the final days of steam

Lately I have been riding a wave of nostalgia. This should come as no surprise, bearing in mind my preference for looking to the past rather than the future. I believe I am in a minority there but a sizeable minority. After all, how glorious it is to bask in the warm glow of happy memories and uncomplicated times. Our brains cleverly filter the not so good and the plain awful leaving a sense that life used to be better.

 

In particular I have been wallowing in The Rank Organisation’s “Look at Life” series of documentary ‘shorts’ from the nineteen fifties and sixties. That bastion of the British film industry Rank, which blossomed from unlikely roots in flour milling, produced and distributed its own films and screened them in its own cinemas to fill slots between features. There is a store of some five hundred of these miniature ten-minute classics covering technology, culture, sport, transport and innovation, a showcase for all that was great about Great Britain.

 

Sixty years ago the Second World War was a very recent memory, there was unemployment, often poor sanitation, no central heating, and life was devoid of the luxuries we take for granted today. So, yes, life was harsh. But what shines through in these films is an indomitable spirit and an optimism which seems to have vanished from Britain today.

 

The narrator’s excitement when describing the launch of a new hovercraft on the Solent, or the introduction of Motorail, a miraculous new system for transporting cars on trains, is infectious. Progress happened because of decisive action. Plans were laid quickly but mostly carefully. This was all long before the arrival of decision by committee, when even the simplest idea becomes bogged down in endless enquiries and feasibility studies. It was an age of confidence and hopefulness. However it would not last.

 

Chill winds began to stir with publication of the first Beeching Report in 1963. Doctor Beeching took an axe to the British Railway system, hacking off four thousand miles of line and earmarking for closure, one third of the country’s seven thousand stations. This came at a time when the railways were already struggling to consolidate in a new era of diesel and electrification.

 

That brings me neatly though not consequently to the demise of the steam locomotive, still in the 1950s a technological wonder. In the glory days of steam entire families found jobs for life and shiny-faced schoolboys scampered along platforms clutching notebooks and pencils to record their sightings. Trains clanked into stations puffing and hissing like massive lungs while others streaked through non-stop whistle screaming and smoke flattened to its back. There is something elemental about steam power, the production of staggering forces of locomotion from the simple fusion of fire and water.

 

But all too quickly steam trains had become dinosaurs with their reliance on coal. Soot blackened hulks were shunted to the scrapyard like huge, gentle beasts to the slaughter. Steam trains continued to run on the Southern Railway, my own neck of the woods, until June 1967 when the final steam locomotive puffed out of Waterloo on its way to Weymouth. I am delighted that far-sighted souls have preserved the very best examples for posterity allowing ninety tons of steel and iron to thunder across countryside at one hundred miles per hour, steam and smoke billowing in its wake.

 

Now, back to my Look at Life!

from the sublime to the ridiculous

The Tin Roof Blowdown *****
James Lee Burke (2007)

Set in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, Burke shows a different side to his beloved Southern Louisiana where now in New Orleans the majestic avenues of live oaks can only be navigated by boat; sanitation is crippled; and policing is sorely tested in a wave of lawlessness.

The plot sensitively handles rape, murder and deceit all spun into Burke’s customary and intricately woven web. The characters are rich and credible and as ever, the audio book is beautifully voiced by star narrator Will Patton. Larger than life Private Eye and bail bond agent Clete Purcel threatens to overshadow the more contemplative protagonist, Detective Dave Robicheaux but this unique pairing and their good-natured sparring are beacons of hope amid the flooding. Burke’s descriptions of the apocalyptic devastation are both tender and brutal. He manages to find natural beauty even in the face of catastrophe.

Action switches between Robicheaux’s home town of New Iberia to the west and New Orleans to the east. New Iberia was spared the wrath of Katrina and scenes there provide much needed respite from the horror. Burke tackles the tense issue of a white girl gang raped by a group of black youths. The shocking effect on the girl and her family exposes grim relationships and echoes the physical and emotional damage caused by the storm.

In an additional layer of tension, Robicheaux’s adopted daughter is stalked by an eerie character and the case becomes personal, culminating in one of Burke’s most gripping finales.

Bones Are Forever **
Kathy Reichs (2012)

An unappetising plot in which people who get in the way of a proposed new diamond mine and the ongoing rights to its profits mysteriously turn up dead. Apart from the vaguely interesting setting of Yellowknife and points even further north, there is nothing refreshing in this instalment.

