A Twisted Fairy Tale

By C.L. Beck
© 2008

Before I registered for the LTUE Sci-Fi Fantasy Symposium, I wondered ... if I attend, would I come out with the arms of an octopus and the head of a Wookie? Would bizarre people wearing Star Trek and/or Scooby Doo costumes moderate the discussions? And whereas, before attending the symposium my mailing address used to read "Anytown USA", afterwards would it read, "Space, the Final Frontier"?

I'm pleased to say, after sitting through long, but enthralling hours on a chair designed to test the fortitude of a Klingon warrior, that most people there were normal authors.

Normal authors—okay, I'm thinking that's an oxymoron. Or an insult. I'm not sure which.

As it turned out, most of the sessions covered topics applicable to a number of genres, and the attendees wore jeans and sweatshirts. Well, I take that back, I did see some guy in a long, flowing cape and gave him a wide berth—until I realized it was my husband, Russ, with a blanket around his shoulders. I'm thinking he brought his blankie along in case he got bored during the panel discussions.

On Saturday afternoon, an interesting session called, “Twisting Fairytales," caught my attention. What—fairytales aren't twisted enough already? We have to make them worse?

Take "Little Red Riding Hood" for example. In it, a wolf—one that can talk, mind you—poses as Red Riding Hood's grandmother—whom he has just eaten. Ahhh, cannibalism—that's a great topic for kids.

He lies in bed, wearing Granny’s hat and shawl. Now we have a cross-dressing cannibal—an even better theme for impressionable children.

In skips little Red Riding Hood, all dressed in a flaming red cloak with a pointed hood. One that could have could have been worn by the Emperor from Star Wars, if the cloak had been a little longer and in that figure flattering color, black.

Just wait, it gets better. Have you ever asked yourself what little Ms. Hood was carrying in that basket on her arm? Mushrooms she gathered in the woods—probably the kind that cause hallucinations.

The wolf and the girl are having a polite conversation about body parts—"Grandma, what big eyes you have"—when the wolf leaps out of bed and chases the Little Red Emperor ... er ... I mean Riding Hood out the door. In the meantime, a woodsman with a sharp hatchet dangling from his belt—no wait, maybe it's the dwarf, Gimli, with an axe tied to his head—kills the hairy beast and throws Beauty into the fires of Mordor.

Then Gimli slides the glass slipper onto the pro-feminist Ms. Hood's dainty foot, and they ride off into the sunset. Or maybe into the ocean, where she grows a mermaid's tail and Gimli becomes a singing lobster.

I'm not sure which.

One thing I do know is I enjoyed the session so much, I'm going to try writing a twisted fairy tale of my own—just as soon as I figure out how to unglue my octopus arms and take off my Wookie head.

What books C.L. recommends:
Life is Like Riding a Unicycle by Shirley Bahlmann
Publishing Secrets by LDS Storymakers (BJ Rowley and others)
Writing for Story: Craft Secrets of Dramatic Nonfiction by Jon Franklin
Self-Editing for Fiction Writers by Rennie Browne & Dave King

C.L.’s other work:
Newspaper Column

Ensign Magazine, Dec 2007-Q&A

2007 League of Utah Writer's Award-Historical Fiction

We Want To Thank . . .

We are the proud recipients of a prestigious award. Rachelle from Rachelle's Writing Spot
gave us the You Make My Day Award.

I accept this award on behalf of the group. Little did we know our humble efforts would bare such fruit. Thank You.

Of course now we are going to have to measure up to the expectations. I know that everyone else will do fine, but I’m going to have to work hard to keep up. Thanks again Rachelle.

The Chamber

By Keith Fisher

Have you ever noticed we tend to repeat ourselves as we get older? I was reading through past blogs and decided I must be getting old. I found repeated advice, even whole concepts, being introduced as if they were new and undoubtedly patting myself on the back for coming up with it.

This will be my eighty-fifth blog posted here. Since I came later, others have posted more, but I’m proud of what I’ve written. More than that, I’m grateful for the chance to post here and to all of you for reading. In her blog this week, Nichole wrote about the camaraderie of the AI writers group. Her blog caused me to think about how much help I get from the great writers who write here. Since I keep an edit file of all my blogs, I compared some of them with what was posted. I could see how much help I have received. I want to say thank you.

Like Nichole, and many of you, I’ve been caught up in the promise of spring. With another set of conferences and workshops, the excitement is thrilling. The anticipation of meeting with my fellow writers makes me think about starting a critique group. Not just any group but The Chamber. Did somebody hear an ominous echo when I said that? Let’s try it again: The Chamberrrrr. Hmmm, interesting.

Anyway, my vision includes a circular room lined with bookcases that are filled with books of every genre. There are two lockable doors built into the bookcases, and in the center of the room, a circle of five or six, overstuffed leather chairs surrounding a circular glass table. Each person in the group is given XX amount of minutes to read part of their manuscript or talk about a story question or problem they are having. After which, the rest of the group can make helpful suggestions.

The group would meet weekly for XX amount of time, then have the traditional milk and cookies (or vegetable tray for the healthy minded). We would become much wiser, better writers than when we entered the chamber. There’s that echo again.

I was in Deseret Book in South Orem, Utah the other day and sat in one of their overstuffed, leather armchairs. I felt as if I’d died and gone to heaven. I could’ve stayed there all day reading, writing and enjoying life. When it was time to leave, I had to be pulled out of the chair. That is the kind of chair of which I speak.

If I had such a chamberrrr (there’s that echo again). I would never leave. I’d write till all my projects were complete and my group would help me get them right. I would be "the man of the published pages". Hmm, no echo. Either way it would be fun getting together with other crazy . . . eccentric people who also hear character voices in their heads.

Why?

by G.Parker

We were watching the Star Trek Next Generation series II this afternoon and started to discuss why they do certain things the way they do. My daughter was asking how they played the three level chess game they always show on the series. We said we had no idea, we weren't the writers.

The thought occurred to me that writers create their own little worlds. Especially when they deal with science fiction and fantasy. I remember attending a work shop with Brandon Sanderson where he said that there are many sci-fi authors who write whole volumes about the worlds their characters inhabit that the reader never sees.

Have you ever thought about the 'why' of your story? Are you writing something that has it's own world and it's own reasoning? Be careful -- the reader is going to want to know why. They are going to expect the why to be explained, or they are likely to not finish the book. Worse than that, they are likely to complain and tell others not to read it. Even if the why is as simple as:

The reason my main character has powers she never knew she had was because they were blocked in her head until an experience opened up the blocked section and allowed them to work.

That's all it takes. Slip that into the story line somewhere, and it explains the plot or action, making things click and make sense. If a story doesn't make sense, it doesn't grab my attention and I won't keep reading.

This weekend I get to go to a science fiction/fantasy seminar and listen to Brandon Sanderson again, along with Orson Scott Card and others who are well known in the craft. I look forward to more tidbits that will help me to write better. Hopefully I'll be able to share some of them with you next week. Untill Until then...

Success is Contagious

By Nichole Giles

It’s been almost three years since I attended my first writer’s conference, where I joined my first writer’s group. At first, even the idea of admitting I wanted to write was overwhelming. But little by little, and bit by bit, I realized these people felt like I did. We had something very important in common.

We all must write.

Some of us write for fun, unconcerned about submitting our work regularly. Others write for growth, constantly submitting to different markets and trying out different genres while they search for their niche. There are even those in our group who write as a form of self-expression, as a way to make some kind of mark in the world. But we all write because we have no choice. Because there are voices in our heads that won’t be silenced until they’ve had their say, and mysteries that keep us awake at night trying to fit the puzzle pieces together until finally, we find the time to transfer them to paper.

No one understands these needs better than another writer. From them, we find the help and support to hone our skills, to strengthen our voice, and to polish our work.

In the three years since I joined, many of the writers in our group have sold articles and short stories to magazines, anthologies, and compilations. Others have even jumped up in the rankings and signed book contracts with publishers.

I know my work has improved over the last three years. Developing good writing habits has helped, but I know a great deal of my progress is due to my association with other people. These people motivate me, they help me see my weaknesses and point out my strengths, but most of all they encourage me.

Right about the time I get discouraged, someone in our group gets a taste of success. Their happiness is contagious as the powdery, inky aroma of a contract wafts throughout the group. We begin to salivate as the smell becomes stronger, and we pay close attention to the other people in the group, wondering who will be the next one to be granted a luscious taste. Then, someone else takes a bite—sometimes a nibble, sometimes a mouthful—and the others work harder and become better until the next person is granted permission to feast.

You see, even though we live in the real world—and consciously we know life doesn’t really work like this—most people have a hidden belief that success works like the chicken pox or the flu. If you hang out with the right person long enough, whatever they have is bound to rub off on you.

In our group, that theory continually proves itself true with one member or another sharing great news about an acceptance or contract. So here I am people! Doing jumping jacks on the table! Throw it at me, because I want to be next!

