy it. My competition level isn't where it used to be, but I think it's a deeper matter than that. I have other priorities. When I was 12 I never would have said something like that -- not when it came to baseball. I'm not 12 anymore. If I'd had the ability to play in the major leagues like I dreamed when I was young, I'd probably be starting to think about my career after playing. I'd be interested in managing a team; I was a catcher, it's what catchers do. I'd start in the minors, claw up the standings to win a championship, and prepare myself for the shot in the show.

Fantasies are fun, but my reality isn't baseball. My dreams now are focused on this novel of mine and the ones I have in my head waiting to be written. But for now, my reality includes a full-time job and playing softball when my schedule allows. I'll enjoy this while I can.