DUNE 7 BLOG

December 7 - 11, 2005

Busy week in Moab, Utah

• Sixty chapters edited in SANDWORMS
• Six new connecting/expanded SANDWORMS chapters dictated
• Twelve chapters in another new novel dictated
• 750-page copy-edited manuscript of OF FIRE AND NIGHT proofed
• 21 miles hiked

In order to make a lot of headway on SANDWORMS, to get my major revisions completed before Brian finishes with HUNTERS, I drove off to the slickrock desert of Utah. There, I planned to hole up in a small condo and pretty much work round the clock. Being isolated out in the desert seemed the appropriate place for keeping my head in the Dune universe.

I had intended to leave on Tuesday, but the weather reports warned of a heavy snowstorm on the way, so I headed out from Colorado Springs Monday afternoon to beat the front. On the six hour drive I passed through Denver in 75 mph winds, westward into the mountains, through the Eisenhower Tunnel, over icy Vail Pass, and down into the dryer area west of the Continental Divide. After dinner in Grand Junction, I reached Moab well after dark, found my key and my rented condo, then set up shop, plugging in my laptop and my i-pod to speakers. At last, after a long day, I could start editing.

All day Tuesday, able to concentrate for hours on end without any interruptions, I blitzed through chapters of SANDWORMS, breaking only to go out to dinner. Ten chapters done.

For the rest of the evening, I combed through the thick copy-edited manuscript of my "Seven Suns" novel OF FIRE AND NIGHT, which had arrived just before I left for Utah. I sat with the heavy stack of pages in my lap, flipping from page to page, checking the copy-editor's marks -- commas and em-dashes, queries about details. All the while, just to keep the mood going, I had the DVD of the David Lynch version of DUNE playing in the background. [I can pick apart many things with the movie, but I do particularly love the music and the sets.] After taking a warm bath and finishing the science fiction novel PARADOX by John Meany, I went to bed around midnight.

Wednesday, I got up early, turned on the coffee maker, and set a goal of editing five chapters before I would let myself take a break outside. Looking out the window at the gorgeous canyon scenery was enough of an incentive. Though the day was clear and sunny, the temperature never climbed above 20 degrees, but I was still glad to get out into the desert.

In early afternoon, I chose a lovely walk about 15 miles' drive up the Colorado River from Moab, a section of spectacular rock pinnacles called Fisher Towers. A 4.4-mile roundtrip trail winds through the towers, up and down canyons, and finally to a high point that looks back on the rocks and the distant river. During the walk, with thick gloves barely keeping my fingers warm, I dictated the last two connecting chapters for SANDWORMS. Then I drove along the scenic route up through Castle Valley and the La Sal Mountains (very slick and icy roads, sharp curves, and steep drop-offs…so, I didn't have much chance to stare at the scenery). Back at the condo for the evening with my head clear and my creative batteries recharged, I edited another five chapters before I went to bed.

Thursday -- I again edited five chapters by early afternoon before I went for a quick hike in Arches National Park. I have been to Arches several times and have hiked all of the main trails, but I revisited two of my favorites, marveling at the rock formations. Again, it was very cold, high of 23, but I took the tape recorder and completed two new chapters in the other novel I'm writing. Then that evening Brian called to discuss some fine points of HUNTERS. (Talking to Brian or Rebecca are the only two interruptions I allow on an isolation trip like this.)

Off and on, for brief breaks when my brain is just too tired to think, or when I'm in a restaurant eating dinner, I've been reading Peter F. Hamilton's massive space opera PANDORA'S STAR, and I just started a thick, complex fantasy, THE WARRIOR-PROPHET by R. Scott Bakker. Also, at the encouragement of my 18-year-old stepson, I'm watching his DVD set of the classic anime series "Cowboy BeBop." Great animation and imagination.

By Friday, since I had been so productive, I rewarded myself with a lengthy trip down to the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park. I set the alarm for 6:00, drank my coffee, ate breakfast, and edited two chapters before setting out for the 67-mile drive to the Needles District. After chatting with the ranger, I chose a 12-mile round trip hike to the top of a mesa a thousand feet above the confluence between the Green River and the Colorado River. Didn't see a soul the whole day -- this is definitely off-season here, but the rocks and terrain are perfect even in cold weather.

And it was cold, again barely scraping 20 degrees. With my thick jacket, stocking cap, warm gloves, several Red Bulls, a Camelbak of water (that I hoped wouldn't freeze), and some lunch, I trudged off with walking stick in one hand and tape recorder in the other, along with scraps of paper containing my notes for new chapters.

