tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80966009327579086292024-03-14T01:18:52.827-05:00True Life and FictionA distracted writer's journey. Articles, half-truths, fiction, poetry and publishing.True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.comBlogger294125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-22814476451251816062020-10-11T10:34:00.003-05:002020-10-11T10:34:49.735-05:00The Journal Post<p> As one can clearly see, I've not completely harnessed the ability to put aside distractions. I suspect a full year is long enough to go without posting on this blog and I'm sure I've upset my followers -- all forty or so of them. It's probably time I posted another story of lessons learned during my childhood and adolescence, but I'll save that for another day as well.</p><p>What I want to post today is simply a sort of journal entry in an attempt to get back on track. Let's see, I'm still working on no less than seven different story ideas with seemingly no ability to finish one of them. The story ideas are still ranging from science fiction to fantasy. </p><p>Perusing through the statistics for my blog, I've realized that my most popular (most viewed) posts were about typewriters in my small collection. Are that many people interested in old typewriters or are typewriter enthusiasts just more dedicated than others?</p><p>On another note, I recently attended a novel-writing workshop put on by a local author who has reached some level of success. In a two-hour workshop, I made some realizations and re-committed myself to getting my butt in the chair, narrowing down my writing interests to a single project at a time, and pursuing that project through to the end no matter how ridiculous it seems at the time.</p><p>So, this concludes my journal entry for now. Even though many will likely not understand this odd posting, it is a post that says "I'm going to put it out there no matter how silly I think it is."</p>True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-25612264819845685182019-10-05T07:10:00.000-05:002019-10-05T07:10:14.519-05:00Building CharacterThis post is meant more for my fellow writers than the general public. Nonetheless, I believe that others may find something of value in these words. It is likely though, given my readership at this time, that I am posting this mostly for myself as a kind of record of my thoughts and discoveries. At any rate, today my thoughts lead me to the development of character, both in story and in life.<br />
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I've been working on one particular story, off and on, for a number of years. I've written other stories, poems, and posts within this time but I keep coming back to this story to make small changes. Over the course of about eight years, I've made so many changes to this story idea that it has nearly come full circle back to its original concept. So, What has changed? The answer, my writerly friends, is character.<br />
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When I first started building upon this story idea, I had a premise and a main character. My main character started with the name "Mehgan Mary McKendry," a good respectable Irish name. I understand that the name of a character is not a major part of character but, for me, my characters tend to take shape around a name. For reasons I cannot explain, I've changed my main character's name to "Katherine Mary McKendry," a very common Irish and Catholic name. You see, my character's actions are, at least in part, driven by her family history. She makes jokes about some of these "oddities" throughout this first story. Yes, I believe there may be more than one as she becomes a Private Investigator/Bounty Hunter of sorts. At first, she follows this path to help a friend but, by the end of this first story, she may decide to pursue this occupation as a means of making a living.<br />
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At first Katherine--we'll just call her "Kat" from now on--was not much more than a name and the beginnings of a personality. She was like a cutout doll, stuck in a perpetual position, unable to withstand bending or folding. Over time, and numerous draft rewrites, she began to fill out and take on a personality of her own. Like a child growing up, she, at times, became defiant and questioned everything I did or put her through. Every time I made a decision for her, she would ask, "Is that really how you want me to react?" She is now fully fleshed out and grown-up enough to make through this first story nearly on her own. I do believe though, that it may take another two or three adventures before she can completely stand on her own.<br />
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This is why I've decided, from this and other experiences with some stories written under a pen name, that I may need to hold off on publication of this first story until I've, at least begun to develop another adventure or two for her.<br />
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I'm interested to know how other writers develop characters in their stories. Do your characters come to you fully dressed and with their own unique personality? Do you create a story around a character or do you create a character to fit the story? Does this all depend on the story or character you've created? Have you ever just had a character show up that needed a story?<br />
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My characters are normally something I create for a story and they start out as a simple vehicle to move the story. Over a span of time (and rewrites) they become whole individual characters and begin to drive the story in different ways.<br />
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I suppose that, no matter how your characters come to be, they still eventually develop on their own.True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-58328486076335677732018-12-08T07:36:00.000-06:002019-05-03T13:37:43.242-05:00Is Amazon Unfair to Independent Authors?Is Amazon unfair to independent authors?<br />
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Of course, I'm discussing here Amazon's Kindle Direct Publishing platform or KDP.<br />
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I hope you don't stop reading at this point but I believe the answer is a firm yes... and no.<br />
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The other day I was perusing through the Amazon bestseller list and noticed several kindle books at the top of the list that had a release date that was nearly a month away. In addition to this, each of the books had about 200 reviews. A later viewing showed books releasing at the beginning of next year with most reviews under ten. But still, they were all bestsellers already on the 2nd of November, 2018.<br />
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"How is this possible," I thought.<br />
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Of course, I know that an author with KDP can set a future release date but these early releases do not accumulate actual sales (although future sales have value in Amazon's algorithm) and can submit literary reviews through Author Central but Amazon does not allow a reader to post a review on something that has not been published yet.<br />
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How can Amazon get away with this? Are certain publishers buying them off so they can get around the rules? Of course, my conspiracy theory-prone mind took over and I began thinking of all kinds of diabolical schemes designed to keep me from becoming the breakout indie sensation I so richly deserve to be.<br />
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Here's a screenshot of the top ten kindle books I saw.<br />
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How odd that the top six kindle books have a release date of 1 January 2019!<br />
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This just seemed so wrong to me and required further investigation. The first thing I did was to research KDP's rules for publishing as they change often enough that one must occasionally go to Author Central and reread them. Here's what Author Central says:<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eI4BWE7Ubi8/XAu7_-5NyiI/AAAAAAAABsw/kbKDA4EJbDAeGfO7EweB53vEy1tVCVnKQCLcBGAs/s1600/amazon%2Breviews%2Bbefore%2Brelease.PNG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="101" data-original-width="1075" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eI4BWE7Ubi8/XAu7_-5NyiI/AAAAAAAABsw/kbKDA4EJbDAeGfO7EweB53vEy1tVCVnKQCLcBGAs/s1600/amazon%2Breviews%2Bbefore%2Brelease.PNG" /></a><br />
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Hmm, if this is so, then how did these books get reviews and ratings in the top ten an entire month before the release date? How are these particular authors and publishers able to break the rules set forth by Amazon and get away with it?<br />
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A deeper investigation down the list of top one hundred books revealed that they were from a select group of publishers, all of which were unfamiliar to me. Publishers like Lake Union Publishing, Thomas & Mercer, Montlake Romance, and 47 North.<br />
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Since I grew up around the Seattle area of Washington State, these names sounded vaguely familiar to me. I soon realized that many of them were places or things associated with the Seattle area. A still deeper investigation revealed that these publishers were all imprints of Amazon!<br />
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So, apparently, Amazon runs a bunch of their own publishing houses and then sets their books up for success by creating a separate set of rules and algorithms for them. It DOES seem just a little unfair to me.<br />
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On the other hand, independent authors know all about the practices of Amazon and but realize that Amazon was at the forefront of providing this platform for indie authors. I personally still like that indie authors still gain more percentage of book price in royalties than any other platform except maybe Smashwords. They also provided a go-around to traditional publishing with its gatekeepers and poor treatment of new authors. This is something I've contemplated quite a bit.<br />
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I have many author friends that believe traditional publishing is the way to go and if one is not traditionally published they are not an author to be taken seriously. I say poo poo on that though. the few author friends I know that did manage to get a contract with a major publishing house have had very mixed results. On the upside, they were provided with editing and, in some cases, were allowed input on things like cover art but, once the book was published, they quickly became more like an independent author in that they were expected to provide their own marketing and other authorly things like arranging book signings.<br />
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So, in this sense, these Amazon imprints are, in the very least, providing their new authors with a bit of a leg up at a most critical time for an author -- the days, weeks and months leading to the release date.<br />
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So, while I still think it is unfair that Amazon chooses to provide an advantage to their own imprints, I also realize that this is what Amazon is. Amazon is this behemoth because of their predatory practices, arcane and domineering treatment of independent authors (KDP Select) and questionable business scruples.<br />
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Nonetheless, they do provide the indie author with options to gain some remuneration for their work outside of forming one's own publishing company as many authors of the past.<br />
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Might I also point out that I still found many independent authors within the top one hundred sellers on this list. One independent author, Alexa Riley, had three stories in the top one hundred at the time of my viewing and that's not too shabby.<br />
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What are your thoughts on Amazon KDP and Amazon imprints? Any other indie authors out there with a personal experience?True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-65220401317957714552018-03-07T17:35:00.000-06:002018-03-07T17:35:22.693-06:00Is Grammarly Worth it For Writers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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How many of you writers out there use the spelling and grammar checker in Word? Oh, come on. Don't be shy. I use it for the first pass on many of my writing projects, at the very least. It's great but I don't think it is the only thing that a writer should use to check their work.<br />
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Grammarly promises to be extremely useful for writers, so I decided to give the free version a try and report my findings. Remember that my review is a personal accounting only and I am in no way advocating for or against the use of this product.<br />
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I've found Grammarly to be extremely useful for posting on facebook, tweeting, or writing a blog post such as the one you are reading now. In fact, Grammarly shows my mistakes in real time and, if the mistake remains (through continued typing) provides me the opportunity to correct mistakes. Because of this feature alone, I can say that Grammarly fulfills all of its claims listed on television and youtube commercials.<br />
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This feature alone has already improved my writing in these areas. I am typing this post online right now and will publish it as written on the first pass. Any mistakes that you may find represents what Grammarly did not find. But, so far, it's found more than I ever would on a first draft.<br />
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So, if you are looking for a spelling and grammar tool you can plug into your computer and/or phone to help your writing of blog posts, facebook posts, and tweets on the fly, this is certainly an excellent tool. I would highly recommend it if you do much of your writing online.<br />
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What about that hardcore creative writing that requires editing beyond a simple grammar and spelling check? We've all heard the saying, ' There are only three rules to good writing. Unfortunately, no one can agree on what they are.' This is where most standard grammar-checkers begin to show their limitations.<br />
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The one thing I really like about Grammarly is that I was able to install it into Word quite easily and I can access it by simply clicking on the newly installed icon on the right side of my toolbar.<br />
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Notice that, even though I did not have the feature open for this screenshot, it was still showing more than ten errors found. Below is a screenshot of the actual document used and the error shown with a green underline.<br />
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As seen above, the error found was not necessarily an error at all. Sure, the sentence structure could use some work but that's not what it was pointing out. If you remember the picture above, Grammarly installed in word stated that I had more than ten errors in my document, but where are they? In fact, only one error was found in the standard version. If I want to view the rest of the errors I'm prompted to purchase the premium version.<br />
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Now, if the standard version were to offer a more realistic substitute for the word list above, I might have been prompted to learn more about the premium version. Sadly, the standard version made a ridiculous suggestion to replace the word 'was' with the word 'be'. Therefore, I surmise that the program (standard version, anyway) quickly met its match when faced with creative, narrative writing.<br />
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By comparison, Word did no better. Below is a screenshot of a suggested correction from Word's native grammar/spell checker.<br />
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It appears Word does no better than Grammarly in suggesting valid changes beyond simple grammar and spelling. I'm not even sure where Word got this suggestion from. Of course, I chose this particular set of paragraphs because I knew beforehand that, while it was generally free of grammatical and spelling errors, there are some issues with sentence structure.<br />
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I suppose I chose this particular passage to demonstrate the need for an actual human editor in most cases of creative and narrative writing. I researched the premium edition and found that, while it does provide more advice on structure and syntax issues, the cost is prohibitive at $29.95 per month.<br />
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Nonetheless, I think the standard (free) version is excellent for everyday writing--especially on small cell phone keypads--and writing live. For an indepth analysis of narrative and creative writing, there's no substitute for a good editor.True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-1810997212508186132018-03-04T07:08:00.000-06:002018-03-04T07:08:16.602-06:00Tech Woes and Wonders<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Yes, I know that I normally post some nostalgic story on Saturdays.</div>
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Not only am I a day late but I will post instead a short explanation for not posting yesterday. My old computer was getting, well, old and was affecting my writing.</div>
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For my Birthday, my wife bought me a new computer. It uses the latest Windows operating system (yes my other computer lacked the computer power to operate with such a system) and I'm still learning, playing around, and generally getting to know the system.</div>
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Still using Ywriter with great admiration. A bonus is that, with my new larger computer monitor, I can make the words bigger and easier to read.</div>
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Thank you for your patience. I should be back to the regularly irregular schedule by Wednesday.</div>
True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-53966091640603984872018-02-28T05:03:00.002-06:002024-03-13T08:14:24.172-05:00Poetry for Better Writing<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container tr_bq" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YxlGMubvCTk/WpaEgeTdwyI/AAAAAAAABqQ/WmHxbC7EKKooS665vd3tMoE7KT2qmnJ-gCLcBGAs/s1600/poetry%2Bfrom%2Bflocabularydotcom.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="640" height="180" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YxlGMubvCTk/WpaEgeTdwyI/AAAAAAAABqQ/WmHxbC7EKKooS665vd3tMoE7KT2qmnJ-gCLcBGAs/s320/poetry%2Bfrom%2Bflocabularydotcom.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">credit: flocabulary.com</td></tr>
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There are times when I'm writing that creativity escapes me. Sometimes, only for a moment, other times the dry spell could go on for days.<br />
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To break this treacherous cycle, I often turn to any number of tricks or exercises to get going again. I might try working on another part of the project at hand, timed writing, free writing, listening to lyrical music or great classical music.<br />
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Often, what works best for me is writing (or even reading or thinking about) poetry. Poetry is unique to the individual and can be written in any form. Of course, there are conventions and rules for poetry but I've yet to see anyone follow these rules. I've read poetry that doesn't rhyme or poetry that sounds more like a personal accounting that captivated me.<br />
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I've dabbled in poetry since childhood but never seriously. I've had a poem published but even publication didn't keep me from criticizing it later.<br />
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I will not be so vain as to imply or express that my poems are worthy of tearful ovations or cool finger-snapping. Nonetheless, they serve a purpose in spawning creativity in my own writing and poetry, either read or written from your own hand can do the same for you.<br />
