Anny Cook's Blog, page 58

On the Boat

  For the last week, in between dental appointments, shopping, finalized edits and other chores, I've been researching "stuff" for my next book. Some of the topics were Hy-Brasil, Japanese yari, Apache wickiups, and pre-historic boats. My usual mode is to narrow down the possibilities via the Internet, then track down more extensive reading materials via libraries and bookstores.

Now about the boats. When you read--or hear--the word canoe, what do you visualize? I bet it's one of those boats you can rent at the lake on summer vacation.
Prior to my initial research, that’s what I thought, too. Specifically, I was considering the use of a dugout canoe for my story. Maybe eight to ten feet long…capable of carrying three or four people. Then I spent some time looking at prehistoric boats and discovered I vastly underestimated our ancestors’ boat building capabilities.
A dugout boat depends on the size of the tree used. Some boats fashioned from ONE tree are capable of carrying sixty people. Whoa! That’s a big boat.
Back to the planning board, right? Since my fantasy world has giant Sequoia type trees, if appears my characters (at least the boat builders) could build any size boat I could possibly dream up, complete with sails, oars, or other necessities.
Which just shows that even minimal research can change and rearrange the wonderful possibilities in storytelling. Now…I’m off to board the boat!
anny

Monday When It Isn't

Today is probably one of the most disputed holidays we have in the USA. Columbus Day. Revisionist history now declares Columbus anathema blaming him for all sorts of crimes against the native population of the Americas. I think it's all bologna sausage.

He was one--ONE--of many explorers that came to the Americas. ONE. Not the first. Not the last. Nor even the most important. What he did have going for him was a fantastic public relations campaign.

Others arrived in the Americas with little fanfare. As a matter of fact, North and South America have been populated by succeeding waves of settlers for thousands of years and our shores have been visited by folks from both the east and the west.

Some left evidence of their visits in the form of ceramics, art, the exchange of plants and even animals. Indisputable evidence of their visits--DNA--proves they had SOME interaction with the populations that dotted the coasts.

This pattern has been repeated world wide for centuries stretching back before history. To single out one explorer for vilification at this point is unjust. Hindsight is a fine thing, but we cannot go back to change history, nor can we change the results.

Exploration is often based on greed, regardless of the ethnicity of the explorer. Migration follows exploration. And that is based on the basic desires for food, shelter, water, and homes. Neither are peaceful. When you look back through history, you find waves of warfare followed by new settlement. And regardless of the location, the individuals with the more advanced technology usually win.

To impose our twenty-first century values on the past is a mistake. We cannot go back. That way is to direct our energies to an impossible goal.

What we CAN do is go forward. We can work to eliminate hunger, thirst, homelessness, poverty, illness, and pain.

Do we need Columbus Day? Nah. We could call it Explorer's Day. Or maybe we could call it Reparation Day. Both of those choices look back, though. Maybe we should call it National Sales Day. That would be more honest.

anny

Buy! Buy! Buy!

There is a disturbing trend in the social media world, a trend that may accomplish what other trends failed to do. I may fold my tent and sink back into my dark cave.

What is this I terror?

It's the despicable practice of the hard sale by drive-by authors, Tupperware and Pampered Chef ladies, health food practitioners, artists, and other assorted desperate salespersons.

Understand me. I'm not talking about the folks that post on their own "walls" or whatever that particular network calls it. I'm talking about the ones who post on MY wall. You know who I'm talking about. They're the ones who FRIEND you or ADD you to their group without your permission.

No by-your-leave. Just BAMM! And then they pepper you with stuff you don't want, care about, or need to know.

Now, personally, I think the constant posting of materials you're trying to sell on your own wall is counter-productive. I know your shtick. If I want to buy your books, beads, shoes, records, I'll find them. A post when your book is released or when you have a new cover is fine. After that? I'm not paying much attention.

There are a couple circumstances that will absolutely guarantee I will unsubscribe from your posts. And possibly even unfriend you.

Let's see...

#5) Posting offensive posts making fun of religion. Any religion. You don't believe? Fine. Find a little group of like-minded people and discuss it on your page. Otherwise, you're gone.

#4) Offensive political posts. Again. Everyone is allowed an opinion. But my page is open to my grandchildren and family. Whatever is posted there will reflect that reality.

#3) Offensive language. See #4. I write erotic romance. That doesn't mean I have to use filthy language to get my point across. My page is not a porn site.

#2) Bullying in any form. My grandmother was a lady. One of her favorite sayings was, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all." No individual out there has the right to arbitrarily decide how another should behave, look, talk, write. Certainly not on my wall.

#1) Badgering me to buy something. It's telemarketing on the Internet. You know...those folks who ambush you over the phone just when you're sitting down to dinner? Yep. That's what it is. Telemarketing via Facebook, Twitter, or a host of other sites. Set up a webpage and quit posting your crap on my page, blog, wall, etc.

