Julie Weathers

Giving Thanks

2011-11-24T10:21:00.002-06:00

It's Thanksgiving and I have a lot to be thankful for. Three healthy children after a doctor told me I shouldn't try to have more children. This was after Mirinda died and he rightfully predicted I would have trouble carrying another child. I wanted six children and had four. I've lived to see three of them grown with families of their own.

Healthy grandbabies. Healthy, adorable, happy and intelligent grandbabies make a person's life complete.

My parents are alive and well. They've both had their share of health problems, so this is another true blessing.

I have a home and I have food.

I have some of the best writing friends a person could have. I expect to see them all in print one day. Many of them already are, and that is the quality of the group.

I'm thankful for our military and their families who spend so many of these holidays apart. We owe them a debt that can't be repaid and a simple thanks isn't enough, but it's a beginning.

With that in mind, I'd like to promote a few worthy sites where people can get involved to help them.

Tell Them Thanks This is an organization that puts people who wish to send letters and care packages to service members who have put their name on a list to be adopted. The nice thing about this is they have the service member fill out a form requesting the things they most desire so you aren't sending Starbucks coffee beans to a soldier who is in a remote location with no coffee grinder, electricity or coffee pot. I've been getting names and addresses from them for a few years now and they are great people.

Soldiers' Angels This is a remarkable organization. If you have any skill at all, they can use you. They make quilts and blankets for wounded soldiers and those who are simply in very cold areas with little to no heat. Another team makes mufflers. They send care packages, help with the families of the deployed, help wounded warriors and many other vital missions.

The Wounded Warrior Project This is a project given much attention by Gary Sinise. When our heroes return wounded, they face a multitude of challenges and this organization helps them meet them.

The Gary Sinise Foundation The is the home of Gary Sinise's foundation to help Wounded Warrior projects, first responders, disabled American vets and other worthy outreaches. Sinise's Lt. Dan Band has performed all over the world for the troops and at fundraisers for the organization.

Books For Soldiers This is a wonderful organization that allows soldiers to request books and other materials to help pass the time. I know a lot of my friends are readers, so here's a great way to pass on books to people who will truly treasure them.

J.E.B Stuart and Pirate Latitudes

2011-09-18T11:46:00.002-05:00

I can't believe September is half gone and Christmas looms just around the corner, but so it does. My birthday was the twelfth and I spent a quiet one at home remembering another birthday in Denver. There, at a writers' conference, a group of dear friends held a surprise birthday party for me. Surprise is hardly the word for it. I couldn't stop crying. It was the first birthday party I've ever had in my life and the thoughtfulness of these friends reminded me how very, very blessed I am.

I recently finished reading PIRATE LATITUDES by Michael Crichton. It was a spur of he moment buy as I have been focusing on Civil War reading, particularly books about J.E.B. Stuart. The last one I finished I will not name because I was so dissatisfied with the job the author did. Plus, the migraines hamper reading much at all, but the book spoke to me and I answered. Yes, the cover did catch my attention. I'm one of those people who won't buy for a cover, but they often catch my eye long enough to make me pick the book up.

In this case, I was so glad I did. The book was found on Michael Crichton's hard drive after he passed away and the family decided to publish it. I'm so glad they did. I thoroughly enjoyed it. I loved the historical detail and the rollicking fun adventure.

Of course, one thing that may have influenced my decision is Captain Boots Trelaine, my pirate in FAR RIDERS. I'm nearing the end of this round of revisions. I've added a character, changed up the story some to invest, I hope, the readers more in the existing characters, and twisted things a bit more.

One thing that niggles at the back of my mind is how the series will end. There is a satisfying enough ending if FAR RIDER is the only story that sees the light of day, but it really is part of a series. I actually know how the series ends. I have the scene roughed out already. I know what happens to some of the leading characters, but the middle is very fuzzy to completely non-existent.

I spoke to Beth Shope, a writer friend of mine, about this and posed the question, "What if FAR RIDER sells and someone asks what happens next? I really don't know." Her answer was perfect, as always. "Have you thought about looking at the character line and thinking about what happens to each one?'

Well, that got the wheels to turning. Lately, I've had problems sleeping due to pain, so that gives me a lot of hours in the dark to think. I finally worked out Capt. Trelaine's story and I love what he does and who he will become. Trelaine is one of those characters women will love, I think. Originally, I had thought of him dying tragically soon into the second book, but this is much more satisfying and satisfies my lust for pirate adventures.

To that end, someone suggested I read Patrick O'Brian's books. I ordered the first four books in the series and the movie MASTER AND COMMANDER. I started the first book last night and I've fallen in love with the writing. I wonder if O'Brian would have a hard time getting an agent or publisher today because it seems to start a bit slow, but I was so immediately caught up in the character and the writing I can't help but believe others would be also. There is a reason he was a top-selling author, after all.

The downfall to reading both of these books is I realized how much I truly adore these novels where the settings are described in detail. I love getting sucked into these worlds and then I make the mistake of going back to my little fantasy world that seems woefully devoid of these passages I love in other books.

Somewhere twixt and between is the happy middle, I hope.

The Wave

2011-07-18T12:05:00.001-05:00

I'm sitting here with a bag of frozen chocolate chips under my foot. It would be frozen veggies, but I, in my fervor to clean out the freezer didn't remember that frozen veggies make excellent ice packs.

So, why do I need an ice pack at all, be it veggies or chocolate chips or ever real ice packs? Well, in addition to the other maladies related to the accident and a steadily deteriorating body, I may have a problem with the plantar fascia that causes heel pain which, in turn, causes more walking pain. Treatment for said problem is stretching and ice. Hopefully, it hasn't already caused a bone spur. Who would have thought one could get a bone spur from that?

Anyway, my fearless writing partners tackled another scene. This is one where Gen is chosen to go with a patrol to destroy a "zombie" who was a fallen paladin. Paladins are rare in my world. There is only one remaining, and yet everyone desires to one day become one.

I introduced some elements to the story I really like. They develop the characters more and give the story increased depth. I'm still having a problem bringing Gen more to the front in these scenes.

I had to think back a bit to the Harry Potter books. I don't like everything Rowling did, but I think she did a good job, for the most part, on character development. I came to realize this more when I looked up her character list to see how she handled it. That was prompted by the agent assistant suggestion I make a character list as well as add maps to the manuscript.

Rowlings' character list is immense and almost all of them have developed backgrounds. I am near the end of the last round of revisions, but I realized that I need to add a bit more about some of these characters. Even though many of them will die in the end, it doesn't matter if no one cares about them.

I compare this to McMurtry's dreaded farewell wave. When a character of his, one he made sure you love, turns to wave goodbye, you can bet he is going to die.

In LEGENDS, David Gimmel was brutal in killing off characters the reader loved. Even walk on characters became someone the reader cared about. Then he systematically wiped just about everyone out including the main character. It was a thoroughly depressing book and the last one I read by Gimmel. It was a good story, but just too danged depressing.

Getting back to the scene in question, (you thought I forgot, didn't you?) I wanted to bring some minor threads to the forefront. Many of these characters appear in the final battle, so I want readers to know them and care about what happens to them.

In the back of my mind was a demon named WordCount, growling at me every time I added more words instead of trimming. This paralyzed me in a way because I saw where I could add things that made people care, but I ignored them because that little counter kept ticking away.

What's even more worrying is I am concerned people won't truly care about the mc. What if I haven't developed her enough? What if no one cares if she waves?

So, life and writing go on.

The Surrender

2011-04-15T10:57:00.001-05:00

When the Civil War broke out, Robert E. Lee was in Texas. He received the news and spent the night pacing his room in the Menger Hotel in San Antonio, Texas, torn about what he should do. He was against slavery. He'd written editorial letters in newspapers with his views about why it was wrong and he believed in the near future the issue would resolve itself peacefully as more people in the south joined his belief and the practice simply became economically unsustainable.

Lee was staunchly in favor of the Union and the constitution.

His dreams for a peaceful solution ended with the secession of the southern states. Lt. Col. Lee had just been promoted to lead the Texas armies, but he was recalled to Washington with the looming war in the east. On February 1, 1861 Texas seceded from the Union just as Lee was preparing to go to Washington after being recalled by Lt. Gen. Winfield Scott. By April seven states had seceded. On April 18, 1861, four days after the fall of Fort Sumter, Scott offered Lee command of all the Union armies.

Lee replied, "I could take no part in an invasion of the southern states." He resigned his commission, ending more than thirty years of service to his country.

He loved the army. It was his life and his dream even before he entered West Point where he graduated without a single demerit in four years and was the first graduate to do so.

"I can anticipate no greater calamity for the country than a dissolution of the Union," Lee said in a letter to his son. "I will sacrifice everything but honor for its preservation."

On April 3, 1865, Richmond fell, ringing the death knell for the confederacy.

Lee's army was weak, exhausted and surrounded as they retreated to the west with Grant nipping at their heels.

On April 7, Grant initiated a series of dispatches that led to the eventual surrender at Appomattox Courthouse.

Grant's dispatch rider passed through Confederate lines to deliver the first message.

"General R.E. Lee, Commanding C.S.A.:
5 P.M., April 7th, 1865.
The results of the last week must convince you of the hopelessness of further resistance on the part of the Army of Northern Virginia in this struggle. I feel that it is so, and regard it as my duty to shift from myself the responsibility of any further effusion of blood by asking of you the surrender of that portion of the Confederate States army known as the Army of Northern Virginia.
U.S. Grant, Lieutenant-General"

Lee promptly responded and Grant received his answer shortly after midnight.

"April 7th, 1865.
General: I have received your note of this date. Though not entertaining the opinion you express of the hopelessness of further resistance on the part of the Army of Northern Virginia, I reciprocate your desire to avoid useless effusion of blood, and therefore, before considering your proposition, ask the terms you will offer on condition of its surrender.
R.E. Lee, General."

Grant, who was suffering from another of his debilitating headaches, replied early that morning.

"April 8th, 1865.
General R.E. Lee, Commanding C.S.A.:
Your note of last evening in reply to mine of the same date, asking the conditions on which I will accept the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia, is just received. In reply I would say that, peace being my great desire, there is but one condition I would insist upon,--namely, that the men and officers surrendered shall be disqualified for taking up arms against the Government of the United States until properly exchanged. I will meet you, or will designate officers to meet any officers you may name for the same purpose, at any point agreeable to you, for the purpose of arranging definitely the terms upon which the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia will be received.
U.S. Grant, Lieutenant-General"

As the armies continued to fight, and Lee retreated, Lee sent the following message.

"April 8th, 1865.
General: I received at a late hour your note of to-day. In mine of yesterday I did not intend to propose the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia, but to ask the terms of your proposition. To be frank, I do not think the emergency has arisen to call for the surrender of this army, but, as the restoration of peace should be the sole object of all, I desired to know whether your proposals would lead to that end. I cannot, therefore, meet you with a view to surrender the Army of Northern Virginia; but as far as your proposal may affect the Confederate States forces under my command, and tend to the restoration of peace, I should be pleased to meet you at 10 A.M. to-morrow on the old state road to Richmond, between the picket-lines of the two armies.
R.E. Lee, General."

Grant was exhausted and still suffering from his headache when he penned the reply at 5:00 in the morning.

"April 9th, 1865.
General: Your note of yesterday is received. I have not authority to treat on the subject of peace. The meeting proposed for 10 A.M. to-day could lead to no good. I will state, however, that I am equally desirous for peace with yourself, and the whole North entertains the same feeling. The terms upon which peace can be had are well understood. By the South laying down their arms, they would hasten that most desirable event, save thousands of human lives, and hundreds of millions of property not yet destroyed. Seriously hoping that all our difficulties may be settled without the loss of another life, I subscribe myself, etc.,
U.S. Grant, Lieutenant-General"

Still suffering, Grant received Lee's response as he approached Appomattox.

"April 9th, 1865.
General: I received your note of this morning on the picket-line, whither I had come to meet you and ascertain definitely what terms were embraced in your proposal of yesterday with reference to the surrender of this army. I now ask an interview, in accordance with the offer contained in your letter of yesterday, for that purpose.
R.E. Lee, General."

Grant immediately dismounted and wrote his response.

"April 9th, 1865.
General R. E. Lee Commanding C. S. Army:
Your note of this date is but this moment (11:50 A.M.) received, in consequence of my having passed from the Richmond and Lynchburg road to the Farmville and Lynchburg road. I am at this writing about four miles west of Walker's Church, and will push forward to the front for the purpose of meeting you. Notice sent to me on this road where you wish the interview to take place will meet me.
U. S. Grant, Lieutenant-General."

General Horace Porter later recorded in great detail the days leading up to the surrender and the actual agreement between the leaders.

It's an amazing detail in history and I strongly urge my readers to take a few moments of time to read it.

As I near the end of the revisions in FAR RIDER, I cannot help but think of the rest of the story, for although it reaches a satisfactory conclusion, it does not tell the entire story. The scheming baroness will continue to create events that stir up hatred toward the M'Eriyn until a final flashpoint causes an all out war.

Families will be torn asunder very similar to our own Civil War. My heroine will assume a role much like that of J.E.B. Stuart's to Gen. Lee. The young nobleman who once teetered on the brink of love will become her nemesis and hound her throughout the war.

A part of me wants to continue writing this story once I ship it off as I am fully in love with the tale and its characters. Another part of me realizes the sad truth. There is a very real possibility FAR RIDER will never draw its first breath, and so I will proceed to resume work on DRAGON VALLEY once FAR RIDER is re-sent to the agent.

Timeline by Michael Crichton Review

2011-03-31T10:50:00.002-05:00

TIMELINE by Michael Crichton was my last read by him. I've started this book several times and I have no idea why I never finished it.

TIMELINE starts out in the New Mexico desert. A wealthy couple is driving to a remote New Mexico town to purchase a Navajo weaving when an elderly man appears out of nowhere. There's a thump and the wife thinks they hit the man even though the husband can see him still standing beside the road. They turn around to check on him and then take him to the nearest hospital where the old man, dressed in an odd robe over modern clothes dies.

Crichton then weaves in some back story on key players, including an ex-military man named Gordon, a carefully groomed corporate lawyer named Kramer and a scheming corporate owner named Doniger. There is also the obligatory group of dedicated, selfless scientists who are more interested in pursuing the truth than fame and glory.

Sound familiar? Yes, the characters bear some resemblance to Jurassic Park, Lost World and Congo.

What is amazing to me is that Crichton carved out a niche for himself writing techno-thrillers that may seem formulaic, but the reader completely forgets that when they get pulled into his world.

Having researched quite a bit about ancient, Celtic and Medieval history for both pleasure and as background for my own books, I was pleasantly surprised that Crichton was so fastidious in building his medieval world. When you look at the five pages of bibliography, it's easy to see why his details, both scientific and historical are so well written. He put a tremendous amount of time and effort into this work.

For a lesser author, this could have turned into a bone-dry lecture instead of a rousing adventure. Crichton wrote the technical aspects of the story so well, I almost felt like he had been in a New Mexico laboratory taking notes.

The real adventure begins when ITC, Doniger's company that is supporting interesting archeological digs around the world, pulls in a team from France to show them what they are actually doing…time travel.

The team goes back to 1357 to rescue their leader who was sent back in time to prove the technology and the means for enhanced research of history. Unfortunately, Professor Johnson is trapped in time and the team, or at least most of them, go back to rescue him.

The world-building is wonderful. I felt like taking notes because he made it so real. If I had one complaint, it would be that one of the members goes from being a klutzy computer nerd to an accomplished and self-confident fighter in a matter of days. That was a bit of a stretch, but not enough that I didn't thoroughly enjoy the story.

I highly recommend this book. The book is definitely better than the movie was.

I'm Going To Write A Book

2011-03-23T09:21:00.000-05:00

Yes, I've been missing in action and we won't go into all the reasons. Partially, the migraines and ensuing other problems are getting worse. Partially, I'm still revising and I went to the beginning to make some more changes. Partially, I got very irritated when the computer crashed and I lost my maps I had spent weeks on. Partially, I've been doing some freelance articles for a magazine.

Mainly, I haven't had anything interesting to say.

However, today, someone I know as an online friend announced he/she was taking a break for a month and finishing their book. He/she is then going to send it to some publishers.

Me, "You're going to finish writing a book and send it to publishers?"

"Yes, it's time to get it done."

Me, "You know most major publishers won't take material from anyone but agents."

"I've done a lot of research. I know which publishers I want to approach. Besides, agents don't work for free and I don't want to give up control of my book. I'm a control freak."

Me, after stunned silence, "I had two publishers request my manuscript and I thank heavens I wasn't foolish enough to send it to them as it was. The agent who asked for revisions has helped me improve this story so much I don't even recognize it."

"Yes, well, I want to get mine done and published."

The unspoken thought being, "Yeah, you screw around doing revisions all you want, I'm going to get published."

Will called earlier, and we spoke for a while. I related the story to him and he's not even privy to the industry, but he was astounded. "Do they really think it's that simple?"

"I guess."

"I don't really like paying lawyers, but there's a reason you don't go to court without one."

"Yes, and aside from professional representation, the agent knows what needs to be polished to get the material in the best possible shape before sending it out."

He paused for a minute. "So they're just going to write this book and ship it off?"

Obviously, I hope this person realizes their dream because they really are a good person and everyone deserves to see their dreams come true. I'm just a little concerned about the route he/she is taking.

I read back over the first chapter of FAR RIDER today and realized how remarkably improved it is based on suggestions from the agent's minion. Said minion came up with an opening scenario I doubt I would have imagined.

Beth Shope made a comment about the new opening and said, "I was going to sleep and I thought about this. What happens to the horse?"

Good question. What does happen to the horse?

So, the new opening, I think, is an absolute knock out. These are two new exciting elements to the story that wouldn't have been there without these suggestions.

I've said this before and I really can't think of how many times and how many ways to say it. Good beta readers are worth their weight in gold. They see things you don't see. There are some writers who are so well trained and talented, they need little advice. Most mortals need fresh eyes.

Speaking of beta readers, mine have just finished commenting on a "new" chapter. The chapter replaces one that wasn't working. When a person is doing revisions, they wind up with new material. That new material is first draft. So, whole the majority of the manuscript might need just minor tweaking here and there, the first draft parts are all the way back to the beginning. For me, that means three or four rewrites after the beta readers see it.

Between some very good beta readers and agent suggestions, the manuscript should be competitive in the marketplace.

Going the step above and beyond, is the agent who makes suggestions and gives advice based on their professional knowledge of what's happening, but I think part of it is also a gut feeling. The agent wants to sell a book. You want to sell a book. They are not your enemy; they're the one in the trenches with you.

Like I said, I wish this person all the luck in the world, but I have doubts it will turn out quite as they planned. Then again, they'll have a book going to publishers in a month and I won't.

Who am I to say anything?

Social Media For The Young, The Innocent, And The Damned

2011-02-02T10:26:00.003-06:00

I had intended to add more about the social media portion of the 2011 Writer's Digest Conference, but the tweets are unavailable now.

However, from memory, I'll post a few things mentioned as well as my own thoughts.

One thing I noticed was many people feel establishing your online persona is imperative to a budding author.

Don Maass disagrees. He thinks writers can use blogs and various other social media to "scratch the itch" to write. As much as I enjoy writing, there are days that I've written a blog post and somewhere deep inside I feel satisfied. I shouldn't feel satisfied about writing until I've actually advanced my WIP. It's something writers should watch out for.

The other problem with establishing a social presence is the presence you establish.

Let's take for instance Tina Stull, who twitters as @tinastullracing. If you haven't had a chance to meet her, look her up now. This is a fascinating woman. She's one of those women I think has a story to tell that people would read.

Anyway, Tina tweeted the other night, "Remember to say a prayer for those who are serving this country. They are in danger so we might sleep in safety. God bless them all." She does this every night.

It got retweeted several times and an online astronomy professor with Drury University at Springfield, Missouri replied, "FUCK THE MILITARY! They volunteered! All they want to do is play war and kill. They don't do shit the constitution does" Via @astronomy_teach. Several people were upset about his rant which not only included that but several other eff bomb-laced remarks to people who responded to him.

Oddly enough, this esteemed professor was also involved with a mentoring program with NASA and was responsible for teaching 60 young children.

Someone reposted the professor's rant to NASA and NASA took down the professor's page and responded the professor was no longer involved with NASA.

The university responded on twitter " @tinastullracing We are aware of @astronomy_teach's statements. In no way do his views reflect those of Drury. We are handling internally."

The professor locked his social media accounts when it all hit the fan and I'm sure he was busy deleting all his posts about how crappy his job was also.

So, what's the moral of the story? If you're going to establish an online presence, think carefully about what you want that presence to say. If you're a writer, you want to send the right signals to not only those in the publishing industry who might be involved with your career, but also your future readers.

I'm not saying you can't express your opinions about things. That's your right.

It's no secret I am rabidly pro-troops. I will do whatever I can to help our service people. If that's a problem with some people then so be it. I'm not changing that.

I'm Christian. I make no secret of that, but neither do I force my beliefs on others. I simply am.

Here's what you need to think about, however. When you put that opinion out there in cyberspace, it's there forever. Even if you delete it, there's a chance someone copied it, screen-shotted it or rebroadcast it. Note the example of the professor above. Even after he tried covering his tracks by locking his accounts, others had already taken screenshots and retweeted them. His little rant will be around forever.

I don't know what the best way is to establish a pleasing online persona, but here is what I try to do.

1. Be interesting

2. Be yourself, unless yourself is really grouchy.

3. Try to amuse people without trying too hard. Fawning and trying to be humorous when you aren't is easily seen as someone trying too hard. However, people have their own problems. Everyone does. It's all right to post something serious or even sad at times, but a steady stream of it will turn people away.

Will got talked into going to see a Twilight movie. Later he was grocery shopping with Logan and the baby was fussing about something. Will told him, "Son, you can grow up to be anything you want in life except emo like Edward."

So it is with you. Leave emo to others.

(Obligatory picture of Will and Logan)

4. Think twice before you hit send. Once you do, you'll have to live with it.

5. Be the kind of person you'd like to be around.

If I'm in a grocery line at the store and I notice someone who looks tired or lonely, I visit with them. If it's an older person, I compliment them on something. That elderly lady in the bright purple dress probably hasn't had anyone tell her how pretty she looks in a long time. It's the same in social media. It only takes a moment to comment to someone and raise their spirits. It also only takes a moment to make a cutting remark that ruins their day. Be the person who raises the day to a new level.

6. If you're a writer, make sure you have something valid to say about writing before you blog about it. Nothing irritates me worse than to have someone send me to a blog for great writing advice and it's totally erroneous.

7. Enjoy yourself. Social media shouldn't be a second job. Having a fun blog with one hundred readers isn't going to make you a successful writer. Being a great writer will get the attention of agents and publishers. Social interaction will help you reach out to prospective readers and enhance your market.

#WDC11 Through Tweets

2011-01-23T12:28:00.004-06:00

I've been watching the Writer's Digest 2011 conference tweets. Some have been extremely helpful. I'm going to post a few of the comments that came through the twitter stream. Meredtih Barnes, @Mer_Barnes on twitter, was very busy yesterday, so I'll post quite a few of her "tweets."

Someone apparently asked in a panel if they should hire a ghost editor prior to submitting. I assume this means an editor who is working behind the scenes, not a dead editor who feels his mission on earth is still unfulfilled.

Janet Reid, bless her heart, responded. " Should I hire a ghosteditor? @Janet_Reid: BULLSHIT! You want to be a writer, you've got to write your own book. #askagent #wdc11 #lovemyboss"

I cannot tell you how glad I was to hear her state that up front, in no uncertain terms. I've blogged about this before, having had this discussion with a freelance editor who has come to dominate a writing chat on Twitter. She harps long and loud that you aren't serious about writing if you won't do without, make your family do without and sacrifice whatever it takes to hire someone like her. I used to attend these chats simply to try and learn something new. When it turned into a non-stop spam commercial for said editor and new writers eating up her drivel, I stopped.

I'm on my second agent requested revision. Here's the problem. Having revised extensively before the manuscript went out to the agent, I know every detail of every character. It's not in the manuscript, but it's there. As one intern correctly surmised, there are pages and pages of world-building that didn't make it into the final manuscript. If I had turned it over to an editor and they had made changes, I would not have grown this familiar with the characters and their stories because I wouldn't have really thought about why they do things.

Second, if the editor had made changes and cleaned up the manuscript, I wouldn't have learned how to do it and why to do it.

Third, when the first revision request came in, I would have scrambled for money to pay the editor to do his or her magic again and there simply isn't an extra dime in this house. The agent probably would have wondered why the tone or voice was different in places.

Fourth, when the revision letter comes in, two emotions hit. You're relieved you weren't rejected completely. Despair because you have no idea how to accomplish what they asked. Despair eventually gives way to some brainstorming, preferably with your trusted writers' pack. The ideas tossed out may or may not work, but eventually, something sticks and the light bulb goes on.

You're not going to get this from a paid editor. They simply don't have the time to sit down and toss around ideas. If they do, it's because you've got more money than sense and that may change at any moment.

In the end, it's your book. You need to write it and you need to learn how to edit it and revise it. Only you know how to pull out an entire subplot and reweave it to keep the salient points so no one ever notices the new threads in the tapestry. You need beta readers, but you have to write your book.

A question about literary fiction: Literary fiction: should I bother? Don Maas and @Janet_Reid chorus: OF COURSE YOU SHOULD BOTHER! #applause #wdc11 #askagent

"Quiet" literary fiction can do BIG things! It's about how "dramatically and passionately" you write about your subject. #askagent #wdc11

How do you know when your ms is ready? If ur getting comments that resonate as something you *need* to revise...keep revising. #askagent

Once you're getting "microadjustments," like you'd get from a line editor, you're ready to sub! #askagent #wdc11 #pubtip

The following tweet was probably some of the best advice I saw in the #wd11 stream.

If you're getting rejections, look at your novel and query. Don't exhaust all queriable agents before you rework things! #askagent #wdc11

Finally: Every rule is made to be broken. Just break it beautifully! (thx for the great sign-off, Don Maas!) #askagent #wdc11

I'll post more about this soon, because there was a lot of good information passed along. However, I wanted to touch a bit on the social media workshop. Now, think about this for a moment. I'm able to talk a bit about what happened in New York this weekend even though I wasn't there. That's the joy of social media. There are also some downsides, and I'm sure my downsides are not shared by everyone.

@JaneFriedman: Your job is to get your name out there. That's how you become successful as an author. @PatriciaVDavis #wdc11

Remember the discussion I had with an epub editor a few weeks ago? The one who said my only job was to create a platform and stop worrying about writing well? The one who thought Snooki was a prime example of how to do it right because if enough people know you, you can hire someone to write your novel?

Yeah, that discussion.

I understand what Ms. Friedman is saying, but I still contend, for most of us, writing a compelling story readers can't put down is our priority. After we do that, we do need to find ways to reach out to readers. We need to be active in our marketing of not only our books, but ourselves. The days of the prima dona writers who were unpleasant, hard to deal with and unapproachable are largely over. You need to adopt an attitude of willingness and open approachability. That person who went out of their way to say hello to you can tell 100's of people how much fun you were or how rude you were and they will never read another of your books. That, as Ms. Friedman says, is how you become a successful author.

I could blog like the Pioneer Woman and post wonderful recipes on my blog with witty stories to go along with them and possibly publish a cookbook. The problem is, I'm writing epic fantasy. I don't think someone is going to read my recipe for peanut butter pie and think, "Wow, I really want to read her fantasy."

Before you start blog, think about who'll send you traffic. Know community players, who you'll build relationships with. @DanBlank #wdc11 |

There were several comments along this vein and I think it's wise if you are serious about marketing yourself through social media.

The problem is, when I look at people through a "what can they do for me" glass, then I feel like I am prostituting myself. I follow interesting people on Facebook and Twitter. I follow them because they amuse, inform, or just interact with me in an intriguing fashion. If someone is prone to political rants, I find myself unfollowing them until the rants pass and then often I forget to go back and refollow. Even people I tend to agree with politically get unfollowed if they are just ranting with no basis in fact.

I follow the President of Russia, not because he can do anything for me, but because he occasionally posts some interesting things about the government there or pictures of beautiful places. That doesn't mean I'm planning to defect to Russia any time soon or that I think he can help me.

I follow a lot of people in publishing because I'm interested in what they think professionally and I enjoy their patter. I follow several editors who will never, ever see my manuscript, but they are fun people and I enjoy bantering with them. Follow them. Follow other writers and develop relationships, but do it with the idea that you can also do something for them, not what they can do for you. Build your base on interaction. Be someone people want to follow.

When you follow people just because you think they can help you, in my opinion, you turn into that creepy stalker guy at a conference. I don't want to ever be him.

I follow @Adamsbaldwin on twitter and he has followed me back. Think about that. What can Adam do for me? He's been phenomenal to repost requests for help for troops when I pass them to him and ask him if he can help. I'm sure he would block me if I did it very often, but I usually only ask when it's something very important or an emergency with a wounded soldier or something. Sometimes, the request is just to introduce more people to a good cause for soldiers. What can I do for him? Absolutely nothing. However, we shoot the bull, pass jokes back and forth and chat about politics. That appears to be enough for him, thankfully. If there is a definition of a gracious, down to earth celebrity, he's it.

He, I think, is how we all should be. Stop worrying about what people can do for you and concentrate on interacting with people.

Please follow @Mer_Barnes, @Janet_Reid and #wdc11 on twitter for a complete look at what happened this weekend through the eyes of the participants.

The Blinders of Desperation

2011-01-17T10:53:00.001-06:00

If you saw O BROTHER WHERE ART THOU, you might remember this scene where Tommy Johnson sold his soul to the devil.

I took my middle son, Cody, to Oklahoma City last week to pick up his truck. On the way we discussed his mechanic's wife, who had published a children's book. He showed it to me and I read it while he was gathering his clothes. I noticed, as I suspected, it was put out by Publish America.

Cody told me I should write children's books so I could get published also. I told him I couldn't afford to get published by them. Then I explained they publish these books and sell them to the author at wildly inflated prices and then the author has to try and resell them for a profit. In this case, the author buys the books for $15 and she tries to sell them for their list price of $25.

This is a tiny book that you might see at the dentist showing children how to brush their teeth or some other give away to promote something. It will probably last less than a week in a normal household with normal small children.

We continued to discuss the book and finally Cody said, "Mom, why do you have to be like that? You're such an elitist. It's not going to win any prizes, but I think it's cool she wrote a book and got it published." The unspoken thought that followed that was, "at least she has a published book, do you?"

He's right. At least she has a book in her hands and I don't.

The thought that flits across my mind after that is how much do I want a book in my hands?

The answer is, not bad enough to self publish.

Even so, I can see the attraction for writers. Writing a good book at times seems easy compared to the publishing journey. I think I'm a good writer, but that doesn't mean I don't have to work at it. Every now and then a gem drops on the page, precise and beautiful at birth. That doesn't happen often. Mostly a lot of sweat and blood pours on to the pages as I write, rewrite and revise. It's not an easy process and the publishing quest is even harder. However, it's a path we all must tread if we are serious about our writing.

It seemed almost odd that a few days later, Janet Reid posted something on twitter about a contest for writers. She did a blog post about it here and it gained a lot of attention. Read through the comments, that's where the real gems are.

Like this one that Janet pulled out and put in the body.

While I appreciate your comments. And I understand your vested interest in this business because if we're successful, we eliminate the need for literary agents, the contest hasn't launched yet.

So to post our rules and a link telling people that this is a contest to avoid is both self-serving and misleading. Are there issues with the rules, yes. But I think you should wait until the contest officially launches on Feb. 11, 2011, before you tell people to not join it. That's the fair thing to do.

Could I, a 20-year veteran in publishing as a writer and publisher, afford to put out a contest that rips people off? I'm not desperate. The goal is to truly find the next great author, something not too many people are actually looking for. What's been your success track record?

Blessings,

Karen Hunter

PS: I sleep extremely well every night because I operate in truth.

I glanced at the rules and the first thing that caught my eye was the entry fee of $149. The contest promoter responded with several interesting things in defense of this contest, but there really is none. This is a blatant rights grab and not only are they taking your rights, not just the winner, but anyone who enters, but they are also charging you $149 to take them.

Yes, please read the rules, anyone who enters this contest loses all rights to their manuscripts forever.

The sad thing is, if this contest goes forward, there will be a large group of desperate writers who scrape together the $149 to enter and only later, will they realize they lost their property. The contest promoter also said if they are insufficient entries, they reserve the right not to award the grand prize of $5,000 and a publishing contract the write MUST sign. They don't say what's in the contract or give you an option to negotiate. You are bound to sign it by the rules of the contest.

If you go to the "about us" page, you will note this statement, "It’s time for the producers of books to reclaim their power."

How utterly ironic. This publisher is about to empower writers, but first they're going to hold a contest to gut them.

So, once again, we come to the question. How much do you want to publish? Are you willing to self publish? Are you willing to enter this contest and hope for the best? Are you willing to join the James Frey stable of writers who give up their rights to their work for a few hundred dollars?

A caveat here, I have nothing against self-published authors who prefer that route, but let's be realistic, not everyone should be published and a lot of self-published works shouldn't have been.

At some point, the writer needs to take the blinders of desperation off and realize there are worse things than not being published.

Making Changes and Setting Goals

2011-01-02T11:13:00.000-06:00

Yesterday was the day I should have made my formal declaration of resolution. No, I am not so jaded with life I have given up on the idea that I can make changes for the better in my life. Declaring them in public and printing them out is the reminder to me.

I've heard it said if you do something consistently for twenty-one days, it becomes a habit. How odd bad habits only seem to take twice to form.

In training horses, a person thinks having a smart horse is an asset and most times they are. The flip side to that is many very intelligent horses pick up things quickly, including bad habits. It's up to the trainer to make sure a horse learns to do something correctly from the beginning or they will spend a whole lot more time resolving the problem. Smart horses also seem to figure out ways to get away with things much quicker.

So, perhaps, it is with humans. We need to do things correctly and repeat that correct thing until it becomes a habit we want.

These are changes we can make without grandiose goals set with unrealistic time frames.

With that in mind, I thought about the things I really want to change in my life. There are some things I have no control over. I may not like cold weather, but not liking it isn't going to change it. I can either turn up the heat, put on more clothes or move to a warmer climate.

As a writer, I should be vowing to write every day. There simply are some days that isn't going to happen. I might as well accept that and stop beating myself up when I don't.

There are also times I need to just set a work aside.

When training an animal, a smart trainer always ends on a high note. You have to keep working with the animal through a difficult situation, but when you recognize you're there, look for a small victory and quit. Don't keep pushing.

Animals, humans included, have saturation levels. As a dog trainer told me when I was taking his classes, the brain is like a sponge. When it's soaked up all it's going to, stop trying to force more into it. Go back and repeat things the dog does well so they have a sense of accomplishment and let the brain rest for a bit.

If your WIP is frustrating you to the point you want to hit delete, stop. Your sponge is full. Go do something else. Write a poem. Work on a different WIP. Write a short story. Read something that makes you feel good and let the problem story simmer on the back burner for a while. It's amazing what the subconscious can do when you leave it alone.

Give yourself your treat for doing something positive and move on until your mind is ready to tackle the problem child again.

That doesn't give you permission to stop writing. You're a writer. You'll have to deal with deadlines. It just means you can do something to clear your mind before you return to the battle.

And maybe that's the secret to success. Set realistic goals. Reward yourself when you achieve them. Don't beat yourself up when you fall behind. There are plenty of people in the world who will do that for you.

I finished FAR RIDER in 2010. That was my big goal. My writing also improved remarkably this last year. Even I am astounded. I'm not saying I'm "there," but things are starting to click with me easier.

So, for 2011, let's see what else I can finish.

1. Continue the me routine. Simply put, just take better care of myself. Hopefully, push these workman's comp doctors to actually get something done so I can go back to work. Given the severity and increasing frequency of the migraines and the increasing back pain, that would be good.

2. Lose weight, but more importantly, get in better shape.

3. Finish the outline for the rest of the FAR RIDER story.

4. Finish DRAGON VALLEY

5. Find an antique dresser. Keeping clothes in plastic clothes baskets is getting old and I'm too much of a snob to buy a piece of junk furniture at WalMart.

6. Find a Morse sewing machine. The migraines won't permit piecing quilt tops, but I can buy them off Ebay and finish them.

7. Move back to Texas with Will.

8. Start GIBSON'S GIRL.

9. Find my agent. I wish I could add get FAR RIDER published, but that is like the cold weather, there is only so much I can do.

10. Continue the house routine.

11. Continue working with Soldiers' Angels and Tell Them Thanks.

12. Start Stillwater Steam business. This is my idea for a steampunk accessory business. Will and I discussed this and he wants to help with it.

13. Go back to work. I want to think that is with my old company, but I don't know. I've put this in God's hands.

14. Go to the writer's retreat. I would like to go to Surrey also, but I think it will be an either or situation this year if anything.

15. Stay active in Sixx.

Black-Eyed Peas Recipe and the Good Luck Legend

2010-12-31T17:23:00.002-06:00

I wasn't born in the south, but I got here as fast as I could. Actually, I think I was somehow mixed up at birth because Texas has always seemed like home to me. While I embrace most things southern, I draw the line at black-eyed peas and stewed okra. Fried okra I will eat all day long, just the smell of stewed okra makes me gag. Black-eyed peas have the same effect. I eat them under duress, but only on New Year's Day and only after the battle.

According to southern tradition, black-eyed peas are considered good luck. This legend, as I was told goes back to the Civil War when Gen William Tecumseh Sherman spread his scorched earth policy across the south on his march to the sea. He had no remorse about destroying homes, property, livestock and food for thousands of civilians and instead reveled in his power to inflict misery as a way to punish the south.

It's safe to say I have zero respect for the man or his tactics in both the Civil War and later in the Indian Wars. If he were alive today, he would be considered a war criminal rather than hailed as a hero.

So the legend goes, Sherman's troops didn't destroy black-eyed peas, or cowpeas as they are also called, because they thought the peas were fit for nothing but livestock. It was all right to starve families, it appears, but livestock might be spared starvation if they survived the initial slaughter.

If you are in the south, you eat black-eyed peas for good luck as it was certainly good luck during the Civil War and kept families from starving.

When forced, here is how I prepare black-eyed peas.

Soak two cups of black-eyed peas overnight in a crock pot or heavy pan. (If you forget to soak overnight, bring the peas to a boil and then turn off the heat and let them set two hours.) The next morning, drain the peas and add 6-8 cups of good water.

Fry up a pound of bacon until almost crispy and break it into smaller pieces. Fry 1 cup diced onion in the bacon grease.

Add

2 teaspoons granulated garlic
2 teaspoons black pepper
2 teaspoons crushed red pepper
Salt, to taste

Add all to the soaked peas. Bring to boil, then simmer until peas are tender.

Dreams

2010-12-28T12:32:00.005-06:00

This is another December short writing exercise. The topic is "dreams."

Dreams. Everyone has them. A few of them come true. Most don't. Some do and then you wish they hadn't because your dream isn't quite what you hoped it would be.

When I was small, I dreamed of having a horse. My first pony was a little paint Shetland named Bimbo.

As I matured, so did my dreams…a bit. I wanted a family, a house and a horse, preferably on a ranch with a man who adored me. I didn't get the ranch or the adoring man, but I, well he, got horses. Lord, did he get horses. I bought clothes at the Salvation Army and he bought more horses.

Through the years, I also dreamed of being a published writer. Oh, I know a person should be content to write for themself and all that, but publication meant I not only wrote, but wrote well enough to be accepted by professionals and readers alike. It's like wanting to be a cowboy or wanting to be a world champion cowboy. I wanted to be a world champion.

At some point in time, I gave up on part of my dream and moved on, but I still dreamed of writing and having my own house. In an ideal world, it would be a house with a bit of acreage so I could adopt a couple of retired race horses and let them live out their days. I would adopt a couple of retired military dogs and let them live out their days and, of course, I would rescue a few cats from the shelter and…let them live out their days. The house would be big enough so the kids could visit with their families or friends could escape. Big or little, it would be my house and I would…live out my days.

I even had a plan on how to accomplish this. I would go to Afghanistan for a few years and save up all my money. Then I'd buy a house that no one could ever take away from me and I'd write.

I've pretty much given up on Afghanistan. The accident at work, while not serious, is serious enough I can't pass a physical with most companies. Things might turn around, but I doubt it.

I looked at my dream box the other day. I shook it a bit because it felt very light, as if it were empty, but then I heard something rattling around, ever so gently.

I opened it up, and there in a corner, a tiny dream looked back at me with wonder-filled eyes. "I'm still here," she said. "I gave you dragons and warriors. Dancers and bards entertained nobles and traded secrets. Pirates sailed into your heart. Demon lords threatened the world we built together. Cattle barons forged empires and fell in love."

I reached into the box and held my hand out for that tiny dream. She fluttered her wings once and stepped onto my palm. "Do you remember the crystal bridge?" she asked.

I sighed with contentment and longing. "Yes, I loved how Maija escaped across it."

The Devil Wore Blue

2010-12-25T10:47:00.002-06:00

Once again, I am scavenging from history. I can't remember the woman's name nor the Union commander's, nor even where it takes place, but I think it was Louisiana. A company of Union soldiers came to a plantation and demanded the woman surrender it. She met him at the door with a knife and told him she would defend it unto death.

The man was so impressed with her courage that he left the plantation unmolested.

General Benjamin Butler was in charge of the forces in New Orleans. After a local woman insulted him, he passed Order #38. A woman who disrespected any Union soldier was to be treated as a woman plying her trade. Basically, she could be assaulted or arrested. Whether the woman had to be paid for her "services" wasn't clear. He also had a tendency to put "freed" slaves into forced labor. Butler earned the nickname of "Spoons" Butler because he confiscated the silver from any home he stayed in. As a Union general, he had the right to stay where he pleased and apparently liked nicer homes.

Pres. Jefferson Davis put out an order that Butler was to be hanged as a felon if he was captured. Butler was later relieved of duty due to Order #38.

The Devil Wore Blue

"Please, Missus, you can't do this."

The tiny little black woman before her cried, knotting her hands into her apron in fear. Her face was lined and furrowed like a plum collapsing in on itself. Tears caught in the wrinkles and then continued their journey.

"Mam, stop this immediately and help me dress. Jim will get you out of here. Take care of Abby for me and try to get to Twelve Oaks."

The old nanny wiped her face and nodded, but her fingers trembled so badly she could barely button Miriam's dress. Miriam smoothed the butternut gray skirt as if she were getting ready to receive dinner guests and then hid the largest butcher knife she had found in the folds. Her fingers traced out the gold braid she had sewn into elaborate appliqué on the sleeve. Jonathan's eyes welled when she put the dress on she had sewn from the same material as his uniforms. He looked back once and then rode away with his men.

Be brave, she told herself. Make Jonathan proud.

Mam patted Miriam's shoulder when the last button was fastened. "Missus, please come with us. Let them devils have this place."

"Do as I told you and get Abby out of here now. Go through the cane track. Y'all come back later if you can. If not, leave Abby with the Hampsteads and run."

Mam looked out the window. "They're here, Missus."

Miriam hurried down the stairs and kissed her daughter who was playing with a wooden horse beside Jim. "You go with Mam and Jim. They're taking you to see the Hampsteads."

Abby's dark curls bounced when she jumped up. She looked so much like her father. "Can I take them some gingerbread men?"

"Yes--"

Her response was cut off by a man's bellow outside. Abby ran to the window and pulled the velvet drapes aside. "Mama, there's a bunch of men outside."

"I know darling. You go with Mam and Jim now."

Miriam walked out onto the porch to meet fate.

The devil wore blue and rode a great black horse who had probably been quite handsome in better days. Now the gelding was thin and dirty with deep hallows above his closed eyes. His master had a great black beard that covered half his chest. His eyes nearly matched the grimy Yankee uniform, but, like any decent devil, they flashed with fire when he noted the butternut dress.

She pulled the knife from the folds and held it out.

Several of the devil's men pulled their guns in response.

"You will stand down immediately, madam, or I will burn this place down around you!"

"You'll do it over my body," she responded with more confidence than she felt and she raised the knife higher.

"Stand down," he roared again. "My men and I are going to rest here for a few days and you, madam, will not stop me."

"I'll not harbor a Yankee here." She advanced to the edge of the porch, ready to meet him.

Miriam heard Mam's terrified shriek behind her, followed by a streak of yellow topped by long, dark curls. "Abigail, no!"

Miriam ran after her daughter, but the girl was in front of the devil before she could catch her. Abby pulled a gingerbread man from her bundle and held it up to the captain. "Mama and I made these last night."

Miriam heard the guns cock as she grabbed her daughter. The devil's horse opened his weary eyes and took a bite of the cookie. Several of the men laughed.

"Mama, you told me last night about how Mary and Joseph had no place to stay and how tired they were. Are we going to turn these men away on Christmas?"

Miriam clutched her daughter closer and looked up at the captain. "No, darling. Not on Christmas."

