Category: Writing

Rewrites and the Happy Writer

This is a merging of two posts I wrote for the Wyrdsmiths blog back in ’08.

Post the first: Justine Larbalestier is saying very smart things about rewriting at her blog. It’s an involved post and definitely worth reading. As usual I don’t agree with her about everything, but I’m a funny sort of monkey and much less prone to rounds of self-doubt and low self esteem than the average author.

Post the second (a response to that part of that otherwise wonderful post on rewriting that made me want to tear my hair out): Aspects of Justine’s enormously useful post on rewriting have inspired me to write a post I hadn’t planned.

It’s really all because of this paragraph: Reading through what you have written with all those contradictory and annoying comments scrawled in the margins will most likely fill you with despair. Don’t worry: Despair is an integral part of the rewriting process. Your despair will deepen. When you’ve been over a manuscript four or five or twenty or a hundred times you’ll know the true meaning of despair.

This idea drives me crazy. Yes, despair can be a part of the process, and for many writers it is. But “integral?” No, I don’t think so. I’ve certainly felt despair as a writer, but always over the business, never over the writing. I love writing. I love rewriting too. I even love finding those structural flaws Justine talks about. Do I like that they’re there? No. But I love the problem solving game involved in fixing them.

I actually find the idea that every writer must have moments of massive self-doubt and misery over their work to be deeply pernicious. It has the potential to cause happy writers to either devalue their own non-despair inducing process or to seek out misery in hopes that it will improve their work. And that’s just not right. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the whole thing.

If you do happen to feel despair as part of the process, that’s all right–there are 1,001 ways to write a novel, every one of them right. But if you don’t, don’t beat yourself up over it. Revel in not suffering for your art. For a longer take on that, go read Jane Yolen’s wonderful book on writing: Take Joy.

The process doesn’t have to hurt.

(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog as two posts on January 2 2008 and, January 3 2008. Original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)

 

Series Writing and Balance

Over the last few I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about how to balance all the things that a good series book needs to.

There’s the book’s individual arc, without which it’s not so much a story on it’s own as part of a multi-volume story. There are series arc considerations, and mini-arc considerations.

Also, how do you give new readers enough info to who is who and what their backstories look like without boring your long-time readers to tears.

For example there was a question from someone in my writers group last night about why a main character took a particular action. I was hard pressed to come with a good short answer on the spot and thinking about it later, the answer is ultimately: because the end of Book III., plus bits elsewhere in other books. The character, of course, knows what happened, as does everybody else in the room for this scene. It’s also not something that can easily be summed up because it’s a multi-chapter chunk of story and character that lays out across multiple books.

So, what of that do you put in? A big chunk will bring the current story to screaming halt. A small chunk would, in this case, probably make the decision seem even stranger. I think that sometimes you just have to leave bits out and hope the reader will trust you that it will all make sense in the end.

Another question has to do with what bits that don’t advance the book arc do you put in to serve the fans and the bigger arcs. There are a lot of character in these books and long time readers like to see the important ones from earlier stories. When is a cameo fan service and series maintenance, and when is it unnecessary diversion.

I really don’t have concrete answers to any of these questions, since it’s something you have to do in context and largely by feel, but this is what I’ve been thinking about, and I thought you might find it interesting.

The Problem of Rivendell–Or, Utopia isn’t Very Interesting…Except when it is

I’ve been thinking about utopia scenes in F&SF and thought I’d share the process here.

One of the legacies that the Lord of the Rings has left high fantasy is the trope of the sylvan utopia. Rivendell, Lothlorien, and to a lesser extent the Shire itself and the house of Bombadil are all manifestations of the beautiful rural/sylvan idyll.

As a reader and lover of the Lord of the Rings these places are dear to my heart. As a reader and writer of things not the Lord of the Rings, their legacy all too often causes me stress.

Even the most skilled of writers, a Tolkien say, has to handle moments of downtime like those in Lorien or Rivendell very carefully. This is as true of technological and other future utopias of science fiction as it is of the sylvan sort in fantasy.

One reason for this is that long descriptions of utopia have a tendency toward the boring. Another is that they all too often come at the expense of other things, like plot and character development. Finally, one person’s beautiful idyll is another’s trite fairy tale is a third’s description of techno-naptime.

