Character Profile: Smudge

After watching the recently released Aussie movie, The Last Cab to Darwin, I developed an idea for a character to feature in a new story. 

The story would have two requirements.

• It would be Australian with a rural character as the lead, a man who struggling to achieve an impossible goal.
• His life is turned upside down when a woman leaves town and dumps Charlie, her 11 year old daughter with him for a few days. Charlie becomes his ward.

Flying to Darwin last week I made a few notes about Silas. It is from those notes I now have a picture of who he is and how he sees himself.

Here are those notes.

Smudge owns a business across from the pub. Not a drinker himself, he knows what goes on over the road and is glad not to be part of it. He lives in a loft above the old showroom and is often in bed when the last patrons leave. Married in his early twenties his wife left years ago, she had hoped for more, but Smudge loved the town and its people. She wanted bright lights and shiny things, he couldn't afford.
     Years of battling the bank and chasing debtors has left him jaded with the system, but he races cars to take his mind off things. Psycho is his V8 powered, open wheel, dirt circuit race car and he loves it. The thrill of racing satisfies most of his desire, but not enough to scratch the itch of proper tin top circuit racing and he dreams of racing at Mt Panorama, Bathurst. A chance encounter with a race team offers an opportunity to see an event live and he is hooked.

Over the past few months I have wondered about how to write a screen play and for this book I have only written dialogue. I can complete the description later and until then I'll explore the techniques used to write screenplays.

Let me introduce Smudge, I think you'll like him.

NAME:                                               : SMUDGE         Silas Mudge

Position in story:                                 :  Main CHaracter

Age:	42
Nationality:	Australian
Socioeconomic level as a child:	Middle
Socioeconomic level as an adult:	Battler
Hometown:	Mechanic Owns his own business
Current residence:	Mezzanine above the workshop
Occupation:	Can do anything
Income:	Enough
Talents/skills:	Magician with mechanical devices
Salary:	What’s in the till
Relationships:
Birth order:	Only child
Siblings (describe relationship):
Spouse/partner (describe relationship):	Wife: (Ruby Staynes)  - left 23 years ago took what she could. Divorced and disappeared
Children (describe relationship):	None
Parents (describe relationship):	Dead
Grandparents (describe relationship):	Dead
Grandchildren (describe relationship):	None
Significant others (describe relationship):	No-one
Relationship skills:	Excellent, but won’t suffer fools
Physical Characteristics
Height:	187 cm
Weight:	87kg
Race:	Caucasian
Eye Color:	Blue
Hair Color:	Greying from red, salt & pepper beard when not shaving.
Glasses or contact lenses?	Glasses to read
Skin color:	Freckled & tanned (leathery)
Shape of face:	Narrow, spruces up quite well
Distinguishing features:	Killer grin
How does he/she dress?	Combination overalls with a rag hanging from the hip pocket
Mannerisms:	Always twitching and looking around.
Habits: (smoking, drinking/drugs/addictions etc.)	No, doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke after his dad threatened to beat him for smoking when he was a kid.
Any physical illnesses?	None
Health:	Fair
Hobbies:	Loves cars and racing
Favourite sayings:	Yep
Speech patterns:	Nothing discerning
Disabilities:	None
Style (Elegant, shabby etc.):	Shabby but can clean up hasn’t bought  new going out clothes since his wife left. Wardrobe clean but old fashioned.
Greatest flaw:	Generosity
Best quality:	Generosity
Personality Attributes and Attitudes
Educational Background:	Year 12 and then trade school
Intelligence Level:	High
Any Mental Illnesses?	No
Learning Experiences:	Life, parents died wife walked out and bank threatened to foreclose. Normal for a bush mechanic.
Character's short-term goals in life:	Survive
Character's long-term goals in life:	Be happy
How does Character see himself/herself?	Confident a bit maudlin at times keeps busy to forget past dramas
How does Character believe he/she is perceived by others?	Honest good at what he does, committed to the job the town and its people
How self-confident is the character?	Has some doubts but keeps them hidden.
Does the character seem ruled by emotion or logic or some combination thereof?	No, makes all decisions with thought. Constantly runs through different scenarios in his mind.
What would most embarrass this character	Being naked in public
Spiritual Characteristics	Unsure about an afterlife ready to accept death if and when it comes
Does the character believe in God?	Not sure
What are the character's spiritual beliefs?	Cannot comprehend an afterlife
Is religion or spirituality a part of this character's life?	His town is his spirituality, his tribe.
If so, what role does it play?	Keeps his belief system to himself.

