Most of my writing is pretty clear cut. Since I write mostly for "tweens" ( ages 10-13), there aren't many subplots, maybe one or two, but that's all.
In my new WIP, however, subplots abound. To the point that I've realized that some things need to be changed, rewritten entirely, or perhaps even eliminated. More work, and I haven't even finished the first draft. However, if I don't get those subplots under control, that first draft is going to be one major mess to edit and revise.
Subplots have always kind of defeated me, in that I've never been entirely sure just how to work them in and get them to the end of the story, all tied up in one nice, neat, and logically concluded package. Now, however, I've learned of a new way to think of subplots, and it's beginning to make more sense to me.
How is that? To think of your subplots as threads, instead of subplots. Think of a piece of clothing: the material is made up of threads, right? Each thread has a purpose, but the end result is a solid piece of material. Thus, each thread is singular and important, but eventually comes together and meets every other thread to form a whole piece. Of material, that is.
So, first of all, you have to identify your plot threads. This shouldn't be hard to do, because first of all, any time an event happens that makes the reader want to know "what happens next," that event becomes a thread. Let me give you an example from my WIP: Zahra is talking to Henri. That in itself is not an event, but when Henri hands a note ot Zahra and her face pales when she read it, that becomes a thread. And you as the writer must follow that thread to the end. What does the note say? Why does she turn pale when she reads it? What will happen next?
You need to go through your novel page by page to find those little things you have happening to your characters that don't really count as major issues. When they don't count as major, they still can become important to the story as threads...better known in the past as subplots.
The next thing to do is to count everything you think can be a thread. Events aren't the only things that can be counted as a thread. Suppose your MC is afraid of something happening or not happening: you can't just leave that up in the air, you have to work her fears, whatever they are, into the story and put them to rest, one way or another. Thus, you have another thread...or more, as the case may be, because her fears, or even her thoughts if they can have consequences, become threads. Each of these threads has a life of its own, a purpose, but in the end, it must come together with each of the other threads to combine into a whole. A whole and complete story, that is.
We already know that a simple, straightforeward story line is just that...simple, and usually uncomplicated. Great for a younger kid's book, but totally unacceptable for MG, YA, or adult books. If you are writing an adult book, multiple threads, as in 9, 10, 11, are fine, and intriguing...if you can keep them all straight, don't intertwine them together into a stranglehold, and can keep them going logicall until the conclusion of your story.
If you are writing MG/YA, you had better keep those threads to no more than 5 or 6, and make very sure that they all come together at the end, with no split ends flying around. Kids of any age HATE that, and probably won't ever pick up another book by you, just for that reason.
For all threads, but especially in adult writing where you might have 8 or 9 or even more, you must make sure each thread connects to your main plot. If the note Henri gave to Zahra has no impact on the overall storyline, and it's just a little love note she wasn't expecting, so she tears it up and that's the end of that, it is not a thread because it doesn't connect to the overall story. However, this example comes from my WIP, and the note absolutely has something important to do with the story, so therefore it IS an independent thread. My problem, therefore, is to make sure I can weave this thread into the basic fabric of my story at the end, to become the complete "garment."
With all your threads, you must do just that: make sure they fit into the fabric of your story, and can be woven into the final design.
If you find you have 'threads' that go nowhere and connect with nothing, you must delete them. Yes, no matter how beautifully written they are, no matter how they glow as independent thoughts or events or even characters, you must kill your darlings off if they don't fit properly into your story. If these threads are fly-by-night wisps of fuzz, then GET RID OF THEM!!
When you ferret out all of these threads, you must understand which ones relate to one another, and will eventually interweave into the final fabric of your story. If they don't do this, they will eventually unravel, and you will have exposed threads hanging out of your completed storyline. Then it will be too late to snip them off.
Confusing? Not really. Substitute the word "subplot" if you must every where I've used thread.It still works. Well, maybe not as an anology for fabric, but no matter what words you use, the idea is still the same: continuity of plot lines, or threads, is very important to your story, and in the end, everything must come together logically so the conclusion of the story is understood, and nothing is left hanging out. Or fuzzy. Or flying around.
Now I must leave you, and go searching for all those threads in my WIP that I'm sure are VERY important to the overall storyline...or not.
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
Subscribe To
Posts
All Comments
Thursday, March 13, 2014
Friday, March 7, 2014
Friday's Focus: Personal: Shattered Lives, Shattered Dreams
They stood huddled together, arms around each other for support, for love, for sharing. One man stood apart, looking at them. Strangely, tears were running down the pale cheeks of the group before him: wife, son, mother, stepfather.
The group had been there for a long time, standing at what seemed to be the edge of the world. They were looking up into the sky. A rainbow shimmered where the sky kissed the earth. It hovered for a while, bringing hope that fluttered back and forth like a fragile butterfly.
Now, the rainbow quivered, and sank below the horizon as black clouds filled the sky. Hope, like the butterfly, was gone.
The group turned, as one, and looked at the solitary man. He took a step forward into the long black tunnel that beckoned him. He smiled because he didn't know, didn't understand that the tunnel had no end, no return.
No cure. No treatment. Those words had pierced the hearts of these people for many months, as they waited patiently, hopefully, for new theories to come forth, new medicines to be discovered. None came. And the words continued to bounce back and forth, almost like a dodge ball game. Except this was no game, this was life. His life.
The man took another step into the tunnel. The group cried out to him, to no avail. Now, he did not know them, did not remember the life he once had. He stepped deeper into the tunnel, not knowing, not understanding this was a journey from which he would not return, and one that he would travel alone.
The journey is almost over. The tunnel has been long, dark, desolate. Those he will leave behind have nothing left now but their memories: the mother remembers a small, laughing, inquisitive boy: the stepfather remembers a young man with an exciting future, the wife remembers a loving husband; and the son remembers a close and warm relationship with a loving father.
