How Far The Sun (exerpt)

Narrator and Goat, talking about plot and characters. Just read it.

“C-U-U-U-U-U-U-U-T”

“Excuse me MISTER NARRATOR, SIR.”

Narrator:  Who is yelling at me?

Goat:  Me.

Narrator:  Me, who?

Goat:  Phineas T.  Didn’t just fall off a turnip truck Axelrod, III.

Narrator:  Well, Mr. Phineas T. whatever.  Will you kindly get off the page.  I’m doing some serious writing.

Goat: Well, aren’t you the grand one?  I’ve been watching you go south into a dark hole the last two days and I want you to kindly stop it.

Narrator:  And who made you king of the universe?

Goat:  I am one of your major players, am I not?

Narrator:  You may turn out to be something large in the scheme of things, I haven’t decided yet.

Goat:  Well, according to my contract, I play pivotal roles all throughout this mess until you reach the magic 50,000 word goal.  A pitiful waste of words so far, if you ask me.

Narrator:  Are you British?   It’s your way of phrasing.  Have you ever done any Noel Coward?

Goat:  My father was a free ranger in west Australia.  Me mom’s an émigré from New Zealand.  But she was an extra in Madagascar one and two.  Both have degrees from Goat U.

Narrator:  And how many novels have you written?  Any?

Goat:  It isn’t that I am against novelists, even a middle-aged one who has been dreaming of this day since forever.   No, my cast mates have hired me as their agent.

Narrator:  This is a mutiny!!!

Goat:  Not a mutiny, just a workshop moment.  We like your style, at least until you put Duke Vestige (is that the best name you could come up with?) as your hero.  The ascetic guy was very tiffed at that idea.

Narrator’s son:  WHAT IS THE GOAT DOING HERE? I mean everything is going a very Douglas Adams-ish manner and BAM!! It’s like we’re on Emril and he’s about to add the sauce and BAM!! No offense to you Mr. Goat, but if you were so concerned with the way the story  was going to go, why didn’t you speak up earlier, or not join this project at all?

Goat:  Hey chipster, I detest cooks as much as I detest drab, dark and dreary writing.  Your pop’s gone and made this story a big tangle of strings that are all matted together.  In the interest of my reputation, I am trying to help him back onto the road he began.  So, go find a lollipop and lick it.

Narrator’s son:  FYI Mr. Goat, I for one am not a fan of lollipops, and never plan on being one. I am glad of your concern over pop’s writing, but could you do it in a less harsh manner? (He’s getting kind of emotional).  Just maybe some strong suggestions, not just the outright criticism that you’ve been bringing to the table? Please? Thanks a lot!

Narrator:  Alright, Goat, my son chipster is off to bed.   So, we are going to workshop my story.  You are speaking for everyone.

Goat:  The cast, such as it is, sent me to clear up several items which are bothersome.  Since we are on an extended break, mind if I smoke?

Narrator:  Goats smoke?

Goat:  Not Camels, mind you.  But, yes, I like a nice pull on a pipe now and then.  Helps me think clearly and keeps the flies away.

Narrator:  Just remember to use an ash tray.  I haven’t written one into the story yet.

Goat:   We’ll just tuck the ashes into one of the canisters you used at Springsteen’s concert.

Narrator:  Great.

Goat:   First point, what is your MC’s motivation in this story?

Narrator:  Motivation is coming.  I only have eight pages.

Goat:   We need a pre-story time.  What is the main reason Duke Vestige must resolve the story, how will he be changed.   Need particulars.

Narrator:   I believe that Chris Baty proposed I begin without a plot and that by week three everything will begin to make sense.

Goat:  So, no motivation.  Then this is a travelogue?

Narrator:  No, mainstream fiction.

Goat:  So you say.

Narrator:  Well, I have made you a major player so far.  What is you motivation?

Goat:   Yes. What is my motivation?   I like to eat plants and bite britches.  At some point I will get head butted by Mr. 2-dimensional Duke Vestige.  And I am the comedy relief throughout the story.  My motivation is to make people cringe and laugh.  So, there.

Narrator:  You are my clown?

Goat:  You call yourself a writer?  Most of the greatest literature has a comedic role entwined in it.  Dr. Watson was for Holmes.  Falstaff was for Shakespeare.  M’Lady was for the Three Musketeers, or was that just in the movie script?   Either way.  All good or great literature has to have some levity.

Narrator:  Fine.  I didn’t realize you were such a gifted comedic talent.  Remind me to cancel out Jim Carrey.  

Is that all?

Goat:  Demand number two:  Shorten paragraphs.  Really, Narrator, this isn’t a college term paper.   Shrink down the writing into smaller units.   Break up the narrative with sprightly dialog.  Get your players into the action.

Narrator:  Got it.  Shorten paragraphs and flap some jaws.

Goat:      Are you writing any of this down?

Narrator:  Mind like a steel trap.  Next.

Goat:  We thought since this was a book, that you would need more people.  The green room is cavernous with just the few of us in it.  The aunt and the second cousin have been spending their time doing Sudoku puzzles and are looking to begin playing some bridge.  They need a foursome.

Narrator:  What about the guy in the bowler hat and the other guy with spinning orb?

Goat:  They’re both outside shooting hoops and playing around the world.

Narrator:  There’s the coyote?

Goat:  The coyote is too deranged.  He was bummed that his sense of smell has left him. Also…

Narrator:  What?   Did I do something wrong?

