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Excerpts from a novel I have been writing (Redeux?)

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  • Excerpts from a novel I have been writing (Redeux?)

    I may have posted this on the old forums, but I had trouble with the search function, so here we go again.

    Way back in 2003, I had a very intense dream which inspired a novel. It woke me up at 6:05 am. As I was trying to back to sleep, the entire novel's storyline popped into my head, including how the two lead characters in the dream met, how they got to the situation in the dream and several good subplots. The morning after, (around 8am) I sat down at the computer and started writing. I completed the first two chapters in a single day. As I continued working on it when I could, I met up with a local actor who was perfect for one of the lead roles. After discussing the story a bit with him, we decided to pursue shooting a short promotional video to send into to prospective publishers with the manuscript. I used social media at the time to do a "casting call" and got an interesting response from (allegedly) a semi-well known actor. Well needless to say he was a fake..wackiness ensued, along with a lot of drama that could make for an interesting novel in and of itself. That situation, combined with a bad case of writer's block, derailed the book. that was around 2005, with four chapters (of a planned 12-14) completed.

    Well in 2023 I found the manuscript and the saved thumb drive with the files and resumed working on the book. I am now in the first draft of Chapter 7 and continuing to work on it when I have time (and in the mood.)

    Since this is a work in progress I have to be careful what I share here, but I wanted to put a few excerpts on this thread to see what you guys think. I will be putting "The following is rated.." Ratings based on subject matter for each excerpt.


    This first one is the forward to the book. Enjoy! Rated G

    (I have Redacted names in the thanks section to protect privacy.)

    All material and excerpts (c) 2003, 2024 Tony Bandiera Jr. All rights reserved.


    AUTHOR’S FOREWORD:


    Every writer has his or her own source of inspiration, something that wakes up the muse within and motivates them to put their thoughts down onto paper (or as I’ve been doing, into a computer). That source can be almost anything, another writer’s works, music, movies, TV (now there’s a challenge), or in some cases, one’s own dreams. If all goes well, whatever the seed of an idea, with a lot of hard thought and long hours, it will grow into a fully fleshed out story, with all the elements working together to hold the reader’s interest. The process can be rewarding, and at times, extremely frustrating. But the end result is usually worth it.

    The story you’re about to read is not the first work I’ve written. Back in my high school days, I wrote many short screenplays, based on “what if” certain things happened during the making of an extremely popular film of the era. Of some twelve scripts, one was considered pretty good by an outside source, one was ok but implausible, and the other ten were bad and worse. The pretty good one took four drafts and two years to write. The problem was, it was actually the second half of a really good story line. I set about writing the first half, but was quickly thrown off track by many conflicts in continuity. Since at that point it was also obvious that the setting (most popular film of the era, remember?) meant that there was no way I’d get the rights to film my epic, it was shelved and forgotten. And so, for many years (and I’m not telling how many, I feel ancient enough) there was no writing career in my future.

    Over the years I had been in the military, raced motocross, worked as a sound engineer for concerts and shows, in the film industry as a projection technician, and had recently taken up snowboarding. Then, in January 2003, it happened. After a night of enjoying the concert DVD of my favorite metal band, I went to sleep with surprising ease. I need to digress here to let you know that when I dream, it’s a full-blown, Cinemascope, Dolby Digital big screen production. Well, that night, I had the dream that was the genesis of this book. Since that dream forms one of the key scenes in this story, I won’t reveal it here. But it was so powerful, especially as the music track fit it perfectly, that it woke me up at 6:05 am. (That’s where the title of the book came from, too.) For the record, I never get up that early unless there’s an earthquake or someone in the bed with me wanting attention. (Both very rare believe me.)

    Such was the power of this dream; I couldn’t fall asleep afterward. As I lie there, all of the characters fell into place, virtually the entire story line was filled out, and it all happened with amazing ease. That was something that had never happened before. So, I then found myself at the computer at the ungodly hour of 8 am, writing the entire first chapter in one sitting. And the best thing of all, after I’d written about half of the second chapter, my 19-year-old neighbor read it and his immediate reaction was “Dude, you gotta make this into a movie.”