This is especially true at the front end of a story when reader interest is at its weakest. Starting out with even five pages of utopian idyll instead of conflict is very likely to result in the reader putting down the book and never picking it up again.

Now, there can be very good reasons to start out slow, most often the desire to show the reader all that the lead character is about to lose when the raiders come and destroy everything important (Piper’s Space Viking), or when the protagonist shoulders a burden to protect that very idyll (Lord of the Rings), but it’s something to be approached with great caution, or so it would seem to me.

(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog December 18 2007, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)

Don’t let WRITING Get in the Way of Writing

That may sound counter-intuitive, but I don’t believe that it is. We all get in our own way sometimes. One form of this is unfinished project syndrome. You’ve got a book or story that’s almost complete, or that just needs one final polish before you send it off, and you are by damn going to finish it if it kills you. This can manifest as an explicit refusal to let yourself start another project till the last one is done. Or it could be less deliberate, something like, every time you try to work on something else you feel guilty about the unfinished project. In either case, the end result is not that the unfinished project gets done, it’s that nothing else does.

Don’t do this.

Yes, you have to finish what you start and send it out if you want to get anywhere in this business. But you don’t have to finish everything that you start. Everybody has unfinished projects. I personally have hundreds. Literally—I was just looking through my unfinished story files.

It is not important that you finish this project and send it out—. It is important that you write, and that as part of writing you finish some projects and submit them. Not all projects. Not this project. Some projects. Even, any projects. The only exception to this is contracted works. Those you do have to finish, ideally by deadline.

But for the rest? Don’t let the stuff you feel you have to do get in the way of writing other stuff. Write what makes you want to write. If that means picking up a new novel and running with it for a while. Do that. The unfinished project will still be there after you finish the next project, and your skills will be improved, making it that much easier to complete if that’s what you want to do.

Finishing things is important, but it’s not nearly as important as doing things that keep you writing. If you’re stuck, let your sense of wonder wander. It’ll drag you out of your funk, and getting to a place where you’re having fun writing is much more likely to result in you wanting to go and finish the unfinished project than forcing yourself to do it ever could.

If you need an outside authority to release you from the geas of the unfinished project, I volunteer:

You don’t have to finish it.

There. When your conscience needles you about it, tell it Kelly said it was okay.

(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog December 14 2007, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)

Other People Saying Smart Things

So, one of the advantages of going walkabout is that when I come back I get to discover a bunch of people saying smart things about writing.Nancy Pickard, showing it with pictures on the topic of first drafts.

Justine Larbelastier on the complete lack of symbolism in her draft process (I’m the same way).

Maureen Johnson has brain monkeys (snerched from Justine) and all I can say is: me too.

Scott Westerfeld on sometimes a zombie is just a zombie–written long ago, but still relevant (once again snerched from Justine, though I originally read this by following a link from Making Light)

Jeff Vandermeer on writing a novel in two months (via Jay Lake). This is faster than I currently write but not enormously so, and in the range I’m shooting for, i.e. three books a year with about four months of fallow time built in there in big blocks.

(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog January 16 2008, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)GhostFolk says smart things about honoring your process and learning the craft in comments on one of my posts here at Wyrdsmiths. If you missed it, it’s worth taking a look.

(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog January 16 2008, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)

Books I Have Written or Tried to Write

I got this meme from Naomi Kritzer who got it from jpsorrow.

01. 1990 Uriel

My first Urban Fantasy, a vampires and faeries book. From which I learned that: I can write a book. I can do it fast. I really like doing it. Rejection letters are not much fun, and this business is tougher than it looks. Oh, and that I am not Anne Rice, and that’s a good thing. Status: Trunked for now.

02. 1991 The Swine Prince

High Fantasy Farce. Wizards and princes and thieves and gnomes. From which I learned that: Uriel was not a fluke. I can write funny. I still don’t much like rejection. I am not Terry Pratchett, although I’m much closer to being Pratchett than I am to being Rice, and again, it’s a good thing. Status: mostly rewritten to current standard. Needs a new first 10,000 words.

