findingphilblog

Remember back a few years ago when I said that if my father lived to see his grandchildren, he’d be the first Venezia man in more than 100 years to do so?

Well, I’m happy to say that earlier this fall, Jason and mine’s beautiful baby girl entered the world. Grandpa and Nana are, of course, besotted with her. And we think she’s pretty terrific, too.

I was lucky enough to stay home for the last few months but am just now getting back to the swing of things with work and the book.

Don’t worry. This isn’t transitioning into a Mommy blog. Heck no. But I figured I’d let all of you know why I’ve once again been gone. The upshot is Jason is giving me an incredible gift in a few hours every Sunday to myself. He takes the baby to visit his mom, and I double-down on re-researching, re-editing and rewriting Francesco Fortunato.

I gave birth to one baby girl in 2013. Let’s see if I can give another “baby” life in 2014.

Photo credit: Jason Malmont

My brother-in-law has so very kindly taken a full read of my manuscript and in his writer’s opinion, there is a story there. And by story, he means something that could be commercially viable.

Well, that’s a relief! Seriously. It is. What a person thinks is interesting, because it’s about their family or something they’re passionate about, doesn’t necessarily translate to dollars in the bank for a book agent.

My dialogue is good. But, I need structure to my story. There are some essential pieces of the book that need to be reworked. I change tenses (oops, such a bad habit of mine) and a few other things are unclear.

So, it’s back to the drawing board. But at least I know where to begin! It’s not a wholesale rewrite, but I do have to spend some heavy editing time.

The only way out is through. Here I go…

In the meantime, this song is running through my head. As always, Paul Simon inspires.

 While I wait for notes on my draft, I started to think about all the things I’ve found over the last few years. About the opinions I’ve formed and the decisions I made to write my book.

The first choice I made, as I decided to truly pursue publication, is to make the book a fictional account, based on Phil’s life, rather than a straight non-fiction book.

The reason is mostly because the journalist in me won’t let me commit to paper what I don’t know for fact. I don’t know, any more than the jury in Allegheny County 80 years ago, who started that fire. Or if it was arson at all. I don’t truly, fully know who the “bad” uncle was and the dangling mystery of Phil and Joe’s possible time in Ohio made it impossible for me to say “this is what happened.” I don’t know if Mike Natale was a man caught in a tragic circumstance or if he was a heartless brute.

So, I turn to fiction. The name of my book, at the moment, is “Francesco Fortunato.”

The name, interestingly enough, is one linked to Phil’s family many, many generations ago. For some of my regular readers, using Phil’s father’s first name for the boy who is based on Phil is confusing. But let me tell you, I could not get over the beauty of that name. Fortunato. It means fortunate or lucky. And Phil (Francesco, aka Frankie) was extremely, extremely lucky. The title could almost be “Francesco, Fortunato.”

As I said before, there were so many times during my writing where I felt as if what I was “making up” wasn’t really made up at all. Whether it was just a few good guesses based on lots of research, facts backing up the details, or something else, I feel I’ve done enough work to write knowledgeably.

But there were things I just didn’t know, and so I had to make choices. And the biggest choice of all involved the fire. I guess if it ever makes print, you’ll know how I decided. But a literary twist and an actual life are two different things.

For all the amazing, life-changing information I’ve found during my research, I have to constantly remind myself that these were real human beings. Even Grandpa. Even though he’s ‘mine,’ his life belonged to him. And my perception of it, especially because it’s been found via documents and historic records, is just that. Mine. They might be the same, but they might not.

It goes double for the people whose lives intersected with my family’s — especially someone like Marion.

I’ve tried to stick with the provable facts. But I’ve also taken some pretty large liberties. That’s fiction. Heck, that’s why finding the transcript of the Coroner’s Inquest is so important to me. If I can read the words of the testimony, I might know the truth more deeply. That truth might once again wildly shift my perception of all the characters in this drama.

The characters in the book, therefore, have their roots in my history, but are their own creations.

It may never see the light of day, but I’ve finished the first draft of my book. If you give a journalist a deadline … I may not be a real journalist anymore, but a public promise to write is a pretty strong motivator.

I just sent it over to my brother-in-law, Paul Malmont, for his review. By the way, if you’re interested in pulp fiction, or Jack London, I’d highly recommend Paul’s books: “The Chinatown Death Cloud Peril”, “Jack London in Paradise” and “The Amazing, The Astounding and The Unknown.”