Alexander Solzhenitsyn on Evil

I was going to give you another first sentence. This one from Johnny Glynn, The Seven Days of Peter Crumb (New York, Harper, 2007). This is an evil, disturbing, violent, psychotic novel. But a really good one.

Flipping through to page 1, I ran into this epigraph from Alexander Solzhenitsyn's The Gulag Archipeligo. I think I'll share it with you because it says to us--Don't pass off easily as not you what you're about to read.

If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of humanity and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart.

This is not a joyful book to read, and I don't recommend it for everyone. But if you like good novels and have a strong stomach, this one is excellent. If you don't have a strong stomach, you'll never make it through.

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Writing is for me an entrepreneurial activity. For my ideas on entrepreneurship, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com and for entrepreneurial real estate go to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog and for my ideas on writing and publishing, go to www.kearneymusicschoolmurders.blogspot.com.

First Sentences: Richard Russo's Bridge of Sighs

Here's Richard Russo's first sentence from Bridge of Sighs (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2007): "First, the facts."

Not much, is it. It tells you only that there's more to come, which you can tell by the bulk of the book's 527 thick hard-backed pages. Also, I'm not sure that in beginning a novel you should start with facts without first establishing character. It goes against everything I have been taught and believe.

But, I'm a big fan of Richard Russo which I can never understand about myself because his writing violates everything I believe about good writing. Still, I can't help myself.

I think it's because I first saw the film version of his novel Nobody's Fool, and got interested in his characters. Then I read the book and found them somewhat different, but I loved the book. Then I went back and read his other stuff, which I liked to varying degrees, from a lot to a whole lot.

I grew up in upstate New York, Schenectady in fact, and his books just drip upstate New York. He grew up in Gloversville, which went south after women stopped wearing gloves in the 1960s and has never ever quite recovered. Schenectady has gone south since GE pulled most everybody out of there and is, I understand, in a bad way. I haven't been back in a while.

So, when I picked up this book, I didn't care what the first sentence was. I just wanted to get into another of his worlds.

Which tells you that once you establish an audience, you can get away with just about anything. But, for us who haven't gotten to that yet, we have to do things differently.

What do you think? Tell me. Post a comment. I'd like to know. And follow me on Twitter.com

Writing is for me an entrepreneurial activity. For my ideas on entrepreneurship, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com and for entrepreneurial real estate go to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog and for my ideas on writing and publishing, go to www.kearneymusicschoolmurders.blogspot.com.

First Sentence: Possley and Kogan, Everybody Pays

In any genre, the writer needs a good first sentence. If you're going to dive into the swimming pool, you need to get off the platform or board cleanly.

Maurice Possley and Rick Kogan, in Everybody Pays, Two Men, One Murder, and the Price of Truth, (New York: GP Putnam and Sons, 2001, p. 1, start their true crime story this way: "When you are going out to murder a man, it;s always a good idea to know where he is."

Reading this sentence, how can you not read on, at least a little way. The authors' almost comical sentence and use of 2nd person establishes a really interesting relationship with the reader, and activates the reader's inner cynic. By now there are so many stupid criminal stories out there, we're familiar with how most of those who commit crimes are not really the sharpest tools in the shed.

I recommend this book if you like stories about crimes. I do. I avidly watch Forensic Files, Cold Case Files, The First 48, and so on. They are very interesting stories. I don't like their "dramatic" counterparts so much anymore, those like Law and Order, Cold Case, the CSIs, and so on. The others have the ring of truth.

What do you think? Tell me. Post a comment. I'd like to know. And follow me on Twitter.com

Writing is for me an entrepreneurial activity. For my ideas on entrepreneurship, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com and for entrepreneurial real estate go to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog and for my ideas on writing and publishing, go to www.kearneymusicschoolmurders.blogspot.com.

First Sentence: W. Somerset Maugham

W. Somerset Maugham, starts out The Moon and Sixpence , New York: Random House, Modern Library Edition, originally published in 1919, p. 1.