03. 1992/1993 The Assassin Mage

High Fantasy. Book I of III, wizard assassins. From which I learned that: I really really like this writing stuff. Rejections suck. This business is tough, but I’m going to make it if it kills me. Status: Trunked with the intent to rewrite it as a YA.

04. 1994 (Partial) Uprising

High Fantasy. Elves and dead gods. Shiny. From which I learned that: I maybe need to figure out why I’m not selling stuff (I wander off to do short stories for three years). I also learn that I am not Mercedes Lackey and that this is an exceptionally good thing. Status: Trunked for now.

05 1997 (Partial) Family Planning

A scene is written in which a bunch of really cool characters have intense and interesting dialog that implies many dark and wonderful things. I fall in love. It goes nowhere. From which I learned that: Loving a story doesn’t mean knowing where it goes or how to write it. Status: This is one I will come back to.

06. 1998/1999 WebMage

What I sometimes call my senior project book. This is where I finished my writer’s equivalent of college. (My real college experience finished when I got a BA in Theater in 1991) Cyberfantasy that will sell in 2005. I sold the short story, my first sale, Woot! I’ve written another story in the same world. It occurs to me that there might be a novel here. In a fit of optimism I plot it out and begin. From which I learned that: Writing short stories has taught me an enormous amount about plot, story, and only putting in what should be there. Also, I learn how to write subplot that supports the main plot and how to write theme. This is the book that gets me an agent, and that keeps a second one when my first agent closes up shop and offers a bunch of us to a fellow agent. Status: In print.

07. 2001 Winter of Discontent

Contemporary fantasy. Shakespeare, Richard III, MacBeth, A touch of Coriolanus and The Tempest. From which I learned that: I am still deeply in love with Shakespeare, care deeply about theater, and am not so fond of theater people. That handling 8 viewpoint characters is a real challenge. That writing about things you love is pure joy. That I can write 60,000 words in 30 days without breaking a sweat. That I am very interested in the idea of belief and how it shapes the world we see (sub this, that being the child of a paranoid schizophrenic may have something to do with same). That my agent may not always love everything I write, but that he’ll support me wherever I go because he has faith in me and my work. I tend to think of this as my Master’s thesis in writing. I’m still very much learning and mastering my craft. Status: Under submission.

08. 2002 Numismancer

Contemporary fantasy. Coin magic. The EU and the Euro. More belief and reality. My dissertation book. From which I learned: An awful lot about directed research. How to successfully transfer dream cool to book cool. That thinly fictionalized incidents from my life will sometimes read as less believable than stuff I simply make up. Status: Under submission.

09. 2003 The Urbana

Contemporary fantasy. Assume that the fey really did die out. What evolves to use all that magical energy? That’s where this one started. From which I learned that: I can write a book that I’m not feeling one hundred percent enthused about because I know that a lot of my readers are likely to enjoy it. How to love what I’m writing on a day-to-day basis even when I’m not as enthused as I have been about other books. I’m really pleased with this book, and I think of it as my first truly professional novel. Status: On submission.

10. 2004 (Partial) Outside In

Contemporary dark fantasy, architecture magic. From which I learned that: I am much more interested in certain aspects of architecture and construction than my writers groups. That I need to rethink some of the structure of this book. That being depressed makes it much harder for me to sustain a book in the face of criticism. Status: Trunked for now.

11. 2004 (Partial) Ave Caesar

Mystery, cozy, theater. A departure for me, and one that I want to come back to. From which I learned that: If your early readers aren’t familiar with mystery as a genre, you may have a problem. Writers groups that specialize in one genre are probably more effective than groups with lots of folks doing different things. Status: Trunked for now, but I’ll come back to it.

12. 2005 Chalice book 1

Young adult contemporary fantasy–arts magic. From which I learned that: YA is a blast to write and that the shorter length is incredibly natural for me. Oh, and that I still feel deeply and deeply ambivalent about theater. Status: On submission as part of a tetrology.

13. 2006 Cybermancy

WebMage Book II. From which I learned that: I can write a second book in a series that wasn’t supposed to be a series, just a stand-alone. That Greek myth matters deeply to me. That being paid and having deadlines are both really great motivators for me. That I really really like turning books in early. Status: In print.

