Buscar este blog

6.30.2010

The Mood of my Novel

I wanted the mood of my novel to be fun but I have been drifting away from the shores of humor, and my efforts to take my ship back have failed.

The funniest thing I wrote was when I first drafted the plot, but when I started plotting more seriously all the fun vanished. I got really serious!

I don't want cheap humor either--I don't need to elaborate, everybody knows what cheap humor is, isn't it?

Of course, not everybody will agree on what is funny and what is cheap humor, but at least I know when I read something funny. There are things that make me laugh--although not everybody likes the jokes I like.

I used to have a girlfriend who did not like my jokes. Each time I thought I was being funny I could see her squirming, reddening and smoking--just like boiling. She got really mad, and started throwing things. This was especially true when I joked about her, though. Now I think it was funny but I did not think so at the time she was throwing things at me.

Maybe I just need to read funny things, and get in the laughing mood. I think now of George Orwell's Animal Farm, one of the funniest and more intelligent books I've read. Another one is García Márquez's Cien años de soledad (A Hundred Years of Solitude). I once read a short novel written by Voltaire but I can't remember the name--can anyone enlighten me? Rabelais and his giants is also nice and worth mentioning.

I also remember Milan Kundera's The Joke--which is not always fun--, and I remember an essay of Kundera where he recommended Lawrence Sterne's Tristram Shandy. Adolfo Bioy Casares' stories are also fun (A Russian Doll, for example).

I especially liked Vargas Llosa's La tía Julia y el escribidor.

I remember playing Molière's L'avare and Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme; and also Beaumarchais's Le mariage de Figaro. We had lots of fun.

And what about the funniest and most intelligent novel of all times? Yes, Cervantes's Don Quijote is definitely humorous, and many other things. I would like to read this novels and plays again but with a critical question in mind: what makes funny things so funny?

Can anyone of my readers recommend funny and intelligent literature?

Usame's Archipelago, Novel Setting

Monteleone says the setting is like words: one of the most important things in a novel.

So, for my novel, I am thinking about a setting--this is just a rough draft:

Usame's Archipelago is unique: some islands lay north of the Tropic of Cancer, like Usame, and hence, have a temperate climate where coffee trees can not be grown.

On the other hand, many islands lay south of the Tropic of Cancer, and therefore, coffee trees, sugar cane, and other tropical crops can be grown.

Usame is the richest and largest island, so the rest of the archipelago depends economically on Usame. They also have the strongest army, so no one wants to play with Usame.

If coffee is forbidden, many islands won't be able to survive because their whole island is planted with coffee trees: it is not easy to plant something else when your trees are old, and especially when you do not know how to plant anything else.

6.25.2010

Mark Wakely's Novel Blog

This is a link I save for further reference.

http://writinganovel.blogspot.com/

Mark Wakely says about his blog:

"Thoughts about writing a novel from someone who's written three, had one published by a traditional publisher. Tips, techniques & theories. Not a publishing industry watchdog blog, but an introspective look at what it takes to sit down and create a manuscript a publisher might actually want to buy. No hard and fast rules, no "definitive" right ways and wrong ways, just a collection of loosely connected entries about what worked for me- and what failed miserably. Join the fun."

Sounds just like something a writer without experience like me might want to read.

I just bought Wakely's novel An Audience for Einstein on Amazon Kindle--which I highly recommend. The beginning is good. Reading his blog about how he wrote the novel, and reading the novel itself will be most instructive.

How coffee got to Usame

The old tell this legend to the young around the fire.

This was many, many years ago, centuries ago.

The gods stirred the air and the sea. There was a violent storm. People at the island thought it was the end of the world. But from evil, good came: there was a shipwreck and three survivors. Three bearded men, three kukulcans, three quetzalcoatls, three kundalinis who brought civilization, tools, weapons, a different spirituality and coffee.

Coffee is the same color tan Usameans: therefore they call themselves “the people of coffee”.

The castaways became political, spiritual and cultural leaders. They always looked towards the west, looking for ships that would rescue them. At the end, they built a ship, and sailed away westward with some natives, promising to come back one day.

Español

Historia del arribo del café, perdida entre la historia y el mito

Los ancianos cuentan esta historia a los jóvenes sentados alrededor del fuego.

Los dioses provocaron una tormenta y arrojaron a tres extranjeros a las costas de la isla.

Fue hace mucho, hace años y siglos.

Hombres barbados que naufragaron, verdaderos quetzalcoatls, kukulkanes, serpientes emplumadas, kundalinis que trajeron civilización, utensilios, herramientas, armas, una espiritualidad diferente y el café. Todo esto se rescató de la nave naufragada.

El café es del mismo color que los usameos: de ahí en adelante son los “hombres de café”.

Los náufragos se convirtieron en líderes políticos, espirituales y culturales. Siempre miraban hacia el oeste, buscando signos de navíos que los pudieran rescatar. Al final, construyeron un barco y con algunos nativos emprendieron el viaje hacia el oeste, jurando regresar.

6.22.2010

Before the Beginning

Before coffee can be forbidden, banned and criminalized, there are things that have to happen.

There was an earthquake, and one of Usame’s volcanoes had an ash eruption.
Everybody was scared. Many thought the gods’ were angry.

A shaman found an explanation while meditating: coffee is an addiction which undermines people’s health. This addiction caused the gods’ wrath, and therefore the earthquake and the volcano ash.

A sly leader takes advantage of the situation: Arbusht’o forbids, bans and criminalizes coffee trading and consumption. He gives a coup d’état. He asks for special powers to handle the crisis, and for money to train more soldiers and make more weapons.

6.20.2010

La nueva ley (va de nuez)

I rewrote the beginning of my novel—The Islands—to follow closely the original plot. I still have to work on style, humor—there is none--, characters, and maybe I will rewrite this chapter later as the novel progresses. For now it is ok.

Changes: the council elders are not landowners. They do not plant coffee. Coffee is planted in Xicome, a smaller island, which trades its coffee for Usamean products. There is interdependence between both islands, based most of all on coffee, and the prohibition will disrupt the relationship.