Those Thoughtless Drivers

By C. LaRene Hall

Several things bother me about people and their driving. One is waiting at a stop sign and not having people signal that they are going to make a turn. However, it’s not the thing that makes me most angry.

I only have what should be a ten-minute commute to work each morning. Every day I take the same route because the other way takes me through many school zones. As I approach the Bangerter Highway to make a left turn most of the drivers in the inside lane leave about one car length between them and the next car. The designated left turn lane has an island, and since I have a small car instead of a large truck, I can see plenty of room for me, but have to wait to get into the turn lane. Sometimes this wait takes a couple of lights before I can move forward for the turn. I know if each car pulled forward a little, I could get to work in half the time.

My next turn is right, and the same thing happens. You can’t pull into the right turn lane until you are almost to the corner. Most of the vehicles in the outside lane leave about a car length between them and the car in front. If they would pull up a little closer then I could make my turn sooner and be on my way.

I believe this simple process has not occurred to many drivers. I’m sure they aren’t trying to keep me hostage and prevent my going to work, but sometimes it seems that is exactly what they are doing.

Sometimes I feel this way about sending my written word out to publishers. Since I’m just a small insignificant person who has never published anything, they won’t even give me a chance. Yes, I know they have lots of mail. I also know they only take certain things, but I research carefully who to send my stories to, so I think they should at least read what I’ve written. Maybe they think they can push one more writer off the road, but this isn’t going to stop me. I’ll keep plugging along until someone lets me through.

Endearing Young Charms

C.L. Beck
© 2008

The remaining leaves on the trees rustled like dried bones in the wind and the clouds resembled fingers of doom. I'm sure it was an omen—but not about the weather—a sign of the strange morning crouched ahead, waiting to pounce.

My husband, Russ, and I ignored it and drove to Nephi for breakfast. When we walked into the restaurant, we noticed very few patrons. Ahhh, another omen.

We sat in a booth without removing our jackets. “It’s cold in here,” Russ said, blowing on his fingers to stave off frostbite.

I wiggled in my seat. “It feels like I’m sitting on a snow bank in Alaska. In fact, my … um … sitter … is so numb, I can’t feel it.”

Russ eyed that portion of my anatomy with a raised eyebrow and tried not to laugh.

“Should we stay?” I whispered, my elbow landing in a sticky puddle of leftover syrup.

“Yes—I need to use the men’s room,” Russ said as the waiter walked toward us. We placed our order and Russ headed to the bathroom.

I sat looking over my shoulder, watching the waiter press little buttons with pictures to indicate our choices.

Have you ever wondered about that? If the waiters need little pictures of food to punch in the order, what is the chef using to cook?

Engrossed in watching our server, I didn’t realize it appeared I was staring at the guy standing between us. Hearing his voice, I refocused my attention on the very large man. His jeans seemed held up by something unusual—either a rope, or a long, frayed snake. I wanted to determine which, but staring at his pants didn’t seem like a good idea. He might get the wrong message, walk over and sit with me.

His hair stuck straight up as if he’d combed it with a blender and he looked like he’d lost his razor somewhere in Fargo, North Dakota. As he continued to speak, I decided he was a trucker. The next thing I knew, he stood beside me.

“Boy, this state is really something,” he thundered. “They’ll sell you a pack of cigarettes, but they won’t let you smoke ‘em inside.”

I felt like saying if he didn’t like Utah, he could certainly feel free to keep driving. But he was really big, so instead I said, “Yes, that’s how it is here,” and looked away.

Despite my subtle signals, he rattled on. “We ought to do what they’re doing in California. Sign a petition that we’re being discriminated against!”

This nut was latching onto me. Where was Russ when I needed him? The behemoth seemed to be waiting for some sort of answer, so in a voice that could deep-freeze a hot tamale, I replied, “Well, I’m not a smoker, so you’re not going to get much help from me.”

Did he get my understated message? No. In a voice heard in Detroit he bellowed, “There’s some stadium in Michigan that’s being built with money from smokers and the place is going to be non-smoking. Non-smoking!” And then he belched.

I threw the woolly mammoth a look that should have skewered him. What—didn’t he hear me say, “I’m not a smoker so you’ll get no help from me?”

What was taking Russ so long? Was the little boy’s room in the gas station across the street? If he didn’t return soon, the man might think we were friends and eat half my ham and eggs.

Just then, Russ walked in, and though the Titan was a large man, he was fleet of foot. He scurried back to his table and never looked at me again.

“Where have you been?” I hissed. “That big guy over there wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Russ grinned. “He must have been attracted to your endearing young charms.”

Endearing young charms? Those disappeared ages ago. In fact, only two guys had flirted with me in the past decade—the rope-tied behemoth and an inmate at the state mental hospital who thought I was a fellow patient.

Things like that are hard on a gal’s ego. I’m not sure how to resurrect my feminine wiles, but I suppose I really should try.

Maybe I’ll get my nose pierced and buy a leather skirt. That should help.


What books C.L. recommends:
Life is Like Riding a Unicycle by Shirley Bahlmann
Publishing Secrets by LDS Storymakers (BJ Rowley and others)
Writing for Story: Craft Secrets of Dramatic Nonfiction by Jon Franklin
Self-Editing for Fiction Writers by Rennie Browne & Dave King

View C.L.’s other work:
Newspaper Column
Photography Website

Like a Kid in a Candy Store

By Keith Fisher

When I was a kid, we often rode our bicycles to Woolworth's department store. It was about two miles away and the closest place where we could get penny candy. In those days (the late nineteen-sixties), we could get several pieces of candy for one penny. The candy was similar to the stuff we distribute for Halloween, but there were other, more delicious choices.

Pixie Sticks to Bit-O-Honey and Jawbreakers. Licorice Whips, and Sugar Daddy. All for a penny, some of it was five for a penny. The candy bars we pay seventy-five cents for today cost a nickel then, and soda pop was ten cents.

Yes, it was a wonderful time to be a kid. We could go to the store with the dollar we earned from picking cherries and come home with a bag full of candy and change to boot.

I was reminded of that magical time the other day, while I lounged in an armchair in the public library. I looked up from my research and noticed the stacks of books in their racks, lined up like soldiers and extending into the next room. When you add the fact that there is three floors of those books . . .

It’s not that I never noticed it before but I was re-awakened to the thrill of it all. There are thousands of books that I can read. I was struck with the simile of the candy store. Like when I was a kid perusing the shelves and bins trying to decide which morsel of candy to buy, I looked at all those books and realized I could never, ever read all of them in my lifetime, and the collection keeps increasing daily. Just like a bag of candy, I can check out stacks of literature and take it home in my backpack.

I was also reminded of an old Twilight Zone episode. It was the one where Burgess Meredith escapes the holocaust and finds the library intact. He starts organizing the books into piles of books. Each pile representing days of the week. He planned to read his way through eternity—he sat down to begin, and accidentally broke his reading glasses.

He was in agony. He had all of those books, the time to read them, and no way to accomplish his goal. Do you ever feel like this? Books to read, stories to write, and so many things competing for your attention? Likewise with all the fiction in the world, we can only read one book at a time. We must choose which book warrants our attention.

Like the candy, with so many books to choose from, how do I pick? I can narrow it down by genre, LDS or not, even number of words, but in the end I am left with the same criteria that slush pile readers use to determine which manuscript is worthy of a second look. If the first few pages are poorly written, I must move on.

Something to think about when you choose which combination of words to use in the first chapter of your new book. Good luck with your writing, see you next week.

Don't Put it Off

by G.Parker

A theme has seemed to present itself to me over the past week or two. Along with Keith's blog about procrastinating the keeping of the history for his family and the ensuing weeks of mourning for President Hinckley, the message inserted itself into my brain: Don't put it off any longer.

Don't put off recording dad's stories of WWII or Korea or Vietnam - those are things you will never be able to hold onto again. Now is the time to keep the journal as President Eyring suggested at the last conference. It is crucial to write those words that are pounding in your brain to get out to the world.

Our time here on this earth is short - relatively - and we tend to procrastinate. Oh, we think it is just little things: I'll mail that card tomorrow when I have more time. I'll call that old friend tomorrow, I don't have time now. They won't care if we don't visit until next month, they'll understand how busy we are.

But what if they aren't there tomorrow? We never know how much time any of us has been given. Our lives are a joy, a mission and a challenge. It's our responsibility to take these hours into our hands and mold them into what they could be. Many people are heard to mutter "I was always wanting to write a book..." Are you one of those? If so, what happened? Why haven't you even started?

While it's important to keep track of our day-to-day responsibilities, sometimes we get too caught up in the things that don't really matter - especially when it involves other people. Take hold of the lives around you now, and make yours what you want it to be. Be known for not letting the moment pass you by. Become someone a friend can trust to share words of inspiration, or for the loved one who is struggling; instead of forgetting or putting it off until tomorrow.