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Here are some of mine to get you started and show that even not-so-great poems can get your creative juices flowing and provide insight into sentence structure, readability, and flow.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Sleepless Night</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Oh, those torrents of the dark<br />
Those devilish, nocturnal things<br />
Tonight, I joined them<br />
Cast away the invitation to sleep<br />
I cannot find rest<br />
And my dreams have left in fear<br />
Of the wilds in the night<br />
I watch with untrusting eyes<br />
As a cast of spirits taunt me<br />
And hold my sanity captive, just out of reach<br />
Spirits so dark and deceitful<br />
Even their shadows are not welcome<br />
They are only darkness among shadows<br />
And they hold slumber ransom<br />
What ransom for sleep<br />
Name it and I’ll pay<br />
Although sleep will not be freed<br />
I’ll pay my dues all the next day</blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">You can probably guess what prompted this poem. I've posted this unchanged and unedited so that anyone can see that, even though not perfect or publication ready, poetry can serve a personal purpose and generally make one feel better.</span><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Heartbroken Manifesto</blockquote>
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You told me to have faith<br />
So I allowed hope of salvation to flow<br />
But no help came and I was not saved<br />
You said God answers all in need<br />
So, on worn and bloody knees, I cried out<br />
But no answer came from my pleas<br />
You said love brings life<br />
So, I gave of my heart, put it out in the cold<br />
My reward; a hardened heart, cold as ice You said love conquers all<br />
But, when I held out my heart, I fell prey<br />
To cupid’s arrow piercing my heart’s hard frozen walls<br />
You said all wounds heal with time<br />
But I could spend an eternity searching<br />
And not bring my broken scattered heart back in line<br />
You say let me lift you up, make you better<br />
I say let me alone while I search an eternity<br />
For my shattered frozen heart lost to the nether</blockquote>
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Not even sure where this one came from. But the next poem, I wrote as part of a writing exercise. At a meeting with other writers someone proposed an exercise to write about the first thing they picked up out of the trash. The subject became an aluminum soda can, so I wrote about aluminum.<br />
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<blockquote>
ODE TO ALUMINUM<br />
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<o:p> </o:p>Waiting in darkness, your world under mine.<br />
Attached to another since the dawn of time.<br />
Now freed by strong current, and formed as a can.<br />
You hold my cold beverage, while I hold you in my hand.<br />
<o:p> </o:p>Lighter than silicon locked up in bauxite.<br />
Heavier than magnesium but just on the right.<br />
Used and reused, your form has no end.<br />
So useful when neighbors graciously lend.<br />
<o:p> </o:p>Though your place at the table, a lowly thirteen<br />
To us you’re the best, there’s no in between.<br />
A can, a car, a fast aero plane<br />
A table, a building, or parts of a train.<br />
<o:p> </o:p>Without you, my friend we’d not be in space<br />
We’d still be on Earth just spinning in place.<br />
Stuck with just Iron and heaving its weight<br />
Slowing us down and making us late.<br />
<o:p> </o:p>And that is why …<br />
<o:p> </o:p>Alou, Alou, we like Aluminum<br />
I drink from your form and when I am done<br />
You’ll become new again for another someone.<br />
So useful and timeless. We like Aluminum.</blockquote>
<br />
The above poem was supposed to be more like lyrics and sung to some tune I've long forgotten.<br />
<br />
Just a thought, but taking a short break to write poems can help with creativity. Poetry, either written on your own or read can provide expression and healing in times when it is needed.<br />
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How about you? Do you ever delve into the world of poetry? Tell me about it.</div>
True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-64958324243612309902018-02-24T06:54:00.001-06:002018-02-24T06:54:15.909-06:00Learning to Drive<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kUMrOwsw0vQ/WpFQbzBIS2I/AAAAAAAABpo/_p0d2GVug5wH9bO16fHBeLoW9Q8UDQMhACLcBGAs/s1600/drinving%2Bfrom%2Bweclipart%2Bdot%2Bcom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="663" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kUMrOwsw0vQ/WpFQbzBIS2I/AAAAAAAABpo/_p0d2GVug5wH9bO16fHBeLoW9Q8UDQMhACLcBGAs/s320/drinving%2Bfrom%2Bweclipart%2Bdot%2Bcom.jpg" width="303" /></a></div>
I'm sure most people of my age hold memories of their youth, and one memory that many remember with fondness, or horror, is learning to drive a car.<br />
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I had no problem passing my driving test for the first time at the age of sixteen because I'd taken driver education class in school. Also, I'd been driving on occasion since I was fourteen.<br />
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My sister was two years older than me and, when she started driving, my dad helped her buy an old 1960 Ford Falcon. I'm pretty sure she hated that car. Now, at about the same time, he must've found a great deal because he also purchased a 1968 Datsun 510 bluebird.<br />
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<br />
In those days, before the gas crunch, foreign cars (as people called them) were inexpensive. Very few people seemed to want some small boxy car with an under powered engine. Nobody cared that these cars were easy on gas. What fun was that? Funny thing is that I believe my sister's Falcon had a four cylinder engine just like the Datsun my dad purchased for (tooling around) and running errands.<br />
<br />
Anyway, my dad preferred to drive a truck so the the little Datsun mostly sat in the driveway rusting. So, home from school with my chores and homework done, that car became an enticing distraction.<br />
<br />
The car had a stick shifter and a choke that I realized had to be manipulated just right to get the car started. It was kind of like a lawnmower, and I had plenty of experience with lawnmowers.<br />
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It started out as just a sneaky exciting experience, moving the car back and forth in our driveway. After gaining confidence and realizing that I could replace the gas I used with gas for the lawn mower, I was off to the races!<br />
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Before long, I was owning the entirety of Rocky Point road from my house to Crown Hill Elementary, and beyond. To this day, I can't help but wonder if my dad ever became suspicious about the lawnmower gas can suddenly needing to be refilled so often. I suppose, if he did, he never questioned me about it. I have a sneaking suspicion (having raised my own kids now) that my dad knew a lot more about what was going on in my life than I thought he knew.<br />
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With all this newfound experience it was no surprise that, when my friend J.T. (we'll just call him J.T.) and I later stole, I mean borrowed his mom's Ford Pinto Station Wagon to go joyriding around town, I had no problem driving it. Plus, the car had an automatic transmission so, bonus.<br />
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<br />
I know that the Ford Pinto developed a terrible reputation but this one was proven in battle. I believe we may have put a dent or two in that car that, as far as I know, remained unnoticed.<br />
<br />
Believe me when I say that J.T.'s mom was no better steward of that car than us. I remember one time I was at his house after school. I believe, at the time, he was living off of Almira Drive in East Bremerton behind, what used to be a Kmart shopping center where we would play shopping cart destruction derby behind the store. But that's another story.<br />
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So, we're at his house probably doing something outside and we hear a terrible scraping, banging sound coming from somewhere in the distance. The sound grew closer and we started to think maybe some car was dragging its bumper or muffler. It actually turned out to be something worse. As the car pulled onto his street, we saw a car dragging a 55 gallon drum attached to the driver door handle. And yes, it was the Ford Pinto Station Wagon driven by J.T.'s mom.<br />
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Apparently, J.T,'s mom overstayed her welcome in a pay parking lot in West Bremerton and the drum was attached to her car in an effort to make her pay the additional fee. Instead of paying, she simply drove home through town and across a bridge with the drum attached. We were both amazed at what she did but mostly, we were amazed the drum had not ripped the door handle from the car. That's how we knew the the Ford Pinto Station Wagon was a tough car.<br />
<br />
Oddly enough, I had no serious mishaps while illegally borrowing these cars for learning purposes. I did well in Driver Education class and passed my driving test on the first try.<br />
<br />
Most of my problems came later with my own cars and involved sex, drugs, or the pursuit of financial gain. But, again, those are all other stories.<br />
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Photo credits: weclips.com, favcar.com, oldparkedcars.comTrue Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-32908915101916433712018-02-21T05:49:00.003-06:002018-02-21T06:24:11.100-06:00Lyrical Inspiration<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_niS9psZhaA/Wo1kxJFe7sI/AAAAAAAABpY/41-7s9ioyFkR-7qOCOwQrbWY0aN-gRjEwCLcBGAs/s1600/inspire%2Bfrom%2Baturningpointdotcom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="560" height="227" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_niS9psZhaA/Wo1kxJFe7sI/AAAAAAAABpY/41-7s9ioyFkR-7qOCOwQrbWY0aN-gRjEwCLcBGAs/s400/inspire%2Bfrom%2Baturningpointdotcom.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Source: aturningpoint.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Do you listen to music when writing? I find music to be inspirational. Often, I listen to classical or something without words to keep me from distraction. If I'm deep into a draft I won't listen to anything at all. But, if I'm daydreaming or imagining a new story (my favorite part of writing) I like to listen to music with lyrics that make me think. I like lyrics that are like poetry or story set to music.<br />
<br />
Writing and music are on the same creative spectrum. Really, lyrics are nothing more than words in some poetic form put to music. In fact, I know of at least one writer that wrote the lyrics for a popular song many years ago. This is a writer of fantasy and famous for Elric and the Eternal Champion. Yes, that author is none other than <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Michael-Moorcock/e/B000AQ6Q6G/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_15?qid=1519209521&sr=8-15" target="_blank">Micheal Moorcock</a> and he wrote the lyrics, based on the Eternal Champion, to the Blue Oyster Cult song, Veteran of the Psychic Wars. Yes, I know. It's an oldie.<br />
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You're seeing now a veteran of a thousand psychic wars,</div>
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I've been living on the edge so long, where the winds of Limbo roar.</div>
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And I'm young enough to look at,</div>
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And far too old to see, all the scars are on the inside.</div>
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I'm not sure that there's anything left of me.</div>
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See? Even the music flows with the words to tell a story. Lyrics like this are perfect for creating a new story because, even though lyrics are a kind of story, they remain fractured and porous. What I mean is that song lyrics, like poetry, often leaves much to the imagination. One must fill in the blanks to create a story within the mind and that story is always unique to the individual.<br />
<br />
Moving from Fantasy to Science fiction, one can find plenty of inspiration. One of my favorites is from the band <b style="font-style: italic;">Rush</b>, and called simply "The Trees." Listen to this song and think about social science fiction, or even the current social situation in America.<br />
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For more science fiction, how about a song by Billy Thorpe. Never heard of him? I know, me neither. But I bet that if you grew up in the seventies and eighties as I did, you heard this song.<br />
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Who can resist a song with lyrics that start with: People of the Earth can you hear me?<br />
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But what about love, you ask? Sure, I can think of a couple of songs for that. Here's one about desperate love, sung by Barbara Streisand and written by the brothers Gibb.<br />
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Now, if you want something sexy and sultry to get those creative juices flowing, look no further than this scorcher by Fiona Apple.</div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
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You moved like honey, in my dreams last night.</div>
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Yeah, some old fires were burning.</div>
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I could go on forever like this but you get the picture. I know that most writers want complete silence when writing, I do too, most of the time. But when looking for inspiration, I often turn to music.</div>
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How about you? Does music inspire you in writing? It doesn't matter what genre you write in or if you enjoy writing poetry or prose. There is probably a song out there somewhere that inspired something within you.</div>
True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-52061698350933774192018-02-17T08:19:00.000-06:002018-02-17T12:49:25.631-06:00Mishap at Lover's Lane<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
This is a cautionary tale of misplaced intentions and ill-gotten love. It is a tale of desire, retribution, and karma.<br />
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I grew up in a place surrounded not only by saltwater bays but lakes, rivers and streams. We had a lake right in the town of Bremerton, and many others in the surrounding area.<br />
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One of my favorite lakes during my teenage years was Kitsap lake. Wildcat lake was a close second, along with many others like long lake, horseshoe lake, and Mason lake.<br />
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The harrowing and educational event I'll recount today happened at Kitsap lake.<br />
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A little background.<br />
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Growing up, I was always called "sweet" and "cute" by girls. Now, to a teenage boy, these are the things you DO NOT want to hear from girls. At sixteen years old and having never experienced the joy of gliding smoothly past third base and expertly over home plate, it became nearly an all-consuming mission to add this particular experience to the story of my life.<br />
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In my vast experience up to that point, which was gained nearly entirely from stories in Playboy and the infamous Penthouse Forum, I had never read the words "cute" or "sweet" before a couple proceeded in the act of consummating an intimate relationship.<br />
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Although, I was known for having a big heart and was always outwardly respectful, I also had no filter and a very unreliable moral compass. I mean, I'm the guy who, at fifteen, attended a church sleepover on Summit Avenue and spent the night trying to get into a girl's sleeping bag. But that's another story.<br />
<br />
Anyway, back to the story<br />
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I think it was late Spring. I'd been in a relationship all winter but things weren't progressing and we argued, although I cannot remember now what our dispute was about. My girlfriend and I were now on hold. I did not understand. I was hurt and angry.<br />
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In a short time, I developed a relationship with someone else and had a new girlfriend. At the time, I did not quite understand casual relationships. I had lots of friends that were girls. But I was very inexperienced at developing a relationship for things other than friendship. Oftentimes, my relationships went directly to the puppy love stage. At least I can say that I loved (in my own way) and respected girlfriends. Nonetheless, I did not seem to have a problem moving from one serious relationship to another.<br />
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So, on this occasion, I quickly found another girl to go out with. I planned this whole thing out meticulously and just knew that soon, I would be checking another experience off my list on my journey to sexual awareness.<br />
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I asked my new girlfriend on a date. Not just any date but a romantic date... at the lake... on the boat ramp... in the dark.<br />
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At the end of Kitsap lake there is a boat ramp made of large square cement blocks. At night in late spring a layer of fog envelopes Kitsap lake. If someone drives down the boat ramp far enough, the fog flows over the car completely shielding said vehicle from view.<br />
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The evening had arrived and I was prepared. My car was freshly washed and waxed. I'd spent twenty dollars at an actually hair salon to get my hair "feathered." I had blankets. I had some Boones Farm wine and even real glasses taken from the kitchen. I had condoms. Yes, I had left nothing to chance and was prepared for nearly every possible eventuality.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JCFXaju_Xaw/Wod9z3kysMI/AAAAAAAABos/iSBVduwYEGsy3ADDEw3iczQd0jjx97EIACLcBGAs/s1600/65buickskylark%2Bfrom%2Bautowizarddotca.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="416" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JCFXaju_Xaw/Wod9z3kysMI/AAAAAAAABos/iSBVduwYEGsy3ADDEw3iczQd0jjx97EIACLcBGAs/s400/65buickskylark%2Bfrom%2Bautowizarddotca.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My 1965 Buick Skylark looked exactly like the one pictured above.</td></tr>
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It's funny how men will wash their car as preparation for a date. I don't understand now but, at the time, it made perfect sense. Somehow I thought a freshly clean car was important to a date.</div>
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So, I pick up my date and drive down Kitsap Way toward the lake. I took the long way around because, for some lizard-brained reason I still cannot fathom, I wanted to drive past my previous girlfriend's house. Of course, I drove slow and put my arm around my date just as we were passing the ex's place.<br />
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I turned off the darkened country road onto a winding road that was really not much more than a paved path leading to the boat launch site. The path ahead became completely obscured with fog and there were no street lights to provide guidance. It didn't matter, I had been there before and knew exactly where to go. I could barely make out a dark spot ahead that was the boat ramp, so I turned off my lights and eased forward. My plan was to bring to car to a rolling stop with the front tires in the water. This would put the car low enough that the fog would romantically roll right over us.<br />
