Where Am I Today?

Where am I today?

I ask myself that from time to time.

Though my writing is intended to take my readers on a journey, over the years it has taken me on quite a journey as well.

I think the one of the biggest excitements for me in my writing has been the research.  Finding new places is not just a Google Earth or Wikipedia kind of thing. 

For example, when writing about a small town somewhere in the northern reaches of South America, I don't just want to know about the town.  I want to know about its festivals, its back streets and alleyways.  I want to know about that little cafe on the corner.  You know the one, just up from the fountain in the town center.  It's the place where all the old men meet and drink coffee just a little too bitter for me as they play chess or dominoes.

There is a Mancala board set up, too.  It's stones, so polished from play that they shine.  The pockets on the board worn deep, well past the depth of the stain and paint that originally made the board so attractive.  Paint and stones worn by the hands of adults and children alike.

I want to know the people, the traffic, the surrounding mountains and rivers.

I'm going to interject a little something here so you 'know' a little more about me.  When I was a young boy living in Las Vegas, Nevada, we had an elderly neighbor that liked to chat with us kids (brother, sister, and I).  Nice old fellow.  Never said much about his life, but always seemed interested in ours. 

He would ask about our school.  Wanted to know what little project we might be working on in the garage that had us banging and sawing on some piece of wood.

One day he asked me if I knew how to do woodwork or something like that.  My answer was a proud "Of course I know how!"

But he asked more questions.  Questions about the tools.  Questions about the wood.  Things I could not answer.  Then he explained... there is 'knowing' and there is 'KNOWING'.

Of course I was puzzled.

What I learned that day was simple.  It is easy to say you know something.  For example, you know how to weld steel.  But do you really?  Do you KNOW about the metals, how they are mined, how they are refined and processed?  Do you really KNOW what is happening to that bit of melted metal as the arc is moving across your work?  Do you know how the arc is made?  What makes the difference between one kind of rod coating and another?  How did they make the welder?  How did they make the welding rod? 

In woodworking, do you know woodwork, or do you KNOW woodwork?  How do the trees grow?  Where do the trees come from?  Do you not only KNOW how your tools are made, but can you make your own tools?  Can you tell me how the metal was refined and 'assembled' into such a fine blade? 

It is possible to know something... and not really KNOW it.

In my writing, I have endeavored to KNOW what I am writing about.  It may seem a small thing, but to me, it makes all the difference in the world.  I hope it does for my readers, too.

I have 'walked' the streets in Street View programs that have allowed me to peek into the front door of the little restaurant on the other side of the fountain.  Outside, several of the wives of the old chess players have gathered.  They share stories as their kids play about the fountain.  They discuss the bumper crop of avocados and corn in their back yard gardens with the wonderful weather, and what they are going to do when their relatives come to visit with the festival starting this coming weekend.  And of course, they grouse about their 'old men' playing chess on the far side of the fountain.

In one of my stories, a roundabout in England gave me pause as I looked at it with its five intersecting roads.  I started to sweat looking at it through a computer screen.  So I checked the road statistics on that roundabout.  Fascinatingly, it was as bad as it looked.  In a single sentence in The Watercolor Murders, I mentioned my character being a bit panicked about it.  One of my readers commented that he was, too - he had been through that roundabout.

The journey I take my readers on is only complete for me when they can feel the way my characters feel.  When they can wince at a near miss in a knife fight.  When they get angry when a loved character has died (as an important part of the story, I assure you).  When they think "All RIGHT!" as the bad guy gets his comeuppance.  When they hoot loudly as a character surprises them.  And when they smile and shed a tear as a character makes an emotional announcement. 

It pleases me that I can do this.  I get no greater pleasure in my writing than knowing a reader wants a sequel because the characters have so come alive for them.

I think I will keep on writing.

Toot! Toot!

Or should that be 'honk, honk!'

This is, once again, all new to me.  But I wanted to share something.  A story I've been working on for a little while called 'The Watercolor Murders', or just 'Watercolors', has been coming along.

As part of a little foray into a competition site, they encouraged me to go ahead and post anything I'm working on for readers to take a peek at.  So I did.  With several chapters yet to finish and about eight more in total to post, this is the response on an unfinished story:

Amazing!

The story has a great flow to it and it really kept me attentive and interested. It seems like an ordinary story at the beginning, with the description of how Michael and Michelle met, but then turns out to be a completely different topic, different genre, and a very intense, mysterious and amusing one. I love how you paid attention to the detail on the paintings, and the way that Michelle’s friend wrote to her about the anomalies in the photos of the car was simply fascinating. You have a great eye for details and a great style of writing. In my opinion, you are a talented author who could write great, mysterious crime stories (such as this one). This is an unusual story, one that you cannot not read. I am looking forward to the rest of the story.

