THINGS TO WORK ON

"Bear, Paul said there are some issues and things to be worked on in future drafts.  Note he has pluralized the word, draft, which is somewhat disturbing to me.  I thought draft 2 would do it and hope he's not thinking 3 or 4 or 8 more," said Bum, looking somewhat downhearted.

"Don't think the worst, Bum.  He was probably just saying, you know like an old gangster."

"I hope you are right, Bear.  He said the fantasy premise needs to be clarified.  The title is My Imaginary Dog, but Bear seems real enough:  he has a real master who pays Janey, our heroine, real money;  he goes to a real vet and interacts with real people there;  he is fed real leftovers.   In the story as now written, the main point about Bear is not that he is imaginary, but that he talks--but only to Janey.  He's like Francis the Talking Mule.  The rules of this fantasy world need to be made clear--always a key task when writing fantasy."

Bear sat silent, giving her that look he gives her when he is annoyed and thinking of something to say.

Before Bear could speak, Bum jumped in.  "Remember I told you that Paul has only read draft 1 and before you go off half-cocked again about Francis the Talking Mule, I already told you I fixed that problem in draft 2.  Also, with my sister's help, I clarified the fantasy part by relating it to Alice down the rabbit hole, and I further clarified the talking part by again relating it to Alice in Wonderland and how she first meets the talking white rabbit.  Everyone got it and I think they'll get ours."

"OK," said Bear, "at least we've got all that straight, and to Paul's satisfaction, I hope.  I only have one question before we move on to Paul's next point, is that word half-cocked a disparaging sexual term or does it have something to do with a gun?"

Bum sighed and said, "Half-cocked means you are not ready to shoot your load, but you might.  Take it how you like."

"OK," said Bear.  "What's the next point?"

"Paul asks who is the audience for this story?" said Bum.  "Right now it's too salty for kids, but it might be perceived as too twee for adults.  Deciding who is the ideal reader might help to focus the story more."

"I think dog lovers will love our story, Bum," said Bear.  "Of course it is too salty for kids if Paul's thinking children who can hardly read or have a book read to them at bedtime.  That's a no go.  Older kids like teens, who are very likely dog lovers, might find it amusing.  They might even find it funny about two old people falling in love, who knows.  He said it may be too twee for adults but I don't know what he means by that."

"I too was confused by that term so I googled it and found out it means affectedly or excessively dainty, delicate, cute, or quaint, even corny was mentioned.  The same meaning in Hindi but one word stuck out, niminy piminy."

"Well, Bum, I think he's got that wrong.  I think adults, with any brains or senses of humour, will enjoy our story.  We live, we laugh, we fight, we love, what more can an adult want out of life.  He's wrong, and I stand by that."

"I agree, Bear, let's move on to his next point."

"The characters should be clarified and differentiated, so that they become more distinct."

"What's he been drinking?" said Bear in bewilderment.  "We, you and I, are clarified and differentiated.  I'm a dog and you're a person.  Maybe he's talking about your boyfriend.  Ask him for clarification.""

"First, Bear, let me make it clear that Paul is not a drinker, so far as I know.  I probably drink more than he does, especially now that I have that pinched nerve and useless medical attention."

"Are you a problem drinker now, Bum?" asked Bear.

"No," said Bum, " and as I told you before on one of our walks, I have no problem if I get my drinks every night.  Now, let's move on to the next point."

"OK," said Bear.  "Hit me with it, I'm ready."

"Paul said the story needs structure.  We have a story, but not really a plot, that is, a story whose elements are all connected by cause and effect.  This should happen naturally as the story gains more of a sense of purpose, what it's trying to say.  It should really have a clearly thought-out act structure."

"So, Bum, what do you know about story structure?" asked Bear.

"I read somewhere, Bear, that structure is to story what the skeleton is to the human body."

"That's clear enough, Bum, but what about his comment that we need a clearly thought-out act structure?"

"Paul gave me a book sometime ago, which I did read.  I remember it said Act 1 should introduce your main characters and establish the setting.  We've done that.  Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, I think we got that right, Paul will be pleased to know.  We met each other on one of your walks after you retired.  You described yourself and did those quirky things you do while walking and I appeared as Artos who lives with his master where Strathcona Road starts its climb, and you met my master and we were off, walking and talking as we traversed the hilly streets near your home and mine, and we settled down at the blue church up on Dollar Road which is on the way to Deep Cove village.  Our setting was established, as we were." said Bear quite pompously."

"This next point is the one I particularly like," said Bum.

"What's that?" asked Bear.

"Paul said there are some confusing shifts of viewpoint, as during the telling of Janey's romance-novel ideas.  It's not clear here whose story this is or exactly how it relates to the main story."

Bear thought about this statement for a bit and then said, "He's probably never read a Harlequin, has he?"

"It seems unlikely, Bear, unless there was one written Before Christ."

"Harlequins are fantasies, Bum, and perhaps Paul doesn't appreciate that fact, or maybe he's not romantic.  As I told you before when you thought you should perhaps drop the Harlequins out of our book, why should you discard a dream you had to write one.  Hold on to your dreams, Bum, they are not that common."

"This is true, Bear, and that is why I left them in the book.  It gave me great pleasure to do so."

"You said, Bum, that Paul uses his Facebook site to analyze books he has read.  Have you read some of his posts to ensure he's a good analyst of books?"

