A friend of mine sent me Roseanne Cash's latest CD, The List. I've probably listened to it two hundred times now. I'm growing a little weary of the first song, but every other song still grabs me. They're all remakes of old songs and from a wide variety of artists so the styles are not similar. Roseanne made these songs hers, gave them her own voice and did a fantastic job.
It's probably one of the very few albums I like every song. Most times, I buy a cd for a few songs and tolerate the others. Sometimes I eventually grow to like the other songs, but usually I just skip through them.
I think this is why iTune is so great. I can buy only the songs I truly love without having to listen to, or skip through, a bunch of stuff I don't like.
Wild Mountain Thyme by The Silencers is a prime example. I’m not sure I would like the rest of their music enough to buy the CD. So far I’ve only found one song I really like and I don’t think I would pay $15 for one song even though I’ve done that in the past.
What if a book is like that? The first chapter has been workshopped and polished to death, but the appeal of the writing and story drops off dramatically after that. Readers aren’t going to be satisfied with one good chapter and just keep reading it. You have to pull them right on into the next chapter and every one after that. Your chapter can’t be a one-hit wonder.
As most of you know, I am doing the final revision on Far Rider before it goes to my last batch of beta readers. I'm a lot happier with this version even though I'm over word count again. 141,625 words, to be exact and that’s after cutting some already. I'm working on it! The story is still complex, but it's also more focused. The MC is a stronger, more compelling character. Erokath, the demon, is a force to be reckoned with. Even the minor characters are more vivid, and building memorable characters is one of my strengths.
Now that I'm going back through the chapters again, I've been thinking about The List. This is what I want Far Rider to be. Every chapter should be so pleasing that a reader would buy it as a stand alone. Now I realize that's not how books sell today, though they used to come out in installments, but that's the approach I'm taking.
I look at one chapter and I fall in love with it. The characters are alive and vibrant. The action and dialogue are spot on. It sparkles and I highlight it in bright yellow. It's a chapter I would buy on iChapters.
Other chapters are close, but not quite there. They need to be fine-tuned and taken to the next level.
Then there are the chapters that are just hanging around. I need them because they are part of the support structure for the story, but they're more like a sweet little mouse than the prowling lion I was looking for.
The temptation, especially after you've worked on a story a long time, is to think it's good enough. I think the secret of success, however, is to look at each one and honestly assess if it's strong enough to become an iChapter or even an iParagraph. Will someone pick this chapter out of all the other chapters out there and say, "Yes, I want this enough to buy it."
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Veteran's Day
Today is Veteran’s Day. Many of us have family members in the service. We are sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers of soldiers. Regardless of how we feel about this war, or any war, we cannot disregard the sacrifices they have made.
Today’s army is all volunteer. They make a choice to serve knowing there is a war and they will undoubtedly be called to serve. No one is drafted, no one has to run to Canada or England to avoid serving. All of these men and women made a choice that could dramatically affect, or end, their lives.
So today, if you get a chance, thank a service man or woman.
When you hold your babies tonight, think of those mothers and fathers out there who long to hold theirs.
Instead, they might hold someone else’s wounded babies.
When you complain because the air conditioning isn’t working properly in your office, think of them.
When you come home at night and kiss your spouse, think of them.
When you complain because your sheets are wrinkled or your mattress has a lump, think of them.
When the line at the grocery store irritates you because you have to wait so long, it could be worse.
When you are exasperated because you have to dust again and you just dusted three days ago, think of them.
When the commute home is grinding on your nerves, someone else’s commute is much worse,
My son and his unit are home safe. The replacement unit lost a soldier on their first convoy. Death in Iraq and Afghanistan is just a breath away and yet we still have people volunteering to serve. The Iraqi who goes out in the street to protest has that right today because someone paid a very dear price yesterday.
The world, and even some of our leaders, may denounce the American attitude, but there was a time when they were happy to accept the American blood shed on their behalf. They rejoiced to see the gutsy Americans rolling across their countryside.
Freedom is not free. The price paid is terrible and heartbreaking.
For those who were and are willing to stand up and serve, I give you my heartfelt thanks and my eternal admiration.
Today’s army is all volunteer. They make a choice to serve knowing there is a war and they will undoubtedly be called to serve. No one is drafted, no one has to run to Canada or England to avoid serving. All of these men and women made a choice that could dramatically affect, or end, their lives.
So today, if you get a chance, thank a service man or woman.
When you hold your babies tonight, think of those mothers and fathers out there who long to hold theirs.
Instead, they might hold someone else’s wounded babies.
When you complain because the air conditioning isn’t working properly in your office, think of them.
When you come home at night and kiss your spouse, think of them.
When you complain because your sheets are wrinkled or your mattress has a lump, think of them.
When the line at the grocery store irritates you because you have to wait so long, it could be worse.
When you are exasperated because you have to dust again and you just dusted three days ago, think of them.
When the commute home is grinding on your nerves, someone else’s commute is much worse,
When your activities are inconvenienced because of the rain, think of them.
My son and his unit are home safe. The replacement unit lost a soldier on their first convoy. Death in Iraq and Afghanistan is just a breath away and yet we still have people volunteering to serve. The Iraqi who goes out in the street to protest has that right today because someone paid a very dear price yesterday.
The world, and even some of our leaders, may denounce the American attitude, but there was a time when they were happy to accept the American blood shed on their behalf. They rejoiced to see the gutsy Americans rolling across their countryside.
Freedom is not free. The price paid is terrible and heartbreaking.
For those who were and are willing to stand up and serve, I give you my heartfelt thanks and my eternal admiration.
Thank you, sweetheart. Mother loves you.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Birthday Party!
I’ve put off writing this post, not because I am ungrateful, but because every time I think about it, I cry. Plus, I keep hearing you shouldn’t get personal on blogs that publishing professionals might read. Well, to those of you who know me, you know I delve into my personal life from time-to-time and I post rants I shouldn’t. I suppose, when the time comes, I just need to hope I find an agent and publishing house who accept me for who I am.
Saturday at RMFW was September 12. We had planned Tara’s surprise baby shower for that night. It was also my birthday. Behind the scenes, there was some drama unfolding in another state that could easily turn deadly or at the very least result in police calls. I was having a hard time concentrating and spent a lot of time on the phone checking the status of the situation.
Beth caught me alone and asked if I could get Tara out of the lobby at a certain time so Julie F. could get the balloons through the lobby without her seeing them. Sure, I could do that.
We were all sitting in the lobby later and I asked Tara if she had any fingernail clippers as I had forgotten mine. Why on earth I thought that would be a good ploy to get Tara out of the lobby, I have no idea.
Beth offered me hers.
NO! I need to go to Tara’s room so Tara can take me up there and I can get Tara out of the lobby.
“Thanks, but it’s my toenail and I don’t want to take my boot off in the lobby.”
Tara had some so we went to her room. While we were there, she decided to iron a blouse. It looked painful to me, so I offered to do it for her.
I’m so clever. I lured Tara away from the lobby and she was none the wiser.
We returned to the lobby later and there were two tables set up in the bar with huge balloon bouquets with candy scattered everywhere like a Hansel and Gretel baited trap. I was tickled to pieces for Tara’s surprise. I was away from the bar in another part of the lobby and Lisa told me to look closer. There was a big birthday balloon bouquet.
I suppose I should have suspected something, but for the most part, my birthdays mostly go unnoticed.
The year my dad had his stroke, I was alone in Montana and going to the VA hospital daily as we didn’t know if he was going to make it from one day to the next. The night before my birthday, I baked up dozens and dozens of sugar free banana muffins to give to the staff and patients at The Fort as the hospital in Helena is called. I had already asked the staff and they said it was fine. So, I waited until they took Dad for more testing and made the rounds handing out banana muffins to everyone.
Don sent me flowers that year. He was usually too busy to do much more than call, wish me a happy birthday and promise we would go out soon to eat. He never quite found the time and I invariably told him to forget it when he kept putting it off.
Will always remembered my birthday. His last birthday card was a Pirates of the Caribbean one that played the theme song. I played it so much I wore out the battery.
So, I really didn’t expect anything aside from maybe someone wishing me happy birthday. When Lisa pointed out the birthday bouquet, I started bawling like a baby. I’m crying again as I write this.
I was so embarrassed I turned my back and refused to go over there, but she dragged me back like a future show calf with his first halter. I’m sure there are still skid marks in the carpet.
That’s when I learned Janet Reid had been a prime instigator in the surprise birthday party. The Gnomies had secret posts going back and forth about the birthday party with Miss Janet sans me. We had secret posts going back and forth about the surprise baby shower sans Tara. Then we had the myriad emails with contact info, hotel info, restaurant arrangements, cupcake bash, class schedules, attire, altitude sickness, retreat plans and numerous other things going back and forth about RMFW sans the Gnomies who weren’t going. Plus, there were the regular writing emails circulating. How everyone kept all the lists straight without accidentally sending the wrong email to the wrong person and spilling the beans I have no idea.
I divided the night between crying and giggling. It was absolutely one of the best nights of my life. I love my writing friends because they not only accept me for who I am, but they are also a very talented and supportive group of writers. If not for them, I’m sure I would have given up years ago. My writing circle has expanded to include the marvelous agents Janet Reid and Rachelle Gardner.
Regardless of where life takes us, this is one very special time in my life I’m sure I will remember forever. The greatest gift of all is to love and be loved and to all of you who have shown me that love, I give you a very special thanks…and more tears.
Saturday at RMFW was September 12. We had planned Tara’s surprise baby shower for that night. It was also my birthday. Behind the scenes, there was some drama unfolding in another state that could easily turn deadly or at the very least result in police calls. I was having a hard time concentrating and spent a lot of time on the phone checking the status of the situation.
Beth caught me alone and asked if I could get Tara out of the lobby at a certain time so Julie F. could get the balloons through the lobby without her seeing them. Sure, I could do that.
We were all sitting in the lobby later and I asked Tara if she had any fingernail clippers as I had forgotten mine. Why on earth I thought that would be a good ploy to get Tara out of the lobby, I have no idea.
Beth offered me hers.
NO! I need to go to Tara’s room so Tara can take me up there and I can get Tara out of the lobby.
“Thanks, but it’s my toenail and I don’t want to take my boot off in the lobby.”
Tara had some so we went to her room. While we were there, she decided to iron a blouse. It looked painful to me, so I offered to do it for her.
I’m so clever. I lured Tara away from the lobby and she was none the wiser.
We returned to the lobby later and there were two tables set up in the bar with huge balloon bouquets with candy scattered everywhere like a Hansel and Gretel baited trap. I was tickled to pieces for Tara’s surprise. I was away from the bar in another part of the lobby and Lisa told me to look closer. There was a big birthday balloon bouquet.
I suppose I should have suspected something, but for the most part, my birthdays mostly go unnoticed.
The year my dad had his stroke, I was alone in Montana and going to the VA hospital daily as we didn’t know if he was going to make it from one day to the next. The night before my birthday, I baked up dozens and dozens of sugar free banana muffins to give to the staff and patients at The Fort as the hospital in Helena is called. I had already asked the staff and they said it was fine. So, I waited until they took Dad for more testing and made the rounds handing out banana muffins to everyone.
Don sent me flowers that year. He was usually too busy to do much more than call, wish me a happy birthday and promise we would go out soon to eat. He never quite found the time and I invariably told him to forget it when he kept putting it off.
Will always remembered my birthday. His last birthday card was a Pirates of the Caribbean one that played the theme song. I played it so much I wore out the battery.
So, I really didn’t expect anything aside from maybe someone wishing me happy birthday. When Lisa pointed out the birthday bouquet, I started bawling like a baby. I’m crying again as I write this.
I was so embarrassed I turned my back and refused to go over there, but she dragged me back like a future show calf with his first halter. I’m sure there are still skid marks in the carpet.
That’s when I learned Janet Reid had been a prime instigator in the surprise birthday party. The Gnomies had secret posts going back and forth about the birthday party with Miss Janet sans me. We had secret posts going back and forth about the surprise baby shower sans Tara. Then we had the myriad emails with contact info, hotel info, restaurant arrangements, cupcake bash, class schedules, attire, altitude sickness, retreat plans and numerous other things going back and forth about RMFW sans the Gnomies who weren’t going. Plus, there were the regular writing emails circulating. How everyone kept all the lists straight without accidentally sending the wrong email to the wrong person and spilling the beans I have no idea.
I divided the night between crying and giggling. It was absolutely one of the best nights of my life. I love my writing friends because they not only accept me for who I am, but they are also a very talented and supportive group of writers. If not for them, I’m sure I would have given up years ago. My writing circle has expanded to include the marvelous agents Janet Reid and Rachelle Gardner.
Regardless of where life takes us, this is one very special time in my life I’m sure I will remember forever. The greatest gift of all is to love and be loved and to all of you who have shown me that love, I give you a very special thanks…and more tears.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Saturday at Denver RMFW
Here is the Saturday schedule.
SATURDAY
8:30 — 9:20
Novel Writing 101
Editor Panel Designing a Fictional Town
Since I didn’t go to the second half of query letter, I decided to go to this one. Carol Berg was on the panel and I admire her writing.
I would offer up a detailed report of this, but it was basically to find some place that exists and make it yours. For instance, in one of Carol’s works, she used Germany and just turned it upside down, placing the mountain ranges, wine country and flat farming country on opposite ends. She did have some good handouts on a medieval monastery.
Another woman used a Colorado town and renamed it. For some reason, she was advised she couldn’t use the name of the town. She used the same streets, shops and landmarks and just changed names. I can understand if something horrible happens in a nice hotel, that hotel might not want people thinking it was really built on a graveyard and the maids are all zombies, but changing even the name of the town baffled me.
Query Letters: Part Two (participation in Part One required) Begins 8:00
I toyed with my query letter a bit, but I couldn’t wrap my head around the suggestions Jenny made for revisions and the point Kristin Nelson made about focusing on the turning point. I should have just gone with what I had and let them critique it anyway, but I didn’t. That was another classic instance of jumping the wrong way. Just like I did last year at Surrey with Janet Reid’s query letter workshop. Are you noticing a pattern here? I think I have queryphobia.
Behind the Badge
9:30 — 10:20
What I Wish I Knew When I was Starting Out
Website Design & Marketing
Kari Lynn Dell went to this and said it was pretty good.
Music to my Ears: Writing Effective Dialogue
I went to this class, but it was standing room only and my knees were still giving me a lot of problems. I stood in the back of the room for a bit and gave up. However, the room was lovely and I feasted on a few more of Kari’s wonderful huckleberry cookies. It seriously felt good to lie down in the dark for a while. I didn’t feel well all the time I was in Denver. Someone suggested altitude sickness and it may have been since I felt fine when I left Texas.
Writing in Deep Third Person POV (Bring three random third person POV paragraphs)
I was going to go to this, but I left the samples at home and didn’t feel like fighting the line in the business center of the hotel to print them out.
10:30 — 11:20
Do You Have an Agent? 10 Things to Know When Going Commando
Isn’t this amazing? Janet Reid did a workshop on what to do if you don’t want to or can’t get an agent. I thought that was a brilliant idea.
Critique Groups: Are they for You?
I didn’t attend this as I firmly believe they are and I have a great crit group.
11:30 — 1:00 LUNCH — Sign up available if you have no lunch partner and what to get to know fellow conference attendees
1 :00 — 1:50 Tick, Tock, Kill: The Psychology of the Criminal Mind
I went to this workshop by Margie Lawson. I can only say if you ever get a chance to take a workshop with her, jump on it. She also has online classes and lesson packets you can order. I plan on going through all of her lessons. She is an excellent teacher.
Unfortunately, I think my handout packet got mixed up with someone else’s material at Evergreen. I had a lot of my notes stuffed in that and it’s missing. If I can find someone else who took the class and took notes, I will link to their site.
Tackling Hollywood
Brain Sex
This sounded like an interesting workshop, but I don’t write enough sex scenes to warrant it.
Publicity, Promotion, and Media Relations
First Sale Panel
2:00 — 2:50
Author Boot Camp
Tarot: a Tool for Character/Conflict Generation
Getting to "The End": Techniques for Finishing
Focus on Short Fiction
3:00 — 3:50
Point of View
I went to this and it was helpful, but I felt I pretty much had this nailed.
CSI
It's Not Just Sex
Two Fisted Heroes
4:00 — 4:50
Rejection! When They Say Your Baby is Ugly!
PAL Meeting
Words, Words, Words
I went to this one and it was standing room only again so I repaired to the bar.
5:30/6:00 Cash Bar opens 5:30. Banquet at 6:00
AWARDS BANQUET
Keynote Speaker: Joseph Finder
Joe Finder did a good speech. He’s an excellent writer. I think it left a lot of us thinking of Cinderella and realizing we were the ugly stepsisters.
Saturday was kind of a bust for me conference wise because I missed some classes I really wanted to take, plus I was feeling yuck.
The best part of Saturday was knowing we were having a baby shower for Tara that night and I was really excited to be able to participate in this for her.
Saturday was also my birthday. I didn’t plan anything special as the conference was sort of a gift to myself.
SATURDAY
8:30 — 9:20
Novel Writing 101
Editor Panel Designing a Fictional Town
Since I didn’t go to the second half of query letter, I decided to go to this one. Carol Berg was on the panel and I admire her writing.
I would offer up a detailed report of this, but it was basically to find some place that exists and make it yours. For instance, in one of Carol’s works, she used Germany and just turned it upside down, placing the mountain ranges, wine country and flat farming country on opposite ends. She did have some good handouts on a medieval monastery.
Another woman used a Colorado town and renamed it. For some reason, she was advised she couldn’t use the name of the town. She used the same streets, shops and landmarks and just changed names. I can understand if something horrible happens in a nice hotel, that hotel might not want people thinking it was really built on a graveyard and the maids are all zombies, but changing even the name of the town baffled me.
Query Letters: Part Two (participation in Part One required) Begins 8:00
I toyed with my query letter a bit, but I couldn’t wrap my head around the suggestions Jenny made for revisions and the point Kristin Nelson made about focusing on the turning point. I should have just gone with what I had and let them critique it anyway, but I didn’t. That was another classic instance of jumping the wrong way. Just like I did last year at Surrey with Janet Reid’s query letter workshop. Are you noticing a pattern here? I think I have queryphobia.
Behind the Badge
9:30 — 10:20
What I Wish I Knew When I was Starting Out
Website Design & Marketing
Kari Lynn Dell went to this and said it was pretty good.
Music to my Ears: Writing Effective Dialogue
I went to this class, but it was standing room only and my knees were still giving me a lot of problems. I stood in the back of the room for a bit and gave up. However, the room was lovely and I feasted on a few more of Kari’s wonderful huckleberry cookies. It seriously felt good to lie down in the dark for a while. I didn’t feel well all the time I was in Denver. Someone suggested altitude sickness and it may have been since I felt fine when I left Texas.
Writing in Deep Third Person POV (Bring three random third person POV paragraphs)
I was going to go to this, but I left the samples at home and didn’t feel like fighting the line in the business center of the hotel to print them out.
10:30 — 11:20
Do You Have an Agent? 10 Things to Know When Going Commando
Isn’t this amazing? Janet Reid did a workshop on what to do if you don’t want to or can’t get an agent. I thought that was a brilliant idea.
Critique Groups: Are they for You?
I didn’t attend this as I firmly believe they are and I have a great crit group.
11:30 — 1:00 LUNCH — Sign up available if you have no lunch partner and what to get to know fellow conference attendees
1 :00 — 1:50 Tick, Tock, Kill: The Psychology of the Criminal Mind
I went to this workshop by Margie Lawson. I can only say if you ever get a chance to take a workshop with her, jump on it. She also has online classes and lesson packets you can order. I plan on going through all of her lessons. She is an excellent teacher.
Unfortunately, I think my handout packet got mixed up with someone else’s material at Evergreen. I had a lot of my notes stuffed in that and it’s missing. If I can find someone else who took the class and took notes, I will link to their site.
Tackling Hollywood
Brain Sex
This sounded like an interesting workshop, but I don’t write enough sex scenes to warrant it.
Publicity, Promotion, and Media Relations
First Sale Panel
2:00 — 2:50
Author Boot Camp
Tarot: a Tool for Character/Conflict Generation
Getting to "The End": Techniques for Finishing
Focus on Short Fiction
3:00 — 3:50
Point of View
I went to this and it was helpful, but I felt I pretty much had this nailed.
CSI
It's Not Just Sex
Two Fisted Heroes
4:00 — 4:50
Rejection! When They Say Your Baby is Ugly!
PAL Meeting
Words, Words, Words
I went to this one and it was standing room only again so I repaired to the bar.
5:30/6:00 Cash Bar opens 5:30. Banquet at 6:00
AWARDS BANQUET
Keynote Speaker: Joseph Finder
Joe Finder did a good speech. He’s an excellent writer. I think it left a lot of us thinking of Cinderella and realizing we were the ugly stepsisters.
Saturday was kind of a bust for me conference wise because I missed some classes I really wanted to take, plus I was feeling yuck.
The best part of Saturday was knowing we were having a baby shower for Tara that night and I was really excited to be able to participate in this for her.
Saturday was also my birthday. I didn’t plan anything special as the conference was sort of a gift to myself.
Friday, October 23, 2009
RMFW Friday Night Lights--Coors Preferably
Friday night at RMFW was another good night. I, in all my splendor, didn’t even bother to put on make up that day and my curls were woefully lacking.
I’m telling y’all, cupcakes are the secret to a successful conference. Now, granted we had a large group of Gnomies. Julie B was busy putting bling on everyone who stood still long enough. Most of us who had critique shops that day compared notes and discussed things the critiquers brought up.
I learned a few very important things. A lot happens to Gentyl, but that’s the problem, it happens to her. She’s only fifteen, but she has to be more in charge of her destiny. She can’t help being kidnapped and tortured, but she doesn’t have to give up. Well, she does for a while, but that’s part of the journey back through hell.
Jenny and I discussed my query. I thought I had that fairly nailed, but it still needs work. I tried to wrap my brain around her suggestions, but it’s going to take some simmering.
The amazing thing about this conference was we talked a lot about writing, but we also just visited and I hope we made others feel welcome.
Jenny Rappaport spent some time with us just shooting the bull. It was interesting to listen to professionals discussing publishing. She’s a sweetheart if you ever get a chance to attend a conference with her. There were a few funny stories passed around. There were a lot of general discussions about writing. The general discussions drifted off into specifics; like Jenny and I talking about the query. In some ways, it evolved into mini workshops.
Jim Born, Joe Finder, Jenny, Janet, Margie Lawson and several others stopped by. I think, and dearly hope, they felt welcomed as friends and not fresh meat for the beast.
I think both at Surrey and RMFW, the opportunity to unwind at the end of the day was important. We still talked writing, but it could just as easily swing off into another rabbit trail about research or history or what have you. It was never boring.
Carrie, another Gnomie, didn’t come to RMFW because she went to a historical conference instead. She didn’t feel like she came away with much of a desire to write. I’m not sure what the difference is. I think part of it is just being with friends so you can unwind at the end of the day. Of course, with cupcakes, it was easy to make new friends.
In addition to the cupcakes, Kari brought sugar cookies with homemade huckleberry jam filling. Yum. To die for. The best part, we kept them in our room so we could wake up to cookies for breakfast appetizers. I brought Texas Trash, the white chocolate kind. Jen, I think brought mini cheesecakes. Someone else brought some yummy coconut bars. Our tables were overflowing with goodies.
And, in case you missed the luscious cupcakes, here is the bakery again.
Now for the surprise. Beth, the consummate professional, had reminded everyone to be sure and pay Kari for their part of the cupcake bill. I had already paid her, but a certain Janet Reid insisted on buying the cupcakes because they were her idea. They really weren’t, though cupcakes are never far from her mind, but it was a very sweet gesture. So many people enjoyed her treat and her hospitality. I was surprised at how easily she combined relaxing with meeting with clients and prospective clients. From her demeanor, you couldn’t tell the difference between old friends chatting over old times and her ripping the guts out of a manuscript. I guess that’s the true art of a good agent.
Case in point. Janet had read Kari’s latest manuscript and wanted to talk to her about it in Denver. Janet had some valuable advice, but she couched it in an either or manner. What they discussed is between them, but I was terribly impressed with the way it was presented. I’ve heard horror stories of agents who have an author re-write and re-write and re-write until the story bears no resemblance to the original one and then the agent isn’t interested and the author has just spent three years demolishing their concept.
I think Janet is a top notch agent. She knows her business. She knows what sells. She knows what she wants and if she believes in you, she’s in it for the long haul. That’s pretty tough to beat in a dog-eat-dog world like publishing.
Why, yes, I am a Janet Reid fan. Not because she might represent me, but because I respect her integrity. She’ll tell you flat out if something isn’t going to work.
I used to interview some trainers who were like that. They’d try a colt for an owner. If the baby just didn’t have what it was going to take, they’d tell the owner they can keep trying him or her and see if something clicks or maybe just let the horse go home and grow up. Some babies need to mature mentally before they can handle racing. Sometimes they told the owner to keep it for a saddle horse or sell it, but don’t waste any more money trying to run it. Of course, sometimes they guess completely wrong and the dud went on to be a champion. The point is, they didn’t lie to the owner and guarantee them they had a winner. They honestly assessed the potential for success.
Honesty is a valuable commodity to me.
Kari and I did some brainstorming in the dark. Mainly I just listened while Kari thought out loud and by the time we went to sleep, the germs for the new direction were already sprouting.
That is one of the greatest secrets of horse training. Instill in the horse a love of doing something and it never becomes a chore. So it goes with the writer, strike that spark and fan the flame so the joy of writing shows through on the page. Janet didn’t browbeat her in a certain direction. She said you need to do this or do that to make it stronger. Kari was the writer and it was her choice.
Having chances to sit down and visit with the agents in a non-threatening environment gives the writers a chance to get a feel for the agent’s personality. They can see if the match “feels” right. Even if you don’t get a chance to sit down and chat with the agent, you can tell a lot about them just the way they move.
Kristin Nelson? A ball of energy. I can’t even imagine her slowing down enough to sleep. I think she’s one of the sharpest, most professional agents going. She knows her business and I get the impression if she believed in a project, she’d be a mama bulldog to see it through. I have no idea why I think she would be so tough, because she always had a smile on her face and a ready laugh.
Therein lies another advantage to the conferences. People watching. You love the way Agent X sounds on paper, but after listening to them on the panel and seeing them whizzing around the conference, is this someone you want to be a partner with a long time? Maybe you’ve decided Agent Y moves up on the list after visiting with him or her.
I don’t think anything replaces personal contact when making important business decisions like this. If you can afford to go to a conference, especially if some of your favorite agents are there, find a way to do it.
They might share their cupcakes with you.
I’m telling y’all, cupcakes are the secret to a successful conference. Now, granted we had a large group of Gnomies. Julie B was busy putting bling on everyone who stood still long enough. Most of us who had critique shops that day compared notes and discussed things the critiquers brought up.
I learned a few very important things. A lot happens to Gentyl, but that’s the problem, it happens to her. She’s only fifteen, but she has to be more in charge of her destiny. She can’t help being kidnapped and tortured, but she doesn’t have to give up. Well, she does for a while, but that’s part of the journey back through hell.
