Alabama Alligators and Bolivian Bats

By Darvell Hunt

I made fun of a popular children's book writer and got a signed copy of one of his books as a prize. Talk about positive reinforcement for bad behavior!

It was all in good fun, though. And even children's book writer Rick Walton was present and joined in with the laughter.

Last week I attended the weeklong "BYU Writing and Illustrating for Young Readers Workshop." All those who attended could participate in a daily writing contest on four of the five days and I was awarded second place on Tuesday. I'd thought I'd post my winning entry here on the blog.

The contest assignment was to write a 300-word scene putting two writing conference faculty members into an elevator with a wandless Harry Potter. Now before you read this, I should tell you that I chose to write about novelist Martine Leavitt and children's book writer Rick Walton. Martine has won awards for writing young adult novels about homeless boys in Canada and Rick is a prolific children's book writer who is known for his goofy children's stories.

Here's my contest entry, entitled Alabama Alligators and Bolivian Bats. It doesn't bother me that it doesn't make a lot of sense, because, hey, it's humor!

Alabama Alligators and Bolivian Bats
By Darvell Hunt

“Hello, little boy, are you lost?” asked Martine Leavitt.

“My name’s Harry Potter,” said the boy.

“Harry Potter, scary squatter, stuck in the elevator and wants some water,” Rick Walton said and giggled.

“Water? No, not water,” Harry said. “I need my wand. I seem to have lost it.”

“You’re lost? I knew it!” Martine said. “Where do you live, Harry? Can I help you find your way home?”

“Home?” Rick’s eyes brightened and a big grin spread across his face. He pulled a pen and pad from his back pocket and began scribbling.

“No, I’m okay,” Harry said. “But if I had my wand, I could get us out of this elevator.”

“Let’s see, Alabama Alligators, Bolivian Bats,” Rick chanted as he wrote.

“You want to get out of here?” asked Martine. “Are you running away?”

“California Crickets, you thought I’d say cats!”

“Away from the Dursleys? Yeah, I’d love to run away from them.”

“Dogs from Dover Delaware, Elephants from . . . uh, Efrica.”

“Oh, you mustn’t run away, Harry!” Martine said and then looked at Rick. “Elephants from Efrica?”

“First draft. My editor’ll fix it,” he said. “Um, now then, Floridian Frogs and Gophers from Ghana.”

“You ignore him, Harry,” Martine said. “He’s just a silly children’s writer.”

“Silly me, silly you, Harry’s gonna live in a great a big shoe!”

“Shoes? Oh, Harry, do you need new shoes?” Martine asked.

“No, I don’t need new shoes, I need my wand! Sheesh. I think Snape might have taken it.”

“Um, no, Saskatchewan Snakes and Tibetan Tigers won’t come until, oh, maybe page six,” Rick said.

“Oh, yes, we’re moving again!” Harry said with a cheer. “Boy, I’ve gone face-to-face with Voldemort, but you real-life muggles sure scare the living bejeebies out of me!”

Visiting Oz

By C.L. Beck
© 2007

Thanks to Shirley Bahlmann, (who’s a talented writer and a sweetheart of a friend) I was given a one day opportunity last week to attend the BYU writers' workshop. I felt like I’d glimpsed Oz and had hobnobbed with my fellow wizards. Except I was in Provo. And they were writers.

But you get my drift … I was untouchable!

Then I went to my mailbox and was greeted with rejections. Four. Count them … four rejections. Form letters without even a personalized note among them.

Rejections, bah! I laugh in their face.

Dorothy Gale, of Kansas, kept going until she was clicking her ruby slippers to go home. I'm sure I can do the same. A glimpse of Oz isn't enough. I plan to stand inside its hallowed halls—despite the fact that my ruby slippers are actually turquoise flip-flops and Toto is a Welsh Corgi who's eaten a plastic munchkin and just thrown up on my carpet.

If, like me, you’ve recently been treated to a few rejections, keep your focus on Oz. And when the wicked witch’s monkey grabs you by the hair and tries to steal your courage, remember this quote:

“The line between failure and success is so fine that we scarcely know when we pass it; so fine that we are often on the line and do not know it. Many a person has given up at a time when a little more effort, a little more patience would have achieved success. As the tide goes all the way out, so too does it come all the way in. Prospects may seem darkest when really they are on the turn. A little more persistence and effort can turn a hopeless failure into a glorious success. There is no failure except in no longer trying. There is no defeat except from within, no really insurmountable barrier save our own inherent weakness of purpose.”
(Quoted from Bits and Pieces on Persistence by Rob Gilbert, Pg. 17).

Fifty-Dollar Sentences

By Keith Fisher

“When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands . . .” These words from the Declaration of Independence are remembered for lofty ideals. They are used as a symbol of freedom by millions.

Basically, it says that sometimes people need to change their ties to other people or in this case, a king.

You may ask, “Why didn’t the author just come out and say it?” Because it was written during a time when people labored over the right words to use in a mere letter to loved ones. Writing was an art form. It called upon the reader to examine the beauty of the written word.

Thomas Jefferson was commissioned by the Continental Congress to draft a document that spelled out their intentions and provided a symbol that rallied a people who would soon be called into war. The Declaration (with a few changes from Jefferson's editors) was the result of his labor.

Life is different today. With all the competing media, the average readers don’t have time to decipher magnificent writing that makes them think. They like plain English they can read quickly.

With role models like Jefferson, Dickens, Whitman, Shakespeare, and others, it’s easy to fall into the trap of the literary long-winded. We try to impress our peers with twenty-dollar words and fifty-dollar sentences.

We want to imitate opening lines like, "It was a dark and stormy night", or "It was the best of times; it was the worst of times", and "Oh Captain! My Captain! Our fearful trip is done". These are lofty sentiments that say it all, but if an author of fiction used opening lines like those today, chances are it would not be published.

We must reach into the heart of a reader and grab their attention from the first word. We cannot express ideas that cause the reader to pause and reflect on the beauty of the fifty-dollar sentences.

We are told that if the reader pauses, they will move on, and we have lost our chance to entertain. Therefore we must write words that are familiar, that conjure images quickly processed, making room for that which follows.

David G Woolley, author of the Promised Land series said, “If we do it well we transport the reader to a place just beyond eternity without leaving the Lazy-Boy. It sure ain’t easy but it is doable.” I echo his sentiment, It isn’t easy—but we can do it.

Have you ever taught a 12-year-old Sunday school class? The students tune out the teacher most of the time. There is however, a very small attention window, a short time when you can teach. A teacher must be prepared to fill the window. Writing fiction is like that. The rewards are immense, but oh! How I wish I could write fifty-dollar sentences that waft elevated themes to the heavens.

I'm Going to Be Famous!

by G.Parker

I was taking photographs of the paintings I have done and framed in my home, getting ready for them to be put on my website, and my daughter discovered me. She thought it was a bit strange and asked what I was doing. I told her I was going to be famous, which made her laugh.

After some thought, I realized that wasn't quite what I meant, and not a very humble approach. What I meant to say was that I'm going to be well known, (someday) and I want people to be able to see my work in hopes of seeking my skills or talents. I figured the best way to do that was create a website.

What I didn't realize was how picky I am, or how difficult it is to do that. I've got a site all set up (thanks to suggestions from my fellow bloggers) but I've been stalled for two weeks, realizing that I need examples and that it's going to take more work than just putting a site out there with my name on it.

Kind of like writing a book. It takes more work than putting words together, slapping on a cover, and signing your name to it. It needs to be something you are proud of -- that you would be happy to show anyone. Otherwise, it would be rather embarrassing -- "Oh - that, well, you really don't want to look at it, I didn't get to have any say on the cover, and the editing didn't go well, and..."

Meanwhile, I'm working on the writing and painting. It's a frustrating process, because there simply aren't enough hours in the day. But, I would recommend to all inspiring authors to prepare a site much like my fellow writers and bloggers have. They were an inspiration to me and I'm thankful to be able to rub elbows with them.

I just hope some of their skill rubs off on me.

Procrastination Prevention

By Nichole Giles

I’m having one of those crazy-mixed-up-busy-beyond-comprehension weeks. One of the reasons for this is due to my attendance at a writing workshop at BYU. I am learning a lot, and am filling my veins full of great ideas and inspiration. In the meantime, I’ve been so focused on my classes that I haven’t had time to write a deeply thoughtful blog.

So here is your inspiration for the week taken straight from The Pocket Muse: Endless Inspiration by Monica Wood.

“Follow-up Notice From the Department of Procrastination Prevention.”

Set your screen saver to say one of the following phrases after thirty seconds of inactivity.

“Don’t get up.”
“Remember why you do this.”
“This thing won’t finish itself.”
“What are you waiting for?”

Now, plant your behind in a chair. Happy writing!

(If you can think of another great phrase, feel free to share!)

Never Say Never

By Connie S. Hall

Everyone loves a parade. That is everyone except my husband. If there is a parade, it normally kicks off a celebration. They liven up the community, and generate goodwill. I think they attract people the same as flowers attract bees.