Shattered lives, shattered dreams.
My heart cries. He... is my son.
The group had been there for a long time, standing at what seemed to be the edge of the world. They were looking up into the sky. A rainbow shimmered where the sky kissed the earth. It hovered for a while, bringing hope that fluttered back and forth like a fragile butterfly.
Now, the rainbow quivered, and sank below the horizon as black clouds filled the sky. Hope, like the butterfly, was gone.
The group turned, as one, and looked at the solitary man. He took a step forward into the long black tunnel that beckoned him. He smiled because he didn't know, didn't understand that the tunnel had no end, no return.
No cure. No treatment. Those words had pierced the hearts of these people for many months, as they waited patiently, hopefully, for new theories to come forth, new medicines to be discovered. None came. And the words continued to bounce back and forth, almost like a dodge ball game. Except this was no game, this was life. His life.
The man took another step into the tunnel. The group cried out to him, to no avail. Now, he did not know them, did not remember the life he once had. He stepped deeper into the tunnel, not knowing, not understanding this was a journey from which he would not return, and one that he would travel alone.
The journey is almost over. The tunnel has been long, dark, desolate. Those he will leave behind have nothing left now but their memories: the mother remembers a small, laughing, inquisitive boy: the stepfather remembers a young man with an exciting future, the wife remembers a loving husband; and the son remembers a close and warm relationship with a loving father.
Shattered lives, shattered dreams.
My heart cries. He... is my son.
Friday, February 28, 2014
Friday's Focus: Finding Filler Phrases and Words
Since I just finished the final edits for my novel coming out in April, and am in the midst of editing my still-unfinished WIP, I thought I would talk a little about those pesky "filler words/phrases" that we all use, and shouldn't.
A filler phrase is the phrase you begin ( usually) a sentence with, that shows the reader what is going on. However, you are doing it through the eyes of the main character...again, usually.
When you use filler phrases, you are taking the reader out of the action of the story, and making her visualize what is happening, instead of showing her what is happening.
Let's talk about a few of these filler words:
1. to see: I saw the truck run the red light, scattering pedestrians. Without "I saw:" The truck ran the red light, scattering pedestrians onto the sidewalks. You are in the action here, rather than trying to visualize it through someone else's mind.
2. to hear: I heard the sound of glass shattering, and I knew someone had broken in downstairs. Here there are three different filler words in one sentence: I heard, the sound, and I knew. Without these filler words: The glass shattered, breaking the night's silence. Someone was downstairs.
3. to realize: She realized there was no turning back, she had no choice but to continue on alone. Without "she realized:" There was no turning back, and no choice left but to continue on alone. However, in this sentence is also the phrase "there was", another of those You can do without phrases. So you could say, She had no choice left but to continue on alone, and do without the "no turning back" phrase.
4. to seem or seem like: It seemed like the class went on forever, and I noticed the professor never stopped talking long enough to answer a question. Without "it seemed like" and "I noticed:" The class went on forever, and the professor never stopped talking long enough to answer a single question.
These are just a few of the filler words and phrases we all use in our writing, and should do without. Listed below are some filler words to watch out for. Add others that you have found to this list.
** to see
** to hear
** to touch
** to sound or sound like
** to realize
** to seem or seem like
** to be able to
** to look or look like or look for
** to feel or feel like
** to notice
** to decide
** to watch
** to listen to or listen for (This is sometimes necessary to the content of the sentence, but not always. Think of other ways to express your meaning before using it. Ex: She listened for his whistle, knowing it meant she was safe. His whistle came softly through the night air. She was safe.)
Remember that any and all tenses of these words count, too. We all use them, and think nothing of it, but if you go through your manuscript line by line, you'll find them. Once you do, try different ways of writing that sentence without using the phrase. You probably will be pleasantly surprised. I know I was, and I give all the credit to my line editor who found those fillers for me...and oh yes, a thousand or so "commas" that I didn't need!
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
A filler phrase is the phrase you begin ( usually) a sentence with, that shows the reader what is going on. However, you are doing it through the eyes of the main character...again, usually.
When you use filler phrases, you are taking the reader out of the action of the story, and making her visualize what is happening, instead of showing her what is happening.
Let's talk about a few of these filler words:
1. to see: I saw the truck run the red light, scattering pedestrians. Without "I saw:" The truck ran the red light, scattering pedestrians onto the sidewalks. You are in the action here, rather than trying to visualize it through someone else's mind.
2. to hear: I heard the sound of glass shattering, and I knew someone had broken in downstairs. Here there are three different filler words in one sentence: I heard, the sound, and I knew. Without these filler words: The glass shattered, breaking the night's silence. Someone was downstairs.
3. to realize: She realized there was no turning back, she had no choice but to continue on alone. Without "she realized:" There was no turning back, and no choice left but to continue on alone. However, in this sentence is also the phrase "there was", another of those You can do without phrases. So you could say, She had no choice left but to continue on alone, and do without the "no turning back" phrase.
4. to seem or seem like: It seemed like the class went on forever, and I noticed the professor never stopped talking long enough to answer a question. Without "it seemed like" and "I noticed:" The class went on forever, and the professor never stopped talking long enough to answer a single question.
These are just a few of the filler words and phrases we all use in our writing, and should do without. Listed below are some filler words to watch out for. Add others that you have found to this list.
** to see
** to hear
** to touch
** to sound or sound like
** to realize
** to seem or seem like
** to be able to
** to look or look like or look for
** to feel or feel like
** to notice
** to decide
** to watch
** to listen to or listen for (This is sometimes necessary to the content of the sentence, but not always. Think of other ways to express your meaning before using it. Ex: She listened for his whistle, knowing it meant she was safe. His whistle came softly through the night air. She was safe.)