He says:

I confess that when first I made acquaintance with Charles Strickland I never for a moment discerned that there was in him anything out of the ordinary.

This is a very innocent sentence, maybe I would have deleted the "that there was" to make the sentence a little tighter, but in 1919 that was the style. People had more leisure time.

Here point of view is established right off the bat. It's clear you're going to see Charles Strickland the artist filtered through the experience of the narrator. You detect a little unreliability about the narrator and wonder what that's about. And the exaggeration in "never for a moment" establishes an attitude. And here again, it's retrospective, so the time of the action in the novel is in the past, but the narrator is telling you this in the present.

And he says, "I confess." Why does he feel the need of confessing.

This is an absolutely wonderful book. Read it and keep it on your bookshelf. Then read it again a year later.

What do you think? Tell me. Post a comment. I'd like to know. And follow me on Twitter.com

Writing is for me an entrepreneurial activity. For my ideas on entrepreneurship, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com and for entrepreneurial real estate go to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog and for my ideas on writing and publishing, go to www.kearneymusicschoolmurders.blogspot.com.

First Sentences: John Le Carre Again

I can't keep away from this guy. Here's how he starts off A Small Town In Germany [New York: Dell, 1968], p. 1:

Ten minutes to midnight: a pious Friday evening in May and fine river mist lying in the market square.

When I read this, I had to read the rest.

Think about it: "Ten minutes to midnight"--time running out on something. "A pious Friday evening"-- Why pious? We don't know but the word raises questions in us that must be settled. "A fine river mist"--when I read this the Main River jumped into my vision. A mist obfuscates things.

And the next sentence draws us inexorably on, gleaming just as brightly as the first sentence: "Bonn was a Balkan city, stained and secret, drawn over with tramwire." I could go on and on, but I won't. Get the book and read it.

What do you think? Tell me. Post a comment. I'd like to know.

Writing is for me an entrepreneurial activity. For my ideas on entrepreneurship, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com and for entrepreneurial real estate go to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog and for my ideas on writing and publishing, go to www.kearneymusicschoolmurders.blogspot.com.

First Sentence: Elmore Leonard's Swag

Let's look at another of my favorite authors: Elmore Leonard. His novel, Swag [New York: Avon Books, 1987] p. 1, starts like this:

Frank Sinatra, Jr., was saying, 'I don't have to take this,' getting up out of the guest chair, walking out. Howard Hart was grinning at him with his capped teeth.

This activates what I call the "huh?" factor. First time I read this, hell, the sentence not even making sense. I went "Huh? What is this I'm reading?"

But it kept me reading, and not very much afterward found it was a television show the characters were watching. But, I'm a big fan of his books, so I was semi-hooked before I even opened the front cover. A lot of other people are hooked on him too. He gets some kind of flow going, you turn page after page without even knowing you're doing it. Talk about narrative drive!!

It's an unusual way to open a book, but in an odd way, this sentence works. I think it's the "I don't have to take this" statement. Don't we all feel that way about something>

What do you think? Tell me. Post a comment. I'd like to know.

Writing is for me an entrepreneurial activity. For my ideas on entrepreneurship, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com and for entrepreneurial real estate go to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog and for my ideas on writing and publishing, go to www.kearneymusicschoolmurders.blogspot.com.

Fear of what's inside

I read a review of Charlotte Roche's new book Wetlands in Sunday's New York Times book review section. The book's been called disgusting and taboo-busting.

Well, the discussion of the book suggests that it's disgusting, how the girl narrator explores her own private parts and internal fluids. Too much information, way too much. And thank you, I'd rather not experience such things in my reading. I think fiction about what we have inside us and how we deal with the hidden parts of us can be fascinating, but I don't need to be revolted by a book, so I'm not encouraged to read it. Going into the swamp is interesting, Wetlands doesn't sound so.

What do you think? Tell me. Post a comment. I'd like to know.

Writing is for me an entrepreneurial activity. For my ideas on entrepreneurship, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com and for entrepreneurial real estate go to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog and for my ideas on writing and publishing, go to www.kearneymusicschoolmurders.blogspot.com.