The devil took off his hat. "My name is Captain Sherwood. If you'll allow, we'll camp in your woods for a few days and move on."

"No, sir. I haven't enough room for everyone in the house, but the barn is clean and we'll prepare more food. Feed those poor animals and give us your uniforms as you can so we can wash them. Abby's right, no one should be turned away on Christmas."

"Thank you. The barn seems quite appropriate today." She noticed a tear well in his eyes and his shoulders slumped. "You'll not be missing any silver when we leave. I pray someone will give your husband succor today also as you have."

Trees For Maryanne

2010-12-24T12:04:00.001-06:00

I have often felt history is much more fascinating than what writers create. People are remarkable in their strength and courage. They do impossible things. Some times, though, the most courageous events are simply surviving in difficult, if not disastrous, circumstances.

If a person is familiar with old west history, they recognize the name Charlie Goodnight. He was a tough man in a deadly land. Most people don't realize he was also shored up by an equally remarkable, devoutly Christian woman. This story was partially based on her love of the orphan buffalo calves she took in and raised.

December 22, 1862

Trees For Maryanne

Maryanne listened to the familiar scratching and pecking on the wooden floor under her bed. Her friends were awake and ready to start a new day.

She pushed the pile of quilts aside and padded over to the door to open it. "Come on, ladies. Time to go outside and find some bugs." The Rhode Island Red hens fluttered and squawked, when she shooed them from under the bed with a broom. The hens came in each night to sleep under her bed and then returned to the corrals with the break of dawn. She told herself it was to keep the coyotes from killing them off, but deep down she knew the soft clucking and rustling as they settled in for the night was a comfort to her. They helped make the long, lonely nights not quite so solitary, while Jacob was away at war.

Maryanne was forking hay into the corral for her orphan buffalo calves when Bones raised his head and stared at something in the distance. She leaned the pitchfork against the gate and followed the dog’s gaze. There was a rider coming. Not many people came up the canyon by mistake. She could make out the shapes now, but he was still to far away to recognize him. A lone rider leading a packhorse approached at a steady pace. It was probably another cowboy with an orphan buffalo calf. They gathered them up, when they could and brought them to her to raise. Jacob joked they’d have more buffalo than cattle if she didn’t quit adopting the strays.

The rider was close enough to identify now. She recognized the gait of the little bay pacing pony, rather. It was Thomas Goodson from the Rocker B, or at least it was his horse.

"Miz Tabor," Thomas said when he reined up before her. He laughed at the hens scurrying around her. "We brought you those chickens to eat so you’d have a break from antelope and buffalo."
She brushed a blond curl back under her black hat. "Shoot. You know I couldn’t eat the girls. Who would I have to talk to?" She smiled widely at his lopsided grin.

"I reckon you could talk to those buffalo as good as the chickens, ma’am."

"I tried. They don’t speak any English and I don’t speak enough Sioux to carry on a decent conversation. Guess I better keep the girls around."

Thomas laughed. "I reckon that's so. Maybe we ought to find you a rooster too so you can raise a few more." He pulled two covered bundles from the packhorse and dropped them on the ground. "I’ve got a brother in Colorado who said these would do well out here to the best of his knowledge."

"What are they?" she asked, staring down at the lumpy blankets.

He pulled off the covers. "Trees, ma’am. Bob said you were talking about how much you missed having a tree to decorate at Christmas the last time he came to check on you. I asked my brother to find you some trees that might grow out here. He shipped them as far as he could on the train and then the boys relayed them from ranch to ranch until they hit us."

Maryanne sat on the stoop and sipped a cup of coffee in the moonlight. Two tiny candles sat on the ground in front of the pine saplings. Ribbons fluttered softly in the gentle night breeze.

"Trees. Sure wish I had more to give those boys than some bullberry jelly, but Thomas seemed very pleased." She smiled to herself and sighed. "Unbelievable. Trees for me. For surely oh Lord ye shall bless the righteous with favor as a shield. What have I done to deserve such favor, Lord?"

The hens clucked softly under the bed behind her. "Yes, girls, I know. It’s past your bedtime. I’m coming."

She reached down for the candles and returned to the sod house. A smile teased her lips as she watched the ribbons dancing in the moonlight.

"Trees."

The Politician, The Wonder Horse, And Red The Showgirl

2010-12-23T08:51:00.000-06:00

DECFUN5.JMW-WK3

I mentioned something about thinking of a new idea for another story last week and Martin generously suggested “the politician, the showgirl and the wonder horse.” I also needed it to fit in this week’s category so here is my “Red” story.

This one’s for you, Martin. <g>

Martin passed away two years ago in December. He was a prolific and talented writer and entertainer and he was one of my very devout believers and mentors. I will always be grateful to him for his encouragement and help.

Did You Hear The One About The Politician, The Wonder Horse And Red, The Showgirl?

Harley loved December. There was Christmas, and who didn’t like Christmas. The National Finals Rodeo was in December, and what red-blooded westerner didn’t like the Finals. And, lastly, there was all that business at his riding stable.

In addition to the seasonal hayrides, Harley stayed quite busy furnishing horses to men who were trying to win back the affections of their cowboy smitten ladies. It seemed like half the men in town, and Vegas was a big town, were now trying to play cowboy. Harley was doing his part to make their dreams come true with trusty horses who knew the desert trails as well as they knew their feed troughs.

He watched the plume of dust approaching him and hoped it was a lone customer, because he had only one horse left to rent.

He slowly uncrossed his long legs and dropped the front legs of his tilted chair to the wooden porch when the dirt-covered Bronco slid to a halt in front of him. A businessman, no, must be a politician the way he was looking for an audience, stepped from the vehicle. He walked around and opened the door for the most gorgeous redhead Harley had ever seen, and he had seen a lot of them.

“Just let me do the talking, Red,” the politician said. “My great-grandfather was a rancher and I know horses. I’m not going to let him pawn some broke-down haybags off on us.”

“Afternoon,” Harley drawled. He leaned against the post by the steps. Red was sizing him up. He didn’t mind at all. The tight-fitting, sharply creased Wranglers and starched white shirt weren’t what most people expected. It took a little extra effort, but he aimed to please. It didn’t hurt his business either.

“Need to rent two of your best horses for the afternoon,” the politician boomed.

“Don’t have two in right now,” Harley replied.

“I see two out in the corral”

“Yes, sir, but Wonder Horse ain’t for rent. You want to wait a bit, I should have some in shortly.”

Politician thunked across the wooden porch for the fifty-ninth time in twenty minutes as Harley performed rope tricks for his audience. Ching Ching Ching Politician’s new spurs rang louder with each impatient step. He’d have to take the spurs off before Harley let him ride a horse, but he was kind of enjoying watching the man trying to keep the upside down spurs on.

“Let’s go inside and get something cold to drink,” Harley suggested.

The pair followed him inside to the Coke machine and he generously paid for their drinks. “Miss…”

“Lori, my name is Lori, but most people call me—“

“Don’t tell me, let me guess,” Harley interrupted. “Blondie.”

“No,” she laughed and slapped his shoulder playfully. “Most people call me Red. I’ll take a Diet Coke.”

“Senator, you look like a fit man,” Harley said as he handed the man his drink. “I’ll bet you double or nothing the horse rent you can’t jump over my hat. I throw my hat on the floor and if you can jump over it, your rides are free. If you can’t, you pay me double.”

Politician smirked at the rube draped in the chair. “Sure, I’ll take your bet. Maybe we can get our horses at least. One condition, you saddle those two horses out there immediately.”

“Ok,” Harley said and threw his hat on the floor in the corner.

Red held her sides laughing as Politician sputtered it was impossible for anyone to jump over a hat in the corner. Men didn’t much like that joke, but the ladies did and Harley didn’t really care if he impressed the men to begin with.

Politician fidgeted and fumed on Wonder Horse while Harley finished getting Babydoll ready for Red. He placed his hands on Red’s hip pockets and lifted her up as she mounted her horse. He had helped a lot of ladies get on their horses, but he thought dancer bottoms felt the best. Firm, tight, and nicely rounded. Yep, dancers were the best.

“You know, Harley,” Red sighed. “This has to be the perfect job. The horses, outdoors, peace and quiet.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed, still remembering the feel of her hip pockets. “This is about the perfect job for me. I’m too lazy to work and too scared to steal. I like horses, so it all works out pretty good for me.”

“Just one question before I go,” she said. “Why do you call him Wonder Horse? Is he an old trick horse?”

“No, ma’am. Actually, he’s an old rope horse who belongs to a friend. He’s pretty good when he wants to be, but he does like to buck. We always wonder when he’s going to decide to break in two and dump his rider, so we just started calling him Wonder Horse.

“Here,” he said and pulled a single business card from his shirt pocket. “This is a special card. You bring it back and I will give you a free, guided horseback tour of the desert. The moonlight tours are especially pretty.”

“Red, you coming?” Politician shouted.

“Sweet,” she said and winked before she reined her horse around.

There wasn’t anything that made a man appreciate being a man any more than watching a beautiful woman riding a horse. Harley sauntered inside the building and sat down behind his desk. He pulled open the desk drawer and removed a box of business cards with the free desert tour message.

“Hmmmm. Little less than half left. Hope I ordered enough to get me through the month.”

His fingers flipped the card as he thought about his life. “I love December. Love giving things away. Especially these little cards. The perfect gift. One size fits all, perfect color. The gift that keeps on giving.”

Love Keeps Me Warm

2010-12-22T11:11:00.003-06:00

This is a writing exercise based on the phrase “Love Keeps Me Warm.”

Years ago I read a journal written by a Yankee soldier who had been captured by Confederates. He detailed his stay as a prisoner of war in Texas and spoke of the hardships suffered by both the captives and the Rebels keeping them. While there was no mention of a wife or him writing letters to her. I have often thought if he did, this is what he might have written.

Love Keeps Me Warm by Julie Weathers

My Dearest Amelia,

I am remembering our last Christmas together and how I rejoiced when you opened the package with that smart blue dress. It was the color of your beautiful eyes. I would move earth itself to see that look of joy once more.

I do not know if you have received word of my plight. My unit was captured in Louisiana and some of us are now in a prisoner of war camp in Texas. Our camp consists of a deserted farm where we are being held in the barns and corrals. Our previous location was more secure, but unsupplied. Rumors abounded we were to be shot rather than burden the rebs with our keep. I, for one, was overjoyed when the Major Collins ordered us to gather our possessions for a march.

I think the rebs were as happy to leave that place as we were. The major insisted all food be divided equally amongst the prisoners and captors and we have all suffered mightily for the past two weeks. We heard some grumbling about that, but for the most part, his men are faithful hounds who would follow him to the pits of hell and back if he so bade them.

We sank into exhausted slumber as the rebs hustled the woods for victuals upon arrival. I can tell you we all hoorahed when the first man rode in with a fat deer draped across his horse. The cook stumbled upon a well-stocked root cellar and so we had a quite delicious venison stew.

A wild steer strayed too close and he will be the guest of honour at our Christmas supper. The cook even found some dried apples and I can now smell spicy cobbler baking. We know it will most likely be little more than a mouthful, but it will taste like heaven none the less.

Today is Christmas day. The men have fashioned a crude baseball field and are even now playing a rousing game. The rebs against the yanks. That is the way all wars should be fought I think.

I had great plans of presenting you with a new home for Christmas before I was called to war. You will one day have that home, but for now I ask you to content yourself with this meager letter. The major announced he would see to it our letters were posted if we cared to write home for Christmas. A great many here can neither read nor write so we have volunteered to write letters for them. My first customer is a young reb soldier who is waiting patiently by my side as I scrawl this poor message to you.

My love flies to you each night on swift silent wings. Know that each time the sun kisses your cheek it is my lips that caress your soft skin. Listen to the rustle of the leaves. Do you hear me whisper sweet words of love? Sink into your bed each night and be assured that I hold you as closely as the quilt draped across your dear body.

Your love keeps me warm on the cold nights. It beckons me home to your waiting arms. I pray that my love will also warm you on this Christmas day and always.

Your loving husband;

Lt. James Euwell Jackson

Think Green

2010-12-20T09:38:00.000-06:00

Decfun/Green exercise

Warning Martha and Tilly are browsing through Victoria’s Secrets again.

Think Green

Martha and Tilly stared at the notice on the bulletin board. The Old Gray Meres were fund raising again.

Martha peered at the list of suggestions and snorted. “I ain’t wearing those stupid Dutch costumes and making funnels cakes again. I’m tired of squeezing lemons for lemonade. If I have to paint one more face on one more spoiled kid I think I’ll start using permanent markers.”

“You did that last year, remember?”

Martha snickered. “Yep. Didn’t have anyone coming back complaining that their face paint didn’t last long enough though.”

They strolled into the meeting room and grabbed two chairs at the back table. Tilly pulled out her Victoria’s Secret catalogue and her magnifying glass so they could browse through the men’s section. After all, Christmas was just around the corner and it was time to shop for that special something.

Martha stared through her trifocals at the black leather thong her friend had just circled. She tried to imagine Tilly’s husband Bob in the skimpy underwear and regretted it immediately.

Martha stabbed her bony finger at the Greek god of a man in the boxers with a picture of Pinnochio on page 29.

“His nose is missing,” whispered Tilly.

“The man is supposed to supply the nose.”

Tilly stared at the picture for a moment and then giggled. “Ooooh, I get it,” she said and circled the number.

“Unfortunately,” Bernice whined, “we just received a response from the fair board about working the hospitality and lost child booth. They have permanently banned us so we will be working the Santa booth at the mall to raise money. I trust there is no way anyone can mess this up, but we have a contract guaranteeing payment anyway.”

Everyone in the room turned to stare at Martha and Tilly. “What?” Martha snapped. “The kid had a skinned knee. I told him it was a long way from his heart. Get over it.”

Bernice sniffed righteously. “I think their major objection was the terrible stories you told to the children during make-believe time. The kids couldn’t sleep for weeks. I understand two of them are still in counseling.

“I will be posting the shifts we’ll be working from now until Christmas. Santa’s helpers will be wearing green outfits. Green costumes. Green money. Think green.”

Gretta gasped and thunked to the floor when Martha and Tilly walked into the senior center meeting room.

“You two,” Bernice spat. “Your hair is still green.”

“You told us to think green,” Martha replied sweetly.

“I have never been so mortified in my entire life.”

“Did we get paid, Bernice?”

“Well, yes, but that isn’t the point. Where on earth did you two find those, those, those….”

“They’re called thongs,” Martha said as she calmly filed her fingernail.

Tilly held up her dog-eared copy of Victoria’s Secrets. “They have more of those cute little green elf outfits in here for only $39.99 if anyone else wants one.”

A still wobbly Gretta gawked at the catalogue in Tilly’s hand.

“Someone ought to watch Gretta. She’s looking a little green,” said Martha.

Scarlet

2010-12-19T10:23:00.006-06:00

I've belonged to a writing group for years. In July and December, the writing exercises are "shorts" consisting of stories 500 words or less. The mod puts up a list of topics and it's up to the members to build a story around it. Typically, the topics are very short, often just one word.
This was my "scarlet" exercise. Since I am a Civil War buff, I always include a Civil War story in the exercises.

My Darling Emily,

It will soon be Christmas and my thoughts fly north on the wings of an angel to be with you. It is bitterly cold today and we are still trapped on the side of this mountain. Our supply train was captured three days ago and we have been reduced to a few morsels of jerked beef and hardtack. We have snow for moisture and gather it up to melt for coffee when we are able to have a fire.

How I have dreamed of your famous Christmas dinners. I visited you last night in a vision and supped at your bountiful table and, my dear, on your beauty. There you were in your green silk gown at the head of the table. Pearls glowed at your throat and throughout your splendid honey colored hair. I laughed as you smoothed the tiny curls at the nape of your neck back into the confines of the silk net, just as you always do. They never stay. Scented candles flickered amongst the pine boughs and flowing red ribbons on the table. Stuffed turkey, suckling pig, turnips, squash, mashed potatoes, onions in cream, mincemeat pie, pumpkin pie, peppermint cakes were all laid out to perfection on your mother’s crocheted table cloth. I could think of no better way to celebrate the blessed season except mayhaps to lie in your arms forever. To hold you close and know that we might never be parted again.

And then I awoke to the misery which has befallen our company. We have been on short rations for weeks but were shored up by the cheery thought that a supply train would arrive before Christmas. Now, that hope has been dashed and the johnny rebs will feast on the victuals we so desperately needed. I know that they are in no better condition than we but my heart cried out in anguish to know we would not be refreshed as we had hoped.

Captain Morgan allowed us to kill and butcher Charlemagne. That gallant horse has carried him every step of the way during this mighty conflict. The horse was wounded in our attempted retreat off this mountain and continued to worsen even though treated by the company doctor. Morgan refused to touch a morsel of the stew although he hadn’t eaten a hot meal in weeks. I cried at the sight of Charlemagne lying there but my grateful stomach dried the tears.

The pines here are lovely. You would appreciate the beauty as much as I do. I have imagined us going out to cut one and then decorating it with bunches of scarlet ribbons. I can almost see them fluttering in the breeze here on this wooded slope. Do you feel my love? Even now it reaches out to you, caressing you and whispering softly in your ear. I shall never leave you.

A sentinel shot a young reb last night just at dusk. The boy happened upon us quite by accident and fled in panic. Our sentinel was of the same age, not even old enough to shave and was equally as terrified at the sight of the butternut uniform and the reb was of us. He shot the boy in the back as he ran. He escaped us but I fear he was mortally wounded. Captain Morgan had hoped for a yuletide truce. We now start and quake at every noise wondering if that is the beginning of another charge. I would

He heard the pop. The pen slipped from his numb fingers as he thudded into the snow. His eyes stared at the trees before him and the scarlet ribbons streaking the pristine white ground. Scarlet ribbons. Pine trees. He was home for Christmas.

Santa Was A Cowboy

2010-12-17T10:23:00.000-06:00

This is an old Christmas story I posted a few years ago, but I've been thinking about Christmases past and thought of this one.

I’ve been thinking a lot about people lately.

I’m basically a happy person. I look for the best in people and I can usually find something to laugh about. Even though I like to believe the best in people, life has taught me that will often cause great heartache. I can accept that when it happens to me. When people hurt my children, I go insane.

Twenty years ago, we were trying to recover from the oil bust, much like the one we are about to experience. We lost our vehicles, our hot shot company, the horses, the real estate company and our house. The house we sold to keep the real estate company going, but it was still gone.

We moved out to a little village thirteen miles from town. I took in ironing, cleaned houses for people and baked bread for several people while Don drove truck long haul.

My mother had been down here and bought a trailer house from a man who was going to let her make the payments to him and he would make the payments to the loan company since she had no credit. She decided to move back north, so we took up that payments on the land and the trailer.

The man we were buying the trailer from called me the first week in December and told me I should contact the loan company and get the trailer put in my name. I asked him if there was a problem since I had already sent the check for the December payment. Yes, he had the check, but it might be best if we try to get the trailer in our name. I told him I would check into it, but I couldn’t do anything until after Christmas.

I had saved up enough money to put deposits on some new bullropes for the two older boys. The rodeo coach at the junior college plaited custom ropes for professional bull riders and offered to make some for the boys for $75 each. That was a lot of ironing and house cleaning, but it’s what the boys wanted for Christmas more than anything, so I was going to make it happen. I also bought a few toys and clothes, but it was pretty slim pickings that year and I still didn't have the extra groceries to do my holiday baking and candy making. If I timed everything just right, I would be able to buy the stuff for Christmas dinner with the check that would arrive just before Christmas.

I got a call from a finance company on December 13. They wanted to know if I was going to put the trailer in my name and when would I be able to make the past due payments totaling $2,350 plus some other fees that would bring it to a little over $2,500.

I was speechless. I don’t cry much, but I did then. I dug out my receipt box as if holding the receipts in my hand for every money order I had sent for the payment would show him I wasn’t behind on my payments. I just made a payment two weeks ago.

He was very understanding, but the man hadn't sent them a payment for six month, so we had to come up with the $2,500 by December 20 or they would have a truck there to pick up the trailer on the 23rd.

“Are you serious? You’re going to kick me and my kids out of a house I have paid for faithfully two days before Christmas?”

He was very apologetic, but he had no choice.

Don called from California and I was a complete basket case. I had three boys, a pony, some ducks and several dogs and would be without a house in a little over a week.

He called his family to borrow some money and got an advance on his check. I borrowed money from my family. I called a breeder in Oklahoma and offered to sell them some dogs they had been wanting for a long time and made a deal to give them three other bitches in the deal. One of them was a dog who had produced three quadruple working champions and there were only seven champions in the country.

I pawned what little we had left of value and I was still short. A friend’s mother offered to let me work some extra hours in the flower shop for more money. I got some extra orders for bread. At the end, I could come up with the rest of the money if I used the grocery money and took back the gifts I bought the boys.

There would be no Christmas, but we had a roof over our heads. When all the dust settled I had $20 left and the only reason I had that was because I had been walking around the little town to clean houses to save gas.

I told the boys we could either buy a Christmas tree, buy some little gifts or go to the rodeo. Rodeo tickets had been high on their wish lists for Christmas.

They wanted rodeo tickets.

I bundled them up and we went to town. As fate would have it, I got in line behind a bunch of drunks in their new cowboy costumes. New hats, new boots, new jeans and whoopy-ti-yi cowboy shirts. The guy at the front of the bunch was taking his friends to the rodeo. Not only was he taking them to the rodeo, but he wanted the best seats in the house.

“I love to see them cowboys gets their asses stomped in the ground by those bulls.”

My boys were shocked someone wanted to see a cowboy get hurt.

I was sure I recognized Mouth’s voice, but I couldn’t believe it.

He turned around and stopped dead still in his tirade when he recognized me.

The idiot I was buying the trailer from. I hadn’t talked to him often and I’d only seen him once, but it was him. The scum who had stolen my boys’ Christmas. It was all I could do to keep from attacking him. Had I been alone, instead of with the three boys, including a baby, I probably would have. Instead, I kept my mouth shut and ignored him. Throwing a fit would accomplish nothing.

A woman opened up another window and called me up.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll take three of the cheapest seats you have.”

Mouth had noticeably quieted down.

The boys were remarkably understanding, as they always were. They had their rodeo tickets and that was the important thing. They asked if we could get a Coke. I had enough money left to get one and let them split it.

I’ve always tried not to cry in front of the boys, but it was danged hard that day. I had to keep reminding myself to keep the hate from my heart. That was harder.

I had already called and canceled the bullropes. I told Jim I would finish paying for them for their birthdays in March.

I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about Christmas dinner. I had a pound of hamburger meat, macaroni, one can of tomato sauce and some cranberry sauce. Meatloaf and macaroni with tomato sauce.

