'The Fracking War' making some tactical adjustments

WATKINS GLEN, New York, USA - After a few fits and starts, I finished rereading the first draft of The Fracking War today, with pages of copious notes to consider as I begin rewriting/editing.

Propane truck explosion

I had put enough time between draft and first reading to read carefully. If you read too close to the original drafting/writing, you miss stuff. A lot of stuff.

I took out the corny material, saw where to add more action/adventure/anger/angst, and now need to set aside a couple of days to add descriptions and a chapter or two in the rewriting process. Maybe more than a couple of days.

Weeks?

Having never fought in a guerrilla war, parts of this book were hard to put together. But as a miscreant teenager responsible for a good share of hell-raising, I am quite familiar with the concept of serious destructiveness.

From the 1984 film 'Red Dawn'

And if that serious destructiveness was in the spirit of saving the world/environment? Well, so much the better.

There will be more news about The Fracking War in the next few weeks.

But, attention Beta readers: Prepare for incoming!!!!!!

'The Fracking War' as it lands in Beta readers' inboxes

A photo assignment taken on the fly, completed the same way

MONTEREY, New York - The email from my editor at the Elmira Star-Gazette came Wednesday night. She needed a simple exterior building shot of a volunteer fire department's digs in a nearby town.

I believe she called it a 'building mug' and needed it Thursday afternoon for a weekend story/feature layout.

Sounded pretty simple, though getting it to her by 5 p.m. or so was going to be a stretch. I was in Rochester, NY at a medical appointment at noon when I committed to getting the photo. Rochester is  several hours north - plus I had several stops to make on the way back home. When you get close to a Trader Joe's in central New York, you stop, no question about it.

Building mug shot

The timing worked out so that I was in front of the firehouse - in a heavy rainstorm - by 5 p.m. And for this assignment, I was carrying the trusty Canon camera that went to Tonga last fall. But I was also carrying my newly acquired iPhone, the camera in which is excellent.

Slick, I thought. I'll shoot and send the photos from right on the spot - no need to roll all the way home.

I took three quick shots on the iPhone, cropped them and sent them. Well, I thought I sent them. If you have an iPhone you are familiar with that clever whooshing sound when a photo heads off through the ether. All three whooshed great.

Except when I went to call the editor to confirm they had arrived, I discovered I didn't have a cell signal down there in the little town of Monterey hollow - whoosh or no whoosh.

Santo Crappo!

Phone takes great photos, in rain or shine

I pulled out the Canon camera and rapped off some backup photos, then roared out of the little town, holding my cell phone in front of me like an actor in a really awful movie being chased by the bad guys. After zooming around a few hairpin-like turns, the cell phone signal popped up near the Watkins Glen race track. By the time I pulled over, the editor had already received the pix and chosen one.

Assignment completed. Editor happy. Photographer to get paid.

Whoosh!

First rereading of Part 1 of 'The Fracking War' is finished

WATKINS GLEN, New York, USA - I just reread the first segment (of five) of my draft of The Fracking War ("Prelude to War"). It was my first peek at the book since I drafted it last winter in Mexico.

Natural gas explosions, scary in real-life, too

I let it sit a long time so I would forget a lot of it. The time, I thought, would help me determine if it moved along fast enough, the dialog made sense and the plot was plausible.

Well, with some modifications, it looks like yes, yes, and yes.  Woo-hoo!

But it will be up to the Beta readers to determine if my somewhat-biased judgment is anywhere near right.

Where's my hammock?

It took a couple of hours to go through, reading fairly fast. I believe I will go back in the next day or so and edit this first section, making it final (as a draft). I had thought I would read through all five sections and then go back and edit.

But what I saw/read is pretty clear to me right now and doing it this way will make the editing task a little less Herculean.

Maybe.

Regardless, this writer needs a nap right now.

Right now. I'm writing myself a nap in this chapter of my life.

A Boy Scout salute derails my editing start on 'The Fracking War'

WATKINS GLEN, New York, USA - I had my printed out copy of the draft of The Fracking War sitting on my desk, ready for the red-pencil treatment just a few days ago.

The next phase in this process is for me to read it a closely as a I can, making changes, perhaps adding chapters if needed. Because it's the last time I will edit before it goes out to my beta readers, it's a little nerve-wracking. I want to be sure to iron out any inconsistencies, fix factual missteps and smooth out the roughest edges factually and stylistically.

It's been at least six weeks since I peeked at it. So in some ways, it will be brand new and I should spot things that I would normally have read right past had I done this when I first completed the draft in Sacramento.

My confidence was very high until I dove into a novel I picked up at the Watkins Glen public library, a book that seems to have  been through the traditional publishing mill: editors, fact checkers, fact checkers who check other fact checkers and the editors.

Did I mention the fact checkers?

Then I read these three sentences on page 7 of this novel:

"No long stories. Scout's honor." 

The detective lifted two fingers in a Boy Scout salute.

Santa Crappo! The author wrote that he lifted two fingers.

Boy Scout salute

My time with the scouting organization was limited. A couple of years as a Cub Scout. Maybe three as a Boy Scout.

I still say the longest summer I ever spent was a week at Camp Merz, a Boy Scout camp in Chautauqua County, New York.

But I did learn all that paramilitary protocol forwards and backwards.

Cub Scout salute

For the record, the Boy Scout salute uses three fingers. Cub Scouts use two. Believe me. I saluted my butt off. We had some retired military guys as leaders who loved the saluting.


So you might say, big deal, a minor error.

Yes, a minor error, but just the kind of minor error that should never appear in a well-edited novel. If the writer (and fact checkers and editors and the fact checkers who check the other fact checkers) can't get a detail like a salute correct, how will a reader believe the plot?

They won't. Which I why I will be reading The Fracking War even closer than I had planned.

Oh, by the way, there is some saluting in The Fracking War. But if I remember, it's mostly of the single-digit variety.

Fallling back into the news cycle: 4 stories in one week

WATKINS GLEN, New York, USA - I was back on home news territory only a few days before I went out on my first writing assignment for the daily Elmira Star-Gazette: Covering a trial of three people arrested for trespassing at the local natural gas facility March 18.

Protesters about to be released

They were blocking the entrance, making a political statement about how bad a proposed expansion of the project will be for the area.

It will be disastrous, actually.

But after that hearing - during which they were quickly sentenced to 15 days in jail - I wrote a second piece a few days later about their anticipated release.

Then the night of their actual release from jail I took photos to accompany yet a third piece published later that day about their release and their plans to keep fighting for environmental justice.

This story was a freelancer trifecta.

At the release of the prisoners, I managed to get scolded by a burly sheriff's deputy for standing up on a railing outside the jail while shooting still photos. He told me, "Get down before you fall down." 
 

Yes, it was cold shooting photos that night

It sounded soooo familiar. Then I remembered, that's exactly what I told all four of my children whenever they climbed on something.

I got down, by the way. Even with media credentials, you never argue with police, especially a cop that outweighs you by 100 pounds and carries a large caliber pistol and a nightstick.

Next up on the freelance writing/freelance photography deck is a photo shoot Saturday at the Tiki Bar Polar Plunge in Seneca Lake. Yes, it's exactly what it sounds like: jumping into 42-degree water. There will be large volumes of alcohol involved, too, so the swimmers will be able to warm back up.

Or warm up before they plunge.

OH! And The Fracking War draft? It's all neatly printed out in a box staring at me right now, making noises that say, Read Me! Edit Me! Publish Me! 

Maybe after the Plunge Saturday.

Last year's Tiki Bar Polar Plunge - hope the weather is as nice Saturday