    Now that was a hell of a thing to say. To be sure, it was quite a compliment that he felt the story was compelling enough to make a good film (I did verbally fill out the story line for him), but if he had any idea how difficult it is to write a screenplay! I subscribe to the theory that a good book has the five “W’s”, i.e. Who, What, Why, When and Where; a screenplay has those elements plus all the technical additions: Camera Directions, Narrative, Set Directions, Editorial, Actor's cues (“I’m ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille”), Special Effects, and so on. It’s too easy to let the story get out of control or diluted when trying to keep all that together. So, I’ve decided to write the novel first, and if I like it (And if you like it), do a screenplay later.

    As I’d mentioned, the story fell into place quickly. The characters were also surprisingly easy to create as well. So, about them, here’s how they came to life: Derek Jr, the pro snowboarder, is a composite of many people I’ve met during my motocross days and snowboarding. His attitude is the darker, more badass side of my own, and his issues are mine also. Marcus is the closest to what I really wanted to be, in terms of his motocross success and his looks and personality. Derek Sr. is exactly the opposite of my own father in terms of personality and relationship ability. My father, though not rich, always provided for our family. God bless him. Marsha, Derek Sr.’s ex wife and Derek’s mother, is based on a mom who I knew from motocross, she was always there for her son and had a dry sense of humor. Most of the other characters, like Tom, Sam, Bill, Dale, Harold, Travis, and so on just fit right in, most based in one way or another with past acquaintances.

    And the rest…. Well, you’ll have to read the book to get the rest. Some of you may find certain elements of this story uncomfortable or disturbing, and for that I make no apologies. Some of the greatest works by authors, playwrights and artists are controversial. And no, as a first-time author I do not presume to compare myself to them or ascribe some over-inflated sense of importance to this book. But in the course of writing this book and through the proofreading and editing, I found that any changes I made to tone down the narrative diluted the dramaturgy of the story. I did make some concessions in regards to language, as the real dialog of Derek Jr. and the other extreme – sports folks would come across as unbearable in print.

    A famous author once said something to the effect that he wrote to please himself and if the public liked the work, terrific. If not, that was still ok, because he had told his story anyway. And that, my friends, is exactly how I feel about this story. It has given me a lot of pleasure to create (and a few migraines along the way) and from my seat, that’s good enough. But if you also find it compelling, intense and enjoyable, then that’s just the icing on the cake for me.

    So, with that all said, I would like to thank many people for their help, comments and inspiration in writing this book: xxx, my neighbor, who provided support and helped with the accuracy of the lingo for the snowboarding scenes; xxx, who kindly agreed to help proofread this book, all of the motocross racers I’ve met over the years who are all in some way incorporated into the story; the linemen of (utility) and (utility) who endured my questions for technical details on power transmission and distribution; and finally my Father (Passed Oct. 1999) and Mother (Passed Dec. 2020), who supported me no matter what crazy thing I was trying to do. I miss them both a lot.

    Now it’s your turn to discover the end result of years (now decades) of lost sleep, reams of paper and a lot of joy, tears, and anxiety.. Enjoy!!


    Tony Bandiera Jr., 2003, 2023



    Story to be continued.....

  • #2
    So all 462 pages of it just popped into your head??? Wait!... How would I know there are 462 pages?

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    • #3
      Originally posted by Mark Gulbrandsen View Post
      So all 462 pages of it just popped into your head??? Wait!... How would I know there are 462 pages?
      LOL not all of the pages at once of course. But many of the main story elements and several subplots, as well as most of the characters and their parts in the story. And have you hacked my computer?

      Interesting on your page count...I think that when the story is finished, and reformatted to a typical book page size and font, it will end up being around 350-450 pages. I am currently writing it in a standard 8x11 page format with specific custom margin settings (which I had to edit out the html size tags from in that previous excerpt) and at 5 pages in to Chapter 7 the page count is 100. Each chapter is averaging 20-24 pages (except Ch. 5, it was taking place on a Sunday and was short at 15 pages.)

