Jan 24, 2008

Young Corey dreams of wookies and spaceships

[NOTE] This is also my Open Book Toronto entry, but I'm so proud of the damn thing, I thought I'd reprint it here in its entirety.

I thought I’d make a little detour through time today, and revisit myself *ahem* 27 years or so ago.

Recently, I had the pleasure of speaking to a grade 4 class on the publishing process. During my talk, I mentioned that the students should save everything they write, as they will want to revisit their past efforts at some point. While I said this, I thought back to my own magnum opus of my youth, a sequel to George Lucas’ The Empire Strikes Back. I thought the story was lost to the packing boxes and dumpsters of time.

Go forward 4 months, and my mother unearths the very story, complete with barely-competent illustrations and scratch-and-sniff stickers adorning the cover (The pickle still smells!).

I’ve gone through the pages, and while I can say that my overall style has improved, my handwriting certainly has not.

Other observations:

a) My eleven-year-old self has a problem with ‘i before e.’
b) It’s spelled “Tatooine,” not “Tatoonie.”
c) My spellcheck recognizes “Chewbacca” but not “Lando.”
d) The dialogue, while rough and frankly awful, is comparable to 21st century Lucas dialogue.

And so, without further ado, and with all mistakes and errors transcribed verbatim, I present part one of Corey Redekop’s fan fiction extraordinaire:

The Jedi’s Revenge

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, a great adventure took place. Commander Luke Skywalker, with the help pf his friends, had just succeeded in escaping the notorious Darth Vader and his stormtroopers. But Han Solo, captain of the Millennium Falcon, has been captured by Boba Fett, the infamous bounty hunter, who is going to give him to Jabba the Hut. Luke is at the Rebel base on Yavin. He is about to leave to look for Han with Lando Calrissian and Chewbacca the Wookie, when Princess Leia Organa stops them.

“Luke, you can’t do this!” she cried. “This is a suicide mission!”

“Yes, you certainly can’t!” said a voice behind Luke. It was C-3PO, a tall robot which was Luke’s companion. “You can’t and R2-D2 agrees with me!” R2-D2 was a small robot that talked in beeps and whistles.

“I’m sorry, but it’s got to be done,” Luke said while getting into his ship. “If I don’t go, Han will be disinigrated, and we can’t let that happen.”

“Aroghf,” growled Chewbacca.

“O.K. Chewy,” said Lando. “We’re going.

They boarded the Millennium Falcon, said good-bye, and started the thrusters. The Falcon sputtered, coughed, and then blasted off. When the Falcon was just a twinkling light in the sky, Leia whispered to C-3PO:

“I just hope they’ll be all right.”

*

Yoda and Ben Kenobi were meditating when Yoda whisphered:

“I feel…feel something is happening to poor Luke.”

“I feel it too, master,” replied Ben. “He is in grave danger. He is going to rescue his friend. We must help him.”

“No!” Yoda screamed. “We must let him chose his own destiny. He can chose to become a Jedi, or become a servant of evil. You should have never brought him here. You should have not told him about the Force and Darth Vader. We must not interfere.” Ben was silent. Finally he said aloud:

“I must go help him! He might be killed!”

“If you go, I go! I must not lose you to the evil side of the Force as I lost Darth Vader!” Yoda stated. “I will go get our lightsabers and then we’ll go!”

*

The Falcon cruised quietly with Chewbacca at the controls. Lando and Luke were pacing the floor. Finally Lando said:

“This is ridiculus! We left two hours ago and we still haven’t done anything to save Han!”

“Aroghrf!” yelled Chewbacca. “Arroghf!”

Luke walked over to Chewbacca. “What is it, Chewy? he asked.

“There’s a Star Destroyer behind us! yelled Lando. “Chewy, put up the deflector sheilds! Luke, you control the guns! Let’s get out of here!”

*

A large, ominious shape was on the Star Destroyer. He watched the Falcon with bemused intrest and then walked to the command centre.

