![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
This is from redhotjazz.com which has what must be the world's most extensive discography of any genre, and history all over the place too:
"The Texas Blue Destroyers, who were only trumpet player Bubber Miley and organist Alvin Ray, pulled some kind of con job back in 1924, and managed to record the same two songs for three different companies within a week or two of each other. This is a pretty sparse-sounding, unusual group of recordings, but Miley is playing well and the reed organ wheezing away adds a demented "Phantom of the Opera" feel to the songs."
Isn't that like something you'd read as a tossed-off comment in some American imitator of Terry Pratchett?
I'm a lazy girl and I have decided that I am leaving the chapter for now. I got it up to the climactic moment, but there's something raw feeling about it and there are other changes I want to make to the chapter -- mostly to make things more pointed, more in line with what I imagined.
I have this problem -- I'm not just a lazy girl, I'm a wuss, and I don't write the horrors of war unless I make myself feel really guilty about not doing it. But it is kind of stupid to write a book that's all about the aftermath of war and not have some grit, some stench, some noise, and some fear in it. So I've resolved to ratchet it up a little. Starting in this, the third vignette, and when I revise.
I'm working on the third vignette now. It's getting away from me -- I'm having to rein in a digression about the uses of the word "peace" and the code words that different factions use to indicate what they're really talking about when they say it. The vignette's supposed to be simple, and just show That Building, the Sisters, the good bureaucrat as a young teenager, and the mother of the man without a country at that same time, as a pregnant young teenager -- I would like it to be evident, though not explicit, that she is the child from the second vignette who didn't know where she came from ("some place with a tree in it" -- the whole region being dotted with pastoral place names). But there's so many bouncing balls that it's not simple.
A couple-few more paragraphs on the vignette, and then I'll clear out for the day
"The Texas Blue Destroyers, who were only trumpet player Bubber Miley and organist Alvin Ray, pulled some kind of con job back in 1924, and managed to record the same two songs for three different companies within a week or two of each other. This is a pretty sparse-sounding, unusual group of recordings, but Miley is playing well and the reed organ wheezing away adds a demented "Phantom of the Opera" feel to the songs."
Isn't that like something you'd read as a tossed-off comment in some American imitator of Terry Pratchett?
I'm a lazy girl and I have decided that I am leaving the chapter for now. I got it up to the climactic moment, but there's something raw feeling about it and there are other changes I want to make to the chapter -- mostly to make things more pointed, more in line with what I imagined.
I have this problem -- I'm not just a lazy girl, I'm a wuss, and I don't write the horrors of war unless I make myself feel really guilty about not doing it. But it is kind of stupid to write a book that's all about the aftermath of war and not have some grit, some stench, some noise, and some fear in it. So I've resolved to ratchet it up a little. Starting in this, the third vignette, and when I revise.
I'm working on the third vignette now. It's getting away from me -- I'm having to rein in a digression about the uses of the word "peace" and the code words that different factions use to indicate what they're really talking about when they say it. The vignette's supposed to be simple, and just show That Building, the Sisters, the good bureaucrat as a young teenager, and the mother of the man without a country at that same time, as a pregnant young teenager -- I would like it to be evident, though not explicit, that she is the child from the second vignette who didn't know where she came from ("some place with a tree in it" -- the whole region being dotted with pastoral place names). But there's so many bouncing balls that it's not simple.
A couple-few more paragraphs on the vignette, and then I'll clear out for the day
Tags: