The Path Less Trod

by G.Parker

In looking at the writers of our early nation, I chose some that I thought I knew. As I read about them and their passions, I have grown to respect them even more. This week, I'm spotlighting John Adams. Here is a quote from one of his writings:

Man is distinguished from other animals, his fellow inhabitants of this planet, by a capacity of acquiring knowledge and civility, more than by any excellency, corporeal, or mental, with which mere nature has furnished his species. His erect figure and sublime countenance would give him but little elevation above the bear or the tiger; nay, notwithstanding those advantages, he would hold an inferior rank in the scale of being, and would have a worse prospect of happiness than those creatures, were it not for the capacity of uniting with others, and availing himself of arts and inventions in social life. As he comes originally from the hands of his Creator, self-love or self-preservation is the only spring that moves within him; he might crop the leaves or berries with which his Creator had surrounded him, to satisfy his hunger; he might sip at the lake or rivulet to slake his thirst; he might screen himself behind a rock or mountain from the bleakest of the winds; or he might fly from the jaws of voracious beasts to preserve himself from immediate destruction. But would such an existence be worth preserving? Would not the first precipice or the first beast of prey that could put a period to the wants, the frights, and horrors of such a wretched being, be a friendly object and a real blessing?


I thought this was an amazing piece. I love the language with which he speaks, the picture he vividly paints and the expression of gratitude for a divine being.

I hope you'll look up some of his works and get to know him better. I'll surprise you with next weeks' spotlight.

Stalling, Stalling, Wasting Time

By Nichole Giles

You know, sometimes I wonder how I ever get any writing done. I wake up in the morning, and run here, and there, and do this and that and before I know it, more than half the day’s gone and I haven’t even opened my computer yet. And then, when I do open it, the very first thing I do is check my email, scan a few blogs, check my email again, sign onto Facebook, check my email…

Eventually, though, I get around to opening my current work in progress.

This month, I took one of Tristi Pinkston’s challenges, and am attempting to add 25-30,000 words to my WIP by the end of the month. Hopefully, that’ll put me close to the end—if not all the way there. I’d really like to finish my rough draft of this so I can get to the good part—editing.

But when I finally open the document, I end up staring at the blank page for at least half an hour—not knowing what to write. So, I check my email again, scan blogs, log onto Facebook, edit work for other people, then get back to my document. I go on like this for most of the evening—taking time out to make dinner, talk to my kids, be a taxi, etc—until before I know it, it’s after 11:00 and I’ve only written half a page.

At this point, I look at my bed, then my computer, and generally end up playing einie meenie meiny moe between the two. But this month, because I really want to get this done, I work it so most of the time the computer wins the battle. I then take it downstairs away from my bedroom (so I’m not tempted to shut down and go to sleep) where I set up camp in the den and actually start writing. Sometime around midnight, I’ll find my groove, and by 2:00 a.m., I generally have either 1500 words or an entire chapter.

Then, I close my computer and crawl upstairs and into bed—satisfied that I’ve actually accomplished something with my day. Unfortunately, the cycle starts all over again the next morning, and I find myself wondering why I write best in the middle of the night when I should be sleeping?

Well, according to my fifteen-year-old son, the answer should be obvious. Sleeping hours are the most creative for our brains and just because I’m not lying down in my bed doesn’t mean my brain isn’t sleeping. Therefore, the majority of my work is probably more of an extended dream that has been intricately mapped out via words on a screen. And I—the author—am merely the vessel through which these brilliant and wonderful dreams are filtered.

So there you go. The answer to the one question we all get asked at least twice a day. “How do you know what to write?”

I guess I don’t! Really, it’s my brain being fed a dream as I sleepwalk through life. Whoda thunk?

Being Raised Up

By C. LaRene Hall

One of my favorite months of the year is July. I love July 4th and all the festivities that come with it. July 24th is another day that I enjoy. It’s so good to ponder and think of the reason for these holidays, and of course, pay tribute to those who came before me.

For many years, there has been a free Days of ’47 Pops Concert held in Salt Lake City. I love good music and always look forward to the orchestra and guest performers that entertain the audience. This year I was not disappointed when one of the soloists was Joseph Paur from the movie Rigoletto. Although I love the music from Rigoletto, it’s not what I enjoyed most. The song he sang that touched me was, You Raise me Up.

I wish when I’m writing I could always remember the words, “You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains; You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas.” When I hear these words, I know I can do anything. And I believe the song when it says, “I am strong, when I am on your shoulders; You raise me up; To more than I can be.”

I know without the Lord’s help I am nothing. Now, if I could always remember that, I know I’d be okay.

When You Don’t Know What to Write, Write Anyway

By Ali Cross

Sunday came and my blog was due the next day. But I didn’t have a single idea of what I should write. So I sat, hands poised above the keyboard, and searched my heart and mind for inspiration.

Sometimes you finally carve out a moment of time and happily head to your computer ready to take that time to write. Ahh, relief! Joy! Writing time!

Except you find that your muse has taken a holiday and you’re left alone, and shockingly without a single bit of inspiration.

The minutes tick by and sweat beads on your brow. You can feel the time slipping by and the lack of words on the page feels less like an invitation and more like a slap in the face. What in the world made you think you could write in the first place? It was presumptuous of you to think you could write, again. It was a fluke, a marvel, never again to be repeated.

And then you start to type. Slowly at first, directionless, you let your thoughts flow onto the page, your fingers flying over the keys. And soon you find you’ve not only filled up your time with writing, but your page is also full.

There is no better cure for writers block than writing. Remember, when you don’t know what to write, write anyway.

A Word Weaver

By Keith Fisher

When I was asked to review Bron Bahlmann’s new book, Bone Warriers, It was still an ARC and hadn’t been released yet. Because of life changes and commitments, It kept being put back. I never knew what I was missing.

Finally, I picked up the book and began to read. Two paragraphs into the first chapter, I became aware that Bron Bahlmann was no ordinary kid writer. I had to read his sentences out loud because of the mastery of his writing.

Bron is a word weaver. He takes sentences and braids them into other sentences without the aid of a conjunction. And the words he uses conjure images in the mind, leaving the reader feeling like he/she has taken a journey.

