So as I tentatively test the concept of Twitter, and knowing full well that by some standards I am about 100 years behind times, I thought I would explore what modern day concepts some of my classical literary heroes might have observed.
And since I must begin with the bard-
William Shakespeare - Youtube
Edgar Allen Poe - Blogger
Lord Byron - Twitter
John Milton - Satellite radio program
Charles Dickens - Cell phone novels
Jane Austen - Kindle
Mary Shelley - Fan fiction sites
Alexander Dumas - Gamer
Fyodor Dostoevsky - Independent press - pay as you go and in his case I hope it's not by word
Ernest Hemingway - Online columnist (secretly in league with Man vs. Wild and Rick Steve's)
Sorry the list is not much longer but I was trying to limit myself to one author per electronic publishing format. I would love to hear about anyone you would like to add to this list.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Oregon Coast part 2
The Oregon Coast was hit as hard as any part of the country during the 1930's. Jobs were scarce. Newport boasted a bustling population of 750. With tourism down there was little relief and many merchants simply shut their doors. A group of merchants formed the Newport Relief Society. They deposited whatever money they had and printed Newport Script in 1933. This was used as currency in lieu of cash and recalled after 100 days. Each script had a corresponding cash value and redeemable date. Each read:
Newport Script
Issued and redeemable by the Newport Relief Committee
Good only for Trade in Newport
Good only for redemption on or before (dated)
At the office of the Treasurer of the Newport Relief Committee.
The objective was to keep the currency flowing in Newport and discourage going outside the community. However well intentioned this strategy was, the real relief came with the announcing of the Yaquina Bay bridge project built with funds from the PWA. This bridge along with four other bridges was part of the effort to connect Highway 101, Roosevelt Highway, from Astoria to Brookings. The building this bridge brought many needed jobs to Newport. They broke ground in August 1934 and the bridge was dedicated on October 1 1936 and replaced the ferry system. The last ferry to cross the bay was the Sadie B.
-research courtesy of The Bayfront Book by Steve Wyatt and Newport, Oregon-The First 100 Years by Robert and Rose Troxel.
Looking south toward the Marina
This view looking toward the South jetty.
In this detail you can see the Art Deco influence in the concrete.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
The Sights
I spent last weekend down on the Oregon Coast to shoot pictures and do research for my latest novel The Strange Tale of Rose Berg (formerly Rose Berg for you regular followers.) It is set in Lincoln County, more specifically Newport Oregon during the Great Depression before the Roosevelt Highway project announced their plans to finally connect all of the now Highway 101.
Fingering heavily into the narrative is also the historic lighthouse at Yaquina point, now a national park. In an endeavor to keep my muse alive and be authentic I shot 35mm black and whites with my father's camera. Incidentally it's about thirty years old. I experienced some technical difficulties including the camera popping open inexplicably at one point. So I had a fair amount of damaged film but managed to salvage a few gems.
I know when it comes to blogging we don't just want to read we want to see. After struggling a bit with topics over the last year I am going to using the next several posting to document my research. There are so many interesting bits of history I am gleaning that I cannot use it all in my story.
Yaquina Lighthouse - The first lighthouse was commissioned in 1871. In 1874 it was abandoned and figured in the disappearance of a young girl. The next lighthouse was to be built in Cape Foulweather but the materials were accidentally delivered to Yaquina Head so the confused Army Corps of Engineers built it there. That is the lighthouse you see pictured above.
This is the oil room inside the lighthouse.
A view from the top. This is looking south from the lighthouse and down the coast toward Yaquina Bay. About a hundred yards from the lighthouse there are stairs with several look out landings leading down to the beach. The beach itself is full of round black rocks, a local tourist told me that there was an underwater volcano near that beach to explain all the black rock. If you have ever been to the Oregon you know that it is know for its sandy beaches along its jagged coastline. So the black rock is a bit of an anomaly. I hope to discover this geological mystery in my continuing research. I think the volcano theory is far more interesting than the idea they might have simply shipped it in for the tourists.
Fingering heavily into the narrative is also the historic lighthouse at Yaquina point, now a national park. In an endeavor to keep my muse alive and be authentic I shot 35mm black and whites with my father's camera. Incidentally it's about thirty years old. I experienced some technical difficulties including the camera popping open inexplicably at one point. So I had a fair amount of damaged film but managed to salvage a few gems.
I know when it comes to blogging we don't just want to read we want to see. After struggling a bit with topics over the last year I am going to using the next several posting to document my research. There are so many interesting bits of history I am gleaning that I cannot use it all in my story.
This is the oil room inside the lighthouse.
