Sunday, April 27, 2014

What Evil Lurks in the Hearts of Writers?

As Cat & Cat undergoes a much-needed reformatting, I've taken the opportunity to reread the novel I finished two years ago. Although I know the plot, characters and structure intimately, I've noticed some stuff on this "fresh read" that I never considered while crafting the narrative. Most notably just how dark the novel turns as Chris Telamon gets deeper and deeper into his game of cat & mouse with Ron Barnes. Coincidentally, while I'm rereading Cat, a friend of mine is simultaneously taking the plunge. Thus, as I pour over the universe I spent two years creating, I can't help but envision the story's development through the eyes of someone who knows me, but only knows one part of me, i.e. the "outer" me, the version of myself I present to the world.

I encountered this same situation back when I first finished the novel in 2012. Family members and close friends opened the pages of Cat, and suddenly for the first time in my life people were walking around my "inner world" and taking snapshots, so to speak. I remember being terrified that my mom or dad or sister or father-in-law might suddenly look at me like some kind of twisted, haunted soul. I mean characters like Ron Barnes & Cindy Calabrese don't just materialize out of the ether. They have to come from somewhere. So do dead cats, victimized children and horrific tableaux like the novel's climactic scene in Titian, Ohio.

In reality, Cat & Cat (and every novel, short story or poem for that matter) is a guided tour through the dark landscape that the writer (in this case me) has so fervently hid from parents, spouses, siblings, in-laws and coworkers. Readers who know me invariably see me and hear me in the voice of Chris Telamon, and to some extent Ryan Leach and even Wormwood. It's only logical, then, that they would also see or hear me in the psychopathic rantings of Ron Barnes or the depravity of Bonnie Reager.

To be honest, I find that realization unsettling. I certainly don't want someone I know re-evaluating me as a human being based upon a story I'm telling. To anyone who feels so inclined, let me just offer this one disclaimer. As hard as it may be to read evil, living it internally and translating it upon the page is even more excruciating.

Sunday, April 13, 2014

The Background Music of My Life

When I was writing a lot back in high school and college, I required COMPLETE SILENCE to concentrate. I always marveled at the other kids who could compose coherent sentences with music blaring or the TV prattling. Come to think of it, when I first learned to drive I required the same kind of preternatural tranquility. Decades later now, and I'm the exact opposite. I can't write without mood music (all instrumental, no singing, thank you), and even a milk-run to Discount Drug Mart is accompanied by bumper-to-bumper jazz music, the latest audio book or a Great Course from the Teaching Company.

Toiling at my work desk all week, I find the surrounding drone of worker bees stultifying. It's not that they're talking, per se; it's that their banter is so mind-numbingly banal. Yeah, I'm a kind of dick when it comes to stuff like that. If you have something to say about Dancing With the Stars or the latest Cleveland sports debacle, please at least try to make your take somewhat fresh. I don't expect everyone to be Dennis Miller or Sarah Silverman, but at least make some effort. Otherwise, I'll tune you out and keep my own counsel. Sorry. It's like I just said. I'm kind of a dick like that.

Speaking of being a dick, I whistle. (Yeah, I'm that guy.) Not "Yankee Doodle" or the theme from The Andy Griffith Show, but jazz solos or entire symphonic movements I've subconsciously memorized. In my defense, I'm not even aware I'm doing it. My lips just transmit the background music eternally playing in my mind. People generally think I'm happy when they hear me whistle. But actually, I whistle when I'm stressed or preoccupied with a problem or puzzle. When I'm actually happy, I tend to be either laughing or asleep.

Anyone who reads Cat & Cat will know exactly what I was listening to as I wrote each chapter in Chris Telamon's voice. Tons of Clifford Brown, Fats Navarro, Don Ellis, Gerry Mulligan, Buddy Rich & the Gerald Wilson Orchestra. And absolutely no Miles Davis. For the Ryan Leach chapters, I changed it up and piped in the Dirty Dozen Brass Band, Big Sam's Funky nation and a lot of instrumental blues-rock. My dream is to one day record an audio version of Cat & Cat with soft music soundtrack to accent some key passages.