I like this book and I like reading it. The author has a long career ahead of him. I’m glad he writes fantasy because I would have to stop writing. My mediocre talent is no match for his. When I grow up I want to be like Bron. I want to be a word weaver.

Bone Warriors is YA, but its a must read for everyone. You can find information about the book and Bron here. You can find the book at Amazon and fine bookstores everywhere.

Good luck with your writing---see you next week.

Worth a few Cents of thought

by G.Parker

We all learned about Benjamin Franklin in school, but I think many have forgotten how much we owe this man. Can you list all of his inventions? Or how many quotes he is responsible for? He was one of the most amazing men of his time, and it is simply mind boggling all the things he accomplished.

With writing in mind, it should be noted that he is responsible for over 206 quotes that we still use today. I think it's interesting how the language hasn't really changed in their use. For example:

A penny saved is a penny earned.

A place for everything, everything in its place.

A countryman between two lawyers is like a fish between two cats. (my family, made up of lawyers, especially enjoys this one...grin)

By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.

Certainty? In this world nothing is certain but death and taxes.

Energy and persistence conquer all things.

God helps those who help themselves.

Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days.

He does not possess wealth; it possesses him.

He that rises late must trot all day.

Honesty is the best policy.

And these two that I'll end with:

Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.

He that composes himself is wiser than he that composes a book.

I think the thought that doing something worth writing about is what a writer always needs to hear. Life is full and rich enough...there is plenty to write about.

The last quote is food for thought. Imagine someone who is able to do both -- compose himself and a book -- the kind of wisdom that would come as a result.

Those are my thoughts for the day. Next week I'll be talking about John Adams.

Remember, It's Not Personal

By Nichole Giles

Every writer who is brave enough to submit is bound to get rejections. It doesn’t matter how good your work is, or how many people love it. We all have different writing styles, and not everyone is going to immediately fall in love with everything we write.

Because of this, submitting can often be a scary thing. Even more scary than sending our work to critique partners or loved ones who will give honest feedback. Our friends and family will (hopefully) give us comments and helpful suggestions to improve our work—but most editors or agents don’t have the time or resources for this. Instead, they might send a form letter, thanking you for your submission and informing you that your work doesn’t fit their needs. That’s hard.

Other editors or agents won’t reply at all, and you’re forced to spend weeks, or even months, wondering if your submission got lost in the mail—or if possibly cyber-gremlins ate it for lunch. Then you spend more time wondering if you should send a follow up email or letter, or if perhaps you should call.

Then there are the agents or editors who are kind enough to reply personally to all submissions, even negative ones. They might jot a nice note telling you they’re sorry they have to pass, or graciously thank you for submitting your work to them. Some might send a form letter but sign it personally—with a line like, “Keep submitting.” It’s amazing what a single personalized sentence can do to help temper the sting of rejection.

Whenever you get a rejection, it’s important to remember that these people are looking strictly at your work and how it fits into their vision of business. Even when you’re submitting to agents or editors you know or have previously met, they’re reading your writing with an eye to what kind of manuscript fits their current needs. If they really like you personally, they might read your submission faster, or look harder, or be possibly more anxious to find a reason to accept your stuff, but in the end, it’s still a matter of matching the right manuscript with the right company.

What I’m saying here is that rejections are not personal.

Wait! Wait! Before you all stampede over to my house to flog me, listen to what I have to say. Writing is personal. It’s like pouring pieces of your heart on paper and then sending it to a stranger to find out if you yourself are a good enough person. But while all authors feel this way—it’s true, we do—the bottom line is that a rejection of your current work in progress is NOT a rejection of you as a person. It’s not personal! It’s business.

It is an agent /editor’s job to pick the right manuscripts for the right market at the right time. And the writing must be…well, just right. So, in other words, there could be a thousand different reasons why you received a rejection on a specific piece—but that doesn’t mean you’re a terrible writer and it’s time to quit. Pick yourself up, dust off, and submit to five more places. Every author gets rejections. It’s a fact of life in this business.

The thing that makes each of us different is how we handle those rejections. Will you stop writing? Will you stop submitting? Will you lay down your pen forever and still the voices and stories and descriptions floating around in your head? Or will you mark each rejection as a notch on your post and try to fill the whole thing up until you succeed?

Rejections from editors and agents aren’t personal, but your reaction to them most definitely is. What will you do? How will it affect you?

Me? I choose to take the high road. I’ll be the author who brings a trunk full of rejections to speaking engagements where I tell other authors how many rejections I got before I succeeded.
What do you think? Want to join me?

Never

By C. LaRene Hall

I’ve been looking at a list I have of things you should never do as a writer, but I have a new one to put at the top of my list. The number one thing that you as a writer should never do is take a vacation.

My vacation this time lasted almost two weeks, and I purposely left my computer at home. Now that I’m back, I’ve decided that it was a huge mistake leaving it. I do have many tiny little notes that I scribbled on small pieces of paper. Some of them make sense, but most of them have no meaning and are untidy, illegible doodles. The memorable moments are still in my head, but I lost more than I saved. I even took my tape player that sat in my bag unused. I was really on vacation.

A writer should always be prepared and should always write all those precious thoughts onto more than small scrapes of paper. You should always write clear notes, and not scribble. I’m not happy that I failed to keep track of thoughts swimming in my head. I know that once it goes away it will never return.

Other times when I’ve gone away on vacation, I’ve kept good records and at least wrote on my AlphaSmart. This time although it was with me, I only recorded the pictures I took. I can use the excuse that I was too busy and having too much fun, but it won’t help bring back all the lost thoughts. At least I learned from this experience.

“Make Me Live!” he said.

By Darvell Hunt

“I don’t want to write this story until I know more about the plot, or the characters, or what color of clothes the sidekick likes to wear on Tuesdays.”

I say things like this all the time. To my credit, I often write very quickly when I finally force myself to get to the computer and bring up MS Word. By the time I start to write, I really do know the plot and characters, because I have thought about them so much.

Unfortunately, it’s quite difficult for me to tell when that time arrives. When does planning and plotting become simple procrastination?