Jenny and I discussed my query. I thought I had that fairly nailed, but it still needs work. I tried to wrap my brain around her suggestions, but it’s going to take some simmering.
The amazing thing about this conference was we talked a lot about writing, but we also just visited and I hope we made others feel welcome.
Jenny Rappaport spent some time with us just shooting the bull. It was interesting to listen to professionals discussing publishing. She’s a sweetheart if you ever get a chance to attend a conference with her. There were a few funny stories passed around. There were a lot of general discussions about writing. The general discussions drifted off into specifics; like Jenny and I talking about the query. In some ways, it evolved into mini workshops.
Jim Born, Joe Finder, Jenny, Janet, Margie Lawson and several others stopped by. I think, and dearly hope, they felt welcomed as friends and not fresh meat for the beast.
I think both at Surrey and RMFW, the opportunity to unwind at the end of the day was important. We still talked writing, but it could just as easily swing off into another rabbit trail about research or history or what have you. It was never boring.
Carrie, another Gnomie, didn’t come to RMFW because she went to a historical conference instead. She didn’t feel like she came away with much of a desire to write. I’m not sure what the difference is. I think part of it is just being with friends so you can unwind at the end of the day. Of course, with cupcakes, it was easy to make new friends.
In addition to the cupcakes, Kari brought sugar cookies with homemade huckleberry jam filling. Yum. To die for. The best part, we kept them in our room so we could wake up to cookies for breakfast appetizers. I brought Texas Trash, the white chocolate kind. Jen, I think brought mini cheesecakes. Someone else brought some yummy coconut bars. Our tables were overflowing with goodies.
And, in case you missed the luscious cupcakes, here is the bakery again.
Now for the surprise. Beth, the consummate professional, had reminded everyone to be sure and pay Kari for their part of the cupcake bill. I had already paid her, but a certain Janet Reid insisted on buying the cupcakes because they were her idea. They really weren’t, though cupcakes are never far from her mind, but it was a very sweet gesture. So many people enjoyed her treat and her hospitality. I was surprised at how easily she combined relaxing with meeting with clients and prospective clients. From her demeanor, you couldn’t tell the difference between old friends chatting over old times and her ripping the guts out of a manuscript. I guess that’s the true art of a good agent.
Case in point. Janet had read Kari’s latest manuscript and wanted to talk to her about it in Denver. Janet had some valuable advice, but she couched it in an either or manner. What they discussed is between them, but I was terribly impressed with the way it was presented. I’ve heard horror stories of agents who have an author re-write and re-write and re-write until the story bears no resemblance to the original one and then the agent isn’t interested and the author has just spent three years demolishing their concept.
I think Janet is a top notch agent. She knows her business. She knows what sells. She knows what she wants and if she believes in you, she’s in it for the long haul. That’s pretty tough to beat in a dog-eat-dog world like publishing.
Why, yes, I am a Janet Reid fan. Not because she might represent me, but because I respect her integrity. She’ll tell you flat out if something isn’t going to work.
I used to interview some trainers who were like that. They’d try a colt for an owner. If the baby just didn’t have what it was going to take, they’d tell the owner they can keep trying him or her and see if something clicks or maybe just let the horse go home and grow up. Some babies need to mature mentally before they can handle racing. Sometimes they told the owner to keep it for a saddle horse or sell it, but don’t waste any more money trying to run it. Of course, sometimes they guess completely wrong and the dud went on to be a champion. The point is, they didn’t lie to the owner and guarantee them they had a winner. They honestly assessed the potential for success.
Honesty is a valuable commodity to me.
Kari and I did some brainstorming in the dark. Mainly I just listened while Kari thought out loud and by the time we went to sleep, the germs for the new direction were already sprouting.
That is one of the greatest secrets of horse training. Instill in the horse a love of doing something and it never becomes a chore. So it goes with the writer, strike that spark and fan the flame so the joy of writing shows through on the page. Janet didn’t browbeat her in a certain direction. She said you need to do this or do that to make it stronger. Kari was the writer and it was her choice.
Having chances to sit down and visit with the agents in a non-threatening environment gives the writers a chance to get a feel for the agent’s personality. They can see if the match “feels” right. Even if you don’t get a chance to sit down and chat with the agent, you can tell a lot about them just the way they move.
Kristin Nelson? A ball of energy. I can’t even imagine her slowing down enough to sleep. I think she’s one of the sharpest, most professional agents going. She knows her business and I get the impression if she believed in a project, she’d be a mama bulldog to see it through. I have no idea why I think she would be so tough, because she always had a smile on her face and a ready laugh.
Therein lies another advantage to the conferences. People watching. You love the way Agent X sounds on paper, but after listening to them on the panel and seeing them whizzing around the conference, is this someone you want to be a partner with a long time? Maybe you’ve decided Agent Y moves up on the list after visiting with him or her.
I don’t think anything replaces personal contact when making important business decisions like this. If you can afford to go to a conference, especially if some of your favorite agents are there, find a way to do it.
They might share their cupcakes with you.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
RMFW Critique Groups
Critiquing. If we’re writers, it goes with the territory.
Beth Shope has a very good description on Books and Writers.
One of her links to critiquing advice.
Her second link to critiquing.
Her third link to a Nathan Bransford blog post.
I strongly suggest everyone go read Beth's post on Books and Writers. It's excellent. She is one of those writers who are very skilled and also fantastic teachers.
Everyone has their own method. Mine is to always look for something the writer has done well and comment on that. One woman, who shall remain nameless, said, “Some stories are so bad the only thing I can say is I loved it when I read “The End.’” Me, being warped, guffawed.
I try to look for a bit more than that.
In the critique groups at Denver, there was no way to know where these writers were in their journeys. If they are experienced, they can handle in depth, honest critiques. If they are starting out, too many negative comments can take the starch out of them in a hurry. Then there are some who really don’t want critiques; they want “atta boys.”
We were supposed to have ten members and a moderator who was an agent or editor. Having no idea what level these writers were put me at a disadvantage. Two of them were very easy to pigeonhole. Courtney and Beth. Top notch, professional writers. It didn’t surprise me when I visited with Courtney later and she told me she already had an agent and they were getting ready to submit her manuscript. It was smooth, well written and an exciting story. Beth doesn’t have an agent, but she has a book I would pick up off the shelves in a heartbeat.
Everyone does it different, but I think there are a few things to keep in mind.
1. Find something the author does well and comment on that.
2. Be honest. An agent or editor isn’t going to turn down a manuscript for fear of hurting the writer’s feelings. An honest evaluation should help the writer smooth out their masterpiece.
3. You can be honest without being brutal.
4. If the work is so bad you have to fight to keep yourself from setting it on fire, find a few things to comment on generally that need work. You don’t have to point out every instance where they ended a sentence with a “space period space.” Point out the pattern a few times and let the author correct course. (That being said, I like it when critiquers note every problem because my jaded eye misses them.)