These days, as I write the new novel about Civil War reenactors, my soundtrack is a solid assortment of period tunes (Lorena, Tenting Tonight, Kingdom Coming, etc.), bluegrass, contra-dance along with heaping helpings of Gaelic music. For anyone interested in setting an 1860s or down-home fiddle vibe, you can't go wrong with Sarah Wilfong, The Second Carolina String Band, Martin Simpson, Mithril, Jenna Reid, Alasdair Fraser and Jay & Molly Ungar. By now, I've become so attuned to capturing the correct mood music that I literally can't write a word until I've found it. Which is a far cry from the kid who needed complete silence to pound out one word.

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

The Obligatory Jack the Ripper Post

In Cat & Cat, one of Chris Telamon's initial blogs addresses theories and conjecture surrounding the crimes and identity of the now legendary Jack the Ripper. Why this case still fascinates us one-hundred-and-twenty-odd years later is in itself a curiosity. Most Ripperologists can only agree on five confirmed victims for Saucy Jack, the so-called "Canonical Five": Mary Ann NicholsAnnie ChapmanElizabeth StrideCatherine Eddowes and Mary Jane Kelly. If you add Emma Elizabeth Smith and Martha Tabram to the tally, the list only grows to seven. Compared to other notorious killers of his era - Billy the Kid (19-21 victims), Joseph Vacher (11-27 victims), H.H. Holmes (27 confessed), Maria Swanenburg (90+ suspected) - Jack certainly didn't rack up that many kills. So why has the career of Jack The Ripper defined serial killing since 1888?

Much like today, Jack's notoriety can mostly be attributed to the media of his day. London newspapers competed ferociously for the public's disposable income, and reporters followed the age-old journalistic axiom, "if it bleeds it leads." Recently, British writer and former detective Trevor Marriott published a book positing the theory that Jack the Ripper was actually the media-hype creation of bottom-feeding reporter, Thomas Bulling, and never really existed at all. ( http://www.amazon.com/Jack-Ripper-21st-Century-Investigation-ebook/dp/B0056IV1EU ). I'm not saying Marriott nailed it, but like every new Ripper "solution" his research makes for a fascinating read.

So we go back to my original question. Why Saucy Jack? What about his life and career still inspires theory after theory, book after book 125 years later? Is it merely that the Ripper murders remain unsolved? I can only answer these questions for myself. Personally, I'm addicted to unsolved mysteries, and I read every new Ripper study for the same reason I devour new books investigating missing persons, UFOs, Bigfoot, conspiracy theories, religious & military history or particle physics. I simply want to know what happened. I meet a lot of people with similar attitudes in my daily life. As humans, I think we're hardwired to seek answers. For some of us, these answers relate to our jobs or home life. Others, however, such as myself would rather delve into mysteries outside ourselves. Call it escapist if you must.

As for "Who Was Jack The Ripper," I'm confident we'll never know. Certainty about Saucy Jack's identity seems as unattainable to me as certainty regarding the deity or life on other planets or the existence of ghosts. I love this about Jack, and it's why I keep reading everything I can on the case. I'm one of those people who hopes the journey never ends.

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Missing Persons

On August 8, 1977, I was 12 years old and ready to start sixth grade at Coe Elementary School. My sister, Kathy, was almost 16 and living in a different world, North Olmsted High School.  Late summer for my sister was all about marching band. In early August, she was already gearing up for NOHS's mini band camp: 7:00AM marching drills, 8 to the 5, the piccolo part to Stars and Stripes Forever. In other words, just the kind of stuff an incoming junior and now upperclasswoman should be consumed with.

On August 8, 1977, one of Kathy's classmates, Yvonne Regler, was pumping gas at the Sunoco station on the 18900 block of Lorain Road in Fairview Park. She'd previously worked at a Sunoco station in North Olmsted, but transferred to FP station to fill in for a vacationing employee. August 8 was her first day at the new position, and she was scheduled to work alone. Around noon, some of the station's employees stopped by to bring her lunch. They were the last people to report seeing her. At approximately 1:30PM, when a coworker arrived at the station, Yvonne was gone. Her purse, cigarettes and lunch were in the office. No signs of a struggle were apparent, yet investigating officers eventually concluded she did not leave the station of her own free will. Later reports came out stating that Yvonne had been dealing with some personal issues at the time. However, she had no history nor any pre-indication of runaway behavior. (Summation based upon citation on Charley Project ( http://www.charleyproject.org/cases/r/reglar_yvonne.html ).