Remember that any and all tenses of these words count, too. We all use them, and think nothing of it, but if you go through your manuscript line by line, you'll find them. Once you do, try different ways of writing that sentence without using the phrase. You probably will be pleasantly surprised. I know I was, and I give all the credit to my line editor who found those fillers for me...and oh yes, a thousand or so "commas" that I didn't need!
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
Friday, February 14, 2014
Friday's Focus: Valentine's Day is Not Just About Roses, Kisses, and Candy
Today is Valentine's Day, a day of romance, sweet-versed cards, hugs and kisses, red roses, and chocolates in lavish heart-shaped boxes.
Yes, it's all that, and more. How many of you know how "Valentine's Day" came about? Here's a bit of history about that day:
In or about the years of 270 A.D. Rome was ruled by an emperor named Claudius the Cruel. Under his rule, Rome was always involved in bloody campaigns, quite unpopular with the Roman people. He was having trouble maintaining a strong military because the younger men refused to join up. Claudius decided that was because the young men were either married or wanted to get married, so he issued a ban on all marriages and engagements.
A young priest by the name of Valentine realized the injustice of such a decree, and continued to marry young lovers in secret. When Claudius finally discovered what was going on, and what this holy priest was doing, he ordered Valentine's capture. This caused such an uprising in the populace that he decided to have him executed to get rid of the problem permanently. On the 14th of February, 278 A.D., Valentine was beaten to death with clubs and then beheaded. Legend has it that the daughter of one of his jailers become his lover in prison, and he left her a note of farewell, signing it "from your Valentine."
Because of his great service and sacrifice for the young people of Rome, he was awarded sainthood after his death. However, there are many legends about the exact origin and identity of St.Valentine, since in the Catholic encyclopedia, there are at least three different St. Valentines, all of them martyrs. The legend of this St.Valentine may have been connected to the Feast of Lupercalia, which was a pagan festival of love. In 496 A.D., Pope Gelasius put an end to the Feast of Lupercalia, and declared February 14 be celebrated as St.Valentine's Day.
Then, of course, we have the famously infamous St. Valentine's Day Massacre. On the 14th of February, 1929, four men dressed as police officers walked into the headquarters of gangster George (Bugs, Bugsy) Moran and brutally shot to death seven of his henchment. This was the culmination of a long, on-going war between the criminal gangs of Al Capone and Bugs Moran during the 1920's. Moran and Capone fought over the control of bootlegging, smuggling, and trafficing operations in Chicago for many years. Both had survived several murder attempts.
On February 14th, Moran arrived late at his headquarters to supervise a liquor delivery. He happened to see four men whom he believed to be the police walk into his headquarters, so he hid outside, thinking this was nothing but a police raid. However, inside these assassins were murdering seven of his best men.
Everyone in the city knew that Capone had ordered the kill, but no one could prove it. He was never arrested nor convicted for these seven murders, but this was the last confrontation between Capone and Moran. Moran had lost his seven best officers, and lost control of his gang. Capone was sent to prison for other crimes in 1931, and Moran died in Leavenworth Federal Prison in 1967, also for other crimes not connected to the Valentine's Day Massacre.
A little heavy for this day of fun and romance? Okay, how about this:
On February 14th, 1886, the very first trainload of oranges grown in Southern California left Los Angeles via the Transcontinental Railroad. In 1848, when the US took control over California from the Mexicans, Anglo-Americans saw this area of California as a great place to begin growing produce, and the orange orchards began taking over. Southern California began growing at an amazing rate, as more and more people came there to live, ranch, and farm. The sweetness and viability of California oranges became known all over the US, and in 1886, the first trainload left to begin a nation-wide delivery system of California-grown oranges.
Or This:
In the Middle Ages, young men and women would reach into a huge bowl full of names, set down in the town square. When they drew a name out, this person became their "valentine" for a week. During that week, each person had to wear the name of his or her valentine on their sleeve. This is how the expression "wearing your heart on your sleeve"...to indicate your feelings about someone...came about.
Or This:
Richard Cadbury, of the famous Cadbury Chocolates, invented the very first heart-shaped candy box to hold his chocolates, and released these boxes on February 14, 1887.
HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, EVERYONE! I wish you all much love, many kisses, beautiful roses, and an over-abundance of chocolates!
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
Yes, it's all that, and more. How many of you know how "Valentine's Day" came about? Here's a bit of history about that day:
In or about the years of 270 A.D. Rome was ruled by an emperor named Claudius the Cruel. Under his rule, Rome was always involved in bloody campaigns, quite unpopular with the Roman people. He was having trouble maintaining a strong military because the younger men refused to join up. Claudius decided that was because the young men were either married or wanted to get married, so he issued a ban on all marriages and engagements.
A young priest by the name of Valentine realized the injustice of such a decree, and continued to marry young lovers in secret. When Claudius finally discovered what was going on, and what this holy priest was doing, he ordered Valentine's capture. This caused such an uprising in the populace that he decided to have him executed to get rid of the problem permanently. On the 14th of February, 278 A.D., Valentine was beaten to death with clubs and then beheaded. Legend has it that the daughter of one of his jailers become his lover in prison, and he left her a note of farewell, signing it "from your Valentine."
Because of his great service and sacrifice for the young people of Rome, he was awarded sainthood after his death. However, there are many legends about the exact origin and identity of St.Valentine, since in the Catholic encyclopedia, there are at least three different St. Valentines, all of them martyrs. The legend of this St.Valentine may have been connected to the Feast of Lupercalia, which was a pagan festival of love. In 496 A.D., Pope Gelasius put an end to the Feast of Lupercalia, and declared February 14 be celebrated as St.Valentine's Day.