My father looked forward to them every year. As a child I can remember watching him and several scouts ride in the back of a truck flipping pancakes during the July 4th Parade in Provo. As a teenager, I did somersaults down the same street. The thing I remember most about that is how hot the asphalt was.

Many years before camping overnight became popular along the parade route, you would see my father sitting in a chair saving his family a seat for the fun event on July 24. I cherish the long discussions we had sitting up all night. By morning, I was too tired to watch. Now, I’m one of those crazy people camping out. This year as I wait I’m going to write. I’ve started a book about parades and sure wish I had been keeping notes. Since I didn’t, I have to rely on my bad memory.

Several years ago, our stake assigned me to supervise the building of a float for the Days of ’47 Parade in Salt Lake City, Utah. After it was over I said, “No one should ever have to build more than one float in a lifetime.”

That is still the way I feel about it, but others don’t agree. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints rotates the assignment yearly to various stakes to join in this fun event. Every five or six years if you live in the Salt Lake valley, it comes back to you.

They also have each stake participate in a youth parade. I have helped with this smaller one many times and one year we built the float in my yard. There was brown and green paint on the driveway for years. I didn’t know then that paint was good, it’s better than glitter hanging around forever. After working on a big float, we had a sparkly yard. Whenever I pulled weeds there was another shiny little speck. The big lesson I learned is never do it in your own yard.

Once you have experience, the local church leaders don’t let you off the hook. I honestly thought I would never have to help with anything like this ever again. In my wildest dreams I was sure they wouldn’t ask me to do this another time. I told them, “I never want to do that again.”

They dissolved our stake and now I belong to a new stake. My reputation followed me, and because I said I would never build another float, when the assignment came, they asked me to be co-chair and help. I guess to our stake president that made sense. My parents taught me when I was young that I should do all the things my leaders asked me to do and never say no. Being second-in-command was as hard as when I was in charge. There was as much work, but you didn’t have to make the final decision.

Building a float is a good experience, but it’s also a difficult undertaking. Far too often people sit back and let everyone else do all the work. One thing I can say is the friendships developed while undertaking something this big are lasting. Those who worked with me side-by-side are the best. They will always have a place in my heart.

Guess what? I’m building another float. This year I’m helping my community. My parents are to blame again because they taught me you should always serve those in your neighborhood. I may have to find another home because my husband isn’t happy about this. I’m not worried, my mother has an extra bed, and there is a couch at my work.

I think this new adventure will help me with the book I’m writing. My mother says, “I’ll bet your father is up in heaven clapping his hands, and jumping up and down because he loved parades. He’ll be glad you are doing this.” After this comment how can I say NO?

Talent and Persistence

By C.L. Beck
© 2007

There’s a little booklet that’s fun to read. It’s called Bits and Pieces and has inspirational sayings, quotations and short, short stories. I’m sure I enjoy it for the inspiration, but also because I can relate to the name. That’s me—falling apart in bits and pieces.

The issue I’ve been mulling is about persistence. So many times as writers we think we have to be enormously talented in order to succeed, and when the going gets tough, we give up. Because we get rejection after rejection, we think our writing is worthless and that we can’t put two sentences together that make sense.

I’ve heard it said that anyone who writes and persists long enough will eventually get published. I think that’s probably true, as long as we view the rejections as a tool to improve our writing.

The hard part about knowing we’ll eventually get published is that “eventually” drives us crazy. Exactly how long is “eventually”? Two months? A year? All of us would keep going if we knew a fat contract would arrive in two months. Most of us could keep going for a year. Unfortunately, no one I know owns a crystal ball, a seer stone, or even a magic eight ball to tell the future. And so we’re stuck waiting and trying not to give up.

For those who’ve just gotten their first, fifteenth or fiftieth rejection, here’s a quote to make you feel better.

“I believe that most people place an undue influence on talent. I don’t doubt that it exists, but talent is essentially a potential for something. The issue really is not talent as an independent element, but talent in relationship to will, desire, and persistence. Talent without those things vanishes and even modest talent with those characteristics grows.”
~ MILTON GLASER, Graphic artist
(Quoted from Bits and Pieces on Persistence by Rob Gilbert, Pg. 10).

If today is one of those days where you’ve told yourself you’re crazy to think you’ll ever get anything published, take the quote and tape it to your computer screen. Then finish that work in progress and mail it off. Then mail off another.

Modest talent may be the door to publication, but persistence is the key that turns the lock.

Patching the Holes in a Leaky Brain

By Keith Fisher

Have you ever tried to put air in the tires of an old bicycle that hasn’t been used for a long time? Most often they won’t hold air. It leaks out in many places. The same thing happens when you take an old brain and try to input new information into categories for later retrieval.

In the past, I suggested you try working on more than one project at a time. The idea was to keep writing while you work through a story problem, and return to the main project when the problem is cleared up. The method worked, because it allowed me the luxury of being able to choose which project to work on that day. The system even spilled over into research.

Lately however, the futility of my strategy hit me over the head and caused me to rethink.

I’ve been reading a lot of suspense lately, and I noticed it showed up in my writing. While editing a contemporary novel, I caught myself adding mystery to the exposition. This was a mistake because although I wrote suspense into it, this novel is not supposed to be a mystery.

In like manner, after reading High Stakes by Jennie Hansen and many other western novels, I found myself adding nineteenth century wisdom, and western dialog to a novel set in present day New York City.

One of my projects is set in mid-nineteenth century-California. While working on it, I found myself foreshadowing events that would give the reader a clue to solving a mystery that I never intended to write into the book.

Like the bicycle tire, my brain is leaking. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, some stories could use a shakeup to make them better. But it can also confuse a reader and make me scrap 40,000 words in order to re-write the project I have already drafted to conclusion. Seems counterproductive to me.

Another symptom of brain leakage, was when I forgot the last name of my protagonist and started calling him by the name of a character in another book. The other day I had to skim back over 200 pages to find out whether or not I had established a certain fact vital to the story. Have you ever forgotten if she had green or blue eyes? With brain leakage this happens frequently.

I’ve decided to admit my defeat. I’ll still be working on more than one project at a time, but I’ll divide my projects by genre and stick to it. I think I’m also going to be selective about what I read during the time I’m working on a certain project, and I need to update my fact sheets, character profiles, and timeline outlines.

I’ll talk about those next week and keep you abreast of how my plan is working. In the meantime, just scratch a rough spot near the hole and let the rubber cement set a little before sticking the patch over the leak . . . (If only brains were like bicycle tires).

What Would You Do?

by G.Parker

I was asked a question the other day that kind of stumped me. The person asked if I could do anything that I knew was going to be successful, what would I do?

My first thought was, gee, I'm already writing and painting - success is only a matter of time. What would I do?

She was waiting for an answer, so I said the next thing that came to mind and we ended up talking about restaurants. But, it got me thinking, and I decided it would make a good blog.

So many times we start something with the hope that we'll succeed, but we never know. The point of her question was an article that stated failure is an OPTION -- not a guaranteed outcome, just as success is an option. It all depends on how we approach it and what we do to reach it.

It also depends on what you consider success and what that word means to you. Does it mean a bigger house? A fancy car? Vacations around the world? Good kids that make a good life for themselves? A peaceful and happy home where everyone loves to be? A published book? Or a national best seller?

My first desire when I started writing was to be published before I reached 40. I don't think I knew anything about national best sellers, to me it was just being published -- to be able to pick up a book and have my name on the cover. Now that I'm past that figure and not published as a writer, I have a little panicky feeling. I've missed my goal, I'm not successful, what do I do?

However; like I said before, I still feel I'm going to be successful -- it's just a matter of time. It depends on the amount of time I'm willing to spend to get there, and how diligent I am in reaching my goal.

How about you? What would you be willing to do?

Letting Go

By Nichole Giles

We sold four puppies yesterday. They are beautiful puppies, playful and fun loving, each with his or her own personality. In the seven weeks since they were born, my family and I have become attached to those little guys.

I was present as each one of them was born. My husband, Gary, and I put each of them to their mother’s breast for the first time. We have held them, and loved them, and watched them grow into the most adorable little fur-balls on the planet. (I am in no way biased.) But we have to let them go.

That’s the trouble with puppies. It has been a wonderful experience for us, but as much as we love them, we can’t keep them all. Aside from the fact that the city ordinances only allow for two dogs per owner, I can’t even imagine the cost of feeding nine dogs on a permanent basis. And can you imagine the destruction in my beautiful back yard? Oh, my poor, poor garden! So, we find them good, loving homes, say goodbye, and hope against hope that we are sending them to a life filled with bones and chew-toys on a five-acre farm.

It’s a tough concept to learn. But I’m working on it.

