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The best parts about writing the Arizona books for me have been when I'm able to bring in a specific part of Arizona culture into the story, especially if it's something unique or close to it. Even better is when that crosses over with my usually-rare writer's block.
When I got up this morning and was walking Tucker (which actually is part of the writing process--it provides physical and mental exercise) I had no idea what I was going to write later. I know what needed to happen--Carlos Alvarez has been having a crisis of conscience about his membership in the Tucson Ring but has been afraid of the consequences of leaving it. But thinking about Tucson and its particular Catholic culture that developed in its Hispanic community over the past two centuries, especially when it comes to ghosts and the dead, gave me my answer--and as a bonus I got to write about an interesting religious and cultural landmark there called El Tiradito, the Wishing Shrine. By the time I sat down at the computer the plan had come together, as Hannibal Smith would say, and I got to enjoy packing a lot of southern Arizona culture into a relatively small scene.
PROGRESS REPORT
New Words: 2100 on chapter 3 ("The Conquerors, 1882") of Copper Heart. Carlos makes a major life-altering decision at the Wishing Shrine upon receiving what he believes must be a sign from the Blessed Virgin.
Total Words: 97500.
Reason For Stopping: Finished the scene, and wanted to head off to my workout.
Book Year: 1882.
Mammalian Assistance: Vegas guarded his box pile and the window.
Exercise: Morning, walked Tucker around the neighborhood. Afternoon, did 2.25 miles on an elliptical and then a half-mile cool down (which would've been longer except I ran out of time) on a treadmill. This wasn't a weightlifting day since I did that yesterday, but I think my arms are already getting used to it--they weren't aching today. Either that or I need to add more weight. I also discovered that "The Klingon Wartet" from the Star Trek - Into Darkness soundtrack is great music to jog by.
Most of the elliptical was done at 5-6.5 mph, but I could almost hear Billy, my original trainer in 2009, constantly spurring me on to do more: "Get that heart rate up to 150." "Let's see if you can add another mile an hour." "Run flat out just for that last tenth of a mile." I did the second one a couple of times, ran flat out up to 12 mph for a bit, and got my heart rate up to a high of 163. I shaved 30 seconds exactly off my one-mile time from last week, though at 10:50 that's still four minutes longer than my personal best from '09. (That took me a few months to get to, though, so I'll try to be only marginally hard on myself.)
Stimulants: Cherry and banana Icee-Pops.
Today's Opening Passage: For the last months of 1881 and the first of ’82, Carlos and Eva had little time to themselves as they helped dozens of other Hispanics find new home on what had been open range in the Apacheria. It was when they were able to finally stop and take a breath on their own new ranch that Carlos started constantly hearing the baby’s cry in the wind. The people of Tucson had once good-naturedly called him Loco Carlos for racing during the Feast of San Agustin where he’d met Eva, but now he feared that he truly was going insane.
Darling Du Jour: My description of El Tiradito...
The next morning they set out for Tucson. Eva brought Agustin and Carlotta along because, as she said, this was a powerful and holy place and they must see it too, all of them see it as a family. They rode up Main Street just south of the corner of Main and Cushing, the barrio, and turned west. When Eva told Carlos to stop the wagon he saw nothing looking particularly significant, much less holy.
“We go there,” Eva said, pointing.
The small adobe wall was featureless except for a niche and a few mounted iron candle racks. But what looked like nothing at first grew details as Carlos walked closer; there were used candles in some of the racks, stones lying about, and a couple of small statues on each side of the niche, plus one inside, all of the Madre de Dios.
“Where are we?” the ever-curious Carlotta asked. Agustin was staring at it too, though without expression.
“El Tiradito,” Eva told them. “The Wishing Shrine.”
“Wishing for what?”
“Wishing for prayers. For intercessors. For good things to come to those who are sick or otherwise in need.” She looked at Carlos. “For those in pain, or who need to make redemption.”
“Why is this here?” Carlos asked.
“It marked the remembrance of a tragedy.”
“What tragedy?”
She shrugged. “Perhaps a man who killed his family. Perhaps a doomed lover’s triangle. There may be a body here on this spot, an unconsecrated grave. There are many stories. But the ending is always the same: with faith all things may be forgiven.”
“I’ve never seen it before,” Carlos confessed.