I’m not sure I know the answer to that question, but I do know that it has happened when I am not yet submitting my next story to an editor because it’s still in my head.

Instead, I find myself on Facebook or eBay or checking online classifieds, or even reading a book or taking a nap on the couch. And, in between doing all of those things, I’m still thinking about my story.

Sometimes I wish my characters would get more impatient with me, tap me on the shoulder, and say, “Hey! Make me live! And do it NOW!”

“OK, OK!” I say. “I will! But first, I need to mow the lawn....”

The Art of Language

By Ali Cross

Recently I had the privilege of taking a workshop on world building for children given by Stacy L. Whitman. The biggest thing I took away from the class, was the importance of language in a YA/Middle Grade fantasy.

In an adult fantasy (and I hope you’ll forgive me, I’m lumping all varieties of fantasy, including sci-fi into the word “fantasy”) you can take your time, and it’s expected of you to paint the picture of the world your story is set in. Adult readers relish in the details and love to see the world you’re creating.

Maybe it’s because kids typically have more active imaginations than we adults, but they don’t need us to paint-by-the-numbers for them. With just a few well-placed lines, a kid has enough to build the world in their mind and any extra information can in fact be cumbersome.

So how do you build a world for your reader without using a lot of description? The answer, according to Stacy, is language.

Our language not only defines who we are, but what we see. Through a few lines of dialogue we can see through the character’s perspective, what their world looks like, whether they are educated or not, what time period they live in, and how they view themselves in relation to their world.

Whenever I think of this topic, I think of the movie The Forbidden Kingdom. In it, there is a girl, Sparrow, whose parents were killed by the evil warlord. She grew up as an orphan and trained her whole life for one purpose—to kill the warlord and avenge her parents. Because of her focus, she doesn’t even see herself as a person. She only sees her mission.

Sparrow is a supporting character, so how do I know so much about her? Because of the way she speaks. She refers to herself in third person, i.e. “She must find the warlord and kill him.” That’s not an exact line, just an example. But what it tells me, is that she is outside of herself. She is not looking at her heart or examining her feelings. She is a weapon, a tool.

At the end of the movie, Sparrow and her goal come together. Everything coalesces for her and in that moment, she refers to herself as “I.” It is so powerful because in one line, we learn so much. We learn that she is wholly present, that she is no longer on the outside looking in.

Imagine what you could do in a book with just a few well-thought-out you have an extra space before “out” personal attributes for each of your characters. Imagine how your story would grow and you could show so much without telling much at all.

Patriotism-Happy Holiday

By Keith Fisher

Sorry, I went camping and didn't get this posted this morning. Hope Your holiday was great.

For several years now, I’ve attended the Orem Summerfest Parade. It’s always fun. It’s held in the evening, and I don’t have to bake in the sunshine.

In all the years, there are a few parades that stand out. One, in particular, back in the nineties, sticks out in my mind. When the flag passed, me, my friend, and maybe six others, were the only ones who stood up. With my hand over my heart, I wondered what happened to patriotism?

I was equally disturbed right after 911, when the number of those standing increased. I couldn’t help but wonder where all the new patriots came from? Wasn’t it just as important to stand before?

There is a new twist, now. A civil war reenactment group marches down the road with a flag, and they fire their black powder rifles. Its great having them there, but one of them, dressed in an officers uniform, draws his saber and points it at spectators. He commands them to remove their hat or stand up. He is reminding people to show respect by commanding them at the point of a sword.

I like to think he doesn’t realize what he’s doing. One day, I watched him threaten a man who doesn’t speak English. The man was visiting his children from South America. Clearly that man didn’t understand. Besides, isn’t it true, that in the USA I have a right to not stand?

Patriotism is like belief in Deity. It comes from a place in the heart. It can’t be forced any more than faith in God can be. There is a very sweet, almost spiritual moment when I stand for the flag and put my hand over my heart. I hope everyone feels the same, but allegiance that is forced, is not patriotism.

Have a happy Independence Day. If you go to a parade, stand up when the flag passes by. I think you’ll like it. If someone threatens you with a dangerous weapon . . . well, consider the source.

Good luck with your writing---see you next week.

Colonial Language

by G.Parker

I have been fortunate at times during our blog's history, to post on days that have national significance. Some would probably argue that July 24th isn't a national holiday, but I think it affects them, whether they accept it or not.

Anyway -- the first holiday this month is national. The 4th of July is Saturday, and while Keith will have the honors, I still get to mention it.

Recently, my family and I have been taking a closer look at our country and it's its founders -- especially at their writing and how it is viewed today. One of the early writers of the revolution was Thomas Paine. He wrote several articles that ignited the people and helped spark the resolve to separate from England. In a talk on Sunday, one of the articles (The Crisis) was mentioned and quoted.

"These are the times that try men's souls."

In listening to the quoted material, I noticed how differently we talk now. Depending on whom you were to talk to today, this sentence could come across in many different ways.

Child - "I don't know what he's talking about. Do you?"
YA - "Hey, like, these times are trying, ya know?"
Late Teen - "It's getting harder and harder to pay off my credit card, dude."
Adult - "I'm worried about where this country is going."
Educated adult - "The conflict and dissolution between the parties is pulling at the very fabric of our country."

As writers, we try to make our writing something that isn't associated with a specific time period. In my critique group, they comment on particular phrases or common slang, and remind the writer that if they don't want the work to be classed as '80's' or '70's' or whichever era, they need to take out the slang words that were related purely to those times.

In some ways, it's sad that our language has lost some of its depth. Many of the words Thomas Paine used would be confusing to someone of our day. Here's another paragraph from his book The Crisis to illustrate what I mean:

"THOSE who expect to reap the blessings of freedom, must, like men, undergo the fatigues of supporting it. The event of yesterday was one of those kind of alarms which is just sufficient to rouse us to duty, without being of consequence enough to depress our fortitude. It is not a field of a few acres of ground, but a cause, that we are defending, and whether we defeat the enemy in one battle, or by degrees, the consequences will be the same."

