Rules of Four - 19th Post

November 10 , 2009

ROLAND'S RULES OF FOUR - A WINNER'S GUIDE TO SUCCESSFUL SELF-PUBLISHING

XIX

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Idea Germination 3

It was during the last post that I began outlining the 60 year process from idea germination to actual hold-it-in-your-hand book fruition. But, as my daddy would say, I "tried to bore a big hole with a little auger." I ran out of time and space. So let's finish now.

As a kid, I heard and read about the psychiatric hospital's escapee; recollected it as a young man; researched it during maturity; and decided to write it upon seniority.

What spilled from my keyboard was, however, decidedly different from the story I envisioned. Originally, I wanted to tell about the reclusive character from my youth in real time; learn of the war theaters to which he was assigned; about his breakdown in combat; about the horrors he went through. I wanted to know about his psychoanalysis, the hospitals where he received treatment. And I wished to know what kinds of treatment he received.

Silly me. There was to be no background information about Steve Solavitch made available for research. Privileged information, I was told, about patients, past or present, simply could not be allowed. "That's why newspaper accounts of the period was so sketchy about the `Umpqua Wild Man'!" I exclaimed. "The media was, at the time, stonewalled about the guy's past history, too."

Because of that stonewalling, I gradually became skeptical of the accuracy of those newspaper accounts. Reading between the lines, it was easy to see all the information available to the media emanated from the Douglas County Sheriff's Office; and that Sheriff's officers were the ones continually thwarted in their efforts to run the "wild man" to ground. Might they have "shaped" their news releases in manners that wouldn't leave egg on their faces?

What if the so-called "wild man" wasn't really wild? What if, in fact, he wasn't crazy, but was being driven so by systematic and uncompromising authority? What if the crimes he was accused of committing (petty thefts from unattended cabins) was the only way the fugitive could survive? Could I survive under such conditions? Could you? Could anyone?

Perhaps you can see how I was driven to novelize the Steve Solavitch story--I really had no choice. And if I'm to fictionalize the tale, let's change the protagonists name so there can be no nitpicking about the kind of story I'm spinning. Let's see, I'll name my protagonist Mikhail Baranovitch. And since little could be known about the real character's early life, why don't we create one for him, like a Serbian kid raised in one of Montana's mining districts?

Don't forget the war record! Let's put him in New Guinea as the undermanned Americans struggled without proper replacements and supply to stem the Japanese thrust toward Australia. History says World War II New Guinea was not exactly a quiet place for a fighting man. Let's see, yeah! "Bloody" Buna! Saidor! Aitape! All were fierce, terrible battles. That's where I'll put him.

What about the hospital and staff? That's easy. I was raised as neighbors to many of them. The chief psychiatrist lived just down the road from me; his son was in my class in high school; I visited often in their home. I played softball and basketball with the hospital's physical therapist. My sister-in-law's father worked as an orderly. Hell! I can easily cover that angle--just change their names so no one can claim slander if something slips while I'm in a creative mode.

What about the treatment, then? Umm, that's a little harder. With no prior training in my background, I had to resort to logic and midnight reading of psychiatric texts and stories. Then serendipity took a hand when 50 years after the events transpired, I met a psychologist at an athletic club in Montana who actually served both internship and residency at the very hospital central to the story. My new-found friend agreed to read my manuscript. He approved.

The Dogged and the Damned was born almost sixty years after the events inspiring the story took place.

If you're inclined to marvel over how a series of "what if" questions led to a novel, don't be. That's what novelists do: continually ask themselves "What if my protagonist does this?" Or "What if he does that?" One answer leads to one tale, another answer might lead to a different tale.

Actually crafting that book is a different topic. It's number two on your Rules of Four list about book development: 2) You must tell your story well.

Thus far we've covered 1) you must have a story (or vital information) to share, and 3) you must package that story well. Now, we'll talk about developing your writing craft.

Next post . . . after a sabbatical to hear wolves howl!

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REVIEW

I made a promise when beginning this series of reviews to include only books having an influence on my life. Thus far I've kept to that promise and believe I'll be able to do so into the distant future. For instance, just this evening I did a quick run through of the thousand or two books occupying our shelves and came up with 22 titles that deserve to be reviewed. Added to the 18 thus far reviewed, that means you can feast your way through at least 40 reviews before I must go back to the well.

A list of some of the books to come include ones by John Madson, Robert Ruark, William Shirer, John McPhee. They'll include Killer Angels, Once An Eagle, Pheasants of the Mind, House of Rain, and many, many more.

Of those 40 thus far selected, no author is listed more than once, though it's inevitable that I'll come to that eventuality because some authors do more and better work than others. Similarly, as I dip farther and farther into my bookshelves, I must pull out books that. while still of some influence, had less (in my mind) than those previously reviewed.

Some titles may even seem trite to you, but when I'm assessing a books influence, I'm the standard, not you. A case in point might be Joe Back's Horses, Hitches and Rocky Trails. The book is short, humorous, and a book from which I learned to pack horses into wild country. Fifty years ago the book was essential to my learning curve and I have no intention of leaving it out of my list.

When I began these reviews, I did not fully realize how eclectic my reading habits were, but fiction and nonfiction are shot throughout. Conservation is well represented, as is action adventure. I like to think I'm a connoisuer of history, whether fiction or nonfiction.

You ask, "How can history be fiction?"

Killer Angels, a book by Mihael Shaara, is a classic example of how fiction can improve on history. Killer Amgels is the story of the Civil War's turning point--the Battle of Gettysburg. The book opens up the actual three-day battle, as well as events leading up to it, as told through the eyes of four commanders, two from the North, two from the South.

The only difference between accounts described in hundreds of textbooks and previous historical accounts is that Shaara added the dialogues between officers. What catgorized Killer Angels as fiction is something unreported in history--the actual conversations. Yet those conversations can be inferred by other accounts. No one, of course, knows exactly what General Lee said when he ordered General Pickett's Division to make their charge against General Meades entrenched forces--the suicide charge that broke the back of the Confedracy. But it's recorded that General Longstreet, Lee's right-hand man advised Pickett to refuse the order. And later, when Lee ordered Pickett to reassemble his shattered division, it's known that Pickett said, "General, I have no division!"

By the simple expedient of adding conjectured dialogue that even a knave or fool would have to admit is largely on the mark, Shaara brought excitement to historical events we've all yawned over in dry textbooks forever. The regrettable thing is that Killer Angels was released in 1974 to poor sales and no acclaim.

Until it won the Pulitzer Prize for literature in 1975, that is.

E.L. Doctorow was once quoted in an interview that "Everyone knows novelists are liars. That's the reason they can be trusted to tell the truth."

Historians who reports only what can be verified about the Battle of Gettysburg while ignoring truths that can be inferred are guilty not only of lying to their readers, but of killing the interest of generations of schoolchildren who want to be told the truth.

More next week on Michael Shaara and Killer Angels.

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