This same concept can be applied to our work as writers. An idea is born, and we nurse it, hold it, love it, and watch it grow into something we never imagined we could produce. (And never, are we biased.) But then the day comes when we are forced to find our work a decent and loving home. We send it out into the world, hoping against hope that we are sending this story (or article, or book) to the right editor, who will give it the attention it deserves, with a few editing marks and beautiful artwork.

That’s the trouble with writing. Your story won’t be read if you don’t send it. As much as you love each story, you can’t keep them all. Aside from the fact that it is unfair to your talent and craft for you to horde your work, you’d run out of filing space. Your work would eventually cover your desk, and then your kitchen counter, and pretty soon every surface in your house would be filled with works of wonder and beauty that only you (and maybe a few select others) have seen.

As we have had to give up our puppies, so must a writer give up his or her pages. Love them, stroke them, and kiss them goodbye, then put them in the mail. Don’t worry, you’ll feel better as soon as you go to the bank and cash that publisher’s check.

It’s a tough concept to learn. But we’re working on it!

Are You Sure You Want to Clean Your Room?

By Connie S. Hall

I almost hate myself. My computer office at home is so clean I don’t want to enter its doors again or I might mess it up. Being this organized is ridiculous. How will I be able to work with nothing to look at?

My plans of working in the yard on Saturday and Monday of the Memorial weekend ended abruptly when I had to have an ingrown toenail removed on Friday. Saturday I did what I was supposed to do. Nothing. Sunday afternoon we delivered the many bouquets of flowers to all the graves. Monday, what shall I do? An idea hit. I could keep my foot out of the way while I cleaned the cluttered room. It wasn’t dirty, just messy with many piles of papers scattered all over in neat stacks. I even knew what was in each pile. Anyone that knows me well knows filing is at the bottom of my list of things to do. I hate the job and it’s always the last thing done.

Now that the room is clean, I have another problem. Among the several papers that I needed to file were notes from conferences and on-line helps suggested to me by other people. The titles include:

1. The 3 Most Common Mistakes Made When Writing Articles.
2. Article Writing Mistakes – 7 To Avoid.
3. 7 Formulas for Writing Articles That Get Read!
4. Top 7 Mistakes Writers Make and What To Do About Them.
5. 12 Tips For Writing Articles On The Internet.
6. 6 Tips For Better Writing.
7. 10 Tips For Better Writing.
8. 10 Tips For Writing Success.
9. Humorous Reminders of Common Writing Mistakes.

With all this good information, I should find something to help me, but instead I became discouraged and quit reading. To me it seems they should offer similar information, but do they? No, they’re all different. Which ones do you listen to and read? If I took time to read all of these when would I have time to write, and how would I have time to keep a clean room?

Keep on Going

By C.L. Beck
© 2007

The other day I was perusing a booklet in my favorite reading room, the library—also known in my house as the powder room. Or, to be less politically correct, the bathroom.

Ah-ha, the stuff in this booklet would make great information to put in a blog, I thought, glancing through it.

I sat down on Friday to write about what I'd read, thinking the theme should travel a serious, grown-up track. The title of “Persistence” came to me, but since that was the name of the booklet, I vetoed it. After scratching my head and pondering for a bit, a new title popped into my brain—“Keep on Going”.

It seemed logical. It seemed reasonable. But what I didn’t know was that after hearing the word "bathroom", the naughty, inner child that hides in my mind had suggested it.

My goal was to write about inspirational, lofty ideas. The wayward kid wanted to tell you about an incident that happened when I was young.

Honest, I tried to shoo that naughty child away, but you know how the voices in your head refuse to cooperate. Especially the ones that are only nine years old. It appears you’re stuck hearing the story, whether I want you to or not.

When I was a kid and would see my dad striding with purpose through the hallway, I’d always say, “Where are you going?”

He’d reply, “To the library.” It seemed so unfair that he was going without me.

One day when he gave his usual answer, I begged, “Can I go, too?”

My dad laughed and said, “Don’t you know what the library is?”

“Sure, it’s the place where you check out books,” I replied, wondering why that was funny.

“No, it’s another name for the bathroom.”

I certainly did not want to accompany him there. Even if he did have a book in his hand.

The moral of the story is that words can have dual meaning, and as writers we have to be aware of not only their denotation but also the connotation. In addition, bear in mind cultural nuances, or our words may tell something we never intended.

That application of the “library tale” may not be what my inner child thought was going to come from this blog—I suspect her style is to only tell cute anecdotes and dabble in mischievous word plays to entertain the reader—but hey, I’m the writer and for once I’ve taken things where they need to go.

Oops, “need to go”. Okay, maybe she won after all.

Until Then, She Prays

By Keith Fisher

I’m sure you’ve heard it said that behind every successful man—there is a good woman. To apply it to OUR endeavor we could say: Behind every successful author—there is a man or woman who believes. The person who has read every bad sentence ever written, but is still proud. The person who hopes for, weeps for, and prays for the writer in their life.

This is especially true of the authors of LDS fiction. Can you imagine knowing there will probably never be a large return on the investment—but supporting it anyway?

I would like to pay tribute to the person behind the author. To that end, I changed the lyrics of a song written by Steve Gibb and recorded a few years ago by Kenny Rogers. Please excuse the bad poetry but I didn’t have much time.

While she lays sleeping,
I stay up late at night to write a thought
but sometimes it’s so hard to fix a plot
It’s good when I finally get it said, and I go to bed

While she lays dreaming,
I stumble to the kitchen for a bite
Then I think of my protagonist and his plight
Just waiting for me like a secret friend, and there’s no end

While she lays snoring
I kneel beside the bed to say my prayers
She stirs, and she casts away my cares
with a goodnight kiss, she asks about the story, the pain and the glory

While she lays waiting,
I get back up and wander down the hall
The muse must be answered when it calls
She turns over on the bed to go to sleep, she starts to weep

But she believes in me, she knows my dreams are in the heart of me, She knows that maybe on that special night, when my prose is right . . . until then, she prays.

No Imagination

By G.Parker

I discovered the other day, that my imagination is limited. One would think that, being a writer, I would have an unlimited imagination. This is true when I'm writing, but is less so when I'm painting or cooking.

When cooking, it's a whole new ball game. What gets me interested in making a recipe is the big, bright colored photographs. I had the choice a month or two ago between two cooking magazines: Cooking Light and Cooks Illustrated.

Cooks Illustrated was several dollars more than Cooking Light. However, Cooking Light has loads of advertising. I showed my husband the difference and he pointed out that for one magazine I was paying for quality, the other I was getting less recipes and more advertising. Which one has more value? Less Advertising? He was all for me getting the Cooks Illustrated one. I chose Cooking Light.

Why? Just for the pictures.

The Cooks Illustrated felt too much like a text book for a high school cooking class, while Cooking Light is a glorious celebration of food. It's pathetic. I'd rather pay for advertising than information so that I can see a picture of what I’m fixing my family.

I'm willing to try new recipes, but I'm more inclined if they have a big shiny picture that makes my mouth water.

I guess that's what we are supposed to work toward with writing, making a picture in the reader's mind that makes them feel what we are portraying...but unfortunately, it doesn't work the other way around for me.

I do make a darn good pasta salad, our favorite summer meal.

And, since it was suggested, I've included my recipe. (I cook for 8, so the recipe is large.) Have a good one!

Parker Pasta Salad

3 to 4 pkgs pasta (I use multi colored or shell) cooked till tender, drained and cooled
1/2 onion, chopped fine
1 can sliced olives
1 pkg frozen imitation crab thawed and chopped(or any kind of meat you prefer such as salad shrimp, grilled chicken, etc.)
2/3 to 1 lb cheddar cheese cut into small chuncks
2 lb bags of frozen veggies (broccoli, peas and carrots, whatever is your favorite)
OR
1 lg red bell pepper chopped
1 lg green bell pepper chopped
1 lg golden bell pepper chopped
1/2 to 1 C mayo (depending on how moist you like your salads - add till texture is smooth)
1/2 C grated Parmesan cheese (optional)
seasoning to taste - I use a garlic pepper blend that I sprinkle on after everything is mixed.

After noodles are drained and cooled down, mix everything together in a large bowl, adding mayo last. Make sure to stir all the way to the bottom so that each item is coated. Tastes best if refrigerated a good hour or two before eating, but that doesn't happen often at my house.

Serves 9, 2 or 3 servings each

Writing on the Wall

By Nichole Giles

Not long ago, I made an important discovery. I am truly a writer. I know this because I finally dreamed an entire plot from start to finish. I’ve probably dreamed plots before, but until I started writing, I never thought to write them down.

This time I knew. Jumping out of bed, I grabbed a pen and my trusty notebook, and scribbled furiously until I had three pages of chicken-scratched notes. I kept my notebook handy as I brushed my teeth and put on my makeup, and every two or three minutes, I’d add another thought, idea, or memory to these pages.

Later that day, when I had time to boot up my laptop, I created a file for this dream idea—complete with title—and wrote a more in-depth summary of the things I had dreamed.