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With one arm over my date's shoulders and a cacophony of conflicting thoughts going through my head, I placed my foot gingerly on the brake preparing for a long stop like a train conductor bringing a train into the station. I was so happy with myself, I could feel a smile working its way across my face. I may have started this day as a virgin, but, by the end of this night, and by my own precise planning, I would be a whole different person. Just as the fog from the lake started clearly rolling over my windshield, signaling I was onto the boat ramp--Kabbam!<br />
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The front of the car suddenly gave way, falling out from under us before it was stopped quickly and violently with a solid thud. I feared my car had fallen into the lake. All thoughts of keeping my cool were gone. My date and I exchanged quick frightened glances and I found my arm was no longer over my date's shoulder but firmly gripping the steering wheel with the other hand.<br />
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It took me a moment to regain my composure. There was no water coming in through the door sills, that was a good sign. The car was not moving further into the lake, that was a good sign. I hadn't pissed myself, that was a good sign.<br />
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I rolled down my window and immediately realized that, even though we had rolled a couple of feet down the boat ramp, the front of the car had fallen into a large hole that use to be the rest of the boat ramp. Somebody had removed the big square concrete blocks.<br />
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In the military I learned that it is important to perform an investigation after a mishap or crash. This is not to place blame but to determine underlying causes, whether human or mechanical, so that future issues may be mitigated.<br />
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On this evening I learned that critical analysis and problem solving in the male mind is not compatible with the social and emotional complexities of the female mind. This is not to say that women are somehow inferior to men. Rather, just the opposite. Most men lack the capacity to combine analytics with emotions. Refer to the lizard brain mentioned earlier.<br />
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Well, of course, my mind goes immediately into problem-solving mode. I thought, "How can I get the car out of the water?"<br />
<br />
Suddenly, physics equations start flashing through my mind and the answer became clear. All I needed was some way to get extra weight onto the back of the car to act as a kind of fulcrum. I'm sure it would work. I could gun the gas and, if enough weight were removed from the front of the car, we could back right out of our predicament.<br />
<br />
I successfully hid the terror I felt inside and my voice did not crack even once when I told my date, "wait here, I'm gonna go check it out."<br />
<br />
I got out of the car and walked around the foggy parking area for something I could use to add weight to the trunk of the car and get us out of our jam. It was then that I saw the pile of big square cement blocks stacked up near the edge of the lot. I figured someone must have removed them to repair or replace the ramp. <i>A little warning would've been nice.</i><br />
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Unsuccessful in my quest, I returned to the car, mentally preparing myself to tell my date we were going to have to walk to get help. As I climbed into the drivers seat, it suddenly dawned on me. The weight I was looking for was sitting right beside me the whole time. A quick redistribution of weight and we'd be right back at the beginning.<br />
<br />
My plan was foolproof and all was back on. By the end of the night the only thing I was going to be missing was my virginity. That's when I made another fatal error.<br />
<br />
I asked my date to get out and sit on the trunk of the car and told her the added weight might help us back out of the hole that used to be the boat ramp.<br />
<br />
Her reaction to my request was not what I was expecting.<br />
<br />
Even in the dark, I saw the anger building as her eyes drilled laser holes right through my forehead. I swear, even in the dark, her face developed a faint red glow.<br />
<br />
Her anger must've subsided over the course of a few minutes because, without a word, she got out of the car and jumped onto the trunk. I cranked the car up, put the shifter in reverse, and pressed hard on the gas peddle. I tried everything. I varied the amount of gas. I jumped up and down in the seat while stomping on the gas. Nothing worked.<br />
<br />
I shut the car off and sat for a moment, succumbing to my defeat. By the time I got out of the car my date had disappeared into the fog. I caught up to her and tried to explain my reasoning but she refused to engage in conversation.<br />
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We eventually found some folks in a nearby house that let me use their phone to call my dad. Yes, I know that some of you find this hard to believe but there was a time when the cell phone, as we know it today, did not exist. One had to physically operate a series of buttons or turn a rotary dial in order to make a phone call.<br />
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With my dad on his way, we walked back to the entrance road of the boat ramp. Still not a word was spoken for the entire thirty minute wait for my dad. When my dad pulled the truck to a stop to pick us up, reflecting back at us in the glare of his headlights was a huge sign indicating the boat ramp was closed for repairs. Funny how I didn't see that earlier.<br />
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My dad must have sensed the tension and also didn't say a word while he hooked up chains to the back of my car and pulled it from the lake. He brought my date home while I drove my car home alone to await his arrival and possible scorn.<br />
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My dad had a big heart too and, although he did snicker occasionally at my folly, we had a talk that night. He convinced me that I would have to apologize even if I hadn't done anything wrong, and even if I was not going to continue to pursue a relationship with this girl. "It's the right thing to do," he said.<br />
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So, I learned that evening that one must not allow desires to overtake thinking. It was a good lesson. Did I always follow this lesson, likely not, but that's another story too.<br />
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Photo Credits: splat-osphere, northwesternfishingreports, autowizardTrue Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-10610184476034345832018-02-14T06:36:00.000-06:002018-02-14T09:51:45.670-06:00Love in Fiction<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YIqAdEtUy-A/WoQs2Ifs9nI/AAAAAAAABoc/Lm_mQz1eVYAjSXgzCveB7KNArj5QmH9GQCLcBGAs/s1600/8-lupercalia-thong-whipping%2Bfrom%2Blistverse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="445" data-original-width="632" height="281" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YIqAdEtUy-A/WoQs2Ifs9nI/AAAAAAAABoc/Lm_mQz1eVYAjSXgzCveB7KNArj5QmH9GQCLcBGAs/s400/8-lupercalia-thong-whipping%2Bfrom%2Blistverse.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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It's Valentine's Day so let's talk about love.<br />
<br />
Not just love in general but love in story.<br />
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The history of Valentine's Day is anything but loving and romantic. In ancient times, February was considered a month of purging, cleansing, and... Breeding. The name of the month is based on the Pagan word-Februa-which means "to purge."<br />
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Yes, I know most of the world celebrates Valentine's Day with cards and gifts and remembrance of St. Valentine. But, who was Saint Valentine? He was a member of the fledgling Catholic religion during the time of Roman rule. The Roman Emperor, Claudius forbid his young soldiers to get married while in service but Valentine (there may have been more than one in the span of a few years) performed these marriages in secret. Claudius discovered the defiance of Valentine and had him beheaded. We don't know for sure if he was martyred on February 14th but that is when the Roman Catholic church later decided to give sainthood to the name.<br />
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Coincidence? I think not. Why did the sainthood of Valentine land itself on February 14th? For the same reason most of our other christian holidays--the Roman-Catholic church was conquering through attrition. That's right. Most of our current christian holidays ended up being celebrated where they are as replacements to Pagan holidays. Think Easter, Christmas, even Halloween to a certain extent.<br />
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The Pagan holiday of Lupercalia during Roman rule, was celebrated on February 15th. Actually the celebration would last several days and reach it's height between the 13th and 15th where the official sacrifice would be made in hopes of propagating fertility and ease of childbirth. Funny how this celebration resembles Mardi-Gras.<br />
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Okay, enough history for one post. I hope I haven't lost you yet but the background serves to bring context to the rest of my rant, er, I mean... My blog post.<br />
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Many have an idealistic view of love and relationships. In real life, one wants a relationship to grow and flourish without incident or strife. Love is all hugs, kisses, passion, chocolate and sex. The truth is that it is not all the stuff I just mentioned that brings about lasting love. These things just help us get through the hardship and strife that is part of life. Hardship and strife-and conflict-is what makes the love strong and worthwhile.<br />
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In story, all of this is made greater. the story writer must sensationalize the hardship, strife, and especially, conflict, to create tension and allow release. This is what readers like.<br />
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By way of quick example, one of my own current works in progress includes a romantic thread between the main character and a supporting character. Kat McKendry is my main character and she comes into the story with her own baggage. She just split up with her husband and is forced to tuck tail and go back home to move into her parent's house until she can get back on her feet.<br />
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She's not been home long when she becomes involved in the investigation of the death of the husband of her best friend from high school... And this is where it gets complicated.<br />
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She gets called to the police station for an interview and who walks in? That's right, her unrequited heartthrob from her high school days. You can imagine that things aren't going to start well for them. First off, she's still technically married and now she's conflicted because the guy of her dreams is on the other side of what is becoming a murder investigation--and she's probably a suspect.<br />
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I know it seems impossible that anything will ever happen between them but I was sure to place just the slightest glimmer of hope into the story as I'm heaping on the conflict and tension between them. See, that's it. Story should never make it easy for two people to be romantically involved. In fact the story should be about the characters overcoming all the crap thrown at them but still somehow come together... Or not.<br />
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I recently read a story by Marie Savage that provides a good example of romantic tension between characters. The story is titled: <i style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Guarding-Hearts-Holiday-Love-Book-ebook/dp/B079J4JWRJ/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1518611296&sr=1-1&keywords=Guarding+our+hearts" target="_blank">Guarding Our Hearts</a></i> and uses the tried and true romance vehicle: The love triangle. In this case a young woman is conflicted between the love of two men. One of them is the brooding troublesome type and the other her fantasy from her high school years. She must choose only one and is halted by one calamity after another. I won't give away the rest of the story but suffice it to say there is plenty of conflict and tension, which makes her decision heartwarming but bittersweet, and conflicting.<br />
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So, all you writers out there. Happy Valentine's Day. Remember to keep your romantic threads full of strife, hardship, conflict and, therefore, tension because the real valentine's day is not about love and sunshine; it's about desire, lust, and purging.<br />
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Photo Credit: ListverseTrue Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-82359401199048903202018-02-10T08:26:00.000-06:002018-02-10T08:43:23.650-06:00Neah Bay: The Tragedy That Almost Was<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VtXpYserBFk/Wn79eXT4bzI/AAAAAAAABnw/e_MGZfbsAWMUorB3TadWb4MxioZqoZj7QCLcBGAs/s1600/freestockphotos.biz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="642" data-original-width="958" height="214" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VtXpYserBFk/Wn79eXT4bzI/AAAAAAAABnw/e_MGZfbsAWMUorB3TadWb4MxioZqoZj7QCLcBGAs/s320/freestockphotos.biz.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Credit: freestockphotos</td></tr>
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My Grandfather was an avid Salmon Fisherman. My Father was not, although he never stopped trying to match my Grandfather's success. Might I add that I believe, to this day, my Grandfather made the best smoked Salmon in the world.<br />
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One day, long ago, my father caught wind of some underground news that the salmon were hitting at Neah Bay. We didn't have a seaworthy boat at the time but My dad was not going to let that stop him from bringing in the fish.<br />
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What we had at the time was a twelve foot aluminum boat with a five horsepower motor, so that is what we would use.<br />
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Now, for those of you not living near a large body of water, an aluminum Jon boat was not what we considered "seaworthy." Sure these boats are fine for fishing in lakes, or even large inlets or bays, but not necessarily okay for fishing in the Straits of Juan de Fuca at the opening of the Pacific Ocean (although, I know now that it can be done.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m_wKz9wsm2Q/Wn7-ObHVQbI/AAAAAAAABn4/eQtxx7mdy2MN4DrJ9CNWS-ogDrLuXkBpACLcBGAs/s1600/makah-cultural-and-research%2Bfrom%2Btripadvisordotcom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="433" data-original-width="550" height="251" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m_wKz9wsm2Q/Wn7-ObHVQbI/AAAAAAAABn4/eQtxx7mdy2MN4DrJ9CNWS-ogDrLuXkBpACLcBGAs/s320/makah-cultural-and-research%2Bfrom%2Btripadvisordotcom.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">credit: tripadvisor</td></tr>
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So, not knowing (or caring) of the danger, we threw that boat on the top of camper shell of the truck, loaded all our gear and trekked to the north end of the Olympic mountains into Makah country.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gpaszp_sD5c/Wn7-P7lsxqI/AAAAAAAABn8/0dQtbvFwnJ4YlgvMgrLlEyv6XJ1Kx4DwgCLcBGAs/s1600/Makah%2BTribal%2BMarina%2Bfrom%2Bmarinasdotcom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gpaszp_sD5c/Wn7-P7lsxqI/AAAAAAAABn8/0dQtbvFwnJ4YlgvMgrLlEyv6XJ1Kx4DwgCLcBGAs/s320/Makah%2BTribal%2BMarina%2Bfrom%2Bmarinasdotcom.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Credit: marinas.com</td></tr>
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We launched out of the Makah Tribal Marina and were heading out into open water at Waadah Island within thirty minutes. It took us a little longer than expected as the boat was sitting low in the water and probably overloaded with our five gallon gas can, fishing tackle, life jackets, and two coolers full of beer. I couldn't complain though. I was given an entire six-pack of root beer for the trip. Of course, the root beer sat in the bottom of the boat, staying cool by the chill of ocean.<br />
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Throughout my childhood, my dad had me convinced that beer had to be kept cool or it would go bad, but soda pop, on the other hand, never went bad and did not need to be cool. I disagreed with this hypothesis for years, until I had children of my own, then I saw the light and not only agreed, but tried to convince my own children of this truth.<br />
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We spent a few hours trolling the deep shelf about two miles northwest of Waadah Point with no luck. We'd burned about half our tank of gas and decided it was time to start working our way back toward shore. With no Salmon in our boat, we decided to make our way back to Waadah Point and do a little Cod jigging. Cod is like the chicken of the ocean. It's not as good as Salmon but tasty enough for just about any dish and easy to catch. My Grandfather used to make Cod jigs and sell them.<br />
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The Cod jigs we used were basically a copper pipe filled with lead (yes, actual lead) with hooks and maybe a couple flasher spoons attached. That's it. To use the jig one would simply drift, bring the jig to the bottom and then reel it back in a turn or two, then occasionally move the pole up and down.<br />
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Back to the story.<br />
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As we were leaving our fishing grounds (still about two miles out) we realized two things. First, we realized weather was coming in from the west. The winds were picking up and bringing some low dark clouds with them. Second, we realized the tide was going out setting up a strong current toward the mouth of the Pacific.<br />
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This second thing was really not good for an aluminum boat and five horsepower motor. We'd only made it about a mile toward shore before the waves grew and whitecaps formed. Our little boat was getting tossed around like the S.S. Minnow.<br />
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Nonetheless, I was oblivious to the dangers before us and was still fishing.<br />
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The little outboard was throttled up as far as it would go but we seemed to be making no headway. In fact it seemed, at times, the shore was actually getting farther away, yet I was still fishing. The only thing that favored us in our attempt to reach shore was the wind. Unfortunately, the wind was also churning against the tide to create the huge waves with whitecaps.<br />
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Nobody said a word. We probably would not have heard anyway with the little outboard going full-blast. I wasn't scared, although I probably should have been. At my young age, I thought a was a pretty strong swimmer and five miles or so would be no problem if we capsized. Besides, I'd already had my near-drowning experience in the Skokomish River years before, and that's what prompted me to learn to swim.<br />
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It was then, with the boat rolling violently, forcing me to hold my fishing pole with one hand and hold on for dear life with the other, that I got a fish on.<br />
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"Fish on!" I yelled over the cacophony of the engine and the howling wind.<br />
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Even in our dire situation, I could swear I saw a smile spread across my dad's face, twisting the cigarette in his mouth to one side. The cigarette had long since been extinguished by the driving wind and rain.<br />
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I struggled to hold on to the fishing pole while reeling in the fish and trying to remain inside the boat. I was sure this was going to be a lunker salmon and would make the trip worthwhile. Yes, with a short stop at Port Townsend on our way home to get the fish to my Grandfather, we'd be eating smoked salmon in a week.<br />