Then, of course, we have the famously infamous St. Valentine's Day Massacre. On the 14th of February, 1929, four men dressed as police officers walked into the headquarters of gangster George (Bugs, Bugsy) Moran and brutally shot to death seven of his henchment. This was the culmination of a long, on-going war between the criminal gangs of Al Capone and Bugs Moran during the 1920's. Moran and Capone fought over the control of bootlegging, smuggling, and trafficing operations in Chicago for many years. Both had survived several murder attempts.
On February 14th, Moran arrived late at his headquarters to supervise a liquor delivery. He happened to see four men whom he believed to be the police walk into his headquarters, so he hid outside, thinking this was nothing but a police raid. However, inside these assassins were murdering seven of his best men.
Everyone in the city knew that Capone had ordered the kill, but no one could prove it. He was never arrested nor convicted for these seven murders, but this was the last confrontation between Capone and Moran. Moran had lost his seven best officers, and lost control of his gang. Capone was sent to prison for other crimes in 1931, and Moran died in Leavenworth Federal Prison in 1967, also for other crimes not connected to the Valentine's Day Massacre.
A little heavy for this day of fun and romance? Okay, how about this:
On February 14th, 1886, the very first trainload of oranges grown in Southern California left Los Angeles via the Transcontinental Railroad. In 1848, when the US took control over California from the Mexicans, Anglo-Americans saw this area of California as a great place to begin growing produce, and the orange orchards began taking over. Southern California began growing at an amazing rate, as more and more people came there to live, ranch, and farm. The sweetness and viability of California oranges became known all over the US, and in 1886, the first trainload left to begin a nation-wide delivery system of California-grown oranges.
Or This:
In the Middle Ages, young men and women would reach into a huge bowl full of names, set down in the town square. When they drew a name out, this person became their "valentine" for a week. During that week, each person had to wear the name of his or her valentine on their sleeve. This is how the expression "wearing your heart on your sleeve"...to indicate your feelings about someone...came about.
Or This:
Richard Cadbury, of the famous Cadbury Chocolates, invented the very first heart-shaped candy box to hold his chocolates, and released these boxes on February 14, 1887.
HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, EVERYONE! I wish you all much love, many kisses, beautiful roses, and an over-abundance of chocolates!
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Monday's Musings: A Touch of Romance
Today is February 10, just four days away from Valentine's Day. And I know some of you are going to say, why write about Romance before Valentine's Day?
Simple: Romance is an act, a state of mind, a thought, a memory, a touch, a kiss, a gift, virtually most anything you want to make it. Valentine's Day isn't the only day or time of year where Romance can take place.
What is Romantic? I guess to a lot of women, it is the thought behind a special gift from a husband or boyfriend; it's being taken out to dinner to a very special, and usually, expensive restaurant...not just on Valentine's Day, but on a birthday or anniversary. My husband does that, we have a wonderful restaurant we love to go to, but it is very expensive and so he takes me there on "special occasions," like my birthday, our anniversary, and always on Valentine's Day.
To me, Romance comes in all sizes, shapes, and flavors! When I'm away from the house, shopping, taking my daughter-in-law to lunch, meeting with teachers to plan school visits, whatever, my husband calls me on my cell phone just to say hi, how are things going, and "I miss you." Now, that's Romantic.
We've been married for 35 years, a second marriage for both of us, so we were not young kids when we got married. But from day one, every time my husband has introduced me to someone, he says, "This is my lovely wife, Mikki." That's Romantic!
We built our lives together on a ranch out in the middle of nowhere, breeding, raising, and training Appaloosa horses for the show ring. The first few years were difficult, as I was still teaching at the university, and he was a manager in AeroSpace. He left for work at five o'clock in the morning, I fed and watered the horses, and had to get ready to leave for school by six am. It was rough, especially since we didn't normally get in from working with the horses until 9:30 or 10:00 at night. So on Saturday and Sunday mornings, he got up and fixed breakfast for us, and he never missed a weekend! That's Romantic.
I know some women who think it's Romantic for their husbands to clean their own bathrooms, and put the toliet seat down...I can go along with that! Yep, that's one expression of Romance!
When we retired, and moved to the Central Coast of California, I returned to my passion for writing. My husband made it a point to continue to fix breakfast for me, but he went further by also cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, and doing ALL the vacuuming and mopping of floors every single week. He always answered the phone so that I didn't have to stop what I was doing on the computer, and he made sure it was an important call before he disturbed me in the office. He claimed he was just doing his "share," but the truth is, he was making sure I had all the time I needed or wanted to write. Romantic? Oh, yes!
I recently had my first book published in November of 2013. I had a small launch party, and my husband said he wanted to introduce me. Of course, I thought the introduction would be brief and to the point, but it wasn't. He gave practically my whole life story, and emphasized the fact that I wasn't "just" an author ( in no way was being an author a "just" to me!), but also an artist, a musician, and a great wife, mother, and grandmother. It was a complete surprise to me, and my ears were burning off by the time he finished, but...was it Romantic? I thought it was one of the most Romantic things he had ever done for me.
The point I'm making is that "Romance" doesn't have to come in a pretty gift, or an expensive night out on the town, or even a touching verse on a Valentine's Day card. Romance can be, and I think, should be, an everyday occurance. It's in the little things we do for the husband or wife we love, the glances we give to each other from time to time during the day, the hand-holding as we take a walk, and the sweet, even if brief, kiss we give as one of us goes out the door. My husband and I are more in love today than the day we exchanged our vows, and I would hope that all of you are, also.
What are the things that you considered Romantic about your spouse?
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
Simple: Romance is an act, a state of mind, a thought, a memory, a touch, a kiss, a gift, virtually most anything you want to make it. Valentine's Day isn't the only day or time of year where Romance can take place.