Toby Farrier another rewrite.

I am editing my manuscript for TOBY FARRIER and as the words are beginning to run together. I thought I would share a passage from late in the book where Toby is keeping his promise to a dying man. I look forward to hearing what you think.

Toby wanted to say something. He’d seen priests deliver the last rights in movies, and could almost remember the words, but he would feel a fake if he said them. A prayer for Larry needed to be something more original. He lifted Larry’s hand and clasped between his.

Using his legs he dragged the chair closer, rested his elbows on the bed and thought about what he needed to say. Sure he could say the words in his mind, but that wouldn’t be a real prayer. No, he would say them aloud, and if others could hear, then maybe Larry’s God would too.

‘Dear Heavenly Father.’ No that sounds too corporate and, Larry was by no means that he thought.

Toby started again. ‘God if you can hear me, I’m praying for my friend Larry, I don’t know much about him Lord, but I’m sure you’ll have a record of his life up there somewhere. Well, I’m asking you to overlook any of the bad stuff Larry may have done, and to tote up his list of good stuff, please. I only met him yesterday and yet he showed me how to offer compassion to a stranger. I never fully understood that before.

When he asked me to hold Jock’s hand yesterday, I didn’t think I could do it. Right then, he taught me how to value the knowledge of a life well lived. Larry gave me that opportunity and I’m stronger because of it.

Even when his lungs were filling with fluid, he would con someone to take him out for a smoke, seeing the way he did that, I now understand the power of persuasive negotiation.

Larry showed me, that by taking a cigarette to his lips in his last days, that no matter how weak you feel, you can stand against popular opinion. I’m not saying I wish to smoke, I don’t, but. Larry cared about people, not their opinion of him. He knew exactly who he was and his body art defined him. He was proud of who he was.

Most of all Lord, I understand from teachings and what I’ve read, that you are a caring and forgiving God. In one day, Larry taught me to put others first. He has shown me that you go out of life with nothing. I learned that when he gave his ring to me. You see, Lord he couldn’t be sure I’d come back, but he wanted to give it to me anyway. So he showed me the value of faith. By asking me to sit here with him, Lord he’s taught me the value of trust and through my prayer, humility.’

Lord, Larry’s had enough trouble in his life. I’ve seen this in his drawings they show enough pain and conflict to fill the MCG. I don’t know if he has any family. Even if he does, he chose me for this, and I am humble.

Lord I’m asking you to take this ragged, painted angel, my friend Lizard into your arms and treasure him as a gift. When you receive his soul, thank him for me. I will never forget him.’

Toby paused and while he waited, his eyes moistened and he wanted to wipe them, but resisted, he still held Larry’s hand.

‘Amen’

How do you stop Story Ideas?

Story ideas are something I continually try to suppress. If I don’t, I find myself scurrying off on tangents and not working on my novels or other projects. 

This may well be one of those many, spur of the moment ideas, that result in nothing. Unfortunately, I now have to get it out of my system and will justify this diversion by saying it is for my blog. 

Everyone should post a comment at least two or three times a week to keep their blog or website relevant. Well that is what I heard anyway. As you can tell, this little rant is not going anywhere at present, but I am always building a file on things I have learnt and this piece could find its way into a book when I succeed in finding a publisher. So now as you see I have justified the diversion to myself and it is okay to plough on.

I’m sure all writers wake up with a burning idea and even scribble it down on a pad beside the bed. Some may even find a film contract for it. My problem is, by the time I have found the initiative to write it down. that idea is surpassed with an even better one and in less than two minutes. I start to write them both down and they are gone, that whole flash of brilliance has drowned like a match on the ocean. Not to fear it will come back, but not as the same idea.