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I fought the thing for what seemed an hour before I saw the first flashes of color in the boiling water. My heart sank when I realized the flashes were not of a silvery salmon, rather a muddy brown shark. I continued to reel until the fish came to the surface only to confirm that I had just brought in a dogfish.<br />
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I heard heard my dad say, over the wind, to cut the line and let it go but I couldn't do it. This was my prize and I couldn't let it go and remove proof that I hadn't been skunked on this fishing trip.<br />
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Meanwhile, the wind and waves continued to rise and realized that we were, in fact, being pushed farther from the shore. I still wasn't worried though. I had faith in my dad. He was my hero and, somehow we would come out of this.<br />
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It was at this moment that the engine died. We'd run out of fuel. Now, a small molecule of worry started inching its way toward my brain. With no power and only wind providing the slightest effort against the current of the outgoing tide, our little boat lost all forward momentum and was now heading toward Cape Flattery in into the vastness of the Pacific Ocean.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B6ZOBvHdGuY/Wn7-P3yJpRI/AAAAAAAABoA/UUtls77PxegWbyKrNQ95X3s9vvqb34cjgCLcBGAs/s1600/cape%2Bflattery%2Blighthouse%2Bfrom%2Bmarinasdotcom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B6ZOBvHdGuY/Wn7-P3yJpRI/AAAAAAAABoA/UUtls77PxegWbyKrNQ95X3s9vvqb34cjgCLcBGAs/s320/cape%2Bflattery%2Blighthouse%2Bfrom%2Bmarinasdotcom.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Credit: marinas.com</td></tr>
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At this point I thought, if we remained in the boat and were lucky, our bodies would be brought to Hawaii. If we were unlucky they'd find our bodies frozen to the boat somewhere in Alaska.<br />
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Well, sure. You must know by now that everything worked out since I'm here writing this and your here reading it. You know, just like in the movies, the hero must be put into the most unmanageable predicament before doing something heroic in order to save the world (or him/herself.)<br />
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Although we had no radio, my dad did have a flare gun and a pocket full of flares. By now, anyone who's read my blog over the last eight years has come to learn about my dad's love of guns.<br />
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It didn't take long for us to spot another boat in the distance. With a possible rescuer in sight, my dad fired a flare and waited to see if the boat was heading our way.<br />
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It took the fishing vessel nearly a half-hour to get to us in the stormy water but they brought us aboard and towed our little boat back to the Tribal Marina. We offered and they even accepted the shark as payment for saving our lives.<br />
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I learned something from our experience that day. What? No. I didn't learn to not going into the straits with a small aluminum dinghy. We still did that plenty of times. What I learned was to always check the weather and tides before venturing out on a saltwater fishing trip.True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-11281177270011436042018-02-07T06:07:00.000-06:002018-02-07T06:07:09.295-06:00Naming Fictional Characters<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We've all been there. You've got this great character in your head and you've already determined this character is going to save the world, but the only name you can come up with is: Bob.<br />
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This happens to me all the time. I discover a new story I'd like to tell and a character starts forming in my mind. Before long this character consumes me. I'm positive this new character is so strong that he or she will surely continue on through an entire series of stories. With the success of this series, Hollywood will come calling and the series will become a movie. The movie will be such a success that there will be a sequel. Because, you know, that's how these things work out.<br />
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But wait. How can this character do all these great things without a name? And it can't just be any name--it will have to be the best name ever. It will have to be <span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #990000;"><b>EPIC</b>.</span></span><br />
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How does one come up with the right name? Sometimes the name just seems to develop with the character in the writer's head. Most of the time, naming a character requires actual thought and study.<br />
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Here's a few things one can call upon when naming a new character:<br />
<ol>
<li>Imagination.</li>
<li>Research.</li>
<li>Friends, Family, Associates.</li>
</ol>
The first thing most authors do is imagine their character in the conduct of normal life (for the character) and wait for something to spark a name. This might be imagined dialogue with another character but it could be an action sequence or any other number of things where your character speaks to you in your mind.<br />
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I think writers today have an advantage over those of the past. Could you imagine not having the Internet as a resource for names? I'm pretty sure that's how Nabokov came to the name, Humbert Humbert. Although I'm sure there was extensive thought given to even this name as his name was represented symbolically with the initials H.H..<br />
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John Steinbech named his main character "Tom Joad" in <b><i>The Grapes of Wrath</i></b> but didn't let the reader know this until the middle of the second chapter! And, he won a Nobel Prize for literature. If you think about it though, the name "Tom Joad" or simply "Joad" as he was mostly referred to in the story, was a kind of earthy, ugly, terse name that fit perfectly into the theme or feeling of the story. I mean, the entire story was rather earthy and ugly but in a good way.<br />
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If you've reached the limits of your imagination and still have not found a name that works, you've entered into the research phase. Do not despair finding yourself immediately in research. Most writer's end up here eventually. Some start in research and allow it to stoke the fire of imagination. Writer's of fantasy and science fiction often start with research.<br />
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Start with name lists.<br />
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The Internet is awash with name lists and name generators of all kinds. Many will refer you first to baby names. This can be productive especially if you are looking for a popular name or a historically correct name. These lists come in many forms and you can find names by popularity, time, ethnicity, or even meaning.<br />
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One name generator I particularly like comes from Seventh Sanctum. you can find it by clicking <a href="http://www.seventhsanctum.com/generate.php?Genname=quickname" target="_blank">HERE</a>.<br />
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Always remember to reapply your imagination when using a name generator. By way of example, I used a common name for a character in a current WIP in which the name itself becomes a small part of the story. The name I choose was Mark Stanley. I know this name seems very common and boring and that is the point. He is a supporting character and secret heartthrob of the main character. She makes fun of his name because it is so bland and also, it is like two first names. I know it's a small thing but in this case, the name actually adds something to the story, however minor.<br />
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The third item on the list above asks a writer to reference friends, family, and associates. I included this because all these may provide an excellent resource for names. When talking with friends, family, or associates, you can usually gain more insight into a particular name. These sources can not only provide you with unusual names but possibly a story that goes with the name. Oftentimes, a writer will pick up on the social or personality aspect of a name, which helps the naming of their fictional character. For instance, if you hear of someone name, say "star" and their is a story as to how that name was given or they have a name that seems to fit their personality, you may suddenly find yourself putting the pieces together for your character's name--even if turns out to be a different name then the name someone told you about.<br />
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"But wait," you say. "Are there any rules or lists I could follow to help with name creation?"<br />
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Sure. It seems everybody has a list nowadays.<br />
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Again, a simple search on the Internet will usually reveal dozens of articles on the subject. Here's a couple to get you started. I chose these two because they seem to be a good representation of the majority of rule sets.<br />
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<ol>
<li><a href="http://www.writersdigest.com/online-editor/the-7-rules-of-picking-names-for-fictional-characters" target="_blank">Elizabeth Sims 7 rules published by Writer's Digest.</a></li>
<li><a href="https://thewritelife.com/6-creative-ways-to-name-your-fictional-characters/" target="_blank">Andre Cruz's 6 creative ways to name characters.</a></li>
</ol>
Once you've acquired a library of possible names for your character (I like to make lists) the fun part, or hard part, begins. Evaluate possible names against your character and the type of story you are writing. While none of these "rules" I discuss next are set in stone, they do provide a path that will lead you in the general direction of a great and fitting name for your character.<br />
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Does your character's name fit their physical characteristics? If your character is extremely tall, why not give them a name that reminds the reader of height, For instance, the name given could simply rhyme with tall, or lanky, or any other derivative of height. The name could literally be a representation of a physical characteristic. For example, James Grant (known by pen name, Lee Child) developed the main character of his Reacher series from the character's physical trait of height. James is so tall that, when he was at the grocery store, others would ask him to "reach" things for them on high shelves. So, in developing his tall main character, he accentuated the height of Jack Reacher.<br />
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Another general rule is to name your character according to genre or type of story they occupy. If you are writing a thriller, mystery, or crime story, the character's name is normally limited by syllables. Normally either first or last name will be only one syllable and the other only two (like Jack Reacher.)<br />
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I published a story under a pen name titled <i><b><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B008U3VE6I/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1" target="_blank">Lexi's Run</a></b></i> and ran into trouble with the supporting character because of his name. This supporting character was originally named Joseph Johnson because I wanted everyone in the story to call him JJ as his nickname. Nonetheless, the name nearly ruined the story because it just didn't sound right rolling off the tongue. On top of that, the name was stereotypical for my character and maybe even a little racist. I changed his name to Kyle Frost and expanded his personality around his last name of Frost. This new name really enhanced the story. Sure, these were very small enhancements but they brought depth and realism to his character.<br />
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If you are writing a romance, choose a name that is unique and flowery. Here it's okay to have a name with many syllables as long as it doesn't sound ridiculous when said aloud.<br />
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If you are writing fantasy (especially high fantasy or epic fantasy) your character's name can break all the rules of modern English, with limits, of course. Lindsay Buroker wrote a series called <i><b>Emperor's Edge</b></i> with a main character named Aramintha. Kind of catchy.<br />
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No matter what genre your story finds its home in, The one caveat to naming is that the name, no matter how outlandish, should remain believable for your character.<br />
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One final note about naming characters is that you should keep your secondary characters in mind as well. I know that some characters in stories are considered disposable, but some thought should go into naming them. For instance, if you spend valuable time and effort researching your main character to be sure the name fits the time period, ethnic background, race, mythical connections and every other conceivable consideration, don't bring your secondary character into the story with some bland and/or inappropriate name. You never know if that secondary character may warrant a grander role in a future story.<br />
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So, I hope this article has provided you with something to think about when naming fictional characters. Just remember that every rule you'll hear or read about naming characters can, and has been broken successfully. Nonetheless, a poorly named character can be a drag on the rest of the story.<br />
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Please feel free to comment if you have more suggestions.True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-69934750158467194022018-02-03T08:17:00.000-06:002018-12-16T21:44:03.047-06:00The Flamethrower Incident<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Why do young boys always seem to have a fascination with fire? I remember learning how to make a fire in Boy Scouts. It was a great skill, and I'm glad to have it but, as time passed, I found new and exciting ways to make fire.<br />
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With my newly acquired fire-making skills, I was appointed, along with my brother, the duty of burning trash. Yes, we burned all our burnable trash to minimize the cost of trash pick up. Ultimately this exercise gave us a chance to practice "stop, drop, and roll," after learning that fire will travel backwards to the gas can even if you pour it real hard onto a burning fire--but that's another story.<br />
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I grew up in Washington state. For reasons unknown, ants would create these big tall ant hills that became a nuisance if they were in or beside a pathway.<br />
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So, on this particular day, with my newly perfected fire making skills, I determined that it was up to me to destroy a particularly large and nasty ant hill that was encroaching into our backyard. With the ant hill so large and the ground wet (it's like this a lot in Western Washington) I realized I would need to attack this problem in a more unique and proficient way.<br />
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It was at that moment that a vague memory took shape that I believed could solve my problem. I remembered my Dad using some kind of wand thing that would throw fire in a stream. I remember him making quick work of some stinging nettles and underbrush with this device.<br />
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Surely, I thought, if I could find this thing, I would make quick work of the ant hill. My parents would come home and, seeing the good works and near-miracles I performed, would proclaim me hero of the Stratton clan. Yes, I could see it in my mind. These great deeds along with my proven bike jumping and wheelie skills would secure me an honorable place in my family's history. My deeds would be talked about for generations. So, I set off to find the tool that would make me a hero.<br />
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It didn't take long to find it. The thing was propped along the side of the house at the end of our woodpile, because, you know, that's where you put flammables--right next to the woodpile. Not only was it completely intact but, BONUS, it was full of fuel. It was the coolest contraption I'd ever seen. The thing was all green with three tanks and a hose that extended out to something that looked like one of those old time machine guns from the movies. the whole thing was attached to a backpack frame.<br />
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The thing was heavy. I mean, really heavy. It probably weighed as much as me. I can't remember to this day but somehow I managed to get it on my back. and stumble toward that big ant hill.<br />
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Standing in front of the ant hill, prepared for the battle of my life, I realized, I had no idea how this thing worked. It had a lever on the left side that I assumed, had to be pumped before the thing would work, so I pumped the handle until I could pump no more.<br />
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The next task was to figure out how to operate the two triggers. One trigger was at the front and looked like a standard gun trigger. Upon closer inspection, it was confirmed that this must be the thing that made the spark. From there, it was clear that the trigger in the back was how the fuel was released.<br />
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It's funny how, as a child, one can so quickly figure out complicated contraptions when said contraption is forbidden. But given a simple math problem, said child will stare at you with a blank face for hours.<br />
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The time had come for these ants to meet their maker. I stepped forward until I was within five feet of that ant hill and, by some strange miracle, managed to do just the right thing to get that thing to fire. And, fire it did! Surprisingly, there was some recoil to this thing. The recoil knocked me back a step and raised the wand thing upwards. Some of the flames hit the ant hill but most traveled some unknown distance into the sky.<br />
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The recoil of this thing and the forceful stream of fire it created shocked me at first. I was hesitant to try again, so I watched the small portion of ant hill I managed to hit, burn and smolder. You know that little voice in your head that tells you when you've done something very bad? Yeah, I thought I heard that voice but it was quickly replaced with a voice that yelled, "Damn, that was fun. I must do this again." Don't judge me here. I mean, which voice are you listening to when you get on that roller coaster?<br />
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So, after mentally recounting the steps that made it work last time (because, honestly I probably had no idea how that thing worked) I took aim at the bottom of the ant hill and fired away. Again, the recoil pushed me back and sent a stream of flames into the unknown. Undeterred, I made a quick recovery and fire again... and again.<br />
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I was still firing the thing, sending a destructive stream of flame and hellfire into that ant hill, when I first heard the sirens. I realized later that one of our neighbors must have called the fire department when I first shot the thing.<br />
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You know that little voice I talked about earlier? It came back, It was yelling now, and this time I was listening. I just got the feeling those sirens were coming for me--call it a premonition. Oddly enough, I took some weird pleasure in the fact that the flame throwing thing was out of fuel anyway.<br />