What is Romantic? I guess to a lot of women, it is the thought behind a special gift from a husband or boyfriend; it's being taken out to dinner to a very special, and usually, expensive restaurant...not just on Valentine's Day, but on a birthday or anniversary. My husband does that, we have a wonderful restaurant we love to go to, but it is very expensive and so he takes me there on "special occasions," like my birthday, our anniversary, and always on Valentine's Day.
To me, Romance comes in all sizes, shapes, and flavors! When I'm away from the house, shopping, taking my daughter-in-law to lunch, meeting with teachers to plan school visits, whatever, my husband calls me on my cell phone just to say hi, how are things going, and "I miss you." Now, that's Romantic.
We've been married for 35 years, a second marriage for both of us, so we were not young kids when we got married. But from day one, every time my husband has introduced me to someone, he says, "This is my lovely wife, Mikki." That's Romantic!
We built our lives together on a ranch out in the middle of nowhere, breeding, raising, and training Appaloosa horses for the show ring. The first few years were difficult, as I was still teaching at the university, and he was a manager in AeroSpace. He left for work at five o'clock in the morning, I fed and watered the horses, and had to get ready to leave for school by six am. It was rough, especially since we didn't normally get in from working with the horses until 9:30 or 10:00 at night. So on Saturday and Sunday mornings, he got up and fixed breakfast for us, and he never missed a weekend! That's Romantic.
I know some women who think it's Romantic for their husbands to clean their own bathrooms, and put the toliet seat down...I can go along with that! Yep, that's one expression of Romance!
When we retired, and moved to the Central Coast of California, I returned to my passion for writing. My husband made it a point to continue to fix breakfast for me, but he went further by also cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, and doing ALL the vacuuming and mopping of floors every single week. He always answered the phone so that I didn't have to stop what I was doing on the computer, and he made sure it was an important call before he disturbed me in the office. He claimed he was just doing his "share," but the truth is, he was making sure I had all the time I needed or wanted to write. Romantic? Oh, yes!
I recently had my first book published in November of 2013. I had a small launch party, and my husband said he wanted to introduce me. Of course, I thought the introduction would be brief and to the point, but it wasn't. He gave practically my whole life story, and emphasized the fact that I wasn't "just" an author ( in no way was being an author a "just" to me!), but also an artist, a musician, and a great wife, mother, and grandmother. It was a complete surprise to me, and my ears were burning off by the time he finished, but...was it Romantic? I thought it was one of the most Romantic things he had ever done for me.
The point I'm making is that "Romance" doesn't have to come in a pretty gift, or an expensive night out on the town, or even a touching verse on a Valentine's Day card. Romance can be, and I think, should be, an everyday occurance. It's in the little things we do for the husband or wife we love, the glances we give to each other from time to time during the day, the hand-holding as we take a walk, and the sweet, even if brief, kiss we give as one of us goes out the door. My husband and I are more in love today than the day we exchanged our vows, and I would hope that all of you are, also.
What are the things that you considered Romantic about your spouse?
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
Friday, January 17, 2014
Friday's Focus: Do Writers Help or Hinder In The Real World?
The first question going through your mind about now is, help or hinder what? Well, I'm coming to that, but be patient, it may take awhile.
This morning I read about two 4 year old first cousins. They were playing in a back bedroom of a home in which the only adult present was their grandfather. I assume he was babysitting. One of the 4year olds, a girl, peered under the bed and found a rifle, loaded, laying in an open box. She pulled it out from under the bed, pointed it at her 4 year old boy cousin, and pulled the trigger. In a nightmarish instant, one child was dead, one was guilty of killing him.
Why was there a loaded rifle under the bed in the room where the children were allowed to play? Why was the rifle loaded, no matter where it might have been? Why was the rifle accessable to these children, in any way, shape, or form? All very legitimate questions, undoubted asked by the police officers called to the home. And another question: I have used rifles before, and they are heavy weapons. How was this 4 year old child even able to lift it high enough to point it at her cousin?
But perhaps an even more legitimate question would be, why would a 4 year old girl know how to point a rifle at someone and then pull the trigger? She wasn't born knowing this. Who taught her? A parent? Grandparent? TV, movies, violent video games...all of which she should not have been allowed to watch or play, if indeed they might have been the culprits. Who taught this child, barely beyond being a toddler, how to kill someone, no matter how accidental it may have been?
No...this is not from a novel or movie or TV script. This is real life. So how do we as writers fit into all of this nightmare of reality? I can't answer that question, which is why I'm asking it. When we write about life's realities, not as non-fiction but as fiction, are we helping in real life, or are we hindering it? Some writers say, if we write about the problems in life that children/teens face on a daily basis, it will show them they are not alone, and it will provide them with ways to escape.
I'm thinking of one author in particular who writes beautiful books about girls' problems, like anorexia, cutting, and cyber bullying. I am a great fan of hers and of her books. But is she helping teen girls to understand their problems, and showing them a way out? Or is she giving them false hope about a method of escaping that could never happen to them in their real-life circumstances?
If one of us wrote about this real life incident above, how would we deal with it? We couldn't change the outcome...although, yes, in fiction we could...but suppose we wrote a novel and used the entire incident as the plot. What would we offer in this novel that could, possibly, have changed the outcome? Would we make the parents, the grandfather, more responsible, more aware of what children get into when they shouldn't, more concerned about where the rifle should be? Would we write about how our 4 year old cousins or friends or siblings would never even know what a "trigger" was, much less how to press on it to make a gun fire?
If the elements of our novel were designed to make a good story, to hold the reader's interest, but also to teach a lesson in how NOT to store a gun, or how NOT to show your child what a trigger was for, would that be a help for someone in the future? If the novel was really any good, provided the reader with some excitement, would those "lessons" even be observed or considered by the reader?