Lord, I know you’re going to take care of us. Just keep the hatred from my heart and take care of my babies.

It was just about dark when we got home and I thought a man was standing on the porch when I first pulled in. We got out and realized it was a Christmas tree. It was kind of a scrawny little tree, but it was a tree. Not only was there a tree, but it had ornaments on it. There were some little gifts under the tree and on the porch were several bags of groceries. I think the kids were as excited about all the food as anything.

The lady at the flower shop had a tree left over from the ones she used to cut up for greenery. She also hung a few ornaments on it and sent two boxes of lights. We lost most of our Christmas decorations when a storm took the top off our storage building, but I still had the little terra cotta cherubs that I had painted. I didn’t usually do tinsel, but there were boxes of tinsel and the boys had a ball hanging it just right. Of course, Cody’s just right and Brandon’s just right were just opposite. Cody threw the tinsel at the tree, the more the better. Brandon carefully hung each strand to make sure it was even.

We baked cookies that night and watched our beautiful little tree twinkling merrily at us.

I was still upset about not being able to buy gifts, but we would have a nice meal and the boys had their rodeo tickets.

I got a few more odd jobs before Christmas, so I went to Salvation Army and bought the newest pants I could find. They would have a few more gifts under the tree.

Christmas morning was here at last. I got breakfast ready and went out to feed animals before we opened packages.

Something was propped against the door when I opened it. Two round packages addressed to Brandon and Cody and both of them from Santa.

Santa was a cowboy and he knew the boys wanted bullropes for Christmas.

Please Remember Our Troops

2010-12-13T18:47:00.006-06:00

Christmas will be here soon. Sooner than most of us wish. For most of us, we will spend the day with family and friends. We'll eat too much and perhaps drink too much wine. We'll watch old classics and tear up even though we've seen those corny old movies a dozen times.

Many Americans, however, will be spending yet another holiday away from loved ones. They'll be in places where sand storms turn the day to dark in a matter of minutes. They'll be cold, because it's that time of year, but they'll still get out and walk their patrols, wondering if today is the day. They won't get the day or weekend or week off because there is no day off in war. If they're lucky, they'll be at a base where they have hot food. Many aren't that lucky.

If you haven't sent anything to a soldier, it's not too late.

If you're looking for a really good New Year's Eve resolution, it's not too late. Our troops need to be remembered every day, not just on Memorial Day and Christmas.

It doesn't take much to make them happy.

If you are so inclined, I've included a few sites that are very worthwhile organizations to contact soldiers. There are others where you can just send a donation if you don't have the time to make a commitment. Anything you do to help is greatly appreciated. Regardless of how you feel about politics, these people volunteered to serve our country.

Please remember them. They remembered us.

Merry Christmas from Afghanistan sung by one of our soldiers.

Christmas parade in Afghanistan

So This is Christmas.

Tell Them Thanks.

I like this organization because you can adopt a soldier you know has requested to be contacted. They send in a needs list so you don't have to wonder. There are a lot of female soldiers also so, if you don't feel comfortable writing to a man, you have that option.

Books For Soldiers.

This is a little known charity, but what a great one to get involved with for the writing community. Everyone thinks that war is just one bomb after another, but there are a lot of times when guys and gals are shut down with nothing to do. Books are a wonderful gift and it that's a gift that keeps on giving as they get passed from soldier to solder.

Remember all the women over there. They like a little romance in their lives also. What a great cause for all our romance writers to support.

Hero Boxes.

If you'd like to help, but you just don't have the time to write or send out care boxes, this organization will do it for you. Just donate to them and their volunteers will handle the rest.

Soldiers Angels

I linked to the Blankets of Belief page, but please take time to look at the home page. If you have any desire, there's a place for you. You're a knitter or crocheter? We need you. Soldiers have sleeping bags, but they are narrow and often aren't long enough for the tall men. You'd think blankets would be common sense, but it apparently isn't. This is winter time, it's as cold there as some of our coldest states. Many of the soldiers are in tents with no heat in sub zero weather.

Even if you just want to write a letter or donate, your donation of time, gifts or money all goes to a great cause.

This is a picture from Soldiers' Angels of their Christmas tree program.

A Salute To MMRPG Writers and WoW Cataclysm Hotfixes

2010-12-09T16:14:00.002-06:00

World of Warcraft art.

All right, I'm going to make a confession. I'm intrigued by mmrpg (massive multi-player role playing games) such as World of Warcraft, EverQuest and Dark Age of Camelot.

I mean, seriously, you have to love this stuff and the efforts they put into these games as evidenced by the Cataclysm trailer.

I wish I had more time to play, but they still amuse me.

I love the worlds these developers create. I love the art and the writing. Some of them have intricate, spell-binding stories. I adore learning about the rich lore and history of these worlds. I particularly enjoy exploring these worlds with fellow role players. It's like living an epic fantasy novel.

In WoW, for instance, two of the players I run with are gnomes. One is a tough little pink-haired female warrior gnome. She always acts so sweet and innocent. The other is a little guy my guild got stuck with so we could rehabilitate him. He's always getting in trouble and trying to convince Bebus is really evil and she's threatening to hurt his kitty Lionheart. No one believes, him, of course. Bebus is just too sweet. Oddly enough, she does brandish a sword called Lionheart Slayer or something like that at him. Not sure what's up with that. Could it be Bebus really is kind of evil? NO!

When we're fighting creatures and something dies, Twobits invariably says, "I think it was the pink that killed it."

Then there is Mikafar. She's my character's self-appointed chastity cat. Yeah, it's a long story. Suffice to say, my character has never had a boyfriend.

Anyway, creative people like this just absolutely prime my pump for writing.

So, World of Warcraft just brought out a new expansion, Cataclysm. Every time an expansion launches there are myriad problems and the developers have to do fixes to the game to correct them. There are also things changing that characters raise Cain about so they have to explain what's going on in "hotfix notes."

You wouldn't think notes from tech support about what's happening in a game would be entertaining. Fortunately, most of these games have writers with great senses of humor.

For instance:

Corla will now always drop an item and the Red Winter Hat does not replace her regular loot drop. It's because she cares.

Liam has been given lessons in anger management and team work. He will now properly stay with his soldiers during "The Battle for Gilneas City" event. (Apparently this game character was leaving his soldiers in the heat of battle when he wasn't supposed to.)

Both the Rope Ladder and Last Chance Yacht Boarding Mortar objects will now sparkle while on the quest "Life Savings". Now with more sparkles!

Players in a party on the quest "Black Heart of Flame” are all now able to loot the Black Heart of Thol'embaar after killing Thol’embaar, because it's only fair.

Players no longer get attacked by guards when landing in Nordrassil with a hostile player targeted. It was a rather rude introduction to Mount Hyjal really.

Bloodsnarl Scavengers killed by players with the aid of Salhet's Lions during the quest "Salhet the Tactician" will not provide experience. If you want something done, sometimes you just have to do it yourself.

Players will now be in the correct phase with Wavespeaker Valoren after completing the quest "Communing with the Ancient". Seeing ghost question marks on the mini-map is no fun for anyone.

Smuggler's Scar now has two guard posts, up from one, and Deepmist Grotto has one guard post, up from none. In addition, Cavern Crawlers are now immune to crowd control effects. Even ganking should have its limits.

Players are no longer able to retain the 450% swim speed increase from the Abyssal Seahorse through devious, devious means. (Oops. It's amazing how quickly players figure out ways to "use" the system.)

Players of the opposite faction can no longer kill the lures for the Seahorses. It's just mean and wrong. And mean.

The Corroded Key that is obtained during the quest "Kliklak's Craw" is now a multi-drop item and can be looted my multiple members of a party. And there was much rejoicing.

It is no longer possible for an ill-mannered person of the opposing faction to one-shot a flight trainer in Stormwind or Orgrimmar, which in turn made the 500 players standing on top of the flight trainer with their mammoths really sad.

There is no longer a School of Fish in Elwynn Forest that like to think of themselves as in "testing," nor do they yield Peacebloom when fished. This School of Fish is no longer a part of the counterculture and will no longer give you flowers when fished.

Players can no longer skin Crushcog Sentry-Bots or Crushcog Battle Suits in Dun Morogh... because they don’t have skin.

Crafty players again found a way to catch Cataclysm fish. Crafty designers have made this impossible without a Cataclysm key attached to a player’s account.

The Series Arc, Openings and Query Sharking

2010-12-04T19:12:00.000-06:00

Yes, I'm still revising, but it's catch the things that no longer make sense because something was changed or a typo. Oh, and I'm cutting words again. Who would have guessed?

I have a handful of friends who are at the query stage now, which means a few things. Write the durned query letter. Write the synopsis. Write the outline if the book has series potential… Wait. What?

Yes, I learned last night in an #askagent a person should know what the rest of the arc is.

Oops.

I know what the ultimate end is. I've already written it. I've even written some scenes in between because they popped into my head so vividly I wanted to write them before I lost them. Plus, I have those 50,000 words I cut and several of those scenes are still viable. I just don't know quite how things go together now because FAR RIDER has changed so much, what I first envisioned for the middle doesn't quite fit now.

This, my children, is why you don't write all twelve books in your series before you query. If you have to make a bunch of changes, those other eleven books may not work.

Now, I have a friend who has other volumes done, but it's more that the first book is too long to have complete. It had to be divided. I'm not really concerned about her, because this story holds together very well and I would be astounded if anything major were changed.

Aside from the obvious things, we've pondered openings.

I'm concerned there isn't enough tension in mine. Another friend second guessed herself and removed a part the requesting agent (Don Maass, you know the agent who is no longer active) thought needed to stay. The original opening is a fun opening as well as being a "what the heck!" opening. A third friend is concerned her opening is the dreaded "dream" opening. It's actually a psychic vision and it's what kicks the whole story into gear for the MC. It's a James Bond kind of opening and it's very well done. I don't really know how else she would start it.

The conversation this morning was with the female James Bond paranormal author. We went past the opening discussion and moved on to agent matches. I know everyone thinks they know who their dream agent is.

For one group member, I do think there is a perfect match for her. There is something about what she writes and what he reps that has always seemed perfect. Plus, from what I can tell reading about the agent, I think their personalities would be a good match.

For the rest of us, we know who we would like to appeal to, but if dream author doesn't click with dream agent, we all know what happens.

For myself, I really don't need my hand held. I have my writing group for when I want to kick and scream about how unfair life is. Luckily, I don't do that often or I would probably have to walk the plank. Our group is pretty professional and laid back. No drama queens and divas allowed.

I need an agent who believes in my work with all their heart. I need an agent who will tell me when I need to stretch and improve even if it yanks my guts out. I need an agent who has a vision for my career and will help me plan accordingly. I need an agent who knows what's going on and is a barracuda. I'm opinionated on some things, but I'm not really a fighter. I despise it. I despise screaming people.

That brings us to another thing we discussed this morning. Screaming agent. Years ago, a woman who had been published made a comment on a writer's forum about her agent. She said she was terrified of him. I asked why the heck she was with an agent who terrified her. I mean terrify to the point the woman became physically ill when he called or emailed her. He, apparently, was a screamer and the author was a rather retiring lady. Perhaps he didn't know the effect he had on her or perhaps he thought that brought out the best in her. Perhaps, as they say in the scholarly circles, he was a dickimus maximus.

I asked why she stayed with him.

"Because he said yes and he sold my book. I'm afraid no one else would rep me."

Oh, no. That would never be me. I may not like fighting, but I like being a punching bag for someone's ego even worse.

So, JB (female James Bond paranormal author) and I agreed chemistry between the agent and author is a good thing. Actually, JB's book has a female James Bond who is paranormally linked to the MC who would be the equivalent to the Bond girl except her romantic interest is with another psychically linked guy character. Female James Bond is a good description of her book.

We also discussed queries and the conversation went to Janet Reid's Query Shark.

In case you haven't read it, you should. People send in queries and she dissects them and tells them what all they are doing wrong. If something clicks, she also does a, "Yes! This is how you do it!!!!" She probably uses fewer exclamation points.

I amble over there frequently, because, let's face it, querying is here to stay.

I read the ones she's dissected and I also like going to the "Queries that made it to yes" section. These are the ones that got to the point an agent would request.

I took a query workshop a while back and it was pretty much a waste of money, I think. The end product isn't very compelling. I think the one I sent to a workshop in Surrey is better, but the story has changed now.

JB and I were discussing queries in the "yes" section and I pointed out one that I thought had a similar appeal to her book. Then we discussed why that query worked. How could we pick apart JB's female spy paranormal (FSP) and apply the Query Shark lessons? What are the details that will push FSP to the top of the slush pile? The pages are delicious if we can get the query to the point the agent will read on. Therein lies the problem for most of us.

Still, I believe this is an invaluable tool for writers. It's especially interesting if the people have gone through revisions to get to yes. You then understand most perfect query letter writers are not born. They are borne on a sea of persistence.

On the flip side, going to the queries that didn't work is good because you see what not to do.

So, if a person can apply the lessons, Query Sharking is kind of like a mini workshop.

It's just so danged hard to pick out those points and apply them. We decided it might be better if we just swap manuscripts and write queries for each other.

Maybe not.

Everything you wanted to know about queries, epubbing, agents, platform for fiction writers, Italics, and Don Maass according to twitter.

2010-12-01T12:03:00.001-06:00

Hello, my name is Julie and I twitter. I have five strings of people I follow; publishing, news/political, military, ranchers/cowy people, and just interesting people.

A few days ago, and agent said, "if you begin your query letter with anything other than a description of your book, you're wasting words." Not long before that, an agent said to put that information at the top of the query.

I responded back to the first person. "See, this is what drives writers crazier. ; )"

In truth, as with anything query related, look at the person's blog and website and note what their personal preferences are regarding submissions. On little things like this, there aren't any right or wrong ways, just personal preferences.

I was going to narrate the jist of the conversation that ensued and I decided to just ask the people involved for their permission to blog the conversation so nothing was taken out of context. For those of you not familiar with twitter, the first person mentioned is the speaker. The next person is the one they are responding to and any others are being included in the conversation.

Here is the cast of characters.

@AmpERobert: of epublisher, Ampichellis Books.

@Kristen_Howe who is a suspense writer

@Patrick_Alan made a cameo appearance and since he's cuter than a speckled pup and takes female harassing well, I've included him.

Then there's me and my Coors Light.

@AmpERobert: @Julie_Weathers When an author writes an agent the why part is obvious so leave that out. It's the what part agents are interested in.

Me: @AmpERobert True, but many agents say they like the personalized aspect of the query letter

@AmpERobert: ..what have you written?? (it's description) fiction, non-fict, genre, word length and a one sentence hook right up front. .

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers Best queries follow a business letter format, or introduction, body, conclusion...<more>

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers <continued> Into = Why you're writing. Seeing the agent already knows, skip to the description of project..

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers The body should contain the novel overview, they one paragraph jacket blurb that you hate to write.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers Conclusion. An overview, your author qualification--what you've published, etc.

@Kristen_Howe: @AmpERobert @Julie_Weathers That sounds like what I've been doing for queries. At least I'm doing something right.

Me: @AmpERobert Thank you, I appreciate your input. Yes, I hate to write that jacket blurb.

@Kristen_Howe: @AmpERobert @Julie_Weathers Tell me about it. I prefer that blurb than a 2-page synopsis. LOL

Me: @AmpERobert @Kristen_Howe I was a staff writer for a horse racing mag for 17 years. That doesn't translate well to epic fantasy credentials

@Kristen_Howe: @AmpERobert @Julie_Weathers I wish my publication credits included short stories. But it's just nonfiction and poetry. Small potatoes.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers Used to be the only authors who needed a platform were non-fic authors. Not so anymore.

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert I know wht U mean. ive no expertise, haven't entered in any contests, joined no organizations yet, etc. :-(

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert I don't know about agents, but belonging to an organization doesn't impress me.

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert So to say you belong to RWA or ITW isn't good?

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert I'm sure it means something to someone, but not me unless membership involves more than paying dues.

@AmpERobert: @Julie_Weathers @Kristen_Howe. I'm not advocating joining writer's groups, however, there are huge networking opportunities

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert That's true. I can't afford to join one right now. But maybe next year. It's hard to "sell" oneself via query.

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert It is, but it's still the truest way and there is a lot more help now than there used to be.

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert That's true with crit partners/groups, websites and books and magazines and professional writer friends. AMEN.

@Kristen_Howe: @AmpERobert So true. And still, it's so hard, since the publishing word is changing. @Julie_Weathers

Me: @AmpERobert @Kristen_Howe I've seen this discussion before. How does a fiction author establish a platform?

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert I belong to an excellent writer's group, but it's private so it wouldn't do much to promote me.

@AmpERobert: @Julie_Weathers @Kristen_Howe ...when one belongs to groups who write what you write with memberships in the thousands--RWA, MWA SCUBI

@AmpERobert: @Julie_Weathers A platform is simply a documented group of potential readers who might buy your book if it's published. Do U know thousands?

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert No, I know tens of people. Thousands know me, but the horse racing crowd won't cross over to epic fantasy.

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert O I get it now Julie. U do make a valid point. Not unless U make an epic fantasy that deals w/ horse racing.

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert I draw heavily on my horse experience, but that just makes the details better. It won't attract readers.

@AmpERobert : @Julie_Weathers @Kristin_Howe I guess all who write need to ask is themselves is what do celebrities have that I don't? Do you know?

Me: @AmpERobert They have a following who admire them for something they do well.

@AmpERobert: @julie_Weathers @Kristen_Howe Name recognition is what gives celebrities their huge edge over you and I. Platform = name recognition

@AmpERobert: @julie_Weathers @Kristen_Howe Huge platform = worldwide name recognition. Would you consider having a million followers on Twitter platform?

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert No. I know people who collect twitter followers like it's a game. I don't crave numbers.

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert It's not a game to me. I just enjoying having supportive Twiends on Twitter and even on Facebook.

@AmpERobert: @Julie_Weathers However, these celebrities get book 7 figure book deals because they have a name only. Platform gives them that edge.

Me: @AmpERobert @Kristen_Howe I have the blog and website. I'm concentrating on turning out an intriguing book now.

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert I just have 2 blogs. Good luck Julie. I hope to read it someday. Yeah, I agree.

@Kristin_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert Good question. It reminds me of a brand too.

@AmpERobert: @Julie_Weathers @Kristen_Howe Can you understand now that just writing isn't important to an agent or a publisher? Return on investment is.

@Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert I think they also have to be able to produce, don't you?

@Julie_Weathers No!! If you have the potential to reach a million readers, you can always hire someone to write the book for you.

@Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert I'm sorry, but what good does it do to be a writer if I don't write?

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert I just use mine (blog) for updates on my writing, editing and querying process. And maybe someday, publishing.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers Multi-national corporations MUST make a profit to stay in business. Investors don't care if it's art of not.

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert I understand that, but it's hoped my product will make a profit. I need a product before I have a name.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers Investors only care that they are making a return on investment. Publishers who pay 7 figures for books are

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers Multi-National corporations, Random House, for instance is a multi-national corporation, must make profits.

@AmpERobert: @Juli_Weathers @Kristen_Howe. Platform is important because platform is some assurance an audience exists before $ are invested.

@AmpERobert: @Julie_Weathers No, Julie. You need a name before you have an assured salable product. How many readers know you?

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert Unless you are a celebrity like Snookie whateverhernameis, I don't think anyone can be assured anything.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe Unless you are a celebrity like Snookie whateverhernameis, I don't think anyone can be assured anything. U are now getting it.

Me: @AmpERobert @Kristen_Howe I am not a celebrity. I'm a writer. I don't mind promoting my book, but I do need a published book to promote.

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert You made good points Julie.

@Kristen_Howe: @AmpERobert @Julie_Weathers I'm not a celebrity either. But U're rt--you need an agent &/or publisher 2 get yr book in the bookshelves.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe@Julie_Weathers When U go into a bookstore, do you roam the stacks to find a book or do you already know the author's name?

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert I'm a browser

@AmpERobert: @Julie_Weather @Kristen_Howe Think about it this way. In B & N there R 80,000 books, what are the odds someone will randomly find Your book?

@AmpERobert: @Julie_Weather @Kristen_Howe Aren't the odds 80,000 to 1 that someone might randomly find your book. As a publisher, would U want those odds

(I didn't see this initially because my name was spelled wrong. However, I would have responded that I am usually smart enough to know what I'm interested in, so I can narrow it down to a few hundred books at most. I don't look for non-fiction books on castle architecture in the Christian section.)

@Kristen_Howe: @AmpERobert @Julie_Weathers I'm not sure on what my odds are. I hope the odds are better to being a best-seller and sell lots of copies.

@Kristen_Howe: @AmpERobert I'm trying to understand a little bit better. Still new to this business.

Me: @AmpERobert @Kristen_Howe Don Maass isn't excited about writer's blogs and websites because too many use them to scratch the itch to write.

@AmpERobert: @Julie_Weathers @Kristen_Howe. Don Maass is not going to take anyone on unless he can make a buck from their work. No platform, no Don

@Kristen_Howe: @AmpERobert @Julie_Weathers I've tried to get Jen Jackson from Donald Maass in September as an agent--she passed.

Me: @AmpERobert Actually, he is talking to two of my friends who have no platforms yet. They just have very good books.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers I'm not sure you actually need an agent unless you have something Major pubs might be interested in.

Me: @AmpERobert I do need and want an agent and I believe I have something a major publisher might take.

@Kristen_Howe: @AmpERobert @Julie_Weathers Chances are, you do. A lot of pubs won't take submissions without an agent. Only some do open ones without them.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers These days lack of platform is the reason that 99 % of first time authors don't receive generous advances

@AmpERobert: @Julie_Weathers He might be taking them on but that doesn't mean they will be published or if they are, it won't be big time.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe Jen Jackson runs Don Maass Literary. I don't think Don is that active anymore. Don't know for sure tho.

(For an agent who isn't active, he's reading a lot of fulls and sending out revision letters. Or maybe I just belong to a really talented writing group.)

@Kristen_Howe: @AmpERobert Oh wow that's interesting.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers I know all this sounds discouraging, however, there are ways to get books published and build an audience

@Kristen_Howe: @AmpERobert @Julie_Weathers I'm all ears. I know about self-publishing and ebooks though. It's not far from my mind though.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers I would never suggest print self-publishing to anyone--too risky. Epublishing, if done correctly, has merit.

@Kristen_Howe: @AmpERobert @Julie_Weathers OK I've heard about small pub and POD too. But I'm going to do traditional first. I'll keep writing though.