5. If you find a particular passage that is exceptionally well done, point it out so the author knows what they are doing right as well as what they are doing wrong.
6. Critique to your strengths. If you have an eye for dialogue and plot, then expound on that. If you’re great with punctuation, do that. You don’t have to be all things to all people. That’s were having a solid writing group with different strengths comes in handy. They are each seeing different things.
7. Don’t rewrite the person’s manuscript. Respect their voice.
8. If the person is defensive or belligerent, just chalk it up to experience and move on.
9. Not everyone will agree with your opinion.
10. Have fun and don’t stress yourself over it.
Beth and I were fortunate enough to get in Ms. Kaitlin Heller’s critique group. RMFW sent out copies of the other participants’ first ten pages well ahead of time so we could critique them. We were supposed to bring them to the class and give them to the owners so they could study them later.
I have pros and cons about this. Kaitlin, obviously was a skilled teacher who gave some very good advice. That's a big plus to get feedback by someone like her. It's also a plus to get feedback from a variety of people.
The con is some people really don't know what they are talking about, so you have to be skilled enough to recognize these comments and move past them.
Kaitlin wanted each of us to go around the room and make a good comment about the entry and one noting weaknesses.
One of our illustrious members apparently didn’t have time to read the entries or comment on them. He simply wrote, “Good luck” on every one of them. That irritated me. He basically told me, “I want your comments on my masterpiece, but I’m too important to take out time and read yours.” I do think he probably hurriedly glanced through them that morning or the day before. There were a few he knew nothing about and tried to read through the pages quickly so he could make a comment.
His comment on Beth’s was she writes in a passive voice. He’s completely wrong, but he’s fallen into the “If you see was it’s passive,” trap.
Several of them commented on the same points in my submission for good or ill. I knew some things worked and others definitely needed improvement. I was glad most of them got the humor.
Then there was Mad Mary, name changed to protect the whatever she is. She made extensive notes on everything. What made me feel bad was the amount of work and time she put into the critiques. On one part of Paladin, she commented, “it’s obvious she is getting married so--”and told me how to write the story. Well, no, she isn’t getting married so starting out with the wedding probably won’t work.
She made numerous, copious, overflowing notes about what all was wrong with Paladin. According to her, I really didn’t have a story and it was overwritten etc. The comments were mostly taken straight out of a writing 101 book and she quoted all the popular don’t ever rules. She even pointed out some adverbs and identified them as such. I wanted to give her a gold star for recognizing them.
Yes, I am sorry to say my manuscript does have some adverbs. Woe is me! She also told me to never use a semi colon or italics to denote thoughts. Thoughts should be like dialogue, but instead of saying “she said” you say, “she thought.”
She also criticized my setting, admonishing me that people in this time period wouldn’t white wash their walls. Umm, excuse me, this is a fantasy and if you want to be technical, people in a comparable time period did use whitewash. It’s used as a way of dating ancient buildings.
She shredded Courtney’s work, which was beautiful.
Beth also got shredded. I think the best line was when she told Beth, “A man in this culture wouldn’t use a harp, he would use a pipe or sing a cappella.”
For those of you who don’t know, Beth is writing a fantasy. I’m not sure how Mad Mary honed in on the culture so accurately in those first pages to tell they would not use harps.
One of the stories I had to force myself to read because it was so confusing I couldn’t tell who was doing what even after going back and rereading several times. I did force myself to finish and find something positive to say, but I honestly said it was so confusing I had no idea who was doing what or why.
Then there was the rape scene. A woman watches a barbarian army capture her keep and she waits in a tower. They break the door down and even though she can't understand what they are saying she knows what they want when they knock all the maps off the heavy table that takes several of them to drag over to her so they can do the dastardly deed.
I’m sorry. I’m horrible and I admit it. I’ve played this scene out in my mind. Six or eight hulking barbarians splinter a heavy wooden door and spot their prize. They flash grins complete with broken, green teeth and wiggle their eyebrows at her then thrust their manly pelvises at her and grunt. She throws her hand to her furrowed brow and gasps, “Oh, no. I know what they want. Woe is me or is it woe is I? It’s definitely woe.”
Wait, they’re clearing off the five hundred-pound map table and dragging it to me. No! They intend to do the boom boom on Papa’s favorite map table. It’s heavy though, so I have time to do my nails before they defile me.
No, I did not keep my mouth shut in the critique group. You’d think I would, but I didn’t.
“Excuse me. This woman has just witnessed this horrific battle. The barbarians have broken into the map room and found her alone, alluring and vulnerable. She knows they’re going to do the dastardly because they clean off the map table and start dragging it to her. This doesn’t even make sense. Why don’t they just throw her down on the ground and defile her or pick her up and take her to the table if they need the table, though God knows why they need a table. I’m certainly no expert on raping a woman, but I don’t understand.”
One of the guys piped up. “This is why you need a guys point of view.”
“OK, explain to me. Why are they dragging the table over to her?”
“Well, I didn’t say I had any experience in this.”
So, later that night at the cupcake bash, I cornered some men. I needed a man’s point of view. Terry Wright and Jim Born happened to be the unlucky males gathered around the watering hole when I popped the question. I explained the set up and asked why they had to drag a table over to the hapless victim.
“She looked better over there?”
“Better lighting.”
“Thanks guys. No more cupcakes for you.”
Beth and I got the critiques and brought them down to go over with others who weren’t there. Others from other groups brought theirs down.
There were a lot of good and valuable comments. We all agreed Kaitlin’s comments were spot on. Imagine, an editor giving really good advice on how to improve your story. Who knew?
Other pieces of advice we hashed out. Some were valid and others the gnomes disagreed on.
We all agreed to pretty much ignore Mad Mary. Poor Riordan will never sing a cappella or play a pipe and I will continue to use semi colons. Yes, I know, I’m a rebel.
Beth Shope has a very good description on Books and Writers.
One of her links to critiquing advice.
Her second link to critiquing.
Her third link to a Nathan Bransford blog post.
I strongly suggest everyone go read Beth's post on Books and Writers. It's excellent. She is one of those writers who are very skilled and also fantastic teachers.
Everyone has their own method. Mine is to always look for something the writer has done well and comment on that. One woman, who shall remain nameless, said, “Some stories are so bad the only thing I can say is I loved it when I read “The End.’” Me, being warped, guffawed.
I try to look for a bit more than that.
In the critique groups at Denver, there was no way to know where these writers were in their journeys. If they are experienced, they can handle in depth, honest critiques. If they are starting out, too many negative comments can take the starch out of them in a hurry. Then there are some who really don’t want critiques; they want “atta boys.”
We were supposed to have ten members and a moderator who was an agent or editor. Having no idea what level these writers were put me at a disadvantage. Two of them were very easy to pigeonhole. Courtney and Beth. Top notch, professional writers. It didn’t surprise me when I visited with Courtney later and she told me she already had an agent and they were getting ready to submit her manuscript. It was smooth, well written and an exciting story. Beth doesn’t have an agent, but she has a book I would pick up off the shelves in a heartbeat.