I don't have the answers to any of those questions. If I write a contemporary story about children or teens and a real life problem, such as bullying or abuse or killing another child, and in this story I provide my MC with an escape mechanism or a way of solving the problem for themselves, am I really helping a future child/teen who might read my book? Or am I merely patting myself on the back by believing I am helping someone in the future, but in reality, I'm only offering false ( or fictional) hope for a situation that is, in fact, impossible for that same kid to overcome?
I don't know. Do you? We all write with the very best of intentions, but do we offer realistic solutions that kids can actually try to escape or put an end to their problems, or are those solutions as fictional as the rest of our story? Do we help or do we hinder?
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
This morning I read about two 4 year old first cousins. They were playing in a back bedroom of a home in which the only adult present was their grandfather. I assume he was babysitting. One of the 4year olds, a girl, peered under the bed and found a rifle, loaded, laying in an open box. She pulled it out from under the bed, pointed it at her 4 year old boy cousin, and pulled the trigger. In a nightmarish instant, one child was dead, one was guilty of killing him.
Why was there a loaded rifle under the bed in the room where the children were allowed to play? Why was the rifle loaded, no matter where it might have been? Why was the rifle accessable to these children, in any way, shape, or form? All very legitimate questions, undoubted asked by the police officers called to the home. And another question: I have used rifles before, and they are heavy weapons. How was this 4 year old child even able to lift it high enough to point it at her cousin?
But perhaps an even more legitimate question would be, why would a 4 year old girl know how to point a rifle at someone and then pull the trigger? She wasn't born knowing this. Who taught her? A parent? Grandparent? TV, movies, violent video games...all of which she should not have been allowed to watch or play, if indeed they might have been the culprits. Who taught this child, barely beyond being a toddler, how to kill someone, no matter how accidental it may have been?
No...this is not from a novel or movie or TV script. This is real life. So how do we as writers fit into all of this nightmare of reality? I can't answer that question, which is why I'm asking it. When we write about life's realities, not as non-fiction but as fiction, are we helping in real life, or are we hindering it? Some writers say, if we write about the problems in life that children/teens face on a daily basis, it will show them they are not alone, and it will provide them with ways to escape.
I'm thinking of one author in particular who writes beautiful books about girls' problems, like anorexia, cutting, and cyber bullying. I am a great fan of hers and of her books. But is she helping teen girls to understand their problems, and showing them a way out? Or is she giving them false hope about a method of escaping that could never happen to them in their real-life circumstances?
If one of us wrote about this real life incident above, how would we deal with it? We couldn't change the outcome...although, yes, in fiction we could...but suppose we wrote a novel and used the entire incident as the plot. What would we offer in this novel that could, possibly, have changed the outcome? Would we make the parents, the grandfather, more responsible, more aware of what children get into when they shouldn't, more concerned about where the rifle should be? Would we write about how our 4 year old cousins or friends or siblings would never even know what a "trigger" was, much less how to press on it to make a gun fire?
If the elements of our novel were designed to make a good story, to hold the reader's interest, but also to teach a lesson in how NOT to store a gun, or how NOT to show your child what a trigger was for, would that be a help for someone in the future? If the novel was really any good, provided the reader with some excitement, would those "lessons" even be observed or considered by the reader?
I don't have the answers to any of those questions. If I write a contemporary story about children or teens and a real life problem, such as bullying or abuse or killing another child, and in this story I provide my MC with an escape mechanism or a way of solving the problem for themselves, am I really helping a future child/teen who might read my book? Or am I merely patting myself on the back by believing I am helping someone in the future, but in reality, I'm only offering false ( or fictional) hope for a situation that is, in fact, impossible for that same kid to overcome?
I don't know. Do you? We all write with the very best of intentions, but do we offer realistic solutions that kids can actually try to escape or put an end to their problems, or are those solutions as fictional as the rest of our story? Do we help or do we hinder?
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Tuesday's Thoughts: Backstory of The Freedom Thief: Final
Looks like I missed both Friday's Focus and Monday's Musings! Sorry about that, I was in the middle of putting away Christmas decorations and restoring my home to some semblance of "normal," although "normality" is a word that doesn't seem to fit into our lives much any more.
When I first decided to write Ben's story, I decided on Kentucky as the setting, mostly because of the Ohio River, and the freedom offered to slaves on the far shores of that river. Ben's journey with his slave friends needed to end in safety, and having him be close enough to the Ohio to finally reach it, even with mishaps and wrong turns along the way, seemed to be the ideal location for the story. At the time of the story, Kentucky was still filled with massive forests and wide swamps, and the events that happened to this small group of runaways in these areas were natural and normal. I wanted to stay as close to historical accuracy all the way through the book as I possibly could, so that even the actions they took and the incidents that occurred would be correct for the places they were in.
I've already talked about the problems I had with my third instructor at ICL when it came to writing this story. By the time I graduated from that course, I already knew that the first five chapters would be permanently deleted, so a new beginning was in order. At the same time, I also knew that it was going to be difficult to have enough "backstory" to, in effect, set the stage for Ben's beliefs about slavery and why they were so different from that of his family, and yet keep that same backstory to a minimum. I think this was the hardest part of the story to write: what to bring in, and how to write it in a way that was short, to the point, and yet, explanatory.
I decided to do this in two ways: one, through dialogue between Ben, his parents, and his older brothers, and two, through a short backflash of memory on Ben's part. In my mind, the best way to do this was to begin the story with a beating of a slave and Ben's reaction, and who best to begin this with but Josiah, Ben's best friend, a crippled ten year old slave.
Whup. Whup. Whup.