Each new day is a gift. Treasure these gifts and make use of them - there's no better time than NOW.

On a Red Rock Cliff

By Nichole Giles

The air was unusually cold for an evening in early February, but it was warmer by far than the place we’d left behind. I held my arms close to my body and fastened another button on my jacket as my children scaled the red rock formations that dominated the surrounding landscape.

Madi picked up a palm-sized piece of the beautiful rock. “Mom, is this sandstone?”

“Yes, Madi, I think it is.”

We examined the stone while she debated whether or not this was the perfect piece of sandstone to take back to her teacher. Upon hearing that Madi was going to take a rock home, my son Mckay decided that he was also going to find a perfect rock. While the two of them scoured the area, my other two kids continued climbing.

I was dividing my gaze between my two youngest and my two oldest children when something caught my eye. Not far away, the rocks stacked up and formed a natural tower, on which was perched a lone figure. Her long hair waved gently in the evening breeze as she scribbled furiously in the notebook on her lap. As I watched, her pen went still and she looked out over the city, her gaze sweeping far and wide for several minutes before she looked back to her notebook and began writing again.

I should do that, I thought. Take a notebook and a pen and find a beautiful, solitary place that might inspire me to pour out beautiful musings on a piece of paper.

Then I remembered my kids, and my husband who stood near me, and knew that it wasn’t possible during this trip. As we finished our excursion and went to get some dinner, I couldn’t stop thinking about that solitary woman and the peace I’d seen in her eyes as she sat alone on a red rock cliff and wrote whatever words came into her mind.

I’ve felt that way before, many times. I remember having that feeling as I stared at the endless ocean while its waves crashed to the shore. As I witnessed geysers erupting from somewhere deep within the earth, and animal life wandering aimlessly near the side of a road in Wyoming. I’ve had that feeling as I stared at the mountains in the fall, and the sunset in the summertime, and down through crystal-clear pure, blue water and into a completely different world below the surface.

I will never stop being amazed and inspired by the many beautiful things in our world. So I write them. Most days, it doesn’t matter if the words will never be published. It would be sinful for me to keep those things to myself, to not share—or at least record—that feeling.

Our weekend getaway ended the next day. As we drove out of town, I decided that someday, I’m going to go back to those cliffs with a notebook and pen, when I can sit and write in solitude for just a little while and have a taste of what it’s like to create something wonderful in such beautiful surroundings.

We came home to piles and piles of fresh white snow. And I complained because it’s cold and wet and icy, and those are my least favorite weather conditions. But then I looked up, and saw snow covered mountains and low, dark clouds. And I remembered that there is beauty in all things—even the frustrating cold things—if only I take the time to look.

Granted, I won’t be climbing that mountain and sitting alone to write in the snow. That’s something I can’t imagine myself doing. But I can sit in my warm house, with a thick, soft blanket and a cup of warm cider (or hot chocolate) and write on my computer as I stare out at the soft white flakes that keep falling and falling and falling. And I can be glad for the inspiration that comes to me every single day. Even though I can’t always see it through the snow.

Polishing Your Finished Product

By C. LaRene Hall

I wonder how many people finish writing and are so anxious to send their manuscript out they forget the necessary steps to make sure that someone will accept it. I hate to say it, but in my endeavors to help someone with their baby, it seems many of them forget to use the spell and grammar check program on their computer. I also noticed the same thing when I was a judge for a writing contest last year.

I don’t ever send anything to anyone without first checking the spelling and grammar. I’m positive if you send something to a publisher without first checking to see if these things are correct, they probably won’t even finish the first paragraph before throwing it in the slush pile. If you are going to send it to professionals then you should act the part.

I can’t understand why someone who takes the time to write a story wouldn’t want every page perfect. I’ve put together a checklist for self-editing that you can use. Print this off and check each step before sending your manuscript to anyone…including fellow writers who are proofing for you.

1. Read your own work aloud. Look for word problems such as missing words, wrong homonyms, and confusing words. If you stumble when reading a sentence, so will your reader. Make sure you don’t overload your story with too many facts.
2. Use a spell-check program. Remember it only tells you if you’ve spelled the word correctly. It doesn’t know if the word you used is the correct one.
3. Check for proper grammar.
4. Make sure you used proper punctuation.
5. Organize your article or story so it flows smoothly and in sequence.
6. Make sure the meaning of your story is clear.
7. Make a printout. Go through your story with a pencil in hand, and you'll spot problems that might have escaped you on the computer screen. Use different colored pencils and do the following:
a. Underline every to be verb.
b. Underline cliché. Write your own twisted phrase instead of using the same old one.
c. Underline preposition, if a sentence has more than five re-write it.
d. Underline all passive sentences. Rewrite every sentence into the active voice.
e. Underline all split infinitive then re-write the sentence.
f. Cut all the clutter and unnecessary phrases.

I would rather read a story for someone that has completed the steps above. With those things done I can concentrate on the plot, the characters, and the flow of the story. Sometimes I end up so busy checking the spelling and grammar that I put the other things on the back burner. I hope this reminder will help you remember to polish your story before sending it to anyone.

President Romney

By Darvell Hunt

I have already referred to Mitt Romney as President Romney, as he was my stake president for awhile in 1987.

Mitt Romney has a fairly good chance of being called President Romney again, but this time by a much broader population.

Whether you think he should be called that or not, you should get out to vote today on "Super Tuesday," if your state is one of those in which a vote is being taken.

Please, get out and support your candidate, whomever it may be!

A Few Good Links

By C.L. Beck
© 2008

It’s been said that an intelligent man (or woman) isn’t the one who knows all the answers, but is the one who knows where to find the answers. To that end, here is a list of links for market books. Not that I want to be a source of advertising for them—it’s just that if you don’t have the cash to invest in buying the book, their free, online newsletters can be a good source of information.

(The follow information is from Market Books' newsletter.)

The Market Books have web pages with information about each book and a place to sign up for an online newsletter geared to each specific subject. To check these mini-sites out and sign up for the free newsletters, go to:
· Novel & Short Story Writer's Market http://www.novelandshortstory.com
· Children's Writer's & Illustrator's Market http://www.cwim.com
· Poet's Market http://www.poetsmarket.com
· Guide to Literary Agents http://www.guidetoliteraryagents.com
· Photographer's Market http://www.photographersmarket.com
· Artist's & Graphic Designer's Market http://www.artists-market.com
· Songwriter's Market http://www.songwritersmarket.com


Interested in markets in the United Kingdom and Ireland? Then check out, Writer's Market UK at: http://www.writersmarket.co.uk


What books C.L. recommends:
Life is Like Riding a Unicycle by Shirley Bahlmann
Publishing Secrets by LDS Storymakers (BJ Rowley and others)
Writing for Story: Craft Secrets of Dramatic Nonfiction by Jon Franklin
Self-Editing for Fiction Writers by Rennie Browne & Dave King

View C.L.’s other work:
Newspaper Column
Photography Website

The Best Intentions

By Keith Fisher

Have you ever noticed that each of us spends our life telling others and ourselves we are going to do better next time? Doesn’t matter what it is, we are constantly vowing to complete a task, or do a good deed.

We promise we will visit our aged relatives, we promise to spend more time with our children. We swear that this will be the year when we finish our novel.

In 1993 my wife and I invested in a used video camera. It was a bulky affair, gigantic by the technology standards of today, but I digress. About that time my grandmother discovered we had it and told me to visit her so she could talk to her posterity on tape and tell all the family stories and legends. I promised I would.

As the years passed, I visited my grandma often but I never seemed to remember to take the video camera and tape her interview. A few years later, we bought another, smaller video camera, but I never took it to Grandma’s.

Grandma never forgot her request and I continued to promise, but never seemed to remember to do it. In 1999 Grandma was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and her mind quickly faded. I remembered my promise but it was too late. I had failed in my duty. What could have been a wonderful blessing for my extended family was lost.

Shortly after the diagnosis, Grandma gave her grandchildren copies of hand written-stories and family group sheets she had been compiling for years. Almost as many years as she had been asking me to come and interview her.

When I received her gift, I browsed through the papers and found familiar information. Some of the info was new, however, and I filed it away for the future. My grandmother died in 2005 and I was asked to speak at her funeral. I went through those records looking for something I could use that would give her a voice at her own funeral, something that would express her love for all of us. I found some of those things in the stories she had written down.

After her funeral, I once again remembered her request. Tears flowed when I realized how much greater her gift would have been if everyone could see her speaking to them across time and from beyond.

Now I sit here trying to revise and edit five books in order to get them submitted to the publisher. I’m reminded of my procrastination and wonder why I allow so many things to distract me from my goal. Many of those distractions are vital in my life. Things like family, church, and the day job, but some of them are not.

I can’t imagine what will happen to my manuscripts if they are not published before I die. Perhaps there is a lesson we can learn from my grandma to not wait—to take matters in our own hands, to make sure our stories get published.

