Saturday, July 25, 2015

ON STARTING THE NOVEL, or Let Your Wolf Howl!


LET YOUR WOLF HOWL!

On Starting the Action Novel

            If you really want to write that novel you’ve been telling everyone...or secretly telling yourself...you could write better than that guy Brandvold or any of those other fast-typing hacks living the high life and getting all the women...or men...it’s time to sit your ass down and start typing.
            Too many writers or would-be writers think too long and hard about how to start. Sometimes they spend years—lives!--not writing but just yacking about what a gem they could produce if they could get a long vacation or if their wives or husbands would leave them. Of course it’s easier to yack about something and hold high opinions about it when you really haven’t done it yourself. For some reason writing seems to attract this kind of scrutiny and verbal bluster more than any other craft I know.
            It’s always the would-be writers who are the real writers’ severest critics.
            How many non-electricians sit around blathering about what a much better job they could do wiring a shopping mall than the real electricians currently mucking around the job site?
            (Yeah, I got baggage.)
            In the overworked parlance of the writing trade, show don’t tell!
            Drop some wood or vacate the privy!
            Sit your ass down and write that gem...
            What I do before writing that first sentence is take a long walk or head off on a bicycle ride and give my imagination “its head,” to use the argot of the Old West, my own arena of choice. I let the horse of my mind find its own way over mountain and plain.
            A long drive works well, too.
            If you want to write, you probably have a good imagination. So let it go. Turn your wolf loose. Let it howl.
            Daydream.

            When I was a kid—and even now, at 52 years of age, I’m just a little embarrassed to say—I’d read a book or a story by Ray Bradbury or Edgar Rice Burroughs or watch a favorite TV show like Star Trek or Gunsmoke or High Chaparral (or like The Rifleman, which is playing now as I knock this out)—and then I’d go out to the grove of trees that separated our yard from the open prairie, and reenact the story. I’d cut loose and gallop my imagined horse or shoot my phaser with all the appropriate sound effects.
            Believe me, before it was time to head inside for my nightly bath, the bad guys would go down ahowlin’!
            And I’d be lucky the neighbors hadn’t had me locked up in the local nuthouse...
            That part is fun. But it has to be focused fun. Close off from your mind all other thought-clutter and worries and remembered petty and/or major slights you endured that day from your kids or dogs or boss or spouse, and really see in your mind the world of the book you want to write. See all the color, hear the sounds, smell the smells. See the characters in details every bit as cinematic as those on the movie or television screen or on those brittle, faded but still crystalline pulp pages bowing your shelves.
            But don’t take all day about it, fer cryin’ in the Queen’s ale!
            You can’t imagine every scene. Just a couple of the main, gnarliest, most high-octane ones will do. Entertain yourself. Make your eyes bulge and your heart skip beats. Laugh out loud! Don’t worry if the neighbors come to suspect you’re demented. I can tell you from my own personal experience that if you’ve gotten this far in this essay, your neighbors (and probably everyone you’ve ever known) already suspect you’re a few shots shy of a full barrel.
            Give yourself an hour or two of focused daydreaming fun, and then get to work. Don’t worry about trying to see all the plot points and twists and turns in the story. Just bring brief but three-dimensional flashes of your book to life in your mind’s eye and then come up with a terrific opening scene that will set up everything and draw your readers into your story.
            The main thing is to imagine the general thrust, a compelling hero, and an equally or even more compelling villain. (The general thrust might even be going too far; mine usually change by the third chapter, anyway.) Just for kicks and giggles, you might want to also conjure a dusky-eyed damsel...or stud...or two. Then quickly imagine an opening scene that will hook the reader and keep them turning the real or virtual pages. Don’t worry too much about the scene that will follow that first scene, because that scene will lead you to the next, and the next scene will lead you to the next, and so on, until your book has taken over your life and your spouse is thinking you’re in dire need of a Carnival cruise or a lobotomy. (Aren't they the same thing?)
            By the time you’ve done that first, fun, hard work—inside of an hour or two, because you’re a doer and not just a talker—you should feel as though you’ve just peed on an electric fence. You should feel your hair spiking and your heart hiccupping and your fingers tingling, and all you can think about is sitting down at your desk or grabbing the laptop and sinking into your favorite chair and letting your wolf howl.