The unmistakable sound of rawhide against bare skin whistled through the bedroom window, followed by shrieks of pain. Another slave was being beaten. Goose bumps played tag along Ben’s spine. He hated that sound. More, he hated that slavery was the cause of it.
When I first decided to write Ben's story, I decided on Kentucky as the setting, mostly because of the Ohio River, and the freedom offered to slaves on the far shores of that river. Ben's journey with his slave friends needed to end in safety, and having him be close enough to the Ohio to finally reach it, even with mishaps and wrong turns along the way, seemed to be the ideal location for the story. At the time of the story, Kentucky was still filled with massive forests and wide swamps, and the events that happened to this small group of runaways in these areas were natural and normal. I wanted to stay as close to historical accuracy all the way through the book as I possibly could, so that even the actions they took and the incidents that occurred would be correct for the places they were in.
I've already talked about the problems I had with my third instructor at ICL when it came to writing this story. By the time I graduated from that course, I already knew that the first five chapters would be permanently deleted, so a new beginning was in order. At the same time, I also knew that it was going to be difficult to have enough "backstory" to, in effect, set the stage for Ben's beliefs about slavery and why they were so different from that of his family, and yet keep that same backstory to a minimum. I think this was the hardest part of the story to write: what to bring in, and how to write it in a way that was short, to the point, and yet, explanatory.
I decided to do this in two ways: one, through dialogue between Ben, his parents, and his older brothers, and two, through a short backflash of memory on Ben's part. In my mind, the best way to do this was to begin the story with a beating of a slave and Ben's reaction, and who best to begin this with but Josiah, Ben's best friend, a crippled ten year old slave.
Chapter One
The unmistakable sound of rawhide against bare skin whistled through the bedroom window, followed by shrieks of pain. Another slave was being beaten. Goose bumps played tag along Ben’s spine. He hated that sound. More, he hated that slavery was the cause of it.
The whup sounded again accompanied by a small scream, but this time it came
from inside the house.
Josiah took a shuddering breath and swallowed his sobs. He raised tear-filled eyes to his master. “Yes suh.”
Pa pushed the boy toward his mother, and Bess quickly pulled him to her. He stood quivering with pain as Bess patted his tears with her apron.
“Bess, take the boy to your quarters and then come back and finish up breakfast.”
“Yes, suh, I be right back.” Bess wiped the tears from her eyes before taking
“It doesn’t matter what he did, I will discipline him as I see fit, and you do not
What in tarnation… Soapy water slopped onto the floor as Ben knocked over his washbasin in his haste to pull on his overalls. He ignored it and ran barefoot down the back stairs to the kitchen. He stopped short at the doorway and stared in disbelief at his father.
Pa slammed a short whip against Josiah, the ten year-old crippled slave who was Ben’s best friend. Josiah’s mother, Bess, stood by helplessly, twisting the corners of her starched white apron.
Ben gasped as his heart crashed against his rib cage. His throat was so dry he couldn’t speak.
“Massa Tom, Josiah don’t mean to break nothing. He just tryin’ to help me. Please, suh,” Bess implored as tears rolled down her cheeks.
As Pa raised his arm to bring the whip down again, Ben was finally able to force the words out. “Pa, wait. What are you doing? Please stop.”
His father’s fierce glare made Ben cringe, but his arm came down anyway, finishing the stroke that Ben interrupted. Pa dropped the whip and grabbed the sobbing boy by the shoulders. He shook him so hard tears splattered on the floor.
“Josiah, you are never to come in this house again unless the mistress summons you. Do you understand me?”
Josiah took a shuddering breath and swallowed his sobs. He raised tear-filled eyes to his master. “Yes suh.”
Pa pushed the boy toward his mother, and Bess quickly pulled him to her. He stood quivering with pain as Bess patted his tears with her apron.
“Bess, take the boy to your quarters and then come back and finish up breakfast.”
“Yes, suh, I be right back.” Bess wiped the tears from her eyes before taking
Josiah out the door.
Pa turned his attention to Ben. “Benjamin, you know better than to interfere
Pa turned his attention to Ben. “Benjamin, you know better than to interfere
when I discipline the slaves.” Pa’s frown was so deep his brown eyes crinkled up
and almost disappeared.
“Pa, Josiah’s just a little kid. What did he do that’s so terrible you had to whip
and almost disappeared.
“Pa, Josiah’s just a little kid. What did he do that’s so terrible you had to whip
him?”
“It doesn’t matter what he did, I will discipline him as I see fit, and you do not
question me, understand? He is clumsy and awkward and Bess should have known
better than to bring him in.”
Ben shook his head. “So you whipped him just because Bess brought him in here?"
His father’s face tightened with anger. “No, I whipped him because he broke
one of your mother’s teapots. I’m tired of your attitude, son, and I want it to end.
Now, finish getting dressed, come down, and get your breakfast. After your regular
chores are finished, I want the foaling stalls mucked and fresh straw put down.”
“But, Pa, I’m supposed to have lessons this morning and…”
“No, I think no lessons.” Pa held up his hand when Ben started to object. “You
may not like the way I discipline the slaves, but that doesn’t give you permission to
question me. Maybe a little more work will teach you the respect your lessons have
not.”
Ben left the kitchen and shuffled up the stairs. Anger at his father’s actions filled his heart and left little objectivity in his mind. The image of Josiah’s torn shirt sticking to his small bloody back brought back the memory of what had been the worst day of his young life: his grandfather’s funeral. He had been ten years old at the time, barely remembered his grandfather, and the funeral had been a sad, dismal affair that scared him. Afterward, Pa had announced they would not be going home to New York. They were staying in Kentucky to help his grandmother run the plantation. He had started to cry, and knowing Pa would only get mad at him, he ran out to the barns and straight into a scene he would never forget: a large black man was whipping a slave. When he heard the skin ripping and saw the slave’s blood spattering against the barn wall and dripping on the ground, he gagged and threw up all he had eaten that day. He had nightmares about it for many months to come. Even now, almost four years later, that image was one he couldn’t seem to forget, and it still turned his blood cold.