Good luck in your writing, see you next week.

Be...The Best

by G.Parker

There are many examples in our lives we are given which encourage us to move forward. As a writer, many times we see these examples in things not necessarily related to writing, but they fit. Today's message is one of those times.

A great man, Gordon B. Hinkley, passed on to the other side this week. He was such an example to us all -- I'm sure his reunion on the other side took several hours. He will be remembered by those of us left behind for many things -- not the least of which were his 'B's'. I was past the point where I really paid attention to the Young Women program when he expressed those ideas to the youth, so I didn't quite catch on. I have since, and I'm going to display those B's in my home as soon as I paint them up.

But I was laying in bed the other morning, taking the opportunity to try and sleep before having to get the rest of my family up and thought: "What would the prophet have done during this time? He would have gotten up and read the scriptures. He would be having a light breakfast perhaps and reading the newspapers." And thus this blog was born.

I have a different set of B's that I want to share from his life of examples. They are useful for any writer to follow.

1. Be Diligent. He was always working on the Lord's errands. He was in his 90's, but he didn't let that slow him as it would have others.

2. Be a Doer. One of the comments I heard about him was he was a 'doer'. He was always doing things for others, following up on ideas and coming up with new ones. He was not one to sit and relax for very long. I'm told that the schedule he kept would have had a younger man exhausted.

3. Be of good cheer. While most writers don't set out to be funny, laughter is always good. Humor will help anything sell and makes life go much smoother. This man had a marvelous sense of humor.

4. Be loving. We need to be loving to our family, friends, neighbors and everyone we come in contact with. We need to think of that love as we write what we're given to share with others. My goal in my writing is to be an instrument in the Lord's hands to bring comfort and strength to those that read my work -- that means there needs to be love felt within the words. He drew normally tough men to his side and made them his friends. He loved everyone, regardless of faith, religion, affiliation, or tie, and they knew it.

5. Be constant and always moving. I'm not sure if his was the story of the North Star or not, but it fits the analogy that I'm sharing. Be consistent, constant and steady. Don't let fear dissuade you from your goal, he never did. Some of the things he attempted would have had me be a nervous wreak, but he had such faith, such strength of character that no one ever knew if he really felt any of that. It didn't matter, he was on the Lord's errand. As a writer, many things will come to try derailing you from your goals. Story lines will falter, friends will be harsh in their criticism, and publishers will reject your words. What will keep you moving? What will be your driving force? Make sure it's something that can be printed and done on a poster on your wall by where you write. Have it be your mantra. You can do it.

I know that there is much more that could be used as examples from this man's life. I'm sure there is much I have yet to learn from him, but I hope that perhaps this weekend as we say our final goodbyes, we can take some of what he tried to show us and put it into our own lives. Become better at whatever it is we do, be it writer, parent, child. Be the best we can be.

So it Seems...

By Nichole Giles

Have you ever known a person who was adamantly positive that things in a certain situation were exactly the way they look to that person? This person might stand on the sidewalk observing a family through a window watching a father pat his son on the head as they bow their heads to give thanks for a bountiful feast. The mother unties her apron while a daughter carries a pie into the room and sets it in the middle of a table laden with food. From the back yard, a dog can be heard yipping happily.

What that person doesn’t see, and can’t possibly know from the window view, is the trouble and pain behind the smiles. This is what we—the writers—must provide.

Perhaps that father has been laid off from his job, or the daughter might be about to announce some disappointing and life changing news to her parents. Maybe the feast on the table is the family’s last meal together before the mother is sent off to war in a far away country. The dog might be yipping happily because it is finally being fed for the first time in many days.

Those problems, the emotion behind the one dimensional picture window, give those characters depth and change the dynamic of the scene and within that family. That is our role. It is a writer’s job to not only see the story behind the scene, but to then show the story between the lines for our readers to see. It is only then that our story becomes a story rather than a picture through a one-dimensional window.

This is crucial and necessary because though there are people in the world who would believe it, the majority of us know that things are not always as they seem, a fact for which I am eternally grateful.

Real life is a mystery, and I think that’s grand.

Stepping Stones

By C. LaRene Hall

Life is a grindstone whether it grinds us down or polishes us up depends on us. --Thomas Holdcroft

When I read this, I came to a fast stop. It has certainly been hard for me to pick up and get going this year. I don’t want anything to grind me down. Instead, I want the grindstone to shape and smooth me a bit.

I guess that means it needs to polish me, and I need to do something since it won’t do it just because I ask. A long time ago, I learned anything of value is worth working for. To me writing is valuable.

I’m going to take the leap, and uncover a few stepping stones to help me on my way. I’ve already taken the first step by signing up for the upcoming LDStorymakers Writer Conference. Their workshops always give me a giant boost.

I’ve also started the next step and that is deciding what I’m sending out this month. Now I just need to finish it and send it on its way. I guess I should follow the advice of President Kimball, “Do it now!”

I’ve been dragging my feet with a story that needs some work on the dialogue. Maybe that’s something I need to fix. I think about it every day, but I dread doing it because I don’t know how to tell when I have enough dialect. I know a little goes a long way.

The next stepping-stone that I need to take is working on my next novel. I started it and I’ve done enough research since I visited the setting of the area. I honestly don’t know why I can’t go any farther. I just sit and stare into space.

I finished most of the other loose ends before the new year so now I just need to let my head and heart join together and take one small step at a time in finding new ideas. Once I set my mind to it, I usually can do what I need to do.

The Prodigal Story

By Darvell Hunt

Stories that have unexpected U-turns can be a good thing. Readers hate predictable plots and they don’t sell well. We generally always like surprise turns in a good story.

Unfortunately, writers have a different type of U-turn that can be annoying and not at all enjoyable.

I’m working to write a novel this month, according to Tristi Pinkston’s “Novel in a Month Challenge.” Much to my disappointment, I found that I didn’t like where my story was taking me and I began looking for another direction to go. Frankly, I think I missed a hidden left turn a few miles back.

As such, I’m probably not going to reach my goal of completing a novel this month. I feel that it’s better sometimes that we, as writers, take a few steps backwards, or maybe even make a U-turn if it’s necessary, to make sure our story ends up where we think it should.

As most writers know, stories can and do take on a life of their own. Most of the time, that’s a good thing, but sometimes it’s not. All my stories seem like my babies to me. Sometimes when they grow up, they begin to go down wayward paths and become lost. When that happens to my stories, I often find myself asking, “What on earth happened?”

In these cases, I try to take steps to correct the wayward story and, sometimes, I just have to let it go and forget about it.

I’m hoping to find that my current project becomes “the prodigal story,” or a story that will return to the right path once I figure out what went wrong. When it’s back on track, I plan to celebrate by killing the fatted calf and having a satisfying feast.

Up in the Night

C.L. Beck
© 2008

A few nights ago, after the usual tossing, turning, and fluffing of pillows, I nodded off into that dream where you’re rich, intelligent and able to fly. I’d just gathered riches when a loud, “Wham! Thump, thump!” echoed through the house.

My husband, Russ, and I bolted upright. “What was that?” I whispered.

“I don’t know,” he whispered back.

I’m not sure why we whispered. Whatever was downstairs made enough racket to cover the roar of a jet engine.

We sat there, our ears pricked like barn cats listening for mice. Finally I said, “Why don’t you go see what made that noise?”

“Why don’t you?” Russ replied.

“Because that’s your job. There’s an unwritten law dating back to the Garden of Eden. Husbands must warm their wives’ cold feet and they are responsible for checking out things that go bump in the night.”

Russ reluctantly slid out of bed, mumbling his opinion of unwritten laws, and headed toward the bedroom door. “Wait. Aren’t you going to take a weapon?” I asked.

“What would you suggest?” he said, looking around a room filled with books and knickknacks.

Remembering the recent news of the shooting death of a professional football player who kept a machete for self-defense, I didn’t bother to drag out the sword from under the bed. “How about that book on body language,” I said, pointing at it.

“Oh, that’ll be a big help.”

“At least you’ll know—by his subtle signals—when he plans to whap you over the head,” I replied.

Opening the bedroom door, Russ started downstairs. I intended to follow, in case he needed help, but the moonlight reflecting on the snow distracted me.

Russ called from the T.V. room, “Come and look at this.”

I figured he’d conked a burglar over the head and wanted praise, so it was safe to go down. As I walked into the room, Russ cracked open the curtains. On the outside windowsill sat a stunned, befuddled dove.

“She must have flown into the window by accident. That’s what made all the noise,” Russ said.

We stood there, hesitant, wondering what we should do to help the poor bird. “You could catch her and bring her in to warm up,” I said.

Russ pulled on a sweatshirt and stepped out into the frigid night. The person driving by craned his neck at the sight of a hooded figure wearing pajama bottoms and slippers with no socks, carrying a shoebox and creeping along the sidewalk. I fully expected the guy to steer into a snow bank. I’m certain it was enough to scare the bird into consciousness, because she took off like a shot.

