I write

So my friends. I have to apologize tonight I have deleted two blogs before you could read them. But tonight, I am sitting in my chair as usual. I've turned the television off and am sitting very quietly. The body is still but my mind is in turmoil. I think the best way to confront our today is to ignore it. Let what is to happen, happen. Many of you know that I have been writing for the past year. Mostly imaginary stuff and a little political satire.

Tonight is different. I am alone, I wonder if I were to sit in a cave with noxious gases rising like those poor women in Greece, would I have more than a headache. Would I try to say something profound, something truthful or ambiguous. You know something that would pass the smell test.

There isn't a lot today that passes that.

We have had a terrorist attack again. I say again because I feel that all of the ones questioned lately have Pakistan in mind. Pray God that those who are responsible for our safety understand that we are fragile without stern support.

Anyway I sat in font of the computer the other day and thought. Should I write about my dear character Phillip. I scrolled down through my pages and hit upon a line. 'I saw her skirts billowing above me. They were captured by the frozen sea. Great spiraling circles of fabric, slowing her progress, drawing my beloved ever closer towards me. Her hair, a crown of threads spread out, following her as she floating, each strand standing apart, with a life of its own. My beauty a symphony of harmonics, Beneath in the blackness I saw and heard. The parts calling, inflaming my passion. The sea moved but I did not hear, She interrupted the ebb and flow. She displaced the natural resonance. There was no one to hear the change, but I did and I hungered.'

Then I heard the sound, low pitched, silvery. Musical notes glancing off shards of water coalescing then swelling. Great flats and sharps, the pipes began to cry and then began the march. Note after note leading me on. I rushed towards her, my feet beating a tattoo. and then the sun began the cadence and then the bells replaced themShe fell into my arms and I was Pleased this was someone I could love

Read Your MS

It has again been a while since I last wrote anything on my blog. It isn't for a lack of things to say, but merely the reality that I keep forgetting how to get into the blog to write. Thanks to my sister for creating a counter on Thursday for me as of today I've had 32 hits since then. Now that could be one person 32 times or two people 16 times so on and so on...But thanks if you are the one person or two people, thank you for taking the time to check.

I have been kept busy writing. I'm continuing to edit my Vampire story and have noticed that I never described my main character, Agnes(shocking). So I think that I may have added a little more flesh to her bones(so to speak).

Rewriting has given me an opportunity to flesh out other characters and situations as well. While writing my MS I have reread or read my story to the group for critique. I listen for the cadence. By reading aloud you can hear the spoken word but you may lose or not recognize flaws in content. You can so lost in the flow of words that you can't see or hear opportunities to simplify complex language structure or situations in which your characters may find themselves. That is why reading from the written page by the author is so important. If you don't become bored, as I've become at times, you may catch your weaknesses.

I should do as I say, of course my yellow pen has only traveled 100 pages in my MS so far. But at the end of the day when I'm finished(I usually write or rewrite for three to five hours, or more if I'm in the mood. I am then ready to put my characters to bed for the night.

I'd like to say hello to Laura and David. They were two very vocal members of our writing groups and they are sorely missed. Florida's loss is Texas' gain. It would be nice though if they could have remained with us.

My bedside table now has two new books on it. I finished Drood by Dan Simmons. It is a tremendous story and very absorbing. It describes the relationship between two authors in the mid 19th century. Good story, believable characters and a lot of twists, turns and surprises.

I am now reading a book published in 1997, Drums of Autumn written by Diana Gabaldon. I have thoroughly enjoyed her stories regarding regarding the trials and tribulations of Claire and Jamie Fraser.

The second book is Assegai by Wilbur Smith published May, 2009, set in 1913 per World War Africa. I am looking forward to starting this, I'm familiar with and enjoyed other books by Mr. Smith.

Well I am going to close for now. I think I'll return to this blog in a few days. Thanks everyone.

Rejection by E-mail

Well I'm back, fire ant scars and all. I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday with their friends and families. I was fortunate enough to be able to share mine with long time friends from Maryland and Orlando. The meal was fantastic. Lamb, ham and all the other goodies. Thanks Andrea.

Met a fabulous singer there who is appearing at Beluga's jam sessions in Winter Park. She has a great throaty voice, wonderful mezzo, and sings blues and jazz. Her name is Miss Jacqueline Jones check her out you won't be disappointed.

I have had the most wonderful experience for a writer. Last week I received my first rejection e-mail from an agent I had submitted my work to. The reason why I believe it was a good experience for me is that it forced me to take a closer look at the manuscript I'd sent. She was very kind in her note and I thank her for that. It is unfortunate that I wasted a great opportunity by sending an MS that wasn't ready.

I would like to focus on some of the things I discovered. I am a type A personality. You know who we are. The person, who is cocky, sure of themselves and often pushy. The type of person who never doubts for a moment that they will succeed at whatever they put their hand to.

I sat down the other day in a very comfortable chair with my yellow pen. Opening the MS I began. Reading the page, my finger moving along each line, my mouth sounding out the words for my ear. I was horrified by what I saw. The language was so flowery at times I thought I needed a vase. Then I began cutting out things. First the flowery phrases had to go. I then turned to redundant phrases. How many ways are there to say the sky was beautiful or someone is upset.

According to my manuscript many, many ways. I covered thirty pages that afternoon and whittled it down to fifteen pages. No wonder it was rejected. I had duplicated people, events and explained relationships and characters reactions over and over again.