Arbusht’o gives a longer speech, starting by the dream he had about the gods ordering him to stop trading and drinking coffee.

The elders are more restless at the words of Arbusht’o, and also more critical, but Arbusht’o uses both sly persuasion and latent threats.

Arbusht’o sees the need to increase the weaponry, and “asks” the elders for a contribution.

Papa’o is a rich merchant who opposes Arbusht’o but for now he will have to cooperate.

Sorry, this chapter is in Spanish.


La nueva ley (capítulo vuelto a escribir)

Arbusht'o entró al consejo con escoltas armados con lanzas y cuchillos. No era la costumbre. Muchos de los ancianos del consejo vieron la entrada del líder con suspicacia y temor. Unos ni cuenta se dieron: dormían y roncaban. Otros no veían nada porque tenían cataratas o estaban totalmente ciegos. Todos tenían tazas de café y el olor llenaba la casa de los consejos.

Cuatro sirvientes instalaron una enorme silla y Arbusht'o se sentó. Tampoco era la costumbre: los jefes militares, llamados mamames, solían sentarse en el suelo con los ancianos. Se escucharon murmullos, pero Arbusht'o los acalló con la mirada. Se aclaró la garganta, se puso de pie, miró enhiesto a los que todavía hablaban, esperó a que el silencio reinara en la sala de los consejos y tomó la palabra:

“Tuve un sueño, un sueño inspirado por los dioses, un sueño que sólo los mamames podemos tener. Vi a la juventud enloquecida, cansada, iracunda destrozando todo a su paso. Vi muerte, enfermedad y desolación. Vi a Usame en fuego, las familias deshechas, la sociedad enferma. En medio de la tormenta, la enorme figura del dios del viento apareció rodeada de relámpagos. Me incliné ante su presencia todo penetrante y pregunté con humildad: ‘O, gran dios, ¿qué hemos hecho? ¿Por qué tanta destrucción, tanto mal? ¿Qué podemos hacer para impedir la ruina de nuestra patria?’”
Arbusht’o interrumpió su discurso para mirar alrededor y ver si los ancianos lo seguían. A parte de uno que roncaba plácidamente y los sordos a los que se les tenía que repetir gritando las palabras del general, la mayoría estaban atentos. Los vecinos codearon al dormilón quien despertó sobresaltado.

Arbusht’o continuó:

“El dios del viento me miró desde lo alto y dijo: ‘Usame está enferma porque tiene un vicio. Muy pronto la juventud enloquecerá, las familias se separarán y la sociedad se destruirá. El mal es un veneno que todos en Usame aman y creen inocuo; se reúnen para consumir este veneno y lo ofrecen a los dioses. No se dan cuenta de lo que están haciendo. Quizás ya es demasiado tarde y no se pueda hacer nada. Por mucho tiempo, este veneno ha estado presente, corrompiendo, enfermando y todos lo ven como algo normal. Si no puedes erradicar este veneno, los dioses tendremos que destruir Usame. Los dioses no pueden seguir esperando’.”

Arbusht’o volvió a interrumpir su discurso. Esperó a que todos los sordos hubieran escuchado. Uno de ellos, al comprender al fin, preguntó sobresaltado: “¿Veneno? ¿Cuál veneno?” Se llevó su taza de café a la boca, picado y esperando la respuesta.
Los demás ancianos también querían conocer el desenlace: por más que repasaban en sus cabezas no podían imaginar a qué veneno se refería Arbusht’o. Comenzaron todos a preguntar: “¿Veneno? ¿Cuál veneno?”

“Danos la respuesta, pidieron preocupados, ¿cuál es ese veneno que los dioses quieren extirpar?”

Arbusht’o tomó la taza de café de un anciano y dijo con voz apesadumbrada: “Un veneno que todos amamos, que hemos consumido toda la vida, que creíamos de origen divino, que hemos ofrecido a los dioses; un veneno que nos levanta al amanecer, nos reúne a mediodía y tomamos antes de irnos a acostar. Ese veneno es la bebida nacional de Usame: el café.”

Todos se quedaron mudos, hasta los sordos, que comprendieron todo cuando Arbusht’o derramó el café sobre el suelo de tierra. Después del silencio y la sorpresa, prosiguió:

“Yo también me quedé atónito cuando el dios me comunicó la verdad. Hice muchas preguntas, pedí clemencia, pero el dios había dicho su palabra y las palabras de los dioses no se cuestionan. Mi pregunta ante el consejo es la siguiente: ¿Voy a desobedecer un sueño inspirado, un sueño premonitorio, un sueño divino, un sueño aleccionador? Señores, el mal tiene que ser desterrado hoy mismo. Los dioses han hablado, nos han advertido y seríamos necios si no hiciéramos caso. El café debe ser prohibido. Pero soy respetuoso de lo que decida el consejo. No quiero que mi poder sobre el ejército y la fidelidad de mis soldados influyan en su decisión. Ustedes tienen la última palabra.” Terminó mirando fría y calculadoramente a cada uno de los ancianos, y al mismo tiempo sonreía con una sonrisa fija. Se sentó y espero la reacción del consejo.

Papa’o, uno de los ancianos más fuertes y vigorosos, conocido por haber sido un soldado valiente y ahora uno de los comerciantes más ricos pidió la palabra.
"No dudo de las señales de los dioses, dijo, pero tenemos que decidir como hombres. El café es la bebida del archipiélago. Todos aquí consumimos café, nos reunimos alrededor del café. Esa prohibición sólo va a traer el mal a nuestra isla y a nuestros vecinos. Hay islas en los alrededores que viven de la cosecha del café, ¿qué van a hacer si lo prohibimos? Nos vamos a enfrentar a una rebelión dentro y fuera de la isla, la gente no lo va a tomar de buen modo. Antes de decidir si el sueño de nuestro mamame debe ser tomado como advertencia o sólo como consejo, antes de llegar a una conclusión, debemos analizar detenidamente todas las posibilidades.”


Arbusht’o no se inmutó. Estaba preparado para todas las críticas.