With the dilemma solved, we traipsed back to bed. Just as the cold in my feet transferred over to Russ’s, the noise happened again.

“It’s that bird,” Russ explained in a sleep-filled voice.

I relaxed in the blanket’s fluffy warmth and while slipping into dreamland mumbled, “But birds don’t fly at night.”

Wham! Thump, thump.

We trudged back downstairs and Russ looked out the window—ice had formed on the sill. “I don’t see anything,” he said, “It must be so cold that the birds are falling out of the trees. I’m going out to see if they’re lying on the sidewalk. Maybe I can rescue them.”

It was after midnight. The same man who didn’t want to go downstairs in the cold and dark to check for burglars now wanted to step out into five below temperatures in his pajamas—again—and rescue birds?

Wanting to do my part, I stayed inside where it was warm and watched from the window. Russ stepped to the edge of the sidewalk, looking perplexed—no birds. His eyes scanned the pine tree, searching for frozen doves falling from the sky when ….

A large, dark shape dived from the boughs, buzzed Russ, and hooted as it flew over to an elm. Giving Russ a cranky look, it sat there, waiting for its chance to return to the pine.

Mystery solved, Russ stepped back inside and said, “The doves weren’t falling out of the trees in a frozen stupor. A predator was chasing them.”

“Well, owl be,” I said.

Crossing Over

By Keith Fisher

I was challenged by a friend this week, to read a book by a certain LDS fiction author. I won’t mention the writer’s name to save myself the anger of the fans that love her work. Suffice it to say you would know who it is.

I was reluctant to read the book because it’s Romantic fiction, but it’s also Chick Lit. What is Chick Lit you ask? Its literature written for woman, about women, with situations only a woman can appreciate.

Don’t get me wrong, I like to think I’m a sensitive guy, but I’m a man, and I often think like one. My friend wanted a legitimate reason that I had never cracked open one of her favorite author’s books and I couldn’t think of an answer that wouldn’t insult the entire female population of the planet. (Well that’s probably not true. I’m sure the monkeys in Africa haven’t heard of the author.) I was between books anyway, so I said I’d read.

My friend not only lent me the book she brought the sequel. I guess she figured I needed some intense training, at any rate, I opened the book. After about fifty pages I began to worry about my testosterone levels. After a hundred, I decided it was a good story. I overlooked the exclusively feminine undertones and discovered a story with a moral that teaches people to never take anyone for granted.

Of course the story is like a big soap opera, but so is the bulk of what I’ve been reading lately, not to mention my life. The only difference is the emphasis placed on love and human relationships. With all the sappy, gooey, pathetic tear jerking prose I read this week, I discovered a couple of interesting things. I liked the story and I found a new genre.

As I mentioned before in this blog, the majority of readers who buy LDS fiction are female and for some reason, women love sappy romances. At this point a light bulb appears over my head and I decide it might be profitable to become a romance writer.

Can you see it now? Me at the Super Bowl party in a room full of manly men, someone says, "I didn’t know you were an author, what kind of books do you write?"
I look him in the eye, and with a straight face, say, "Romance novels."

You laugh, but the last time I visited the bookstore I noticed the number of romance novels exceeded most other genres. Closely followed by mysteries and suspense. So I might rethink my genre. Maybe I’ll add horror and re-write an old television show. I could call it Love Transylvanian Style.

Thanks to my friend--I really did like the book. And to all the rest of you, Good luck with your writing, I’ll see you next week.

Write, Practice, Write, Practice...

by G.Parker

Last week I mentioned that using online resources will help with your writing. This week I want to bring up another idea – writing for money or recognition. In your quest to be a great writer, you need to get recognition so that your writing becomes known. Let’s face it, the only reason many people write is because they want someone to READ their work. If no one ever sees it, it will never get noticed.

There are many ways to do this. One is blogging, which we’ve covered and which you are reading. There, see? You can get noticed! Another is writing articles for newspapers, magazines, etc. There are online sites as well that hire writers and blogger and pay for the articles. Some of them don’t pay very much, but your name gets out there and you’re getting paid for something you would want to do anyway!

Another way is finding sites that pay. One such site that is actually legit, is called Helium. I myself am a member of this writing community. They have several ways to write. There is a list of subjects and sub-subjects and you are able to see what is already written and what you can chose to write about. You can always create a new title, but I’ve found that’s more difficult – I usually pick something that’s already been written about.

They have what’s called the Marketplace which has actual online magazines that list articles they want written and how much they will pay for such an article. They specify what subject they want the article to cover and then leave it to you to get the creative juices flowing. I’ve already had one of these types of articles accepted and got paid for it. I was so excited!

So, if you feel the need for exposure and some deadlines to get your writing flowing, check out your neighborhood newspaper, magazines and online opportunities. There’s bound to be something that will get you noticed!

Following the Rules

By Nichole Giles

Whenever I go to a conference or read writing tips from editors, there is one piece of advice I hear consistently over and over again. The editors always suggest reading back issues—for magazine’s you’re submitting to—or books on the publisher’s list. This advice is always followed by an admonition to read and strictly follow submission guidelines.

Submission guidelines are instructions for writers. Sometimes they even offer topic ideas and editor wish lists. Sometimes guidelines are hard to find, or when we do find them we don’t understand why we have to use a certain font, or double space, or submit by mail rather than online. I used to wonder why magazines were so strict with their word counts. But I have learned that there are reasons for all of these things and that a great majority of editors won’t look at submissions that don’t follow their simple, but strict guidelines.

Every editor I’ve heard speak has touched on the subject of following guidelines. Why? Because, let’s face it, if an author can’t follow the written instructions on the publisher’s website, how will they ever be able to follow editing instructions? Or promotional instructions?

So I ask, my dear friends, how can we writers not heed and acknowledge this advice? From word count restrictions to page format, and even to sending your work to the correct editor—we cannot minimize the importance of following directions.

After all, if you were an editor, would you look at submissions by an author who believed himself above the rules?

Luckily, these guidelines are readily available for all of us, if we just know where to look. Most publishing companies have a website that offers guidelines at the stroke of a few keys. Another excellent way to find out what a publisher expects is by writing a short note requesting guidelines and then sending it to the company with a self addressed stamped envelope. That way, all they have to do is stuff your envelope and send it back to you. Easy as pie.

Whatever your genre, and wherever you submit, don’t forget to check the guidelines. It could mean the difference between rejection and acceptance.

Breaking Into The Big League

By C. LaRene Hall

Most baseball players dream of the time they can play in the majors. They know it doesn’t happen overnight. It’s the result of many years of hard work, difficult competition, good timing and of course, a winning record. If a player makes it, he knows he played his best.

Writers are much like baseball player, if they make it, it isn’t accidental. It’s the result of a clear vision, a creative well-planned story, and lots of hard work. You don’t just one day say, “I want to be a writer.”

It’s more difficult than some people imagine. If it weren’t for the encouragement of friends and fellow bloggers, it would be a lonely road. It’s something you do by polishing the skills you have. You study all the books you can find. Then you research the facts you aren’t sure are correct. Reading many books helps your writing improve. Next, you practice the things you have learned by writing and writing some more. Most important don’t ever give up.

What’s in a Name?

By C.L. Beck
© 2008

For some unknown reason, a lot of my writing inspiration comes while I’m doing the dishes. There I stand, soap and bubbles up to my elbows, pots and pans stacked haphazardly while waiting for a good scrub and I get an idea for a blog. Is it possible my muse has a twisted side and just waits for me to start the water running before she’ll arrive?

I suppose I should be grateful she shows up at all, but it is inconvenient to try to remember ideas until all the dishes are washed. The only other alternative is to stop what I’m doing, dry my hands, and head to the computer … leaving the dishes for someone else to finish.

Wait. What’s wrong with me? Leaving the dishes for someone else to finish? Well, bless that sweet, little muse’s heart!

My dishsoap-y idea today revolved around book titles. What if the books we know and love had been born with different titles. Would we have read them anyway?

Take a gander at these:

What if The Old Man and the Sea was titled Geezer on the Big Pond?
The Scarlet Letter was titled The Big Red A. (Sounds like something from Sesame Street!)
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe was titled Out of the Closet—Tales of Big Cat and the Old Hag.
The Lord of the Rings was titled Lord of the Flies. (Oh wait, there’s already a Lord of the Flies.)
20,000 Leagues Under the Sea was titled 60,000 Miles of Salt Water—Straight Down.
The Work and the Glory was titled Trials of the Mormons—In 532 Easy-to-Read Volumes.

Those are just a few that came to mind. And I’m sure I could come up with hundreds more, but … well … those dishes are still waiting for me and the water is getting cold.