That day, I was grateful to have my notebook and a pen near my bed. It saved me what might have been a great deal of sadness over a lost story.

In a recent blog, Connie Hall wondered about the solution for writers whose best ideas regularly occur when they are in the shower or otherwise indisposed. In our discussion about this topic, I came up with a few suggestions:

1. Have your spouse sit outside your shower curtain/door with your notebook, taking notes while you soap up.
2. Be the first to invent a waterproof digital recorder that sticks to your shower wall.
3. Keep a supply of washable markers in your soap dish. When an idea strikes, the shower wall becomes your blank page.

These suggestions are designed to preserve your ideas as they occur. Remember to transfer your idea to paper as soon as you are dry. Just don’t tell your kids you’ve developed a habit of writing on the shower wall.

Now, if only I could think of a way to make time last longer…

A Quick Shower

By Connie S. Hall

Many of you complain that the only time you get a good idea is when you are in the shower. Well, it’s a matter of fact, great ideas strike while in the shower. It’s supposed to work that way. Warm water running over your body stimulates the outer layer of your skin releasing molecules that talk to your nerve endings, which triggers brain activity.

Most writers don’t ever get a good idea at a convenient time. If that happened, it would be too easy. We should all realize ideas hit our brain when we are not prepared. I have come up with a few solutions.

I know I will get a good idea when I’m almost asleep so I keep paper, pencil, and a flashlight nearby. If it’s a long thought I simply get out of bed, and grab my alpha-smart to type away. Otherwise, come morning I will kick myself, because the thought will simply vanish. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother going to bed because the characters in my head don’t let me rest.

I always carry a supply of paper and pens in my purse and car. Yes, many times during a day people honk at me, but I can’t let the idea fly out of my head. Everywhere I go I diligently write away. People must think I’m taking minutes in all the meetings I attend. Yeah, sometimes they catch me, especially if I supposed to be taking charge.

No, I don’t have an easy answer for the shower problem. I definitely don’t have any water proof paper, or idea what to do, except hurry. Sometimes I refuse to let the ideas flow because I want to enjoy the warmth of the water as it runs down my back. Other times I’m out of there and have a pen in my hand almost before I’m dry. I bet you thought I had a good idea, but not this time.

The Facts of Life

By Darvell Hunt

Interesting facts make wonderful details for interesting stories. So what if you can’t think of any useful facts to add to your current story? Probe your own life and see what you find. Examine your weirdness. The facts from your own life just might add the needed detail to your stories.

At one point in the past, I have been tagged by a fellow blogger to write five things that most people likely do not know about me. Here are the first five that came to my head (and which may end up, or have already ended up, in my stories):

1. The doctor who delivered me was killed in a plane crash before my parents had fully paid their medical bill. As such, the bill for my birth has never been completely paid.

2. I first got on the Internet in 1986, long before most people knew what it was or even what email was. I first got on the World Wide Web in 1993. The World Wide Web was a graphical interface layered on top of the text-based Internet and was a strange, new thing to me at the time. At this point I had not even heard of a man named Al Gore.

3. I am ambidextrous. I can do most things with either hand. For some things I prefer the right hand, for other things I prefer the left hand. I believe I am one of the few people who reverse the mouse buttons on a computer because I use my left hand for the mouse, but am familiar with using it with the right hand. Strangely, from what I’ve seen, most left-handed people do not swap the buttons.

4. I suffer from a from of epilepsy called “Simple Partial Seizures.” During one of these episodes, I am in complete control of myself and people watching me usually have no indication that something is going on, except that I may seem a bit irritable. My sense of touch and hearing is exaggerated and my sense of time is sped up. I’ve never been on drugs, but I’ve imagined that a drug trip may be similar to this. For some reason—probably just a coincidence—the main character of my novel, The Kumina Man, also suffers from this condition.

5. I grew up on my dad’s share of the original homesteaded farm of my great-great-grandfather, who received the land from the homestead lottery in 1906. The land was stolen from the Ute Indian Reservation at the time, as more land was needed for settling homesteaders. My great-great-grandmother died across the street from where I grew up, having been gored by a bull.

Hmm, I think I see some ideas forming for an upcoming story coming from these “facts of life.”

Send Someone Up with a Shoe

By C.L. Beck
© 2007

It was six inches long, with wiggly antennae. We were on vacation, in a hotel. Russ was asleep with a cold, and I was in a stand-off with Mother Nature.

“Russ, get up. There’s a giant bug.”

“Squash it,” Russ mumbled.

Squash it? Its itty-bitty eyes were tracking my every move!

“We’re in a five-star hotel. We shouldn’t have to squish anything.” Then my scientific nature kicked in. “What kind of bug is that?” I squinted. The bug would have to have been the size of the Empire State building for me to identify it without my glasses. But if I could get a little closer, that might help. I crept forward and it scurried under the sofa—but not before I had a chance to identify it and scream, “Aack!”

Russ snored and I realized a man who was sick enough to sleep through my screaming really needed his rest.

“Russ, wake up. It’s a disgusting cockroach. What should we do?”

What I had in mind was calling the bomb squad to roust the bug. Russ opened his blurry eyes and said, “Ignore it and go to sleep.”

“Who in their right mind can sleep with a monster cockroach in their room?”

“I can,” Russ said. He rolled over and started snoring. What had happened to the man who promised at the alter to love, cherish, and defend me from killer bugs?

Over my years of schooling, I’ve learned many things about cockroaches. Things a person should never have to know and that I won’t repeat because they’ll just freak you out. But the most important piece of knowledge was gained living in an apartment in Maryland. If you turn out the lights, cockroaches creep from their hiding places. When the lights are turned back on, some of them fly at you.

I flicked off the light, then flipped it back on. The bug had come out of hiding and was staring at me from the floor, daring me to eliminate it.

Grabbing a sandal, I shrieked and chased it around the room. It scuttled behind the sofa, along the wall, behind the drapes, but I kept chasing. I threw another shoe in front to block it, and it stopped next to our bed. “Die, you lousy bug!” I yelled, bringing the sandal down.

Russ leaned up on one elbow and in a sleep-muffled voice said, “Did you get it?”

I had no clue. Either it was under my shoe or under our bed. And if it was under my shoe, was it dead? I tilted the shoe. The bug waved its antennae at me. I pushed down hard and it made a sound that can only be described as … well, you don’t want to know what it sounded like, but let me say it was now dead.

The next morning, I suggested we call the management and inform them of the cockroach. Russ waved the hotel information card. “This says we’re in a tropical area and we might see tropical bugs. If so, we’re supposed to call the front desk and they’ll be happy to take care of the problem.”

The management wasn’t fooling me. I knew what that meant. They’d send someone up with a shoe.

Learning From a Dog

By Keith Fisher

It’s the old story of a boy and his dog. As in all stories of this type, the boy died . . .uh . . . I mean the dog died. These stories are usually sad, but there’s always a final scene when your breaking heart is mended, there is solace.

Although in the perennial story, when the loyal majestic dog is killed defending its master, there are puppies, and the protagonists can find consolation in knowing that there will be another dog.


When I was a boy I was lucky to have such a dog. Her name was Peggy and she was a good companion. When I slept outside, she kept my feet warm inside my sleeping bag. She didn’t die heroically saving me; she just died. I’ve had many dogs since, but none were quite the same as Peggy.

I was about nine when she died, and I was heartbroken. I made a headstone; I made a coffin. We had a family funeral and we prayed we could see Peggy again in heaven. Because of my loss, my parents purchased a used book titled: All Dogs Go to Heaven by Beth Brown. Published in 1944 by F. Fell—New York. It’s an interesting novel told from the dog’s point of view, but it’s not cheesy like the Don Bluth animated film.

Even though I intended to read it, I discovered it was fiction and therefore it couldn’t provide real answers to my questions. Whatever the reason, I never discarded the book.

While moving books from shelf to shelf the other day, I came across it. My curiosity was piqued so I set down to read. I was delighted to find a human protagonist who was a struggling writer. In the back of the book, on two pages in my nine-year-old handwriting, was a note explaining my feelings about my dog and a desire to see her again.

My discovery was made more poignant because I had written so many large words. I remembered my mother’s story about my first or second grade teacher telling her that I could carry on adult conversations. It wasn’t an epiphany, but I realized (as others before me), I must have been a writer before I was born. It seems I’ve spent my life unlearning what I already knew.

So, here I am, some forty-or-so years later, learning about life from a dog who died years ago, gleaning encouragement and still hoping of seeing her again. Who knows, maybe she might teach me how to punctuate sentences and stop using adverbs, or she can teach me about em-dashes VS semi-colons. It wouldn’t be teaching an old dog new tricks. It would be helping me remember what I once knew.

My Favorite Teacher

by G.Parker

This time of year makes me think back to when I was in school, anticipating the glorious time of summer vacation. I teach in an elementary school, but I'm not coming back next year, so this is kind of a bittersweet farewell thought. I look at these kids and I wonder where they are going to be in 10 years. What are they going to be doing?

