Author: R.J. Keller

Art and stuff

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Another Waiting for Spring question. Or rather, two questions:

Are you an artist, like Tess? And what is Van Dyke Brown?

* Do you consider this art? I call it:
Arms Up, Arms Down, Arms Behind Your Back

Seriously…no, I’m not. Like Tess I sometimes struggle to express myself verbally. Instead I have my keyboard. She has her paintbrushes. I did do a great deal of research before I put those brushes in her hand, though. I have a close friend who is an artist (her stick figures are much better than mine), and I peppered her with so many questions that she stopped answering her phone when she saw my name pop up on the Caller ID. Next I read several books and visited lotsa websites to fill in some of the blanks. Finally, I bought a canvas, easel, and a bunch of acrylic paints and brushes and went to work. The result was hideous, and was immediately destroyed (also research; if you’ve read the entire book, you’ll know what I mean), but it did give me a feel for the process. And it gave me one of the biggest headaches of my life. I was kinder to Tess, and let her paint with the windows open.

* Van Dyke Brown: CLICK HERE.

Small town, Sunday night

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My dryer died last night, and I had to go to the laundrymat to dry my clothes. There are few places stranger than a laundrymat. There I was, folding my socks and underwear at a public table, under fluorescent lighting, in front of a plate glass window facing a crowded parking lot, no less; right next to a guy who was folding his socks and underwear. I’ve known this guy since we were kids, and we’re on generally friendly terms, but neither of us uttered a word the entire time. We were too busy trying not to look at each other’s underwear.

Why I Love Script Frenzy

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3. Like Napoleon Dynamite, I’m always on the lookout for new skills. Script writing is a skill, it’s damned hard, and I take my hat off to anyone who’s mastered it.

2. I’ve learned the art of OUTLINING. It’s something I’ve always hated doing in the past, but is an absolute necessity in this kind of writing. Not only did I enjoy doing it this time around, I’m actually itching to outline the next novel that’s bouncing around in my gut. Go figure.

1. This thread right here on the Script Frenzy forum. Funny as hell. I think the guy should totally go for it. I mean, wouldn’t YOU love to see an army riding moose into battle? I know I would.

It finally happened.

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I’ve been whining for months about wanting a good book to read; a book “that would grab me by the hairs of my heart.” Thanks to my very good friend, Elle, I finally got it. The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak.

Official Synopsis That Doesn’t Do The Book Any Justice:

It’s just a small story really, about among other things: a girl, some words, an accordionist, some fanatical Germans, a Jewish fist-fighter, and quite a lot of thievery. . . .

Set during World War II in Germany, Markus Zusak’s groundbreaking new novel is the story of Liesel Meminger, a foster girl living outside of Munich. Liesel scratches out a meager existence for herself by stealing when she encounters something she can’t resist–books. With the help of her accordion-playing foster father, she learns to read and shares her stolen books with her neighbors during bombing raids as well as with the Jewish man hidden in her basement before he is marched to Dachau.

This is an unforgettable story about the ability of books to feed the soul.

But it’s not the story that makes this novel ‘unforgettable,’ it’s the characters. They will move and inspire you. They will make you laugh. They will break your heart. After spending the past several days wrapped up in Mr. Zusak’s words, my own seem so cheap, and the only three I can think of are these: Read this book.

iTunes Celebrity playlist

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Okay…I’m not a celebrity, and I don’t play one on T.V. But I do have a playlist. And some of ’em aren’t on iTunes.

1. Tougher Than The Rest – Bruce Springsteen. Best love song ever written. Ever.

2. Little Girl Blue – Janis Joplin. When she sings, “I know you’re unhappy…honey I know just how you feel…” you know she ain’t lyin’.

3. Add It Up – Violent Femmes. I’ve waited my whole life for just one…

4. Come To My Window – Melissa Etheridge. “I would dial the numbers just to listen to your breath.” That is the hottest lyric ever written. Ever.

5. Sideways – Let’s Go Sailing. I just can’t get sick of this song.

6. Tumbling – Gumball. Obligatory obscure song that makes people say, “Look at how funky she is! I will never be hip.” Actually, a very cool song from an awesome CD.