      Here's the next bit I want to share, it's the two leads having some fun. (Marcus is a Pro mx rider, Derek a pro snowboarder) Rated strong PG-13 for language.

      All material and excerpts (c) 2003, 2024 Tony Bandiera Jr. All rights reserved.


      SECRET MX TRACK

      The sounds of the two Yamahas grew in intensity as Derek and Marcus emerged from the tree line. Side by side they raced toward the big triple jump, each pushing the other faster and harder as they pounded through the rockers. Derek’s laughter rang out as they took the face of the jump side by side, Marcus shooting him a quick thumbs up as they caught air. Derek whipped his bike sideways, the same move he did in the garage. They landed and headed into the berm, Marcus cutting to the inside in an aggressive move that nearly sent Derek off the track.

      “Oh, you wanna play rough, huh?” Derek shouted.

      Marcus laughed in reply and cut him off heading into the next corner. Derek upshifted and pinned the throttle down the short straightaway leading to a step-up jump. He moved over to take the line away from Marcus, but the pro MX’r was ready with a counter move that had them bumping off each other on the face of the jump. Derek struggled to keep control and almost lost it at the launch. He turned to glare at Marcus who laughed again. On the backside of the jump, both riders pinned the gas to gain an advantage through the whoops and set up for the next jump.The kid’s fuckin fast, Marcus grunted. But he doesn’t know all the tricks…

      Marcus gained ground through the whoops, a bike’s length advantage, which he exploited into the corner, solidly slamming the door on Derek who cursed out loud. In desperation Derek tried to make a pass, but Marcus anticipated the move and blocked him again. As they raced to the face of the next jump Derek made a daring pass move that almost put them both on the ground. In midair Marcus whipped his bike to show Derek who the best rider was. They landed from the jump, cut back across the track to stop at the truck. Marcus put his bike on the stand, whipped off his helmet and just as Derek got his bike on its stand, crossed to Derek and pushed him in the chest with both hands.

      “You fucking maniac!! What the hell was that pass about?!”

      Derek pulled his helmet off, his hair plastered to his head and face red and sweaty.

      “Dude, what’s eating you?”

      “You almost took us both out, you idiot!!”

      “Too aggressive for you, wanker?”

      Marcus’ anger quickly faded, and he shook his head as he moved toward Derek.

      “Ohhh, you little….I’ll show you aggressive..”

      “Bring it on, bud.” Derek laughed and raised his fists playfully.

      Marcus led with his right fist as Derek blocked and countered, spinning around and away. They closed in again, sparring playfully, each landing some shots on the other. Marcus moved in and put Derek into a headlock.

      “Dude, it smells under here, let go!!”

      Marcus tightened the lock. “Too bad. I had to put up with your shoes, so deal with it!!”

      Derek struggled to break free, finally shifting position and getting Marcus off balance. He rolled into the move, sending Marcus over his back and to the ground. Derek jumped on him and they wrestled, the advantage shifting places. A few rollovers, then Derek pinned Marcus down on his back. Sitting on Marcus’ legs, Derek pinned his arms down and grinned.

      “Ha! Even my brother couldn’t out-wrestle me!!”

      Panting, totally out of breath, Marcus grinned back up at Derek.
      “Alright, you win. Get off of me.”

      Derek didn’t move. He gave Marcus that crooked smile, also panting heavily. He slowly leaned in, his face inches from Marcus’, eyes half closed.

      Oh, gods. He’s gonna kiss me, Marcus thought.

      “Whatever you want, stud.” He got up, extending his hand down to Marcus. He pulled Marcus up and gave him a quick hug. “Let’s eat, I wanna ride some more.”

      He crossed to the cooler in the truck, grabbed a sandwich and drink and sat down on the tailgate. He pulled off his jersey, wiping his face and armpits with it. He then attacked his food. Marcus watched this, still not sure what had just happened. Am I reading too much into this, he mused. Or is Derek just trying to shock me? He shook his head and crossed to the truck.

      Last edited by Tony Bandiera Jr; 12-14-2024, 02:47 PM. Reason: Add copyright notice

      Comment


      • #4
        C'mon guys and gals, I'd like to hear your input on these, good bad or otherwise.