First Sentence: Alexs D. Pate

Alexs D. Pate [Yes that's how his first name is spelled.] begins his wonderful novel, West of Rehoboth (New York: William Morrow, 2001] "The soft summer held them all." Just six little words encapsulates the entire novel. It does what all sentences are supposed to do: Lead you to the next one.

But what is "them?" Dreams? People? Cups of coffee? We are intrigued. At least I was when I read it. You should read it too.

Are you intrigued? Tell me. Post a comment. I'd like to know.

Writing is for me an entrepreneurial activity. For my ideas on entrepreneurship, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com and for entrepreneurial real estate go to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog and for my ideas on writing and publishing, go to www.kearneymusicschoolmurders.blogspot.com.

First Sentences: John Le Carre

While I'm on the subject of first sentences, I started John Le Carre's latest effort, A Most Wanted Man (London: Scribner, 2008), p. 1:

A Turkish heavyweight boxing champion sauntering down a Hamburg street can scarcely be blamed for failing to notice that he is being shadowed by a skinny boy in a black coat.

This is a pretty good one. The thing about the Turkish boxing champion is unusual and gets our attention. And why is he sauntering with his mother? Sauntering? The impression of leisure and that they are walking along because they enjoy each other. That could stimulate sympathy or curiosity. And the word "scarcely," attempts to exhonerate the referrent at the same time as it atributes a small degree of blame to him. But why? And what business does this skinny boy have with the champ. And what's the significance of the black coat?

The first sentence is important. It hooks the reader (or not). It's like a little flag out there saying, "Read me. I'm interesting."

What do you think about this? Can we talk about writing here? Post a comment.

Writing is, to me, an entrepreneurial activity. Entrepreneurial ideas are the life's blood of my writing. For my entrepreneurial course, Entrepreneurship on Line, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com. For entrepreneurial real estate to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog

The Enemy Within, Upstairs

Sometimes going to deep places within yourself means going up. On p. 52, Henry takes Will up to the studio now being used by another faculty. "I taught in this sudio for more years than I care to remember," Henry says. Is this just a phrase of convenience, or is it some key to his inner soul. He says nothing to allow us in. But then, Henry doesn't let a lot of people in.

I wish I'd explored this a little bit.

What do you think about this? Can we talk about writing here? Post a comment.

Writing is, to me, an entrepreneurial activity. Entrepreneurial ideas are the life's blood of my writing. For my entrepreneurial course, Entrepreneurship on Line, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com. For entrepreneurial real estate to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog

Alfred Hitchcock and The Enemy Within

Related to fear of the underground is fear of the enemy within. Alfred Hitchcock was a master at exploiting this fear the enemy within as a way of manipulating us into his films. I remember an episode of his TV series set in an old house out by the sea during a thunderstorm. With the power out. Right, sounds hokey right?

Well the resident was an invalid being tended around the clock by two nurses, a frail, beautiful, vulnerable-looking one, played by Dana Wynter, and a large, masculine one played by someone whose name I don't remember. Dana Wynter was in a lot of stuff back then. She was very beautiful, but very petite and vulnerable-looking.

The plot thickened as it's learned that there is a psychopath on the loose killing nurses. Here we go, right, so here's these two nurses in an isolated location with the power out, so they don't know there's danger out there. You think, okay, the killer's going after these two next, I'm ready for this, and old A.H. is not going to terrorize me.

Wrong.

Well, you see Dana Wynter and hear a man's voice off camera. You think, Oh, my God, he's in the house. You want to yell at the screen, "Dana, get out of there. He's in the house."

It turns out the killer is the other nurse. You realize the big nurse is a man only when Dana rips off his wig while he's strangling her.

Scared spitless.

Hitchcock is saying what's inside us (the nurse in disguise in the house) can come and kill us. And when we least expect it.

What do you think about this? Can we talk about writing here? Post a comment.