I admit, if I were reading that in a newspaper today, I'd skip it and move on. It would not be my chosen reading material, because the language is different from what I'm used to. But I still like the intelligence it displays. It's kind of the same reasoning some people use for slang or swear words. My mother-in-law likes to say that those who swear just can't think of better words to use.

I think our language has changed because we have gotten lazy. It's a sad state of affairs, but it's true. One of the common complaint my husband has had about cell phone texting, for instance, is that those who do it a lot loose some of their ability to use grammar and spelling correctly.

Thus -- again, our language is being affected by the changes in society. Amazing how many different things are changed or affected by how people act, speak and think. Including the books we read and the education we get.


For now, enjoy our nation’s birthday, and remember the freedoms we have as a result of an amazing and intelligent group of words on paper. Next week I'll explore another early writer -- Benjamin Franklin.

Proud to be Free and Grateful to the Brave

By Nichole Giles

As I contemplated what I’d write about this week—tossing topics around in my head between taxiing my kids and taking care of life—I kept coming back to the fact that our nation’s birthday is coming up. And as I thought about it, I realized something.

I’m able to try new things, step out of the bounds others might try to impose on my personal self, because I live in this wonderful free country. I haven’t done anything to necessarily earn this freedom, other than being born in the United States. I just am.

This week, my husband and I watched the movie, Defiance. It’s the true story of some Jewish people in Europe who, during World War II, ran away to live in the forest—thereby defying Hitler’s attempt to kill them. What started off as three brothers turned into a huge community of people over a thousand strong. (Great movie, by the way, and very well done.) They were free within the confines of their little community, and yet, were hunted until the end of the war.

And here I am, living in this place where I can dress however I choose, work at any job I set my mind to do, give birth to as many children as I want without government imposed limits, and try something new every single day. Well, you know, if I want. That is the glorious nature of America.

Just because I didn’t do anything to earn my freedom, there are many, many people—historically and currently—who have done it for me. Since the beginning of time, people have been fighting for the kinds of rights and freedoms that I enjoy today. I may not have fought the battles, but that doesn’t mean I should ever forget them, or what our country is because of the brave souls who did.

Today, I choose to thank the soldiers—those out serving, those just returning, and those waiting to be called up. I’m thankful to all the soldiers—from all the wars and conflicts and issues—who have given their lives, or at least large chunks of time, fighting for my freedom.

I am truly honored to live here.

In honor of the holiday, and because this is a blog about writing, here is an exercise:

Write about what freedom means to you, and what you can do to show gratitude toward those who have fought so diligently for it.

Happy Independence Day, America! We are the land of the free, because of the brave.

Pitch a Story in Which Ear?

By Cindy Beck



Recently, I ran across a blog article by William Highsmith suggesting writers stand a better chance if they pitch their story in the editor's right ear. At first, I wondered if the article was meant as a joke but as I read farther, I realize it wasn't. It went on to say that the human brain has cross-wiring. No surprise in that, as my brain always seems cross-wired ... only not in a scientific way, like the article intended.

The old adage about words going, "...in one ear and out the other," is almost true. What really happens is words that go in one ear come out on the other side of the brain. Therefore, something heard in the right ear is processed by the left side of the mind. And the left hemisphere is the logical side—the portion of the editor's brain that you want to accept your work.

I suppose the trick lies in getting the editor to turn so you're speaking in the correct ear. I'm not sure how to accomplish that. Maybe point to a good-looking chick/hunk (depending on whether your editor is male or female) to your right and comment on the lack of clothing, thus causing a head turn on the editor's part that might rival Linda Blair's in The Exorcist. I'm not certain that's the best subterfuge, but it certainly seems worth a try.

All I know is that I intend to give it a shot in the future. After all, no one can dispute that it's a good idea to pitch a story in the write ear.

My Book is Not Closed

By Darvell Hunt

I have something that Michael Crichton, Edgar Allen Poe, Emily Dickinson, John Steinbeck, Jane Austen, or even Mark Twain or William Shakespeare, do not have.

I have life.

My work has not yet been completed. I can still write more than what I have—and better than what I have. If one of my stories is not yet complete, I can finish it. If there is an idea that’s been banging around inside my head for years, I can still put it on paper.

Life is precious, but very limited. Unlike land, which they say goes up in value because it has a finite supply, we get a steady stream of time—24 new hours each and every day. It comes and goes whether we use it or not, and everybody gets the same amount per day.

I have recently made a commitment to use more of my daily allotment of time to produce more writing—word combinations unique to me that no other person on earth can create, nor compare exactly to what dead writers have already created. My words are my own and unique to me.

In addition to the few names I listed above, there are many other great dead writers out there, but nobody knows who they are. They didn’t write. Or they didn’t submit. Or they didn’t persevere.

Popular fantasy writer Tracy Hickman says that if your words are not read, you are not a writer. If we waste our moments of time doing something else besides our God-given talents, which may include writing, then we waste our lives, as time is the essence of life.

I am a writer. I have more life left—more time to write. My book is not closed. My work is not done. I must continue to write as well as I can until life closes my front cover and puts me on a shelf, where I hope people will recognize my name and further give me life by reading my words.

Sincerity

By Ali Cross

A couple thoughts collided to bring you this post. First, I’ve been thinking a lot about how some writers tailor their work to suit the market. I’m talking about those writers who write outside of their genres just to meet market demand. Or who change their main character from a girl to a boy because they heard there were fewer strong male protagonists for middle grade readers, not because they wanted to write a story about a boy.

Secondly, I’ve been thinking about those times we try to manipulate our stories so they go in a direction that they clearly don’t want to go. I’m sure all of you can relate: There are times when you have an expectation from your story, you sit down to write it, only to discover your characters have something else in mind.

When a writer does either of these things, their story becomes less sincere and the reader knows it. What happens when a reader encounters such writing? Well, I’ll tell you what I think happens . . . the reader snaps the book closed and tosses it onto the floor.

As a writer, you have a responsibility to your readers. Lie to them, and they’ll know it. If you’re lucky, they’ll forgive you, but if you’re not so lucky, if you lie to them too often, they might never read your stuff again.