I was reading someone's thoughts on how they used to skip classes in high school, and it made me think about my high school years. I was an average student. I didn't get in trouble, I didn't outshine anyone else--I was just there. So in some ways that's good, but in other ways, it's bad. (that's for another blog though.)

My favorite teacher was my creative writing teacher (big surprise, right?) I don't remember his name -- I don't even remember what he looked like. But I remember that he encouraged us to write. Simply to just put our thoughts down on paper. We got to count anything for the word count--word count was our grade. Sometimes he would give us a sentence and we had to write a paragraph continuing that thought, but usually, it was just our own imagination being put on paper.

This was the time period where I started doing most of my writing. I wrote two or three stories--nothing that anyone will EVER read fortunately--and he read almost all of them. He never said anything like "This is trash - this isn't worth my time - where did you get that dumb idea," etc. He was the best first critic anyone could have. I still have some of my papers from his class, simply because they were something someone had thought had worth.

When I moved to Utah , and suddenly had a younger sister (my prayers had been answered!) she used to motivate me by encouraging me to write smaller. I don't remember why, looking back on it, but I do remember her challenging me to see how small I could get the writing. I looked at getting a thousand words on a lined piece of paper as a personal challenge. It didn't seem to really matter what I was writing, only that I filled the paper. Her reward? A large chewy Sweet Tart. Yum! Now, I would insist on something chocolate... and I still have some of those pages--it's wild to think I could get it that small!

Now that I'm all grown up (when did that happen?) and I use a computer instead of paper, I can't use that kind of challenge. Not only would I not be able to SEE it (honey, where are my reading glasses?) but no one else would either. Funny how my challenge is still word count, but it's more than that. It's the whole picture. It's the bigger picture, actually--I want to see something published.

So, while I don't worry about the size of the print, or how pretty it looks, I'm still worried about what someone thinks of it. I'm fortunate that my hubby likes my writing, though he isn't as laid back as my writing teacher was - he'll tell me if he thinks something needs work. And it usually does.

Aim For a Scab

By Nichole Giles

Emotion is a wonderful thing, and sometimes it strikes you at the oddest times. My regular readers will know that I am by nature an emotional person, for which I’m glad. That isn’t to say I can’t control my feelings, because every day I am learning how to hold the reins. But I have known people who build walls around their hearts, who have to be stabbed deeply and forcefully before they bleed.

How sad is that?

Our feelings are the driving force behind our writing. Without feeling, how would we ever write anything meaningful? Anything important? And how would we ever be able to connect with our readers on the most basic of levels?

Recently I bought a new CD. I love music as much as writing. For me, music fuels or calms my moods, expresses feelings I am otherwise unable to express, and generally makes me a much happier person. This particular CD is by a group on which I had put a personal ban. A few years ago, members of this group used their fame as a public forum to make disparaging and offensive political comments. The chaos that ensued caused them to further lash out at their fans. It was at that point I swore never to listen to their music again.

But time passes, as it tends to do. And the musicians were forced to mature. There were many consequences to their verbal faux pas. More than three years after the incident, the group produced a comeback CD, which I recently bought. Remember my ban? Out the window. Do you know why? Because I heard a few songs on the radio, and the music produced on this album was so full of passion, so full of pure emotion, that I couldn’t not own it. And since I bought it, I haven’t stopped listening to it, singing along at the top of my lungs and hoping to glean just an ounce of the passion poured into the songs. However much they were loved before, none of the music produced in the past by this group compares to the aching music on their most recent CD.

It hits me right in the heart.

Listening to this album has taught me a valuable lesson. It is by emotion, and through feeling that we are touched. I’ve heard it said that writers slit their wrists and let them bleed onto their pages. Well, I’m not saying we have to go that far. But a few drops of blood here and there can only make your story better.

If you’re not going to aim for the reader’s heart, you could at least aim for a scab. Even people with walls have scabs. It’s all a matter of knowing which scab to pick.

Opposition

By Connie S. Hall

When I write I create a world and many characters. They each receive inner qualities, and their own personality as well as physical appearances.

The characters in my stories need to overcome opposition, and conquer conflict. They are regular people having disagreements, disputes, and struggles. The way they meet these challenges makes them unique. Their lives get complicated the same as yours. Things always get worse before they get better. That’s what it’s all about, it’s life.

This is all similar to the world God created. He made male and female and gave them opposition in all things. 2 Nephi 2:11 – “For it must needs be, that there is an opposition in all things.”

Many things in life have opposites. It’s part of Heavenly Father’s plan for all things to have conflict and challenges. Without them we can’t progress, it builds the character of man and women.

So, why do I give my characters so much opposition? Without it, they would not be real. You would stop reading something that didn’t keep your interest. It’s what I’ve learned. Opposition is good.

My Hat’s Off to You

By C.L. Beck
© 2007

For the past four days I’ve been doing “Grandma duty". My son and his wife just moved into a new home, so I tended their two and five-year-old during the unpacking.

If I’d known what I was getting into, I would have arranged to hire on as a Sherpa in the Himalayas so that I could claim to be busy. I’ll admit the pay for “Grandma duty” is better—you can’t beat hugs and kisses from little people—but it certainly would have been less physically and mentally demanding to be a Sherpa.

At it stands right now, my back is killing me. One knee no longer works, and I limp like an old codger (or codger-ette). I have dark circles under my eyes from missing my afternoon snooze.

Worst of all, my mind has disappeared. Yesterday, while my two sweethearts were taking a nap (or so I thought), I tried to write this blog. Phrases like, “Do you need to go potty?” and “No, it isn’t nice to spit on the dog,” ran through my mind. I stared at a blank page for ever so long and finally gave up.

The moral of the story is that I gained a new appreciation for those writers who are full-time mommies and daddies. I wouldn’t give up the jam-filled hugs or the unasked-for-kisses of the past four days, but I’m glad that my normal routine allows just a little more time for my mind to get into gear and to get my thoughts down on paper.

And for those of you who write and still have children at home, my hat’s off to you!

Please Sir . . . May I Have Some More?

By Keith Fisher

In Oliver, written by Charles Dickens, there is a classic line, delivered by the title character as he offers his empty bowl to the man in charge and asks, “Please, sir, I want some more.” In one of the movie versions, the man shows his rage when he answers, “More? You want more?”

In my struggle to acquire time for the important things in life and fulfill obligations, I’ve been feeling like Oliver lately. Perhaps I can take my clock to the man in charge, get on my knees, and beg, “Please sir, may I have some more?”

I read the blogs, and talk with people; it seems we all share this dilemma. Hopefully our blog has been helpful in your struggle to become a published author, but let me take a personal moment here.

Do parts of this sound familiar?

I wrote a few months ago about my job change. Although the graveyard shift can be hard on everyone, my schedule was totally interrupted. After about six-hours of sleep, I wake at the crack of 2 or 3 PM, and sit down to write, and usually get one sentence into the computer before my daughter comes home from school.

After shuttling the car, cooking dinner, and every little minor emergency, I finally get back to my writing and discover it’s time to get ready for work.

Back in the days before being relegated to the hours of darkness, I usually wrote late into the night, getting the same six hours of sleep, and finding time at work to help proofread the writing of my friends. Life was bliss.

Now there is no time at work for proofreading, and the two hours after ten PM have vanished. I once was a morning person, Now I’m forced into the afternoon, (and somewhat grumpy at that).

In an effort to help you become a better writer, and to avoid self-aggrandizing, I usually offer a solution at this point in a blog, but I’m too tired.

Well . . . perhaps if I write in the morning, before going to sleep . . . it would give me a whole day to reflect on my story . . . but I have to be awake when my daughter comes home . . . that would result in less sleep . . .

Whatever the solution, I’ll keep you in the loop. Meanwhile, I’ve got to get ready for work. As for my commitments to help proofread, let me just say, I’m not really flaky just confused. Will it help to receive suggestions after it’s published?

Please Sir . . . May I have some more?

Got Story?

by G.Parker

Ever think of what makes a good story? I'm sure by now you've taken a few classes and know there are steps we are supposed to take, things we are supposed to do, plot outlines that should be written.

But I'm talking in the simplest terms possible here. What makes a good story? For me, it's being drawn in and made part of it. I have four books that sit on my bedside table. They are books that I love reading over and over again.

Coast Road, by Barbara Delinsky; The Summer House, by Jude Deveraux; Dragonsinger by Anne McCaffrey; and Beauty by Robin McKinley. The two I read the most out of the four are The Summer House and Coast Road.

I just finished Coast Road for the umteempth time, and remembered why I love it so much. It's real. It starts with a crisis which immediately pulls you into the characters and continues with those same characters, letting you live part of their lives.

It's how I want to write. If you are like other writers, you read a lot and you read what you want to write. I didn't know about plots and story line, let alone character development when I started writing -- I just knew I wanted to tell a story. There are a few lucky ones that seem to know how a story should flow without a lot of learning, and I'm jealous.

