Wednesday, December 8, 2010

An evening with the elusive blue peckered Logan!

If you follow the works of John Sandford and Chuck Logan, you'll see--if you read closely enough--that the two old friends have an ongoing semi-inside joke where they sneak mention of each other in their books. In Sandford's latest book, Bad Blood, reference is made to a flock of chickens, one breed of which are 'blue peckered Logans'.

Funny stuff.

I met Logan three years ago. I was writing for Stillwater Living Magazine (off and on) at the time. The publisher had heard that Chuck had a new novel near completion and had used a local book club as a sounding board/critique group. The publisher's thought was to work up a story for the following month's issue.That didn't happen.

Instead, I...as a fledgling novelist, got an early, brutally honest look inside the world of writing and publishing, and the lessons learned that day...well, most of them...have stuck with me since. Those early rambling talks with Chuck have improved both my writing and my understanding of the publishing business in many ways.

Last night Chuck gave a talk at the local arts guild, ArtReach St. Croix. The plan was, I think, to have him talk about writing and the publishing business in general, and give the group a peek at his newest work.

He began by reading a 10 or 12 page excerpt of his latest novel. When he was done I asked him if it was the beginning of the book or the ending. He looked a little irritated. The crowd of close to 30 people behind me gave a little murmur. "Why do you think it's the beginning or the end?" he asked.

When I told him it seemed so...not overwrought and wordy...but terribly thorough and brutally introspective.  It had to be the grabber at the front, the critical first chapter--or the wrapping-up of whatever the main conflict of the story was. Plus, an entire book that intense and lyrical would make most people's heads explode.

Gasps from the crowd! A laugh from Chuck! We were off to a good start.

As he talked about his books (8 thrillers over the last decade or so), about writing, editor wars, agents, and Logan lore, he fielded many of the rote questions aspiring writers ask cheerfully, often deflecting the rote boring answers into more thought provoking discussion.

There were a group of high school aged young men in the audience. I was pleased to learn that they were there mostly of their own volition. It wasn't an assignment for Composition 101 at the high school...they were interested in writing and listening ot a successful and prolific author.

I met some people involved in the local literary scene and plan to become involved with ArtReach St. Croix in the future. They have recently started a couple of writing groups. One is strictly concerned with poetry--so you know I won't be going near that one! The other is a broad based writing group...fiction, non-fiction, and memoir (One out of three? hmmm). I'm going to give it a try, anyway.

But I digress...

Logan's an orphan now...no publisher and no active contracts...the victim of ill advised editorial shuffling hi-jinks. This not uncommon in the industry. The recent financial meltdown didn't help any. And it probably would have gone better for him if South Of Shiloh, his latest book, had sold more than three copies.

But he's got one hell of an agent, friends in the industry, and is a tremendously talented writer.

After the official talk Chuck, yours truly, and another fellow--JP (who had asked several good questions during the program) retired to his office...a tiny walk up apartment on 3rd Street where he does the bulk of his writing, to continue the conversation. And have a smoke.

I don't know why he does it. I know Logan well enough to know he's not entirely comfortable doing it, the anguish is plain in his body language and on his face while he's working through it, but by midnight we'd agreed to form a loose group to critique at least parts of each other's work after the first of the year and if...IF...the mighty Logan deems us worthy he's going to make a few calls.

Cool!

So, fellow unpubbed writers, when you get a chance to schmooze...schmooze your ass off! That's my advice.

Now, back to Dodge, Iowa and some serious writing.

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