Here are the perennial problems. Reichs’ disdain for the conventions of written English is intrusive: improper grammar, incomplete sentences, bullet points, seemingly random punctuation and made-up words. She probably thinks these come off as chic and trendy, and used sparingly they can convey a mood but when the book is drenched in examples it becomes tiresome.

The characters are stereotypes, each with a predictable flaw; the cliff-hangers are juvenile and the pace breathless; the dialogue is quite contrived North American slang; the heroine ludicrously takes over Police investigations. But it’s the made-up language that turns me off most. The following are routinely used as verbs (and I’ve added their objects where it might help): pocket-jammed (hands), palm-slapped (gear stick), palm-smacked (forehead), foot-hooked (chair leg), thumb-hooked (belt), finger-hooked (air quotes), chin-cocked, arm-wrapped, finger-wrapped, chest-crossed, eye-rolled, and numerous others.

I’ve listened to eight audio books in Kathy Reich’s Temperance Brennan series. All have come free from the library. I wouldn’t pay for one. I know what makes me listen to another even though I clearly find the experience mostly frustrating. Firstly it’s the choice of Linda Emond for narrator. Although she must feel queasy at giving voice to certain phrases, her exquisite diction and mastery of accents go some way towards saving the day. Secondly, it’s the compelling nature of the forensic details, the chilling work of the Pathologist. Doubtless Kathy Reichs is a world class Forensic Pathologist and her skills will always be in great demand. As to writing, she should stick to screenplays and an advisory role on Bones.

The Man in My Basement, Walter Mosley

 

Charles, a black man with no job and no future is approached by Anniston, a mysterious white man with a strange request. He wants to rent Charles's basement for four months and offers $50,000 which to Charles represents salvation from his creditors.

 

While straightening out the basement in preparation for his lodger, Charles discovers hundreds of items stored by his long dead ancestors, artefacts which an expert tells him are very valuable as they represent a significant period in Negro history.

 

Anniston moves in and takes up residence in the basement as a willing prisoner in a specially constructed metal cage. After selling some of his heirlooms Charles is no longer so financially dependent on Anniston and subtle changes take place in their relationship. The author introduces themes of race, sin and atonement and in a curious role reversal there are echoes of black slavery with Charles the black gaoler and Anniston his white prisoner.

 

This is a deceptively simple book yet is in fact multi-layered and dense with allegory. As a modern fable, the tale which unfolds is eerie and unsettling. Mosley's writing is precise and uncluttered and he has created memorable characters here.

making CD cases

These are downloads I burned to disc. The double discs required an adjustment to my patented homemade card cases. A few minutes tinkering with my template in MS Word and I printed a test copy. Good stuff, they work. Then I fiddled with RGB colour settings to match the album covers and filled the remainder of the design with the same colour. Finally I printed the resulting artwork on white card stock and the disc surfaces to match.

 

It’s quite a while since I listened to Hefner but inspired by recently getting back into front man Darren Hayman’s solo work I downloaded from DH’s site the latest incarnations of some of the band’s albums, double disc sets coming in at a whopping forty tracks each. So there are plenty of session outtakes, b-sides and acoustic versions etc.  The material is barely a decade old and has stood the test of time well. Darren Hayman is a hardworking Essex lad with an ear for melody and a lyrical turn of phrase that beautifully captures the minutiae of everyday life and the people who populate it.

 

Just need to find time to listen to them now!

fibromyalgia and running

A condition some believe may be fictitious or at least exaggerated. Try it for a while and see. The pain is intense and debilitating yet the only visible signs are a slight swelling and a warmth to the touch. Let's not overlook the psychological effects either, the miserable impact of an inability to perform simple physical tasks. Since leaving my job in financial services, which was at times stressful, my own fibromyalgia has receded. It lurks unfelt behind the scenes – and in the connective tissue – occasionally for months at a time. Such was the suddenness of my initial relief that I took a whole new lease on life.

There are fourteen medically acknowledged points around the body which can typically be affected by swelling, stiffness and pain but my condition is mostly restricted to the upper body, elbows mainly but also jaw, neck, shoulders, wrists and fingers. Flare-ups returned at times of anxiety and sometimes for no apparent reason but eventually held off long enough for me to take up running five years ago, something that would have been unthinkable before. Vigorous exercise has had no adverse effect on me, in fact quite the opposite. I am convinced that running hard, often for hours at a time has brought big benefits all round, proof that my old doctor Bernie Bedford was right when he told me, ‘there’s no contra-indication to exercise’.