Writing is, to me, an entrepreneurial activity. Entrepreneurial ideas are the life's blood of my writing. For my entrepreneurial course, Entrepreneurship on Line, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com. For entrepreneurial real estate to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog

Kafka, The Metamorphosis

And while we're talking about Kafka, which we were until yesterday, how could I ignore his masterpiece, The Metamorphosis (Galtzer, ed., Franz Kafka; the Complete Stories. New York: Schocken Books, 1971, pp. 89-144).

It starts out: "As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a giant insect." [p. 89] Again, the master of the first sentence. But what comes after is truly magical. After inspecting what he can see of himself and wonders what has happened to himself, our hero sees hanging on the wall,

a picture which he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and put into a pretty gilt frame. It showed a lady, with a fur cap on and a fur stole, sitting upright and holding out the spectator a large fur muff into which the whole of her forearm had vanished.

Here we have it, the metaphor for what has happened to our hero: he's vanished into himself.

Then he tries to get away from himself. He can't. He wants to forget "all this nonsense," roll over on his right side, and go back to sleep. But he can't. He keeps rolling back.

Many of Kafka's characters share an overwhelming and ultimately self-destructive desire to deny the seriousness of what is happening to them. And it's a keen perception of human nature. We see it in ourselves. It's as if by putting down on paper Kafka's showing us a side of ourself we'd like to deny we already know. It's one reason we identify so strongly with them.

Anyway, what fate could be more horrible than actually to become that which one fears the most.

What do you think about this? Can we talk about writing here? Post a comment.

Writing is, to me, an entrepreneurial activity. Entrepreneurial ideas are the life's blood of my writing. For my entrepreneurial course, Entrepreneurship on Line, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com. For entrepreneurial real estate to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog

Repressed Memory and Ian's Filing Cabinet Exploding

On p. 50 Henry's talking Jung. I love it when people talk Jung. I think I'll always be Jung at heart.

Anyway, Will says, he's heard about that, when Ian's filing cabinet exploded on him. Henry was surprised Will knew about it but it makes sense when Will tells him he'd learned about it from Julie.

Now, here we go: the filing cabinet exploding--Ian's underground coming up to bite him?

What do you think about this? Can we talk about writing here? Post a comment.

Writing is, to me, an entrepreneurial activity. Entrepreneurial ideas are the life's blood of my writing. For my entrepreneurial course, Entrepreneurship on Line, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com. For entrepreneurial real estate to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog

The Trial: The Opening

While we're on the subject of Kafka, always one of my favorite subjects, what happens when your fear of the underground, or what's inside you, comes up and bites you when you're not expecting it? This is, of course, what happens in his novel, The Trial.

Someone must have been telling lies about Joseph K., for without having done anything wrong he was arrested one fine morning.(Franz Kafka, The Trial. New York: Schocken Books, 1992, p. 1.)

In an absolutely brilliant opening sentence Kafka establishes a 3rd person limited point of view, creates intrigue ("someone must have been telling lies...").

And then he's arrested. By whom? On what authority? We want to find out so we read on.

And why? Did he do something wrong? Were they telling lies? The narrator said "must have."

It also exploits our indignation at being manipulated by authority figures and helps us feel sympathy with Joseph K. K. is us and we are him. He has been abused by these so far unknown individuals who have broken into his private living space to arrest him. And for what? What could be so important it couldn't wait at least until he got up.

A whole world in one sentence. Will he be convicted or will it go away? We don't know. A tremendous sense of anticipation generated by this one sentence.

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Writing is, to me, an entrepreneurial activity. Entrepreneurial ideas are the life's blood of my writing. For my entrepreneurial course, Entrepreneurship on Line, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com. For entrepreneurial real estate to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog

Kafka's Burrow.

Jennifer Toth in Mole People; Life in the Tunnels Beneath New York City Chicago Review Press, 1993, reminds us of Franz Kafka's short story, The Burrow . See Nahum N. Glatzner ed., Franz Kafka, the Complete Stories (New York: Schocken Books, 1971), pp. 325-359.