14. 2006 The Black School

Young adult, alternate history, WWII, fantasy. From which I learned that: Everything I liked about YA last time goes double for this book. That my YA is much darker than my adult fiction. That anger at contemporary politics is a great motivator for me to write. That my writers group likes my dark stuff more than my funny stuff, or at least that they like these books more than anything else I’ve ever done. Status: On submission as part of a trilogy.

15. 2007 Codespell

WebMage III. From which I learned that: I can write an ongoing series and enjoy it. That I’m happier writing under contract from proposal than writing spec books. That my own assessment of how smoothly I’m writing doesn’t necessarily agree with my readers–everybody else liked this book more than I did, and I could see why when I reread the copyedited manuscript. That I really like turning things in way early and that this makes my editor happy too. Status: In preprint, releases in June.

16. 2007 (currently unfinished) MythOS

WebMage IV. From which I learned that: I should feel free to make strong changes in an ongoing series as long as I talk to my editor and agent first (did that, they were quite happy with the proposal and hopefully they’ll like the result as well). That I really want to write at least one more WebMage book after this one. Status: Under contract, half-complete, due October ’08.

17. 2007 (currently unfinished) Duel of Mirrors

Contemporary fantasy with a humor edge. Hopefully this will be the logical successor to the WebMage books and will help build that thread of my writing brand. From which I learned that: It’s always a joy to fall in love with a new book. That travel juices the heck out of my creative mind. That I become very difficult to talk to when I’m in composing mode. Status: Begun, in plotting phase–aiming for three chapters and an outline for proposal.

18. 2000-2004 Chonicles of the Wandering Star

Hard SF, YA, illustrated short-story collection/serial novel for the teaching of physical science. This one is unusual which is why it’s down here out of order. It’s a work for hire project that I wrote as part of National Science Foundation funded full year physical science curriculum. I was hired to develop a science-ficitonal context for the curriculum and to write shorts as teaching tools. Fun project. From which I learned that: If the pay is high enough, work-for-hire is a great deal. That I can write YA. That I can write 1,000 word short in an hour if I have to. That I can write that short to teach a specific science concept, and that I can do it well enough to make a goodly percentage of the students who read it happy. That deadlines and getting paid are great motivators for me. Status: In print.

2013 Update: Yeah, I’ve written a bunch since the original post.

19. 2008 The Eye of Horus

Book II of The Black School. I love this book and it’s predecessor, but despite near universal agreement from those who’ve read them that they are some of my best writing I have not been able to sell them. See also: Argh!

20. 2008/2009 SpellCrash

The last WebMage book for some time to come. In some ways I think this is the best of the series. I learned so much about writing on the way to this one. I’m somewhat bummed that it is also the least read of the books. Status: in print.

22. 2009 Spirits of the Past

First book in a dark contemporary fantasy series centered around alcohol magic. This book exists only as three chapters and a series outline that now comprises six books. There is an excellent chance that this will be my next adult series once Fallen Blade is finished. I love the premise of these and still really want to write them.

23. 2010 Broken Blade

Fantasy noir with a badly broken hero. Status: in print, the first of six confirmed books in this series and now available both in German and as part of a Science Fiction book club omnibus edition of the first three Fallen Blade books. I think I’m finally getting the hang of this writing stuff.

24. 2011 Bared Blade

Fallen Blade II. Status: in print, in omnibus, and in German shortly.

25. 2011 Crossed Blades

Fallen Blade III. Status: in print, in omnibus, and in German shortly.

26. 2012 Blade Reforged

Fallen Blade IV. In print as of June. I’m loving this series more and more as I go along. It’s enormous fun to write something that’s simultaneously episodic in the detective novel mode and a multi-book epic fantasy storyline. Finding the balance between having each book complete in itself and building multi-book and series arcs challenges me every day.

27. 2013 School for Sidekicks: The Totally Secret Origin of Foxman Jr.

My first Middle Grade book. Silly superhero science fiction about a boy who sets out to become a hero and ends up at the School for Sidekicks. I had a ball writing this and learned a lot about writing something much closer to pure humor. I learned even more in the first round of revisions—there’s a huge difference in how books are written and marketed for younger readers. Current revision with my editor at Feiwel and Friends—crossing my fingers that she like the revised version which includes 25,000 words of material not in the first draft. Staus: under contract, handed in and through one round of revisions.