Everyone does it different, but I think there are a few things to keep in mind.
1. Find something the author does well and comment on that.
2. Be honest. An agent or editor isn’t going to turn down a manuscript for fear of hurting the writer’s feelings. An honest evaluation should help the writer smooth out their masterpiece.
3. You can be honest without being brutal.
4. If the work is so bad you have to fight to keep yourself from setting it on fire, find a few things to comment on generally that need work. You don’t have to point out every instance where they ended a sentence with a “space period space.” Point out the pattern a few times and let the author correct course. (That being said, I like it when critiquers note every problem because my jaded eye misses them.)
5. If you find a particular passage that is exceptionally well done, point it out so the author knows what they are doing right as well as what they are doing wrong.
6. Critique to your strengths. If you have an eye for dialogue and plot, then expound on that. If you’re great with punctuation, do that. You don’t have to be all things to all people. That’s were having a solid writing group with different strengths comes in handy. They are each seeing different things.
7. Don’t rewrite the person’s manuscript. Respect their voice.
8. If the person is defensive or belligerent, just chalk it up to experience and move on.
9. Not everyone will agree with your opinion.
10. Have fun and don’t stress yourself over it.
Beth and I were fortunate enough to get in Ms. Kaitlin Heller’s critique group. RMFW sent out copies of the other participants’ first ten pages well ahead of time so we could critique them. We were supposed to bring them to the class and give them to the owners so they could study them later.
I have pros and cons about this. Kaitlin, obviously was a skilled teacher who gave some very good advice. That's a big plus to get feedback by someone like her. It's also a plus to get feedback from a variety of people.
The con is some people really don't know what they are talking about, so you have to be skilled enough to recognize these comments and move past them.
Kaitlin wanted each of us to go around the room and make a good comment about the entry and one noting weaknesses.
One of our illustrious members apparently didn’t have time to read the entries or comment on them. He simply wrote, “Good luck” on every one of them. That irritated me. He basically told me, “I want your comments on my masterpiece, but I’m too important to take out time and read yours.” I do think he probably hurriedly glanced through them that morning or the day before. There were a few he knew nothing about and tried to read through the pages quickly so he could make a comment.
His comment on Beth’s was she writes in a passive voice. He’s completely wrong, but he’s fallen into the “If you see was it’s passive,” trap.
Several of them commented on the same points in my submission for good or ill. I knew some things worked and others definitely needed improvement. I was glad most of them got the humor.
Then there was Mad Mary, name changed to protect the whatever she is. She made extensive notes on everything. What made me feel bad was the amount of work and time she put into the critiques. On one part of Paladin, she commented, “it’s obvious she is getting married so--”and told me how to write the story. Well, no, she isn’t getting married so starting out with the wedding probably won’t work.
She made numerous, copious, overflowing notes about what all was wrong with Paladin. According to her, I really didn’t have a story and it was overwritten etc. The comments were mostly taken straight out of a writing 101 book and she quoted all the popular don’t ever rules. She even pointed out some adverbs and identified them as such. I wanted to give her a gold star for recognizing them.
Yes, I am sorry to say my manuscript does have some adverbs. Woe is me! She also told me to never use a semi colon or italics to denote thoughts. Thoughts should be like dialogue, but instead of saying “she said” you say, “she thought.”
She also criticized my setting, admonishing me that people in this time period wouldn’t white wash their walls. Umm, excuse me, this is a fantasy and if you want to be technical, people in a comparable time period did use whitewash. It’s used as a way of dating ancient buildings.
She shredded Courtney’s work, which was beautiful.
Beth also got shredded. I think the best line was when she told Beth, “A man in this culture wouldn’t use a harp, he would use a pipe or sing a cappella.”
For those of you who don’t know, Beth is writing a fantasy. I’m not sure how Mad Mary honed in on the culture so accurately in those first pages to tell they would not use harps.
One of the stories I had to force myself to read because it was so confusing I couldn’t tell who was doing what even after going back and rereading several times. I did force myself to finish and find something positive to say, but I honestly said it was so confusing I had no idea who was doing what or why.
Then there was the rape scene. A woman watches a barbarian army capture her keep and she waits in a tower. They break the door down and even though she can't understand what they are saying she knows what they want when they knock all the maps off the heavy table that takes several of them to drag over to her so they can do the dastardly deed.
I’m sorry. I’m horrible and I admit it. I’ve played this scene out in my mind. Six or eight hulking barbarians splinter a heavy wooden door and spot their prize. They flash grins complete with broken, green teeth and wiggle their eyebrows at her then thrust their manly pelvises at her and grunt. She throws her hand to her furrowed brow and gasps, “Oh, no. I know what they want. Woe is me or is it woe is I? It’s definitely woe.”
Wait, they’re clearing off the five hundred-pound map table and dragging it to me. No! They intend to do the boom boom on Papa’s favorite map table. It’s heavy though, so I have time to do my nails before they defile me.
No, I did not keep my mouth shut in the critique group. You’d think I would, but I didn’t.
“Excuse me. This woman has just witnessed this horrific battle. The barbarians have broken into the map room and found her alone, alluring and vulnerable. She knows they’re going to do the dastardly because they clean off the map table and start dragging it to her. This doesn’t even make sense. Why don’t they just throw her down on the ground and defile her or pick her up and take her to the table if they need the table, though God knows why they need a table. I’m certainly no expert on raping a woman, but I don’t understand.”
One of the guys piped up. “This is why you need a guys point of view.”
“OK, explain to me. Why are they dragging the table over to her?”
“Well, I didn’t say I had any experience in this.”
So, later that night at the cupcake bash, I cornered some men. I needed a man’s point of view. Terry Wright and Jim Born happened to be the unlucky males gathered around the watering hole when I popped the question. I explained the set up and asked why they had to drag a table over to the hapless victim.
“She looked better over there?”
“Better lighting.”
“Thanks guys. No more cupcakes for you.”
Beth and I got the critiques and brought them down to go over with others who weren’t there. Others from other groups brought theirs down.
There were a lot of good and valuable comments. We all agreed Kaitlin’s comments were spot on. Imagine, an editor giving really good advice on how to improve your story. Who knew?
Other pieces of advice we hashed out. Some were valid and others the gnomes disagreed on.
We all agreed to pretty much ignore Mad Mary. Poor Riordan will never sing a cappella or play a pipe and I will continue to use semi colons. Yes, I know, I’m a rebel.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
It's Will's Birthday
Will holding his niece Samantha at a day old.
Will feeding Logan at 7 weeks. His four-day leave before deploying was the first time he got to see him.
Brandon and Will bantering about something.
I wish I had the scanner working. I would love to post some pictures of Will when he was younger.