"As a matter of fact, Bear, I checked that out the other day and found one of his posts comparing A Man called Ome by a Swedish writer, Fredrik Backman. published in 2012, to a book called Wilheim Meister's Apprenticeship by a German writer, published in 1795-96.  Paul said that despite their seemingly great differences, there are commonalities between these books.  Ove is a grumpy 59 year old and the other is a young man with a romantic, philosophical nature and a passion for theatre.  The books, in very different ways, are comedies, at least in the most basic sense of having (mostly) happy endings.  .Oddly enough, Bear, I enjoyed reading his post on this book comparison."

"What was the name of the German writer, Bum, you didn't mention it." 

"It was that Gerta guy," said Bum.!!

"Gerta guy!! "  Bear exploded with disbelief   "I simply cannot believe this of you, Bum.  You dishonour Johann Wolfgang von Goethe by using that term."

"Calm down, Bear.  I'm sure I've said worse, but I apologize because you, and Mr. von Goethe if he heard it, found it so upsetting."

 "I'm sorry too, Bum.  I may have overreacted.  My master's wife had a run-in last week with my master.  He is a great fan of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and he wife persisted in going on an on and on that she cannot understand why he, or indeed anyone, would read that crap .  She went too far, I thought, but you know she is an idiot about intellectuals and literature, as I told you before.  Remember when she dismissed Malcolm Lowry's great masterpiece, Under the Volcano, because in her opinion who would want to read about a drunken sot, or words to that effect.  My master though, had the last word, although it probably went over her head.  He quoted the great Goethe's line, --There is nothing more frightful than IGNORANCE in action.".

"That is such a great quote, Bear.  I'll never be able to come up with something that good," said Bum despondently.

""You have time, Bum.  You're not dead yet.  Let's move on to the rest of Paul's Things to Work On.  I have to get home soon."

"He said the episodes of Janey's life away from Bear sometimes feel disconnected and out of place.  In order to earn their keep, they need to be related to the main story."

"Leave that for him to fix in the edit, Bum.  I don't know what he's talking about.  I don't see you in your real world.  What's next?"

"Paul said these characters like swapping stories, which is fun, but there can be a sense of aimlessness to it.  It would be best if all the stories, as Steve Martin tells John Candy in Planes, Trains and Automobiles, had a point.  This can be done by finding ways to connect them with the main story."

"He keeps going on about the main story but seems to have missed the point that we are the story.  We walk and we talk and we share our lives with each other.  Is there a point?  I don't know.  I just know I love hearing your stories that happened in your life, sort of like your memoir.  I hope you feel the same about mine.  That's all I've got to say about that.  What's next?"

"Paul said the story could use more description to anchor it in the world and give it a sense of place.  Dialogue is the important thing in it, but some description will help make it more vivid to the reader's mind.  Deep Cover is an unique and atmospheric place; readers will appreciate being brought there in their imaginations."

"There's plenty about Deep Cover in our book, Bum.  We use Strathcona Road where we both live, the blue church which was a landmark before they tore it down, the Village which we can approach along Dollar Road or cut through near the school and down those long steps which end about a block and a half from the Village.  And, pardon my French, that bullshit about readers will appreciate being brought here in their imaginations, they are already here.  There's so many tourists here they had to put a sign up saying that buses need a permit to enter.  Also, they've had to limit the number of people allowed to climb that special trail.  Give me a break, I say," said Bear.

"I agree, Bear, and, as a precocious small relative of mine said years ago when he had an incident at his pre-school because he didn't want to eat there,  people should stay home.  My sister agrees as she is sick of  all the people in the Village now that we cannot enjoy our old ways now of walks to get an ice cream cone on a sunny day, or anything, because it is teeming with people, and there is no parking to get some Honey's donuts.  It's a mess."

"I blame the influx of tourists to our Village on that actress who was visiting here a few years ago,"  said Bear.  "I believe she was staying in a house to the right of your house up our Strathcona Road hill.  Anyway, she walked over to Honey's one day and got herself a donut, probably one of those chocolate-covered ones you like.  Her accolades about the place went online, because of her fame I guess, and our Village became a destination spot for tourists."

 "My sister considered this information about Deep Cove  and came to the conclusion that our story could be set anywhere.  You and I live in Deep Cove but we could take our lives elsewhere and it could still work, according to her."

"She is absolutely right, Bum, as usual," said Bear.

"Yes," said Bum succinctly, getting back to her beloved word.

"So, Bum, what location do you think would work for our story.?"

"We could try Moose Jaw," said Bum.

"Where the hell is Moose Jaw?" asked Bear, in that puzzled way he uses.

"Exactly my point." said Bum with a bit of a smirk.

 "So, Bum, you've been to Moose Jaw?" asked Bear.

 "Yes, only once, and once was enough.  My sister and I were on one of our road trips across Canada to visit our relatives in Orillia, Ontario.  We pulled in to a handy cafe just off the Trans-Canada Highway to eat something before proceeding on our way, hoping to get out of Saskatchewan that day.  And, there it was, Moose Jaw, just the outskirts I believe.  I promised myself and my sister, who agreed, that I would never stop in Moose Jaw again.  I can still smell tumeric in my imagination.  It inundated the food, even the dessert, and I cannot tolerate that spice to this day."  Bum frowned in memory.

"I think we should stick with Deep Cove as our locale, Bum."

"Me too, Bear.   At least it doesn't stink," said Bum.  ."Let's walk."




.  
 






 







  









 

  


    





















  . 









   

 ,





















 










,




      







. .