From there, the story moved more easily, and with a few other thoughts and bits of dialogue thrown in here and there, the backstory of Ben's beliefs and how they impacted his relationships with his parents and older brothers seemed...to me...to be adequately told.
I first submitted The Freedom Thief to MuseItUp Publishing in December, 2012, just before submissions closed. After several weeks, I received a very nice letter of rejection from the publisher herself, along with a few remarks made by the editors. I sent her another email, and asked if I could have more specific examples of what they wanted changed, so I could work on those changes. She sent me a longer response, giving specific examples of what they didn't like, and told me to resubmit the story after the changes were made, if I wanted to.
I made most of the changes, but one of them was that Ben didn't sound like a 13 year old boy, his dialogue was too mature. I did work on that a bit, but the fact is, in the 1800s, boys and girls alike at age 13 had almost adult responsibilities, they were no longer treated as children, and their own speech and dialogue was far more mature than today's 13 year old kids. Finally, the editors agreed with me on this. It took awhile to refresh the story and do the revisions the editors seemed to want, but when I resubmitted the manuscript in March, 2013, I received a contract on April 23, 2013, with a tentative publication date of November, 2013.
My Content Editor and my Line Editor were great! I loved working with them, although it was sometimes tedious work. There was very little editing required for my Content editor, and not too much for my Line editor, but this was the tedious part...going through the entire manuscript, line by line, to see where I needed to replace or delete a comma, a period, and so on.
The galley sheets were next. This was where it became time-consuming as well as very tedious. Where there was a mistake...oh yes, even after all that editing by me and two editors, there were still mistakes...I had to correct it, then copy the corrected sentence as well as the one before and after the corrected one, onto the second page of the galleys. It was painstaking work, because once the galleys are sent back to the editor, they go to print or ebook format, and that's exactly the way the book comes out. Any mistakes there, and they are on you, the author's shoulders.
The cover design was next. My cover artist and I disagreed, and it took time to decide on one. I'm not in love with this cover, but decided to accept it due to time constraints. My next book, coming out this spring, is not going to have a cover I am NOT in love with! I will know to be more demanding this time.
Finally, November 8th came, and The Freedom Thief became a published reality. But in today's publishing world, no author can breathe a sigh of relief and sit back to let the money roll in. Now is where the real work of publicizing and promoting your book comes in. For me, the worst part of this whole business is the marketing. I'm not good at it, and my one piece of advice for any author reading this is: get your ducks in a row before your book is published, and know what to do and how to do your marketing. I didn't do this, I didn't actually know to do this, and believe me, there is no sigh of relief coming my way any time soon!
I hope you have enjoy learning about the "backstory" of Thief, and my journey through the twists and turns of writing and publishing a novel.
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
From there, the story moved more easily, and with a few other thoughts and bits of dialogue thrown in here and there, the backstory of Ben's beliefs and how they impacted his relationships with his parents and older brothers seemed...to me...to be adequately told.
I first submitted The Freedom Thief to MuseItUp Publishing in December, 2012, just before submissions closed. After several weeks, I received a very nice letter of rejection from the publisher herself, along with a few remarks made by the editors. I sent her another email, and asked if I could have more specific examples of what they wanted changed, so I could work on those changes. She sent me a longer response, giving specific examples of what they didn't like, and told me to resubmit the story after the changes were made, if I wanted to.
I made most of the changes, but one of them was that Ben didn't sound like a 13 year old boy, his dialogue was too mature. I did work on that a bit, but the fact is, in the 1800s, boys and girls alike at age 13 had almost adult responsibilities, they were no longer treated as children, and their own speech and dialogue was far more mature than today's 13 year old kids. Finally, the editors agreed with me on this. It took awhile to refresh the story and do the revisions the editors seemed to want, but when I resubmitted the manuscript in March, 2013, I received a contract on April 23, 2013, with a tentative publication date of November, 2013.
My Content Editor and my Line Editor were great! I loved working with them, although it was sometimes tedious work. There was very little editing required for my Content editor, and not too much for my Line editor, but this was the tedious part...going through the entire manuscript, line by line, to see where I needed to replace or delete a comma, a period, and so on.
The galley sheets were next. This was where it became time-consuming as well as very tedious. Where there was a mistake...oh yes, even after all that editing by me and two editors, there were still mistakes...I had to correct it, then copy the corrected sentence as well as the one before and after the corrected one, onto the second page of the galleys. It was painstaking work, because once the galleys are sent back to the editor, they go to print or ebook format, and that's exactly the way the book comes out. Any mistakes there, and they are on you, the author's shoulders.
The cover design was next. My cover artist and I disagreed, and it took time to decide on one. I'm not in love with this cover, but decided to accept it due to time constraints. My next book, coming out this spring, is not going to have a cover I am NOT in love with! I will know to be more demanding this time.
Finally, November 8th came, and The Freedom Thief became a published reality. But in today's publishing world, no author can breathe a sigh of relief and sit back to let the money roll in. Now is where the real work of publicizing and promoting your book comes in. For me, the worst part of this whole business is the marketing. I'm not good at it, and my one piece of advice for any author reading this is: get your ducks in a row before your book is published, and know what to do and how to do your marketing. I didn't do this, I didn't actually know to do this, and believe me, there is no sigh of relief coming my way any time soon!
I hope you have enjoy learning about the "backstory" of Thief, and my journey through the twists and turns of writing and publishing a novel.
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)