It’s important to be aware of market trends when writing your books, but you should never write in a genre you aren’t comfortable in. If your voice and story ideas are best suited to adult epic fantasy, but you’ve heard the trend is toward YA dystopian, don’t change your genre. You may be able to crank out something that’s publishable, but your heart won’t be in it, and eventually your readers will discover that about you. Guaranteed, at that point they’ll feel let down.

Similarly, if you try to make your characters behave in ways that are contrary to their nature, your story will be derailed—in feeling, if not in actuality. Your readers will begin to doubt what they’re reading and question everything they thought they knew before. No matter how the changes propel the story forward, if your character is not believable, your story might as well be dead.

Writing is a responsibility. In exchange for their hard-earned money and valuable time, you must be honest with your readers. They trust you to take them to another world, to let them escape reality for a little while. If you betray that trust, the reader will know, and they will not come back to you.

Be sincere in your writing. Be true to your heart, to your story and to your characters. Your readers will thank you for it!

Agent in Old Lace

A book review by Keith Fisher

When Tristi Pinkston agreed with the rest of us to attempt a start of a critique group, I was pleased. I knew I’d learn a lot about writing, but since Tristi wrote historical fiction, I figured I’d learn more about history.


On that first day, Tristi brought the first few pages of her Secret Sisters Manuscript. Needless to say, I fell in love with her characters and thoroughly enjoy the antics of Ida Mae. After receiving a contract on the series Tristi came with a mystery/suspense that had to be edited right away. I sat in awe of Tristi’s versatility.

Because of difficulties, I didn’t get a chance to help much with her edits. So, I got to read this book fresh and I found a great story.


I’m still waiting for Secret Sisters, but Agent in Old Lace is a great snack to tide me over. Actually I liked the book. The story intrigues and delights the readers. The plot twists keep them reading, and the protagonist is fleshed out completely.


Here, read this:


. . . With the gun still in his hand, he glanced from side to side.
"Shannon!" he yelled, and for a minute she thought she’d been spotted. "This is the biggest mistake of your life!" He kept walking. "Shannon, come out," he cajoled. "We can still make it work. I’ll forgive you, and we’ll get married. "Just come out and everything will be all right."


Yes the poor guy is insane. But look at the scene. He’s got a gun. He’s threatening her with it, and he still thinks she might marry him. What a delightful situation this is. Agent in Old Lace is full of this kind of writing. I liked it. You can get a copy here or at bookstores near you. If it isn’t on the shelf ask for it.


As far as historical fiction is concerned, I’m not disappointed. I know Tristi will eventually bring some history to our group, but I enjoy Agent in Old Lace.


Good luck with your writing---see you next week.

Another Vignette from Life...

by G.Parker

The other day I was sitting outside of a large movie theater, enjoying the warm summer evening. A tall slim woman with short blond hair and bright yellow top came by, loaded with shopping bags and a little Chihuahua. She put her bags on the stairs and then put the dog down. It ran around like it had found paradise. I've never seen a happy Chihuahua -- only snippy, snarly ones.

It came over and grinned up at me, sniffing around my legs and wagging it's stubby tail. I was hesitant to pet it, not wanting my fingers bit. After a minute it wandered back to it's owner, and she chuckled.

"He's a friendly little guy," she assured me.

"I can tell," I said, still reluctant to put it to the test.

I watched it run around the plaza, and then the lady stood up and looked at me, a cigarette in hand.

"Do you have a match?" she asked.

"Sorry," I told her, shaking my head. "I'm afraid not."

"Darn."

She looked around the area, wondering who to approach, and right then a man came out of the theater, with shaggy light brown hair, scruffy T-shirt and worn jeans, a backpack thrown over his shoulder -- holding a cigarette.

She immediately headed his way, little dog following. Right as she got up to the man, he asked, "Do you have a lighter?"

I chuckled at the interchange, and wondered what they would do.

"No!" the woman said, obviously dismayed. "I was coming to see if you had a light!"

"That's why I came out here," he said. "What do you think we can do?"

Both of them looked around the square at this point, and then a woman who was sitting at a nearby table noticed them holding the cigarettes and waved at them.

"I've got a lighter," she told them.

Both of them looked relieved as they headed her way.

"Thank you so much!" The blond woman gushed as they gathered around the table.

I watched them get their cigarettes lit, thinking it was pretty funny how a habit could unite three total strangers.

See what you can observe in your world. See ya next week.

Emotion Driven Characters

By Nichole Giles

The other day we rented the movie, “Forever Strong.” I admit, I wasn’t all that interested in watching the show, but had heard good things, and my kids really wanted to see it. So we watched it together—my husband and I, and both our daughters crammed on my bed…but that’s another story—and I think I got more out of that show than my girls did.

In the beginning, the protagonist had some serious life issues that got him into big trouble. Throughout the movie, we watched the main character learn and grow, and change his ways—with real, true motivation, and through the help of a few people who care.

By the end, he’d changed significantly, even to the point where he was able to influence others to be better, stronger people. The story, and the growth of the main character, was profound enough to make me think—and keep thinking—long after the movie was over.

It was a really good show, and a truly heartwarming story.

What makes a good story? In this case, the theme isn’t about the sport the characters play, or the dire consequences of making poor decisions—though those are subplots. The main storyline is about a person who is taught how to make better decisions, and the profound way a few caring people change his life. It’s about learning to be strong.

This is a great example of a character driven story, one crammed full of the emotions human beings experience. For me, that’s the most important thing. Human emotions. Everyone wants to feel—including our characters. In this case, the screenwriter succeeded in achieving the goal.

Another great example is the movie, “Gran Torino.” Character driven, character changes, an unexpected twist at the end that is the only possible right way to end the story. But the viewer never sees it coming. (Warning: This movie is rated “R” for language—which is really bad—and some violence in the end.)

Do you know another great example of a character driven story? Tell me about it. Let’s share.

Until next week, write on.

My Garden

By C. LaRene Hall

Many times, I’ve heard the saying, Life is like a garden – we reap what we sow. This year has been one of those years. My husband had to plant the vegetables twice because of all the strange weather we’ve had. Wouldn’t it be great if we could just replant life, the same way we do our gardens?