Kafka's burrowing entity, we don't know whether it's a person, some super-conscious rodent, or Dostoevsky's voice from Notes from the Underground, goes on and on about the burrow he, she, or it has built.

The narrator says on p. 318,

My constant preoccupation with defensive measures involves a frequent alteration or modification, though within narrow limites, of my views on how the building can best be organized for that end.

Go on and read the whole short story. Each sentence contains a whole world.

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Writing is, to me, an entrepreneurial activity. Entrepreneurial ideas are the life's blood of my writing. For my entrepreneurial course, Entrepreneurship on Line, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com. For entrepreneurial real estate to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog

Fear of the Underground

Jennifer Toth in Mole People; Life in the Tunnels Beneath New York City Chicago Review Press, 1993, p. 170, goes on to talk about our fear of the underground.

I think we all feel it. I know I do when I think about taking the subway up to north Philadelphia at night. It's not a place we're used to. Everyone is a transient. We feel alienated there. Cell phones don't work down there. It's dirty, often smelly if people have urinated there. We don't want to live down there and wonder about the people who do. It's dark, hard to see. There aren't very many crowds at night. People seem stiff and uncomfortable. There is limited access, and where there's limited access, there's limited egress. There may be a person taking money, but he or she's separated from the crowd by a glass window.

It wasn't always so, she says, on p. 170. Drawing from the work of Rosalind Williams, Notes on the Underground; An Essay on Technology, Society, and the Imagination (Cambridge, Massachusetts: the MIT Press, 1984), she writes,

Historian Rosalind Williams explains that subterranean iconography is based on historical and literary interpretations of underworlds as technological environments. Fear of the underground emerged historically, at the same time as fear of technological progress.

I'm not familiar with this work. I think I'm going to search for it.

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Writing is, to me, an entrepreneurial activity. Entrepreneurial ideas are the life's blood of my writing. For my entrepreneurial course, Entrepreneurship on Line, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com. For entrepreneurial real estate to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog

Mole People Revisited

I'm reminded in all of this of Jennifer Toth's book, Mole People; Life in the Tunnels Beneath New York City Chicago Review Press, 1993.

She writes, on pp. ix-x,

The people of New York City who live underground are most commonly known as mole people. And it is no accident that the term conjures freakish images. I hope this book will revere the horrible and striking image of 'mole people' simply by showing what I saw and found. I hope the stories from the tunnels will bring a better understanding of the underground people. By writing their stories, I hope to dismiss the myth of animal-like underground dwellers, so that you, the reader, can come to know that mole people don't exist between the surface of New York City, but people do.

She's saying that what you find when you go within yourself or probe below the surface, is just humanity lurking there. By seeing it, we realize it's not so bad after all.

But maybe it's something not everyone wants to see.

What do you think about this? Can we talk about writing here? Post a comment.

Writing is, to me, an entrepreneurial activity. Entrepreneurial ideas are the life's blood of my writing. For my entrepreneurial course, Entrepreneurship on Line, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com. For entrepreneurial real estate to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog

Invisible Frontier

Going into yourself, into the mud below the crust you enter an invisible world. At least invisible before you entered it. Barbara Hurd entered this world when she went into her caves, and again in Stirring the Mud

L. B. Deyo and David Leibowitz, in Invisible Frontier: Exploring the Tunnels, Ruins, and Rooftops of Hidden New York (New York: Random House, 2003) talk about this in different terms.

In a sort of modern version of the merry pranksters, they embarked on, visiting a forbidden location. Here's what they say about going into an aqueduct, from p. 3:

In the shadows of the city waits an invisible frontier--a wilderness, thriving in the deep places, woven through dead storm drains and live subway tunnels, coursing over third rails. This frontier waits in the walls of abandoned tenements, it hides on the rooftops, and it infiltrates the bridges' steel. It's a no-man's land, fenced off with razor wire, marked by warning signs, persisting in shadow, hidden everywhere as a parallel dimension. Crowds hurry through the bright street,s insulated by the pavement, never reflecting that beneath their feet lurks a universe.