Saturday, June 27, 2015

New Western With New Western Hero Now Available!






WHEN A MAN IS LOCKED IN A BOX
HE HAS NO CHOICE BUT TO BLAST HIS WAY OUT!

Meet Dag Enberg, a brand-new western hero from the pen of Peter Brandvold...

In this violent, sexy tale of bloody redemption, Dag Enberg is a shotgun rider for Arizona’s Yuma Stage Line. A big, rawboned Norwegian, he’s one of the best in the business. But when a group of outlaws led by Cougar Ketchum kidnap Enberg’s pregnant wife and threaten to kill her if Enberg doesn’t turn over a valuable strongbox, Enberg is forced to go against his instincts.

He turns over the strongbox without a fight.

The owner of the strongbox, Logan Cates, believes that Enberg has thrown in with Ketchum. Logan Cates owns the stage line and half the county. He’s a powerful man as well as the stepfather of Enberg’s wife. He also knows that Enberg has many weaknesses, not the least of which is whiskey and women.

When Cates turns his sites on Enberg, a bloody war breaks out...as well as a desperate chase into Mexico for the stolen gold and Enberg’s woman.

A BAD WAY TO DIE

Enberg dropped the table leg. He strode across the room, pushed through the batwings, and stopped on the saloon’s front porch to watch Leclerk kneeling in the street before a woman dressed to the nines in a stylish salmon dress, white shirtwaist, and feathered picture hat. She was taking mincing steps backward, tripping over the hem of her gown as she tried to flee the big man who was clawing at her as though trying to maul her.
She was Constance Norman, wife of one of the county’s wealthiest ranchers.
The panicked, strangling Leclerk was only beseeching the horrified woman for help. Which she, of course, couldn’t offer.
The best sawbones on the frontier couldn’t have fixed Leclerk’s busted windpipe.
The woman screamed again as she tripped over her gown and fell to her butt in the street. Writhing in horror of his fast-approaching demise, Leclerk flopped down on top of her, kicking his legs and arms and raking his fingers across his throat. His grisly strangling sounds rose above the woman’s shrieks.
Leclerk turned over and over as he fought death, his horrifically swelling face growing bright red and then blue until, after nearly a minute of violent convulsing, the woman screaming and trying to kick him away, he finally stopped fighting.
The dark angels of death swept over him.

Leclerk rolled onto his back, legs spread wide. He blinked one last time, gave a final twitch, and lay glaring toward Heaven.

Thursday, May 21, 2015

New Ben Stillman Now Available!


The long-awaited Ben Stillman novel is available at last!

Available as a 3.99 ebook and in hardcover from Five Star Publishing...

When Doctor Clyde Evans is kidnapped from his home in the middle of the night to tend a wounded outlaw, Sheriff Ben Stillman’s problems are only just beginning. Stillman tracks the doctor to a remote cabin deep in the Two Bear Mountains. He springs the doctor, shoots the outlaws, and confiscates the bank loot. 

He also arrests a beautiful young outlaw, Hettie Styles, who promptly puts a bounty on Stillman’s head. Compounding his problems, his old foe Jacob Henry Battles rides into town with a steel hook replacing the arm Stillman shot off years ago before sending Battles to prison. 

Dying from consumption, Battles was recently let out of Deer Lodge Pen. He says he’s in town merely to settle down, but after a shot is fired into Stillman’s house in the middle of the night, the sheriff thinks Battles is out for revenge. Meanwhile, Doc Evans must navigate more personal torments when young Evelyn Vincent, the waitress from Sam Wa’s Café, professes her love for the older sawbones only weeks before Evans is due to be married to the Widow Kemmett! 