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert I'm not in the least bit discouraged, nor am I delusional. I just believe I will be published.

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers So do I Julie. Someday. Maybe in 2011-2012. Way to go!

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert I'm w/ U Julie. We'll fight 2 get an agent who'll auction our book 2 a publisher. I believe that's how it works.

(I don't actually think many go to auction, but I missed this comment initially and I'm not an agent so I don't know.)

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert Two editors asked for the book. It's a start.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers One of them is to start small and build one.as Julie said, having a book out there is key.

@Kristen_Howe: @AmpERobert @Julie_Weathers That's what I'm trying to do with my queries. I'm not giving up. My book or Julie's? Or both?

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers Might I ask what it is? I might be able to offer suggestions or something.

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert "Might I ask what it is?" What are you referring to?

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert I think he meant your book and the 2 editors.

@Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert Ah, which publishers? Editors from TOR and Del Rey, though the Del Rey editor has left.

@AmpERobert: @Julie_Weathers isn't TOR in financial trouble? Thought they were. Del Rey would be best but Big Publisher, agent only submissions.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers If print is all an author will consider, in my opinion they are limiting their potential. For instance.

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert You think? I agree. We'll keep trying. As @christinadodd said, "keep walking."

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers To find an agent might take a year, for the agent to find a publisher might take another year,

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers To get a book out from a publisher, takes another year--potentially 3 years wasted.

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert Agreed. I understand it isn't an overnight process. (Of course, I, as the eternal optimist, would be working on other books while I was wasting these three years.)

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert I agree it's time consuming, but I think I will get an agent and the agent will know the best way to present it.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers To find an ebook publisher might take awhile depending on the project of course, the book comes out in months.

@Kristen_Howe: @AmpERobert @Julie_Weathers Well at least the wait for that isn't too long. It's an option to consider.

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert I don't believe it has to be either or.

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert Agreed. I understand it isn't an overnight process.

Me: @AmpERobert @Kristen_Howe The point is, editors have already requested the manuscript so I think I'm not totally off the mark.

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert I spoke to these editors at conferences. They read the first ten pages and asked me to submit. It's no guarantee.

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert But the door is cracked open to hope.

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert I think that's terrific Julie that they showed interest. It's a stepping stone. I'll cross my fingers for you.

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert gd 4 U. I'm doing the same, even when I entered in2 Deirde's contest 2day. I'll stay focused & positive.

Me: @Kristen_Howe I'm in the middle of revisions based on an agent revision letter. I owe my first allegiance to that agent. @AmpERobert

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers Do either of you know that you can self-publish free on Amazon and B and N? Just wondering.

@Kristen_Howe: @AmpERobert @Julie_Weathers I've heard about Createspace from some people. I rather not self-publish either.

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert Yes, and no thanks.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers Yes, I know. Like most authors I talk 2 these days U have 2 have a book in your hand. Oh well, what can I say.

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert That isn't the point. The point is, no offense, many of the self-pubbed books are not very good.

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert If I had an agent who said epub was the way to go, then go for it. I haven't heard that yet.

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert For now, it's just finish these revisions and send back to agent and take the next step.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers Think you'll find that the publishing atmosphere is not what it was even a year ago. Huge loses on fiction.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe @Julie_Weathers Major bookstores in trouble, book sales down, large returns 2 publisher, many agents & editors leaving the biz

@Kristen_Howe: @AmpERobert @Julie_Weathers I know that abt a year ago, I lost my local B&N, perhaps due 2 the epub business. I know Borders was in trouble.

Me: @AmpERobert @Kristen_Howe You're a very positive person. If I weren't drinking, I might get depressed.

@AmpERobert: @Julie_Weathers I think the word is candid and yes, I've been accused of being too truthful (candid) at times.

Me: @AmpERobert I have no problem with truth, thank heavens. My critters are pretty blunt with their comments.

Me: @AmpERobert @Kristen_Howe Do y'all mind if I blog about this conversation?

@AmpERobert: @Julie_Weathers Not at all. Please do. In fact there's a huge amount of material you can use as reference at

Wylie-Merrick Literary Agency

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert Go for it Julie. I don't mind. It's interesting.

@Patrick_Alan: Make sure you include me! RT @Julie_Weathers: @AmpERobert @Kristen_Howe Do y'all mind if I blog about this conversation?

Me: @Patrick_Alan Oh, sweet cheeks. I include you in everything. My you were interesting last night in that dream. @AmpERobert @Kristen_Howe

@AmpERobert: @Julie_Weathers You're a very positive person. If I weren't drinking, I might get depressed. I'm much less positive when I'm drinking LOL

Me: @AmpERobert Naw, I'm a pretty optimistic person most of the time. I didn't start out my day picking up body parts, so it's a good day.

Me: @AmpERobert Ah, @AgentRobert's agency.

Me: @AmpERobert Out of curiosity, why don't you want underlines in your submissions? @Kristen_Howe

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert Underlines? You mean for italics? I'm lost here. :-?

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert I'm doing revisions, since I thought it wasn't ready, & have gotten not much luck, (other than 6 bites 4 it).

Me: @Kristen_Howe If he/she rejects it finally, I will look elsewhere. @AmpERobert

@Kristen_Howe: @Julie_Weathers @AmpERobert That's how you should do it Julie. If you get a pass or no response, move on and send out "revenge queries."

Me: @Kristen_Howe If he/she rejects it finally, I will look elsewhere

Me: @AmpERobert @Kristen_Howe Ah, if this agent passes it will be because the agent doesn't think it's right. That's just the way it works.

@AmpERobert: @Julie_Weathers Underlining, italicizing; bolding, that sort of thing is using a crutch. It's amateurish and editors don't like to see it.

Me: @Kristen_Howe @AmpERobert Oops, I'm an amateur.

@Kristen_Howe: @AmpERobert @Julie_Weathers I had no idea.

@Kristen_Howe: @AmpERobert I see. I don't bold mine much. I do italicize mine though for internal thoughts or foreign words. Hope I did it right.

@AmpERobert: @Julie_Weathers @Kristen_Howe Yes that's me-- some person as AgentRobert. I recently left the agency & took new job. Sorry I thought U knew

Me: @AmpERobert Nope, I stopped following you after you called me a liar.

(I was excluded from the conversation after that. I was sad. I think I drank another beer.)

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe Underlines and/or Italicized text or bold text. These R all used 2 emphasize action, surprise, horror, interior monologue, ect

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe Foreign words I'd agree with. I'm still pondering interior monologue tho. I believe a reader can figure it out without help

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe I know the main reason I don't like italics is because when I'm getting a novel ready to publish italics mean extra work 4 me.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe When setting up a work, all that stuff disappears and has to be styled separately. I think the same is try with print too.

@AmpERobert: @Kristen_Howe Possibly why editors don't like it too. Just saying. But it's also a crutch that writers don't need. Make your writing do it

@AmpERobert: Shhh! Don't tell anyone--but Ampichellis Ebooks is looking for queries and submissions. Mysteries and suspense.

(This surprised me greatly. Well, maybe not.)

Pecan Pie and Bourbon Whipped Cream

2010-11-21T13:08:00.002-06:00

Pecan pie is a staple in the south. It's an easy pie to make, so there's no excuse not to serve it at your next get together or just as a yummy dessert. Pecan is pronounced peh' cahn, by the way, not pee' can.

I like my pecan pie straight up, but some people like it with bourbon whipped cream.

1 cup sugar

1 1/2 cups corn syrup (Some people use 1/2 dark and 1/2 light)

4 eggs

1/4 cup butter

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla

1 1/2 cups pecans, coarsely broken

1 unbaked 9" deep dish pie shell (See recipe for pie crust in Peanut Butter Pie post)

Directions:

Prep Time: 20 mins
Total Time: 1 1/4 hr

In saucepan boil sugar and corn syrup together for 2 to 3 minutes; add butter and set aside to cool to luke warm.
In large bowl beat eggs lightly and very slowly pour the syrup mixture into the eggs, stirring constantly.
Stir in vanilla, and pecans and pour into crust. Pecans will float to the top.
Bake in a 350°F oven for about 45 to 60 minutes or until set.

Bourbon Whipped Cream

1 cup heavy cream

2 teaspoon confectioners' sugar

1 tablespoon bourbon

Whip cream as usual.

Buttermilk Pie

2010-11-19T10:12:00.006-06:00

Buttermilk pie is another one of my favorites. Don't worry if you don't like buttermilk; you can't taste it.

1/2 cup butter melted
1 1/2 cups white sugar
3 teaspoons all-purpose flour
3 eggs
1 cup buttermilk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 (9 inch) unbaked pie crust (Some people prefer a deep dish)

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F

In a large bowl, cream butter and sugar until smooth. Mix in the flour, eggs, buttermilk and vanilla. Pour filling into pie shell. Sprinkle top with nutmeg.

Bake in the preheated oven for 60 minutes, or until golden brown. Use a knife to test as you do all custard pies.

Old Fashioned Peanut Butter Pie and Never Fail Pie Crust Recipe

2010-11-17T21:22:00.000-06:00

This is the pie crust recipe I use. It’s called Never Fail Pie Crust and it doesn’t. If I’m making a fruit pie, I add almond extract to the dough and a little less water. If making a meat pie either no flavoring or a bit of poultry seasoning for chicken pot pie, etc. It seems difficult, but it isn’t, and it’s worth the effort.

3 c. plain flour
1 1/4 c. very cold or frozen butter cut in small chunks
1 egg
1/2 c. ice water
2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. vinegar

Mix flour, butter, and salt. Either pulse a bit with a food processor or use a pastry blender until the texture of cornmeal. Beat together water, eggs and vinegar. Mix well. Combine with flour mixture. Mix until just incorporated. Over-mixing pie crust makes it tough. Divide into thirds and pat out in freezer bags. I shake a little flour in my bags. Chill before rolling into crust or you can freeze until you’re ready.

Makes 3 (9-inch) single crusts

When you make your pie crusts for pies like peanut butter pie, prebake the shells. Roll them out on a floured surface and fold them in quarters. Put the folded crust in the pan and unfold it then turn the edges under and flute them. Prick the dough in five or six places with a fork so the crust doesn’t puff up too much. Put dried beans in the bottom as weights and lay a strip of foil over the edge to keep it from over browning. Bake for ten-fifteen minutes at 375. You can remove the foil strips and beans about five-ten minutes in.

Keep the beans for the next time you bake.

There are a lot of peanut butter pie recipes out there. I like the custard pie. It's a bit more work than cream cheese and peanut butter, but it really is superior. Cut the slices small, it's extraordinarily rich.

Old Fashioned Peanut Butter Pie

1 cup sugar

3 rounded tablespoons flour

1/8 teaspoons salt

3 egg yolks (reserve whites for meringue)

2 cup whole milk

½ cup peanut butter

1 tablespoons butter

1 teaspoons vanilla

1 prebaked pie shell

Meringue:

3 egg whites

2 teaspoons sugar

pinch of cream of tartar

How to make it

In a large saucepan, combine sugar, flour, salt and egg yolks, adding a little milk and stirring constantly until you have a thick, smooth paste. Add the rest of the milk slowly, continuing to stir until all is blended. Stir in peanut butter, butter and vanilla and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly (nonstop stirring is critical to this recipe). When the mixture starts to thicken, lower the heat and cook slowly, continuing to stir until filling is the consistency of pudding. Pour filling into prebaked, cooled pie shell

Preheat oven to 300 degrees. In a large mixing bowl with an electric mixer, beat egg whites with sugar and cream of tartar until very thick, stiff peaks form. Spread on top of pie and bake at 300 degrees until meringue is lightly browned. If you prefer, you may bake the pie without the meringue and top with whipped cream or refrigerated topping after it has cooled.

I think I Know Where The Dragon Hides

2010-11-15T14:23:00.001-06:00

Years ago, we had a school project to make a picture using different kinds of seeds and beans. I sketched out my scene, a cowboy riding a bucking horse on the prairie. Then my step-mother took me to the store and we bought all kinds of beans, seeds and spices to make my scene.

I dyed rice to make various colors we couldn’t find. I even wanted the sky and clouds to be various shades of colors to add depth. I added the seeds to the picture with glue and tweezers. The dyed rice for the sky even had a movement to it.

I used poppy seeds for the dark shading on my brown horse.

It was turning out beautifully, but it was also time consuming. Instead of just dumping different color beans and seeds in various blocks of colors as most of the students did, I made each seed go exactly the place it was supposed to be in the right direction.

The project was due the next day and I still had a spot about 2” x 2” of sky to be filled in with individual grains of rice. I had to give up and just pour the glue in and dump some rice in to fill the hole.

The teacher was amazed at the picture, the shading and depth, and the “movement” I achieved. She was equally aghast that I had ruined it by dumping rice in the last spot. She said she would have given me another day to finish it so I could do it right. Well, of course, I didn’t know that and I was all about following the rules.

I’ve thought about that picture a bit lately. I saved it for a long time, but it got lost in one of our mad dash moves my mother was famous for. Still, I can see the horse. He was a brown Appaloosa with a blanket butt. I can see the sage brush made out of parsley and the multi-hued blue sky. As vivid as all that is, it isn’t as memorable as the clump of bunched up rice in the middle of hundreds of precisely arranged grains.

I typed “The End” again last night. Now, granted, I was tired and kind of whizzed through the last two scenes that were very emotional, but I got the bones down.

I like this ending a lot better. It brings back a character everyone loves. It brings in a lot more emotion. It wraps up the events of the story. It doesn’t solve all the mysteries, but it wraps them up to be reopened at a later time, or not. It goes a lot deeper into the main character’s journey. She discovers that war isn’t the heroic tale bards sing about and she discovers it really doesn't matter if people approve of her.

The three previous endings were terribly dissatisfying. I blame that on word count panic. Hurry up and get to the end without adding a single more word than you have to.

The endings were kind of like that clumped up bunch of blue rice. They filled in the hole, but they weren’t very satisfying.

One of my friends said once an ending should not only be the end of the story, but it should also be an invitation to the reader to join the next adventure.

Hopefully, that’s what this new ending does. It says thank you to the reader for following this adventure to the end. It invites the reader to sit down with the characters and drink a beer in a cheery roadhouse and think about all the wonders. Then, one of the characters gets a twinkle in their eye and says, “I think I know where the dragon hides. Do you want to come look with us?”

Lost, But Not Missing

2010-11-09T12:50:00.001-06:00

When Will got home from Iraq, we visited sometimes about his experiences there. They weren’t all good, obviously. Fortunately, Will is pretty laid back and he pretty much takes things in stride. Even getting stuck in Kuwait for over a week and being crammed in a building like sardines.

It came as little surprise that he mentioned a few times he wished he was back in Iraq. He liked his job, he was good at it and he likes organizing things. If you’ve ever watched M*A*S*H and seen Radar, that’s pretty much what he was. Technically, he was in charge of the armory. He also repaired weapons and worked on other procurement.

Sgt. Jeffy showed him how to work the system. Drop off an extra case of Dr Pepper to the mechanics and they work a little harder to get that vehicle fixed you need for the next convoy.

Another thing that helped was Will has a very agreeable personality and a sharp sense of humor. People like him.

Will likes things to be organized. He likes feeling like he’s accomplishing something. He likes to work. He likes people. He likes feeling like he makes a difference. Iraq pretty much satisfied all the things he wants.

He did, however, talk about one time that the army lost him for three weeks and that wasn’t one of his favorite experiences.

He was supposed to go to a school. He got to his first transfer and they put his ID in the system. After that, for whatever reason, he dropped off the radar for the army. They bumped him from his flight and he got switched to another one. Something happened with that and he got switched again. He finally made it there with no sleep and started the school.

He was in the school and they entered his ID, but it still wasn’t showing up in the database, so they put a question mark by his name at his base. Every soldier is listed and they update his location each time he goes somewhere. Since the database dropped him after the first transfer, he was missing even though he was where he was supposed to be.

Getting back from the school was worse than getting there. You can fly on a “standby” basis or sign up for a flight and you’ve got a seat within three days. Standby usually gets you out quicker so that’s what he did. Looking back, he admits he should have signed up and listed as standby also.

He and the other soldier from his base got assigned to a flight. They sat out on the tarmac all day with body armor on and packs and then were told they couldn’t get them on the flight. This went on for several days. They had a flight and then they didn’t have one.

The last one they got turned out the same way. The pilot decided to go with less fuel and squeeze the extra soldiers on. Will told him they’d wait but the pilot insisted. “Nah, that’s all right. We’ll make it.”

After they got on they were told to douse all lights. The plane was flying on minimum fuel so they’d be skimming the ground. Anti-aircraft would be able to see them from the ground if they detected a light.

So, after a tense, but uneventful, flight Will arrived back at his base a little after midnight. He kicked the door in to his hut and threw his stuff on the floor. His sergeant bunked with him and woke up. “Uh, hey, Weathers. Missed you.”

Will went into the office the next morning. Yeah, morning comes at the same time regardless if you’ve had any or much sleep. On the board, next to his name, was the question mark. The army knew he was still in Iraq someplace, but they had no idea where.

Thankfully, no one called me to tell me he was missing.

I sometimes wish my characters had ID badges. I’d look at the board and make sure everyone is where they’re supposed to be and doing what they’re supposed to be doing.

I’ve come to appreciate this outline even more as I go through the story. I read a chapter to catch obvious problems and then I outline it. Oftentimes, when I do the outline, a flaw I had missed surfaces. One chapter looked absolutely anemic when I dissected it. It worked in my mind, but when I took the meat off the bones, I could see the structure was off.

In this case, like Will, the story was lost, but not missing. Now, after three days of fiddling, I can stitch the flesh back in place over the straightened bones and move on.

Angry Spirit Editor

2010-11-03T17:28:00.000-05:00

Laura Bradford at Bradford Literary opened up an #askagent session on Twitter earlier today. I was half-heartedly scrolling in between searching for information about rats and noticed a question posted by an author.

“Do you recommend hiring a professional editor for your work before you submit.”

The question got lost in the shuffle, so after a while, I asked it again.

Janet Reid of Fine Print Literary responded with a simple, “No.”

I didn’t know if Janet would respond, but if she did, that was the answer I expected out of her. I've already seen her discuss this, but apparently the message hasn't made it out to the world yet.

Laura later came back with, “I don't know that I would mention it in a query that the ms was ‘professionally edited’ I see that all the time & it generally only makes me wonder why the author NEEDED an outside ed & whether it wld be a problem if I signed them.”

There were also some other questions answered that were kind of intriguing for a change. Normally, #askagent sessions are a rehash of the same pick ten questions, but sometimes something interesting gets tossed out. Social media can be an awesome tool.

We are back to my favorite rant. Anyone can set up a chat, a blog, a discussion, a website, a Facebook page or anything else. Just because they’ve been blogging for six years doesn’t make them a professional anything. It makes them an amateur blogger.

If you are in a discussion and self-appointed expert editor tells you to get your work professionally edited before you submit, look at who is giving this advice. Of course, expert thinks you should pay to get your work edited. This is expert’s sales pitch.Then expert will laugh and say how busy they are. They are busy because they keep convincing people they have to do without, their kids have to do without and their families have to do without so they can pay her.

"How much do you really want to succeed?" she asks. "If you're really serious, you'll make writing your priority."

The salesmen just put the guilt trip on you. "Well, ok, if you're not really serious about writing, then I can't help you."

It’s like going to a fortune teller and she says you have angry spirits following you, but if you buy a $25 dollar candle from her, she will pray and the candle will keep the angry spirits away.

What happens when your candle burns out? The angry spirits are back and you have to go buy another one.

If you can’t figure out how to edit your stories and revise, what are you going to do when the agent says they like the writing but it needs this change? Do you have the money to have editor make the changes for you? What happens if angry spirit editor is so busy because they have drummed up so much business scaring new authors into edit that they can’t get to you for six months?

What happens when the publisher says they want changes? Do you have the money to hire angry spirit editor again? Do you think the publisher is going to wait six months while angry spirit editor gets through all those lovely manuscripts she has been scaring people into sending her?

Find some writers who are compatible with you and form your own crit groups. Buy some good books on editing and revising. You wrote a book, now learn how to finish it.

It’s not finished until the publisher says it’s finished, so you better figure out how to do it.

Having said all that, I am not anti-editor. Editors are great. Some of my best friends are editors. You just have to have them in the right order and if someone is telling you you MUST pay a professional to edit your work before you submit, walk away.

A Pirate's Life For Me

2010-11-01T09:31:00.003-05:00

FAR RIDER is primarily the story of a young woman’s search for identity and a quest to gain respect. It could be a navel gazer except for the pirates, kidnappers, demons, civil war, genocide and senile wizard.

I’m at the point in revisions now where the main pirate, Captain Boots Trelaine, is revealing more of his story. This is epic fantasy, but I’ve tried to make the world real. That meant a lot of research, including delving into the world of pirates even though Trelaine’s story isn’t the main arc.

Everyone thinks of the PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN now when they think of pirates. While it’s a fantasy story of its own, there are a few interesting things that pop up.

The role of Elizabeth Swann, was most likely inspired by Anne Bonny, one of the more famous female pirates. Bonny was the daughter of a wealthy, respected plantation owner and lawyer. She defied her father’s wishes to marry well to run off with a small sailor and part-time pirate named James Bonny. Thus beautiful Anne Cormac began her adventures.

Anne met Calico Jack Rackham and had an affair with him. For this, Bonny demanded she be flogged for adultery. She was dragged before the governor with the charges. Calico Jack offered to buy a “divorce by purchase,” but she refused to be sold like cattle and she insisted on taking the flogging. Calico Jack arranged for her escape and they sailed together to wreak mayhem on the Caribbean.

There’s also an amusing part of the PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN saga where various people claim the right of parlay. I haven’t found any instance of that, but pirates did have written documents called Articles of Agreement. In these articles, the governing rules were laid out. I’ll post one set of them later.

Few Articles of Agreement have survived because if a pirate ship seemed in danger of being captured the pirates destroyed them. Most articles were kept on the door of the great cabin, so people could refer to them and they were signed by each crew member. Courts used the documents to prove they were pirates, so it was a dangerous thing to leave intact.

One of the interesting parts, to me, is they all had dismemberment clauses. It was very plainly spelled out what a crew member would be paid out of a general fund for loss of limb. Each pirate paid into this fund until a certain amount was reached to reimburse injured crew members.

Many pirate ships were actually a democracy and the captain could be voted out for incompetency. The crew members voted for officers and affairs that affected their lives. These democracies were well established before America dreamed of such a thing.