We can replant the life of our characters and make things turn out the way we want. We just have to be careful that it seems realistic. Our characters need to learn something, the same as each of us learns life’s lessons.

Seeds planted in my youth bloomed bright and full. My parents did a good job teaching me. Although I didn’t always listen every time, some of the things they taught stuck. I have found that in the early afternoon of my life, I have reaped many fruits of my life’s harvest, and I raised a bumper crop. It’s good to look around and see the full circle of color.

Father's Day Tribute

By Darvell Hunt

G. David Hunt: August 1937 - February 2009

I miss you, Dad!

Silence is Golden

By Ali Cross

Imagine if you couldn’t speak. What would you do? How would you let people know what you were thinking, feeling, what you needed?

At the end of a vacation in which there was neither time nor opportunity to write, I felt very much like such a person.

I ate up the miles behind the wheel imagining what I would write about next, how I would change or improve my current stories and how wonderful it would feel to be able to express myself again.

In many ways, taking such breaks from writing can be good for you—absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that jazz. You get to step back from your writing and, for a change, see the forest, instead of just the trees. You can cleanse your mind, like taking a sniff of cocoa beans after sampling perfume. (I’m trying to see how many similes I can come up with in one paragraph, like a brunch buffet on a Saturday morning.)

I willed my car to fly over the miles that separated me from my goal—to spend a few hours of peace and quiet with nothing but my stories to keep me company. Since simply willing the time to pass more quickly didn’t work, I entertained myself on the long drive by writing in my mind, or, as Terry Brooks says, daydreaming.

Easily as important as the time you spend with fingers on the keys, or pen to paper, daydreaming is an essential part of any good storyteller’s routine. We need to be able to let our mind flow over the ideas, collecting and discarding them as they come. Allow all your senses to come into play and immerse yourself into the story as you did when you were a child.

So what if you couldn’t speak? Assuming it’s a temporary thing, you might cherish the silence. Similarly, if you’re without pen and paper or in my case, a laptop and power supply, treasure the time you have to dream. Silence, as they say, can truly be golden.

A Little Promoting

By Keith Fisher

I was in the bookstore, and two things grabbed my attention. I heard an old song I used to play and sing. And I bought a book.

Thirty years ago, I spent a lot of time playing my guitar and wasting time. I didn’t foster delusions that I would be a great rock star or anything, I did play at a few weddings but other than that, I wanted to escape adulthood.

My friends and I liked to play Neil Young songs. I liked the Eagles with a few rock and rollers and obscure songwriters thrown in. Did you ever follow Hoyt Axton’s career? Anyway, I loved to play Sugar Mountain by Neil Young. I could relate. You see if you managed to stay at the carnival forever, you wouldn’t have to grow up and be responsible.

That was the song I heard at the bookstore. It wasn’t Neil Young singing, but it took me back over the years to a time when I felt the same way.

Also, I bought a copy of Cup of Comfort for New Mothers. My friend, Kim Thompson, was a contributing author and she told a touching story of when her youngest child was born in severe respiratory distress.

When I met her, Kim found out I was writing in the LDS market. She told me she wanted to try writing. I asked why she didn’t, and so she started writing. If anyone ever had natural talent she does. She brings first drafts to critique group and we’re amazed. (Some of the ladies threatened to drown her.) :) I told her she would be published before me, and she was.

Now, She stands on the brink of having her book published. Kim signed a contract with Valor Publishing Group. Her book, currently titled I’ll know You by Heart, will be released in March 2010. She will be writing under the name Kimberly Job. Keep an eye on her---she has a future in this business.

So this is my Saturday morning state of mind. I wanted to promote Kim. To let you know about the name change and give her the credit she deserves. Those of us in our critique group are very happy to rub shoulders with her.

Now, lets see, that means everyone in our group has a book published or coming out. Well, except me, but I’m working hard---won’t be long now.

Good luck with your writing---see you next week.

Using Life Experiences...

by G.Parker

One of the most common suggestions for writing is to write what you know. That's why many authors use everyday things in their stories. It's why we writers are observers. We need all the experiences we can absorb.

There are somethings though, that come across as unreal, no matter how real they are. In the book I've written about my vacation to Hawaii, my critique group has commented more than once about something I've written in there, and my statement has been, "But that's how it happened!" grin.

Take this story related to me by a co-worker: She had been to a local Wal Mart, and realized that this couple was following her. It kind of spooked her, and she tried to turn corners quickly and get her errand done so that she could loose these people and get out of the store. She finally got to the check out and figured she'd lost them, when she turned around -- and there they were! As she started checking out, the woman got her attention.
"Um, can we tell you something?" she asked.
My friend said "I guess so."
The woman pointed at her feet and said "You have the sexiest feet we've ever seen!" Her husband nodded his head, both of them wearing serious expressions.
"Sexy feet?" my friend repeated, totally surprised by their statement.
The cashier heard what they were saying and was suddenly excited.
"Can I come see?" She came around the counter and looked at my friend's feet. "Oh yeah, they are sexy!"
Here they were, in a line at the checkout stand, and everyone was admiring my friend's 'Sexy feet'. There were several people in line behind her, but no one else seemed to think it was odd.

She was so embarrassed she just wanted out of there.

You see, my friend is a shoe fiend. She thinks shoes are the greatest thing next to chocolate, but she would never look at someone's feet for their feet, she looks at the shoes. The idea that these people were looking at her feet and thinking they were sexy creeped her out.

I told my husband about it, and now it's a family joke, as to whether we have sexy feet or not.

See how stories start? If I stick that experience in a story, do you think anyone is going to think it really happened? I definitely wouldn't have...before now.

Coming Out of the Clouds

By Nichole Giles

Last week I took a drive in the canyon. I’d gone up to a small mountain town to spend a weekend with a few of my girlfriends, and though we all would have loved lounging around by the pool on Saturday afternoon, it rained the whole time we were there.

It sounds like a disappointment, but my friends and I were just happy to be in a quiet house where we could giggle and chat and watch chick flicks, so the rain didn’t bother us too much.