Five stars across the board!

And...

Watercolours
This is an amazing story and one I thoroughly enjoyed.  It has the backdrop of a sweet, young, married couple continuing to show their love, humor and intelligence throughout the story of their innocently begun quest.  It has all sorts of realistic touches of life to keep it real. It is not just another "Everyman thrust into danger"  tale, although the innocence of the quest does turn dangerous. It has such a ring of truth to it all, from their banter to their affection for one another to the kind friends they make and who gladly help along the way. The mystery keeps deepening the more they discover and they find that, although the "accidental" deaths occurred years ago, something those acts to the present, since the couple falls into danger themselves. The story moves along very swiftly even though it includes time for tea and scones and mornings through evenings of each day, with interesting hours in between. A truly fascinating mystery: very puzzling yet sort light-hearted because of the loving freshness of the protagonists. The story is not finished, so naturally I hope the author continues with it soon. At the same time it is one of those stories one wishes would not end. Perhaps after the highly gifted author ties up this intriguing mystery, he could use the same couple in another story and another and....  They really are that excellent as protagonists. Thank you, sir for a great afternoon of pleasure.

Again, five starts across the board!

It tickles me that I have written something that can entertain.  To those folks that have been so encouraging as well as those that have been critical, I thank you.  I will have the rest of the story posted soon and available to THESE readers.  From there, I guess it's just a process of trying to find a publisher and/or an agent.

The story I actually entered into the competition, Boston Knights, has also been well received.  The version posted for the competition does NOT have all the 'corrections and editorial cleaning' that the final version has.  In the short competition (I entered late in the process) I managed over 515 reads in the last quarter of the competition.  This was one of the early comments:



Fun


This story is just so realistic and so amazingly written that I felt I was a part of it. It starts off completely ordinary, describing the lives of three young brothers, then slowly shifting the focus on one of them, putting him into the spotlight and following him into this unusual, but yet so realistic and genuine adventure which resulted in finding not the gold he was looking for, but love. Even though this type of romance might be a bit unusual for the readers, it still did make a good impact. The whole story is very interesting, and going from Chapter to Chapter, all I could think about is what is going to happen next. It kept me attentive and interested. There was not a single paragraph, a single sentence that made me even a little bit bored. The writing is so smooth, readable, with a great flow to it. And the technical level of the story is also commendable.



The other two stories, The Hollerinth Affair and Waiting For The Past (both also well received) were the first stories to be finished.  The reviews I got on them were more critical, and taken to heart in finishing Boston Knights and Watercolors.  I have been re-editing the first two and expect to be finished with the re-edit and re-posting them within a few weeks to a month.


Once again, thank you for all the reviews, the reads, and the encouraging words.

One of those odd little things....

As I wander more deeply into the realm of social media, I received in my email a link to a little short story competition.  It sat in my inbox for days.

I finally responded.

Short story... 350 words or less.  The inspiration was picture of someone walking wearing a hooded sweatshirt, backpacked, thumb out, forested scene.

I stabbed at it.

____________


It had been two years since Paul left.

Abusive step-father.  Alcoholic mother.

He swore he would never come back.

News of his step-father’s passing and a pleading call from his mother had him heading home.

Hood pulled low, hands shoved in his pockets, Paul found it far easier to just walk everywhere.

Today, the mosquitoes teased at his face more than he could remember.  Every breath threatened by the chance to inhale some of the annoying insects.

The sound of the car rounding the curve behind him hinted at relief.

Little did he know the unseen car coming toward him was about to change everything.

He stuck out his thumb hoping whoever it was would stop… give him some respite from his tormentors.

The car blew past causing the mosquitoes to scatter for a moment.

All too soon they returned to begin again their energetic attempts to dine.

Just as Paul had resigned himself to his fate, brake lights came on in the distance.

Backup lights.

The car was coming back.

Without hesitation as one particularly aggressive insect landed in his eye momentarily blinding him, he squinted past the blurred tears and a rubbing fist to climb into the passenger seat.

“Thank you.  The bugs were trying to eat me alive.”

“You don’t say,” came a soft, dulcet voice.

Startled, Paul held his eye shut against the last vestiges of the insect and turned to stare at the driver.

Tall, what you would call willowy.  Long flaxen hair.  Skin almost the color of ivory.

“Where are you headed?”

Still struggling to clear his eye, he muttered a depressed sounding, “Home.”

“Good.  So am I.”