From the king of the fast-action, sexy, hard-hitting western novel, this one has it all—love and death, bullets and blood...

PURCHASE FROM AMAZON

Monday, May 11, 2015

Read the Rogue Lawman Screenplay for Free--New Link!


Go on over to SimplyScripts and read my recently penned screenplay adaptation of my first Rogue Lawman novel featuring Gideon Hawk. It's free!

ROGUE LAWMAN AT SIMPLY SCRIPTS

Thursday, April 16, 2015

Legends of the Fall


Jim Harrison is one of my favorite writers and has been since I was a kid. He was one of the writers, including John Steinbeck, Jack London, Flannery O'Connor, and Harry Crews, who made me want to write in the first place. I don't like much of his current stuff, because it seems to be a parody of his earlier, better work, but because of this book and Farmer, the first book of his I ever read, I still mark him as a top favorite. He was one of the few writers I wrote a fan letter to. And got a letter back, which I've posted here before!

My well-worn copy, bought from the B. Dalton Bookseller's in Grand Forks, North Dakota, when I was maybe 15 years old. (1978 or '79) "Suddenly he was terribly lonely for the greenery, the cold lakes and the snow of his childhood." From one of the three novellas in the collection, "The Man Who Gave Up His Name."

As for the movie adapted from the title novella? It's so far from the novella itself, that you can't really even call it an adaptation. But then adapting Harrison's work must be like trying to adapt a poem. He's a very stripped-down, condensed writer. A lot of people like the movie, but whenever I've seen it on and tried to watch it, I couldn't get through more than one or two maudlin, overblown scenes. (I think it's also hard on a movie when the leading man is way more beautiful than any of the actresses in it…)

Thursday, April 2, 2015

NEW .45-CALIBER EBOOK AVAILABLE NOW!


Purchase at AMAZON

Purchase at B&N

A favorite western series of readers world-wide, the Cuno Massey .45-Caliber series continues with:

.45-CALIBER LEFT TO DIE

Cuno Massey is just passing through central New Mexico when he’s ambushed by town tamer, Lawton Briggs and three other men and one pretty but angry young woman, Stacey Ramos. Stacey is owner of the San Juan Valley Stage Line.

The group thinks Cuno Massey is working for the notorious stage robber, Jack Salmon, who killed Stacey’s father. None of the men and Stacey will take no for an answer.

Instead, intending to send Salmon and his gang a clear, brutal message, they strip young Massey naked, lay him out spread-eagle and tied to ground-sunk stakes, and leave him to die.

Cuno is rescue by the beautiful ranch woman, Olivia Taffly, and her son, Hob.

Now Cuno is back on the vengeance trail that takes more than a few bloody, twisting turns until it ends in a smoky hail of flesh-tearing lead!

Western novelist Peter Brandvold has penned over 90 fast-action westerns under his own name and his penname, Frank Leslie.  He is the author of the ever-popular .45-Caliber books featuring Cuno Massey as well as the Lou Prophet and Yakima Henry novels. The Ben Stillman books are a long-running series with previous volumes available as ebooks.  Recently, Brandvold published two horror westerns—Canyon of a Thousand Eyes and Dust of the Damned.  Head honcho at “Mean Pete Publishing,” publisher of lightning-fast western ebooks, he has lived all over the American west but currently lives in western Minnesota with his dog.  Visit his website at www.peterbrandvold.com.  Follow his blog at: www.peterbrandvold.blogspot.com.


Tuesday, March 24, 2015

MR. ANDERSON--A FILM TREATMENT


This is a treatment for a movie I wrote recently. It's the sort of movie Clint Eastwood used to make back in the 70's and 80's, the kind of movie John Milius or another of my favorite screenwriter/directors, Charles B. Pierce, would also make back then--with Arnold Schwarzenegger or Burt Reynolds. It's the kind of movie that could be made today with any number of younger talent, including one of my favorites, Ryan Gosling or, heaven forbid, Brad Pitt!