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The fire truck arrived first. Firemen jumped out and immediately got to work, pulling out fire hoses and connecting them to the hydrant, which just happened to be within feet of the old ant hill. It was then that I first looked beyond the carnage of the ant hill and discovered that, somehow the entire tree line was ablaze.<br />
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I was transfixed by the size of the fire in the trees. I stood there, dumbfounded and in awe, still holding the wand of the flamethrower, as they went to work with their hoses. The firemen made quick work of the blaze and had it mostly out by the time the police arrived.<br />
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By some cruel twist of fate, my father arrived home right behind the police. One of the police officers walked over to me and smiled, while taking the wand from me and removing the flamethrower from my back. The other police officer walked toward my father, but he wasn't smiling.<br />
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An hour went by and I was now sitting on the front steps waiting for my father to finish his conversation with the police. Well, it wasn't really so much a conversation. The two police officers were conversing while my father sat in the back seat of their car with the window up. I remember wondering at the time why he was sitting by himself in the back of the car while the police officers talked outside. Was he that mad? I could feel that pressure building in my eyes that sent tears down my face and my chin was already starting to spasm involuntarily at the thought of the spanking that would ensue when my father finally decided to get out of that police car. The fire department was long gone and the police had put the flamethrower in the trunk of their car.<br />
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My mom arrived and went directly to the police officers to talk. I saw her occasionally look at my father in the back of the police car and at me during her conversation. When their conversation ended, my mom walked right past me and into the house without saying a word. The police got into their car and drove away... with my father still in the back seat.<br />
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My father did not come back home until the next morning. That morning, I learned that there is a difference between a spanking and an ass-whooping. Later, I learned that it is illegal to be in possession of a working military-grade flamethrower that has been modified.<br />
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The trees around my house eventually grew back but those ants never dared set feet in that spot again. I shouldn't be held entirely to blame for this incident as this would prove to not be the only time my father would be found with illegal and/or modified weapons in his possession. I remember one time he was actually carted off in a boat after being cited for having more than the legal limit of oysters, which led to the sheriff's deputy finding some kind of modified weaponry in his truck. But, that's another story.True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-46833587105733641672018-01-31T05:13:00.000-06:002018-01-31T12:14:53.031-06:00Writing Dreams in Fiction<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When is it okay to add dreams or flashbacks to a story?<br />
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I'm afraid there is no clear and defining answer to this question. Most of the research (or opinions) I've found on the subject imply that dream sequences and flashbacks can work in story if certain conditions are met. All of my research indicates that the current view on <i>beginning</i> a story with a dream or flashback is, if you actually want to sell your work, don't do it.<br />
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Of course, for every rule of writing, there are countless examples of that rule being successfully broken. So, what are these rules? Again, no definitive answer, but I've found some considerations for using dreams and flashbacks in fiction.<br />
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If you follow K. M. Weiland (and everybody should follow K. M. Weiland) she expresses her opinion on using dreams in fiction on her youtube channel.<br />
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Others share K. M. Weiland's views on when to use dreams in fiction. Below, I've compiled a short list of generally agreed upon rules that apply to dreams and flashbacks in fiction.<br />
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<ol>
<li>Is the dream or flashback absolutely needed for the story?</li>
<li>Is your proposed dream or flashback clear and succinct?</li>
<li>Does the dream or flashback contain or add to tension and/or conflict in your story?</li>
<li>Does the dream or flashback provide character growth?</li>
<li>Does the dream or flashback provide information to the reader they could not get any other way?</li>
</ol>
I'm sure there are more rules that might apply but these five seem to be the consensus among numerous articles on the subject. I do not believe that your dream or flashback must positively answer all five of the above questions, but it should be a yes for at least two or three. Of course, all five would be great and anything less will require it to be written in such a way that it grabs at the readers and keeps them reading.<br />
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Keep in mind that others have done this successfully so, with practice, you can too. Although most successful dream sequences come from literature, there is plenty of room for success in the commercial fiction market. Click <a href="https://www.dreams.co.uk/sleep-matters-club/10-unforgettable-dreams-in-literature-from-the-top-authors/" target="_blank">HERE</a> for 10 stories with dreams.<br />
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I was looking for a way to provide backstory in a current WIP and thought that a dream sequence may be a possibility to achieve this. So, I wrote quick draft of a scene using a dream to provide some backstory.<br />
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The jury is still very much out on whether writing a scene this way relays backstory while meeting at least some of the criteria listed above. I'm providing this scene below for evaluation (yours and mine.) I'm not certain this will ever be used in the WIP but the exercise proved useful regardless of the fate of the draft.<br />
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Some background first. In this story, Kat Mckendry is drawn into a murder investigation when an old friend's husband is poisoned during a large celebratory get-together. Now, while she's trying to help her friend, she's also dealing with a recent break-up after finding her husband literally in bed with one of his clients.<br />
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I stormed into the room as I'd done every night in my dreams for the last few weeks. This time was different though. This time I was armed with a baseball bat. Last time it was a pair of hedge shears. Before that, a tazor. I remember the first time I was armed only with my foul mouth and a dangerous right hook.<br />
Same as before, my philandering photographer husband was busy doing the horizontal bop with one of his stick-thin models and too busy to notice me until the echo of the slamming door pierced the cacophony of his lover's yelling and moaning. By that time, I was half way across the studio apartment with the bat raised over my shoulder. When I got close enough, I was planning on swinging for glory. I had no questions. I didn't want any explanations. I mean, it was all pretty much laid out there in plain sight. I should've seen it a long time ago. After all, I was once one of his clients.<br />
By the time I reached the edge of the bed, the waif model had covered up and was staring at me as if I were an uninvited guest while Jake whimpered and pleaded for me to calm down. He was naked and exposed without the bed sheet, and his little soldier still stood at attention. That's why I had the shears last time. I raised the bat over my head, preparing to bash it onto the bed or into his head - I was still deciding - when a phone started ringing. Jake was now holding my phone with that smug look still on his face. Why was he holding my phone out to me? How did he get my phone? The phone kept ringing and Jake faded into the darkness.<br />
"Hello?" I mumbled into my phone. It was still dark. My phone was the only light except the little bit creeping through the closed curtains. The caller ID showed "unknown." </blockquote>
I'm hoping the reader can get a sense of Kat's personality - her snarkyness - in this scene. But does the scene positively subscribe to the rules above?<br />
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Was it absolutely needed for the story? I suppose only I can answer this as I'm the only one, at this point, that knows the whole story. I say yes, because it is the foundation of the subplot. Kat's soon to be ex-husband will make an appearance later and make things worse than they are for Kat now. See, Kat has moved back to her home town hoping to get away from the situation with her husband and to think about what to do.<br />
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Notice that this dream sequence was written strictly for story. Yes one wants the story to be realistic but real dreams are muddled, unclear, cryptic, and usually forgotten soon after waking. This dream was written in what I call "story realistic form."<br />
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Was it clear and succinct? The reader will ultimately decide this but I think it was made clear in the sequence, what caused her to leave her husband.<br />
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Does this scene add tension or conflict? I'm not so sure. It is difficult to develop tension or conflict in backstory. I think there is tension in the scene but also feel it is dissipated as fast as the dream when the phone rings. Just a preview for my loyal readers. The call is from the police asking her to come to the station to answer some questions. I mean, she was serving drinks and likely served Robert Chase the poison that killed him.<br />
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Does the scene contain character growth? Again, not so sure. I believe the scene may show some character depth but this scene by itself may support character growth as it provides a basis for Kat's decision to start a new life.<br />
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Could the reader get this information any other way? I certainly could've had Kat recount her experience during conversation with another character. So, while this may not be the only way to convey information to the reader, it may be the best and most efficient way. Again, the decision can only be made when the scene is put against the rest of the story.<br />
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The decision (and yes, it should be a conscious decision by the author) to use dream or flashback in a story can only truly be tested and confirmed by readers. The writer is often too close to the story and has inside information that affects their perception. Really though, the decision to use these tools in storytelling should be made only after thoughtful consideration, and trying different methods. The reader, whether it be an editor, beta readers, or yourself after putting the work away for awhile, are the only true measure of success in writing dream sequences and flashbacks.<br />
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Personally, I can say that writing this scene in dream sequence, even if it is not used, is a valuable exercise. It still provides valuable insight into how the story might form and develop.<br />
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What are your thoughts on dreams and flashbacks in story writing? What are your thoughts on the scene shown above? Was it readable? Was it easy to understand what was going on? Post your thoughts in the comments section below.<br />
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Photo Credit: josephinewall.co.ukTrue Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-41234771548218514332018-01-28T11:23:00.000-06:002018-01-28T13:27:41.236-06:00Mercurochrome Wars<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Aah, those childhood memories, full of broken bikes, broken bones, Mercurochrome, and flamethrowers. Did I say flamethrower? yes, but that is another story.<br />
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Looking back at all the stupid things I attempted in my childhood, I'm absolutely amazed that I managed to survive to adulthood.<br />
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Everyone likes the feeling of freedom and when I was a child, my bicycle was the epitome of freedom. This was before the time of bike helmets, knee pads, elbow pads, and all that other safety equipment we make our own children wear these days. Back then, the only safety equipment I had was a rubber band or string around my right pant leg so it wouldn't get caught in the chain. If we couldn't find these items, my friends and I would just tuck our pant legs into our sock when riding. I know what you're thinking and, even though I lived on the west coast, I still wore socks.<br />
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My bike was my pride and joy. I believe the popular bike for kids in the early to mid seventies was made by Schwinn and it was called the Stingray. My bike was made (I believe) by Murray and sold through JC Penney. It was called the Swinger. My bike had none of fancy accouterments as the Stingray.<br />
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My Swinger had no fancy gear shifter. it was single speed. It had no hand brakes or fancy front suspension. It did come with a slick tire on the back, big rams horn(?) handle bars, and a banana seat with sissy bar. It also had chrome fenders that I used to polish so much I might have been close to rubbing off the shine.<br />
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The Swinger may not have been as fancy as the Stingray but it was one tough ombre. Through the years, it survived jumps that would make Evel Knievel jealous, countless wheelies, the weight of hundreds of folded newspapers. It even survived a few seasons of towing a lawn mower through miles of trails and roadways.<br />
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I was fearless on my bicycle and would take any opportunity to demonstrated my skills to family and friends. Unfortunately, I was not as skillful at actually maintaining my mode of transportation. There were many times a task as simple as replacing the chain would require help from my Dad to figure out what to do with all the extra parts in order to get the bike operational again.<br />
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On one particular occasion, I did not ask for assistance from my Dad because my Grandmother was visiting, and no self-respecting young man is going to come crying to his Dad in front of his Grandma.<br />
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So, with my Grandparents just arriving and my bike recently reassembled, it was the perfect time to impress another family member with my fantastic bike-riding skill and absolute mastery of jumps and wheelies.<br />
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As soon as I saw them pulling into our driveway, I ran outside without waving or otherwise acknowledging their arrival, and jumped on my recently reassembled bike. I ran the bike up the hill as quickly as my legs would move to a spot that assured me enough speed to perform the miracle I was planning. By the time I got the bike turned around, my grandparents were getting out of their car. I yelled and screamed for them to "watch this" as I pushed the bike off and started peddling with all my mite.<br />
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Assured that I had gotten their attention, I peddled harder in order to hit the small bump in our driveway that served as a water runoff in a way that would propel me into a grand aerial jump that I was sure would establish a new world-record for airtime from a non-motorized vehicle.<br />
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Just after I made my launch from the speed bump and was approaching the apex of my orbit, I noticed something speeding and bouncing down the hill in front of me. On closer inspection, I realized the object was the front wheel of my bike. A quick look down confirmed it, and I'm sure, in that instant, the broad knowing smile on my face turned to something that more closely resembled existential terror.<br />
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I could be wrong but I could've swore I saw my grandma reaching into her purse for something at a time when my very life was likely nearing it's end. Was it a camera? I would not have put it past anyone in my family to think first of getting a picture at the moment of my death because they all liked mementos and they especially liked capturing Jimmy (that was me) in all of my most embarrassing moments.Or, was she reaching for something else? If she had in her hands what I thought she had, I was going to have to recover quickly, if I lived at all, and run like hell.<br />
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I tried to pull back on the handlebars to prolong the inevitable hard landing. Just maybe, I thought, I could land on the back tire and just ride into the side of their car or the house, which seemed a better way to stop than face-planting into the concrete. If I could pull that off, I would surely go down in the annuls of Stratton family history. The story would be told for generations of the emotional boy who used to hide under a table and cry (yes, there is photographic proof) suddenly redeemed himself by pulling off something truly amazing and surely impossible by any other mortal human being. But, as you've probably already figured out, that would not be the case.<br />
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When I hit the ground I remember everything in slow motion. The front of the bike settled much lower than normal and, when the front forks finally touched down, I was thrown over the handle bars like one of those entertainers being shot from a cannon at the circus. In that split second, I assumed perfect form with my arms outstretched and my body straight. Well, I suppose it would've been perfect form if I were a high diver. Nonetheless, I can assure you that it was not perfect form for an unintended landing onto concrete.<br />
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I believe I hit the ground in nearly the position as when I was airborne. The t-shirt and shorts I was wearing offered no protection. I'm sure that one could find traces of my DNA embedded into that driveway to this very day.<br />
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I lay there on the concrete for a moment preparing myself for when the pain made its way to my brain and I dared to glance at my body to witness flowing blood and protruding bones. That's usually when the crying started. My grandma was running toward me and what I saw in her hand confirmed in me something I feared more than death itself-Mercurochrome.<br />
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Damn my broken body, I sprang forth and was running at full speed before my grandma could close the distance between us. I thought all I had to do was get out of her reach and she would give up and go into the house, but she gave chase. Thus began another battle in the never-ending Mercurochrome Wars.<br />
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She ran surprisingly fast and, with the help of grandpa, was able to pin me into a corner. About the time I started feeling the pain of my botched attempt at glory, she had opened the bottle of that torture serum and was slathering it into my open wounds. I can tell you from experience that there is not much worse one can experience than Mercurochrome being pushed around a skinless wound against embedded sand and grit. It's worse than waterboarding. I know because I've experienced waterboarding while attending SERE school in the military. Waterboarding may make one think they are going to drown but Mercurochrome makes one feel like they've already died and are strapped to a table in the devil's torture chamber. I'm sure you get the idea.<br />