(I found this quote long after writing the above and thought you would enjoy it. "The best time for planning a book is while doing the dishes."— Agatha Christie)

What books C.L. recommends:
Life is Like Riding a Unicycle by Shirley Bahlmann
Publishing Secrets by LDS Storymakers (BJ Rowley and others)
Writing for Story: Craft Secrets of Dramatic Nonfiction by Jon Franklin
Self-Editing for Fiction Writers by Rennie Browne & Dave King

View C.L.’s other work:
Newspaper Column
Photography Website

Reading, Writing, and Visiting an Old Friend

By Keith Fisher

Reading is life’s blood for a writer. There are a few who claim reading other people’s work stifles their own creativity, but most writers will agree that reading is one of the best ways to become a better writer.

To this end, I have an ever-growing list of books to read; books I’ve heard about, books written by people I know personally, books written in my chosen genre. There are reference books, non-fiction books, and research, not to mention the magazines.

With so many things to read, and limited time to do it, I’m selective. I read the first lines, perhaps the first chapter of something and if it doesn’t grab my attention, I move on, vowing to come back and finish reading the rejected work, but somehow I never get back.

The pile of rejected books in my library caught my attention the other day. In the pile, there were great books, some by neglected writer friends. Some were manuscripts I promised to edit, others were books that should be thrown out (I can never bring myself to destroy the printed word). Anyway, I think I need to follow the example of Bill Gates. I’ve heard that he makes a stack of things he wants to read then he takes a couple weeks in retreat and does nothing but read from the stack.

Since I don’t have a retreat in Seattle, or the time to take off, I better stop adding to the pile. I need to read everything and help edit the works of those who have helped me by reading my stuff. I can’t take time to savor anymore—I need to read faster.

Okay, you caught me, I know I’ll never catch up, but maybe I can prioritize. I’ll just make more stacks and stop adding to them . . . you see the problem don’t you?

When I looked at my stack again I found an old friend. It was my missionary copy of the scriptures, dog-eared and used with torn pages, some pages with holes, all with hand written notes on them. I once called those scriptures my most valued possession.

I use new scriptures now, but they don’t fall open at the slightest touch of my hand like the others. Passages don’t seem to be in the same places, and I fight the pages trying to find what I’m looking for.

Perhaps there’s a metaphor here, but I’ll let you decide what it is. Tonight, I’m going to visit an old friend. Good luck with your writing and I’ll see you next week.

Back in the Saddle Again

by G.Parker

One of my goals for this year, as mentioned in my blog a week or so ago, stated that I would be working on editing. I have many stories that are complete and just need a good editing to be submitted. I admit -- once I write and 'finish' a story I don't like to look at it again for a while. I need to let it go away from my brain while I work on something else. Then, when I go back to it, it seems new and amazing. I think, "I wrote that?"

This month I'm working on a novel called Jenny of the Wood. Should you like to preview, I do have the first couple of chapters posted at CTRStories.com so you can check it out. This story started as a dream in my husband's head and developed into a story in mine. I'm not really a fantasy writer, I'm more of a contemporary romance writer, but I'm finding I don't have a set genre.

The reason I bring this up, is I've been editing this week. (Finally!) Last night I was able to get through several chapters, and it's like reading it for the first time. I'd forgotten the little details, the plot weaved through the pages. I didn't want to stop when it was time for bed.

This gave me a sense of hope as I turned off my computer. Perhaps those that read my book will feel the same way -- maybe it will be hard for them to put down. I'm hoping that's the reaction. Isn't that the dream of every writer?

So, if you're working on something that you're tired of, perhaps you just need to take a break for a while and try something new. Or, pull out something you finished a while ago and dust it off, get back in the creaky saddle and work at it again. You might find some old friends you'd forgotten -- friends that are still waiting for the master's touch.

Brain-Ice

By Nichole Giles

Have you ever had one of those weeks when your brain worked fine, just not in the way you wanted it to? I can think about getting my kids to and fro—and by to and fro I mean all over the city starting at 7:45 a.m. and returning for good at 9:10 p.m.—and I can edit things that are already written, or things other people have written, but try as I might, I have not been able to think of a single topic for a blog.

Usually, I write my blogs days in advance. But lately, I’ve been struggling to pull topics out of the air. I’m starting to wonder if the creative side of my brain is rejecting the horrid, cold Utah weather. The blood in my head seems to slow considerably with the seconds of prolonged exposure, turning into slush as it makes its way through the nooks and crannies, and finally turning into a solid mass of ice when it reaches the final destination.

I thought to write about starting a fresh new year, about second chances and new opportunities, but I didn’t get past the title before the brain-ice closed me down.

I started writing about the insane human need to do more than that of which we are physically capable, but I never even got the first line finished.

I almost wrote about finding humor in the little everyday things. Things we would forget about if we didn’t take notice and write them down. (This going along with the LDS Humor project on which I am currently working.)

I even considered posting a writing prompt or inspirational quote to help my readers and myself get started with our blank pages. But I got distracted, played mother, cook, and taxi, and when I came back, the idea fizzled like a fire with no kindling.

So, I’m very sorry everyone, but I have no topic this week. But I will offer you a word of advice. Even when you struggle to come up with a topic, write anyway. It’s the only sure way to prevent a winter of brain-freeze.

Quote for today:

The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say.
~Anaïs Nin

My Passion

By C. LaRene Hall

For the past few weeks, I’ve been talking with some relatives about the targets I’m aiming to accomplish this year, and it's been interesting to hear their reactions. Some of them couldn’t believe that I had scrap booking as one of those important things to finish. I asked them, “Why do you bother taking pictures if you aren’t going to put them in a scrap book so your children can look at them?”

I still shake my head and wonder why anyone would take the time to snap hundreds of pictures, and go to the expense of developing them, if all they were going to do was leave them in the envelope or put them into a drawer. What a waste.

To me, that is the same as spending time writing a story and then not sharing it with anyone. I’m glad I decided that I would send at least one story a month out to a magazine or book for publication. I know that doesn’t sound like a lot, but I don’t finish many stories in a month because I sometimes do research instead of always writing.

I’m as passionate about scrap booking as I am about writing. One good thing about the pictures is I usually put them away in a book, and the job is complete, but the writing never ends. For sure this year I’m going to send my stories out for others to read. There is no sense writing a story if no one is going to read it.

A Dose of Reality

By C.L. Beck
© 2008

I’m not a big fan of reality shows. Somehow, watching people eat bugs and vote each other off an island never seemed like real life to me. The closest I’ve even been to that was the time a bug flew up my boyfriend’s nose and I voted to take him home so his mom could get it out.

I will admit, though, that occasionally I’ll sit down with my husband, Russ, and watch a game show—and as amazing as it may seem, those programs are now included in the category of reality shows. All I know is that when you’re too tired to think, much less write a blog, there’s nothing like a game show to enliven the winter stupor into which your brain has sunk. If watching someone hop, scream and boogie around the floor while trying to guess the lyrics to a song doesn’t make you feel alive, nothing will wake you from the zombie state into which you’ve obviously slid.

Tonight I watched a woman win $100,000 only to lose 75% of it in another round. The next contestant came in and almost tanked on the first song. He managed to pick himself up off the floor and sing his way through the next two—only to blow it with overconfidence on the third.

That wasn’t the most interesting part, however. Although I felt sorry for those poor folks, who were trying to escape life’s rut by appearing on TV, what got me going was the preview for the upcoming show. The wild-eyed woman of next week bounced up and down and pointed aggressively at the board, her eyes widening into giant orbs. Then she screeched in a voice that would shatter windows, “Lock in those lyrics!” And Russ said, “Brought to you straight from the mental hospital.”

I don’t know, maybe you needed to be there. But, you couldn’t get more real than that—and I just had to write it down.

What books C.L. recommends:
Life is Like Riding a Unicycle by Shirley Bahlmann
Publishing Secrets by LDS Storymakers (BJ Rowley and others)
Writing for Story: Craft Secrets of Dramatic Nonfiction by Jon Franklin
Self-Editing for Fiction Writers by Rennie Browne & Dave King

View C.L.’s other work:
Newspaper Column
Photography Website

One Big Crazy Family

By Keith Fisher

I registered for the LDStorymakers conference the other day. As with everything else the price went up, but that’s not what I want to write about today.

I have a friend who wants to become a writer. She asked me where to start and I gave her a flippant answer I cannot recall, but then I went into detail about rough drafts, conflict, and characters, hooks, cliffhangers, and adverbs. I told her to start writing and read a lot. I told her to go to the writer’s conference.

In my attempt to teach her, my mind drifted over seventeen years, and hundreds of pages in books about writing. Magazine articles, writers clubs, and workshops. I realized I’ve come a long way. It hasn’t been easy, I’ve struggled with English and grammar, problems with plots, and time conflicts. But all in all it has been a good ride.

This will be my third LDStorymakers conference and I’m looking forward to it with all the wide-eyed optimism of a new writer. I can’t wait to see the antics of Tristi Pinkston, rub shoulders with the many talented people, meet new friends, and renew old acquaintances.