When I went to leave on Sunday, the rain had stopped and the sun shone—however weak—so I loaded my things in the trunk and put the convertible top down. In my mind, there’s nothing quite like the feel of mountain air on my skin, the smells of campfires, and crisp, clear water, and millions of trees caressing my senses as I traverse the winding roads listening to…whatever music suits my mood at the time.

I drove away from the house, trying not to see the dark storm clouds closing in on me. Instead of worrying about rain, I cranked my stereo up louder. Minutes later, drops of water splattered on my windshield, small and slow at first, but within a few minutes, the splats grew larger and came much faster. If you’ve ever ridden in a convertible in the rain, you realize that I wasn’t really getting wet at this yet, because I was driving faster than the water was falling. But as the storm continued, I knew that eventually it would catch up with me and I’d be drenched.

As it happens, the canyon in which I was driving is a two-lane highway in some places, and that highway becomes fairly narrow—with few or no turnoffs—around a very large, full lake. In case you were wondering, at that point, stopping to put the top up wasn’t an option. Though, if there had been a place, I probably wouldn’t have stopped anyway.

See, just as the rain was at its hardest, I looked up, wondering what I’d gotten myself into, and saw that up ahead, the clouds had parted and the sun was shining through. I told myself, “Hey, it’s not really so far away,” and kept going. Even when traffic slowed me down, and my clothes became damp, I kept moving—aimed for that sunny break in the clouds.

When I got there, it was more beautiful than I could have imagined. The side of the hill was covered in purple and yellow wildflowers, and the trees reached hundreds of feet toward the sky. The sunshine warmed and dried my skin, and I was revived.

As I was driving through this warm spot, I thought about writing, and how easy it is to get discouraged when you’re trying to drive through the storm. How hard it is to see through the clouds to the sun. Your work is criticized, and you become discouraged. Success is difficult to come by, and you get rejection after rejection, and begin to wonder if all your hard work has been in vain.

I see writing as a journey, and sometimes, we can’t help getting caught in the rain. When this happens, my advice to you is to look up. It may be hard to spot, but somewhere ahead, there’s a break in the clouds where the sun shines through on the tall trees and riot of wildflowers—a spot you can aim for where you can be refreshed and revived before diving back into the rain again.

It may be a small success, or an encouraging comment, or an agent calling to request your full manuscript—but it’s there, just ahead. Be patient. It’s closer than you think.

Have a good week. Write on.

Inspiration

by C. LaRene Hall

A few weeks ago, I went shopping, not because I wanted to, but my brother asked me to buy a picture for him to give my mom. I never found what he wanted for her, but I did find something for me. Those who know me probably realize this is unusual because I never buy things for myself.

The picture I bought pulled me right in from the first minute I saw it. I had no choice; I had to have it for my home office. In the front, some children sit facing a lake with mountains in the background. On the mountain is a castle and in the sky two unicorns. The caption says, “It’s sad when we give up the castles of our future for the fantasies of our todays.”

I would probably have made the purchase, even without the words because I love the painting. Also, I think I’d have bought a plaque with the words, even if there had been no picture. From deep inside something called, “Buy me!”

I’m usually not that impulsive and I hate shopping so I have no idea why this picture stares down at me as I sit writing at my computer, but I’m glad it does. It’s an inspiration and I’m sure it’ll help immensely because magical things make me want to write.

With a Little Help from My Friends

By Darvell Hunt


I now have over a dozen new writing friends, each of whom helped me with my writing last week. I hope I helped them as well.

I feel a strange but pleasant buzz rushing through my body, because my writing batteries are all charged up, thanks to the BYU Childrens Writers and Illustrators Conference. This was my fourth year in attendance and it was a as good as ever. Lots of writers, authors, illustrators, editors, and even a literary agent, were all gathered together in the same place, which made for a fun week.

The conference worked my writing muscles pretty hard and, while each day left me practically exhausted, each day I went back for more, I felt renewed strength. I left on Friday evening with a new toolbox full of writing goodies that I hope to use in the near future.

One of the reasons I go to conferences like this is to meet other writers, like myself. It’s nice to know there are others who are pushed from within to write compelling stories that inspire readers everywhere.

Tracy Hickman, co-creator of the popular Dragonlance fantasy world, basically taught us the tree-in-the-forest allegory as it relates to writing: If you write and nobody reads it, is it really writing at all? (That’s my translation of it, anyway; he didn’t actually say it using those words.)

I’d like to add my own little phrase to his. How about: I write, therefore I am. Hey, I like that!


Now back to writing.

Do or Do Not

By Ali Cross

Master Yoda said it all when he told the young and whiney Luke Skywalker “Do or do not. There is no try.”

That great line applies to all things in life. You either run or do not run a marathon. You either do or do not clean your house. You either do or do not write your book.

When you say “I’ll try,” you are already admitting defeat. Saying you’ll try, means you don’t believe you can succeed—you’re giving yourself an out, before you even begin. If you say you’ll try, when you fail, you have a built in excuse: “Well, I didn’t really think I could do it anyway.”

However when you commit to do something, if you fail, you are on the line.

There is no middle ground in writing. If you’re wishy-washy about your craft, you certainly won’t go anywhere. Writing requires your whole heart. Not a sliver, not even half. Only your whole heart will do.

Learning to Cope

By Keith Fisher

"Life ain’t easy then you die." How many times have you heard that statement? I’ve heard it said in many variations. I went to a self-hypnosis seminar today and didn’t get a blog posted. What a great experience it was. I will be a better man in the future.

It was quite interesting to be the only man there. Tonight I went to the Orem Summerfest parade and wrote an article about patriotism. Right now, I’m falling asleep so this is my blog for today. Next week, I’ll write two blogs to make up . . . I promise.

Good luck with your writing---see you next week.

Crossroads

by G.Parker

Lately, my life has come to a crossroads. I have to decide what it is I'm going to do about writing. I'm either going to grip the bull by the horns, so to speak, and get on the ball; or I'm going to stop writing and put away all the manuscripts that are piling up that need revisions.

I've grown tired and somewhat depressed, and I'm ready to quit. I don't normally think of myself as a quitter. Sometimes I am liable to be lazy, but I usually get things done.