In FAR RIDER we have a limited democracy since Boots specially commissioned the Lorena Marie, his ship, and paid for it unlike many pirate ships that were captured. Boots had the Lorena Marie specially designed to be faster and shallower than many ships of the time. This meant she could strike quickly, outrun most ships and also harbor in shallower waters where most ships couldn’t sail.

The downside to the design was she was smaller, so a large warship could take her down. That’s where a definite plan comes in. Part of the plan is being a privateer as opposed to a straight pirate. Privateers were government sanctioned pirates who had authority to attack pirates and enemy ships. Boots, leaves off the pirate ships, but inflicts serious damage on enemy merchant ships.

Even being “marked” as a privateer had its problems. Capt. Kidd took down the Quedagh Merchant in what he felt was a legal catch, but he was still tried and executed for piracy.

Bartholomew Roberts' articles

One of the best known sets of pirate articles was set down by the famous Portuguese pirate Bartholomeu Português in 1720.
I. Every man has a vote in affairs of moment; has equal title to the fresh provisions, or strong liquors, at any time seized, and may use them at pleasure, unless a scarcity (not an uncommon thing among them) makes it necessary, for the good of all, to vote a retrenchment.

II. Every man to be called fairly in turn, by list, on board of prizes because, (over and above their proper share) they were on these occasions allowed a shift of clothes: but if they defrauded the company to the value of a dollar in plate, jewels, or money, marooning was their punishment. If the robbery was only betwixt one another, they contented themselves with slitting the ears and nose of him that was guilty, and set him on shore, not in an uninhabited place, but somewhere, where he was sure to encounter hardships.

III. No person to game at cards or dice for money.

IV. The lights and candles to be put out at eight o'clock at night: if any of the crew, after that hour still remained inclined for drinking, they were to do it on the open deck.

V. To keep their piece, pistols, and cutlass clean and fit for service.

VI. No boy or woman to be allowed amongst them. If any man were to be found seducing any of the latter sex, and carried her to sea, disguised, he was to suffer death; (so that when any fell into their hands, as it chanced in the Onslow, they put a sentinel immediately over her to prevent ill consequences from so dangerous an instrument of division and quarrel; but then here lies the roguery; they contend who shall be sentinel, which happens generally to one of the greatest bullies, who, to secure the lady's virtue, will let none lie with her but himself.)

VII. To desert the ship or their quarters in battle, was punished with death or marooning.

VIII. No striking one another on board, but every man's quarrels to be ended on shore, at sword and pistol. (The quarter-master of the ship, when the parties will not come to any reconciliation, accompanies them on shore with what assistance he thinks proper, and turns the disputant back to back, at so many paces distance; at the word of command, they turn and fire immediately, (or else the piece is knocked out of their hands). If both miss, they come to their cutlasses, and then he is declared the victor who draws the first blood.)

IX. No man to talk of breaking up their way of living, till each had shared one thousand pounds. If in order to this, any man should lose a limb, or become a cripple in their service, he was to have eight hundred dollars, out of the public stock, and for lesser hurts, proportionately.

X. The captain and quartermaster to receive two shares of a prize: the master, boatswain, and gunner, one share and a half, and other officers one and quarter.

XI. The musicians to have rest on the Sabbath Day, but the other six days and nights, none without special favour.

Capt. Roberts was a fascinating, if exceeding cruel, pirate and arguably the most successful of his time.

Picking Up Bits And Pieces

2010-10-27T12:06:00.003-05:00

As most of you know, I’ve been battling workman’s comp to get medical stuff done. People gripe about dealing with insurance. Wait until you get to deal with the government version of insurance.

The accident was on January 12. WC confirmed one knee, back, shoulders and neck. They later added the other knee after it showed fractures.

To date, I have done physical therapy that consisted of exercises, heat, massage, TENS treatment, surgery on right knee to remove torn meniscus. Two months after surgery, I am still trying to get WC to approve the physical therapy after surgery. They closed the case. We got it reopened. They approved the pt, but now there is some other crap red tape holding it up.

In the meantime, I take lots of pain pills, and sleeping pills, and muscle relaxants and OTC pills because the prescription stuff puts me to sleep or fogs my brain so badly I can’t think well.

The DDO said in his report I had migraines since I was 20 years old. What I actually told him was I had migraines 20 years ago after a car accident. I was treated and haven’t had any since. It’s possible he misunderstood me because of my accent, which he took time out to mock. I’m guessing he was just trying to whiz through the appt because another dr was waiting to take him to lunch. Regardless, WC won’t pay for migraine medicine that is nearly $20 a pill after my insurance pays the lion’s share. The other pain is due to hyperthyroidism according to him even though he didn’t do a blood test and I told him I’ve had two tests done and they were both normal.

Since I had surgery after the DDO said nothing was wrong, I now get re-evaluated. My lawyer said the chances are very high DDO will not reverse his decision and reinstate WC payments. In essence, this means we get DDO report and then we petition a judge to have a new dr assigned and …we start all over.

Yesterday, when I got the lawyer’s email, I broke.

What the hell. I don’t want to be twenty again. Just put my body back the way it was and let me go back to work.

I did talk to HR and they demanded I return to work. I explained the problem with the medications and said I would either be falling asleep at work or falling asleep driving and probably wind up killing myself or someone else.

HR guys. “It’s ok if you’re groggy at work as long as you don’t fall asleep.”

Me. “It’s ok if I’m groggy while I’m running inventory reports on millions of dollars of inventory every night? Does that seem like it might not be a good idea?”

HR “Just return to work and we can correct your mistakes.”

Me. “And are you going to correct me running off one of the overpasses and killing myself when I fall asleep driving.”

HR “That isn’t my problem, Julie. I don’t care what happens until you get here.”

Thanks, HR.

So, anyway, I indulged in a pity party for a few minutes. I have a two minutes to cry rule. So, I didn’t blubber very long, but I was still wallowing in self pity.

Then I got to thinking about something Will said when he got home from Iraq. We were just sitting, visiting and I asked him if the base was attacked much. He said there weren't many hits, but there were blasts fairly frequently and there was that morning an IED went off just outside the base on the road.

My heart lurched and I asked him if anyone was hurt.

“Just the bombers.”

“It killed them?”

“Yeah, one of them lived for a while and crawled off leaving part of him trailing behind. So, we got to go out and pick up body parts before breakfast.”

I’ve seen quite a bit of gore. You do when you’re involved with farming and ranching. Accidents happen. Butchering happens. Crap happens. However, thinking about picking up human body parts, even if those humans were trying to kill you, has to be pretty gut-wrenching. Perhaps it’s even worse when they were trying to kill you because you know how close you came to being one of those bits and pieces scattered over the desert.

That’s a lot to digest for someone who’s barely old enough to drink.

That put all my piddly whining into perspective.

I didn’t start out the day picking up body parts, so it’s probably going to be a good day.

Is Your Villain A Hero?

2010-10-25T19:06:00.000-05:00

Some friends and I were discussing FAR RIDER when I started breaking it down into POV plotlines.

Beth reminded me, each important person needs to be the hero of their story. Even the villains need to be heroes. They have some sort of “code” they live by.

Now, there are definitely rule breakers, but for the most part this is true.

In FAR RIDER there is a triangle of sorts.

The good guys, the bad guys and the guy who is kind of bad, but he could care less about politics and power.

It’s easy to make the good guys the heroes of their own stories, but it’s not quite so easy with the villains. It was that idea that got me to thinking about some things.

Firefly is a great writing teacher if a person dissects the stories and characters. Miska is about as bad as they come. He enjoys torturing people. He doesn’t allow anyone to cheat him or dishonor him. Still, he has a code of sorts. Unlike Patience, who will look for ways to cheat you out of your money, Miska pays well for services rendered. He isn’t going to cheat you, but he will find ways to torture you for days if you fail him. I tried finding links to these two characters, but couldn't. You just have to trust me if you aren't familiar with the series.

Baroness Lucine Chastain in FAR RIDER is based loosely on Elizabeth Bathory. I don’t have the stomach to mimic her too closely nor do I wish to establish myself as that type of author, but she makes a good model for a villain.

I had to examine Chastain closely to figure out why she’s a hero in her story and it boils down to her fighting for the rights of women or at least powerful women in a society that largely withholds women’s rights. They can own land, but it’s unusual and frowned upon. They don’t rule. Noblewomen are married at a young age to make sure she has a mate who can care for her lands if she inherits.

Chastain is very determined to show she’s not only capable of ruling her lands, but much more.

So, Chastain has a reason for what she wants and she’s the hero of her own story, but she might be a bit two dimensional. She likes beautiful things, but she isn’t affectionate and she certainly isn’t sexual. It’s just hard being well-rounded when you’re a psychopath.

Erokath is the demon in human form. He tends to be very laid back. He doesn’t get upset about things. He just destroys that which makes him unhappy. He hints at the fact that he has tortured people in his realm as punishment for refusing him and amusement, but he much prefers to play mind games.

Erokath was more difficult than Chastain at making the hero of his story because we don’t know why he wants power. Wanting power isn’t enough. There should be a reason. Perhaps he just thinks he can rule better because he has a more ordered mind. Where Chastain is fire, he is ice and everything he does is totally calculated. He dislikes untidy things like murders he hadn’t planned on. He doesn’t get upset, but he’s definitely forceful on the battlefield. He’s a gifted commander. That counters with his attitude which is almost cat-like. He has the well-rounded personality, but his hero arc is more difficult

The sort of villain is Captain Boots Trelaine. He’s young, attractive, has a lively sense of humor and joy de vive, but he also has his dark side and he doesn’t mind destroying a young woman to inflict pain on someone else he hates.

How the heck can you cheer for a guy who’s going to annihilate an innocent person’s life just to get revenge?

Of the three, he wound up with the middle ground. He’s a satisfying character and he has his own mission that seems just to him.

So, is your villain the hero of his story?

Lisa Ahn's Writing and Organizing Methods

2010-10-20T10:05:00.000-05:00

Writing Bodies

I started writing to save my sanity. I was used to having a creative outlet as a graduate student and then as a teacher. As an at-home mom of two kids under the age of four, I needed something more than crayons. I wrote. I wrote sporadically at first, and randomly, with no real faith that my strung-together words would end up someplace real. Nearly three years later, I have a novel, but the “system” that got me here is not much more than a hodgepodge of methods that fit the moment.

Any complex organism – a novel, a life, a nation – depends on interconnected systems. My writing process is a bit of this and a bit of that – scraps and scribbles, jots and jolts – that somehow combine into a greater whole. It’s a little bit like anatomy, the way a human body can only breathe and eat and dance because its systems work together, each one adding to the next.

The nervous system revs up first, those rapid-fire impulses that start a creature buzzing. I write in my head, before I write anywhere else. I write when I’m driving, walking, and doing the dishes. Some of my best ideas have come out of the vacuum cleaner, mostly because my kids are little and still a bit scared of that thing. My stories develop in small, random moments when ideas burst loose – crossing the street, folding laundry, the minutes before I fall asleep. I keep pens all over the house. I vacuum a lot.

Once the ideas are firing, they need muscles and bones to make the story move. The skeleton of my writing is character. For my novel, which is part family saga, I created detailed family trees to explore character relationships and maintain consistency. The bones of the story were set, but they needed muscle, the push and pull of events. I outlined the plot early on, and then kept track of its development through log entries. When it was time to kill off Uncle Matthew, the bones and muscles were in place, ready for the job.

At some point, my novel’s characters began to shake themselves, look around, and speak. They needed cities to live in, jobs, and obsessions. A respiratory system kicked in, bringing fresh air, oxygen, an influx of new ideas. I researched the tangents and the centers, using libraries and websites, old agricultural documents and floor plans of Brooklyn brownstones. Facts and figures were the molecules of air that gave the story life, and I kept my notes in word processing files for easy reference.

Still, even with muscles and bones, synapses and lungs, the novel wouldn’t have moved without a heart. The heart of this novel, of all my writing, is plain old-fashioned bull-headedness. I write every day, for two to three hours in the afternoon, while my kids have “quiet time.” Since my girls are four and six, quiet time isn’t always quiet. I write while I am getting snacks, fixing dress-up costumes, giving hugs, reading out random book pages, pouring glue, and trying not to freak out about the inevitable mess. Children wander in and out of my make-shift office, but my fingers keep tapping. I don’t use a word count or a page count, but I write every day, even when I’d rather take a big family nap. Without the steady pumping of that heart, I wouldn’t have gotten anything done.

Eventually, I finished the book, and sent it to beta readers. That’s where my immune system kicked in, the part of me that initially rejects every bit of substantive criticism. “No,” the macrophages shout, treating each suggestion as a viral infection. Thankfully, I have a digestive system as well, and that’s what fuels my real revision. After some time to reflect, I approach my revisions in a more balanced – less defensive – frame of mind. The other function of the digestive system is, of course, to get rid of all the waste, which is helpful when I need to cut a paragraph that I spent three days writing, a character or arc that simply doesn’t fit.

My novel’s done, and I am getting ready to query. To keep my sanity during that process, I know I’ll need to write something new. A reproductive system helps here – no, not more kids, just more ideas. One idea fuels another, one project quick-starts the next. I already have a new nervous system – those jots and jolts, scraps and scrabbles – all laid out. Now, it’s time to build a new set of bones, breathe through a different pair of lungs, and keep the steady heart beating. In the end, what I create is a life – a novel and its characters, but also me, my life, played out in the act of writing, in the act of staying (relatively) sane.

As for planning,I used the family trees, plot outlines, and the log to look ahead and keep track of things. Other than that, I guess I just do it in my head and through revision. Does that make sense?

~ Lisa Ahn

Checking the Charts

2010-10-18T07:53:00.006-05:00

If you belong to any kind of social media, a writer’s group, a library, a school or even know a writer, you’ve probably seen J.K. Rowling’s spreadsheet page from Order of the Phoenix about 32,941 times. In case you missed it, I’ll show it again.

It made me think of a few things.

1. Those messy lines drive me nuts.

2. Someone has worse handwriting than me.

3. Rowling was very careful about plotting everything out.

4. It shows in her writing, because one of the things I love about her stories is the careful plotting. If she introduces something or someone, you can be sure it will come into play somewhere along the line.

I really like that. I like dropping things in that seem kind of innocent and then later they become a major issue.

In DANCING HORSES Colton’s (MC) aunt find a massive amount of pina colada air fresheners on sale. She puts them in his truck, his closets, his office. He smells like a walking coconut. This triggers a subliminal urge to eat Mounds Bars and one of the horses develops a craving for Mounds Bars too. The horse recognizes his scent even when he can’t see Colton and has a funny little nicker when he smells him. Maybe he loves the guy, and who doesn’t aside from the mob guys who are trying to kill him, or maybe the horse loves the Mounds Bars. Either way, Colton has returned to ex-bosses stud farm and is hiding in the barn. The guys decide he isn’t in the barn until the horse does his little nicker and one of the hired hands recognizes it. Oops.

I love stuff like that. Unfortunately, unless you’re really careful, those cool little clues turn into, “What the heck is going on here? I’m totally lost.”

It gets worse when you cut out 1/3 of your book to get word count down and then it’s, “I’m so confused. The horse is a wizard?”

On the first pass, I highlighted all the scenes to denote different POV. That took a lot of highlighters, but let’s not get into that. It did show me where I needed to readjust scenes and chapters to introduce characters sooner or scatter scenes so characters don’t disappear for too long.

I actually have pictures of that phase because that was when I had a camera. We also won’t get into that.

I thought I had all that worked out. The problem with reading your own stuff, or even people who are familiar with your work reading it is the minds have become accustomed to the story. They know what’s going on because they’ve seen it before. Your mind knows exactly what’s going on because the story is where you’ve live for months, years or decades.

The new person reading it, like an agent, looks at it and scratches their head, pours another drink, decides to plow on for whatever reason and at the end they have a headache, either from reading your manuscript or the three bottles of scotch it took to get through it. In either case, there is a major problem.

Your plot isn’t a gently meandering stream with some lovely little meadows and forests along the way. It’s, as one person said, kudzu. The only good thing to say about kudzu is it’s green. It's not a great description for a plot.

So, back to the drawing board, or storyboard.

I tried the storyboard, but it was too inconvenient to go from one room to the other to check on something while I was writing.

I did the character arcs for the main characters to get feedback from the writing group. That helped a lot. I also learned I need to show more “whys” when characters do something. What is their motivation? This was hard for me because Barbara Rogan drilled it into our heads to trust the reader and not explain everything. If you show a man trying to help a wounded bird you can assume he is kind-hearted. Or hungry. As usual, I took it too far and now I need to dial it back a notch.

Now I am doing an in depth outline. I start out with the chapter and then do each scene. Each scene is broken down into the important parts. I highlight items in yellow if it’s something that is “planting a seed” for future action. When the future action happens, I go back and highlight it with green. I tossed out a hook and then closed the loop so I don’t have stuff still dangling.

If something triggers in my mind that a line doesn’t sound quite right or something bothers me about it, I highlight that yellow also and make a note in brackets so I can check it later.

This seems like it ought to be great for cutting more stuff out. I recognize lines and scenes I can get rid of and streamline it even more. In actuality, it means there are some things I need, but I took out previously so now other things no longer make sense. I’m adding in some details, action and even a bit of backstory, but it means the story doesn’t have those annoying questions.

On the plus side, another POV is eliminated and a character everyone loves becomes much more important. Who the heck doesn’t want more of a charming, kind of, pirate with a warped sense of humor?

So, in honor of J.K. Rowlings' spreadsheet that was seen ‘round the world, we are exploring how different writers organize their stories. I’ll be linking different blog posts relating to the subject here as will other writers on their blogs so we can do a sort of blog tour.

Caveat: Not everyone plans. Some people can’t or they lose interest in the story. Some people do it after the story is done. There is no “right” way to write regardless of what some experts will tell you. The right way is the way that works for you, but it’s always interesting to share ideas.

Susan M. Boyer has posted her methods!

Lisa Ahn debuts here with her methods.

Midnightblooms is plotting to take over the world

A.S. Has a method to her madness also.

The Great North Dakota Zap In

2010-10-14T12:30:00.001-05:00

Kari Dell was discussing Beach, ND this morning and it reminded me of odd names for towns. Tarzan, Texas was named after the fictional character. So the story goes, a man in what is now Tarzan wanted to incorporate the community and get a post office, but every name he came up with was already taken. He was sitting in his easy chair, filled with frustration and happened to glance at a comic book his son left on the floor. A Tarzan comic book. The man filed the name and Tarzan, Texas was born.

When I was in high school, some brain decided it would be awesome to hold a Woodstock type event at the little town of Zap, N.D. We played zap in our school athletics and our town population was around 400 at the time. Zap was even smaller. Anyone with half a working brain cell would know this isn’t a great idea. Zap was not prepared for a huge influx of people. It certainly wasn’t prepared for the national media attention the event got. Some people say it was to protest civil rights or the Viet Nam war. Bull. It was an excuse for college kids to go someplace “cool” drink, screw and do drugs until they ran out of money and friends.

And thus the Great North Dakota Zap In was born. I noticed some people call it the Zip to Zap, but it was pretty much known as the Zap In and hippies, college kids, motorcycle outfits and news crews from around the nation seemed to converge on this sleepy little town.

Mom was a bartender at the Killdeer Bar and Steakhouse in Killdeer, N.D., hence the name. Ella, an elderly, rather portly woman who always wore a floured house dress straight from the 1940’s and a white bib apron cooked in the “steakhouse,” which could serve about 20 people at a time if everyone scrunched up together. Ella did server good food and lots of it, so that’s where most people ate when they came to town. Plus, the adjoining bar was the hot spot in town and you could eat in there if the café was full or you just didn’t want to interrupt your drinking.

Just about everyone in Killdeer and the surrounding area had serious misgivings about all these kids descending on North Dakota with their drugs, loud music and drinking, but I’m sure a few people in Zap thought the publicity for the little town would be great and they would get rich.

So, two days before the great Zap In, I’m at the Laundromat next to the steakhouse with my younger brothers and sisters doing the laundry. Ella waddled up the stairs from the steakhouse, which was in a basement under the community hall. The streets were quiet with quiet with the exception of the city police officer, Gus Pusechenko who weighed so much the police car permanently sat at an angle even when he wasn’t in it. Thankfully, there wasn’t a lot of crime in Killdeer aside from some rotten kids who placed empty beer cans and down the center line of main street every 12” from one city limits sign to the other. That, and the resulting fine for malicious littering, is a story for another time.

This day, however, there was a motorcycle coming down main street. You could hear it from past the city limit sign. I looked out the Laundromat window to see who it was and recognized Gerald, one of our star football players in his orange and black letterman’s jacket.

Ella, however, who had already vowed to lock herself in her house lest the wanton motorcycle gangs from the Zap In descended on Killdeer, didn’t recognize Gerald. She just saw the black leather on the letterman’s jacket and the motorcycle.

Since Gus was not around, she ran down the streets, waving her white apron and screaming, “Hell’s Angels! Hell’s Angels! Lock your doors!” I suppose she screamed that all the way home where she locked herself in until someone assured her it was just Gerald and not an outlaw motorcycle gang scout.

While Killdeer avoided overspill from the Zap In, Zap took the full brunt of having thousands of people swarming a tiny town with not nearly enough facilities to handle them. Food ran out. Water ran out. Booze ran out and the make peace, not war gathering turned to a full-blown riot. The town asked people to leave and some did, but the remaining unhappy flower children stayed and continued rioting. The National Guard finally arrived to disperse the crowds and that was the last Zap In or Zip to Zap or anything else zippy and zappy aside from some spirited basketball and football games.

The Zip to Zap is the only event in North Dakota history that required National Guard to restore order. Unfortunately, half of the towns bars and cafes did not survive the Zap In and both of them were destroyed in the riot.

As to where the name Zap comes from? Supposedly it’s named after another coal mining town in Scotland named Zapp, but no such town exists.

How to Approach an Agent

2010-10-13T16:01:00.001-05:00

How to approach an agent? It’s a question that’s puzzled writers probably since there have been agents and writers.

There’s the personal pitch in the office sweetened by an awesome gift.

While this approach has apparently worked in some situations, and your mileage may vary according to how nice the rug is and how good you look in a slinky dancing costume, there’s still a pretty good chance the agent won’t be thrilled. They might even defenestrate you.

There’s the catch them in the bathroom and slide your manuscript under the stall approach. That works less well than a person thinks and while the agent may flush, they won’t be flushed with excitement. If they are like me, I hate going to the bathroom in a crowded restroom. I lean forward a bit so I don’t sound like a cow peeing on a flat rock. It’s hard to get that perfect angle where you pee relatively quietly.

Anything else involving more noise and, yeah, I’m reaching back and flushing early to disguise where that came from.