I need help and over the next few weeks will try to find ways to derail this avalanche that ravages through my head. As I do, I will post an idea and the way I avoided it on the blog.

For instance, while listening to a talk by Matthew Naqvi at the Willy Litfest last Saturday, I had an idea. During his speech he said how people passionate about their craft had to make time to write. Grab a couple of minutes here. Take your work with you, scratch it into the pavement if necessary, but write. If it is an itch you have scratch, at least be prepared.

I had a notebook, as always, and wrote time thief in the column to remind me about his point. Now I’m in real trouble, on the way home I wondered about a name for such a thief and what his super powers would be. So now, after a few hours I have a book outlined and another project to write.

Getting back to Matthew’s session at the Willy Litfest, I learnt a lot an aspiring writer should know. His professionalism shone through and he encouraged writers to submit to different journals and publications. Sure we all have the World’s best novel in us, but writers have to eat too. On Saturday, Matthew pointed a few of us toward the soup kitchen and I thank him for that.

You can find the link to Matthew’s website by clicking here: http://matthewnaqvi.com/

IMPORTANCE OF SETTING AND PLACE New month New writing exercise

For June, Matthew Naqvi, our Wordsmiths of Melton tutor for 2015, set this exercise. We were required to email it him before we meet on Wednesday the 3^rd of June. 

I made some notes and wondered how I could apply what I'd written to Joe and Laura's story, in Les Gillespies Gold. 

It might not make it, but I've had fun writing this piece. I have made a couple of changes the Wordsmiths suggested and hope you enjoy my take on setting and place.

IMPORTANCE OF SETTING AND PLACE.

Write a two to three hundred word short story, describing a setting and place. Make it as strong as possible, while keeping it integral to the story. It must be pivotal and move the story forward.

SLEEP WANTED

Joe laid there, eyes closed. The bed was warm, cocooning them like a lover’s embrace. He knew it was 4.55 am; Harry over the road opened and closed his car door with care. The headlights lit the room. Joe supposed they did again today, just as they had every morning since Harry and his family moved in.

Joe felt Laura move a little and settle again, he wanted to touch her. He wondered about psychic ability and the power of suggestion when her foot probed for his leg. He smiled as she rubbed his calf in her sleep. She always did that about this time every morning. Her breathing had a comfortable rhythm and a smile crossed his lips. Just knowing she was his made him warm. He thought about their current problems and decided they were nothing to worry over, so long as she was there to face them with him.

Should he get up, close the door and go to the shed? The bed and being beside Laura tempted him to stay a little longer. Joe lie there focused on the shadow cast by the ceiling fan. His eyes adjusted to the dark, he eased up onto his elbow to peer over Laura’s shoulder. The clock grinned green at him. He squinted trying to read the digits, he needed his glasses, but the squint worked enough to see the dial to click over to proclaim, 5.11am.

He closed his eyes again to read the negative print of the time on his eyelids. The light coming from the window framed the curtains, like an old black and white photo. Les’s poem, his map and the fear of something wrong rolled around in his mind. If only he could get back to sleep.

Outside the rubbish truck made its way down the street Joe listened until it reached their address.

Without looking he knew the clock was grinning 5.23.

Toby Farrier: Manuscript Review

I recently sent a draft of my manuscript to a few independent readers to read and review. I asked each reader to offer comments on the book's beginning, structure and ending. I am thrilled with verbal comments to-date and will post e-mailed copies as they arrive at my in-box. 

It seems I have left the ending too open for Denise Lang of Dunolly, but that has been intentional. I want to take Toby on another adventure soon. Any way here is what she had to say.

Hi Terry,

Re: Toby Farrier Manuscript. 

I have thoroughly enjoyed it, don't know how you do it. But you do it bloody well. If that was the ending you definitely need to write a sequel cos I NEED to know if Darren and Toby mend their bridge, also a hint of what Darren wrote in the folded pages of his log. Is the ring valuable and if Slasher and his mum move forward with his teacher. Do Charlie and Arthur get to go on their trip and do John Evans and his partner end up together. 

Terry, you really need to get this published, I personally think it's on a par with Bryce Courtney's novels, which I couldn't get enough of. 