“No se trata de una idea humana sino divina. Yo no inventé nada, sólo les estoy comunicando las palabras de los dioses. Yo, como ustedes, siempre he amado el café. Siempre lo he considerado una bebida divina. Pero las órdenes de los dioses no se discuten. Los dioses dijeron más: ‘El café, dijeron, es la peor bebida. El café causa problemas de digestión, quita el sueño, pervierte a la juventud, desune a las familias y destruye la sociedad. No hay peor veneno que el café. Usame va a recuperar su juventud, su salud, su sueño cuando el café sea desterrado’.”

6.17.2010

About Usame, and why coffee is not planted there

Coffee is not planted in Usame because the forest is sacred, and thick. Trees can not be cut, and so there would be no room for crops. Usameans are very ecological.

There are plenty of animals, precious stones, minerals, clay, and Usameans are very industrious: they manufacture all kinds of clothes, weapons, figurines, metal appliances, bricks, clay pottery, etc. They build stone and brick houses, temples and pyramids. Wood is only used for boats, canoes and roof tops.

They eat meat, fish, sea-food, coconuts, and fruit from their own island. Vegetables, cereals, coffee, sugar cane and cotton are grown in the surrounding islands. Usameans trade all the staples against their manufactured products.

Usameans were already a civilized nation when they conquered Usame. They used to be farmers in their original island--which is now one of their farming colonies--but they adopted the myths of the previous inhabitants, which encourage to preserve the forest as a sacred being.

Usame is a very large island. The surrounding islands are quite smaller.

6.16.2010

Rewriting and changing

I have been rewriting the beginning of my novel—The Islands—to follow closely the original plot. I still have to work on style, humor—there is none--, characters, and maybe I will rewrite this chapter later—as the novel progresses. For now it is ok.

Changes: the council elders are not landowners. They do not plant coffee. Coffee is planted in Xicome, a smaller island, which trades its coffee for Usamean products. There is interdependence between both islands, based most of all on coffee, and the prohibition will disrupt the relationship (this is very important for the development of the novel's plot).

Arbusht’o, the military leader of Usame, gives a longer speech, starting by the dream he had about the gods ordering him to stop trading and drinking coffee.

The elders get restless at the words of Arbusht’o, and are also critical, but Arbusht’o uses both sly persuasion and latent threats. Arbusht’o sees the need to increase the weaponry--there could be a rebellion--, and “asks” the elders for a contribution.

Papa’o is a rich merchant who opposes the ideas of Arbusht’o. Papa'o knows that a prohibition on coffee will bring more evil than good, but for now he will have to cooperate, the leader is too strong and his reasoning is irrefutable.

Of course, the elders vote for prohibiting coffee: production, trading and consumption. Anyone overlooking the forbiddance will be banned to the atolls.

At the end of the chapter, soldiers walk the council elders to their houses, with the excuse of providing them with security.

6.15.2010

How to cope with changes in the plot?

When I first outlined the plot of my novel, I wrote:

"Usame needs the cheap labor that comes with Xicomean illegal immigrants, and some of Xicome's crops—like coffee and sugar--, and Xicome needs the products made in Usame. There is an interdependence, although Usame tends to underestimate this intertwined relationship."

But in the last 2 posts, I wrote a different story, where the Usame's council was made up of old landowners who planted coffee.

I will have to rewrite the beginning of the story to follow my original plot.

What do experienced writers do in this case? Do they go on writing what comes up naturally or do they rewrite to follow again the course of the original plot?

If anyone knows, please tell me.

6.14.2010

Posts in Spanish

For my three readers who do not read Spanish:

The last two posts were written in Spanish because they represent the beginning of the novel, which will be written in my native language. A lot of difference: it is easier, and I make less mistakes. My style in Spanish still needs to be worked upon but it is nothing compared to my English. It would be fun to write something in English, but for the moment, only this blog--most of it--will be in this language which is not mine but I love--and is the international language, by the way.

Nevertheless, I can summarize whatever I write in Spanish.

Summary of the beginning of my novel:
Arbusht'o forbids coffee in Usame. End of summary.

Well, there is more than just that: an introduction to Usame, its archipelago, its government, its main leader--Arbusht'o.

La nueva ley

Arbusht'o entró al consejo con seis escoltas armados con lanzas y cuchillos. No era la costumbre. Los ancianos del consejo vieron la entrada del líder con suspicacia. Todos tenían tazas de café y el olor llenaba la casa de los consejos.

Cuatro sirvientes instalaron una enorme silla y Arbusht'o se sentó. Tampoco era la costumbre: los mamames solían sentarse en el suelo con los ancianos. Se escucharon murmullos, pero Arbusht'o los acalló con la mirada.

"El café, dijo sin preámbulos, es la peor bebida. El café causa problemas de digestión, quita el sueño y pervierte a la juventud. No hay peor veneno que el café y por lo tanto, a partir de hoy lo declaro prohibido. Los campos de café serán quemados y aquel que sea sorprendido plantando café, vendiéndolo o bebiéndolo será encarcelado y desterrado a los atolones."

Nada de esto era parte de la costumbre. Las sesiones del consejo eran para discutir largamente cada tema, ver los pros y los contras, ofrecer las resoluciones a los dioses y después, mucho después, llegar a conclusiones. Por lo general, no se cambiaba nada, a los ancianos no les gustaba cambiar nada, a menos que hubiera una circunstancia de emergencia.

Y ahora, el mamame, el jefe militar, el temido colonizador de todas las islas de la periferia, llegaba con soldados y ordenaba. Nada de esto era la costumbre y a los ancianos no les gustaba. Ellos le habían dado todo el poder del ejército y ellos podían quitárselo. Pero nadie se atrevía ahora a cuestionar su poder.

Los ancianos se miraron atónitos: todos eran lugartenientes y todos plantaban café. Varios se llevaron su taza de café a los labios, sin entender muy bien las palabras del mamame. Otros empezaron a murmurar, mirando de reojo al mamame, sus escoltas y sus tazas.