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By the way, the Mercurochrome my grandma had was some old forgotten bottle without a brush. It was simply a glass rod with a ball on the end that would have to be continuously dipped into the jar, or the jar simply poured over the wound and the inefficient glass rod used to moved the death acid around on damaged and sensitive flesh. It was the 1970's for crying out loud. I'm not even sure where she got this stuff. Probably mail-order from Howard's house of horrors.<br />
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Well, she managed to use the entire bottle on my wounds and I managed to suffer through it without too much wailing. I must say that stuff seemed to help wounds heal faster. I don't know if it actually helped grow skin back or chemically burned the skin so that it appeared smooth and unbroken.<br />
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What did I learn as a veteran of the never-ending Mercurochrome Wars?<br />
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What? Are you thinking that I learned to be more careful on my bike? Don't be silly. Of course, not.<br />
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I learned that if one can survive the occasional dowsing with Mercurochrome, then much of the trials of life seem small in comparison. I must say, although I fought against it at the time, I always knew my grandma did all of it out of love, using the best medicine she knew of at the time. That's gotta mean something.True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-43261006217054041222018-01-26T06:45:00.004-06:002018-01-26T08:06:01.951-06:00Sailing Takes me Away<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mujy5nRTAII/WmshHJb5VLI/AAAAAAAABi8/sOO3B_tfVtIpu3ZNI_qOV0SlnPdig1hbQCLcBGAs/s1600/101556_0_070320091633_0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="455" data-original-width="606" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mujy5nRTAII/WmshHJb5VLI/AAAAAAAABi8/sOO3B_tfVtIpu3ZNI_qOV0SlnPdig1hbQCLcBGAs/s400/101556_0_070320091633_0.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Christopher Cross has got nothin' on me. Okay, well, he did have that song, but other than that...<br />
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I love to sail whenever I get the chance. Unfortunately, my little sailboat has been on the hard (out of the water) for some time now while I made repairs, maintenance, and upgrades. I haven't been sailing since the fourth of July last year, and that adventure ended rather quickly with some serious issues. Issues like, the boat getting pushed into the dock by high winds upon departure, tearing a hole into the side. That did not end our adventure. It was a bilge plug failing and our boat filling with water that ended the adventure. We were forced to limp back on flaked sails and outboard motor power to watch the fireworks from the shore.<br />
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Of course, my sailing thoughts, like nearly everything else in my life are best expressed with some short poems. Here's a couple.<br />
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Cast your worries all into the emerald sea</div>
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Watch them sink to ocean depths as you sail with me.</div>
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Let us slip into the morning sea and chart a course to nowhere</div>
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Let us hoist the sails and trim them windward to the rising sun</div>
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Let us chase dolphins and spy the birds with wing upon the air</div>
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We'll tack and jibe to bend the sails or beat a downwind run</div>
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And when we've run the course to end we'll double back to go again</div>
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So when the sea reclaims the sun and our legs still wobble on the land</div>
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With longing hearts, our next adventure will be planned.</div>
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Hope you enjoyed them. My next posting will bring us back to nostalgia with another story from my childhood. Of course it will be snarky and sarcastic. Is there really any other way to remember the journey from childhood into adulthood without crying?</div>
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Photo credit: yachtworld.com</div>
True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-61947527456936797672018-01-23T18:06:00.000-06:002018-01-23T18:06:17.552-06:00The Social Media Trap<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LcWRltXUnho/WmcVqyJpb5I/AAAAAAAABis/xILefrCeXNAc2TSLu1kN1gSsSrbR37r2ACLcBGAs/s1600/socialmedia%2Bitinfogroupdotcom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="330" data-original-width="600" height="220" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LcWRltXUnho/WmcVqyJpb5I/AAAAAAAABis/xILefrCeXNAc2TSLu1kN1gSsSrbR37r2ACLcBGAs/s400/socialmedia%2Bitinfogroupdotcom.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Social media can be fun but it can also suck you down a hole so deep, you'll be drinking tea with the Mad Hatter.<br />
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I've noticed lately that nearly our entire population keeps their cell phone so close-at-hand, they might as well have it surgically attached to their bodies. But hey, don't get any ideas, I was just kidding. I often encounter drivers on the road weaving in front of me, barely staying within their lane and slowing down. That's the clue - when they slow down - that are likely reading or sending a text. Maybe they're even surfing the net or playing a game while simultaneously trying to drive a car. Most of the time, this is confirmed as I pass them. According to the <a href="http://www.nsc.org/learn/NSC-Initiatives/Pages/priorities-cell-phone-crash-data.aspx" target="_blank">National Safety Council</a>, cell phone use while driving accounts for twenty five percent of all vehicle crashes in the United States. Whew, I'm glad we got our safety speech out of the way. Even the news folks on television check their phones or tablets often to answer some tweet or get direction from their producer.<br />
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All this input, information, and social connection is a great tool that increases our span of intelligence and influence. But, how much is too much? At what point do we become addicted to our social media tether? At what point are we going to be living in an episode of The Twilight Zone or Black Mirror?<br />
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We are at a point in history where social media dominates nearly every aspect of our lives. And those that are not connected, are not counted.<br />
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I remember watching a movie a few years ago that showed an example of where I think we are headed as we learn to combine social media with marketing. I think it was <i>Minority Report</i> starring that extremely talented but extremely diminutive Tom Cruise. At some part of the movie, our hero was walking somewhere and, as he walked, electronic billboards lit up with advertisements targeted specifically to him.<br />
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This is already happening on all your electronic devices today. It's no coincidence that when you research something, purchase something, or go to specific sites, those little advertisements that pop up along the sidebar of whatever your looking at are suddenly advertising what you just researched.<br />
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<i>It's a conspiracy, man. I'm telling you. our entire existence is just one big Truman Show. We're all stuck here fumbling around thinking we have free will when really, we're all just curiosities being watched and controlled by some alien species much smarter than us.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Okay, I digress. Slipped into conspiracy mode for a bit there.<br />
<br />
Let's face it, the majority of us are addicted to social media at least at some level. How often do you check your facebook page? Twitter? Tumblr, Pinterest, Linkedin, Snapchat, Instagram, or any other social platform?<br />
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Here's the catch. People are social and most crave social interaction at least at some level. Social media not only provides some form of interaction, it empowers one to express thoughts without the repercussions of face to face communication. What this new social media does not provide is a basic understanding of social interactions and the unspoken rules of the social contract. I believe one of the most important things lost in this situation is privacy. Boundaries become blurred when a mass of people can be reach through a few simple clicks or keystrokes. The repercussions of this ease of distribution is magnified in children and young adults who may not fully understand how their actions affect others.<br />
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Now, with all the negatives I've mentioned about social media you might be asking, how can I use social media for my benefit? How can I use it if I'm a writer? Do I even want to chain myself to social media?<br />
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Writer's and other creatives these days need to develop a keen awareness of how social media works and how it can be used to your benefit and advance.<br />
<br />
If you are a writer, or really, just about anybody wanting to better use social media, you must remember this first.<br />
<br />
Rule number one of using social media in a way that will advance your name or agenda is this: Social media is social. This may seem oversimplified but one must remember to be social. In other words, don't use social media platforms like facebook or twitter to constantly post advertisements for your work. Sure, it's okay to let people know when you are publishing new work but don't keep filling their newsfeed with your hype until they unfriend you.<br />
<br />
Be social. In addition to my real name, I write under a pen name. I have a facebook account under my pen name with many friends. I also keep an author page on facebook under the pen name but found it difficult to keep up with. So, if you are using a pen name or trying to keep a particular persona, remember that you still must gain friends, interact, comment, and keep in contact with others. On my normal facebook page I am simply me. I do all the things that everyone else does on facebook but, with certain limitations. The trade off here is that, even though I am me on this page, I'm also a writer so I want to appear somewhat professional while remaining true and honest. Some people find this easy while others struggle. Just keep in mind that platforms like facebook are mainly for social interaction not as much for marketing. I suppose what I'm trying to say here is that you shouldn't just get on facebook to sell your stuff. Instead, use facebook for social marketing, or marketing yourself through your positive actions.<br />
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I look at twitter as a kind of news link type of social media. I use twitter mainly to follow people I'm interested in and to spread the news of blog posts, new book publications, small accomplishments in my craft, or to guide a reader of my feed to a new book offering or blog post.<br />
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Rule number two. Limit your social media platforms so that you don't become overwhelmed trying to keep up. I concentrate mainly on facebook, twitter, and my blog. My most personal and honest interactions are on facebook but I make a special post whenever I have a new blog post. I basically use twitter to inform others of blog posts. Which leads to rule three.<br />
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Rule three. Whatever social media platforms you choose, couple them with your professional web page or blog in a cohesive manner. I use my blog almost as a catch-all outlet. I've posted personal essays, serious articles, comical posts, childhood memories, my thoughts on zombie apocalypse survival-you name it. But, it's all me. I like to think that I provide something for other writers on my blog as well as potential readers of my work, and even friends and family. This is the one thing I've personally done that contradicts the general rules of blogging for writers, but I'm working on it. Consistency is probably more important than continuity here. Of course, I've broken that rule too by letting my blog go defunct for nearly six months at a time. Again, I'm working on it.<br />
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In closing, I would like to say this to all my brooding, reclusive writer friends out there. The days of the anti-social writer being supported by a publishing house are over. If you want to make it as a writer these days, you're going to have to socialize with others and market yourself. No one can make it alone in this new era and no publisher is going market and promote your work without some help from you.<br />
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So, get busy building your platform, get socializing, and get back to writing.True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-65448349870873748962018-01-20T08:42:00.001-06:002018-01-20T11:02:51.453-06:00Penning about Poison<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N7PvYffG3gw/WmNT_p-UNcI/AAAAAAAABiM/WDnNKqNo9mgwKMo8B59OkN9RkymBhUi7ACLcBGAs/s1600/poison-bottle.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N7PvYffG3gw/WmNT_p-UNcI/AAAAAAAABiM/WDnNKqNo9mgwKMo8B59OkN9RkymBhUi7ACLcBGAs/s1600/poison-bottle.png" /></a></div>
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My search history is a scary place. If one were to delve deep enough, I'm sure all kinds of strange, weird, and downright nasty things would surface. In the past, I've searched medieval weaponry, gunshot wounds (both entry and exit) body decomposition, and other questionable subjects. Lately, a large part of my research history is about poison and poisonous plants.<br />
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Not just the plants themselves but how one might use them to kill another. What is the most effective poison, the easiest to procure, what dosages are needed to ensure death (quick or not) and which plants do or do not show up in a toxin screen.<br />
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If the conspiracy theory is true that the government keeps a record of all our communications, interactions, phone calls, and web searches, I could easily become a suspect. I just hope that no one living anywhere near me dies of poisoning anytime soon.<br />
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For a current work in progress, I started with the premise of poisoning. I didn't want to portray the standard poisoning as we've all seen or read in mystery stories since the dawn of time. I wanted this poisoning to be fresh and modern. Oddly enough, my antagonist started forming as my research progressed.<br />
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For writers like me, research is a must if you want your story to be believable. Of course, the first thing I did was head over to Amazon and look for books about poisons. I purchased a Writer's Digest Book from the Whodunit series called, oddly enough, "The Book of Poisons." I did not provide a link as it is no longer available in digital form and, in my opinion, is not in-depth enough to warrant the twenty to thirty dollar purchase price for the paperback.<br />
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Don't get me wrong here. Writer's digest books is a great place for wannabee authors to start but, in general, just do not provide the depth of knowledge needed by anyone serious about story research. A good believable story, especially in the technical, thriller, and mystery genre can only be devised through research.<br />
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I don't mean "buying a book on amazon" type of research. I'm talking about the kind of research that lands you onto the FBI watch list.<br />
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So, after much research, my antagonist will kill her victim using a concentrated oil of spotted water hemlock. This is one of the most abundant and most poisonous plants in North America. Who'da thunk. Plus, it can be readily found within the setting of my work in progress.<br />
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This may seem to go against the normal conventions of developing story and I just know I'm going to get some nasty comments about how I should've started with a character. But I had already formulated a basic plot sketch around the protagonist character.<br />
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The antagonist character materialized around the chosen murder weapon. Will all this technical stuff find its way into the finished manuscript? Not likely, but without this background information, I feel the antagonist would be flat, two-dimensional, not at all noteworthy.<br />
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So, I guess the point of this post is two-fold. First, to tell the world how excited I am to be writing a story I hope will be intriguing and entertaining. Second, to say to all the other writers out there that research can go a long way in making your characters, and stories seem more real and believable.<br />
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photo credit: strangehistory.netTrue Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-3112775342595459102018-01-17T07:44:00.001-06:002018-01-17T07:44:20.150-06:00Snow Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yoASlurFr88/Wl9OEmllSkI/AAAAAAAABh8/nIjKtnJl95YaxKMSVgOMqVnkUqoDKEOvgCLcBGAs/s1600/0117180720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yoASlurFr88/Wl9OEmllSkI/AAAAAAAABh8/nIjKtnJl95YaxKMSVgOMqVnkUqoDKEOvgCLcBGAs/s400/0117180720.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Last night it snowed.<br />
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I know what you're thinking, <i>Who cares,</i> right? This is not the snow many of you are thinking of. We did not receive snow in feet, or even inches. We received a <i>dusting</i> of snow.<br />
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Nonetheless, Schools are closed, roads are close, the Governor has declared a state of emergency.<br />
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Before you break your back falling off your chair laughing, remember I live in the South.<br />
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I grew up in the Northwest in a midsize town in Washington state called Bremerton. My wife grew up in Colorado. In those places, snow was quite normal. Every year as winter approached, the snow plows and sand/salt trucks were prepared for their winter work. When the ice and snow came, these machines were put to use, plowing and clearing, and the roads stayed mostly clear and passable.<br />
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Little or none of that machinery exists as far south as I live. So, when we get this dusting of snow and the roads ice up, that's how they stay until the sun comes up and melts everything away. I suppose what I'm saying is that the amount of snow one receives is not as important as the ability to clear it.<br />
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I must say, with all respect to my friends and family still living in the Northwest, I remember those cold, wet, slushy, snowy days of my youth with little fondness. I've become quite accustomed to the six-week winter of the South. I now complain not of the miserable wet cold, rather, the dry static air of winter.<br />
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I wrote a quick haiku about our snow day (yes, I'm sure there will be only one) and it goes like this:<br />
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We got a snow day</div>
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Just a light dusting of snow</div>
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But still, a day off</div>
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Hope you all enjoy your snow day. And for you Northerners with five feet of snow on the ground, regular day. Just put on the bigger jacket.</div>