It takes me loads of practice, lots of editing and more writing to get the story right. I don't do well with plots and storylines, because sometimes that empties the thought out of my brain and the enthusiasm is gone. That part comes in when I'm editing and looking at the ebb and flow of the words. Then I realize that this part is weak, or that character doesn't work, etc.

What makes a story good for you? What's a book that you can't put down until you've read it all the way through, even if it's for the tenth time?

Ask yourself why -- you might learn from it.

They're Watching Us

By Nichole Giles

Have you ever heard the term, “Do as I say, not as I do”? Obviously, I know what it means. But lately I’ve had lots of reason to think about this very phrase.

It occurs to me that every minute I spend with my children is a teaching moment, even when I’m not aware of it. For instance, when I curl up with a book rather than turning on the TV, my kids feel the urge to grab a book of their own. And when I take time to write, they often get out paper and pencil and write their own stories. If I—thinking no one is around—sneak up to my daughter’s room to sing karaoke to her army of stuffed animals, eventually, all my kids, and some of their friends, join me.

And to their credit, they never laugh.

These are good things. Things I am proud to teach them. But everything has its opposite, and here is where my fear lies. If my self-image is bad, theirs will be too. If I use bad grammar, or offensive language, so will they. (Luckily, I am a language conscious person.) And the actions I take in a given situation, are likely actions they will take later in life when they find themselves in a similar situation.

Take another example. I know of a few teenaged boys who—upon being provoked and extremely irritated—ganged up on, and physically assaulted a nine-year-old girl. Instead of storming to the boys’ house and returning the favor—so to speak—the parents of this girl passed the responsibility of punishment to the parents of the boys involved. Sadly, only the parents of one boy took any action. The other two boys remained untouched, having blamed the girl for their disgusting actions. The girl’s parents were saddened by this news, and—as soon as the boiling fury settled—began to wonder how these boys could think it is ever, EVER, okay to hit a girl. Especially one much younger, and smaller, than them.

Ultimately, the truth in this situation is heartbreaking. Because it is possible, and even likely, that each of these boys learned that particular lesson from a member of his own family.

The moral of the story? Our children are watching us. They want to be like us. They trust in the things we do and say, the books we read and music we listen to, the clothing we wear, and the people with which we associate. They see. And whether we—or they—realize it or not, they’re taking it all in.

Think back. Did you shape the course of a life today?

If you need a little practice, I might be willing to let you borrow my daughter’s karaoke machine. I’m telling you, those microphones lure neighborhood children faster than the Pied Piper.

Bad Versus Good

by Connie S. Hall

I was angry when I had to make an unexpected visit to the doctor this past week with no reading material, because they usually have nothing I want to read. I can’t believe it, but I actually found a magazine that caught my attention. The longer I read the more I wanted to know. Much to my surprise I discovered there could be a benefit from being in a bad mood. After reading this short article, I decided to look into negative dispositions versus positive ones.

The magazine said that when you are dissatisfied you think from the bottom up, beginning with details and building up to bigger concepts. One article I read said that people who are sad provide more reliable eyewitness accounts, and show superior judgment and communication skills. Another piece said that a negative mood triggers more systematic, attentive, and vigilant information processing. Then I read that you should not view bad moods as detrimental, but should understand and treat them as a necessary part of the creative process.

The magazine stated that when you are content you think from the top down which sparks wilder ideas. Reading the first article it said that people in a positive mood were more likely to have relatively unreliable memories and to demonstrate poorer judgment and critical thinking skills. Another piece said that a good mood signals a benign, non-threatening environment where we don't need to be so vigilant.

By this time I was becoming a bit discouraged because I’m usually in a positive mood. Then I read that when you are in a positive frame of mind you feel confident, and this frees you to think more expansively. As your thoughts broaden, you come up with new strategies, long-range plans, and novel ideas.

The most important thing I learned is that you need a combination, both types of moods. That the highs and lows complement each other. I’ll never try to talk myself out of a bad mood again. Instead, I’ll go with the flow and keep writing.

A Set of Vocal Chords

By C.L. Beck
© 2007

Have you ever noticed that once your friends realize you write, they think you can write anything? And everything? It’s a compliment, to be sure, and you have to love them for it. Or at least try.

Not too long ago, our Relief Society first counselor asked me to compose a Dr. Seuss-style poem commemorating our ward’s fifth anniversary. And it was supposed to last for twenty minutes.

Holy cow! Twenty minutes? Dr. Seuss style? Apparently she thought because I wrote a puny, little column that made me as good as Dr. Seuss. I would have seen it as flattering but I couldn’t see anything except the brown paper bag into which I was hyperventilating. When I was finally able to catch my breath, she also said she’d like me to narrate it. I got a bigger paper bag.

Once over the shock, my first order of business was to ask for help from my husband, Russ. Big mistake. This is the man who—when we dated in high school—used to drop egg rolls and a poem off at my door at midnight, after he got off work. The poems were artistic creations that said things like, “Pumpkin seed better than weed, and prune juice set you free.” To this day I have no clue what pumpkin seeds and prune juice have to do with egg rolls. But don’t tell him that.

You can see the problem with Russ’s help. His suggestions for the Dr. Seuss-style poem were off the wall ideas that made me laugh—his poetry always has that effect—but they were certainly not mature and sophisticated. If you had to classify them, they were more like the “drink a slug of root beer and belch” type.

It took a lot of help from on high—and I’m sure Theodore Geisel was turning in his grave—but some ideas finally gelled and the spirit of Dr. Seuss and I managed to pull it off. Not that it was great, but at least it rhymed … sort of.

The moral of the story is that if you’re going to write a column, use a pen name. Otherwise, you’ll have to live with the expectation that, because you’re able to string a few thoughts together, you’re Tom Clancy, e.e. cummings, and Ray Romano all rolled into one.

There is another alternative—keep your name and remind your friends that “turn about’s fair play”. And since they have a set of vocal chords, you’ll expect them to sing a solo from Rigolleto at the next ward party.

Pulling Words from Thin Air

By Keith Fisher

At work the other day, I was paying close attention to the images floating past on my computer screen, and listening to old music through my headphones.

Because of the music, my mind began to wander to my teenage years with a mixture of happy and sad emotions. Suddenly, out of nowhere (I still can’t remember what led up to it), A phrase came to me for my work in progress. I stopped the scanner, turned off the music, and wrote it down. It surprised me for two reasons: One, because I haven’t worked on the scene where the phrase will appear since the draft, and two, because in the draft, I worked hard on the phrase, but couldn’t quite get it right.

Since most of the writing I’m doing these days is editing, I thought I would borrow a page from my friend Tristi Pinkston and show you how I used the words that came to me.

This is the way I wrote it in the first draft:
Jesse started to pick himself up, but Joseph gripped Jesse’s shirt collar and pulled him up to face Joseph. He gripped the collar with his left hand, and doubled his right fist. He pulled the fist parallel to his ear. He intended to break his brother’s jaw.

Then after a little exposition, I wrote:
Joseph was struck by the look on Jesse’s face. He looked calm, not at all scared, but Joseph could feel the quickened pulse in Jesse’s neck as Joseph held him by the throat.

This is what I wrote down at work:
With his fist drawn back to the side of his ear, he looked into Jesse’s eyes.

So after a little reworking, I changed it to:
Jesse struggled to lift himself from the floor, but Joseph pulled him up by the shirt collar and held him close. With his fist drawn back to the side of his ear, he looked into Jesse’s eyes.
Joseph was struck by the look on Jesse’s face. He looked calm, not at all scared, but through the shirt collar, Joseph could feel a quickened heartbeat in Jesse’s neck.

It’s not perfect yet, but it’s getting there.

Many writers talk about getting ideas at odd times. Like others, I get some of my best ideas in the shower or in the middle of the night while stumbling toward the bathroom. Most of us hurry to write down the fleeting thought and never wonder about the source of it.

Perhaps we should take a moment and thank the source of the muse, whoever he may be.

Copy Cat

By G.Parker

I'm going to be a copy cat in my blog today. I was reading the 6 LDS Writers and a Frog and noticed Kerry Blair's blog about her 5 most important books. She explains why and what they mean to her. Apparently this stemmed from her addiction to reading Newsweek magazine and the column it runs with similar thoughts from famous people. However, that column only gives them two sentences to state their feelings.

I liked the idea, so I'm elaborating.

A while ago some of us did a blog listing the top 100 books we've either heard or read and while that was fun, I like this one better. I've been a reader since I had to stay back in first grade because I couldn't read.

I got to the point in my high school freshman year where I was picking up two books from the library on the way home, only to return those two books the next day and pick up more. Voracious would be my children. I was cannibalistic. I got a plaque as a senior that said I had soared like an eagle in speed reading…yeah right. I saw no big deal about it, and 'totally gagged' on the whole experience - I was not impressed.

Anyway, here is my list.