“I told you not to follow them too fast! Now they’ve put their deflector sheilds!” It was Darth Vader. Lord of the Empire. His black cape flowed as the shaking Admiral walked up.

“I thought surprise would be wiser,” he said. “How was I to…to…Arrgh!” Vader’s hand closed around the Admiral’s neck and choked him.

“Captain Ozzel,” he said “you’re in command now. I want no further mistakes!”

*

“There,” said Yoda. “We’re all packed.”

“But how will we get there?” Ben asked. He had not learned how to travel by the force.

“Concentrate on Luke and you will follow him,” replied Yoda. So they concentrated and then in a flash of light more brighter then the sun they were gone. They were on their way!”

*

A small ship sped through the galaxy toward the distant planet Tatoonie. It was the Slave One, ship of the infamous bounty hunter Boba Fett. In his hold was Han Solo, captain of the Millennium Falcon.

“You can’t get away with this, you know!” Solo said through the bars of his cage. But Fett only laughed and said,

“We’ll see about that!”

“I’ll get out of this before we get near Tatoonie!” snarled Han.

Boba Fett laughed again and said, “It’s a little late for that now! We’re here,” he said as the Slave One entered Tatoonies atmosphere.

*

Brrzaap! The Falcon’s left deflector shield fell off!

“When can we jump into hyperspace?” yelled Luke. “We can’t take this much longer!”

“Don’t worry,” Lando replied. “We’ll jump any minute. But where shall we look for Han? We have no idea where he is.”

Luke replied “Well, I think they would go to Tatoonie. Jabba the Hut was last seen there.”

“So that’s where we’ll go!” announced Lando. “Chewy, set course for the Tatoonie system!”

*

Yoda and Ben landed on a nearby asteroid.

“I don’t understand it!” muttered Yoda. “We were following them and then they dissapearred!”

“My master,” said Ben. “Perhaps I can assist. Jabba The Hut was last seen on Tatoonie.”

“Good!” replied Yoda. “Let’s go!” So they concentrated and in a blinding flash more brighter than the sun they were gone.

*

Back on Yavin, Leia was pacing the floor in anguish. Finnally she said:

“I don’t like it, 3PO! I can feel that Luke is in danger.”

“Your highness,” said C-3PO, “if your that worried why don’t you go after him. It’s much better then doing nothing!”

“Bleep va doop re Bop!” said R2-D2 in agreement.

“Okay, you guys. You talked me into it. Let’s go,” said Leia werily as she turned toward her private ship. R2 beeped in excitement and immedietly followed her and 3PO.

*

Darth Vader walked to the control centre in crest-fallen anguish.

“It doesn’t make sense, my lord!” said an officer. “We just can’t pick them up on our scopes!”

darth Vader looked out of the window. “The Tatoonie system…” he muttered. “Officer, head for the Tatoonie system!”

“But, My lord…” the officer stuttered…

“No Buts!” said Vader. “Head for the Tatoonie system! Skywalker is there!”

*

The Millenium Falcon landed quietly in Mos Eisely. Luke and Lando changed so they would fit into the crowd. Luke wore red clothes with a long blue cape and Lando changed into a white suit with no sleeves and no pantlegs. Then they all split up Luke was in a bar when he saw a familiar shape go into a laboratory.

“Han!” he shouted, and tore off after him. He ran into the laboratory, which was pitch black. Suddenly the lights went on., blinding him for a second. Then he felt a sharp pain on his shoulder. He spun around, only to be punched in the chin and tossed into a computer. His attacker jumped on him and put his hands around Lukes throat. For long, terrible seconds Luke struggled with his assaliant. Then Luke tossed him into the wall. He got up and gave the man a left hook, which knocked him head over heals over a table, and crashing into several beakers and chemicals. Luke jumped over the table and picked up the man by the lapels of his jacket.

“Who are you, and who sent you?” he demanded. The man only snarled and replied:

“You’ll never get anything out of me!” Luke dropped and turned to leave, when Lando and Chewbacca came bursting into the room.

“Luke!” Lando exclaimed. “Are you all right?”