True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-88849551127011991852018-01-15T14:07:00.000-06:002018-01-15T14:07:45.966-06:00Does Your Story Have Character?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">E</span>very story needs character. Sure, many stories are driven by plot, especially the kind I like to write but, it is how the character in the story reacts and grows that makes a story unique. Let's face it, there are only 20 master plots that every story ever written falls into according to the reasearch of Tobias and others. The list has been as low as three and as high as 36 but most agree on 20.<br />
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But, if you couple these master plots with an infinitesimal number character traits, along with an author's individual style, that's what gives every story a chance to be unique. So, even if you are writing a plot-driven story, the uniqueness or freshness of the story will depend on how your main character (and other characters) react to all the threats and heartache you put to them.<br />
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In order to be successful at this you must know your character. You must guide the development or arc of your character as the story progresses. My personal style of developing a story is with at least a minimal amount of outlining. I know many writer's who consider themselves "pantsters" and scoff at the thought of outlining because kills spontaneity.<br />
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While it is best to find some guide as a reference, one can certainly push forward with the concept of a character and let the character react to the things you throw at them throughout the story. Be warned though, that pantsing with the development of your character can lead to inconsistencies.<br />
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Jerry Jenkins produced an article on the 10 steps to creating and developing a fictional character. I've provided a link to the article <a href="https://www.jerryjenkins.com/character-development/" target="_blank">here</a>. I try to keep these steps in mind while I'm creating, and later, developing, a character. By way of example, I'll go through the 10 steps using a character I'm creating for a work in progress. This character needs to be strong, unique, and realistic as I have hopes of this story becoming a series. I've already got ideas for at least two additional stories besides the first.<br />
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Step 1: Give the character a name.<br />
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My character's name is Katherine Mary Mckendry but everyone will call her Kat. I think that Kat McKendry has a nice memorable ring to it. What do you think of when you say the name? What is her nationality? can you make any assumptions based on her name as to her ancestral religion? I'm sure most of you can, and so the name gives insight into her background. Oddly enough, this name is actually a kind of conglomeration of relatives on my wife's side of the family. Except for the Katherine part. I used that name specifically so I could use the nickname, "Kat." And, by the way, to contradict her nickname, she has an unnatural fear, distrust, dislike, whatever, of cats.<br />
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Step 2: Nail down the character's physical traits.<br />
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Kat is 5'3" with brownish red hair that turns to a ball of frizz when exposed to high humidity. More on this later as it pertains to the location of the story. She's always had pale clear skin but does not tan well. She slightly overweight but can handle herself physically. I mean, at 5'3" wouldn't anybody appear a little overweight? She has other minor physical traits that I will reveal through the course of her adventures. Even though it is good to know these things about your character, I feel it best to sometimes reveal these things through the eyes of another character. Do to the nature of the story: darkly comical, somewhat noir, sarcastic, it will be written in first person POV.<br />
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Step 3: Give your character a backstory.<br />
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Kat was born in New York but spend the majority of her childhood all over the world. Kat's father was a military policeman, her mother a psychiatrist. Her father was stationed at a nearby military base in late nineties and then went to Iraq while the rest of the family remained in Dothan, Alabama. fearing more overseas tours, her father left the service and began work a a policeman. He quickly moved up the ranks and became of the the best police investigators for the city in recent history. Kat has a brother, Caleb, with his own story and a sister (youngest child) Ann Marie or Annmarie. Their stories will have influence on Kat's story later.<br />
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Anyway, Kat never thought she liked living in a small town and attended college in New York after high school. While there, she met a photographer, dropped out of college when he convinced her she could be a model, and eventually found him (literally) in bed with one of his clients, which is why she's back in Dothan now. The story of their relationship is a subplot all by itself and is revealed throughout the first episode of this proposed series.<br />
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I have much, much more background on Kat and most of the other characters in play and don't want to bore you with volumes of life events but suffice it to say, a solid backstory is crucial if you want to develop a character over a series although I will probably never fully reveal everything.<br />
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Step 4: Make your character human.<br />
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Kat has many flaws. She's short and somewhat chubby, nearly every day is a bad hair day, she drives like a maniac, she's naturally distrusting of strangers, she holds grudges, she's stubborn. But all of these faults or weaknesses could easily be turned into redeeming traits given the proper situation. Kat's kryptonite? her devotion to friends and family. She blindly believes and supports everything from her close friends and family without question. This gets her in trouble when her best friend from high school, Melinda Chase, is accused of murdering her own husband and Melinda begs Kat to help her.<br />
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Step 5: Give your character hero qualities.<br />
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As mentioned in step four, most of the flaws of my character, Kat can be turned into redeeming qualities if the situation calls for it. One thing I want to add here is that many main characters these days are dark heroes or even anti-heroes. That's okay. the flaws and redeeming qualities don't necessarily have to be right for the righteous society, they just have to be right for the main character. Under a pen name I wrote a (very adult) story about a succubus demon. Her nature as it was, she needed to find men, seduce them, and literally take the life out of them during sex in order to continue her own survival. Yes, what she was doing was wrong but it is how she survived. Although morally incomprehensible to most, I tried to write her character without judgement. I rewarded her by finding her a love that she could not kill... but that's another story.<br />
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Step 6: Delve into the inner life (the psychology) of your character.<br />
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This was the most difficult step for me for this story. As mentioned at the beginning of the article, this story will be plot-driven, in the style of those pulp fiction stories of the past. This is my favorite style of writing and I've recently discovered that nearly all my writing is in pulp style, but that's another post altogether.<br />
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For Kat, her inner thoughts, fears, reactions, come from her background. Yes, she has an unnatural fear and hatred of cats. Somewhere, some time in her future, she'll have to deal with that. Also, with all the things I'm going to throw at her: being accused of murder, being forced to stick her neck out for her best friend accused of murder, a budding relationship with an old friend complicated by the fact that she's still technically married, being accused of tampering with/planting evidence... the list goes on. these are all things that will help her grow internally and become stronger for her next adventure.<br />
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Step 7: Draw from your own experience for character development.<br />
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What kind of things have happened to you in your own life that caused you to grow. I'm sure that everyone can draw upon something here. I've got thousands of events or lessons from childhood to last week can be used for story fodder. I often write about some of those things on this blog. The great thing about using your own experiences is that it is like getting a do over from your own past. How often have you looked back on some event in your life and wished (knowing then what you know now) you would have done something different? This can be used to help your character grow with that benefit. You have the power to make your character's growth as easy or harsh as you want. Of course, oddly enough, readers prefer it when you put your characters through absolute hell before rewarding them with growth.<br />
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Step 8: Keep the character arc in mind throughout.<br />
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This is where the outliner or "plotter" has a distinct advantage over the "pantster." By putting this all down on paper or in a file first off, you don't have to rely so much on what might be fuzzy memories to recall character traits for future growth. Here's where psychology comes in, your memories of original character traits will change or become distorted as you advance through writing your story. This is just my observation, but it come from my own experience. As your character grows within your mind, you become very connected, nearly infatuated with the character. Some of those original character flaws and quirks will no longer be seen as such because, in your mind, your character has been growing all along. Problem is, as in my own case, you won't even know this until you get to the end of the story and realize none of this growth actually took place on the page. Your character's arc will just be a flat pathway with a few steps here or there.<br />
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Step 9: Show don't tell.<br />
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I know what your thinking. Why is this mantra showing up in a post about creating and developing characters? I wondered this too when I was reading the article. This is a huge facet of story writing and volumes have been written explaining what this means and how to accomplish it. I think what it means here is to <i>show</i> character instead of merely explaining character. Let your character's personality come through in action and dialogue instead of narrative.<br />
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Step 10: Research, research, RESEARCH.<br />
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I haven't even finished the first story in what I hope will be a series with Kat McKendry yet but I've had to research police procedures, look at maps of the local area, gain a basic understand of how a local bank works, you name it. Most of the personal character data came from personal experience but everything that supports what the main character must do and how she grows required research so that it would seem more authentic. I know of a few authors that purposely write within genres that they feel requires less of this research stuff. One might think that writing a fantasy or science fiction where you create your own worlds requires less research but that is never the case. In my story of a succubus demon I spent months researching mythology, ancient and current, to get a feel for how to create this character. After much more research I decided to give her the name "Azra." Why? because the name Azra in ancient times meant maiden or virgin. Yes, I wanted that irony in her name even though I doubt any of the three people that read that story new about it.<br />
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I imagine building and developing a character (or characters) for a story is something like sculpting a statue way back in history. The sculptors started with a chunk of clay or a hard stone and carved or chipped away until it became recognizable. They then had to continue this arduous work until they formed details that nearly brought the object to life. If you've ever had the chance to see some of these statues carved mostly in Europe, you'd be amazed at the complexity.<br />
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Even though it seems as if it is more work than necessary, a fully detailed character with the background to grow and develop as the story progresses could turn an average work into something readers can't get enough of.<br />
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What are your thoughts on character creation and development? Tell us in the comments about your own system, or something you would add to this process.<br />
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Photo credit: academia.orgTrue Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-21049235484429093992018-01-13T07:25:00.000-06:002018-01-13T07:25:11.621-06:00Should Writers blog?<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JTTD5CWjX48/WloHgIiteZI/AAAAAAAABhc/eDx1dELDGigSCCMBSug7apbfC5ojJC3PgCLcBGAs/s1600/61NrP0RoNDL._SX258_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="292" data-original-width="260" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JTTD5CWjX48/WloHgIiteZI/AAAAAAAABhc/eDx1dELDGigSCCMBSug7apbfC5ojJC3PgCLcBGAs/s1600/61NrP0RoNDL._SX258_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Credit: amazon.com</td></tr>
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This article serves to answer the question posed in the title and as a review of the Writer's Digest Book, "Blogging for Writers." The book is available <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Blogging-Writers-Authors-Build-Successful/dp/1599638967/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1515847169&sr=8-2&keywords=blogging+for+writers" target="_blank">here</a> from amazon.<br />
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I've had this blog for about seven years now with limited success. Mostly because I claim this is a writer blog but all my commercial writing thus far has be distributed in another genre using a pen name. I'm hoping to change that in the near future.<br />
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Unfortunately, this blog has been, more or less, a hodgepodge of fleeting thoughts I've managed to hold onto long enough to put onto the screen. Truth be told, as a writer, blogging made little sense to me.<br />
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So, I'm wandering through the local bookstore and spot this book "Blogging for Writers" from Writer's Digest books and thought that it might give me some insight or magical formula to couple my writing desires with some tangible blogging outcome.<br />
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This book is 176 pages and filled with pictures and links to successful writer blogs. Other than that, the information contained within is rather general but applicable. I don't mean to use the term "general" as a negative. Rather, this generality is what helped me the most.<br />
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The book literally starts at the beginning, explaining the history of blogging, what the word even means and the basics of how to get started. It explains the differences between the different blogging platforms (mainly Blogger and Wordpress) and reasons to choose one over another.<br />
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I must say, at this point that I am not advertising this particular book over any other. I just happened to pick it up and provide feedback to its usefulness. I also must say that I am somewhat partial to physical books for reference over digital. That's just me. I like to be able to highlight, dog ear pages, make notes in the margins.<br />
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I also compared most of the information in this book with my go to source of writing information: <a href="https://www.janefriedman.com/blog/" target="_blank">Jane Friedman's blog</a>. Specifically, one particular post from long ago about blogging found <a href="https://www.janefriedman.com/blogging-for-writers/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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The one thing I like about Jane's blog post is that she states that if you don't like to write on a blog, then you shouldn't have one. While Jane's blog post serves as a guide to get one started, <i>Blogging for Writers</i> is like a detailed road map with GPS voice directions on how to get through all the little details of blogging. It takes the would-be blogger from how to start a blog, including naming the blog and deciding what the blog will be about (something I never did) to monetizing a blog or selling your work.<br />
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The only negative I found with the book is that some of the specific information provided is outdated since Blogger has recently updated some of their features. For instance, I loved the section on tying the blog to other social platforms but ended up nearly destroying my page because I didn't realize that blogger had recently combined the share buttons into an icon resembling something one might see on their phone for sharing.<br />
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I would recommend this book to any writer wanting to expand their influence and reach by blogging. I'm using it as an ongoing reference in order to improve my own blog and will put more emphasis on tasks I never thought of before like creating a blogging schedule and narrowing the scope of the blog. As far as blogging advise goes, The takeaway I got from both the book and Jane Friedman's blog post is that one should post on their blog at least twice a week, at least until they gain enough of a following to create more in depth posts with less frequency.<br />
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Do you have any advise about blogging for writers? Anything you have personally found that works, or doesn't work? Let me know in the comments section.<br />
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<br />True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-75002166660545167382018-01-10T05:08:00.000-06:002018-01-16T08:34:22.286-06:00Misadventures of a Latchkey KidI ponder modern technology and remember how things were before cell phones and the Internet.<br />
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Without modern technology to babysit us and keep us sedate in a chair staring at pixelated images, how were we kept from venturing out into the wilderness and doing stupid things. I mean, in the 1970's, if a child wanted to watch television after school, the only choices were The Partridge Family and The Brady Bunch. Gilligan's Island was already in reruns by then.<br />
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Our limited opportunities led us to do something nearly unheard of today - go outside and play. Of course I loved being outside so this was not a problem. Back in those days, it was common on the weekends for parents to banish their children from the house until dark. On the weekdays, it was pretty much the same but with no parent at home in case of emergency; no cell phones attached to our bodies to call anyone case of emergency. It's amazing that kids those days managed to survive through childhood. You know, with Darwin's theory and all that.<br />
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This life lesson was one of humility, grace, and forgiveness. It surely took all of these to keep my parents from beating me to death that day. It all started innocent enough. I was home from school and down at the bay with a friend playing with our G.I. Joes. By "playing" I mean putting them into their jeeps and setting their fuzzy hair on fire before launching them down the rocky shore into some tidal pools.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j5tj0GDt95Q/WlT_25QNH2I/AAAAAAAABgg/hvTOEZB6WIUy7OH89jLQ05kqkTwUcsTcwCLcBGAs/s1600/gi-joe-vintage-doll-figure.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j5tj0GDt95Q/WlT_25QNH2I/AAAAAAAABgg/hvTOEZB6WIUy7OH89jLQ05kqkTwUcsTcwCLcBGAs/s320/gi-joe-vintage-doll-figure.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Source: icollectactionfigures.com</td></tr>