1. The Book of Mormon. Okay, I know all the scriptures are important, but this one is my favorite. I remember an old FHE manual lesson that stated if there was only one book you could take with you into space, you should take the Book of Mormon because it was the most perfect book. That has always stayed with me.

2. Anne of Green Gables. Oh man…I read and read and re-read that one. I loved the PBS series as well. I think Megan Fellows does an excellent job of filling the shoes of our heroine. Truly an excellent book.

3. The Diary of Anne Frank. This is the book that started me thinking about writing. I thought "Wow…if I kept a journal and someone found it later, what would I say?" Somehow that translated into writing in general, and then writing fiction. I was 12 when I first read it.

4. The Little Princess/The Secret Garden . For some reason, because these two books are illustrated by the same person, I always think of them together. I loved both of these books. Perhaps one reason was I felt I could empathize with the character, since I lost my father when I was 7. I also always wanted to be a princess.

5. The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew. I don't even know the author to this one, but I have this pathetic little volume that is falling apart and put up high on a shelf so that the kids can't finish the job. I've had this book since someone gave it to me as a youth. It's simplistic, but the message is clean, wholesome and goes along
with the whole idea that work is important and that right and good win out over all odds. If you can find a copy, you want to read it to your younger children. It's lovely. Really.

So there you have it. Not a very impressive or literary list, but it's the 5 (or 6) books that mean a lot to me. I have lots more, of course. I could add the whole series of the Work and The Glory books, but there are books like that for all of us. These are the books that meant a lot to me in my youth, and still are books I treasure today.
What is your list?

Get a Backbone

(Everyone Needs an Outline part II)
By Nichole Giles

If you’re a regular reader, you might still be scratching your head about the three-word outline mentioned in last week’s blog. You’re probably wondering how it’s possible to outline a story in three words, and what to do to prevent your story from being turned into a plate of spaghetti.

Before I explain, I must credit this entire way of thinking to Jon Franklin, author of “Writing for Story, Craft Secrets of Dramatic Nonfiction by a Two-Time Pulitzer Prize Winner.” (This particular topic is discussed in chapter VI: The Outline.)

The format goes like this:

Complication:
Development
1.
2.
3.
Resolution:

You’re allowed only three words per line, and one of them has to be an active verb. You can’t use any type of preposition, nor can you use adjectives or adverbs. Only nouns and ACTIVE verbs. Franklin stresses this point in big boldface letters, saying, “Stories consist of actions.”

The complication is the turning point in the life of the character, the one that gives the story reason. The development is how the character deals with the complication, and builds up to the resolution, which is the end of the story.

As you write this outline, make sure to leave out all of the dreaded “to be” verbs—is, be, am, was, were, have, has, being, been, do, does, did, could, would, should—otherwise, your story will be lacking in action, and you haven’t thought it through well enough.

Next, be sure your main character is in the statement. He or she is, after all, the person the entire story is built upon. If your main character isn’t in the outline, your story isn’t focused.

When you read back through your outline, ask yourself if you can picture the scenes in your mind, and if your beginning and ending match. If so, you have created a successful outline. This outline is the backbone of your story. Pat yourself on the back.

Here’s an example from one of my own nonfiction outlines:

Complication: Washington receives orders
Development:
1. Washington gathers party
2. Washington spies
3. Survives elements, attack
Resolution: Washington delivers report

Now, I will not claim that this is a perfect example. I’m fully aware that number three bends the rules a little. It should say, “Washington survives.” But, for my own sake, I’ve left it as is to remind myself of the specific scene I wish to write about in that particular instance. Notice however, that the complication and the resolution match. Which is the most basic, important element of any outline. The beginning must match the end, or you have no story.

Obviously, there’s so much more to this method of writing than I can ever explain to you in a blog. If this idea intrigues you, I suggest running—not walking, sauntering, or strolling—to your nearest library or bookstore and picking up a copy of the book mentioned above. You’ll be a better writer for it.

That’s it. Give it a try. But I’m warning you; it’s harder than it sounds. The good news is, once you have a basic outline, you’ve already fought half the battle. You’ve taken control of your story, and your noodle. Yeah for you!

I Have To Change My Name

By Connie S. Hall

A pen name is a pseudonym used in place of your legal name. An author may choose a pen name for one of many reasons. Maybe your name is long. Perhaps you think it’s uninteresting, or sounds silly or stupid. It’s possible that your name is difficult to remember, spell, or pronounce.

If you are already an established author, you might want to use a pen name because you are writing in a different genre than you normally do and you don’t want to confuse or upset your regular readers.

In my case, I may be confused with another writer. Our names are the same, except I use a middle initial. I can’t use my maiden name because it’s the same as a famous figure, Connie Smith.

How do I know all this? I finally followed Darvell’s suggestion and googled my name. Can you believe there is already an author by the name of Connie Hall? Just adding the initial S to my name won’t help. Connie Hall has published a book called “Rare Breed.” It sounds like a good book, and my type of thing, but I can’t use the same name. I wonder if she is the same one who published a book called “The Big Easter Trip.” Also under Connie Hall, I found a songwriter who wrote “Fool Me Once,” and “Pick Me Up On Your Way Down.”

Whatever shall I do? My full name is Connie LaRene Smith Hall. No one has ever called me anything but Connie. Even with three Connie’s in my ward we all go by Connie.

The question is how can I pick a pen name? First, I will create a name that is easy to spell and remember. Then I will make sure it doesn’t have too many syllables, sounds nice, and no one has used it before. Sometimes a two-syllable first name and single-syllable last name is an effective combination. I will resist the temptation to make my name too fancy or cute.

A few months ago, the authors’ incognito group was talking about their last names. Some of the things suggested were great ideas. I will use the last name of Hall because it’s near the beginning of the alphabet. I want my book on an upper shelf, and close to books of bestselling authors such as Dean Hughes. Then his book would be between Darvell Hunt’s and mine.

Does anyone out there have a good idea? What name shall I use? I’ve had several suggestions, and the ones I like are C. S. Hall or C. LaRene Hall. Does anyone want to vote on the one I should use? I’m hoping this dilemma will be something I have to worry about soon.

A Muse-ing

By C.L. Beck
© 2007

Most writers have heard about the muses, but you might find it interesting to know that in mythology, there are only she-muses. Sorry to tell you this, guys, but you’re stuck with a gal for your inspiration. Probably one who primps, colors her hair and wears fingernail polish named Who Needs a Prince?

(Really, Keith and Darvell, don’t you find that thought a-muse-ing?)

Even though there are no he-muses mentioned in mythology, I’m certain they exist. They appear right after inspiration strikes and before a writer has a chance to even get one word down on paper. The he-muses are the cause for delayed manuscripts, funky manuscripts, and no manuscripts at all.

Naturally, they don’t have sissy names like the female muses. Their names typically end with “ator” or “ucto” or some other bizarre, “go out and wreak havoc on the world” syllables. I’m sure many of you have encountered them; maybe we’ve even met a few of the same ones.

The Alphabetizer-ator: The muse who inspires you to alphabetize your magazines, canned vegetables, and the spices in the cupboard before putting a word down on paper. Then he mentions that the cans of old paint in the basement really need to be sorted by color.

The Grinder-ator: The one who reminds you that you can’t write unless your pencils are sharp. All your pencils. Every one that’s in the house. Oh, and don’t forget that one out in the car’s glove box. Who cares that you haven’t used a pencil to write since you were in the third grade?

The Cleaner-ator: That burly guy who bugs you because your desk is a mess. So, before you write, you straighten and clean. And then get out the vacuum, take the computer apart and vacuum out the dust. He’s the one you hear laughing in your head as you accidentally suck the mother board out of your computer, effectively ending your writing career for the month.

The Sharpener-ator: The man’s man. He’s the one that whispers to all the guys that the shovels, hoes, and pitchfork need to be sharpened. It’s a macho issue, since no guy can stand to write when he has unsharpened tools hanging over his head. This is also the same muse who then tells the guys to go sharpen the Water-Pik.

The Barker-ator: The muse who insists that you can’t think with the dog barking. Or the cat meowing. And can't the birds chirp quieter? Or the leaves stop rustling? He’s the one who inspires you to stuff a potato into the tailpipe of that noisy car across the street.

I've given you a taste for the personalities of just a few of them, but the list goes on and on. They’re insidious. It takes a strong, determined writer to defeat them. However, forewarned is also forearmed.

And I intend to tell you more so that you can resist. Really, I do.

But first … give me a few minutes to clean off my desk, sharpen my pencils and vacuum out the computer.

New Contest

by Keith Fisher

In an effort to draw attention to my website I have posted a new contest. go to www.knfisher.com and click on the fuzzy dice. good luck

An Element of Sadness

By Keith Fisher

I was in our local everything for a dollar store the other day. I was looking at frames for my writing award, but that’s another story.

Anyway, I perused the do-dads and do-hickeys, when I stumbled upon a sight that saddened me. In the school supplies section, I found several shelves devoted to books, not just pocket size paperbacks, but hard cover 80,000 word novels.