        Tonight's excerpt is from one of the subplots, and it is different, but plays a role in the other elements of the story. I wrote this in 2003 and it is largely unchanged since then.

        WARNING: Rated R for graphic depictions of injury/death.

        All material and excerpts (c) 2003, 2024 Tony Bandiera Jr. All rights reserved.

        DWP SIMI VALLEY SUBSTATION, 15 YEARS AGO

        The hum from the barely controlled energy coursing through the transformers and breakers filled the air. Sam always felt some apprehension whenever he entered a substation or generating plant. His training always emphasized the danger of working around high voltage power, and that it behaved in sometimes unpredictable ways. As a trouble call lineman he’d seen some strange things, things which in theory could not happen. And the consequences were always destructive and sometimes deadly. Today’s assignment was a relatively simple one. A bank of enclosed circuit breakers operating at 16kv were to be inspected. The bank of six breakers fed various customer circuits in the area. Each breaker, about four feet tall, three wide and three deep, were of the type known as “draw-out” or “truck” breakers. After the breaker was switched off, two release latches were rotated and the entire breaker could be pulled out of the cabinet for work to commence. As the breaker was withdrawn from the cabinet, safety shutters of red fiberglass closed over the connection studs to the always live 16,000 volt buss bars.

        Sam’s job was to supervise the inspection and any repairs to the breakers, as well as overseeing the complex switching operation which allowed the power to remain on to the customers. This switching operation did, however, add an extra hazard to the work. Because of the backfeed, the studs in the cabinet for the load, or controlled side of these breakers were now fully energized. The load side studs did not have the safety shutters. The crew was briefed to stay clear of the studs at all times. They worked with pleasing efficiency, fixing each breaker in turn and returning it to the cabinet, awaiting its return to service. While returning the fourth breaker to the cabinet, trouble developed.

        “Shit.”

        “What’s wrong?”

        “Don’t know, Sam. It won’t lock in.”

        “Is it seating fully?”

        “Yeah…wait, no….aw hell..”

        “Let me take a look, Paul.”

        Paul drew the breaker fully out of the cabinet and began to check for anything which would bind it up. Everything looked normal. Sam also didn’t notice anything amiss. Shrugging, Sam sighed. “Try it again.”

        Paul rolled the recalcitrant breaker back into its spot, this time pushing hard at the end of its travel. The metal-to-metal contact of the cabinet stops hid the cracking sound. But the unit still wouldn’t latch.

        “No dice.”

        “Fuck. Pull it back out.”

        As Paul began to pull, an ominous buzzing sound started from within the cabinet.

        “Wait!! Don’t move anything!!” Sam paled. “Get clear, everybody!”

        With amazing speed, the area cleared as the crew backed away from the cabinet. Abruptly, the buzzing stopped. The crew exchanged worried glances, thinking how close they came to being fried. Sam furrowed his brow.

        “Why did it stop?”

        Paul shrugged. “Maybe the breaker was picking up load.”

        Sam glared. “Impossible. It’s off, for one thing. And we’re backfeeding the load.”

        “Cross-phasing?”

        “No way. We’d be toast if it tried.”

        “Then what?”

        Sam considered his options. First, he could kill the power to the entire cabinet including the backfeeds, an option which would make the boss, Devon Slade, very unhappy. Not to mention dropping power to a lot of customers. He could restore normal feeds to all but the affected circuit, which would minimize the outage, but meant that any failure in the cabinet could cascade to the other circuits. After weighing the risks, he decided on a course of action.

        “O.K., here’s how we’re gonna tackle this. Eric, you and John go to the yard and cut out the backfeed to Papillion six circuit. Lock out the bus tie breaker to not reclose on a fault. Paul, you and I will hat up and try to withdraw that breaker again and figure out what the hell’s going on.”

        “You want Papillion six grounded out?”

        “No, Eric. I don’t want a fault to ground in that cabinet.”

        “Do you think….”

        Sam flared: “Do as you’re told! Now move!”

        Eric and John retreated, muttering. Sam glared at Paul, who now looked a bit pale.

