things from my books (5)

One more thing from my book Ghost Medicine, and tomorrow, I'll move on to a different work. This is a hawk feather, which I've also held onto for many years. The boys find it in one of the final scenes in the story, and Troy, who has this unrestrained compulsion to explain things, tries to find meaning in the discovery.

One thing, I think, that is a common idea in my writing (as different as the stories, characters, and voices are) is that my characters frequently, in a very Jungian manner, look for connections in coincidental occurrences that are not obviously related. If that makes sense.

So, in Ghost Medicine, Troy decides that nothing happens in a vacuum, that all events and things are somehow connected in the "universe," even if there are no easy explanations for why events -- good and bad -- take place.

The hawk feather.

things from my books (4)

Please don't let me be misunderstood.

This is tobacco. Some kids call it chew, or dip. The boys in Ghost Medicine like it, too -- this particular brand, which shall be nameless. Some people got a little ticked-off with me about teenage boys using tobacco and drinking alcohol in my first two books. I guess teenagers don't really ever do that kind of stuff in the real world.

One of the kids in In the Path of Falling Objects even smokes pot, but I don't have any joints in my house to take a picture of. I know. What a loser. There are actually writers who don't have weed.

But I don't use tobacco, either. I used to like a good cigar now and then, but haven't had one in years. And when I was a kid, like the boys in Ghost Medicine, I did chew tobacco, but I don't do that any more, either, even though I do have this ancient can of it sitting here from way back when I wrote the book.

And here's a story about tobacco and the book: I was very fortunate to be invited to a meeting of this super-cool book club (called Book 'em Danno) after Ghost Medicine came out. All the members had read the book, and they really go all-out on their meetings: special food, the house was made up like a ranch with all kinds of horse-stuff, and they also had a special display of fresh cans of chewing tobacco, which I very politely declined to test.

But having been a tobacco addict in my youth gave me the ability, I think, to write about it in the book. The funny thing was, however, that writing about it did kind of trigger those old nicotine-soaked receptors in my brain and made me want to do it again. But I don't do it. But don't misunderstand me, it's not like I would completely turn it down under the right circumstances and just the right setting, either.

things from my books (3)

Here's something from my first book, Ghost Medicine. In that book, Troy wears a flat-rimmed black Stetson that was a gift. Not coincidentally, I've had this hat for many years... since before I started writing that novel.

And, like Troy's Stetson in Ghost Medicine, this one happens to be 4X Beaver, which, in hat language, means it's a pretty decent hat that will last a long time -- maybe forever.

Also, like Troy, I prefer flatter brims. But I haven't worn this one in years, so it's starting to curl a bit. I'll have to get it straightened out this winter, when I may wear it again.

But 4X Beaver also means (sorry animal people) that the felt used for making the hat consists of about 15% Beaver fur and 85% Rabbit fur.

That's just how cowboy hats are made. Used to be, in the old days, that 4X was about the best-quality hat you could get, but those marks meant different things 100 years ago. Now, you can find 100X hats, but you could spend four or five thousand dollars on one, too.

things from my books (2)

One more thing from my last book, In the Path of Falling Objects, and then I will move on to other "things" tomorrow: This is the wooden skeleton, a Day of the Dead decoration, that Lilly sees on the first page (a kind of disturbing one-page opener) of the book.

And, yes, as described in the book, his arms are freakishly and disproportionately long, but when I saw this guy on a trip through Mexico several years ago, I had to have him. He hangs on the wall in my office. He used to be right over my desk, and I can remember looking at him when I wrote that opening page of the novel a few years back.

Sadly, he only makes that one cameo appearance in the book, never to pop up again.

things from my books (1)

I'm pretty sure that most novelists do this: that we have "things" from our books that become part of the story. I know nonfiction writers do, but they kind of have to, unless you're writing a book about The Wonderful World of Maggots or something.

I'm just guessing that someone has written a book about maggots, too.

I know nonfiction writers.

They're creepy.

So, anyway, I thought I'd run a few posts with pictures of things that I have that pop up in my books (published and forthcoming -- ooh!), and, yes, I do have "stuff" from all of them, even the ultra-disturbing The Marbury Lens.

So to start things off, here is a picture of a meteorite I have. It's a little smaller than the one Simon finds in my last book, In the Path of Falling Objects, but, like that one, it is an iron meteorite -- my favorite kind. These meteorites are usually melted, burned-up bits from the center of asteroids, and they're generally thought to take over a billion years or so on their journey to the earth.

So, if you didn't know, when In the Path of Falling Objects is honored next fall with an award from the Southern California Children's Literature Council, I'll be wearing this guy around my neck.

plot mapping

I just got back from a five-mile run.

One of the reasons I run every day is that I do not outline when I write. I know, that's a strange justification for running, but it happens to be true.

Maybe it's a consequence of having lived as long as I have, but from time to time I can't help but wonder how different my life would be today if I had made different choices when I had to make decisions about my direction. I definitely am not talking about regret -- I just wonder, sometimes, how different my planet would be if i didn't do some of the things I did, or if I did things I chose not to do.

Since I live up in the mountains, running here is a very quiet and isolated thing. I don't have to worry so much about traffic and crossing streets as I do rattlesnakes and stuff like that. So when I run, I usually map out all the things that will happen if my characters make different choices.

It's kind of like being a good chess player (which I am not) -- seeing not just the move you have to take, but seeing the next three or four moves down the line. So, when I write my books, I suppose that, in reality, I am writing several books at the same time because I'm always plotting out all the things that will happen down the line if my characters choose A over B.

But I never outline.

And I never really know how my books are going to end until I've put enough miles in on the trails.

messages on sunday

I'm not going to say anything today. I just wanted to share a couple of links to other blogs that are pretty damn good.

The first one is Wandering Librarians, who posted a review of my upcoming November 9 release, The Marbury Lens, while I was out of the country a few days ago. I just saw the post yesterday, but I think the reviewer definitely "gets" the point of the book. Very nice words there.

And the second is an interview I did for a kid named Charlie who writes the blog Boyintree. I've been reading Charlie's blog for a while now. I wish he'd be a bit more prolific with his posts, because he's a very good writer, and I'm not just saying that because he happens to like my book, Ghost Medicine. He has some very intelligent readers who comment there, too.