A view from the top. This is looking south from the lighthouse and down the coast toward Yaquina Bay. About a hundred yards from the lighthouse there are stairs with several look out landings leading down to the beach. The beach itself is full of round black rocks, a local tourist told me that there was an underwater volcano near that beach to explain all the black rock. If you have ever been to the Oregon you know that it is know for its sandy beaches along its jagged coastline. So the black rock is a bit of an anomaly. I hope to discover this geological mystery in my continuing research. I think the volcano theory is far more interesting than the idea they might have simply shipped it in for the tourists.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
The Strange Tale of Rose Berg
Harold knew every turn and every pothole in the road as they barreled on down and caught up with the main road he thought about all the whiskey in the back. He hoped he hadn’t broken anything, not on this run. Every one of these bottles was spoken for. He looked over at the young woman. She was shivering worse than before. He remembered his first aid training about what to do for hypothermia. His face was hot thinking about it but the practical turn of his mind realized that beyond the awkwardness a life was at stake.
“I think you may be suffering from hypothermia or will be if you don’t slip out of that wet,” he paused for the right word. “Those wet close of yours. If you feel around behind the seat there should be another blanket.” He laughed nervously as the girl looked over at him. Her blank stares unnerved him. “Wish you’d say something so I’d know whether you speak English.”
The girl nodded and felt around until she found the extra blanket.
“Round here breaking down can happen quite a lot on these roads. Evelyn is always too cold so she stashes those things everywhere.” Harold kept his eyes fixed firmly ahead humming Ain't She Sweet, the only song he could remember. Then he recalled the words and stopped. Oh he would deserve every poke from the springs from that sofa tonight. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the wet blanket and her dress hit the floorboards of his truck.
The girl tapped his shoulder.
“Good. Good. You should be warming up now.” He finished under his breath. “Got help me if not.” The next step in his first aid training was not something he could ever explain to Evelyn, even if she was the one who told him about it. Again he heard Evelyn’s voice in his head.
“It isn’t much further now." He explained. "It may seem kind of strange but I’m going to have to turn the headlamps as we head into town. I’m hauling some cargo of a sensitive nature. It’s better if people don’t notice my truck at this hour. My wife and I run a local hotel. Nothing so grand as the Gilmore but we take care of our own. We got a pretty piece of an ocean view. You’ll like it. It’s the off season so Evelyn, that’s my wife should be able to set you up with a find room for the night till we can sort out what happened to you. If you ask me though we have the prettiest spot on the bay.”
Harold continued to prattle on about anything that popped into his head. He didn’t even know what he was saying anymore but the more he talked the more settled his nerves were and the more peaceful she became became. Her shivering stopped and the last time he looked over her chin was resting on her chest.
-follow the link to www.textnovel.com and read the rest of the chapter. If you are a first time user you will need to register. It's free and there is no spam. Don't forget to vote and check out my other stories. My pen name is the same as my blog-
Just as with the first installment of "Rose Berg" this story is in raw first draft form. Comments, constructive especially, are always welcome.
http://www.textnovel.com/stories_list_detail.php?story_id=2218
“I think you may be suffering from hypothermia or will be if you don’t slip out of that wet,” he paused for the right word. “Those wet close of yours. If you feel around behind the seat there should be another blanket.” He laughed nervously as the girl looked over at him. Her blank stares unnerved him. “Wish you’d say something so I’d know whether you speak English.”
The girl nodded and felt around until she found the extra blanket.
“Round here breaking down can happen quite a lot on these roads. Evelyn is always too cold so she stashes those things everywhere.” Harold kept his eyes fixed firmly ahead humming Ain't She Sweet, the only song he could remember. Then he recalled the words and stopped. Oh he would deserve every poke from the springs from that sofa tonight. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the wet blanket and her dress hit the floorboards of his truck.
The girl tapped his shoulder.
“Good. Good. You should be warming up now.” He finished under his breath. “Got help me if not.” The next step in his first aid training was not something he could ever explain to Evelyn, even if she was the one who told him about it. Again he heard Evelyn’s voice in his head.
“It isn’t much further now." He explained. "It may seem kind of strange but I’m going to have to turn the headlamps as we head into town. I’m hauling some cargo of a sensitive nature. It’s better if people don’t notice my truck at this hour. My wife and I run a local hotel. Nothing so grand as the Gilmore but we take care of our own. We got a pretty piece of an ocean view. You’ll like it. It’s the off season so Evelyn, that’s my wife should be able to set you up with a find room for the night till we can sort out what happened to you. If you ask me though we have the prettiest spot on the bay.”
Harold continued to prattle on about anything that popped into his head. He didn’t even know what he was saying anymore but the more he talked the more settled his nerves were and the more peaceful she became became. Her shivering stopped and the last time he looked over her chin was resting on her chest.