El café era la bebida nacional, la que los despertaba en la mañana, la que los reunía a mediodía, la que prolongaba la sobremesa después de comer. Era la bebida divina, la que se ofrecía a los dioses, la que se tomaba en los consejos, la que permitía invocar a los dioses toda la noche en los días festivos.

Arbusht'o hizo una señal a sus escoltas y éstos se acercaron a cada uno de los ancianos. Tomaron una a una las tazas y las fueron vaciando sobre el suelo de tierra. Los ancianos miraban asustados.

Lleno de un sentimiento de injusticia Papa’o, uno de los ancianos más valientes, se paró al centro de la casa de los consejos:

"El café, dijo, es la bebida del archipiélago, el grano que mantiene nuestra economía, la bebida ofrecida a los dioses. Todos aquí plantamos café, consumimos café, nos reunimos alrededor del café. Esa prohibición es ridícula y sólo va a traer el mal a nuestra isla."

Algunos se atrevieron a asentir, pero la mayoría estaba muda.

Arbusht'o lo miró fríamente. Era el jefe de esa isla y de todas las islas y atolones circundantes. No había guerrero más poderoso, no había líder más carismático, no había nadie más temido y respetado. Todos los soldados lo obedecían y su palabra era la ley. No se iba a enfadar con un anciano respondón.

“No tengo la obligación de responder ni de dar explicaciones. Tuve un sueño, un sueño inspirado por los dioses, un sueño que sólo los mamames podemos tener. Vi a la juventud enloquecida, cansada, iracunda destrozando todo a su paso. Vi muerte, enfermedad y desolación. La causa: el café. ¿Voy a desobedecer un sueño inspirado, un sueño premonitorio, un sueño divino, un sueño aleccionador? Señores, les voy a pedir que vayan a sus casas y que incendien ustedes mismos sus plantíos. El mal tiene que ser desterrado hoy mismo. Los emisarios están listos para dar la buena nueva al archipiélago entero. Todo mundo deberá observar la nueva ley a partir de hoy.”

Se levantó y salió de la casa de los consejos acompañado de sus escoltas, sus sirvientes y su trono.

Los ancianos se quedaron mirando unos a otros, pero enseguida empezaron a salir, dirigiéndose a sus campos.

El archipiélago de Usame

En medio del océano, aparece un archipiélago. Una isla domina en tamaño: Usame. Muchas islas de menor tamaño y varios atolones rodean Usame: el archipiélago de Usame.

Como si la geografía determinara la política, Usame reina suprema, en todos sentidos, sobre las islas circundantes. Cualquier cosa que se decide en Usame debe y tiene que llevarse a cabo en las demás islas, sea o no capricho.

De esto se trata esta historia.

Una mañana fresca (porque había llovido durante la noche), el mamame de Usame, el controvertido y temido Arbusht’o, se levantó inspirado.

Muchas ideas habían poblado esos momentos entre el sueño y el despertar.

Se levantó temprano, se abrigó, salió de su casa de madera que daba directo sobre la playa, pasó junto a sus escoltas que dormían al lado de sus lanzas.

El sol aún no salía, pero empezaba a clarear. Se escuchaban ya algunas aves tempraneras y se olía el café que preparaban las abuelas madrugadoras.

El café había sido la bebida nacional de Usame desde aquel tiempo lejano en que náufragos árabes trajeron las primeras semillas. La historia era tan antigua que se confundía con la leyenda. Aquellos náufragos eran adorados como dioses que bajaron del cielo y trajeron la bebida divina.

Arbusht’o prendió una fogata, molió y tostó unos granos de café, hirvió agua y le añadió los granos recién tostados. Disfrutó muchísimo esa primera taza del día que lo ayudaba siempre a terminar de despertar. Salía el sol y el piar de los pájaros era casi ensordecedor. Toda la isla olía a café.

Arbusht’o, el único mamame de Usame, se dijo que era la última vez que tomaba café fuera de su casa, era la última vez que toda la isla olía a café: había decidido prohibir el café.

6.13.2010

Would you like to live in Mexico?

Maybe I have been too harsh on my country.

Yes, Mexico is full of corruption from the top--our President--to the bottom--the lowest grade police officer standing at the corner. Drug kingpins have taken the country under control, and there is a war with thousands of dead--some say 16,000 or more in the last 3 years.

Nevertheless, I still live in Mexico and will live in Mexico for the rest of my life--maybe. Why? Is it because I am a masochist?

Mexico is still a great, beautiful country, full of nice people. Our neighborhood is peaceful, the weather is usualy mild, there are lots of jobs--not very well paid, though--and most of our family and friends live here. Most of all, this is our country, where we were born, where we speak our language, and therefore we know how to talk to our people, and how to socialize. I am not sure that I would be able to find a job or make friends in another country because I don't know the cultural ways.

Drug kingpins are the new lords of Mexico. Fortunately enough, we only see them in the news.

6.11.2010

Uffff!

South Africa 1 - Mexico 1

Mexico almost lost the first game against South Africa.

Who had the brilliant idea of placing Oscar "the Rabbit" Pérez as a goal-keeper? Of course, Javier "the Vasco" Aguirre, the trainer. Pérez is old and short. The ball passed him over several times. If Mexico had had a taller goal-keeper, there wouldn't have been that South-African goal (which was great, by the way).

The defensive line was Mexico's most obvious issue, something that the French and Uruguayans--our next rivals--must have noticed, of course. The Mexican team is sometimes too innocent: they are too offensive but they are always beaten by surprise.

The other big issue is the problems Mexicans have to score. They had several opportunities but could not strike.

Our next games will be more difficult. We will need a lot of luck.

6.10.2010

South Africa 2010 Football Soccer World Cup

A little more than 12 hours...
South Africa plays against my country.

Will we win--against all odds?
Wil we tie--with some luck?
Will we be beaten--which is the most likely?

Thousands of Mexicans (and other nationalities) are awaiting the first kick-off.

Between 9:30 and 11:30 am, streets, banks, super markets, stores, buses, taxis, and so on, will be empty.

Mexicans will be gathering at restaurants, and coffee shops. Many will watch the game at the office, the workplace, the school, and many will make up some excuse to stay at home.

