Alpha hero goes on a date

Here’s a man able to meet life and death challenges with the cool and quickness of a James Bond, but frets and obsesses over a date. Note: there is a natural humor to this, but it so human. Many men and women go into a fit of histrionics when preparing for a date. They’ll try on different outfits. Brush their hair and then brush it again, sure that one loose strand will lead to rejection. He’ll cut himself shaving. Ruined! They’ll practice things to say, etc.
You might think I’m talking about a metro-sexual guy. Nope. Here’s a chance to inject a touch of flaw, excitement, show him as human, as interested. It is, after all, a life and death situation. Humans need love to survive, to be fully human. No less so, the alpha hero. Just don’t expect him to be in command of himself at home preparing, or maybe on the date. He’ll put his life on the line, but when it comes to making life happen (well, not usually on a first date) he’s a klutz (or somewhere in between James Bond and Barney Fife). He could appear normal, but inside he’s a tangle of insecurities. Or perhaps his stage fright disappears as he gains confidence and takes in the beauty that sits across from him. He’s a lucky man.
Al Jolson sings, About a Quarter to Nine, written by Al Dubin and Harry Warren, published in 1935. In this video he dances with his wife, Ruby Keeler, in the 1935 musical, Go Into Your Dance.
https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=al+jolson+about+a+quarter+to+nine&docid=608019009778813194&mid=CC7D557A96E0D12B3CA4CC7D557A96E0D12B3CA4&view=detail
 

Latin From Manhattan

I’m starting phase two of my blog. The first phase is being collated, edited and will be released as a book, The Art of Writing Male Characters.

I may not have exhausted my male POV ideas but will start mixing up this blog with more general topics about writing.

A Latin From Manhattan (adding charm to your plot)

All habits are pleasurable or you wouldn’t do them. Some are harmful. Some are great for you.

One insidious habit for a writer is block. This is usually self-inflicted. The longer you wait to start writing again the less likely you will. Why? Because, to simplify the science, a habit is formed after 21 repetitions of anything. Once a habit is formed, it is painful to break it. Call it withdrawal if you like.

Because of my daughter’s wedding and caring for my elderly parents, I made every excuse not to write.

I’d love to hear your ideas on breaking the non-writing habit. I’ll make some suggestions.

1. Write out a list for every day and then follow it.

2. Find a critique or writing partner that is willing to prod you, persistently.
3. Find that missing pride, that belief in yourself.
4. Remember the parable of the talents and realize you are not going about the Lord’s work or if you are an atheist, you are not contributing to your fellow man.
5. Even if, at present, hardly anybody reads your stuff, someday they will, if you have something to contribute.
6. If you have nothing to contribute to literature, than look within to find your true talents and don’t waste a moment more. Start giving back.
7. Giving back will improve your self-worth and image, which influences your health. You’ll be a better person to be around.
8. Use your heart and mind and if you are creative, enjoy and celebrate your inner powers.

Now, if I could only start writing again.

LATIN FROM MANHATTAN is a fictional dance studio and nightclub in NYC that I had to work into Autumn Breeze. Why do this? The art of writing in general is to give more, enrich the story, keeping pace in mind. In this case, the hero knew the heroine to be a dedicated dancer. He claimed not to know how to dance, so that someday he might surprise her when they could ease off saving the world. Isn’t that little subterfuge in the hero’s mind a good hook? If any critiquer had told me that the dance scene didn’t advance the plot (and no one did) I would have politely listened and then not change a thing. Why, I’m an artist. I’m a writer. I believe in my talents to tell a story and entertain.

So I'll present a song that makes no sense logically, is put into a movie to showcase the actors but is unforgettable and part of our culture. Latin From Manhattan, sung by Al Jolson and danced by his wife, Ruby Keeler in the movie, Go Into Your Dance, 1935.

 

 Do you sense the joy in the writing of this scene and isn't that enough to wake up your muse?