Hours passed with the drone of the car lulling Paul to sleep.

Awakened as the car stopped somewhere dark, the driver got out.

After a moment, Paul got out, too.

Standing in the darkness, he could just make out the driver standing close.

The drone of mosquitoes filled the air.

“Where are we?”

“Home.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will.”

“Huh?”

“Let’s eat,” was the last thing he heard as he was blinded and suffocated by mosquitoes.

Brevity... or Verbosity?

One of the problems I often have when writing is deciding HOW to write.

Who is my audience?  What am I trying to say?  How much do I need to say?

It was easy when I was telling stories to my kids and their classrooms on Friday Reading Day.  Lots.  Period.  The more the merrier.  You don't say, "The ogre jumped from behind the tree."  You say, "Barely able to hide behind the tree, the huge ogre watched the unsuspecting hiker... waiting.... for the perfect... moment.... to JUMP!!"

Yet when writing a technical manual, in the sentence starting the paragraph, the instruction is concise.  "Left click on the frambusher to open it."  The rest of the paragraph is an explanation of where to find the icon, why you need to open it, how long it takes to open and do its 'frambushing'.

Easy to make decisions in those instances.  Or perhaps I just should have said, "Easy!"

The boggle comes when I sit down to write a story.  How much information is too much?  How much is not enough?  (Of course, there are many other questions, but this is about brevity and verbosity.)

My solution is always to write more.  Tell as much as I can.

Pump as much information into it as I can stand.  Tell the story... make it flow... scene settings, background, character building, all of it.  I want the reader to be able to visualize the story.  I want the reader to be able to slip into the valence of the characters

Then, from a reader's point of view, I read... reread... and reread.

As I reread, I think about the person that might be reading the story.  If the person is not a techy, should I use less tech information?  If they are a techy, am I putting enough in there they can understand and not flame me for some inaccuracy?  Am I 'teaching' a little new tech to someone?

Do I want to tell how the ogre was hiding?  How he waited, smelling the air, dreaming of how the hiker would taste turning slowly over a barbeque spit?  Or should I bypass all of that and simply say, "Crunching down on that last bit of well-seasoned leg bone, the ogre smiled to himself at how easy it was to hide behind the tree and catch the hiker."

I am a storyteller.  I seem to have always been such.

If I'm writing about an Artificial Intelligence, do I need to explain what that is?  In today's society, probably not.  But wait, is it a part of the story to explain HOW the AI came to be?

How old are my readers?  How educated are they?  How much 'story' can I feed them and how much can be fantasy and how much can be fact?  How much history and how much historical fiction?

I want to entertain, not write a tech manual.  I've written enough of those through the years.  Now it's time to have fun.

But, what does an editor want?  And worse, what if the story never gets to an editor, which seems to be the case more and more for all authors.  Professional Readers have a set list of things they have been told to look for.  Even when an agent or editor reads the stories themselves, how many of them are getting used to just nixing the story when they hit the first grammatical error?  I am beginning to think the list includes more negative things than positive things.  So they reject the story three sentences in and never really see what kind of story they just rejected.

Agatha Christie, five years of continual rejections, more than $2 Billion in sales.

It took the insistence of an eight year old editor's daughter that she wanted to finish reading the book before J. K. Rowling was accepted after being told she needed to get a day job.  +450 million sales.

Louis L'Amour, 200 rejections, +330 million sales.

Dr. Seuss, “Too different from other juveniles on the market to warrant its selling.” +300 million sales.

Zane Grey, “You have no business being a writer and should give up.” +250 million sales.

I'm not saying I'm in the league of these folks.  Far from it, I'm quite certain.  But, a couple things I do know for certain... I love to write, I love to tell stories, and editors seldom know what they are missing until it's too late.

To get back to the main topic, my solution to the question?  Both.  It's a story.  Sometimes brevity works best and sometimes it's verbosity.  Therefore, I shall continue to make some things longer and more detailed, just as I will continue to find a few things here and there that really do need to be shortened.  I'll leave it up to the editor that selects my story(s) to do the final editing.  Isn't that what they are really there for, after all?

At sixty-some rejections for three different manuscripts, I think I have a long ways to go before I give up.  I've gotten some very nice comments and compliments from my readers.

I'll keep writing.  Besides... the forth manuscript is almost done.

Can it still be a pleasant conversation if it's in email?

I think so.

I had a very nice response from an agent in regards to several of my stories.  Nice, as in it told of a few things I needed to do differently.  So I went back and re-read several passages in a slightly newer light.  And I am about 70% in agreement with her.  She has also forwarded a few thoughts on how to approach other writers and see what they think as well.  So far, she has been the most patient with me and interested in what I am doing.  (no contract yet, but I'm working on her!)