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We soon grew tired of this because, really, how many times can you set a Joe's hair on fire before his face melts off? If you're seriously pondering the question, then I can tell you from experience, the answer is three. So, bored with our destructive antics, we were ready to move on. We tried going back to the friend's house and playing "Big Time Wrestling." That's were we would pretend to fight and throw ourselves to the walls and floors with great enthusiasm. This usually turns into real fighting and a cooling off period of the friendship for day or two. Although the real fighting never ensued, we were kicked out of the house by an older sister, finding ourselves back at the water's edge. That's the great thing about living near the water-there's always something to do and, as long as one was confident in their swimming abilities, nothing was too risky.<br />
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We roamed the rocky shoreline for a few minutes, turning over rocks and looking for crabs or any other little critters underneath. Before long we ran across some old shark lines we'd run out at some low tide in hopes of hooking Jaws or some long-extinct megalodon. Our thoughts never extended beyond the setting of the lines and what might be used for bait, so when one of the lines provided some resistance to our retrieval, we were completely dumbfounded.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AGZXbkZRVBg/WlUAIu9WJOI/AAAAAAAABgk/Br3xhFmhFV4P-x0JEo72rdVucb_vCBK9gCLcBGAs/s1600/megalodon-shark-facts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="287" data-original-width="550" height="166" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AGZXbkZRVBg/WlUAIu9WJOI/AAAAAAAABgk/Br3xhFmhFV4P-x0JEo72rdVucb_vCBK9gCLcBGAs/s320/megalodon-shark-facts.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">source: sharksider.com</td></tr>
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I pulled the line, hand over hand, from the murky depths of Poseidon's realm. Visions flashed through my mind at what monstrous creature might be attached at the end of the line. The slimy beast made its first appearance as a distorted flash of moving shadow but I knew at a glance what it was.<br />
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When at last, the water dweller broke the surface, I discovered I had a shark on the line. Sure, it was only a dogfish shark but dogfish sharks still have incredibly sharp teeth and a spike on the front of their dorsal fin filled with poison - so I was told.<br />
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Seeing the three foot long monster on the rocky shore, I was overwhelmed with pride. I'd fought a monster and won. This was something I needed to share with my parents. Things were different back then. One was not considered grown up just because of age. Rather, one "showed" their maturity by actions. One was only considered "grown up" if they did their chores, chopped wood, slaughtered chickens for dinner, held a job, moved out of the house. Sure, catching a shark was not one of those things but, at the time, I thought it was a good start.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EukvylUnVDg/WlUAY8TO3rI/AAAAAAAABgo/GgTEfXU2CHk0jNM2xqxD8yV1yoQ3mh9xwCLcBGAs/s1600/spiny_dogfish_1%2Bfrom%2Bnjscuba.net.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="237" data-original-width="500" height="151" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EukvylUnVDg/WlUAY8TO3rI/AAAAAAAABgo/GgTEfXU2CHk0jNM2xqxD8yV1yoQ3mh9xwCLcBGAs/s320/spiny_dogfish_1%2Bfrom%2Bnjscuba.net.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Source: njscuba.net</td></tr>
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Unable, or unwilling, to attempt pulling the hook out of the shark's mouth across those razor-sharp teeth, I simply cut the line and wrapped the end around a stick. I used the stick as a handle to drag the dying fish nearly a mile through the woods, across a stream and up a muddy trail to my house. I was so happy when I arrived at my front door. I imagined how proud my parents would be when they gazed upon my marvelous achievement.<br />
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I wanted to preserve my catch so I carefully lifted the shark to my chest and carried it through the kitchen and over the carpeted floor to my parent's bathroom tub. The white porcelain of the tub provided an excellent backdrop for the brownish-grey shark as it lay stiff, motionless, and half-curled in the tub as if it were a perfectly cooked steak resting on a fancy dinner plate.<br />
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My task complete, I reveled at my own achievement for a moment before losing interest and venturing back outside to find some other fun thing to do.<br />
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By the time my parents arrived home, I was deep into another adventure. As I think back to that day, I can't help but wonder if I would have been able to explain the carcass in the bathtub along with a recounting of my glorious and daring achievement of winning against a ferocious beast, they would've understood.<br />
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If I could've explained, my adventure I may have been rewarded with admiration instead of a spanking.<br />
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I'm not sure of the moral of this story but for some strange reason, I still think back to that day as one of my prouder moments up to that point in my life. But, if you are a young child, I would suggest against the leaving a dead shark in a bathtub for your parents as proof of your daytime adventures.True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-85486189599662840302018-01-07T08:28:00.000-06:002018-01-07T08:47:37.369-06:00New Year, New PostThe recent change in the look of my blog comes with the first post of the year. Well, to be honest, the first post in nearly a year-at least a half year anyway.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k9hpRbDFRWA/WlIuSpERu0I/AAAAAAAABgE/0RtAUul50scHSyjLcsxlANZtFZcHT0GwgCLcBGAs/s1600/best-blog-ever.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="310" data-original-width="216" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k9hpRbDFRWA/WlIuSpERu0I/AAAAAAAABgE/0RtAUul50scHSyjLcsxlANZtFZcHT0GwgCLcBGAs/s1600/best-blog-ever.jpg" /></a>With this bright and shiny new year (I just love even numbered years-don't judge me) comes a new resolution to reacquaint myself with my nearly defunct blog. It may seem I've disappeared from the timeline of history but I've just been silently moving in the background, preparing for changes to my writing formats and subjects. I've even moved back to Ywriter from my once beloved Scrivener as my favorite for getting my thoughts organized and recorded, but that's another post.<br />
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So, what can one expect from this blog for this year? At least one person has expressed interest in stories of my antics throughout my childhood. These stories are numerous and mostly true, so I plan to post more of them. I will not set a schedule or timeline for these posts right now as I would just be kidding myself to think I would stick to it.<br />
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Along with my rantings of past greatness and present folly, I will continue to post the occasional article filled with deeply researched facts about otherwise useless subjects. Hey, that's how I roll!<br />
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So, hold on to your hats folks, with this first post, the year is shaping up to be a whirlwind of blog posts and activity and I promise to be more active... for this first month anyway.True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-65616178678379189662017-06-24T14:09:00.000-05:002017-06-24T14:41:20.622-05:00Have You Met the Purple Prosenator?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-56X_DfkMxvw/WU56xvLbD2I/AAAAAAAABbA/N0HddDytdSMLo9JckholOWC8ft1qFbngwCLcBGAs/s1600/20170624_073922.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-56X_DfkMxvw/WU56xvLbD2I/AAAAAAAABbA/N0HddDytdSMLo9JckholOWC8ft1qFbngwCLcBGAs/s320/20170624_073922.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
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I know what you're thinking. What is a purple prosenator and why would anyone want one? Well my friends, <i>the</i> Purple Prosenator is a special vintage typewriter that I created for those times when I must resort to the use of purple prose to enhance the commercial success of certain writing projects.<br />
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First of all, you might be asking, what is purple prose? Well, I'm glad you asked. the term purple prose is believed to come from the poet Horace. He coined the term to reference a writing style that was, to say the least, verbose and over the top.<br />
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In those times, as it seems now, the color purple represented royalty, high societal standing, and maybe even a little bit of pompousness in ones character. Of course not everyone was of such caliber so many desiring to be seen as such would sew patches of purple cloth into their clothing in an attempt to appear so.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DowVWnb00Dg/WU59Xt_K_II/AAAAAAAABbY/rJbqanuWp1oGsatGH3AVkJsKXQyECl0lwCLcBGAs/s1600/romantic-times-magazine-cover-july-1992-fabio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1170" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DowVWnb00Dg/WU59Xt_K_II/AAAAAAAABbY/rJbqanuWp1oGsatGH3AVkJsKXQyECl0lwCLcBGAs/s400/romantic-times-magazine-cover-july-1992-fabio.jpg" width="291" /></a>Nowadays, the term has taken on a slightly different meaning specifically referencing some writing in the romance genre. Hey, don't knock it, many careers have been catapulted to lofty heights in this genre.<br />
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Most would admit that the picture above conjures up visions of lovers embracing; a strong alpha male sweeping up a fine damsel (usually in distress) as the sheer fabric of her blouse falls gently across her shoulder exposing her heaving bosom. Breathlessly she mewls, "take me." He gives no response but understands the full weight of her murmurings as he gazes intently upon her alabaster globes heaving to as if begging for his touch. She feels the heat of his labored breath upon her exposed fleshmounds, and her body responds intuitively with a shiver that penetrates to her nether core... </div>
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You get the picture. Most readers in modern times associate purple prose with over-the-top explanations of feelings and flowery euphemisms for body parts. Believe it or not, there is evidence that readers like this purple prose as long as its use is very VERY limited. </div>
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Okay, with details of the word out of the way, let's get back to the post. Yes, it is about my purple prose writing typewriter.</div>
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She started out as a Royal Senior Companion, serial number RS-3053420. born in 1955 and marketed for students. It was inexpensive but still very functional. Although the Royal Typewriter company left out many of the features commonly found on higher-priced models, they did not waiver on quality. I know she may seem rather long in the tooth by today's standards but she still functions nearly as well as she would've in her prime.</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LV-V6qiLGGE/WU6DTCgCzEI/AAAAAAAABb0/9V_jEWT7XNY_PqGtbyzvmmbN9fp64_DPACLcBGAs/s1600/April%2B18%252C%2B1955%2BLife.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="349" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LV-V6qiLGGE/WU6DTCgCzEI/AAAAAAAABb0/9V_jEWT7XNY_PqGtbyzvmmbN9fp64_DPACLcBGAs/s640/April%2B18%252C%2B1955%2BLife.png" width="468" /></a></div>
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For the next fifty years, I remain unaware of her travels. I do not know of her trials and tribulations; what kind of people cared for her, or what kind of things she was responsible for instantly enacting into printed form.</div>
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I purchased her from the Goodwill store of Orange County, California in September of 2016 for $8.99. She was sent in a padded box and arrived at my home about two weeks later where she began her transformation.</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DAm7ME9b0Go/WU6FpAQvJaI/AAAAAAAABcA/uzUSIVnSW6YMmVvMN36mCQSBb1vkbxmlwCLcBGAs/s1600/0915161711.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DAm7ME9b0Go/WU6FpAQvJaI/AAAAAAAABcA/uzUSIVnSW6YMmVvMN36mCQSBb1vkbxmlwCLcBGAs/s400/0915161711.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The picture above shows what she looked like on the day of her arrival. She was in reasonably good shape for her age with just a few keys sticking and a couple of her type hammers bent. I removed the case from her frame sanded her down to bare metal before applying a base coat of purple and black. I will spare you the details of what she looked like with no coverings or paint. I mean, unless you're into typewriter porn.</div>
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Once this was complete, it was time for some flourishes and some bling! I gave her a nice lace pattern around her sides and then two coats of glitter with a couple layers of clear in between for that deep multilayered sparkle.</div>
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After what seemed endless applications of clear with wet sanding between each coat, she was ready to be put back together . </div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pJSWTDnKV9o/WU6ILY7DvRI/AAAAAAAABco/b392u28GaDsWX6VgHuOv4W5XI0QRgxUhQCLcBGAs/s1600/0618171702b_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pJSWTDnKV9o/WU6ILY7DvRI/AAAAAAAABco/b392u28GaDsWX6VgHuOv4W5XI0QRgxUhQCLcBGAs/s640/0618171702b_HDR.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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If one wants to appear "royal" and over-the-top, then attention to detail is in order. This is why the Purple Prosenator also uses a purple ribbon. So, the prose created by this machine will truly be purple.</div>
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True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8096600932757908629.post-34937192769779886262017-06-03T07:16:00.000-05:002017-06-03T07:16:46.202-05:00Fidget Spinner: Fact or Fallacy<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Tb8sE0KB8kA/WSrHPMdXXJI/AAAAAAAABUM/n5QFLpyRGBYnU5s2slzVZzkPRp_d6U3cQCK4B/s1600/41G1eFdHIoL.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Tb8sE0KB8kA/WSrHPMdXXJI/AAAAAAAABUM/n5QFLpyRGBYnU5s2slzVZzkPRp_d6U3cQCK4B/s640/41G1eFdHIoL.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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How much would you pay to possess the newest fad? Fidget Spinners can cost as little as a couple dollars (US) to upwards of eighty dollars for one with all the bells and whistles. Although none of these actually have bells or whistles. Some fidget spinners do light up though.<br />
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Fidget Spinners also come in different shapes and sizes. Some are two-bladed but most are three-bladed. Some have pictures on them or are shaped like the Batman symbol.<br />
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I wonder if the fidget spinner will be around for a long time like the yo-yo or slinky? Manufactures of fidget spinners often claim that fidget spinners are must-have for those suffering from ADHD, autism, depression, just about any other ailments, although very little empirical proof exists to support these claims. Most teachers claim that if they see that thing again, it will be taken away and is going into their desk.<br />
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Funny how the claims can be so grand and proof so limited but I suppose that the rapid rise in popularity can surely be attributed to a genius marketing campaign.<br />
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Oddly enough, something very similar is the fidget cube. This little thing can be quietly played with and has actually been proven to help those specifically with autism. Sad though that one cannot perform "tricks" with it, so it will probably never gain the popularity of the fidget spinner.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I7VwQ4CcR6g/WSrHyZ1qA2I/AAAAAAAABUY/Wx8ozhoJuishBWB2G6RSxsOSfiUMFLcyACK4B/s1600/Fidget-Cube-Vinyl-Desk-Toy-Squeeze-Fun-Stress-Reliever-Anti-Irritability-Juguet-Dice-Cube-Box-for_7_530x.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I7VwQ4CcR6g/WSrHyZ1qA2I/AAAAAAAABUY/Wx8ozhoJuishBWB2G6RSxsOSfiUMFLcyACK4B/s320/Fidget-Cube-Vinyl-Desk-Toy-Squeeze-Fun-Stress-Reliever-Anti-Irritability-Juguet-Dice-Cube-Box-for_7_530x.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
I remember the dark days before the fidget spinner. desperate souls would suffer and nash their teeth in their attempt to replace something they didn't even know they needed.<br />
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I remember chewing on my pencil eraser during tests, and then realizing I needed my eraser. Remember pencil fights? It was like a right-of-passage for a junior high boy and I believe this act was the single reason one can now buy high-quality gourmet pencils-because they make stronger pencil-fighting apparatuses.<br />
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Remember this? (depicted in picture below) One of the original fidget spinners.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F2l3F1va6LE/WSrG_2BqRhI/AAAAAAAABUE/AkSxsdsXFs4xx9bbfSPOeM0VMdHQQkUXgCK4B/s1600/Bored-Britney-Spears-Class-Fidget-Fidgeting-Boring-Nothing-to-do-School-sucks-GIF.gif" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F2l3F1va6LE/WSrG_2BqRhI/AAAAAAAABUE/AkSxsdsXFs4xx9bbfSPOeM0VMdHQQkUXgCK4B/s640/Bored-Britney-Spears-Class-Fidget-Fidgeting-Boring-Nothing-to-do-School-sucks-GIF.gif" width="640" /></a><br />
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I recently read a story of a man who found his wife's fidget spinner in a drawer and immediately posted a picture of his find on social media only to find out that it was not a fidget spinner but something else entirely. <a href="https://www.thesun.co.uk/living/3705840/man-finds-his-wifes-fidget-spinner-tucked-in-a-drawer-but-its-not-what-it-seems/" target="_blank">Not a Fidget Spinner</a><br />
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I know what you're thinking. "Where can I get one of THOSE fidget spinners?"<br />
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Of course, there is a dark side to the fidget spinner. Apparently, there are parts on the fidget spinner that present a choking hazard. Okay, so maybe you're thinking one would certainly know that already but we are talking about people in the modern era where it's okay to be stupid or not watch your children because, no matter what happens, you'll get to sue someone for not warning you of dangers you should have had the foresight to be aware of. Yes, a number of these toys have been recalled because they did not have labeling to specify that it is a choking hazard for children under three. <a href="https://www.forbes.com/sites/dianahembree/2017/06/01/fidget-spinner-choking-hazard-alarms-parents-but-fire-and-shock-risks-top-this-months-recall-list/#7d2656c017c7" target="_blank">Recall</a><br />
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Will this toy survive the historical rise of fall in popularity suffered by so many other toys, or will it be just another passing fad, lost to obscurity like the pet rock. One thing is certain-somebody's making a lot of money off this fad, passing or not.<br />
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Now, sorry to cut this short but I have to get to the store. They open in ten minutes and rumor has it that they got a new shipment of fidget spinners in.<br />
<br />True Life and Fictionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10194767305292360214noreply@blogger.com0