“I know you hadn’t. But now you have.” Her eyes challenged him to approach it as he must.
Non-Research / Review Books In Progress: None.
When I got up this morning and was walking Tucker (which actually is part of the writing process--it provides physical and mental exercise) I had no idea what I was going to write later. I know what needed to happen--Carlos Alvarez has been having a crisis of conscience about his membership in the Tucson Ring but has been afraid of the consequences of leaving it. But thinking about Tucson and its particular Catholic culture that developed in its Hispanic community over the past two centuries, especially when it comes to ghosts and the dead, gave me my answer--and as a bonus I got to write about an interesting religious and cultural landmark there called El Tiradito, the Wishing Shrine. By the time I sat down at the computer the plan had come together, as Hannibal Smith would say, and I got to enjoy packing a lot of southern Arizona culture into a relatively small scene.
New Words: 2100 on chapter 3 ("The Conquerors, 1882") of Copper Heart. Carlos makes a major life-altering decision at the Wishing Shrine upon receiving what he believes must be a sign from the Blessed Virgin.
Total Words: 97500.
Reason For Stopping: Finished the scene, and wanted to head off to my workout.
Book Year: 1882.
Mammalian Assistance: Vegas guarded his box pile and the window.
Exercise: Morning, walked Tucker around the neighborhood. Afternoon, did 2.25 miles on an elliptical and then a half-mile cool down (which would've been longer except I ran out of time) on a treadmill. This wasn't a weightlifting day since I did that yesterday, but I think my arms are already getting used to it--they weren't aching today. Either that or I need to add more weight. I also discovered that "The Klingon Wartet" from the Star Trek - Into Darkness soundtrack is great music to jog by.
Most of the elliptical was done at 5-6.5 mph, but I could almost hear Billy, my original trainer in 2009, constantly spurring me on to do more: "Get that heart rate up to 150." "Let's see if you can add another mile an hour." "Run flat out just for that last tenth of a mile." I did the second one a couple of times, ran flat out up to 12 mph for a bit, and got my heart rate up to a high of 163. I shaved 30 seconds exactly off my one-mile time from last week, though at 10:50 that's still four minutes longer than my personal best from '09. (That took me a few months to get to, though, so I'll try to be only marginally hard on myself.)
Stimulants: Cherry and banana Icee-Pops.
Today's Opening Passage: For the last months of 1881 and the first of ’82, Carlos and Eva had little time to themselves as they helped dozens of other Hispanics find new home on what had been open range in the Apacheria. It was when they were able to finally stop and take a breath on their own new ranch that Carlos started constantly hearing the baby’s cry in the wind. The people of Tucson had once good-naturedly called him Loco Carlos for racing during the Feast of San Agustin where he’d met Eva, but now he feared that he truly was going insane.
Darling Du Jour: My description of El Tiradito...
The next morning they set out for Tucson. Eva brought Agustin and Carlotta along because, as she said, this was a powerful and holy place and they must see it too, all of them see it as a family. They rode up Main Street just south of the corner of Main and Cushing, the barrio, and turned west. When Eva told Carlos to stop the wagon he saw nothing looking particularly significant, much less holy.
“We go there,” Eva said, pointing.
The small adobe wall was featureless except for a niche and a few mounted iron candle racks. But what looked like nothing at first grew details as Carlos walked closer; there were used candles in some of the racks, stones lying about, and a couple of small statues on each side of the niche, plus one inside, all of the Madre de Dios.
“Where are we?” the ever-curious Carlotta asked. Agustin was staring at it too, though without expression.
“El Tiradito,” Eva told them. “The Wishing Shrine.”
“Wishing for what?”
“Wishing for prayers. For intercessors. For good things to come to those who are sick or otherwise in need.” She looked at Carlos. “For those in pain, or who need to make redemption.”
“Why is this here?” Carlos asked.
“It marked the remembrance of a tragedy.”
“What tragedy?”
She shrugged. “Perhaps a man who killed his family. Perhaps a doomed lover’s triangle. There may be a body here on this spot, an unconsecrated grave. There are many stories. But the ending is always the same: with faith all things may be forgiven.”
“I’ve never seen it before,” Carlos confessed.
“I know you hadn’t. But now you have.” Her eyes challenged him to approach it as he must.
Non-Research / Review Books In Progress: None.