It’s not all plain sailing. Bouts drop out of the blue, stay for up to forty-eight hours then mysteriously vanish but a combination of diet, sleep and exercise seems to hold the condition at bay. Still something unexpected will arrive. On Sunday I ran a half marathon in two hours one and a half minutes, a personal best by thirty seconds, and felt great afterwards. Two days later on Monday I noticed a dull pain developing in my right hip, definitely not post-run pain, I know all about that. During the night I awoke hourly, grunting and grimacing as I tossed and turned unable to find relief from the pain. By Tuesday morning I could barely put weight on my right leg and I limped all day. Wednesday morning... gone, and I ran five miles in forty-two minutes averaging 7mph.

***

I have just finished reading two books about self-editing for writers. I was aware while I read that I already employ some of the suggested techniques but I learnt new and excellent ideas. Today I started James Lee Burke’s Pegasus Descending and saw from the first paragraph the advice I had recently received put to beautiful and thrilling use. It is without doubt possible to learn the craft of the novelist but takes a lifetime of practice to challenge Burke's lyrical prose.

writing a novel

In recent weeks I have settled down to write. I had several ideas on my mind and I began by refining them into workable plots: a fast-paced thriller with science fiction aspects; a deep study in character and ‘coming-of-age’; a mystery within a tangle of modern relationships; and a slightly supernatural tale with elements of time shift.

 

I chose one of these and wrote the preliminary draft of a first chapter, a hook baited to attract the curious reader. I quite liked the idea and set about the necessary leg work. Using Excel worksheets I fleshed out personalities for seven or eight characters, giving them appearances, habits, backgrounds and lifestyles, oh – and names. Fortunately there are many Internet resources which help with name popularity in given decades. Next I drew up a timeline of events (a very useful tool for a story that might span a couple of decades).

 

I was keen to get cracking but no, now I needed to research locations and residences. I took screen shots of street maps. To help me with character definition I also saved images of males and females who looked right for the roles I had in mind for them.

 

Ready to write? No, not quite. I wanted a way of keeping track of this project as it grows. My good friend Excel provided the platform to keep records. I have a workbook with columns for chapter, scene, time and date, setting, action and characters. I have set up hyperlinks from the spreadsheet to the relevant Word Documents where my initial writing sits.

 

You’d think I’d be ready to let the pen fly by now... well, nearly. I doubled the length of the first chapter but changed most of the characters’ names and revised the timeline significantly. Best to do all that before getting in too deep, right? I started a second chapter. It may not end up as chapter two because I haven’t decided the narrative order yet. By the way, I have written so far from a third person point of view. That’s ok isn’t it? It enables me to cover the actions and thoughts of everyone.

 

Last night I began rewriting, this time in the first person, and found that being able to delve deeper into the character of the protagonist was a great improvement. There are obviously constraints, the main character can only relay what he has seen and experienced himself. However there are subtle ways of delivering information that lies outside his knowledge and that can make for interesting dialogue.

 

So, now I am trying to choose between first and third person points of view. To rewrite a large chunk from a different viewpoint would require full scale restructuring so I am halting progress while I decide. When it all gets too much I pull on my shorts and trainers and run. It feels good.

piecing the clues together

 

As something of a jigsaw puzzle fiend I was pleased to find this one by acclaimed Austrian puzzle maker Piatnik in our local thrift store. Usual approach, sift out and start on the edge pieces. That was the only familiar aspect to a challenge that turned out to be the hardest puzzle I’ve come across. What next..? There were no colours to collect, no sky. So I progressed by gathering pieces with vertical lines, those representing the ends of bars. After much effort I had a skeletal framework. So much for the easy part!

 

A click on the Piatnik site revealed this example is sixth on their seven-tier difficulty scale – Extreme - but it isn’t in my nature to be beaten. I dug seriously deep within my limited knowledge of music notation. Easy enough to sort out the alphabetic dynamics but when I ran out of these I hit the slurs and ties (curved lines), rests and clefs etc. Eventually I had to work through the remaining large pile of staves and notes.

 

A few minutes here and there totalling maybe an hour a day and fourteen days later I slipped the final piece into place... well there are four ominous gaps. What can you expect from a cheapie.