Doctors will report strange symptoms in healthy people. The economy will stop, factories will not produce anything, parcels won't be delivered, whole office buildings will close.

There will be people depressed (or ecstatic). Some will get drunk (whatever the result),

What is the sociological reason of all this? Is it normal that a whole country should stop all its activity to watch a game? Is there something sacred about it? Are the players modern time heroes upon whom the hope of a whole country rests? What will happen if we lose? Or if we win?

Drug Lords are Taking Over Mexico

The picture shows road blockages performed in the Mexican city of Monterrey, yesterday, Wednesday June 9. The Zetas' cartel is presumed to be behind these actions.

The Reforma article shown at the end of this post says that a drug cartel took possession of an important Mexican oil well, and kidnapped some of the workers. The army has not been able to take the well back. For years, organized crime has been stealing and selling oil to oil companies in the area.

This article (shown below) does not mention anything about other ways in which drug cartels have been taking control of Mexico, but other sources tell the story.

For example, Proceso Magazine No.1750 (May 16, 2010), based on reports by the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA), mentions that cartels like the Zetas have gained a firm hold on state and municipal police corps in at least 20 Mexican States. They even treat police officers as their own employees.

These cartels have become diversified, and very well organized, big “companies” not only involved in drug trafficking and smuggling but also in kidnapping, extortion—at all levels—, politics, and of course money laundering. Nowadays it is impossible to know if the new big casino or the new huge hotel in your neighborhood was built with money which comes from drug trafficking. How many politicians currently in office used dirty money in their campaigns?

La Jornada published today (June 10, 2010) an article that says the following:
“As an answer to the apprehension of Héctor Raúl Luna—nicknamed El Tori, and presumed cartel leader of the Zetas in Mexico`s Nuevo Leon State—, armed men blocked at least 28 main roads with urban buses, truck-trailers and private vehicles. Reports on the blockages started at 5 pm; these damaged the traffic in the following municipalities: Monterrey, Guadalupe, San Nicolás de los Garza and Escobedo. The road blockages were implemented at the same time that thousands of workers were commuting back home. There were no reports about neither injured nor apprehended people.”

http://www.jornada.unam.mx/2010/06/10/index.php

Can there be a better example of how much drug cartels and organized crime have taken over Mexico?

And now, Reforma´s article (sorry, it is in Spanish, I will try to translate it later).

Reforma

Toma narco pozo en Burgos

• En la Cuenca de Burgos, desde hace años, el crimen organizado roba y revende a empresas gasolineras del área.

REFORMA / Redacción

Ciudad de México (10 junio 2010).-De acuerdo con la Constitución, el petróleo es de los mexicanos, pero la realidad es que, desde hace semanas, está quedando en manos del crimen organizado.

Desde el 23 de mayo, uno de los pozos de la Cuenca de Burgos, el Gigante Uno, en Nueva Ciudad Guerrero, Tamaulipas, se encuentra bajo el control de un comando armado.

Aunque en Pemex se negaron a dar información, se sabe que esos pozos y estaciones de recolección son los más productivos de la zona.

En esas instalaciones se genera gas líquido no asociado que, desde hace años, el crimen organizado roba y revende a empresas gasolineras del área.

Los delincuentes se apoderaron del Gigante Uno, ubicado por la carretera Ribereña, en los límites de Nueva Ciudad Guerrero y Nuevo Laredo, luego que cinco empleados de Pemex fueron secuestrados, denunciaron familiares de las víctimas.

Ni el Ejército ha podido entrar, señalaron.

Incluso aseguran que directivos y jefes de personal se resistían a creerles a sus trabajadores que no podían laborar en el pozo, por lo que fueron en un helicóptero militar, pero no pudieron descender a las instalaciones porque estaban tomadas.

Sobre los secuestrados, sus familiares señalaron que aún no han sido liberados porque Pemex se ha negado a pagarles a los captores.

"A las familias no les han pedido rescate, pero aquí se sabe que a la empresa (Pemex) sí. Les pidieron una cuota para dejarlos trabajar, pero la empresa no quiso negociar", explicó uno de los informantes.

Los petroleros plagiados son sindicalizados de planta al servicio de Pemex-Reynosa y se llaman Saúl García, Anselmo Teodosio Sánchez, Christopher Adán Cadena, Mario Zúñiga y Martín Franco

El Lazca in Proceso



Proceso Magazine No.1750, May 16, 2010.

Article: Desde las entrañas del Ejército... (From the Inside of the Army...)

Author: Ricardo Ravelo

El Lazca is one of Mexico's bloodiest and most powerful drug kingpins, main leader of "Los Zetas" cartel.

"El Lazca" is the nickname of Heriberto Lazcano, an ex military who joined the paramilitary squad "Los Zetas" (the Zs), which was created to protect, and kill the enemies of Osiel Cárdenas, a powerful drug kingpin, nicknamed "El Mata Amigos"--the Friend Killer. (It is creepy to look at his eyes on the following pictures, isn't it?)



Osiel Cárdenas--a former federal police member-- was the leader of powerful "el cártel del Golfo" (the Gulf Cartel) but he was captured in 2003, and then the Zetas, under Lazca's leadership, became not only a paramilitary squad but a real well organized cartel--with its own accountants and business administrators--that currently control drug traffic in 25 Mexican States, and state and municipal police corps in 20 States. Lazca is well known for his liking of violence, betrayal, torture, and discipline. According to the DEA, many Zetas are enrolled from the Mexican army.


In 2007, the Zetas broke up with the Gulf Cartel. This has led to clashes between the two rival cartels, and many murders. Then they made alliances with other cartels: the Beltran Leyva's, Tijuana's and Juarez's.


According to protected witnesses, Lazca lives in Pachuca, in the State of Hidalgo, not far from a military base, which is said to protect him.

6.09.2010

Derecho de réplica

This book by Carlos Ahumada is a guide to bidding and winning... with a lot of corruption involved.


Buisnessman Ahumada seems quite innocent repeating once and once again: "Yes, I gave them a lot of money but I wasn't asking for anything back. I just wanted to be taken into consideration in the next bidding."

