There was a review posted recently on Harry Thunder’s book, Characters. The review mentioned it was a great book – but the author seems to have an obsession with plumbing. It wasn’t until I read that it dawned on me about my own past, ideas that keep circulating in my head, and that end up on paper (or just on a screen).
Years ago, I had a job where we had to explore this tunnel. There were chemicals, it smelled terrible, and I had worries about medical side effects from the experience. Co-workers had nosebleeds, other health issues. My shoes melted. The glue simply wasn’t able to hold together after a few short weeks, the air was that toxic I was walking through. The piping was multicolored, bright primary blues, greens, and orange. Tagged with various markings, valves at the intersections, and who knows what compounds flowing through their system.
It was a fab, a place where high end computer components are made – I learned a little, and mostly am glad that the trauma I experienced is confined to sub-themes in my books. Well, our books really 😉
You’ve read some, so you know about pozole
Growing up in the country, a more rural area with lots of land, had it’s pros and cons like anything else. The air was clean. Plenty of space to run around, build a basketball court, and woods to tromp around in.
However, there’s a dark side to any situation. During middle school, I’ll never forget when I heard about the first time a classmate died by gunfire. I don’t think about the guy every day, but despite a year difference, in the small town, everybody knew everybody else, and he was kind of a friend, I think. He’s been gone for a long, long time. First time I expect leaves a mark, one that subsequent events only amplify. It’s just weird knowing people who were murdered. Also strange, one year, the county I grew up in led the country in murder rate per capita…crazy right?
I joke about cannibals because I knew one, or is that know one? Another guy I grew up with, we were in the same grade from kindergarten all the way through (anonymized) grade years later. Even played some sports together being on the same team. Again, small town 😉
I don’t believe most of us human beings do things like that – eat other people – but I knew a guy. It seems too bizarre, even now, to wrap my mind around. It’s supposed to be a *fictional* thing that happens; in reality, people aren’t eating other humans for a snack, or curious for long pig, I believe the term is…or the traditional method of preparing pozole.
While working on a new book, and with Savvy Sage Online 3 coming out in April, I’m pretty busy these days. Lots to do.
Years ago, I read “On Writing,” from Steven King, and found out the themes, motivations, and thoughts swirling around in his head were a product of some experiences he had, years before he started really pushing out books. Crafting stories.
Same here. A friend of mine has told me many times over the years I should make some of my own personal experiences into a book. Thing is, what I write is already inspired by real life, as anybody else who writes a story. In some ways, you really can’t split the work from the author. Phrasing, construction, themes, views…those will color a work, for good or ill.
So if you were wondering why, and saw some reviews, there’s a reason for the themes. The ideas. The stories. My goal here is to craft the kind of entertainment for others that I enjoy from my favorite writers.
Then, at some point, we want to turn these books into anime series, or live action series on Netflix, or Amazon Prime, or HBO, or Apple TV – I’m not particular over who buys the rights to the stories, but it’s not often the author of a book actually knew a cannibal.
At least, I hope it’s not often. It can’t be right?