“Oh, yeah, everythings fine,” Luke joked werily.

“Who’s that?” Lando asked, pointing at the man.

“Who, him?” Luke replied. “He’s a bully. I can’t get anything out of him!”

“Well, let’s go,” said Lando. “It’ll be safer if we stick together!”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Can your heart stand the excitement? Who is this mysterious “bully?” How did Yoda suddenly get the power to teleport? Will anyone get disinigrated?

Stay tuned, fearless readers…

Jan 15, 2008

Open Book entries just keep on rollin' on...

The next taste of brilliance is up at Open Book Toronto:

So, you’ve written a book. Bravo. You’ve gotten a publisher. Double bravo. Think you’re done? Not even close.

It’s time for Marketing 101; Putting Your Pretty Face Out There.

Yes, many authors seek the literary life because they enjoy the solitude. I could not tell you the statistics on how many authors are natural extroverts, but I’m betting it’s a low percentage. We have rich inner lives. It’s just you, the paper and ink, and whatever gossamer you can spin from the ether. We don’t aspire to the spotlight for ourselves; we want the work to speak for itself.
Read the rest of the entry here.

Jan 13, 2008

Open Book Toronto entry, Jan 12, 2008

The next sterling submission to the Open Book Toronto project is now up!

When I was young and marginally more stupid than I am now – ah, those heady days of youth, how fleeting they seem now to this aged mind! – I took a one-day course in skydiving. Well, parachuting, really, as you have to work your way up to skydiving freefall. Signing up, I had visions of every WWII movie I’ve ever seen; a lineup of eager recruits by the gaping door of a transit plane, each jumping out headlong into the endless abyss. Wheee!

The truth, unsurprisingly, was more mundane, and far more terrifying. Myself and two companions were walked through the basics of elementary parachute jumping, including (and this was quite a surprise to me) that one does not simply cannonball out an open door, but must instead walk out under the wing(!) and stand on the wheel, wait for the count by the instructor (who is holding the ripcord himself), and then let go, arch the back, count to five, and look over the shoulder to make sure the ‘chute has opened correctly.

Read the rest of the entry here.

Jan 10, 2008

Open Book Toronto entry for January 9, 2008

My newest blog enty at Open Book Toronto is now up:

Ok, you’ve been writing for hours. Your carpal is flaming, your fingers are numb, and you can’t stare at the screen without screaming. Time for a break. Time for a movie.

A movie about writing, of course. Can’t stray too far off topic here.

As much as I love the art and craft of writing, both as practitioner and audience, I’ll be the first to admit that writing is not the most…uh…visually dynamic of arts. Think about it: painters can spread their works across endless easels and wallspaces; sculptors take chisel, hammer, and blowtorch to inanimate objects; dancers warp their spines in pursuit of truth in body modification; and actors bellow to the back row. But writing, from an audience perspective, always comes down to a solitary figure hunched over a writing implement of some sort, huddled and lonely in the pursuit of translating a thought into symbols.
Read the rest of the entry here.

Jan 5, 2008

Quickie Book Reviews

I thought I’d do a few quick reviews, instead of my trademark long, rambling, and ultimately pointless ones.

Brown Girl in the Ring
by Nalo Hopkinson


This Canadian sci-f/fantasy novel (one of the 2007 Canada Reads selections) is a sterling example of peerless imagination. Hopkinson interweaves futuristic elements such as high-tech human organ transplants and the devolution of society with Caribbean mysticism and magic realism, resulting in a highly original product. Reminiscent of the work of late sci-fi master Octavia Butler (herself a fan of the novel), Brown Girl in the Ring is unique, personal, and provocative; everything good sci-fi/fantasy should be.

Rating: A-

Big Man Coming Down the Road
by Brad Smith


Smith’s past works such as All Hat have marked him as a talented practitioner of ‘country noir’, a genre pretty much dominated by Joe R. Lansdale. Certainly, his first few novels marked him as an Elmore Leonard-esque crime writer with a humourous bent. Yet Big Man jettisons the crime elements of past efforts, and concentrates on character. All well and good, and Smith’s characters are strong and memorable. But Big Man’s plot is too slight, too meaningless. The characters are good, but their tribulations are merely mildly entertaining. Without a stronger narrative drive, Smith seems to lose focus, and the by-the-numbers plot does his ear for dialogue a true disservice.