When I look at my many manuscripts in different phases of development, I realize I’m a much better writer than I used to be. Most of all, I can see the sweat and blood that I’ve put into them.

My friend, I know there is a chance you will be published on your first submission, but it may take more. Years will pile up, but you will be rewarded.

As I’ve written many times before, start writing and never quit—watch people and note how they do things. Let your imagination soar—it will take you to new ideas and plot twists that you never dreamed possible. Let your characters speak to you, don’t be afraid, because you’re not crazy . . . even if you are, you’re in good company. Go to a writer’s conference and you will see . . . we are all one big happy family of crazy people.

Good luck with your writing, and see you next week.

Writing Helps for Dummies

by G.Parker

I used to be one of those who thought these book were pure gimmick. "Who actually reads those?" I'd ask myself, passing them by for something that looked more promising, but cost more. Let me tell you, those books are written for the average person, and they have great stuff. My hubby is reading one now about a particular computer program.

My point, however, is not those particular books, but the simple fact many of us can't afford to go out and buy writing books, so we are stuck with looking around on the web or borrowing from friends. While borrowing from friends is nice, they usually want the book back and you can't mark up the margins.

With this in mind, I thought it might be helpful to point out some of the sites on the internet that help with writing. There are lots of organizations that are free and give you access to critiques, grammar help, etc. Along with those organizations, there are also many sites out there with generic help (such as spelling, punctuation, etc.). Some of those places are invaluable.

If you've spent any time on the internet as a writer, then these sites will possibly be ones you've already visited. If you're new at the whole thing, then perhaps they will be of benefit.

CostumeGallery.com -- This is a great place if you write historical fiction or non-fiction and need to know how people dressed.

Dictionary.Reference.com -- This site is great if you don't have a dictionary, thesaurus or need other basic grammar helps.

Writefromhome.com -- This is a good resource site for those who want to make a living writing from home.

writemarket.com -- This site has lots of resources for all kinds of writers. It takes a little delving, but it's good.

wordtrip.com -- this is a membership site for writers. They have challenges, contests, suggestions, etc. They're great.

writersdigest.com -- writers digest is a great magazine, and the site has lots to offer the writing enthusiast.

writing.com -- is another membership site. Membership is free, but there are ugrades that give you more options, such as add free membership, etc. I've been a member for several years, and they are great for critiques.

latterdayauthors.com -- there is a forum on this site where the LDS writer can find a home. They're great, and there are many published authors to lend their support and wisdom as well.

advancedfictionwriting.com -- this is kind of different, I didn't find it worked for me, but several people swear by it. You might find it worth your time.

.lifeformz.com -- this site is great if you're feeling in a slump and can't come up with anything to write. They are a tag line generator, and promote madwrites.

junketstudies.com -- this place is great if you're looking for help with writing skills as well as do's and don'ts.

writers.net -- this is a great resource site as well.

These are all sites that I've bookmarked on my computer at one time or another and I've used each one. There are many more out there, all you need to do is search. Don't let lack of knowledge stop your writing or hinder your efforts. If you don't find what you're looking for or need on the internet, libraries are a great source as well. Just keep writing!

Stick With It

By Nichole Giles

Every day, as soon as my kids go to school, I make my way over to the gym. I only spend about an hour there, sometimes less, but unless I have a sick child, an important appointment, or a deadline, I take that hour each morning to prioritize my personal health.

And every January, I prepare myself for an over-crowded parking lot and a short wait time for the most popular resistance and cardio machines. The surge in attendance usually lasts through the end of January but by mid-February simmers down. There are always a last few stragglers who keep their goals going strong all the way through March, but by April those of us who are regulars have the gym back to ourselves with only the occasional pop in from “seasonal members.”

I think it’s wonderful that people will resolve to get in shape, even if they only dedicate a few months out of the year to try. But it makes me sad when those people who come to the gym in January, all eager in their new workout clothes, give up before giving themselves the chance to reach whatever goals they set.

A healthy body, like a healthy mind, requires regular maintenance. And what’s more, we make goals because we hope for something, we expect something of ourselves, and then we set goals when we determine the easiest possible way to get the things we desire.

I use the term “easy” lightly though. Think about it. When ancient Egyptians built the pyramids, their vision was much longer than their lives. And when the pioneers prepared to make a cross-country journey to the Rocky Mountains, they knew they were in for a long haul. When we become parents, it is not only for a few years, nor is it a job we can take temporarily until we decide it’s time to move on to something better, parenting is forever.

Now writers, we know all about goals. We also know about dedication and patience, don’t we? We write because we have to, because we don’t have a choice, and because very often if we don’t take some time out for writing, we get grumpy and grouchy and angry at the world. Well, at least I do. And we have goals, just like everyone else—the ultimate one being publication. Actually, no, I changed my mind. Our reachable goal is publication. Our ultimate goal is being number one on the New York Times bestseller list, fame, fortune, and iconic status. That’s what we really want.

But the Grand Canyon wasn’t carved in a day. Nor was it carved in a year. It took time. Lots, and lots, and lots of time. And if you’ve ever visited there you know that the millions of years of work the Colorado River put forth to carve that amazing place was worth it.

Make your goals worth the effort you put into making them. Whatever you chose to try this year, stick with it.

One more thought. One of the women in Authors Incognito is having her first book release party this weekend. She got the contract for this book after more than 110 rejections, and many, many years of writing and submitting. Now she has an agent, several manuscripts on the market, and the future is happy and bright for her writing career.

Talk about sticking with it!

Out of Control

By C. LaRene Hall

The year has just started and already I feel like I’m racing out of control without a clue as to what I’m doing. I know it’s because I haven’t taken the time to set my goals. Sometimes I struggle because that is what everyone else does. I don’t want to be like anyone else because I enjoy doing my own thing.

This year I’m not calling them goals or resolutions. I don’t want to be ambitious, or aspire to anything big. I know that if I don’t decide to do something with my life, it’ll go down the tube. This year I’m going to aim to do a little each day. Like Robin Hood, I’m aiming for the target. If I do it each day, the things I wish for will come true.

Targets for my writing will include write something every day, and sending a story out every month. I plan to spend two days a week doing research. Without research, I’ll never finish my stories in progress.

I aim to invite my family over to my house more often. Instead of taking them out for their birthday my objective this year is to invite them to my home where we can spend more quality time together.

I finished catching the scrapbooks up the last few weeks, so this year I won’t have to work so hard on them. I think for the other extra chores I need to do throughout the year I’ll make a big bulls-eye and wherever the arrow lands that day that’s what I’ll do. I feel better already because now I know where I’m going.

Committed this Year

By C.L. Beck
© 2008

Every year my author friends make New Year’s goals. Those are good ones, I’ll think as I read their lists. I should make the same resolutions.

But, I don’t. Why? Because I’m committed to making commitments I can keep. So here’s my list of goals for 2008:

I will write at least once this year—preferably by Jan. 1, so that I don’t procrastinate and end up doing it at the end of the year. When nothing shows up on my blank, white paper, I will go into the kitchen and eat that three-week-old, green, Christmas tree sugar cookie I was saving for emergencies.

I will send goal number one out to a publisher by February 30. When that doesn’t happen, I’ll mail half of my Christmas tree sugar cookie to the Salt Lake Tribune.

I will use my spell cheque moor.

I will read the book, Don Quixote, in the original Spanish. When that doesn’t happen, I will try to read the Spanish label on my catsup bottle. When that doesn’t happen, I’ll settle for watching Speedy Gonzales.

I will sharpen all my pencils. When that doesn’t happen, I will gnaw a point onto one pencil while searching for a pen.

I will re-read my list of goals daily. When that doesn’t happen, I will re-read them weekly. When that doesn’t happen, I'll use my computer mouse to bang holes in the list.

So, there you have it—goals that I’m certain I can accomplish. And I don’t know what goals you have in mind for this year, but if you’re having trouble coming up with a list, I’ll be glad to help—as soon as I gnaw a point onto my pencil.


What books C.L. recommends:
Life is Like Riding a Unicycle by Shirley Bahlmann
Publishing Secrets by LDS Storymakers (BJ Rowley and others)
Writing for Story: Craft Secrets of Dramatic Nonfiction by Jon Franklin
Self-Editing for Fiction Writers by Rennie Browne & Dave King

View C.L.’s other work:
Newspaper Column
Photography Website

Another New Year/The Case of the Missing Hats

By Keith Fisher

I remember when I was kid, seeing discarded, fancy party hats and noisemakers at Grandma’s house on New Year’s Day. Us kids were allowed to play with them and it was fun, but I wondered what I was missing. What was the source of the noisemakers and joyful toys? I wanted to stay up late on New Year’s Eve and watch the reverie, just to be in on the goings on, but I wasn’t allowed.