So, I have gone through Boston Knights and now have a Revision One available on Kindle.

I want to thank that agent and several of my readers for their suggestions and questions.  Suggestions are good.  Questions are cool!  Some about history.  Some about how I write.  Several about when the sequel is coming!  And a couple about when will they see the movie.

I'm working on it!!

Working on it all.

Waiting For The Past (formerly WAITING) and The Hollerinth Affair are both just about finished with their first full revisions, too.  I will have them replaced in Kindle as soon as they are ready.

The stories are the same, but some of the sentences and grammar have been improved for readability.  In reading aloud some of the passages, I became painfully aware of how 'thought' sentences are not the same as 'read' sentences.

Watercolors (AKA The Watercolor Murders) is over 60,000 words now and I've finished doing the same kind of 'revision' on it as the other three.  I have about 6 or 8 more chapters to go to finish it and expect it to end somewhere short of 100,000 words.  So, I expect to see it on Kindle before long, too.

I am still pestering agents and publishers, so if you know any good ones, let me know.  I am open to suggestions.

Thank you to all that have contributed with your encouragement, your suggestions, your laughter and your tears.  Even those of you that got p***ed off at me for killing off a character or two.  (Sorry!  It had to be done!)

More soon.

What is YOUR 'perfect'?

I was going to title this 'The Right Pen Can Make The Difference',  But after finishing it, I changed my mind.

I made an interesting discovery this last week.  My pen ran out of ink.

Okay, so that wasn’t really the discovery, it was what followed.

Just so we have this clear, my pen ran out of ink, I picked up another pen from the little coffee cup on my desk, and tried to continue to write.  Key word in that sentence is ‘tried’.

Writers’ Block from a pen?  Wow!  Crazy!  But true.  I just could not write.

It took me over a week and a trip to town to pick up a new refill for my pen.  Now, again, just so you know, my pen is a little different from most.  My hands are large, so finding a pen that feels good in my hands can be a challenge.  I also wear shirts that are often a bit more on the dressy side, so I like to have a pen that looks nice.  Know what I mean?  More than that, I like a pen that fits in my pocket properly without poking up or sitting sideways.  Strange pet peeve, I know… but there you have it.  Big enough for my hand, small enough for my pocket.

So, to solve all these myriad problems I settled on a nice stainless steel Parker Jotter for its nice looks, how it fits in my hand, and how it fits in my pocket.  However, there is still the ‘writing’ issue.

I write everywhere.  Not just at a nice desk or table.  I write inside, outside, summer, winter, on my journal as it rests on my knee, in the rain, and on the plane.  (just had to rhyme that one!)  I find that the ‘normal’ refill cartridge you can pick up at any store can be blobby and smeary and they all have difficulty in the cold and rain.  Some run.  Some bleed.  Some skip.  To solve this, ever since I found out they existed (slightly post-moonwalk) I have been using the Fisher Space Pens.  I keep one of their bullet pens in my pocket at all times as a spare.  But my ‘dress’ pen, my 'writing' pen, the one I use the most as described previously, has a Fisher refill in it.  It’s the perfect pen… for me.

Try as I might, I could only get a few pages put to ink with that ‘non-standard’ pen that I had as a spare.  My ‘pocket’ pen is great, but not ideal for continuous writing.  So I just had to get a refill so I could once again write comfortably.

Now for the discovery part.  (You knew I’d get there eventually!)  It’s not so much that I had the perfect pen or not, or the perfect journal to carry around (made it myself out of some scrap leather I got at an op shop, but that’s another story).  The discovery was that everyone that writes needs something… perfect.  

The perfect location… perfect pen… perfect journal… perfect music… perfect encouragement.

Whatever your ‘perfect’ is, revel in it, and keep on doing what you do.  And if you write?  KEEP ON WRITING!!!

(And don’t run out of ink!!)

I Finally Had To Do It....

Yup.... I finally put something out there in Kindle.

I didn't want to do that... well, sort of anyway.  I was really hoping a publisher would pick me up and take care of all the minutia of publishing.  But none of them have done the deed.

So... I did it.  I put one of my books out there on Kindle.

And HOLYSHIT!!  I made the mistake of leaving my contact info on the copyright page and have been inundated!!  HOLYCRAP!!  Everyone loves it!!

Okay, okay... so now I need to get rid of my contact info and put it out there without such.

Done....

So now if anyone wants to comment on it, they have to do it in the comments section.

That works.

Should be out there in its 'new' form shortly!

THANK YOU!!!!!!!