28. 2013 Drawn Blades

Writing this right now and about 25% of the way through it. Barring misfortune this will be my 20th completed novel. …how the hell did that happen? Again, barring misfortune it will be my 11th published. One thing I’m finding absolutely joyous about writing this book is that I’m getting to pull stuff from novel attempt number four up there in 1994—there’s stuff from the early years that I loved that I’m only now getting good enough to pull of. I’m working on an incredibly compressed deadline on this one due to me make a minor but self-compounding mistake in my workflow. Status: under contract, in process.

29. 2014 Darkened Blade.

Outlined, under contract, and due in June. I’ve reached a point now where managing my time and learning to say no to projects that I’d really like to do is becoming increasingly important. I feel that I mostly have the hang of the writing part writing books, though I continually strive to push the edge of what I can do, and still land on my nose with some regularity. The rest of being an author? There, I’m learning new things all the time.

(A bit over half of this was originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog November 26 2007, and original comments may be found there. Reposted, reedited, and updated as part of the reblogging project)

Real, Really Real, Realesque

Sometimes I think that we as writers get too hung up on making things real. By that, I mean really real, or in near perfect correspondence with the way a thing is in outside reality.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m a stickler for things like physicality and staying within the laws of physics (or at least having a good in-story explanation of why something behaves outside our reality). Anyone who’s ever been in a writers group with me will vouch for that.

The reason for that is that people have a really thorough grounding in our physical reality. A reader may not spend much time thinking about the way stuff falls, but they will sure as hell notice if things fall wrong, and this will distance the reader from the story.

However, I don’t believe that this grounding in physical reality always carries over to social, economic, or psychological realities. In fact, we often have impressions of these things that are distorted or simply wrong, due to any number of cultural or personal factors. This is so strong that sometimes, making something really real actually takes you away from the way that the reader understands things to such a degree that getting it right produces much the same distancing effect that getting a physical detail wrong will have.

This makes for a tricky balancing act between getting it right (making it really real) which most writers want to do most of the time and getting it to feel right (making it realesque, or story real).

If the really real thing is something that is central to the story or to the writer then, of course, it will often be necessary to make it so, and to give the reader the context they need to understand that this is the way it really and truly works. If however, the really real detail is peripheral, or too far from reader understanding of how it works, then it is often simpler and a stronger choice to go with realesque.

I come at this from the point of view of someone who started out by trying to put some really real stuff into stories about dealing with someone with a mental illness. I grew up in a house with a paranoid schizophrenic, and have spent 40+ years dealing with the really real of being forever tied to someone who is mentally ill. It’s a topic that is important to me.

It’s also one where I have found that really real doesn’t work nearly as well as realesque. I can’t tell you how many times I have had a reader simply flat out disbelieve something that actually happened could have happened that way. And, in response, I have had to go back and reshape the really real into a significantly fictionalized but much more reader-believable realesque. Importantly—very importantly—I think that I have given more people a better understanding of the actual situation that way than I would have if I’d stuck to my guns and insisted on going for the really real.

Because of this, I tend to pick up a grain or two of salt whenever I read someone–usually another writer, but occasionally a reader–obsessing about writers who don’t make the details of their pet obsession really real. In fiction at least, the really real is sometimes less true and less effective than the realesque.

(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog Dec 07 2007, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)

Don’t Be Afraid To Change Your Mind.

As anyone who reads my status updates or blog posts knows, I’m an outliner. I tend to know how the whole book is going to go by the time I start writing. I write an outline, fill in the details and then follow it.

Except…when I don’t.

Yesterday* I got almost nothing done because I didn’t like the way a scene I’d written the day before tasted. It felt like there was something structurally wrong. So, before going to sleep I spent some time mentally going over the scene and looking for different ways to deal with it.

I ended up completely removing a major character from the scene and that has a series of cascading ramifications for the next two chapters. The new version is better. So, I changed the outline for those chapters and everything else that hinges off them. Then I went in and reset the foreshadowing to give the new stuff a better lead in.

If something isn’t working, don’t be afraid to change your mind and do something else that does. An outline is just a tool. So is any method you might use to envision the story in advance. Don’t get too tied to your tools.