"When you get older," Mom would always say, and I was left to my wild imagination about the rituals participated in, on that night of all nights. I don’t remember when I was finally allowed to stay up, but I do remember being disappointed. I wondered why I had cared so much. There were no party hats, noisemakers, or joyful toys. I think we played Monopoly and Grandpa won (as he always did on Sunday afternoons).

When I drifted away from the beliefs of my parents and began to experience another, non-LDS life I found a forum for the celebration, but I never saw any party hats. When I went on my mission, I still kept the ritual of sleeplessness (but with a somewhat more sedate form of entertainment). I remember my companion sticking his head out the window on a snowy night in Gander, NewFoundland, and shouting "Happy New Year" at the top of his lungs. All in all a very daring thing to do, but still no party hats.

When I got married and it was just the two of us, we wondered what the point was, and started watching Dick Clark in New York but still no party hats. Now that I’m older and sedate is a state of being, I wonder what all the shouting was about. A few years ago, my daughter was determined to stay up until midnight. She was fine until about ten, when she began to drift off. Through a series of pokes, jabs, and wrestling matches, we managed to keep her awake, but when it was finally time to sleep, she couldn't. She was too keyed up from wrestling. It was fun, but I think she wondered where the party hats were.

So now that I’m old—I don’t drink, I don’t have any fireworks to light off, and I normally stay up all night anyway, (I work the graveyard shift). I’m left to wonder two things: What is the point? And what was the ritualistic purpose of those party hats?

Good luck in your writing and remember it’s just a change of date on the calendar.

The Loss of Anonymity

You may have noticed the comments feature of our blog has the anti anonymous function turned on. When I discovered this, I was saddened. First, because some of us don’t have time to log into blogger before leaving comments and therefore we like to leave comments anonymously but sign our name at the bottom. It has been turned off because of a few foul-minded individuals who cannot control themselves.

Which brings me to the second reason for my sadness. There are those who feel the need to leave foul and abusive comments on our blog. Those MORONS who have nothing better to do with their time than to read a blog about the process of writing LDS fiction, then leave their disgusting mark on it like a male dog establishing new territory deserve our pity but not our attention.

So to those who would comment, but either don’t have a blogger account, or don’t have time to log in first, let me say, we at LDSWritersblogck wish to say we’re sorry. We want to thank you for reading and for your sage comments.

Resolutions? Bah, Humbug!

by G.Parker


There are many words tossed out this time of year, New Year's resolutions being some of them. Personally, I hate the word resolution. It causes nothing but anxiety, trepidation and chaos in my world. I about break out in hives just thinking about it.

I prefer the word goal. I also prefer to set goals throughout the year, not just in January. It took me a long time to see the merit and principles involved in making goals. As I've grown older, I've come to realize they help me achieve the things I want to do.

There was a long period in my life that I didn't accomplish very much because I let events dictate my actions, not the other way around.

Goals can be very handy, especially when you are a writer. Believe it or not, some writers have a hard time putting words to paper. They want to write, they have stories pounding in their brains, but they are paralyzed by 'what if's'. What if it isn't any good? What if no one reads it? What if no publisher will print it?

The problem is, no one will read it and nothing will come of it if you don't write. Making goals, therefore, help push those words out and get the work going.

My goals are fairly simple this year. Timing at the end of 2007 has caused my goalmaking to coincide with the beginning of the new year -- much to my chargin. I would postpone the whole thing since I wasn't organized during December to do it then, but the only one that would effect would be me. As a result, I gave in and wrote down what I wanted to do for the next 12 months.

What kind of goal is most helpful? That depends on what you are trying to accomplish. For instance; instead of a word count goal this year, I'm setting one of a time frame. I will spend two hours a day on my writing. This helps because I will be focusing alot on editing.

The best way to determine if your goals are or have worked, is the end result. Did you accomplish what you set out to? What could you do differently to be more effective?

We'll see where things sit at the end of 2008. I hope to have accomplished quite a bit. I'll let you know.

Call for Submissions

By Nichole Giles

I am starting the new year with a bang. My good friend and fellow blogger, C.L. Beck and I have embarked upon an exciting new project and we’d love to invite all our readers to participate. So, in place of my weekly blog, I’m going to post an invitation to submit your humorous stories for possible publication in a book. Now’s your chance, so don’t pass up a great opportunity to gain a published credit. Good luck!

Share Some Humor
(Published and unpublished authors alike are invited to submit!)

Nichole Giles and Cindy (C.L.) Beck are actively seeking humorous, true, anecdotal stories of Latter-Day Saint goofs and gaffs at church, for a book that is being considered for publication by Covenant.

Whether your story takes place in Sacrament meeting, Relief Society, Priesthood, Young Men and Women, Primary, at a ward party, or at any ol' Mormon meeting (and face it, we have plenty of meetings from which to garner bloopers), we welcome them all.

We seek unpublished, narrative, nonfictional anecdotes that read like fiction. Stories must be humorous, original, in English, typed, titled, and up to 170 words. You don't need to be a published author to submit, but if you are, we welcome your submissions as well.

There are no entry fees ... but then again, there aren't any prizes, either! Well, except for the prize of the opportunity to spread a little laughter, and a chance to get your name and website listed in a book that is being considered for publication by Covenant. Ooo, that means a possible publishing credit for you, too.

Selections for the book will be made by committee. Because of that, it won't do any good to call Cindy or Nichole—or to bang on their doors—begging them to accept one more story. (Although we have heard whispers that some on the committee might consider a chocolate bribe.)


Guidelines

Submissions must be true, humorous anecdotes that have taken place at an LDS church or at an LDS church-related function. Stories must be UNPUBLISHED. Stories that have been previously published in books, magazines, e-zines, websites, blogs or other forms of publication will NOT be considered.

They must be double-spaced, titled, in English, with a word count up to 170.

They may not contain the names of the individuals involved (we don't want to get sued because Sister BlubberPuss and Brother ToeJams saw their name in print), and can not give ward or stake names.

Email submissions to ldshumor at yahoo dot com. No attachments—please copy and paste your submission into the body of the email.

One submission per email, but feel free to submit as many stories as you like. In fact, we encourage this! Include your full name, mailing address, email address, and phone number.

DEADLINE: February 15, 2008

You can also view the guidelines, along with two sample stories at www.nicholegiles.com/submissions.html
www.bythebecks.com/submissions.html

A New Beginning

By C. LaRene Hall

“Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end; then stop.” – Lewis Carroll

I love that quote. It’s what I plan on doing with this new year. Actually, I’ve been pondering what I know about New Year’s day. I don’t want to write about the usual things you would expect such as goals and resolutions. Instead, I want to think about the beginning of celebrations, and traditions.

January 1st is the oldest of all holidays. In ancient Babylon almost 4,000 years ago, they celebrated the first day of spring. It was the perfect time to start a new year with the rebirth and blossoming of plants. Their New Year resolution was probably to return borrowed garden equipment instead of losing weight.

As I searched to see how different cities and countries celebrated this holiday, I wasn’t surprised to see that the most popular celebrations consisted of parades and fireworks. I love watching parades and fireworks so I would be at home wherever I traveled.

Years ago, people thought that one could affect the luck they would have throughout the coming year by what they did on the first day of the year. That’s the reason why people celebrate the first few minutes of a brand new year in the company of family and friends.

Another thing that brings good luck is food. Many cultures believe that if it’s in the shape of a ring it will bring good luck, because it symbolizes "coming full circle" which completes a year's cycle.

Many years ago, the new year started with a custom called ‘first footing’, which was suppose to bring good luck to people for the coming year. As soon as midnight had passed, people waited behind their doors for a dark-haired person to arrive. My husband tells that when he was young, on New Years Eve right after the clock chimed twelve, his father who had dark hair would go out the back door and come in the front door.

My husband doesn’t remember any more details, but the custom further states that the visitor carried a piece of coal, bread, money and greenery for good luck The coal was so the house would always be warm, the bread to make sure everyone had enough food to eat, money so they would have enough money, and the greenery so they had a long life. The visitor would then take a pan of dust or ashes out of the house with him, thus signifying the departure of the old year.

In almost every English-speaking country is a tradition to bring the New Year in at the stroke of midnight singing, "Auld Lang Syne". Some of the symbols of the New Year are Father Time and the New Year Baby.

Unlike us, February 7, 2008 is the first day of the Chinese New Year. This coming year is the year of the rat or formally the year of Wu Zhi. I wonder what this means for all of us. I hate rats.

Anyway, my wish for all of you is to have a wonderful New Year.

Book-in-a-Month Club

By Darvell Hunt

I'm going to write a book in a month--for the second time.

I am accepting Tristi Pinkston's challenge to write a book in the month of January. Here's her challenge:

Tristi Pinkston's Book in a Month Challenge.

I've already completed a novel in a month a few years ago for the National Novel Wring Month challenge, so this should my my second novel in a month. If you're interested in participating, come join the club at the above link.