I thought I'd post it here and see if it catches anyone's eye. I figure it's better than sending it out snail-mail to all the studios…or playing the lottery…. 


MR. ANDERSON—FILM TREATMENT

“His son was all he had
and they framed him for murder.
Big mistake...”

By Peter Brandvold


That’s the name of a website that distributes free amateur porn on the Internet.  Anyone can play. 

This is the story of a beautiful young college woman who gets involved with this site and about her young college boyfriend who becomes blamed for her murder.  It’s set in an affluent small city with a prestigious university boasting a Big Ten football team nestled in the eastern Rockies north of Denver, Colorado.  I’m thinking Boulder--Jonbenet Ramsay country--but let’s call it Mount Evans. 

That stately, snow-mantled peak watches over this picturesque city along the Big Thompson River.

The young woman, Blaire Reynolds, is found dead in her condo overlooking the river.  Beaten to death.  The last one seen with the girl at a college hangout where both appeared drunk and were arguing is Danny Anderson, a star Grizzlies linebacker. 

Danny’s a big, good-looking kid from a farm in North Dakota, affable in a toothy Midwestern way but whose on-and-off relationship with the capricious Blaire has caused him to drink too much and get into fights, which is very uncharacteristic of this kid who everyone endearingly calls “Plowboy.”

And now Blaire’s dead--both eyes swollen shut, dislocated jaw, severe trauma to the brain--and the cops find Danny passed out in his frat with a bloody towel on the floor, his bloody shoes on the floor, even blood under Danny’s fingernails.  His knuckles are scraped and swollen, as though he punched a door and maybe a face.

His blood alcohol level is over the top.

The cops discover that Danny’s towel and shoes are covered with Blaire’s blood.  And since he was the last one seen with her, and they were arguing, and he was seen punching the door of her car as she was leaving the Blue Boar and trying to get away from him…

Danny goes to jail.

His father, Dave Anderson, from Limon, North Dakota--a farm-tough, no-nonsense, square-jawed guy--mid-30’s to late-40’s--drives out to Mount Evans to find out what has gone so very wrong in Danny’s life.  Wearing his traditional soiled feed cap, Dave pulls into this politically liberal, moneyed town in his muddy Ford F250 truck with a Winchester racked in his back window, and his scruffy blue heeler, Hank, sitting the passenger seat like a “Montana date.” 

Dave doesn’t believe that his son could have killed this girl.  But after talking to the cops and his son’s friends, and the people who were in the bar that night, he begins to believe it’s true. 

He doesn’t have money for a lawyer.  Danny was attending the U on a full football scholarship.  The bank is about to foreclose on Dave’s farm.  His beloved wife and Danny’s mother, Denise, died last year when a bridge went out on their county road, and Dave blames himself because when he drove out looking for her, when she hadn’t shown up at the bowling alley she worked part-time at, he drove his car into the same wash in which Denise lay dying, landing atop her car and, possibly--though he doesn’t know for certain--killing her.

Blaire Reynolds was a California girl.  Her father is a wealthy film producer, her mother a socialite.  Her parents drive out to Mount Evans to make sure the district attorney punishes Danny to the nth letter of the law and then some.  CNN gets wind of this high-profile murder in the same town in which Jonbenet died and Robert Redford’s daughter’s boyfriend was also killed, where Mork and Mindy was set…this beautiful, troubled place…and it becomes a big media event.    

Anderson Cooper is here.  Bill Maher.  Oprah--“how do we protect our young women when we send them off to college with thugs?” 

The president of the college, Don Christopher, is interviewed over and over.  We see him and his smiling, well-groomed wife, Georgia, on one show after another assuring everyone that “Plowboy” will be severely punished, that his university does not condone violence against women. 

The court appoints an attorney for Danny. 

He and his dad are in a tight spot, but Danny insists he’s innocent though he hasn’t a inkling about who could have killed Blaire.  He and Blaire had been fighting because she kept wanting to breakup and get back together, and she’d been taking more and more pills and seeing other guys, and it was driving him nuts.  He went to her apartment that night to make amends, and that’s when he found her.  He panicked.  He ran… 

Dave believes Danny because he wants to believe him…he’s his only son, for chrissakes, and Danny wouldn’t do this…and Dave sets out to find out what really happened that night. 