A lot of corruption at all levels in the PRD, the left-wing party governing Mexico City since 1997. Carlos Ahumada gave tons of pesos in cash to people like René Bejarano, Carlos Ímaz, Ramón Sosamontes, Rosario Robles, and many more.


Leftist corruption, as well as there is right-wing corruption and center-wing corruption. Nothing new under the sun.

Many things about the businessman are not revealed in his book, the most obvious being: how could he become a wealthy businessman having been a poor boy? How could he gather millions of pesos in such a short period?

I still have to contrast this testimony with Raúl Monge's El tango de Ahumada (Grijalbo, 2004).

By the way, there are very good interviews by Carmen Aristegui in YouTube where Raúl Monge and José Antonio Crespo reveal more about Carlos Ahumada, the videoscandals, and the politics involved:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y5AaNuoK0NI

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uCl2YdUYv8A

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NR0e33G3dzg&feature=related

6.07.2010

La reina del sur

The Queen of the South is a novel on the life of imaginary cartel leader Teresa Mendoza, la Mexicana.


Pérez-Reverte is a famous Spanish novel writer.

The reading is riveting from the very start: a cell phone that her kingpin lover gave her is ringing. Her lover had told her that when that cell phone would ring he would be dead and she would have to run as fast as she could.

Then, the action is delayed, and the author is interviewing Teresa...

I just read the beginning. The rest must be good, good, good!

The Islands, the Beginning, Novel

It all starts when Pej'o and Fox'o are young witch apprentices. They are friends and share a lot, even though we see that different personalities are developping that will eventually lead them to become enemies.

How did coffee reach the islands? With trade. So the islands are not far away from Indonesia, they are not as underdevelopped as I first imagined, there is money, trade, different social classes.

Pej'o, novel character, notes

She is a white witch, with great intelligence and wisdom.
She wants to ban dark witchery, and is categorical: there will be no exceptions. Some of her habits are so demanding that they become ridiculous.
She tends to be mislead by people she trusts.
She is too much critical and a perfectionist.
People who love her would give their lives for her, and people who hate her would like to see her dead. She is always dividing people into opposing groups.
She has many enemies.

Monteleone's Guide Chapter 6: the Plot III

June 7, 2010

Monteleone says: "Complication is what makes conflict really interesting. It's not enough for your plot to merely state a problem and have your character fix it. No, no. Things have to get complicated."

Pej'o vs society
Fox'o vs Pej'o
Fox'o vs Fox'o (inner struggle)
Pej'o vs Pej'o (inner struggle)
Fox'o vs drug kingpins
Drug kingpins vs drug kingpins
Usame (northern island) vs Xicome (southern island)
The Island vs a hurricane

Plot and Problems (still Chapter 6)

(I am still coping with Chapter 6--there are many things that need to be worked out before I can proceed with the following chapters.)

Monteleone says plots need to have problems.

There are mainly four kinds:

1. Man/woman against society: “…your protagonist is an individual who sees the world differently from those around him.”

2. Man/woman against man/woman: “Another plot you recognize instantly is the tale of the two rivals.” “To make it even more fun, a skillful writer can make it a tough choice for the readers—which character will they ultimately cheer for?”

3. Man/woman against him/herself: “These are the stories that focus on the inner struggles of a protagonist who must decide upon a particular path.” Monteleone adds that this kind of conflict can be rather complicated to depict.

4. Man/woman against nature: Character against hurricane, volcano eruption, earthquake, meteor, and so on.
Back to my plot.

I have the first two kinds of problems in my plot: Pej’o is against society and against other witches. So far, Bush’o and Fox’o are depicted as the bad guys, and Pej’o as the good one. But this can change: Pej’o can have her own vices—like having corrupt followers, consider herself like the only person capable of saving her island, and been an egotistical troublemaker. On the other hand, both Bush’o and Fox’o can show a humanitarian side, or a real concern for the future of their islands, or even humor.

I haven’t worked on the third and fourth but they can be included: all of the characters can have their chance to change, and nature can make things even more difficult. Fun, isn’t it?

6.04.2010

My Current Bible

The Guide I am following to write my novel.

Don't be scared, Bible means book. That's all.

Books about Mexican Politics

Some books I am reading about crystal clear Mexican politics and the straight forward war on drugs.

Plot-Engines According to Monteleone

By “plot-engine” (Chapter 6) Monteleone means “what gets the plot up and running and keeps it in motion.”

There are 2 kinds:

1. Event-driven plot-engine: The protagonist and secondary characters only react to things that happen outside of their control (a war, an earthquake, a climate change, a meteorite, etc.)

2. Character-driven plot engine: Changes within the characters or caused by their actions keep the plot moving.

My plot about the two islands, is it event-driven or character-driven?
The main witch in Usame decrees the war on coffee (character-driven).
The people in Xicome have to implement Usame’s policy (event-driven).
Pej’o opposes the policy (character-driven).
Fox’o casts Pej’o out of Xicome (character-driven).
So, my plot is more a character-driven plot engine, but also a little bit an event-driven plot-engine.

What about the plot in Erik Larson’s The Devil in the White City?

There are 2 main characters: David Burnham—the architect—and H. H. Holmes—the serial killer.

The non-fiction novel starts with an event-driven plot: Chicago will host the World’s fair. OK, these events were produced by the Congress, which had the choice between New York and Chicago, but our main character—David Burnham—was not involved in that decision, he just reacted to an event that was out of his control. And then, most of what happens is a character-driven plot, although events also drive it: Burnham bids for the fair contract and wins. He gathers a team of great men, plans, and struggles to build the fair, even though destiny seems to be against his will (man against nature, event-driven plot).

On the other hand, the serial killer’s story is mainly a character-driven plot: Holmes was good at planning, seducing, and killing without nobody noticing. His gruesome and sick psychology drives the creepy part of the book.

With good novels it is not that easy to see what is driving the action, sometimes events drive it, and sometimes characters do.