Maybe agents aren’t this concerned about their restroom habits, but still, a manuscript sliding under a stall door when you’re trying to hurry up and do your business, get your pantyhose hiked back up, preferably with no extra toilet paper trailing behind, adjusting skirt or pants, tucking in shirt, if needed and dashing back out the door to wash hands and rush to the next workshop or panel is enough stress.

Even though two-holers are kind of cozy, it's still impolite to pass your manuscript.

Getting an agent drunk and dropping your manuscript discreetly into their bag, briefcase or purse probably won’t work either. Let’s face it, most agents I know aren’t light weights in the drinking department. You’ll probably spend your child’s college fund trying to get them drunk and they aren’t going to believe they really asked you for your manuscript in a drunken stupor. You’re doing good if they ask for a business card or a few pages.

I’m not saying getting an agent drunk isn’t a good idea. They probably appreciate the effort, but when they sober up, your writing still has to wow them.

Getting an agent alone and pitching to them.

I kind of like this idea except I always choke so I need more than the recommended minute. You need to either hone these skills or figure out a way to keep them alone a bit longer.

Here are some other not so good suggestions.

Send your query to an agent taped to the top of a pizza box. This sounds like an awesome idea. However, sometimes the pizza sticks to the top of the box. Most agents aren’t going to eat food sent from people they don’t know. (Yes, they’re a suspicious lot.) How are you going to know what kind of pizza they like without hiring a private detective and then you really look like a creepy stalker, which you are.

Sending gifts with your queries.

Yes, it gives the agent something to talk about with other agents when they do the, “I can do you one better,” game, but it doesn’t help your cause. Don’t send beautiful carved wooden boxes with your manuscript,

homemade cookies spelling out your query,

cups of flour,

watermelons from your prize-winning garden, (actually, Diana Gabaldon got that)

a jigsaw puzzle of your first page, or any other clever thing you can come up with that’s never been done before.

As boring as it is, just send a professional query

And, even though this is the digital age, don’t send a tweet to 92 agents with a link to your synopsis. It will just irritate them and you may possibly burn a bridge or 92 of them. Yes, someone did this. They tweeted Janet Reid twice, because she's just that special.

There are three main ways. Meet an agent at a conference, get a recommendation from a client or another agent, or query professionally.

Ripped Pots and Ripped Lives

2010-10-12T10:25:00.001-05:00

I, by nature, have an analytical mind. I like solving mysteries. I like figuring out how things work. I like building things and that usually involves sitting down and drawing out plans to an exact measurement. Imprecise things drive me crazy unless it’s something like pottery where part of the charm of a pot may be its variables.

I used to make ripped pots. I have no idea how many of them I’ve made, but it was a lot. Unfortunately, I gave them all away and I no longer have access to the artist who used to let me play in his shop and make them.

As soon as you take the pot out of the mold, you trace your pattern into the clay. You need to channel it deep enough to hold a line of glaze very precisely. The bands are measured out and cut with a stylus mounted on an adjustable instrument that cuts into the pots as it goes around on a turntable. Once the bands are cut, you cut the other designs. They are usually geometric, so they need to be planned out carefully.

Sometimes I did figures. On one, I did three races horses heading bunched together and facing out as if they were running toward the viewed. The horses were done in a shaded silhouette effect which was surprisingly detailed.

Contrasting that precision is the rough, jagged edges that can’t really be planned. To do this, you have to work with the pot while it’s still quite wet and simply cut off the top, leaving part of it near the original height and cutting deep into the pot for the remainder.

I always kept the tops to glaze to match the pots and voila, you had a candle holder.

To make the “rips” you dip your fingers in water and pull the clay, twisting as you do so. The secret to making the really pretty, rough rips is to vary your pressure so some pieces actually pull off in your fingers. These edges are very sharp and very fragile when they're fired. Some people do this like they’re fluting the edge on a pie crust. I don’t like it and won’t waste my money on ceramics done that way.

It takes a bit of practice, but it can be learned. Bill Siegenthaller, the man who taught me to make ripped pots used to let me practice on tops he wasn’t going to use. It takes a certain feel and having someone there to tell you, “All right, watch your patterns so you vary your pulls,” as you are doing it reinforces it more than just playing with clay.

At any rate, all this came about because I loved Bill’s pots, but I really couldn’t afford them because they were art gallery quality and that’s actually who his customers were.

That’s how I learn most of the things I learn. Oh! I love those beaded earrings! Oops. No, I can’t afford to pay $65 for them, but I think I can learn to make them.

He took me in like a stray puppy and taught me. I, in return, spent all my money in his shop and at that time I was painting a lot of ceramics besides ripped pots.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, this split personality mind carries over into my writing. I love the wild, ragged places my stories go. I love the unpredictability of the ripped pots and ripped lives. This isn’t a bad thing until the journey is so scattered everyone is lost.

I’m not lost because I know exactly what has happened in my mind. Not all of that made it to the pages, though, and readers love some of the places they get to visit, but they have no idea how they got there or why they are there.

That’s where the dissecting came in and you would think this is easy for someone who likes to plan things out precisely. It wasn't. I had to basically take every person who is noticed by the reader and examine their arc. Each one has to have some kind of closure or at least leave off at an acceptable place. Obviously, not all the questions are going to be answered in FAR RIDER, but enough are answered that the reader should be satisfied.

Four of my writing friends have been doing some brainstorming with me. Beth broke down Gen’s plot line into seven realms. There are seven layers that one character deals with and has to resolve. Seven goals and seven things or people trying to thwart her. That’s a lot of conflict. Conflict is good, but it also needs to unfurl in such a way that it makes sense.

Now that I finally have my head wrapped around this, the pieces of the puzzle are falling into place. Some characters are disappearing. Some conflicts are disappearing. Some conflicts are simplified. And, there are a few new conflicts that make other conflicts more understandable.

I've read Beth's manuscript. It's a remarkable story and I am always amazed at the little things that come together to make the whole. There are so many details and twists and yet, none of it is confusing. What's even more remarkable is Beth doesn't plan her stories out. I'm sure her brain does, but she doesn't. She says she loses interest in a story if she knows what's going to happen. Even though she doesn't plan things out ahead of time, she does analyze the story and make sure the arcs are complete and have that pleasing cigar shape everyone wants.

I cannot say this enough. If you don’t have good partners, writing can be a very daunting task.

Writing is not for the faint of heart.

Dancing With Madness

2010-10-10T10:45:00.001-05:00

I’m getting to the end of the plotline dissections. As I’ve said before, when a person gets a revision letter from an agent, I think the first thing they or at least I wanted to do was rush through the manuscript and make obvious changes. It’s done! Whee! Zip it back to the agent.

That first read through got rid of obvious problems and cut some subplots no one would miss, but in my heart I knew the problem was much deeper. I really needed to dissect everything. I needed to rip everything apart and take it back down to the core components and ask a few questions.

Is this scene necessary? One scene I am still teetering on is where the mc goes to a garden to pick flowers with another character and they encounter a bard who has been banned from teaching music to the children of the keep as punishment to the children. They made the mistake of mutinying to get more music time at the expense of their other studies.

This scene was supposed to establish a few things. It reintroduces a character who’s been missing for a while. It shows Gen trying to be normal and act happy even though she’s on the brink of madness and suicide. It gives her an excuse to get around the plants she’s gathering to commit suicide with. It reinforces the strength of music as an anchor in her life.

That’s what the scene should do. In reality, it may be a place where the action slows down and people get bored. It might be perceived as a fluff scene.

Yeah, because people who are depressed are supposed to be brooding and sad.

I’m sure many people are. Certainly, if you look at the commercials for antidepressants on tv, all the people are sad and moving in slow motion. It’s obvious to anyone who sees them they need FeelGud three times a day and they’ll be out playing with their children and laughing again.

When Mirinda died, I got a job a few weeks later. Don went back to work driving truck and was gone for weeks at a time. I was happy at work and helpful. Everyone loved me, especially my customers who insisted I wait on them when they came in.

The side no one saw was a person who often forgot to eat for days at a time unless someone took me out to eat and then I remembered I should eat. I lost from 153 post partum to 87 pounds in a relatively short period of time. I normally weigh 130 when I’m in good shape and muscled up.

They didn’t see the person who rushed around to do chores outside so I could lock up the house at sunset because “they” were out there.

They didn’t see the person who refused to go in the bedroom after dark unless Don was there because I took some folded clothes back there one night and saw Mirinda lying on the bed. Obviously, anyone in their right mind knows a dead baby isn’t just going to appear in her pristine christening gown on the middle of the bed and that’s the point. Anyone in their right mind. I saw Mirinda and no amount of logic could erase that. I tossed the clothes in the air, screamed, slammed the door and never returned to that room after dark when I was alone again. I didn’t even go to the bathroom after dark because the bathroom was next to the bedroom.

They didn’t see the person who slept, when she could, curled up in a chair with her back to the wall facing the front door because “they” were out there.

They didn’t see the person who was afraid to sleep because every time she did, the nightmare returned. There was a knock at the door. I opened it and three hags stood there laughing. The middle one had a small blanket-wrapped bundle with lace peeking out in places. The blanket was covered in dirt as if it had just been dug up. Then, the woman held the bundle out to me and said, “Here’s your baby, dearie,” and they all cackled while I screamed.

I touched on these emotions with Gen and flitted around what was happening in her mind, but I never showed it. I said, “she was sad,” but it didn’t engage me or the reader. Maybe I just played with it because it’s painful or maybe I was being lazy. Either way, I realized this was one of those places I was going to have to either get rid of it or go much deeper and bleed all over the page without being melodramatic.

I haven’t really seen too many people get the dancing with madness scenes right. Joss Whedon in FIREFLY does. He actually does it better than anyone I’ve seen. Of course, Summer Glau was the perfect actress to pull off this difficult role. It's not easy being crazy.

Panning for Gold

2010-10-07T11:18:00.000-05:00

My father owns a gold mine.

That sound glamorous and wealthy, but it really isn’t. Most years it’s soaking money into it with no return. However, it’s in a beautiful area and I love being in the mountains with no one around for miles, looking out over a green velvet valley.

I like panning for gold also. One of the best places to pan is in a dry creek bed or by digging the dirt out of the roots of large trees by creeks. Trees that have winter killed and fallen over are the best. When water washes down these creeks, it takes gold with it and the gold gets stuck in the roots that often extend out into the creek bed.

So, you get a bucket, shovel dirt from the roots, grab your gold pan and start panning. I once had half a prescription bottle full of flakes and small nuggets I had panned out. Unfortunately, my uncle thought it was some fools gold they had been playing with and threw it away.

The techniques of gold panning apply to writing also. We sift through a lot of writing, experiences, emotions and advice to get to that nugget that makes our writing shine.

(Chain Cow with my gold pan and some of my nuggets)

I spoke with a friend yesterday who is dropping out of our writing group. Needless to say, I was saddened because I love her input, I love keeping up with her writing and, frankly, I just love her. However, she had gone to a conference that focuses on empowering the person and she realized she is spending entirely too much time on the internet and she had to cull things in her life that weren’t really advancing her writing or her happiness.

You would think a writing group would do that, but we’re pretty slow right now and everyone is wrapped up in their own lives, so I understand.

This effort to clean out the time sinks in her life didn’t really hit home until I tried to find a site I had been to and started going back through three months of browsing history. That was an eye-opener and frightening at the same time.

One month 8500 searches, 7555, 4800 and the low month was when I was without internet for nearly half the month.

It really hit home about how much time I waste. Even this morning, I noticed it. I looked up a news story and then read five other stories. Reading news isn’t bad, but did I really need to know what Jessica Simpson advises to keep you from farting? Probably not.

However, I do find nuggets every now and then.

I watched a Youtube video of army medics in Afghanistan and was surprised to learn how they treat massive trauma in the field. I was aware that all of our soldiers learn basic emergency care, including inserting IVs, but some of the things the medic discussed surprised me.

Many times, due to the type of attack, the body is shredded. There are so many wounds they have to just pick a place and work their way around the body until they have them staunched enough to medivac out. Often times, the medics can tell what kind of trauma they’re dealing with by smell.

By smell.

From experience they’ve learned stomach wounds smell one way and other wounds have their own distinctive odors.

OK, the writer in me tucked that tidbit away for future use.

A man on twitter, Ken Jones, who goes by the name @AKvet on twitter was discussing PTSD in vets. He’s been working with other vets since Viet Nam. In one case, he talked about a man who was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper when he had a severe flashback that required rushing him to the ER.

No one had a clue what triggered the episode. Ken went to the hospital and started visiting with him. The man was reading the paper when his daughter came into the kitchen and mixed up a pitcher of Kool-Aid.

They kept talking and Ken realized the vet’s unit carried Kool-Aid to put in their canteens to make the water drinkable when they were in the jungle. His patrol stopped at a stream and he was adding Kool-Aid to his canteen when the Viet Cong ambushed them. The patrol was shredded like ragdolls with few survivors.

They determined it was the smell that set him off and they’ve now learned that smell is one of the most powerful triggers for PTSD. Smell is a sense that can’t be filtered by the brain. That makes it doubly powerful because it can’t be controlled and it’s almost instantly processed by the brain.

Everyone knows a truly rich story will draw on several senses, including smell. One writer recommended putting a scent on every page. I’m not sure I can do that, but I do try not to overlook the power of smell.

There is a section of FAR RIDER where my mc has been severely traumatized with a heightened PTSD. I realized when I was doing some revisions that I haven’t really dug deep into that for a few reasons. Now, I’m going to go back and add in some sensory triggered attacks.

So, no, not everything on the net is bad, but 8,500 searches in a month might be a good indication I am not panning in the right spot.

#Queryfest and Free Speech

2010-10-05T10:25:00.003-05:00

I planned on staying out of this discussion, but last night a nitwit drew me back into the row so I’ll share my feelings.

Hello, my name is Julie and I’m on Twitter.

Twitter is a two-edged sword. It can be a horrible time sink and a great source of irritation, but it’s also useful for discussing things of interest. This is especially good for me since there are no writers around me. It’s also a good way to establish something of an online presence. Granted, I’m not sure that’s a plus for me since I haven’t learned to keep my mouth shut when I should.

Several months ago some agents did critiques on twitter as they were going through their queries. It stirred up a massive debate that went viral. The biggest complaint was writers felt like their privacy was being violated even though the critiques weren’t terribly specific.

I understood what they were doing, and why, but it did bother me a bit. They were trying to help, but some of the remarks were a little caustic and I flinched even though I knew my query had no chance of being read because I hadn’t queried any of them. Still, as hard as I have struggled with my query, I couldn’t help feeling sorry for those who may have spent a long time struggling with that query.

The query critiques are a lot different than the #pubtip some agents toss out there. Most of those consist of things like, “Please, people, include your contact information in your query.”

More recently, an intern started doing a #queryslam. She said she called it that because she was looking for the writer who hit a grand slam with their query. Some people objected to it because they thought she was deliberately slamming queries.

The intern changed the name to #queryfest.

I followed #queryfest mainly because I was curious as to what kind of trends were popping up and to see where the intern stopped reading.

Internamie read queries. She sent queries back that didn’t have pages with a gentle reminder they needed to include pages. She would often get excited about a query that had a great premise, but the pages didn’t hold up. Some of it was common sense stuff like the agent doesn’t rep screenplays or something.

Some comments sent off alarms in my head. “This query has great potential, but the plot fell apart in the pages.” What the hell? You can tell in five pages the plot falls apart? I’ve looked at my first five double-spaced pages and basically all the reader knows is the name of some characters and a family member has been killed. I’ve had some people comment I should do more world building and delay the message a bit. So if some people think my story is moving too fast, how bloody fast does a story have to be moving to know the plot falls apart?

“Whoa, two misplaced commas in the first page. The agent hates that.”

Yikes. OK, now I want to know who this agent is. Not that I’m trying to be sloppy, but if the agent is that precise, I know we aren’t going to be a good fit.

About the only thing learned from the #queryfest is what’s being submitted to that particular agent and why the intern rejected them.

A few people comment in the last session they aren’t sure how they feel about their queries being tweeted. Janet Reid says, “If any of our interns did something like #queryfest on twitter, they'd be fired on the spot. I'm actually not sure I'd wait till morning.”

And the battle is on.

Several people bitched that Janet was being mean and should mind her own business. If she didn’t like #queryfest she should ignore it because Internamie is just trying to help people. Then it turned into a #bitchfest with people complaining about Janet Reid.

I told one person who complained they had no way to learn how to write queries without people like Internamie they should check out Miss Snark, Query Shark, Nathan Bransford and several other agents who actually have precise and complete advice on queries.

This, of course, resulted in the comment I was just kissing ass, hero worshipping and sticking up for agents who don’t even know I exist.

Internamie laughed about Janet’s remark and said that’s why she twitters under a “pen name” and she doesn’t say who she works for. She keeps the query details vague so they are anonymous also.

Um, not quite. The day after one #queryfest I was stumbling around some agent sites for some reason. I don’t even remember why now, but this agent had popped up on the radar. She mentioned on her blog her awesome intern Amie had sent something great to her. I think there was also a picture of the intern on the site. Internamie used her real picture as her avatar so I recognized her.

I said on twitter to Internamie, “Actually, you’re not that anonymous. I found your agent a few days ago.”

Internamie responded to me with a private (I'm sure we mentioned something about this privately, but it's possible it may have only been the public message. I know dms were going hot and heavy about this for a bit.) message. “Shhh, I don’t want to get fired.”

Time out.

Internamie knows she can get fired for this and she does it anyway? That moves this in a whole new direction.

The agency apparently has a rule about confidentiality and she willingly chose to break it so she could appear to be helping writers.

I think her heart was in the right place, but she was wrong to post the query information without express approval from her employer and the authors.

What bothers me possibly as bad as this violation of trust is the way some writers piled on the evil agent for violating Internamie's free speech. Amie may have free speech, but she doesn't have the right to share confidential information with the world. While everyone is free to believe what they will, that doesn't really give them the right to be rude and disrespectful to others.

The attacks on Janet Reid, Rachelle Gardner and other agents make my blood boil.

Isn't it odd that the ones who cry loudest about free speech are often the ones who want to wade in fists swinging to shut someone up they disagree with.

Respect

2010-10-01T12:23:00.001-05:00

I’m still revising. The first impulse when many get a revision letter is to zip through it and send the thing back before the agent loses interest. Well, that’ probably the second impulse. My first was wondering if I really understood what the agent wanted and how to fix it. That was followed by panic.

Somewhere along the line, after sleeping on it a lot and discussing it with some of my Gnomies who had read it, I found a starting point.

The main issue is the plot is still too confusing. It needs to be more focused and pared down. That seems simple. Just cut out subplots and characters. I realized somewhere along the way, it went a little deeper. Some characters needed to be more fully presented and the reasons for what they were doing revealed. This seems like the opposite of what I should be doing, but it eliminates some of the confusion.

I think I had a problem other writers may have. I had a massive story. I know sort of where it goes and I tried to shove all the foundation work into one novel. Perhaps I even thought at some point I could tell the entire story in one novel. So, I crammed all this stuff in and then I started yanking things out to get the word count down. Unfortunately, I also left in a lot of places where characters and plot lines were just hanging.

I had to remove them completely. That allowed me to focus more on the main plotlines. Those characters will most likely appear in a later novel if there is one.

So, I knew that removing characters and subplots works and I knew in some cases I needed to further expound on elements that were in place so the reader wasn’t confused about why someone was doing something or who they were.

Z.A.Recht author of PLAUGUE OF THE DEAD read FR in its beginning stages and made a comment about the stakes needed to be higher when Gen kisses the pirate. She needs to be truly fearful something drastic could happen. I added in a scene where well-loved Captain Hampton gets his hair shaved off, branded, stripped naked in front of all the troops, and drilled out of he army for dereliction of duty because he was fooling around with a woman instead of sending out patrols and something bad results.

This scene has a deep effect on Gen.

As often happens with me, this character struck a chord. I realized he would become prominent later on, but I didn’t have the luxury of fleshing him out now. I had to settle for introducing him a couple more times and settling him into his new location.

The evil banished cult is another problem. I need them to fulfill some evil deeds, but taking out much of their backstory left them confusing. I could accomplish some things by just having a sorcerer wave their hand, whisper a few magic words and open a demon gate for the nasty demon armies to return, but I really hate that. Two bitter enemy cultures had to join together to defeat them twenty years ago. Seriously? All someone has to do is wave their hand and the gateway opens? No. It has to come at great cost, and more cost than one person, such as my conniving baroness, can bear.

So, we have the good guys: Gen, the women’s unit, the loyalists who are trying to find the missing king and the sorcerer family. I need Gen, obviously since she’s the MC. I need the women’s unit since that’s her vehicle to get what she wants, or at least what she thinks she wants. I need the loyalists because the greater danger, the destruction of her father’s people, will happen if the bad guys aren’t stopped.

Do I need the sorcerer family? If I get rid of them, it cuts down on subplots. It also guts Gen’s journey. Plus, everyone loves Saerowyn and his family and they are the ones who enable Gen to accomplish a lot of things she couldn’t do on her own. Saerowyn actually sprang into being because I needed a way to get Gen into the royal court.

The bad guys are Lucine, Erokath, Amadessi and the evil cult. Can I cut down on them? Not really. They are all important to the present story and the complete story. I did remove something in Amadessi’s story line that comes back later. Amadessi is the evil Baroness Lucine Chastain’s personal sorcerer. He comes into his own later also.

Captain Boots Trelaine, the handsome pirate with a past. He's the third part of the triangle. He starts out on Lucine's side and winds up not so much so. He's an entity unto his own and kind of a wild card.

Since he captures everyone’s heart, I need to flesh him out more. He’s a complicated character with a lot of secrets and a vendetta. How do I bring him more to the front without adding a lot more plot, and words, to a story that needs to be slimming down on both?

I’m not sure how to accomplish that. I’m still working on it, but I think, when I figure it out, it’s going to be simpler than I thought it would be.

I can get rid of his first mate, Sticks, and replace him with the new member of the crew who is a recently disgraced army captain named Hampton. Yeah, that’s where the branded captain landed. However, he’s a loyalist, or was, and the pirate is still deciding if he can be trusted. He certainly wouldn’t make him his first mate even if Hampton had a lifetime of sea experience.

Besides, I like Sticks. I know, kill your darlings.

I’ve done more thinking on this than I probably should have. I’m quite sure the solution is very simple and I’m not seeing the forest for the trees. I did, however, come up with a few things that surprised me.