(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog Dec 05 2007, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)

______________________________________________

*Dec 4th 2008

 

Good Writing Trumps Everything

The purpose of the Wyrdsmiths blog is to share what we as writers have learned with those who are interested and might benefit. Since we’ve got a pretty good publishing record collectively it’s safe to assume that we’ve learned a bit that’s worth sharing.

This often takes the form of things that sound a lot like rules or commandments, and at some time I’m even going to write a Kelly’s rules of writing post. But an important note from that is that rule one is to do whatever it takes to get you writing. If that means violating every single bit of advice we give, do it, without hesitation or concern. The writing is what it’s all about, everything else is garnish.

This includes the things we have to say about what will and won’t sell. Collectively, we’ve learned quite a lot about the business of writing. The F&SF community is a small world and one where agents and editors mingle pretty freely with writers. The tropes and conventions of the genre are often discussed (go figure).

I can say with some authority that a present tense book is going to be a harder sell than a past tense book. That in-scene POV switches will be an issue. That 150,000 words is much harder to sell than 95,000. That a book with seven protagonists will be tougher sledding than one with a single protagonist. That its easier for someone with a big name to get away with any of the above. But none of that matters as much as A) getting words on paper, and B) the quality of those words.

If writing a 150,000 word, 7 protagonist, present tense, in-scene POV switching, time-travel, cyborg, political, Southern Gothic is what really gets you to put words on the page, then get out there and start writing it. Will it be hell to sell? Absolutely. Will it sell anyway if it’s good enough? Likewise, absolutely.

Good writing trumps every marketing rule. And it trumps every other writing rule but one: Write.

Write. Write well. The rest will follow.

(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog Dec 04 2007, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)

Notes for …And a Bottle of Rum (Aqua Vitae)

So, I thought it might be fun for my readers to get a view of the inside of my head. I’ve been working on and off on a project tentatively titled Aqua Vitae. It’s a contemporary fantasy series with six books loosely plotted out so far. I hope it will be my next group of books for adults following the Fallen Blade series which would would put it on shelves sometime around 2017. I just got back from Jamaica (setting for book six) and these are my raw notes for the book. Very little here in terms of story since that’s all established in the notes for the previous volumes. This is all about atmosphere.

Title: “…And a Bottle of Rum”

Notes on Jamaica for Aqua Vitae series

Pirates and rum runners and ganja, oh my.

August: ~90 Relentlessly hot out of the wind but not bad with sea breeze or on the beach where you can wander down and float for a bit to cool off. Bikinis everywhere. Tourists standing in the water drinking rum and pretending they’re not smoking weed. Roasted breadfruit, delicious and starchy like a natural pretzel, but pale and veined like a yellow sweet potato.

Gareth the bartender. Crystobel the desk clerk.

Old men with young girlfriends.

2010s portion of story. Ya Mon has a soft y emphasis on the A—yA Mon. Ask the bartender for whatever’s fun to make—neverending variety of different rum drinks. Hazey-dazey beach scene soaks up ambition. Hustling vendors march the beach—dressed laid back with a mellow attitude, but soaking in sweat and working their hustles hard:

“Ciiiiiigarettes—Ciiiiiigarettes—Ciiiiiigarettes!” Plastic bag of cigs

“Saahvoneers—Saahvoneers (souvenirs)” Big plastic tray—conchs

“Lobsters mon!” A couple of lobsters dipped in the ocean periodically

Quieter, friendly, “Hey Mon, need some ganja, I set you up.”

Bright colored little open boats with rods on the rails down at the edge of the resort where security can pretend to ignore them. “Fishing Mon?”

A man roars up to the edge of the sand: “Jet ski?”

Beach musicians, guitar and banjo, using an empty VHS rental container as a tip jar. Good voices, mostly old men with dreadlocks and smiles like the musicians in Mighty Quinn.

Tour guide, chatty see the real Jamaica, Appleton, Black River—certified by the tourist board. Got me a taxi with a cooler full of red stripe. Got me some skunk weed too if you want smoke. Not up for a tour? I can still get you the stink, Mon.