I wasn’t supposed to be able to get pregnant with him, and yet I was. Don was petrified there would be something wrong with him because I was in my thirties. I knew God would take care of my miracle child. Being pregnant is like a poison to my system. It’s like a bad flu only it goes on and on. It wasn’t a good time for another baby. The economy was in shambles, but I could not believe how blessed I was.
The doctor suggested I get an abortion because he was convinced I wouldn't survive the pregnancy. That was not an option.
During the first sonogram the doctor told me I was placenta previa. The placenta was covering the birth canal. He said it usually migrated up during the pregnancy, but there was a chance if I went into labor, we would have problems. The main problem was I would bleed out quickly if there was a tear; I lived thirteen miles from town and Don was gone all the time. In the end, the doctor said he thought that was what kept the baby from engaging and probably saved him.
Will truly was my miracle baby.
I always go into premature labor, which is just a fact of life. With Will it was a day of contractions starting mid-morning and lasting until night. Days when I felt something was different I drove to the hospital so they could stop the contractions. The doctor really didn’t believe I was have true contractions even though the nurses told him they were stronger than women who had been on pit all morning. They would get things stopped and back home I went. There was also some nerve damage that made it painful to move. Or sometimes I would take a step and my right leg just collapsed.
That’s when I started writing to get my mind off the pain. I filled notebook after notebook with stories, television shows, episodes for the shows, a movie, cartoons, cartoon strips.
My sister-in-laws were on a “think pink” campaign. They even bought a pink baby sleeper to reinforce it.
Mary planned on going to Ireland, a life long dream, in the early fall. She checked into a hospital before she went because she was feeling very tired. They found a spot on her lung. Even though she fought it for three weeks, surviving one medical disaster after another, she finally succumbed. Mary was a story all her own. She was a beautiful, witty, tough lady who went to Alaska with a tiny baby, no education and worked her way up in the banking industry to become so respected she was often called on as an expert witness if federal cases.
Will was born on Mary’s birthday. I think he was born with her same determination and cheerful spirit. I know he was born with her love of Ireland.
He was very sick when he was born and had to stay in the hospital. It was heartbreaking to see them trying to give him IVs with antibiotics and as a last resort they had to give them in his head. He was the darling of the nurses and they argued over whose turn it was to feed him or rock him.
His esophagus didn't close right so I slept sitting up with him on my chest so I could hear him if he started choking. He twined his fingers around my long hair as he slept and eventually found one of my old wiglets. He packed it around like a teddy bear which drove Don'a family insane because it looked like he was carrying a scalp.
It didn’t matter how long he had been asleep, he always woke up happy. He beamed a smile at me like he was just happy to be here. He has retained that same sweet spirit throughout his life. He has a certain joy de vive that is infectious to be around.
He was one of those children a parent could talk to and correct. I never had a problem out of him. He did well in school. He joined the JROTC and quickly assumed responsibilities there. Then, at seventeen, he joined the National Guard while he was a junior in high school.
I’ve already gone on about this in another post so I won’t repeat myself.
I think one thing I will remember when I am very, very old is the sunset alerts. He shares my love of sunrises and sunsets, though I think he prefers sunsets simply because sunrises require getting up earlier. There is nothing to compare to the awe and beauty in some sunsets and it’s particularly satisfying to share them with someone you love. We sat and watched the sun go down together, basking in glory and peace.
When the chicken population exploded due to the neighbors hens getting loose and laying eggs at our place, which had lost of dropped oats from horses, we had to thin them out. Don, suggested we butcher some. I told him he could butcher, gut, skin and eat them. I had all the chicken butchering I wanted on the ranch.
There was a man at the animal shelter who had some friends who wanted chickens just to keep the manure scratched up and some fresh eggs. I wanted to make sure they wouldn’t go to people fighting chickens, since the root stock of these chickens were fighters. I made sure where they were going to and we went on the great chicken hunt.
We made some chicken hooks and waited until after dark. Several of them roosted on top of the tack room so that was a good place to start. Will and his best friend Wes, who was a massive football player, became the hunters. Will did an excellent Croc hunter imitation. He had the accent down pat and there were “crikeys” galore. I wish I had a video camera.
They snuck up on the sleeping chickens with whispered commentary about the elusive and dangerous chickens. The ones on top of the tack room were difficult because they had to climb up on something to get to the chickens and thrusting out a chicken hook while trying to balance on a 55-gallon drum isn’t the easiest thing. The croc hunter and his aide cleared out enough tack room chickens to cause an extinction.
Once a rudely awakened chicken was snared, they put it in the coon cage, where they would stay until I had enough to make a chicken run. The former owners had a pet raccoon. I had no desire to have one of them, but the cage was perfect for chickens.
Will always found a way to make a chore fun, if not sane. He has a sense of humor that lifts me up and a gentleness of spirit that melts my heart. It amazes me to see this combined with the man he has become.
He spoke once of some insurgents who were planting a bomb on the road outside the base. They blew themselves up. There wasn’t much left of some of them. What was left of others was pretty grisly. I listen to him talk about some things that would be pretty nerve-wracking and it’s just another day at the office.
“It’s kind of like that rocket attack at KV.”
“Wait a minute. You never told me about a rocket attack.”
There’s a “oops” look on his face. “I didn’t? Hmmm. I thought I did. Anyway, I was inside when I heard this loud boom, so I walked outside. The marines had been working on a generator all morning and I figured they blew it up. I didn’t see any smoke or fire, so I went back inside. A little bit later someone ran in and told me to muster so everyone could be accounted for. The loud boom was a rocket they fired at us. It went over the camp and hit outside the other wall, so I went back to what I was doing.”
He has the same physical toughness that seems to run in this family. He fell off a ladder when he was working on the house. I found out later he had done some serious damage to his knee, but he didn’t want to go to the doctor. Just tough it out. Sometimes I want to reach out and thump heads over this stuff.
This combination of tough and gentle amazes me.
I watch him care for his baby and every fiber of my mother’s being warms. Logan is crazy about his daddy and Will’s only thought is, “What’s best for this baby?”
He’s twenty-three years old today. He’s been in the National Guard for almost six years. He’s been to war. He’s helped build a house. He’s raising a baby on his own.
He should be the munchkin in my arms, but instead he towers over me. Dark hair curls above his tee shirt and I reach over to pat his hand that should be a tiny little mitt wrapped in mine. I thumb the back of his hand and he says, “Hairy, like monkey.”
“Yes, hairy, like monkey.”
Then, those large, hairy hands reach down to gently pluck his baby out of my arms and cradle him to his chest. He meets his son’s baby kiss and smiles. “He likes kisses.”
I wonder how I was so blessed to have this wonderful young man in my life. Thank you, Lord.
He's the one who encouraged me to write fantasy. He was the first one who believed in me. Maybe it was those dinosaur books I wrote for him when he was little and we were going through our dinosaur phase. He has never stopped believing in me.
I had planned on taking him to Ireland for his birthday this year, but things didn't quite work out. We'll go next year. This one's for you.
Happy birthday, sweetheart. Mother loves you.
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