Rating: C+

Open Book entry for January 4, 2007

My latest post at Open Book Toronto is now up:

I’d like to speak from my soapbox, if I may, on one of the most important tools in the first-time writer’s arsenal: luck.

Yes, talent, ambition, and perseverance still play a major part, don’t get me wrong. Yet – and let’s be honest here – how many of us have read a successful published novel by a name author and said afterward, “Someone published this?”

Read the rest of the entry here.

Jan 2, 2008

Book Review - The Toothpick by Henry Petroski

The Toothpick: Technology and Culture
by Henry Petroski
Alfred A. Knopf, 443 pages, $35.95

“The close study of anything as both an object and as an idea is potentially intellectually rewarding and revealing about the technology and culture in which it is embedded.” So says Henry Petroski, and he knows whereof he speaks.

Petroski, a professor of history at Duke University and the Aleksander S. Vesic Professor of Civil Engineering, has made quite a side career for himself as a popularizer of what many would regard as ‘the mundane.’ In previous books outlining the history of the pencil, the bookshelf, and multiple other devices that most people never give a second thought to, Petroski has sought to reveal the “hidden and frequently overlooked relationships among the people and things of the world.”

Thus, for his fourteenth book, Petroski undertakes a meticulously researched assessment of one of the simplest manufactured artifacts in existence. The Toothpick: Technology and Culture places the examined object within the context of the evolution of civilization, with always-intriguing results.

The toothpick, as a device, has existed in one form or another since mankind’s first meal. A simple apparatus has long been sought as a tasteful alternative to our body’s natural pick; “whenever we proceed to drag the tongue across and thrust it between our teeth at a repast’s tenacious residue, we reveal our mission by the bulge moving around our lips and cheeks like a mole beneath the lawn.”

As Petroski notes, there is no one single starting point for such a tool. Examining the fossil record of our ancestors, grooves in skeletal teeth reveal that twigs, rocks, and grass are the historical antecedents to the now-ubiquitous smooth wooden utensil we are familiar with.

The modern pick, in its mass-produced form, is typically attributed to Charles Forster, an American businessman “who recognized the potential for ultimately large profits in small, trivial things such as toothpicks sold by and for the millions.” As Petroski digs deeper, we see that by following the progression of the toothpick, with its cultural nuances and technological advancements, we are following the development of civilization.

All this would be for naught if Petroski treated his subject with the dry reverence of a scholarly treatise. Luckily, like contemporaries such as Mark Kurlansky (Cod) and Simon Winchester (The Professor and the Madman), Petroski has the narrative skills to match his mania for research. While Petroski does not brandish the storytelling prowess of his peers, his passion and fascination more than make up for a unexceptional and slightly unwieldy framework.

Adding spice is the bizarre arcana that crops up surrounding “the oldest habit,” ranging from George Washington’s rules of civility, “the one hundredth maxim of which cautioned against using a knife or fork to remove stuck food,” to the ancient Chinese and Romans, who carried toothpicks as a vital part of their daily jewelry.

The famed Bowie knife is sometimes known, depending on the area, as the Arkansas, Louisiana, or Texas Toothpick. Poetry has been written as to its uses and flaws, and the number of people who have perished from toothpick-related mishaps (including, possibly, U.S. President Warren G. Harding) is surprisingly high.

“People are by nature adaptive, creative, and inventive, capable of taking anything far beyond its stated and intended purpose…Given a lever, they will move the earth. Given a toothpick, they will turn it into a universal tool.” Henry Petroski believes this, and The Toothpick is proof positive that not only can the toothpick be a tool with many uses, it can also be the source of a marvelous book.

Originally published in the Winnipeg Free Press, December 30, 2007.
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