Colin Barrett: Blog

Two more chapters. There's a little break in the action while Nick-and, hopefully, the reader, too-gets acclimated to the changes in his life, which are, you have to admit, pretty drastic what with one thing and another.
Oh, the food. Well, why shouldn't Nick eat well? Hot dogs and canned chili really don't cut it for anyone over the age of, say, 10 or 11. I personally enjoy good food and have learned to cook it because it's less expensive than eating out every night, and I chose to invest Nick with the same attributes.

I don't have much to add to my story today. I think these two chapters speak for themselves without a chatty blog entry.

Two more chapters today. They're both pretty important ones to the story. And reasonably long, too; but they kind of go together, so I decided to post both today.
Once again, the real-life comparison I said I'd try to draw between the voices I envisioned for my characters and actual opera singers: it should come as no surprise that I had Anna Moffo in mind when I wrote Camilla. Like Camilla, Moffo was a true lyric soprano; as for beauty, well, Moffo was of course a former beauty contestant-Miss America. I think it was, and I recall that she made it pretty deep into the pageant (though she wasn't a blonde). At the same time, Moffo's voice, while fine enough to get her to the Metropolitan Opera (and most of the other major houses around the world) wasn't quite tops, as I postulate for Camilla. For quality of voice I was thinking more along the lines of Renata Tebaldi, although Tebaldi was more of a spinto (a lyric soprano with echoes of the dramatic) and had little of the flexibility required to handle the coloratura aspects of, say, Gilda in Rigoletto or (as will be important later) Violetta in La Traviata. Still, her voice was a true glory. But Camilla is also a perfectionist in singing technique and characterization; for that I hark back to Maria Callas, although Callas' vocal quality wasn't up to Tebaldi's and Callas did full coloratura roles (with enormous success). So think of Camilla as kind of a hybrid of the three.
Madeleine's voice came from my remembrance of Birgit Nilssen; Nilssen's speaking voice, from what little I heard it, was also as described. Madeleine's avoirdupois (or a lot of it), temperament and predilections, however, are entirely my invention; I never heard (or saw) anything about Nilssen in these regards.
By the way, my description of the baritone roles in Turandot is accurate. Other than the annunciator mandarin, a role usually relegated (as in my story) to a comprimario because it's so brief and unimportant to the overall opera, and who doesn't normally get an Act I curtain call, the only other baritone is a court minister named Ping who consorts for the entire production with two other ministers, Pang and Pong, comprimario tenors. They do a lot of trios, and, while Ping is slightly more important to the opera than the others and is sometimes cast with a singer who also performs lead roles in other operas, the role is not sung by a top-tier baritone.
The end of Act I is as I wrote it. There's a legend that, in a production at Milan's La Scala, tenor Franco Corelli upped the ante on that climactic moment by actually running upstage to ring the gong, singing all the while-a truly remarkable feat, especially considering that the gong was up a short flight of stairs in that set. He didn't, at least in the one performance I saw, really take it quite that far; but I recall that he did move up those steps pretty briskly, if short of an all-out run. Most tenors need to take it more sedately.
For those who grow too impatient with my posting pace, the whole novel is available on Amazon, as I've mentioned before, for a very small price ($3), along with my other long fiction-some posted here, others not.
Lastly, responding to e-mails, yes, I know cats are ordinarily strict carnivores and don't generally ride on your shoulder while curling their tails around you (or parts of you). This particular cat, though, isn't your typical tabby, as you may have already deduced even if my description didn't clue you in.

Just one chapter today, and not all that long a one, at that.
But this is where important things start to happen, so have patience. More's coming.
For those opera fans who want real-life counterparts for the voices, I'm sorry but I can't really give you one for Nick's as it evolves. It's a rare baritone who can shine at both the Italian repertoire and Wagner's Flying Dutchman; many, of course, do both, but generally are best known for one or the other. The quality of voice I had in mind as I wrote this is probably best exemplified by Tibbet or Warren (although his timbre was unique), or, more recently, Milnes; currently the top exemplar is Hvorotovsky, I suppose. Generally, some basso overtones in a strong baritone texture with, nevertheless, a ringing top register. Maybe Titta Ruffo comes closest, but with a smoother legato, for anyone who's serious about voices of a century ago. I'll try to make comparisons for the other major characters as they come more fully into the story, but no-one's a direct draw from reality.
A couple of readers took me too seriously about the annoyance I expressed at the morons who assigned me a "1" rating. I was just irritated, not seriously disheartened. Some years ago one of the magazines I write for professionally (non-fiction in my field-which, by the way, is transportation law and management) did a reader survey in which opinions were solicited on various pieces, including my regular column. I still recall that one responder remarked tartly that "I wouldn't have Colin Barrett wash my car." Not being a car-washer by trade, I didn't worry too hard about it, especially since that poll rated my column No. 1 in the magazine. But when I have naysayers like that, I'm scarcely going to let a couple of idiot voters on SOL get me down. The old saw is that everyone's entitled to his opinion; the corollary is that some opinions are worth more than others.

Two more chapters today, in hopes of making up for the initial slow pace of my story.
I said originally that I was expecting low ratings, especially of my early postings, and they've been generally about what I'd anticipated. Except. . . two readers chose to give my submission the lowest possible ranking of 1, which comes with the sneering subtitle, "you call this a story?" I've read comments from other authors complaining about the same thing with their stories. I suppose there are idiots out there who get their jollies by doing that sort of "Kilroy was here" graffiti, but isn't it pretty childish? Why simply dump on somebody's efforts without even troubling to read what they've written, which I can only assume is the case, since anyone who can form a complete sentence is surely worthy of more than a total dismissal? I know I join with many other authors in wishing that SOL membership could be freed from those who simply want to call attention to themselves with this sort of nonsense.
By the way, one reader chastised me for failing to address the cliffhanger of "your last chapter" and embarking instead on a new story line. I belatedly realized that another author has also been posting a continuing story with a similar title, "Castaway: Explorer." The two tales are entirely unrelated; the other author, who goes by an obvious pseudonym on SOL, isn't me under a cognomen. Sorry about the confusion, it's entirely coincidental. I chose my title several years ago when I first published Castaway on Amazon, and it's a direct follow-through on the subject matter, as readers will find in due course; indeed, when we get to the end, I'll defy any reader to suggest a better title. I'm sure the other author had similar reasons. It's just that our minds, and presumably our stories, ran in parallel directions. So, please, I hope readers can forgive the overlapping titles and keep our disparate submissions mentally separated.