This gentle version is at the resort with guards and staff to police the beach. The sales are harder, pushier where there are no such watchers.

Sun so bright that you can burn in the shade just from bounce light. Hairy chest and legs SPF 10+. Sunscreen wears off and you cook, but not where the hair is, not in the shade at least. Lay on the beach, move with the shade, drink rum, wander down to waves when the shade get too hot.

All kinds of rum, sweet, spicy, sharp. White, brown, blended with coconut or banana. White rum, pineapple juice, splash of lime-deadly refreshing on a hot afternoon.

Steel drum band. Men and women. Three tops rigs with two drums each. One set of big complete oil drums (four). One regular old drum kit. Dancers doing headspins and all the stuff we eighties children think of as breakdancing, but a tropical beat.

Beach party, dancing to drums and electric guitar on the edge of the waves. Splash out to knee deep when the sweat runs too thick from dancing. Scottish step dancing surprisingly appropriate.

Walking along the interface between water and sand at sunset, waves less than ankle height, rum buzzing in your head.

The rains coming with thunder and lightning every day between 3-5 in the afternoon. Usually quick and cooling, then off, but every so often with the hint of monsoon. The boatmen stand under the tiny shelter of the the fish sanctuary sign, and bail when the rain has passed.

Feral cats live on the edge of resortland begging scraps from the tourists. The cautious hiding on the edges, the more successful, playing the loving house cat-hustling every bit as hard as the beach vendors. Compact cats—7lbs or so. Content to wait in the rain if it means they get some jerk chicken or grilled fish.

Smokers everywhere, and more black tourists than white. White folks often from Italy or Spain or points east. Lots of slavic accents. Only redhead on the beach is with me. Men with shaved heads and weightbench muscles abound. Tattoos are everywhere. The most obnoxious tourists are American, same as everywhere else.

Most tourists have a light buzz on, rum or ganja. Though some are gone by noon, really drunk drunks are rare. Maybe because the culture encourages the light buzz and demystifies alcohol and weed.

In resortland its rare to go half an hour without smelling someone light up. The weed smokers are neither furtive nor brazen, and the smell is what tells you they’re there more than behavior does.

The staff and the locals all laid back smiles. Some of that’s the job, some of it’s the culture. They work hard, but don’t rush. Handclasp or fist bump to say hello and goodbye. Everyone seems to have good teeth, often flashed in smile. When they speak amongst themselves it’s patois, fast and impossible for this outsider to parse. Braids and dyes are popular for the women—long hair mostly. Men mostly wear it short, in tiny dreads, high and tights, or low afros. Quite a few shaved heads though, and the longer dreads can be seen here and there, mostly on musicians.

Rehearsals for Jamaican dance show. Walkthrough to adjust the dance to the available space. Tights and legwarmers for heat even when its eighty out.

Sitting in the ocean during really heavy rain cold on shore, warm in the water. Rain so hard you can barely see, like spatters of sleet on my bald head. Marvelous as it was. Glorious in book form with a bottle of passed back and forth in the warm surf. Run ashore to fetch a bottle, feels like stepping into a hot bath when you splash back into the waves. Lightning overhead so loud and so close you can feel it vibrate your chest cavity like a skin and bone drum.

Tropical wedding. Groomsmen in whit linen shirts and sand pants. Groom in a sand suit. Bride in a white and sand silk mermaid that somehow works. Bridesmaids in teal, one, two, or no straps. Caribbean rock band with a teal guitar that matches the dresses. Loud obnoxious Americans who smoked and drank the week away, ruining other folks fancy dinners suddenly and briefly transformed into something  marvelous as they sway down the hall to steel drums on the way to a beautiful moment. After the recessional, once the wedding party has walked out of easy hearing, the band breaks into an instrumental Hotel California with the steel drums going sinister and eerie, and you suddenly wonder what fate awaits the wedding crowd once they revert to the “ugly American” stereotype. The story turns again, transformed into a prelude to horror…perhaps the dark sorcerer of Aqua Vitae did not like having his fancy dinner interrupted.

Speaking of which, the author would like to note that in combination with the water pouring out of the ceiling of the fancy Sir Andrew restaurant, the loud American crowd transformed a romance story first to disaster, and then to charming absurdist farce.