He tries to talk to President Christopher, see if he can’t get help with an attorney, but he’s escorted from the campus by the campus police.  It’s not politically correct to be seen with Farmer Dave, as the media dubs this cap-wearing, rifle-wielding yahoo, and President Christopher might run for the state senate next year.

What Dave does manage to find out in his fumbling, amateurish fashion, with the scruffy Hank at his side (the unheeled heeler offends the sensibilities of the town’s rich yuppies and wealthy hippies here to attend a prominent Buddhist academy) and his beatup pickup always in the background of this “green” little city, is that Blaire and two other young women had a scheme going where they taped movies of themselves fucking their teachers.

If the teachers didn’t cough up a few thousand dollars, or good grades, the movies would hit the website PORNAGE.  Dave runs down one of the teachers, but not before the man falls to his death in a rock-climbing accident. 

The other two girls gave up the scheme, because they’d both been threatened by the men they’d tried to blackmail, but Blaire had discovered she had a flare for this sort of work, and became addicted to the adrenaline rush of the danger…and kept pulling these stunts until she decided to set her sites on the biggest game of all--President Don Christopher himself.

Dave learns this from one of the other two blackmailers--Tiffany Thomas.  Tiffany is scared because someone’s been following her lately, so Dave has a rough time pulling the information out of her, and just before she’s about to hand over a flash drive that she insists will clear Danny’s name, she dies in a kayaking accident on the Big Thompson.

When Dave is on his way to visit the other girl, Angie Mason, who lives in a sprawling Spanish-style casa in the mountains above town, his old truck gets a bad case of low brake-fluid, and he puts the F250 in the river.  He saves his dog, however.  And his rifle.

Time to go huntin’…    

He kills the two men who’d been tailing him to make sure his brakes failed, and then he climbs the mountain to see Angie Mason.  Angie reluctantly shows Dave how the blackmailing scheme went down right there in her own house.  Angie’s parents were always running off to Tibet to study with their Buddhist monk gurus, so she pretty much had the house to herself.  She shows how the hidden cameras worked, and then how the taped “sessions” showed up on the website.  Dave is shocked to see his own son there, with Blaire.  As if making love isn’t real enough, exciting enough unless it’s made public, for all to see... 

Angie confessed to Dave that she has a copy of the flash drive--Tiffany copied it because she knew she was being watched.  Angie slips it into her computer…and Dave sees Blaire and President Christopher…and President Christopher’s wife, the well-bred Georgia, in compromising positions while moaning and groaning with this beautiful young woman.

The windows of Angie’s grand house shatter in a hail of machine-gun fire.  Dave and Angie escape through an old mine shaft on the property, and climb down a dangerous rock wall.  Dave with Hank and Angie’s help kill the gunmen after a long, hard battle--the would-be assassins are three campus cops who Dave had seen around the college--and he and Angie reach town just in time to sit in on Anderson Cooper’s on-campus taping of his interview with the President and Mrs. Christopher. 

Dave tries to break in and tell the true story, but he is wrestled down by other campus cops and hauled off to jail.  Angie slips away.  Meanwhile, Anderson Cooper’s taping is interrupted by one of his producers alerting him to a video now being shown all over the Net--a tape showing the Christophers and Blaire on a giant bed in a large room appointed in the Spanish style, the wind rustling gauzy red drapes over the windows.

…And then a couple of campus cops beating the screaming Blaire to death in her dorm room before slipping out a window.

In real-time, we see the Christophers being hauled kicking and screaming off to jail while Blaire’s moneyed parents watch, shocked and horrified. 


Dave and Angie sit in the raucous stadium bleachers with Hank, cheering for Danny as “Plowboy” makes a fabulous, touchdown-saving tackle.