Gen wants to be a Far Rider with her aunt’s elite Horse Guard more than anything. It’s all she’s ever dreamed about. Her uncle is, or was, a hero until his reputation was ruined and he was murdered. Her aunt is a hero. Gen even knows her father is a hero even though he never talks about the war. Gen has no desire to be a hero, but she needs to be respected in a land where her father’s people are hated by many. She’s willing to die to earn respect.

Lucine has always had everything except the one thing she wants most. She’s an only child. Her parents are wealthy nobles. Her father arranged for every eligible young nobleman to meet her on her sixteenth birthday so she could choose a husband who would govern her lands for her. Unfortunately, Lucine doesn’t want a man ruling her or her lands, but her father insists a woman isn’t capable. He insisted that right up until she poisoned him at her birthday party. The one thing Lucine doesn’t have is respect, but she’s determined to get it regardless of how many people she has to kill.

How does this help me sort out the tangled plotlines? No idea. It does give me some insight as to how I need to approach a few things.

I think the next dissection needs to be me making a timeline with every named character. Are they necessary? Is there something I can do to streamline them and condense things?

Venting

2010-09-29T11:16:00.002-05:00

I am behind on posts. I’m sure no one noticed.

Let’s get something out of the way because, frankly, I am so pissed I want to go back to Odessa and beat someone or contact an old real estate client and ask him how much it will cost to have someone professionally beaten.

I paid well over $1,000 to hire people to help me pack and load the rental truck. That’s twice what I had budgeted and hoped I was over budgeting.

One man kept trying to stash things in the bushes, like my tools and my new tire for my car etc. Another man I had hired told me what was going on and this man’s son also said the first one was going through boxes in the truck. I’m sure that’s where my missing camera is. Will’s camera, rather, since he loaned it to me. Yes, it was a nice one.

I did make it to Oklahoma with most of my tools, but one box with my screwdrivers is gone. I had a very large, expensive collection of screwdrivers. My new tire also disappeared. I saw it sitting in the bushes and was going to pull it out so it wouldn’t get forgotten and someone hollered at me to come look at something and I forgot.

I really don’t like thieves. I paid most of the people except the old gentleman far more than I should have, but I was desperate and Cody and Aly were on their way. Looking back, I should have called them and told them to forget it. Unpacked the truck and stayed. When something starts out as bad as that did, it never turns out well.

When we were getting ready to pull out, there were still two sacks of trash that needed to be taken out and a few things to be picked up, but the rest of the apartment was clean. Aly had cleaned the kitchen top to bottom, including washing down walls.

The neighbor next door, the one whose roommate was a drag queen and won the Miss Gay West Texas title the first night of the packing adventure, kept telling me how much he appreciated the extra money and how he wished I wasn’t moving.

He said not to worry about the final cleanup and filling the nail holes etc. He’d do it since I had been so good to them and given them a $200 barbecue and some furniture etc.

I left another $40 anyway and Cody, unknown to me, also gave him $50.

I left the keys with him and asked him to drop them in the night drop when he finished cleaning.

Did you know that apartments charge $50 a bag to take out trash or that missing keys are worth $90? The party they apparently held after I left and trashed the apartment cost $700 to me and Will. Of course, that includes the $100 mirror someone stole off the bathroom wall.

So, not only does Will not get the $550 deposit he needs desperately, but I have another $150 to pay that I really can’t afford now.

Trusting the IT guy at work who was also my friend and always asked if I had baked cookies lately with Will’s computer he bought with his basic training check was a mistake. Joseph said it would be no problem to upgrade it for me. He knew how protective I was of the computer because it was special to Will. He ignored emails, letters, calls and even certified letters asking if I could pay him for basically storing the computer since he did nothing to it if I could just have it back.

I can chalk up things people do to me as experience. Live and learn. Don’t trust people. Be an ass and assume they are thieves going in. Yes, it’s taken a while, but I’m learning.

What makes me furious, however, is when they do it to my children. This is what makes me want to pawn whatever I have of value and hire someone to go visit people.

I’ve been working on this. I have to let it go, but it’s hard when you’re a parent.

I was praying about this a few days ago and got my message. “Forgive as you have been forgiven.”

It’s so easy to recognize the right thing to do. It’s just not easy doing the right thing.

Counting Blessings

2010-09-23T17:52:00.000-05:00

I am woefully behind on posts, as you all might have noticed. I wrote one about revision letters since a few of us in the Gnomies have received them lately and decided there have been several very good posts about that without me adding my two cents. I will say one thing, if a writer is fortunate enough to receive one, count it as a major blessing.

Which leads me to the topic du jour.

Blessings.

I’m not sure the move to Oklahoma was a mistake, but given some other things that happened, I probably should have delayed it. As it is, it’s renewing my walk in faith and I am one of those people who likes to see a long ways down the road. Walking the hidden paths makes me nervous.

Will called yesterday and Logan was in a very playful, talkative mood. Logan got on the phone and said “Hi” several times as well as, “Hi, Mamah (grandma), Looove you, one two one two,” and several other things. It just made my heart sing to hear his happy little voice. The one two routine was while he was walking down some steps. He apparently counts to two every time he goes up or down stairs.

Today, Will called again after the computer disaster (I got a virus and thought the way to fix it was to do a system restore, yeah, wrong) while he was in WalMart. Logan was once again in a very happy mood. He was telling Daddy what kind of food he wanted. It was amazing to hear him tick off the names of the food so plainly I could understand him in the background.

Count one blessing.

My writing friends. As I said before, some of us have received revision letters recently. It’s a tw0-edged blessing. The agent thought enough of your work to send you suggestions to improve it and asked you to resubmit. However, sometimes you look at it and think, “I’m not sure I know what to do.”

That’s when your friends step in and start tossing out ideas and advice. Somewhere in the brainstorming sessions, some really good ideas pop up. Donna, for instance needed to add some more layers and tension. I was astounded at some of the ideas that others came up with. I even came up with something Donna liked. Yay me!

The Gnomes bounced some things around for FR and it eventually led me to some things I think will work. Yay them!

For a writer, I don’t think there can be a bigger blessing than to have a talented, supportive writing group. I can honestly say I fully expect most, if not all of these women to be published at some point and I’ve become pretty picky about my reading. The only reason they won’t get published is if they stop writing.

Count two blessings.

Right now, the trailer is kind of a disaster with stacks of boxes and totes everywhere. Slowing things down is the pain, which has become worse. Walking up and down stairs isn’t easy and I live in a trailer with several steps to the porch.

On the plus side, I’ve been unpacking things and re-sorting those which need to remain packed so they are more organized. I still think someday I will have another home and I will have a place for all my useless treasures that bring me joy. For whatever reason, I also think at some point, my belongings will go in storage. It’s good to get things properly organized now. Of course, I would be pretty ecstatic if I could find my camera, which I’m positive is gone forever, or the cords to my dvd/stereo system, so I had some kind of noise in this little tomb.

The quiet times, when we are forced to wait when we’d rather be plowing ahead with our lives are good for rearranging and reflecting.

Count three blessings.

I watched a woman last week who spent the entire morning bemoaning the fact her child won an award at school and the child was afraid others would resent her. I wondered what kind of example she was setting for her children that they couldn’t concentrate on the bright side of life.

Life is so short. It’s far too short to count the problems when you could be counting the blessings.

I wonder if this man counts his blessings or his problems?

Avatar Action

2010-08-06T13:02:00.002-05:00

Awhile back, I did a post on social media. I think Twitter is a two-edged sword. If you're someone like @BethShope, it can be a great thing because she's just a class act at all times. If you're someone like me, it's probably not so great since I tend to be opinionated. As aspiring, published, or dead writers, we should strive to maintain a certain amount of decorum.

In a writer's chat a few weeks ago, I finally had to ask one woman what her avatar was. Bear in mind, this woman desperately wants to be published, don't we all, and she was actively engaging a number of agents. Even after I enlarged the avatar, I wasn't sure what it was, but it was unappealing.

"That's my stomach when I was pregnant with my son. I wasn't sure the tattoo around my navel was going to survive."

Here's a hint, avatars are a little thing, but that is the image you are putting out to the world. If you're a writer, you do things like have a professional email rather than Ihazbigboobs@something.dotcom. You don't have an automatic signature that says "Proud mommy of Jess, Tess, Fess, Les, Bess, and our weenie dogs Frank and Furter."

I know it seems like we ought to be able to have fun, but remember, you're trying to enter a very professional business.

Think about what your avatar says about you.

Here are a few I have used.

This was for international boobquake. Something to do with old hairstyles. Hat day!!!

And the rest are me with Otoes Gold because I miss him. Next is Otoes Gold as a yearling. The horse butts are kind of self-explanatory, but I put them up when I'm in a foul mood and being a horse's ass. Bonnie McCarroll was a famous lady bronc rider and I love this picture of her because I admire her and I used to ride bucking horses. The last picture is of Ryonstone Cowgirl, who was supposed to be my barrel horse. Beautiful mare we raised out of Five Of Cash, another of our mares. I'll go back to the bucking horse avatar soon.

Here are a few that are solid brand name avatars. You instantly recognize them and don't have to wonder who or what they are.

@PublishersWkly

@DelReySpectra

These are graphics that are just fun.

@GCPeditor

@VRWCTexan

@TyrusBooks

PublishingSpy

If someone follows me and they have the picture taken with them sitting down rolling their eyes up at the camera, I really want to barf. Princess Diana did it well, 99.9% of other people don't. It especially doesn't work when you have your rolled up eyes with what you think is a come hither look and your rolled down boobs with barely covered nipples. You aren't auditioning for Playboy, you're trying to present a professional writing image.

Yes, I admit that may be jealousy on my part that the only time I was able to master the rolled up eyes look is after getting bucked off a horse or cow, but trust me on this one.

I know you love your picture of your shaved weenie dog, curled up asleep, but to the rest of the world, it looks like a fetus.

If you're writing westerns or western romances, you don't need to run out and buy a cheap straw hat, you know, the ones with the spray painted edges and the rolled up brim so you can wear it and prove you're a cowgirl writer. Just be yourself. Your roll-your-own hat just makes most of us who do know the west laugh or puke. Neither is a good reaction.

@Kidell is the best example of a "hick-lit" ™ as she calls it, writer. I love her avatars. They are fun, real and professional or funny. Sometimes both!

@kidell

Here are some women's avatars I think are well-done using the photo approach.

@RachelleGardner

GloriousPaper

@jeffekennedy

tinastullracing

kendsyj

Kendsy isn't a writer, but isn't that a fun avatar? Tina isn't a writer either, but rather a race car driver!

Here are some men using photos also.

@steveweddle

@Airborne_Ranger

@USNAVYSEALS

@USMC

I think Steve's avatar is really a good one for a writer. It's a great shot of his face, it has some interesting features, like the dark glasses and it's professional looking.

Airborne_Ranger and USNAVYSEALS might be eye candy. I mean isn't that a good head shot and, of course, the beer is what makes the second shot with USNAVYSEALS. Actually, they are both just fun to screw around with and have fun personalities. Yeah, personalities, that's it.

Cartoons or artistic images work also.

@Janet_Reid

BeachHeadHerald

@just_some_lady

Some people are known by their avatars, and people complain when they change them. That's kind of a good thing. It means people recognize you in the Twitter world.

What image are you putting out for the world?

The Joss Whedon Character Analysis

2010-08-04T16:21:00.000-05:00

One thing people have always commented on is my characters. They are fun and stand out. To me, that is terribly important. I want to fall in love with the characters in a book.

I think someone who probably does the best characters ever is Joss Whedon. As you know, Will gave me the Firefly set before he moved. This is probably the best series ever for me.

Now look at that sweet face. Who would believe he could come up with something like reivers? Yeah, I have to be careful which episode I watch before I go to bed.

The writing is spectacular. The premise is fun and the characters are unforgettable.

I love all the characters, but Jayne is one of my favorites. He's also the one I hate.

That says something for the way the character was drawn. Here is this funny, kind of dense, big, brawny, good-looking man most women would lay out their last credit card for and yet he just makes me want to slap him at times. He can be really crude, which I don't like, but more than that, when he turns in River and Simon in to the Feds. His redeeming moment is when he tells the captain not to tell the truth about what he did when Mal is about to let him go for a dive off the Firefly.

For all his faults, he redeems himself at that point and he gets to go back to his bunk.

River can do anything. She literally a genius who can pick up anything almost instantaneously. She's also a very flawed individual. Her mind is broken. She is terrified. And then you see little glimpses of a happy girl shine through. Best. Character. Ever. Whedon plumbed the depths of the human spirit with this character.

That brings me to something I've been wrestling with for Gen. I have a real problem with perfect characters. Gen is pretty. She has long, light auburn hair, big, very unusual ice blue eyes, she has a smattering of freckles across her nose, she's small, athletic, and she's a musician, in addition to all that, she has an innate healing skill, but she hasn't learned how to use it. She's basically a good-hearted and generous person. She, like all M'Eiryn, has a natural gift with horses. They are horse people born to the land and nomadic until they settled with the Tamarls. There are also hints she may have an unusual magical ability no one has fathomed yet. Part way through the story, she comes in possession of a sword with a spirit. It's unknown if she will be the true keeper or if she's just part of the sword's journey.

There's a risk of her being just too, too special. She's small for her age and she's only fifteen when the book opens. Even though the only thing she dreams of is being a Far Rider, or courier, with her aunt's elite cavalry unit, she doesn't know how to fight. She gets hurt a lot. She's naturally a klutz. She's kind of scatterbrained and is perfectly happy chasing butterflies with kittens. She's indecisive. She knows she wants to join her aunt's cavalry, but she also wants to please her parents, so she wavers. She has a temper she tries to keep under control, but she isn't always successful. She has a knack for getting in trouble.

Her mother has spent the last year trying to get her interested in well-to-do merchant's sons in the hopes her tomboy daughter will settle down, marry well and live an easier life. Gentyl discourages them with a variety of disgusting tricks.

Oh, did I miss the part about her being very creative?

Perfect characters bore me. Evil muahahahaha characters bore me, unless it's Vordak the Evil.

For every awesome trait a character has, I try to give them something that tarnishes the shine a bit.

My rule breaker, so far, is Baroness Lucine Chastain. She is evil personified and she enjoys it. At some time a glimpse of her soft side will show through, but she is a true psychopath. What's even more disturbing is I pulled much of her personality from a real person.

Even the demon lord Erokath has a softer side. He doesn't normally enjoy torture for the sake of torture. He likes cats. He enjoys good food and sex…a lot. He doesn't bat an eye at destroying an entire, gifted and ancient religious order. It's just something that needs to be done.

Perfect characters, good or bad, turn me off very quickly. I've read one author, no I'm not naming him or her, a few times because they were highly recommended. Plot of book goes something like this. Fearless team is off on another mission. Evil RAWR forces are trying to kill them. They get into a fight where, invariably buxom member of good guy team is either fighting 40 men in armor naked or someone rips all her clothes off during the fight so she is naked and still defeats the unwashed, but fully armored masses.

Three attempts were enough. I won't buy another one of them.

The secret, to me, of realistic characters is the balance between good and bad. They all have secrets. They have faults and strong points. They feel. They grow.

They are someone you might know.

If anyone really wants to learn how to write interesting characters, I think spending a lot of time with Whedon's characters is a good start. Don't copy them, but study them. See what makes them tick. See how he reveals their secrets. They, like all good characters, are like onions. You peel on layer back and find another one.

From Beer Runs to Rocking Chairs

2010-07-31T13:04:00.007-05:00

July was a bad month for a variety of reasons. If it could go wrong, it pretty much did. Now that the bombing is over, it’s time to start digging out of the rubble.

Oops, another bomb.

Yesterday I stopped in at the office because they left a note on my door saying my lease was up for renewal. I signed it in December which means it should renew in December. For whatever reason, they put me on an eight month lease. No, the guy I talked to had no idea why. No, they don’t have eight-month leases.

One of the managers came out of her office and explained that they have a matrix. They have to stagger the leases so not too many of one style come up for rent at one time.

Excuse me? Does that mean everyone in this huge complex moved in on the same month?

I told her that didn’t even make sense. We have had this apt for three years and it’s always been December.

Oh, well, you put in a notice to vacate early once so that no longer matters.

And I rescinded it, leaving the original lease intact.

I didn’t even initial this handwritten date on the lease where it was put to August instead of December. Everything else is typed in and this was handwritten, does that seem odd?

No, it’s done like that all the time.

The other leases weren’t.

Well, your lease is up in August.

I do intend to file complaints with the owner of the company and the apartment association, but for now, I’m just getting ready to move…in a hurry.

Right turn. Sharp.

Will had convinced me to set up an Ebay story to sell some rope bowls and I had come up with the brainstorm of making steampunk goggles. The glory of this plan is I can work on them when I feel good. I can wrap myself up in my electric blanket when my body is on a tirade and, if I am really not feeling well, I can just take some meds and go back to bed. There are also days I just crank back on the couch or in bed and do stuff. It’s hard to do that with a regular job.

I located some goggles I really like for the base and a wonderful assortment of wood veneers and gears.

Obviously, that goes on the back burner as I have 30 days to be packed and ready to go.

When I was young and dumb, I used to always carry two sets of clothes in my truck, extra personal hygiene stuff like towels, toothbrush, toothpaste soap etc.

There was a reason for this. Someone might say something like, “I’m broke. Let’s make a beer run.”

Back then, beer run had a different meaning. It meant we’d pool our money, grab a pickup and go to the nearest Wyoming town we could find and stock up on Coors beer, which wasn’t sold in Montana at the time. We usually stayed in Wyoming and partied for a while before returning. Then we headed back to Montana, spread the word we had Coors and voila, spending money and a good party to boot.

In those days it was just good to be prepared because travel could happen at the drop of a hat and I always wore a hat.

As I aged, I developed a strong attachment to roots. I don’t like moving. I don’t like change. I want to know exactly what I’m going to do and where I’m going to be.

I thought I had finally settled on a life plan.

Get the surgeries done and get back in shape.

Take the Mavis Beacon typing course to improve my skills and speen.

Take an Excel course to improve my proficiency with that.

Take a ten key course.

Those would improve my skills and make me more attractive to apply for some jobs in Afghanistan.

Work in Afghanistan for two or three years. Save up money and come home, buy a house and sink down roots for the last time. I'd have a shop to build furniture and carve rocking horses. I could piddle around with some steampunk designs. I'd build rocking chairs out of old pallets. Life would be good.

Since I wouldn’t be traveling much in Afghanistan, that would give me lots of time to write at night.

Ta da! Perfect plan.

I’ve been praying lately for God to take control of my life. I have to believe He has. I’m not crazy about moving somewhere I hadn’t planned on moving to without even knowing if I can get a job, but I have to trust.

Let's Mosey Down and Breed Them All

2010-07-28T14:34:00.002-05:00

There’s an old joke about two bulls standing on a hill, looking down at a herd of cows. The young bull says, “Let’s run down and breed a couple of those cute cows.” The old bull replies, “Let’s mosey down and breed them all.”

A couple of years ago, a new writer joined a writer’s group I belong to. She was young, enthusiastic and filled to the brim with confidence. She had some writing talent, but it was pretty raw and often her submissions set my teeth on edge. When the rest of us critiqued her work, she either became defensive about it or pretty much ignored our suggestions. I think she did take some advice, but, for the most part, I thought it was a waste of time to give any constructive criticism.

She poo pooed the idea that queries were hard to write. Not for her. She loved writing queries. Synopsis? No problem, they were a snap.

She had, if I remember right, twelve projects she was working on. All of us old fogies suggested she pick one work and stay with it. She couldn’t do that because she had so many wonderful stories fighting to get out. I told her to jot down her ideas for future work and then go back to work on her main WIP.

I can almost hear her trilling laugh when she read that. “Oh, you wouldn’t understand. I have to work on them all as the muse strikes me.”

In other words, how could I, a mere mortal, understand what it feels like to have more than one brilliant idea at a time? I have three WIPs now. For me, the other two projects are what I work on when I’m so frustrated with main pain I want to toss it in the trash. I work on something else while my subconscious works on the problem child and then *poof* the answer pops up.

Oddly enough, I think most writers have more than one story simmering at a time. A writer’s mind hears or sees something and it triggers the “what if” syndrome. What if that interesting looking lady over there were a spy who was hiding information at the bottom of that pile of apples she’s digging through?

That’s how DANCING HORSES came about. I read a news article about wealthy jumpers, including an Olympic rider, who were paying to have their horses murdered for the insurance money. I took it a step further. Would it be possible to do the same to cutting horses? Why would someone do it? How would a person find out? What would the real reason be for a wealthy person to have these champion horses murdered? All the whats and whos and whys turned into an interesting cowboy suspense.

But, back to Miss Sunshine and Rainbows.

It’s been a while so I may be off on this, but one of her speeches was to the effect that she would make the NYT best seller list (I distinctly remember her saying this) because she had a vision and unlike us, she wasn’t going to give up on it until she made it. This affirmation came about because some of us old warhorses, advised slowing down, perfecting her craft and being realistic about her goals. We were doomed to failure and defeat because we just didn’t believe hard enough. Poor Tink.

I’m a firm believer in the power of positive thinking. Read some of the stories about Vietnam POWs who were kept in tiny cages and returned home improved athletes. Many of them, to preserve their sanity, imagined playing golf or baseball for hours on end, day after day. They envisioned themselves making perfect catches, hits and swings in their mind until it was engrained.

Gary Leffew was a world champion bullrider and is a well known rodeo coach. He didn’t grow up on a ranch. He didn’t start out mutton busting. He was a long-haired hippy. He went to a rodeo with some friends and someone dared him to get on a bull. He did and he was hooked. Being hooked, and hooked by bulls, isn’t enough, however.

He was getting cow killed just about every time he got on. My husband traveled with him for a long time. Don said Gary started reading everything he could about positive thinking and training your mind. Gary was probably one of the first rodeo cowboys to actually apply a scientific approach to riding.

He backed up the mind training with body training and lots of perfect practice.

Practice. Practice. Practice.

There’s a little caveat that should go behind that. Perfect practice. If you practice doing something wrong over and over, you’re still not going to improve.

So, as writers, we have to keep a positive mental attitude, but we also have to keep one foot firmly planted on the ground. Sending out a query letter stating you are going to be the next Tolkien isn’t going to impress anyone. Believe it all you want, but remember actions speak louder than words. Don’t tell people you’re a great writer, show them.

Slow down and learn your craft. Never stop learning. Practice doing it right.

Stay out of the "House of Pain" by learning to do it right.

We need to set goals as writers. Break the bigger goals down into smaller, achievable goals. Take your time and build your foundation, one block at a time. It's possible you may have a New York Times best seller, but it's going to take more than believing. The believing has to be back up with a whole lot of baby steps to get there.

Instead of running down the hill to breed a few cuties, let’s mosey down and breed them all.