Adventures in Writing, Part 3

I have no less than four active notebooks. Each contains little scraps of characters, settings and ideas for stories. I even save quotes from famous people, which I'll explain later. When it comes to subject matter for a story, I generally don't struggle too much for something.

The trouble is the way my mind works. I do not exaggerate when I say that the notebooks contain scraps, although, I admit to one containing fully excised story “outlines” ready for the writing.

Here's an example from my oldest active notebook which I've been using since 1998:

“A blind person – blind or deaf perhaps – compensates for what he has missing. His other senses work better. But what about a mentally handicapped person, where does she make up for the things that are missing in her head?”

I've never done anything with this little nugget, nor do I know if I ever will. Just knowing it exists is comforting. Here's another one from 1998:

“Sere is a former showgirl. She had to quit because of a knee injury, but in reality, that was just an excuse – she was unwilling to get a boob job. She hated the long hours of the physically demanding work and the concerns over the tool of her trade – her body. She may have quit, but she still kept in contact with her showgirl friends, they were a good source of information. They had boyfriends in high and low places.”

There's plenty more about Sere and her employer, Prof, and lover James. The three ran money-making scams in Las Vegas. Prof is a former child prodigy who chucked the world of academia to find a life in white collar crime in Las Vegas. James is a large Asian-American who can do a perfect impersonation of Sean Connery. The three take on a powerful casino owner who screwed Prof out of some money.

It's a story that has yet to be complete. The trouble I found was that the Las Vegas I was writing about hasn't existed in at least 20 years. Also, the story is kind of the same formula used in “Ocean's Eleven” movie. I was stealing from the 1960 original, but then the 2001 remake came out and there didn't seem to be much reason to continue. The characters still exist, though, and I may still use them from something. I kind of like them.

One final note from 1998:

“I stood in my driveway surveying the neighborhood. The air was crisp in my nicotine soaked lungs.

“The neighborhood was quiet. Too quiet. Something big was going to go down, I could smell it. The stench was so powerful that it penetrated the scent of my wife's famous liver and onions, which was why I was out in the driveway in the first place.

“That, and because it was my job to watch out for the neighborhood. I'm the block captain. I take my job seriously.”

The story goes on about how the block captain fights a monster from an another planet. I'm not sure why I didn't finish it, but I know I never will in light of Ben Stiller's movie “The Watch,” which is eerily familiar.

Along those same lines, I actually wrote the first draft about a former president who moves to a small town and runs for mayor, which is an awful lot like “Welcome to Mooseport.”

I'm not sure what the point about this is -- maybe that I have great ideas for crappy movies. Some people probably won't believe me. My wife, Robin, does. I told her about these stories long before the movies came out. To her, the point is that I need to get busy writing. Which is why on a Saturday morning I can ignore her and the kids, listen to the Best of Nilsson and do some writing.

I've got one last entry from my notebooks for you all. It's the most recent.

“A lost man found a magical girl who made everything OK for just a little bit. The man sees the world as a garbage heap and constantly contemplates suicide. When he comes close to the girl, he sees the world as bright and shiny. This all takes place in a Las Vegas that has a giant casino that moves up and down the Strip, 300 feet above, on rails.”

I've been thinking about this one for a week or so and I've already made about 10 pages of notes. This is the project I'm working on.