Digging down into the mud and exploring deep dark places isn't much different than going inside yourself to understand why a set of footsteps heard coming toward you was such a red barn.

What do you think of this? What are your ideas? I'd like to know. Post a comment.

Writing is, to me, an entrepreneurial activity. Entrepreneurial ideas are the life's blood of my writing and real estate practice. For entrepreneurial ideas go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com and for entrepreneurial real estate go to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog

On Memory Slips and Stirring Mud

Linda Katherine Cutting's memory slip was brought on by hearing the sound of footsteps which, like the red barn for Jung's patient, cued memories long since gone from recent memories.

For me, this hooked into something I just read in Barbara Hurd's Stirring the Mud; on Swamps, Bogs, and Human Imagination (Boston, MA: Beacon Press, 2001). If you remember, she wrote Entering the Stone; on Caves and Entering the Dark (New York: Houghton Mifflin, 2003).

What Hurd says about the mud is:

"to drop to our knees in algae, push hands into the fringed and seepy edges into which pieces of our lives have sunk, places where year after year the crust grows thin, too thin, finally to mask the sense the underneath the unkempt border something else is breathing: the origins of our worlds, wiser afterthoughts, the whispered asides of the spirit." [p. 3]

Notice the words: "seepy", "algae", "edges", "unkempt", "underneath", "border". They support the narrative text tremendous subtext.

When Linda Cutting stopped performing and entered therapy, she was doing exactly what Hurd describes, dropping to her knees, searching beneath the crust.

What do you think of this? What are your ideas? I'd like to know. Post a comment.

Writing is, to me, an entrepreneurial activity. Entrepreneurial ideas are the life's blood of my writing and real estate practice. For entrepreneurial ideas go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com and for entrepreneurial real estate go to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog

Memory Slips

Linda Katherine Cutting, in Memory Slips: a Memoir of Music and Healing (New York: Harper Collins, 1998, pp.6-7) writes, "In July 1989, on stage, six and a half bars into the opening of the Beethoven, [Sonata in E, Op. 109] I heard footsteps. Suddenly I was in the wrong key. The footsteps came nearer to the piano. Start again, I told myself. I couldn't. Keep your hands on the keys. Impossible. I had to make sure it wasn't him. I stopped, put my hands in my lap, and looked out into the audience. It was only a latecomer taking his seat. I started again..."

This is the fear of every performer, that they will forget their music. In this case, though, sound of the latecomer walking served as a reminder of past abuse. It produced a red barn effect on her.

The rest of the book chronicles her withdrawal from performing and entrance into therapy, and return to the stage. It's a compelling story, I recommend it to you.

What do you think of this? What are your ideas? I'd like to know. Post a comment.

Writing is, to me, an entrepreneurial activity. Entrepreneurial ideas are the life's blood of my writing and real estate practice. For entrepreneurial ideas go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com and for entrepreneurial real estate go to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog

Jung and the Red Barn

Jung comes in to the book on p. 50. I got interested in his work sometime early on in this project. I don't know where I read it. I liked his ideas about archetypes and symbols, where things can cue other things. A thing isn't just what it is, it is what it is and a whole bunch of things.

There's a story I remember about how Jung was walking across a field with another man. The other man saw a red barn. That cued a whole bunch of memories that he reported after being cued by the red barn.

That's made a huge impact on my thinking, not just in the context of this book but in my other work as well. I'll extend this over the next few posts.

What do you think of this? What are your ideas? I'd like to know. Post a comment.

Writing is, to me, an entrepreneurial activity. Entrepreneurial ideas are the life's blood of my writing and real estate practice. For entrepreneurial ideas go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com and for entrepreneurial real estate go to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog

Information or Disinformation?

P. 46 comes in Jana Pope with some information. Will allows her to tell, wondering if he should tell Henry. He waits to hear what it is. Does he tell Henry? You'll have to tell me.

But is what Jana tells him accurate or not? Am I informing the reader, or muddying the waters? It never hurts to confuse the issue. It keeps the reader interested because he or she doesn't know how this piece of knowledge fits in or whether it doesn't or whether it's even important.