When Yvonne disappeared, things changed in our household. Suddenly, my parents were concerned that my sister was biking three-and-a-half miles to NOHS at the crack of dawn every morning. Alone. I remember some muted conversations being shielded from my twelve-year-old ears. Then, eventually, Yvonne Regler's vanishing faded into the background hum of life in the 'Sted, as late summer marched into football season, Homecoming, the holidays, spring break and eventually another summer vacation. Yvonne's fate never really left my mind, though. I simply couldn't understand how and why she was never found.

Then, almost three years later in June while I was preparing to enter high school, Tiffany Papesh went missing while walking home from a Convenient Food Mart in Maple Heights. Although career criminal, Brandon Lee Flagner, later confessed to Tiffany's abduction and murder, many (including Tiffany's own family) discount his confession and eventual conviction due to the inconsistencies in his account and an alibi that certainly raises the specter of reasonable doubt. ( http://www.charleyproject.org/cases/p/papesh_tiffany.html ). For the sake of brevity, I won't rehash what happened to Amy Mihaljevic nine years later in October 1989. James Renner tackles the case in its entirety in Amy: My Search for Her Killer and his current blog: http://amymihaljevic.blogspot.com/ . I will say, however, that like Renner I find myself somewhat obsessed with missing persons and unsolved murders, a fascination which certainly inspired me to write and finish Cat & Cat.

Although I tend to abhor puzzles and riddles in the abstract, I find myself drawn to them in their tangible, real-life manifestations. I find it inconceivable that a person can simply just vanish without a trace, much in the same way I'm frustrated by UFO sightings, paranormal encounters, conspiracy theories or paradoxes in theoretical physics. Every mystery ultimately possesses a rational and in many cases an empirical solution. As human beings, I believe we have a responsibility to seek and hopefully find these solutions.

Cat & Cat portrays Chris Telamon's efforts to unravel one such multi-layered mystery - What exactly is Ron Barnes, and did he have anything to do with the disappearance of Lena Drajan? Having personally known victims of abduction and murder in his youth, namely Tamara Beckley and Bobbi Jo Retskin, Chris Telamon isn't just obsessed with the tragedy, he's haunted by it. Likewise, rookie Detective Ryan Leach is also obsessed with finding out what really happened to Tara Shumway and who is responsible for her death. This shared obsession, then, forges a bond between the blogger and the detective that enables them to look past their differences and work together.

In future blogs, I'll explore a number of missing persons cases that personally vex me. Some victims, like Holly Bobo and Lauren Spierer may be known to you. Others, from the newspapers and history books, will probably be unfamiliar. If anyone out there is fascinated by a particular case, please let me know, and I'll do my best to provide my informed opinion.

Until next time.

MK


Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Some Musings at 5:00AM

I actually started this at 3:00AM shortly after Ellie and Leo woke us up in a fit of barking. Thankfully, they're here to warn us about the homicidal deer they spied out the front window. I wanted to get up early anyway and get some writing in before work, so I guess I should thank them. Below are some random thoughts I entertained while waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.

1)  The worst part about taking a shower in the morning is having to get out and face the rest of the day.

2)   Eating well is expensive, time-consuming and labor intensive. I've been cooking every weeknight after I roll in after a 1.5-2 hour commute. It sucks. Take out was way easier and actually less expensive.

3)   So-called experts who advise everyone to "do what they love and the money will come later" are either deluded or sociopaths. 99.99% of us hate our jobs, and we're the ones who keep the world running so that the other .01% can be actors, professional athletes, artists, college professors and full-time students. I don't resent people who love their "careers." On the contrary. I want to be one of the .01% some day. I just want them to realize that the other 99,99% did not grow up with dreams of toiling in the retail, service, clerical & manufacturing industries. If you still have no idea what I'm talking about, read this article: http://www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2014/03/my-life-as-a-retail-worker-nasty-brutish-and-poor/284332/ . After being in the dark for most of his professional life, Mr. Williams finally starts to get it.

4)   I'm an agnostic, not an atheist. There's a huge huge difference. I may believe certain things based upon careful study and consideration, but I don't KNOW any Universal Truths. That's why I keep reading. The Answer isn't important to me; the pursuit of the Answer is, As an agnostic, I simply don't care about crosses in public parks, elementary school Halloween costume contests, coaches praying in locker rooms or satirical comedy lambasting religion. I don't get rabid theists or atheists, the same way I don't get people who KNOW the moon landing was faked or Princess Diana was killed by MI5. We'll all find what's out there when we die. I, for one, can wait.

MK