But in contemplating the past two years of writing and what's been produced, I have had to take a deeper look at my abilities. Am I really capable of writing something worth publishing? Can I write anything at all that isn't full of holes and need lots of revisions before it's even suitable for submission? I don't know anymore.

The sinking empty hole in my stomach informs me that I'm not ready to give up writing yet. There's too much of my soul wrapped around the written word for me to toss it all aside.

I figure there are more people like me out there -- I know I'm not that unique or special among the society of writers. What is it that kept you at it when the hour seemed the darkest? Why was it worth it to keep plugging away at the keyboard when there didn't seem any use in it?

I guess my motivation is that I feel something would slowly die inside if I pushed that part of me away and locked it up. I also don't want to give my children an example of quitting -- perhaps they will learn from this struggle I am having and do better.

Somewhere there has to be a silver lining.

An Exhilarating Journey

By Nichole Giles

Last week, I talked about finding success in finishing a project. What you didn’t know is that when that blog posted, I was actually on a vacation with my family—and I didn’t take my computer. (Sounds like torture, huh? But actually, it was kind of nice knowing I couldn’t work on any of my projects if I had time, which I didn’t.) When we got home, my son asked, “Mom, so did you come up with any great book ideas while we were gone?”

To which I replied, “Actually, no. I’ve decided to focus my energy on the book I’m working on right now so I can get it finished before starting something new.”

He looked shocked, because I always come up with a new idea on a trip, and then I get home all excited to write down all the details. Not that I didn’t have ideas this time. But I think I’m fairly focused on two main projects, and I’ve told myself everything else has to wait, so all the ideas I had were centered on my current WIP.

Now, the issue is one of time. It’s summer vacation, and since my kids are home during the day, I’ve lost my quiet time of concentration. The best time for me to work and focus on finishing my own projects has been while the kids were at school and my husband at work.

But don’t worry. I’ll adjust. There’s nothing more exhilarating in this journey of ours than finishing the last page of a novel and knowing that you truly are finished. (Minus countless edits, of course.) It’s been a few months since I finished my last novel, and my current work has been slow moving due to my crazy, hectic life. But I will finish it!

Brandon Sanderson once gave a lecture at a BYU conference, and during his class he claimed that you have to write a minimum of five novels before you get one published—so he did just that without any expectations and miracle of miracles, his sixth (or is it fifth?) novel, “Elantris,” was purchased by Tor while he was in the process of writing number thirteen. Coincidence? I think not.

Still, I have no intention of letting my first five novels sit in a drawer forever. Nor do I intend to edit them over and over again for the next fifteen years. My very first novel will never see print—I won’t allow it because it was bad. And I have no intention of rewriting it. That particular project was a wonderful learning experience for me—and proof I could actually finish something of that magnitude. My second was much better, though a bit short for a novel, and has been submitted. That one I will follow up. It was better. My third, I dare say, is leaps and bounds ahead of the other two, and I’ve pinned a lot of hopes on it. That’s the one I’m actively submitting, and hope to follow up as a series. But we’ll see.

Meanwhile, I’m working on number four, and gathering ideas for other projects that I won’t start until the fourth is finished. With each project, I’m learning more about my craft, the mechanics of good writing, and the importance of outlining a plot. I have high hopes for every one of my manuscripts—but I’m finding the wisdom in Brandon’s words. The more I write—and finish—the better I become.

Follow up is key to success. So, write something every day, focus on as few projects as possible at one time, and remind yourself how important it is to finish what you start. You never know when that big book deal will come your way, and all the better if you have two books to submit instead of just one. Or three or four or five or fifteen…

Until next time, keep up the hard work! I wish you success.

Rain

By C. LaRene Hall

I’m sure most of you have heard the expression, when it rains, it pours. That is exactly the way I feel about my life right now. Around every corner is another challenge.

Some of the problems have been illnesses or accidents, others are some things have been breaking, but every day there’s something new to face. At least it keeps everything interesting. I can think of one good thing - with all the excitement it’s given me lots of good ideas for writing, but the big problem is time. When am I going to find time to write all that’s happening?

With everything going on all year, you’d think things would improve. Don’t ever think that – because as soon as you do, something new happens. Memorial Day was one of those days for me. I needed to spend time at the hospital with my mom, but wanted to spend time at the park with my grandchildren. Things were going great until my daughter did an amazing flip-flop right to the ground. Then instead of going to the hospital to see my mother, I had to take Annette to emergency at a different hospital.

Since then, things are going a little smoother. I certainly hope that sometime this year things will get back to the normal dull life. Maybe then I’ll have time to write more than a blog.

Practice, Practice, Practice

By Darvell Hunt

In all honesty, I believe the best way to write a great novel is to first write a bunch of crappy ones.

I spent last Saturday attempting to groom my yard (dang it, Adam and Eve, thanks for all the thorns!). My yard seems like an endless task, but on the bright side, I get to do physical exercise.

Oh wait, was that the positive side? Oh right. Yes, the physical exercise that I tend to neglect during the cold months. Now that I’m back in the yard, it seems I have to start over with my reluctant body.

I can blame my allergies, which seem to be more bothersome this year for some reason, but mostly I had to quit working early because I got pooped. I haven’t exercised my body enough this year to really get any significant work done. Not yet, anyway. I expect by summer’s end, I’ll be lifting huge rocks (of which I have plenty in my yard) and mowing the lawn in ten minutes flat.

Writing is like physical exercise. If you don’t do it often, you forget how. Your creative muscles tend to lax and you write more garbage than you like. I believe that if you can write stories as casually as chatting on the phone to your friends—and do it as often—then you are finally to the point where your stuff just might actually be good.

For me, I’m afraid, that point has come only after so many novels that I don’t count them anymore. (I think it’s around ten to twelve that I’ve finished or done considerable work on, but it’s discouraging to count them, so I stopped.)

It’s all about practicing your craft, just like exercising your body. The more you do it, the better you get at it. Hopefully, I’m getting good enough to achieve my goal of getting published this year.

I’ll let you know how it goes.