7. Kayleigh – Marillion. Because it reminds me of 1985. But in the good way.

8. Coming Up Close – Til Tuesday. How many songs can make you feel homesick even when you’re home?

9. Pink Cadillac – Bruce Springsteen. Natalie Cole should never have been let within a mile of this song. Never.

10. Sunday Morning Coming Down – Johnny Cash or Kris Kristofferson. Either version. Just a great song.

Boa constrictors from the inside.

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Today I got an email with a question about my novel, Waiting for Spring:

Anne of Green Gables obviously had a big impact on Tess, and your use of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintainence hints at Jason’s struggle to connect with his father (or his father’s memory), but some parts of Waiting for Spring remind me of The Little Prince. Is this the case? And if so was it conscious?

–Lisa, Maine

I read The Little Prince for the first time when I was nine, the second time when I was nineteen, and I’ve read it several times since then. It’s probably obvious that I love the book, but any influence on Waiting For Spring was unconscious…except for this passage from Chapter 3:

And anyone unlucky enough to ask me that fatal question [“what do you do for a living”] without preceding it with at least two others–for example, what books have you read lately or who’s your favorite ballplayer–was answered with:

‘I’m a lumberjack.’

Because any person with a greater interest in what it is I do to earn enough money to afford rent and music and beer and food and jeans–rather than in the fact that I think Bill Lee is the coolest guy ever to climb onto the pitchers mound–deserves to think I spend my days in the woods cutting down trees.

It’s an homage to this, from The Little Prince, chapter 4:

When you tell [grown ups] that you have made a new friend, they never ask you any questions about essential matters. They never say to you, “What does his voice sound like? What games does he love best? Does he collect butterflies?” Instead, they demand, “How old is he? How many brothers has he? How much does he weigh? How much money does his father make?” Only from these figures do they think they have learned anything about him.

I can also say that Tess is a prime example of what happens when a person of artistic temperment grows up surrounded by people who see hats instead of boa constrictors from the outside.

A little aside (and a confession) regarding Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintainence. Originally, I used it as a hats-off to a buddy of mine (who is a frequent visitor of this blog.) He’s been trying to get me to read it for a few years now. So when I needed a cool, quirky book for a minor character to read that would show some hidden depth, that’s the first one that came to mind. It was only later, after perusing ZAMM myself, I caught the father-son angle and decided it would be a good way to show Jason’s internal struggle; thus I had Tess mention that it was one of his favorites.

Writers love feedback!! So do mothers!!

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I have joked in the past about the thousands of emails I receive each week from readers of this blog. Today, though, I speak the truth when I say I’ve gotten four different emails from four separate readers (none of whom are related to me by blood or marriage) in the past week with lots of feedback, and some questions, about Waiting for Spring. I’ll be honest…I’m wicked excited about that.

So far, the most commonly asked questions have to do with the characters; namely whether or not any of them are based on real people. The answer is a resounding NO. I especially want to make it clear, for the record, that Tess’ mother in no way resembles my own mother, who is the very model of a modern supportive Mom. She’s had a copy of a poem I wrote about banana bread hanging on her refrigerator since 1984. Or, to be more precise, she’s had the poem hanging on three consecutive refrigerators since then.

Another common question: Are New Mills, Brookfield, and Westville real towns in Maine? Again, the answer is No. Struggling mill towns are a sad reality up here, so it wasn’t difficult for me to create this fictional world, but Portland and Bangor are the only real places visited or mentioned in my novel.

Finally, a rather touchy subject: Yankee fans. I don’t hate them. I have a very good friend who happens to like…that team. We simply choose not to talk about baseball. This makes for very long and silent summers…

Stay tuned for more Q & A, and feel free to send me any of your feedback and/or questions. You can either email me at rjkeller.wfs@gmail.com or you can put ’em in the comments section of this post. Just one request: As a courtesy to those who are in the middle of the novel, please don’t post anything spoilerific here at the blog. Thanks!