Though I am hooked on writing while walking, cold weather makes for some difficulties. Years ago, when I was dictating my first draft of Chapter 1 in HOUSE ATREIDES, when Baron Harkonnen inspects a spice blow on Arrakis, I did a long walk on a bike trail near my home. With the temperature below zero, I wore special insulated gloves, then hiked three miles. I dictated the whole chapter -- only to discover that though my hands had been warm enough, the batteries had frozen, and I lost everything. I switched out the batteries, warmed them in my pants pocket while I grumbled and cursed about all the work that had just vanished, and finally -- with functional batteries now -- I walked back home and dictated the chapter all over again.

Today, fortunately the cold didn't take such a toll. I reached the confluence overlook by about 1:00 PM, after picking my way down into canyons where puddles were sheets of ice, climbing up dry waterfalls, even using a metal ladder once. Looking down at the two rivers, I could see the current drifting ice chunks down the canyon. The silence was complete.

I got back to my car by 4:00 and returned to Moab by 5:00. During the day I had written five new chapters, so I felt quite satisfied (and my imagination was tired out again). I stopped for a beer in one of Moab's two microbreweries after my long hike. When I sat at the bar, the waitress asked if I was going to be eating dinner. "Not for a while. Just a beer for now." She looked at me as if I'd said something wrong. She brought my beer and a basket of chips and salsa. "That'll be $3.50 for the beer and 69 cents for the chips." "No thanks, I don't want any chips." Now her strange look changed to one of horror. "It's illegal for me to serve you a beer if you don't eat anything. Utah state law -- you have to order food with your drink."

Very odd, but then with a sigh I remembered where I was. A couple of years ago I had gone to Vernal, Utah and Dinosaur National Monument during the writing of my novel HORIZON STORMS. After doing a 14-mile hike on a long, warm, sweaty day, I stopped at Vernal's State Licensed Liquor Store (a drab building hidden in a side alley at the edge of town; it reminded me of an adult book shop). Inside, I found a six-pack of a fine Utah microbrewed Pale Ale sitting on a shelf. I went to the refrigerated case, but couldn't find any beer there. I asked the owner, "Do you have any of this cold?" He blinked at me as if I'd asked him his opinion on flying saucers. "Why no, sir. If I sold you cold beer, you just might take it home and drink it right away!" So I brought the warm beer back to my hotel room, put it on ice, and let it chill while I contemplated my sin. . . .

Fortunately, Utah more than makes up for its quirks in liquor laws with spectacular scenery.

Saturday, my last full day of editing and writing. During the week I've been playing a lot of Rush on the i-pod, especially with the recently released DVD and CD of their 30th anniversary tour. I've known the drummer and lyricist for Rush, Neil Peart, for almost twenty years; my first novel, RESURRECTION, INC., was inspired by their album "Grace Under Pressure," and Neil collaborated with me on the short story "Drumbeats," and he wrote the introduction to my forthcoming collection LANDSCAPES. While listening to the music at sufficient volume, I was able to complete a lot of editing.

I got through another ten chapters and did a brief afternoon hike out to see Corona Arch and Bowtie Arch in an obscure side canyon. Just as I got back to my car, I briefly picked up cell phone service (most of this isolated area is completely blacked out) long enough to receive a voicemail message from Brian -- we had sold Dutch and French translation rights to ROAD TO DUNE and HUNTERS & SANDWORMS. Other offers had just come in to reissue several other Frank Herbert titles in Polish and French, thanks to the increased interest in DUNE and Frank Herbert in general. Before the publication of HOUSE ATREIDES, every single one of Frank Herbert's non-DUNE novels were out of print; now these great classic works are experiencing a well-deserved resurgence. Expect to see more reprinted in the US as well.

On Sunday, I wanted to get a few more chapters done before I returned home. I edited a chapter, packed the suitcase, edited another chapter, then ate breakfast, edit another chapter, then loaded up the car. As I drove back home, I dictated several more chapters in the other novel, then made a side trip to a snowy trail back in the Colorado mountains. The Storm King Memorial Trail winds along a devastated ridge that was charred in a terrible wildfire in 1994, which cost the lives of 14 fire fighters. Even after more than a decade, Storm King mountain looks bleak, and poignant memorials tell the story of the disaster and mark where the fire fighters died.

Finally back home to Rebecca, cats, and a mountain of mail -- and enough distractions to make me want to turn around and head right back out to the Utah desert.

--KJA