It's Oscars time. Somebody wake the Grouch.

Thursday, April 07, 2005

We want the GAN!! We want the GAN!!

All signs point to the fact that Juan Carlos is still having trouble with the GAN. To those who are asking what I’ve been smoking, please familiarize yourself by going here, here, and here. The GAN, or Great American Novel, is the ambition of every writer who has picked up a quill, pecked a typewriter, or wished to throw his word processor out of the window for the last two hundred some odd years. In our earlier posting we dealt mainly with the start of the GAN but now I want to take the next step, or I should say last step, in our three part structure. While the beginning of a novel is integral to building suspense and so-called rising action, the end is equally important to resolve the conflict which is developed in the middle. In order to continue in my efforts to help my friend Juan CV, here are some possible ending paragraphs for the much anticipated GAN.


Cassandra gazed out at the smoldering remains of Candlewood her beloved plantation. Wrecked by war and the lusty passions of Col. Beauregard it was now a shadow of the green and lush Xanadu she had known as a child. However, from deep in her bosom a pride welled-up and she felt as if her heart would explode. As she stood on the precipice of Walnut Hill with the soft hues of dusk behind her she knew that there would always be another day. That night, as she laid her head on the pillow, a meteor struck the earth and flung it off its axis into the sun.

The townspeople had learned a lot from the little clown. Harmonious P. Picklebottom had taught them about love, laughter, joy, and tranquility. But he was gone now and they would have to learn to find these attributes within themselves, each striving to emulate a little piece of his character. As he swung from the gallows many of them had a gnawing feeling that maybe his work was not done.

Larry swung the midget onto his shoulders and pushed his way through the crowd outside St. Kelvan’s Medical Center. “I have to get in to see the governing board, this man told me he has the secret to ending the plague. Millions more may die today if I can’t get in to see them. It’s our only hope.” He burst into the boardroom and threw the midget onto the table as the security guards dragged him to the floor. Before he slipped into unconsciousness from the batons he could hear the midget speaking to the members sitting in rapt attention, “Laughter is the best medicine. Follow the Yellow Brick Road, Follow the Yellow Brick Road…”

As Hadley’s ’83 Cutlass careened off the Brooklyn Bridge everything seemed to go into slow motion. The constraints of time seemed to give way to perfect clarity as he could make out even the faces of the dock workers below and count the feathers on a pigeon’s wings. His life flashed before his eyes ending in that apartment where Peg had thrust the dagger into his heart. Then, as he hurled toward the water, he thought of the perfect comeback line. Damn.


Here's to the hope that the GAN is forthcoming.

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