Normally this wouldn’t be anything new for me but I had to remember I was in the dollar store. These weren’t just discounted books—they were one step away from give-away, (or throwaway).

I studied the unfamiliar titles, and checked out the unknown authors’ names. I imagined the hopes and dreams, the late into the night, all consuming urge those authors must’ve felt to write their books.

I imagined their elation when their publisher delivered the good news, the hard work of going through the process to see their book in print. Perhaps it didn’t sell well, and the publisher printed too many copies. Whatever the reason, the book had been relegated to the discount store.

As writers, we’re familiar with this story, but I was left with a feeling of sadness for the books that never really saw the light of glory. I was sad for the unknown authors who would’ve been the next Mary Higgins Clark or Ray Bradbury, if only their books had seen more shelf life, or inspired controversy like Dan Brown’s.

But I have to remember, at least the book was published, the author still has a chance.

I agree with Jeffrey Savage’s desire to have many people read his books even if they borrow the first one, or check it out from a library somewhere. If a book is good enough, people will remember and purchase their own copy of the author’s next book.

If the unknown authors I spoke of continue to write, then having their book in the extreme discount section could be a good thing. At least it will get their book into the hands of many. So the sadness I felt may be premature. It may be harder to get a publisher, but those forlorn copies of unexplored prose might be the great-grandfathers of a bestseller someday.

I've Never Been a History Buff...

By G.Parker

I've never looked into what has happened on my birthday before. I like some of the stories in history, but it's never been a draw. I wasn't going to do the whole posting unless someone tagged me, and I didn't think that would happen. Connie surprised me! Sneaky girl...

So I looked up October 5th in the annals of history at Wikipedia, and came up with some interesting stuff. Even to me.

3 events: (okay, I had to list more than three...there were some biggies!)

869 - The Fourth Council of Constantinople is convened (I'm not sure that's a good thing...)

1793 - French Revolution: Christianity is disestablished in France. (this is just sad. What did Christianity have to do with the revolution?)

1877 - Chief Joseph surrenders his Nez Perce band to General Nelson A. Miles.

1905 - Wilbur Wright pilots Wright Flyer III in a flight of 24 miles in 39 minutes, a world record that stood until 1908.

1921 - Baseball: The World Series was broadcast on the radio for the first time. (yehaw!)

1969 - The first episode of Monty Python's Flying Circus airs, at 9 p.m., on the BBC. (okay, everyone say it with me - "I didn't vote for ya!")

List 2 important birthdays:

1658 - Mary of Modena, queen of James II of England (d. 1718)

1829 - Chester A. Arthur, 21st President of the United States (d.1886) (now he's one we all know and love, right?)

I had to add two more:
1902 - Ray Kroc, American fast food entrepreneur (d. 1984) (I had to add him - everyone loves McDonalds! ugh)

1975 - Kate Winslet, English actress (I was thrilled she had my bday! can't believe she's that much younger than me though...sigh)

List 1 death:

877 - Charles the Bald (b. 823) (how would you like to be known as Charles the Bald?)

Okay...I'm listing 2:
1996 - Seymour Cray, American computer pioneer (b. 1925) (anyone know what computer?)

List a holiday or observance:

International World Teachers' Day (my co-workers would love this!)

This has been great fun. I hope you have as much fun looking up your birthday.
Everyone's birthday is an important day!

Spaghetti for Brains

Everyone Needs an Outline, Part I
By Nichole Giles

There I was, typing away at my brilliant children’s mystery story. It had mystery, it had suspense, it had kid protagonists and a priceless pair of shoes. After checking my word count, I started to sweat. Uh oh, getting close to the limit. My fingers danced across the keys, I was almost to the end, I wrote and wrote like mad and then—

I spaghettied.

AAAAHHHHH! I had lost the threads of the story. So, I did what most of us would do. I shut down and took a break. When I came back to my computer, I checked my email, surfed the web a bit, and looked at a few other documents before opening that story again. Then, I typed a sentence or two, and it hit me again. Spaghetti.

I did this for over a week, that particular story nagging at the back of my mind constantly, like an itch you just can’t quite scratch. But every time I tried to finish it, the threads of the story turned to noodles, and slipped through my fingers.

Meanwhile, I received in the mail a writing book I’ve been waiting for, and started reading. This particular book is called, “Writing for Story,” by Jon Franklin. It is meant for nonfiction writers who want to write dramatic nonfiction stories, but as I discovered, the methods and structure Jon Franklin teaches are also useful in writing fiction.

It is from him that I have borrowed the term “spaghettiing.” And he claims to have borrowed it from a team of 1970’s meteorologists.

It goes something like this: In trying to teach computers to do long-range weather forecasts, the meteorologists “programmed the ‘gas laws’ into a computer, fed in current data, and then told the computer to print out tomorrow’s weather map. It did so, and the map, while not perfect was pretty good…but when it tried to push its predictions further into the future, tiny errors in the input began to accumulate, the computer seemed to get sort of…confused…and something weird began to happen.

“Slowly the high and low pressure systems, which normally look like fat blobs on the weather map, began to narrow and curl around on themselves, faster and faster, multiplying insanely, until the next week’s weather map looked like a plate of spaghetti.” The meteorologists gave the phenomenon a name: “spaghettiing.”

The point Franklin makes in explaining the above passage is that “writing also involves the processing and integration of large masses of individually trivial bits of data. If you begin writing a story, and don’t know exactly where you’re going, any little mistake you make, or any small omissions you miss, take on added significance as you proceed. Eventually, you start losing the threads, and spaghettiing becomes inevitable.”

Now, according to Jon Franklin, the solution to spaghettiing is a simple outline. The outline he suggests is what he calls a three-word outline, and it is essentially the backbone of your story.

I tested his theory with my most recent fiction story, and was pleased with the simplicity of the idea and the ease with which my story came together. But that’s another blog.

The bottom line is, I threw my original story away, made an outline for another story, and wrote the rough draft all in one day. It’s amazing what you can do when you take control of your noodle.

To be continued…

My Tag Blog

By Connie S. Hall

I also love games, and although I’m old, I still play tag. This particular game makes you put your research skills to work. The directions and answers are below.

1. Go to Wikipedia and type in your birth date only - without the year. My list was almost five pages long.

The date of my birth is December 15, ten days before Christmas.

2. List 3 events that occurred that day:

1791 – The United States Bill of Rights becomes law when ratified by the Virginia legislature.

1939 – Gone with the Wind premieres in Atlanta, Georgia.

1965 – The film The Sound of Music is released.

3. List 2 important birthdays:

1878 – Hans Carossa, German writer.

1888 – Maxwell Anderson, American writer.

4. List 1 death:

1673 – Margaret Cavendish, an English writer.

5. List a holiday or observance:

Bill of Rights day, as stated by Franklin Roosevelt.

Can you believe my first and last items are related? You can tell by my list that two of my loves are history and writing. I hope everyone has fun playing this game, and if you aren’t tagged you should still look up the information.

I tag G. Parker.

LDS Horror

By Darvell Hunt

I’ve debated about what to say on the topic of LDS horror, or whether I should say anything at all. I mean, after all, is there such a thing?

I say, yes, there is. The follow up question then becomes: is this something anybody wants to see?

Again, I find myself saying, yes.

By now, nobody who reads LDS writing blogs can say that they don’t know about the LDStorymakers Conference that was held a number of weeks ago. Popular romance writer Rachel Nunes gave a presentation on the current market of LDS genres. She brought up the LDS horror genre and stated that there is currently nothing really available in this market and that if somebody were to do it well and stay within LDS boundaries, one might be able to really exploit this untapped market.

I’ve been sitting on an LDS horror novel of mine for about four years, wondering what to do with it. I think the time may be right to get it out there for people to see. But how?

There has also recently been a lot of discussion of Richard Dutcher, who pioneered LDS cinema. What many people do not realize is that he also was a pioneer in LDS horror, specifically with his film Brigham City.

Richard Dutcher was able to pull off LDS horror by giving it redeeming value. Anyone who has watched the last scene in Brigham City must surely know what I mean. I think what he did was key to making LDS horror work.

But why would we do this?

I am one of many closet-readers of mainstream horror, but I, like many LDS readers, am tired of the language and content so popular in mainstream novels, and not just horror. The reason many LDS readers buy LDS books is to get away from objectionable content that exists in the mainstream market. Presently, however, there is nothing available for LDS horror fans.

I would like to change that.

I recently talked to the editor of one of the “big LDS publishers” about the prospect of publishing LDS horror. While this editor seemed very reserved about the idea, this person left the idea open to the possibility. So, as of this moment, this LDS publisher is considering my submission of an LDS horror novel.

How cool—and how weird—is that?

Will anything come of it? I don’t know, honestly, but I hope so. I would love to give LDS readers of Stephen King and Dean Koontz something to read that they wouldn’t mind recommending to their LDS friends.