        “Alright, Paul, let’s get this bitch out.”

        They both put on their gloves and goggles, minimal protection against the voltage they faced. Both carried on with the attitude that since it was metal enclosed gear, what could possibly go that far wrong?

        Eric radioed in: “Simi lead one, simi four. Papillion six ABC phases cut. Bus tie Turbo2 on no reclose.”

        Sam responded: “Copy simi four. Papillion ABC dead, Turbo 2 no shot. Come on in.”

        Out in the yard, Eric and John were staring in disbelief at the radio. First this breach of safety rules, now he wants us to come in and leave the switchyard? Eric keyed his radio:

        Simi lead, simi four. Say again?”

        Sam growled back: “Simi four, lead. Get back in here.”

        Copy.”

        John sighed. “He’s in charge.”

        Eric grimaced. “Yeah, and we’re the ones who get fucked when something happens.”

        Back inside, Sam and Paul cautiously withdrew the breaker.

        “Look at that, Sam.”

        “That” was a large burn mark, extending from the “C” phase line side socket to the breaker’s housing. Sam groaned as he realized the damage meant the breaker had to be sent to the factory for repair. But how did it happen? And why was the socket’s outer insulating sleeve cracked? While Sam was mulling over this unpleasant information, he didn’t notice that Paul had gone inside the cabinet for a closer look. Paul noticed that the safety shutter for the “C” phase stud was damaged. With his right hand, he tried to move the damaged shutter aside. In his cramped position, he’d placed his other hand on the load studs as he pushed against the shutter. His bare elbow was touching the metal side of the cabinet. He began to sweat as he struggled to get the shutter unjammed.

        Eric and John entered as Sam turned to chew Eric out for questioning his orders. He never got to say a word. The shutter broke free and the line stud’s edge cut through the glove. Paul began to scream as blue flames enveloped his elbow and both hands. With an incredible concussion which knocked everyone to the ground, a massive explosion and fireball enveloped Paul. The nightmarish buzzing of electricity out of control overrode Paul’s eldritch scream as the 16,000 volts coursed through his body. Sam watched in horror, even as he shouted to Eric and John: “KILL BUS TIE TURBO TWO AND REDRIDER TWO!! GO!! GO!!”

        The radios came alive with calls as Operations noticed the fault on their monitors, not believing what the system was doing. The substation hotline phone rang with an insistent urgency. Sam ran to it, never taking his eyes off of the horrifying sight of Paul. He picked up the phone and shouted: “Emergency!! Man in contact with live circuit! Kill Simi substation immediately! Roll emergency services, fire and medics!”

        As Eric and John reached the breakers, the entire yard resounded with the bangs and arcs as the command from operations began to shut down the entire station. They both jumped as they realized the gravity of what was happening.

        “Holy fuckin shit!! We gotta get out of here!” John turned to run, but Eric grabbed him.

        “No!! Stay cool, man. They’re just shutting it down.”

        Eric turned back toward the building and noticed the smoke roiling out of the breaker cabinet vent stack. John looked up and sickly realized what it was. He turned away and retched.

        Inside, Sam wondered for the millionth time when the bastards would cut the power.

        Abruptly, all noise ceased as the emergency lights came on. In the distance he could hear the sirens approaching. How long had Paul been in contact? It had seemed like an eternity, watching a man die in the worst possible way. He knew, without looking, there was no chance he’d survived. The whole area reeked with the stench of death, mixed with the ozone from the sustained high current arc.

        Simi station, Simi station, are you down? Respond please.”

        Sam stared at the phone in his hand and slowly, softly replied:
        “Control, we’re offline. Please notify EMS of one confirmed fatality.”

        He set the phone down as the sirens grew louder and abruptly stopped. With the walk of a man many years older, he went outside to direct the rescue crews.


        ***End excerpt***

        Here is a video from Russia which shows this situation in real life (thankfully with no fatality) but it is an accurate visual of the fault that started in the breaker cabinet in the story. Unlike in my novel, it progressed to eventually damage the entire substation. :


        https://www.youtube.com/shorts/KCQtgc-3XEI

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