Ballot in the Island


Fox’o, the main witch and matriarch, has called for a congress of the main witches and matriarchs in Xicome to decide upon Pej’o’s fate.
The congress is held in the main hut. They sit in a circle, facing the center. Fox’o summons them to vote with an X on their oyster shell, if they want Pej’o to be redeemed, or with a dot, if Pej’o is to be cast out.
Some whispering breaks up among the sisters. Fox’o inquires and finds out that some sisters do not understand what X or dot mean, so Fox’o has to show them, by making an X and a dot on the sand, in the middle of the hut, while stressing the importance of the dot.
She stresses again the effect of the dot, and points at the dot repeatedly.
She stresses again the influence of the dot, and points at the dot again and again.
She stresses again the significance of the dot, and points at the dot over and over.
Some sisters cheerfully start repeating and chanting:
“Dot, dot, dot, dot, dot!”
Fox’o dances at the rhythm of their chanting, while facing each one of them, looking fiercely at each one’s eyes, stumping and repeating: “Dot, dot, dot, dot, dot!”
The sorority cast their ballot. Fox’o picks each oyster and puts them in a leather bag. Then, she goes back to her place, sits on the floor crossed legs, and tells the congress:
“I will place the dotted oysters in the bag on the right, and the crossed oysters in the bag on the left.”
A witch called Ranz’o tries to take a peek but Fox’o fixes her fierce gaze on her and she backs up.
The congress sees how Fox’o places all the oysters in the right bag but none in the left one.
Ranz’o asks:
--There were no crossed oysters? How strange?
--What is so strange about it? husky Fox’o asks angrily.
--I thought…
--There is no thinking, sister, there are facts, there were no crossed oysters, says Fox’o. Now, sisters, I must dedicate the ballot to the god of fire, Pej’o will be cast out, the congress is over.

6.03.2010

Coffee with Milk and Sugar

One of the heaviest drugs on the planet... the whole universe! The war on coffee must be implemented, the government can not shut its eyes, the media have to cry it out! If coffee consumption keeps growing, our youngs will become sleepless zombies!

"No man is an island... therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee." John Donne

No man is an island
Meaning
Human beings do not thrive when isolated from others. Donne was a Christian but this concept is shared by other religions, principally Buddhism.
Origin
This is a quotation from John Donne (1572-1631). It appears in Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions, Meditation XVII:
"All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated...As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all: but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness.... No man is an island, entire of itself... any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."

The Islands, Novel Plot


Maybe this is just one of those great ideas that wake you up in the middle of the night, and you really think you will be compared to George Orwell because of your wits, but in the end it turns out to be something worth only of an elementary school composition about last summer vacation.

Maybe… but here is the “big” idea that awoke me today, and the reason why I am blogging at 4:30 am:

There are 2 islands: Usame and Xicome, ok?

Usame is a big, rich, developed island with green--yes, GREEN--, tall, and beautiful natives who live in large huts and wear fashionable and expensive loincloths and waistcloths. Xicome is smaller, poor, underdeveloped and full with ugly, short white--yes, WHITE--natives who live cluttered in little, shaggy huts, and wear old loincloths, or no clothes at all. Being green is far more sexier than being white, so Xicomeans are considered to be inferior than Usameans due to their white skin and ugly looks. That’s why Usameans are a little racist against Xicomeans. Do you get the picture?

Usame needs the cheap labor that comes with Xicomean illegal immigrants, and some of Xicome’s crops—like coffee and sugar--, and Xicome needs the products made in Usame. There is a global interdependence, although Usame tends to underestimate that intertwined relationship.

One day, some influential old sorcerer in Usame, who is called Bush’o, decided coffee was a bad drug which had to be forbidden. “It impairs the mind, perverts the soul, destroys families, and it does not let you sleep at night,” she said. “And sugar is also bad,” Bush’o added. Coffee was bad, bad, and worse. Sugar was bad, bad, and worse. “Coffee with sugar and milk is the worst thing in the whole archipelago,” Bush’o ended.

Coffee and sugar cane, of course, are grown in Xicome—not in Usame due to climatic differences—, and are the most important crops on the island. And both Xicomeans and Usameans love coffee with sugar and milk. Usame, of course, urges Xicome to pursue an anti-coffee, anti-sugar policy, and to criminalize both producers and consumers.

Due to the prohibition, criminal gangs begin to form. In no less than a few weeks, they become rich, and they corrupt authorities in both islands. The sorcerer’s government of Usame establishes then the war on coffee and sugar, and urges Xicome to do the same. Usame even establishes an index to grade Xicomeans’ efforts to prosecute coffee and sugar kingpins, and achieve results on the war on coffee.

But, as I said, Usameans love coffee with sugar and milk, and they have money to buy it, even if the price is higher due to the prohibition. Later on, we will discover that Bush’o, the main sorcerer who had the idea of forbidding the coffee trade, is a coffee addict herself, and cannot avoid drinking coffee with sugar and milk all the time. How can that be possible? We also find out that the war on coffee is against one of the gangs, and benefits the other. There’s something fishy smelling here, isn’t it? Later on, we will also learn that the spears, bows and arrows used by Xicomean gangs are made in Usame, and guess who owns the weapon factory… You got it, the owner is Bush’o herself. Something is not smelling, something is rotten, stinking and even reeking!

Before the prohibition started, a very wise Xicomean shaman went to the hills to meditate. Her name is Pej’o. After months spent in solitude, she comes back to the village and finds out about the coffee prohibition. Pej’o does not drink coffee herself but finds the prohibition ridiculous and starts to preach against it. She says that coffe and sugar cane are the most important crops in the island, and reveals what is behind all this: corruption. Pej’o knows that Bush’o is a coffee addict and she owns the weapons factory in Usame. She explains what is behind all this prohibition to the Xicomeans.

The sorcerer leader of Xicome, Fox’o, starts saying that Pej’o is a threat to Xicome. An investigation is carried against Pej’o, and some coffee and sugar is found in her hut. Fox’o calls for a ballot among the sorcerer’s congress, and counts the votes herself, and then burns the ballot slips. “By a slight majority”, Fox’o says, “the Xicomean sorcerer’s congress has decided to banish Pej’o, that gossiper, who is spreading social unrest, that addict who wants to corrupt our young.”