Cheers

Denise XXXX

Sent from my iPad

Writing Update.

Today finds me well on the way to 80,000 words and a feeling that the novel is about half way through. Having written two books before I am surprised at how this one is becoming both more interesting and difficult to keep the pacing right.

My initial plan was to aim for around 100,000 words forty or so chapters and about four or five plot lines, not so. The characters are more interesting as the novel develops and I introduce more frailty and evil in a couple of them. The main character in Kundela, Joe Gillespie, has had a minor role to-date, but in the last few chapters his character has become dominate. He is central to the story, always was but it has taken me forty chapters to get there. An editor may want to dump a few, but if I play this right, every plot twist will keep you wanting more. I'm sure Kundela readers will love the relationship between Tilly and her nemesis Sam Lewis. I had called Sam Millie originally, but when writing parts for Millie and Tilly, it was silly to read, and change was needed.

As the story builds more characters weave in and out of the narrative,  I have character sheets for my main protagonists that I refer to often. I will need to complete more for a sprinkle of new ones.

At our Wordsmiths of Melton last week my chapter twenty four was being critiqued and I am pleased the first draft received the following comments:

Terry,

This is good writing. The characters are building well and the plot is developing nicely. I enjoyed it very much. I read it aloud and it sounded good. Other than one small comment I have no other concerns.
Les (Stillman)

I enjoyed this chapter and you're moving the story along nicely, showing mixed feelings between Tilly and Sam and also the aggression between Gino / Sam. Good chapter look forward to reading more.
Sonia (Doherty)

(Sonia had five small concerns that can be addressed in the re-write)

Terry,
From a copy/edit perspective this piece is very good, just one typo that might prove correct, I'm not sure. It's developing well. the finished story should satisfy the most discerning reader. Next chapter please.
Frank Ince

Frank was concerned about the following phrase: 'She tell you that?'

Tilly's friend Fiona is asking her about Sam. As it is dialogue I'll probably leave it, but if it were in the narrative I'd use, told, instead of, tell.

Here is that part of the chapter"

‘No, not really, what I can tell you is; she is definitely a size eight. Not an ounce of fat on her and her hair is natural.’

‘No way, she tell you that?’

‘Nope, saw for myself.’

‘How?’

Well I have more words to write, plots to follow, murders to solve and villains to catch.

More later.

Terry

Trying to find the meaning of: Mooldarbie

When we were kids, my brother David and I were helping our father tidy up a hole on the Orroroo Golf Course. As usual we were mucking about, throwing clods of dirt at each other that may, or may not have morphed into stones as our battle progressed.

    Tired of that and probably because we ran out of suitable material, or Dad had had enough of our fighting, we decided to explore the creek behind the hole. I think at that time it was the eighth. We were climbing down the rock face and into the deep gorge, considering our age at the time, it is probably more of a ravine. Acacia bush clung to the sides where clay gave their roots a chance to take hold and they were full of insect nests that we thought were filled with the itchiest of crawlies.

   We only had a few steps to go until we sunk into the reeds that protruded from the narrow creek bed. A grey scrubber kangaroo burst from under a rock ledge and bounded up the path toward us. we dived for cover and our screams echoed down the gully. The smell of sheep manure mixed with dust and a mob of newly shorn wethers shot up the hill on the other side.

   Dad's voice boomed louder than I'd ever heard him. 

   'Get back up here now, before the Mooldarbies get you.'

   I had never heard anything like it and the word has always haunted me and what is a mooldarbie?

I used the word, in Kundela, when Joe is rescuing the girl from the bikies. I wrote it again in chapter Thirty Eight of Les Gillespies Gold and needing to check the spelling searched the internet. It seems I have spelled it wrong in Kundela, so apologies are in order and if I have offended anyone, I'm sorry.

  Today I found the word in a letter to the editor from the Adelaide Advertiser, 17th August, 1871. Mooldarbie means devil as I suspected, but the way it rolled from Dad's tongue and echoed across the valley and down the plain still makes the hair on my neck prickle.

Check the article from 1871 here: http://trove.nla.gov.au/ndp/del/article/28603868