Goat:  Wolf.

Narrator:   What wolf?  I distinctly remember writing in a coyote. 

Goat:  Well, you called him a coyote, then a wolf, then a coyote again.  Did you know there is a difference?

Narrator:   This is the first draft.   I’ll erase the wolf.  Send him on home, in case he thought he would be used again.

Goat:   We also have a lot of very upset and teary-eyed sorority girls on our hands.  Will they be needed?  There are several vampire books holding auditions for Panhellenics.   Also, Duke’s friend is hoping he will be spending more time with the girls.

Narrator:  Hold on to Colt Ferrol.   I think he might come back into the picture.  These two boys on the camping scene could be one or both of the guys as kids. 

Goat:   I don’t want this to be just a doom and gloom report.   The cast says they are enjoying the story and its parts so far.  You have a flair for the absurd.

Narrator:  This from a goat?  Enough said.

Goat:  So, will the aunt and the cousin meet up somewhere sometime?

Narrator:   I have the cousin on a vision quest and he has gobs of money.  Anything can happen.

Goat:   Point number three.  It is three, correct.  I see numbers one and two.  This could be point four.  Is the teleportation thing going to continue?   It seems to me that you are dabbling in several different genres here.  I seem to see mainstream fiction, coming of age, science fiction, satire, even college humor.   Isn’t it better to just choose one and stay away from all the others?

Narrator:   THIS IS THE FIRST DRAFT.  In a week or two I might start writing this story in haiku or Sanskrit.  I could make Duke a member of the troop that rode with Custer at Little Big Horn. I could introduce the aunt and the cousin to elfin folk who fish for a living in the South Pacific during World War II.  I might bring the sorority girls back and make turn this story into a 1960s Doris Day and Rock Hudson spoof over the battle of the sexes.  IT’S ALL JUST A FIRST DRAFT.

Goat:    Right.  Touched a nerve, did I?   Well, that’s alright too.  You have heart and that’s good to know.  You obviously aren’t doing this for the money.

Narrator:  I might be.

Goat:  Oh, well, I just thought you wanted to remain an amateur.  No clearly defined protagonist or antagonist, and all.

Narrator:   I am working on that. 

Goat:   Trying for a surprise entrance?  Maybe the bad guy is really pretending to be a good guy?  So, the chap in the striped suit?  He turns out to be bad?

Narrator:  OK.  I don’t know who my antagonist is going to be.  I have no plot.

There, are you happy now?   I want an antagonist and a protagonist.  I left my triangle in my leather satchel while I was at the bed and breakfast.  Did you see it?

Goat:  No.  Just rhododendrons.

Narrator:  If I was to settle on a framework for this story.  If I could create a realistic picture of this guy’s family life and the event that set him off, then I could make a protagonist to fit the bill.

Goat:  Might I?   Do you mind if?  A suggestion?

Narrator:  Is this a contract demand?  I have a law degree, you know.

Goat:  Well, you are doing so well with the glib attitude and all.  Put more trust on Duke.  He has good old Midwestern attitudes.  His personality is dull, salt of the earth, Boy Scout.   Make him a fish out of water type.  Like a male version of The Devil Wear’s Prada.  His passion might be sports.  It might be that he never got to see his brother Clanton after that campfire.  Maybe the moment that changed Duke’s life forever was seeing something happen to his brother’s friend on that night at Lake Hootchie-Coos.  Maybe it was supposed to be three of them at the Lake that night.  And Duke left the kids alone, thinking nothing bad could possibly happen.  But it did.  It did big time.  And Duke lied his head off to keep out of trouble.   And he got into more trouble.

Narrator:   That could set up the groundwork pretty well.  Then what?

Goat:   Duke turns hostile and hateful.  He begins to blame everything bad that happens to him on his brother or his brother’s friend.  Duke imagines how successful he could be but for the incident.  And Duke keeps on deluding himself.  Meanwhile, Duke’s brother Clanton, becomes a stronger person, a more resilient person because of the incident at the lake.  He had been shy and afraid to challenge himself, but now he has trust in himself.  A faith, a God-granted faith, that he might be a chosen one, an angel on Earth.  It tears him up to see his brother become bitter, but that spurs on Clanton even more.  Only this needs to be written in a breezy style.  No suddenly appearing monstrosities.  No magic potions or flying characters.

Narrator:   You have the beginning of a short story there.  I like it.  Can you keep going?

Goat:  Oh, look at the time?   That was just a suggestion.  I expect to be in the new story arc, of course.  Will our demands be met?

Narrator:  I will take it all under advisement.

Goat:   Then take a break and run in another five or six hundred words, why don’t you?

Narrator:  Thank you for the advice.  Do you want to be my writing buddy?

Goat:  I’d rather eat rhododendron leaves.  Yeck.  Hey, Narrator, in your research did you ever actually eat a rhododendron leaf?  Tasteless as dirt.

Narrator:  I can’t hear you.  I’m on my break.

Reviews

[J]

you have a keen sense of the absurd. truly. ;) silly, flamboyant goat maybe needs to be milked.

enjoyable read!

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

perfect imagery lends hands to the reader while looking thorugh the abstract notion of your minds work, almost sattirical in your delivery, well done, good read.

[K.M. Lucero]

I really enjoyed this piece. I couldn't help but chuckle at the goat laying it on the narrator. Excellent job.

[Becky C Strukamp]

You composed this beautifully. Very understandable and the imagery of what is going on excellent.