“Pej’o is a threat to the island, to the archipelago, to mankind, and the whole universe. That foul-mouthed bitch has to be banned,” Fox’o added. (Then, after all the stress, Fox’o had to drink a cup of coffee with sugar and milk--on the sly, of course).

So, Pej’o is banned to a much smaller island, which in fact is just an uninhabited atoll, where there are just a few palm trees and lots of crabs. She is happy—she has always been happy—because she can meditate as much as she like, she has a lagoon with drinking water, and she can fish and eat as many crabs as she wants—even though she is quite measured.

Meanwhile, the situation in Xicome gets worse and worse because of the prohibition. The gangs are always fighting each other, authorities are rotten with corruption, and people are poorer and poorer. The gap between the rich and the poor widens. There are only three ways of surviving: migrating to Usame, becoming a corrupt sorcerer or a gangster.
(To be continued)

6.02.2010

Books on drugs

Books about drug traffic and the war on drugs

I am reading the following books to make a small research and get some ideas for my novel.

José Reveles, El cártel incómodo; el fin de los Beltrán Leyva y la hegemonía del Chapo Guzmán. Random House Mondadori, mayo de 2010.

Diego Enrique Osorno, El cártel de Sinaloa; una historia del uso político del narco. Random House Mondadori. 2009

Ricardo Ravelo, Osiel; vida y tragedia de un capo. Random House Mondadori. 2009.

Andrés López López y Juan Camilo Ferrand, Las fantásticas; las mujeres de el cartel. Aguilar, 2009.

Parody, war on drugs, converted cartel kingpin, yogic spiritual experience

The cartel kingpin ordered Ana's abduction in order to get the rescue money, and to be able to negotiate with the government.

But he has a spiritual experience while meditating, which changes his life dramatically.

From now on, he just wants the President to tell the truth before the media, and resign, and he'll release his daughter.

Some movies I liked - Algunas películas que me gustaron - Quelques films que j'ai aimé

Ushpizin (Israel)
Les Invasions barbares (Québec)
El fraude (México, Mandoki)
Tous les matins du monde (France)
Cyrano de Bergerac (France)
The Martian Child (USA)
Todo sobre mi madre (España, Almodóvar)
Atame (España, Almodóvar)
Trans-America (USA)
Little Miss Sunshine (USA)
A 40 Year-old Virgin (USA)
Stranger than Fiction (USA)
Shrek I (USA)
The Big Lewosky (USA)
Fargo (USA)
Le roi danse (France)
Blanc (France, Polland)
Bleu (France, Polland)
Rouge (France, Polland)

Reading to Write


Lela Davidson says in her blog that she can teach you how to write a novel in six months. I will check this link later:

http://hubpages.com/hub/How-to-Write-a-Novel-in-Six-Months--Week-Seven-Detail-Scene-Beats


Writing a novel in 6 months, wow! Wish I could! I will follow Lela Davidson’s web site and advise later.

For the moment being, I have a lot of reading to do in order to write my novel: politics—especially our little President’s corruption and his fight against corruption, LOL--, the war on drugs, kingpins, cartels, guerrilla squads, and so on. So I bought a few books, which I am enjoying.


Diego Enrique Osorno, a young Mexican journalist, wrote a book about the Sinaloa cartel, which is one of the biggest transnational “companies” in my country. Many claim that the government is protecting its kingpin, Chapo Guzmán, and fighting his foes. Why? Intelligent people can draw their own conclusions, but my guess—and by the way, Osorno’s guess also—is that there must be a link between our President and Chapo Guzmán.

Osorno says there were many who thought Calderón won the presidential election with fraud. At least, Calderón was by no means widely supported; he knew he had to do something to become a popular president. So he instated the war on drugs, and the Pandora box was open…

Another book I am reading is Señal de alerta (Alert Signal) by Manuel Espino, who used to be a party colleague of Calderón’s in the PAN. In fact, when Calderón was elected President, Espino was the PAN President. The author does not talk about the ballot, and does not even say the word “fraud”, what a shame… He must know a lot about the topic… But he is a critic of Calderón, and especially of his opaque alliances with PRI’s dark and powerful politicians like Beltrones and Gordillo. Espino states that this alliances can endanger our fragile “democracy”. The bad thing about the book is that Espino loves to waffle, he is a big pretentious mouth—or pen—his style is long-winded and he beats around the bush…

Another book I want to read is:
Hablan las actas (Ballot Papers Speak), José Antonio Crespo’s book about “irregularities” in the 2006 presidential ballot. Last time I checked, it was out of sell.

Wish I Were Paul Sheldon

Paul Sheldon is the writer in Stephen King’s Misery, who was abducted by his number-one fan Annie Wilkes—a serial killer.

Paul Sheldon lives in hell because both his legs are broken; he can’t walk, can’t leave his room, and anything he says can enrage his captor, who can either make him drink from a floor bucket with chlorine, cut one of his members, or just kill him.

Annie Wilkes is far crazier than any woman I’ve met, but there is something good about this eager reader: she wants Sheldon to write a novel especially for her. Sheldon understands that the only thing in the world that will save his skin is becoming a modern Sheherezade—the legendary Persian queen who tells stories to king Shahryar in order to avoid being beheaded in One Thousand and One Nights—and so he writes and writes. He realizes he had never written so fast and so well in his entire life, and thinks this is due to his captivity: had he be free, he would have gone out, met a new woman or just drank his soul out every night. At the end, he completes his best novel ever.

That’s the only thing that I envy from Paul Sheldon: being able to write, and do nothing else.
My life is so full with things to do and all kinds of distractions: house chores, cooking, work, a wife, kids, friends, a psychoanalyst, a dog, a cat, Facebook, good TV shows, good novels to read, a forthcoming football soccer World Cup, a World Wide Web that can answer even my most stupid question, a low energy level, and so on. How will I find the time to write?

That’s why I say: wish I were Paul Sheldon.