But like making mayonnaise, it doesn't due to dribble in the oil too quickly.

What do you think of this? What are your ideas? I'd like to know. Post a comment.

Writing is, to me, an entrepreneurial activity. Entrepreneurial ideas are the life's blood of my writing and real estate practice. For entrepreneurial ideas go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com and for entrepreneurial real estate go to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog

Keys

On p. 46, Henry tells Fenton that Will needs to get back into Ian's office to get his hat. Fenton throws him the key, and Will lets himself myself into Ian's office. Fenton is giving Will a chance to get out of the jam he's in if he can find what he need. He looks everywhere, but no key. He gets his hat, though, so he feels calmer. The key didn't work and he has his hat. He's back within his comfort zone.

What do you think of this? What are your ideas? I'd like to know. Post a comment.

Writing is, to me, an entrepreneurial activity. Entrepreneurial ideas are the life's blood of my writing and real estate practice. For entrepreneurial ideas go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com and for entrepreneurial real estate go to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog

More on Pechivik

On page 44 we dump on Pechivik a bit. Here's some more. Pechevik calls Henry Mr. Harrison, rather than Harrier, just to send the message that the detective doesn't think Henry's so smart. "I've heard a lot about you, Mr. Harrison. People say you're quite the detective." Then Henry corrects Pechivik's missing of his name, for which the detective never apologizes, then says "I would never presume to be your equal."

If I were writing it again, I'd use the word "pretend." Quibbling, probably. Nonetheless, Henry's saying he wouldn't stoop so low as to be on a level with Pechivik, which the detective misses and thanks for the complement.

This is double characterization. With the dialogue that they share their personalities leak out a little. Which is what we want. And the humor makes it all go better because it's grounded in Henry's personality.

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Writing is, to me, an entrepreneurial activity. Entrepreneurial ideas are the life's blood of my writing. For my entrepreneurial course, Entrepreneurship on Line, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com. For entrepreneurial real estate to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog.

Richard Pechivik

On page 44 we meet the police detective who is investigating Ian's death. He's right out of Sherlock Holmes, ignorant, inept, stupid, a comic figure which we are free to ridicule. I wonder how Scotland Yard felt about Doyle ravishing their detectives. I but at least some of them were upset about it.

If I were living in Philadelphia then as I am now, I would probably given him a different name, maybe George Passyunk, or Carl Kingsessing or something. I don't know. But this will well enough.

Whatever his name, he has absolutely no respect for Henry, whom he incorrectly calls Mr. Harrison. And he tells Henry in no uncertain terms to butt out of the matter and that the real professionals [the police] will handle it.

He also tells Henry that his favorite student is being charged with 1st degree murder. This of course drives the story forward.

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Writing is, to me, an entrepreneurial activity. Entrepreneurial ideas are the life's blood of my writing. For my entrepreneurial course, Entrepreneurship on Line, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com. For entrepreneurial real estate to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog.

William Primrose

On p. 40, Henry is giving Will a tour of his studio. There's a picture of William Primrose on the wall. Will asks, "William Primrose?" Henry nods, and Will says, "I only bought every record he ever made." Henry says he taught at he Kearney school for a time.

Primrose was the first really prominent violist. Walton wrote his viola concerto for Primose and he together with Gregor Piatigorsky and Jascha Heifitz, two of the preeminent soloists of the 20th century made a series of chamber music recordings which I devoured as a youth.

No I didn't buy every record Primrose made. I don't think he made all that many. But there are certainly a lot more fine violists out there today then then. Primrose did teach at the Curtis Institute for a while. Primrose was British, Piatigorsky (cellist) and Heifitz (violinist) were Russian.

What do you think about this? Can we talk about writing here? Post a comment.

Writing is, to me, an entrepreneurial activity. Entrepreneurial ideas are the life's blood of my writing. For my entrepreneurial course, Entrepreneurship on Line, go to www.hatman2.blogspot.com. For entrepreneurial real estate to www.yourstopforrealestate.com/blog.