I though that my work product was the number of words I produced or how many hours I sat at the computer, but I've learned something I'd forgotten. The main reason I write is because I not only love the work but also because I want to send out a wonderful story. So I will continue to read and strike out phrases and rewrite until I truly feel it is ready for the readers who will open the cover in anticipation of a good story.

Perhaps I will devote the next blog to one of my short stories. Let me know if you would like to read something I've written. But for now I am going to have a drink. It's been a long day.

Senior Moments and Fire Ants

I've had an interesting weekend. I visited with my sister om Sunday. She returns to North Carolina on Tuesday. They've bought a place in Lady Lake so I know they will be down more often.

I planted my Pineapple plants on Saturday night. My feet and hands are covered with fire ant bites. It seems they like Pineapples too. That and I stood on top of their nest to dig the hole for the plants. My feet and toes swelled up. nasty creatures.

Have been working on the butcher. He has run over a courier on a bicycle by accident. The courier had discovered one of his victims earlier so he is coming full circle. I was given a great book on forensics by a good friend. Postmortem, Establishing the Cause of Death by Dr. Steven Koehler and Dr. Cyril Wecht. The pictures make you dizzy but the narrative spells out step by step the process of identification and who is involved at what stage. Very interesting.

I've finished reading Hannibel Rising and am now reading Whiteout by Ken Follett. Hannibel was rather gruesome but not as graphic as the films. Whiteout seemed somewhat familiar when I started and sure enough half way through I came across a line that confirmed my suspicions. I have read it before...it is a problem when you have extended senior momenst but even those moments don't stay with me for very long.

Well I'm off to soak my feet. I'll be back later.

Challenged

Thanks to Donna K., I'm back! Last Thursday, a friend of mine lost her husband after 51 years together. I went to his memorial service yesterday. It was impressive and amazing. During the service, I not only thought of my friend and her husband, but also back to those I too have lost over the years. It was very moving. I would like to think that when I remembered those I've lost, they came forward to welcome her husband.

During the service Taps was played on a bugle after a 21 gun salute. I've heard this done in the movies but never in a service before. It was very moving. Our Writing Group members were there to support our friend and her family. Our group is very close. I have seen posts for other groups describing how close they are. It seems that our closeness follows true. The concept of sharing our work exposes each of us to the others on a deeper level. I think all writers old hands or new should be part of a writing group. The pencil is good to us but sharing is good for us too. Writers are funny people. Put them all together in one room and watch. You will see levels of trust, respect and protectiveness develop among the members faster than you will with a room full of Community Developers.

I would like to thank those of you who saw this blog and left comments. Read their comments. I enjoyed them and they're true. Involve the reader, don't complicate the world, be real and balance the info between detail dialogue and setting.

I have finished two books Byzantium and Voyage of 1896. Enjoyed them and am now on Hannibal Rising, about Hannibal Lechter's childhood. Seems he had a split brain.

I have been working on some of my own things. I received a rejection from an agency. It was thrilling. They told me the work had merit and should be submitted elsewhere. I am reading it again before I submit to someone else.

It is about Vampires set in 16th century Cuba. Involves a conflict between two brothers and their sister. The sister forced into a convent, arouses the love of a vampire who turns her and ruins his coven.

I am also working on a serial killer piece set in modern day Florida. He is a paranoid schizophrenic desperate to find company. No I have not modeled the character after myself. I am not mentally challenged. I have a piece of paper that says so. I think it's still in the bureau, Oh. Oh, I think I see people outside my window.

Another Sleepless Night

Thanks to my sister Martha, her husband Don, my friends Donna, K.and Ryland Y. and Ron R., I have spent a very difficult night. With their help I now have a blog. But what am I going to do with it?"

I think everyone has had this experience at one time or another. It was one of those sleep periods when you toss and turn and have to keep reaching for your note pad and pencil to record ideas flooding your consciousness. Ideas that will be a vague memory in the morning.

With the light of day you scan the sheets of paper. What you find is the ideas may have seemed better in the darkness or their rationale has been lost because your penmanship is so bad you can't make out the scribbles(you were too lazy to put your glasses on).

So what did I come up with you might ask. I thought it might be fun to do a section on "My Bedside Table" and list books I am reading. Currently the three are: Voyage, a Novel of 1896, by Sterling Hayden, Hannibal Rising by Thomas Harris author of Silence of the Lambs, The Husband by Dean Koontz. What are you reading?

Other thoughts captured last night before sleep, from the mind of a Community Developer were, Yes, there are more of us than the President. The ideas were:

As an individual looking at a shelf of books, what is it about a particular book that makes you want to take a second look?

While reading a book what is it about the book that makes it sing for you?

Besides insomnia, what is it about a book that makes you stay up all night reading?

After obtaining a book, what makes you close the cover never to open it again?

These questions are usually answered by saying, plot, action, character development, theme, cohesiveness or insomnia. These answers while true do not represent the whole, I believe thinking about these questions a deeper reason will emerge that is a clearer understanding of what makes books work. Any thoughts?

I'm going to sleep on these questions and perhaps in the morning I will have a sheet of paper filled with answers.

The Pencil Pusher

A long time friend has come down from Washington D.C. to Florida and we have worked on a Face Book site and created this blog. I am a new fiction writer and hope to share my writing experiences for and about writers and those who are interested in writing but haven't tried.



I facilitate a bi-monthly Writer's Group and love the interaction. I have found that sharing experiences about writing helps the writer to grow. This is possibly because writing is such a lonely business. Just you and your pencil or computer.


I would like to thank my friends for encouraging me to work harder and spread my fingers into the world of electronic messaging. I look forward to hearing for others. Thank you.