-follow the link to www.textnovel.com and read the rest of the chapter. If you are a first time user you will need to register. It's free and there is no spam. Don't forget to vote and check out my other stories. My pen name is the same as my blog-
Just as with the first installment of "Rose Berg" this story is in raw first draft form. Comments, constructive especially, are always welcome.
http://www.textnovel.com/stories_list_detail.php?story_id=2218
Monday, January 18, 2010
Shameless self promotion
An unnecessary evil of this world is requiring artists of all disciplines to self promote. In the information age it has become increasingly easier and more difficult simultaneously. We can reach more people therefore we are required too in order to compete. Further precious artistic energies are burned in this pursuit. If they fail in this or don't possess the gift of marketing along with talent, they blush unseen. For it is only after some success-or independent wealth-that they can afford to delegate these demands. Though, I have a feeling that is illusory.
That said, be forewarned, I am on a campaign. Whether I win the textnovel contest or not (yes I am back to that again). I am determined to prove The Raven and the Wolf as marketable. I need votes and subscribers. Do not think of it as a chore but consider that it is great entertainment. Here are some of my reviews so far from some fellow text novel authors: (You may read all remarks on the site and visit their personal pages through links on the site.)
That said, be forewarned, I am on a campaign. Whether I win the textnovel contest or not (yes I am back to that again). I am determined to prove The Raven and the Wolf as marketable. I need votes and subscribers. Do not think of it as a chore but consider that it is great entertainment. Here are some of my reviews so far from some fellow text novel authors: (You may read all remarks on the site and visit their personal pages through links on the site.)
“Simply put, fantastic writing.”
- on 2009-12-26 Luckydaniel
“Vivid and emotional. It is a beautiful story and I am loving reading it.”
- on 2009-12-13 Jessica Phillips-Breznican
"I'm not a fan of fantasy normally, but if anyone changes my mind, it will be you... Your work should be shared with others."
- on 2010-01-14 Samantha Grace
- on 2010-01-14 Samantha Grace
So enjoy the story. It is in serialized form so I will be making regular updates, usually two or three each week. Remember to vote, leave a comment if you like or send a private message if you prefer. You will have to sign up to vote but email addresses are not sold for spam. Use the below link to go directly to the story.
http://www.textnovel.com/stories_list_detail.php?story_id=2218
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Hope
I am moved this morning to take a departure from my usual literary fair to acknowledge the pain, suffering and devastation of our poor brothers and sisters-everyone-in the aftermath of Haitian earthquake. I feel like I am watching and reading about 9/11, the tsunami or Katrina victims.
This is me taking a moment to reflect on what and how I should pray for them. It is the most powerful thing I can do to help so far away. May their physical and spiritual needs be met. May they have comfort for their losses and the terror that still haunts everyday as mass graves become the resting places of their loved ones, neighbors and friends. May their prayers be heard and peace come upon their hearts despite living in this present nightmare.
It is difficult for those who are far away and it seems all the reports only go from bad to worse. Some (understandable) will be angry at God, yet he is not the author of these tragedies and is the only one to extend a real solution. He feels as we do when he sees these horrors. We are after all made in his image. How can the dim reflection feel more than the original? The pain the Haitians are now suffering is truly beyond any of us to comprehend.
Yet while that may be true let us admire their fight to survive. Let us acknowledge that while few of us can comprehend what it is they are going through, our loving concern links them to a worldwide family. And do not under estimate the comfort and strength of prayer. Even when we feel anger or fear at the the things we see, we have a powerful ally. "Jehovah is near to all those calling upon him," Psalms 145:18 New World Translation
(Please note these are personal reflections, though reaching a broader audience than a private journal. It is not my wish to draw undo attention to myself or my own thoughts, simply to express.)
This is me taking a moment to reflect on what and how I should pray for them. It is the most powerful thing I can do to help so far away. May their physical and spiritual needs be met. May they have comfort for their losses and the terror that still haunts everyday as mass graves become the resting places of their loved ones, neighbors and friends. May their prayers be heard and peace come upon their hearts despite living in this present nightmare.
It is difficult for those who are far away and it seems all the reports only go from bad to worse. Some (understandable) will be angry at God, yet he is not the author of these tragedies and is the only one to extend a real solution. He feels as we do when he sees these horrors. We are after all made in his image. How can the dim reflection feel more than the original? The pain the Haitians are now suffering is truly beyond any of us to comprehend.
Yet while that may be true let us admire their fight to survive. Let us acknowledge that while few of us can comprehend what it is they are going through, our loving concern links them to a worldwide family. And do not under estimate the comfort and strength of prayer. Even when we feel anger or fear at the the things we see, we have a powerful ally. "Jehovah is near to all those calling upon him," Psalms 145:18 New World Translation
(Please note these are personal reflections, though reaching a broader audience than a private journal. It is not my wish to draw undo attention to myself or my own thoughts, simply to express.)
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