Rant over.

anny

Unidentified Flying Objects

On Facebook a fellow author posted a question, asking if anyone had witnessed a UFO. It reminded me of my two encounters--separated over a fifteen year period. Now before we get started, I just want to clarify something. I am NOT saying I saw a space ship. Or a flying saucer. Or aliens.

What did I see? I don't know.

My first encounter was at three o'clock in the morning in the late 1970s. I worked at McDonald's at the time and I was driving home from work on a very lonely, very dark country road north of Houston, Texas. Out yonder in the sky in front of me I noticed something, lit up like a convention of cop cars. I slowed down as I tried to figure out what it was. Very abruptly, it started spinning, then whizzed toward me. I slowed down even more, absolutely positive it was a bunch of emergency vehicles racing toward me and in some weird optical illusion, they just appeared to be in the sky.

But no...whatever it was zipped past me overhead, silently, but still spinning. Well, I stomped on the gas pedal, rolling down that dark road like a host of demons were on my tail. In the mirrors, I could see it pacing me and had the nasty thought it was herding me toward some specific destination. I sped along in the dark, right on the edge of danger as I reached my subdivision. When I pulled in my driveway and rushed into the shelter of my front porch, whatever it was shot straight up, moved over the roof and disappeared. Poof! Vanished.

Nearly fifteen years later, I lived in New York. I worked the evening shift at a warehouse--as did my friend and two sons. One night they sent us all home early. I parked in my driveway around nine-thirty and everyone bailed out of the car, pleased we had an unexpected free night. I was going to walk partway down the street with my friend.

Suddenly, my son exclaimed, "What's that?"

We lived in a small village. It was early enough that there were quite a few people still out and about. In the sky above us was an enormous SOMETHING with a row of flashing lights and it was slowly spinning in place. Many people saw it. It stayed in place for at least fifteen minutes. Then, it suddenly zipped away. What was it? I don't know.

Two days later the "authorities" reported it was a group of ultralight flyers pulling a prank. Uh, no. I've flown in an ultralight. One thing they do not do is hover.

So, they were both unidentified flying objects, but that's about all I can say with certainty. And both experiences were definitely strange.

What about you? Have you ever seen strange things in the sky?

anny 

Let the Ear Hear

Most folks in the U.S. are aware there was a televised political debate last night between the two "main" candidates. The house hunk watched it while I worked in my office, perforce listening to the give and take. Afterwards, I scanned the various commentary on Facebook and Twitter and read some of the blogs posted by the political journalists.

I learned something interesting. Most of the comments were visually based--what the candidates were wearing, their facial expressions, whether or not the commenter liked their smile, which was was obviously bored or excited.

I didn't get any of that. Sitting in the other room as I was, my experience was completely different. There were no extraneous distractions so I listened.

Listening is rapidly fading into a dying art. Our brains are so cluttered with the visual of TV, movies, even phone text, that we fail to use our ears anymore. Speech (and dialogue) is what makes or breaks our stories. Some authors had a terrible time writing dialogue. I wonder if that's because the art of listening has moved to the art of watching?

Do we hear the different cadences in speech? Can we tell anger from excitement, conviction from rage? If we listen to a speech can we discern humor from disgust without the visual cues?

I wonder how different the reactions would be this morning if the debates were broadcast over radio, rather than televised. Would anybody listen? And what would they hear?

anny

Plot, plot, plot

Usually, when I begin a new book I have a vague idea about the overall plot. Usually. Currently, I'm suffering from a case of brain freeze. Every time I open any of the FOUR wips I'm working on, my brain freezes.

Since my normal mode of working is kaput, I'm trying different ideas. First I'm writing down a list of actions, sort of like one of those charts with all the little arrows. You know--if the hero does "a", then "this" happens; if he does "b", then "that" happens.

Another thing I'm trying it to set the story up similar to a game. I've played a lot of games lately. So the hero sets out on a quest. The quest doesn't have to be a fantasy. Maybe he's trying to find a killer. Anyway, he sets out. He has to go to place "a" to discover a clue...which leads him to place "b" where he'll talk to the old lady who is always looking out her window. She'll tell him something important that will lead him back to the scene of the crime where he'll discover another clue. Yeah, you see my problem.

Then there's the "sticky note" approach. Write one fact on each sticky note and arrange them until you have a story. I don't do well with that. I lose half the notes, knock over the board, get frustrated with the aggravation of it all and stomp off to do the dishes.

Perhaps I should go on a vacation to Peru. Or go visit my friend in Alaska.

Maybe I'll just sit here, hands on keyboard and type. After all that usually works eventually.

How about you? Do you plot?

anny

Cover Story

Did you ever wonder how a cover is done? How does that particular guy or gal end up on your cover? I learned a lot about the time the cover artist spends looking for the perfect people when I objected to the initial cover for Spear of Retribution. The publisher allowed me to look through the pictures on their photo site and choose something that I believed would reflect my characters.

Well, let me tell you...four hours later, I found the couple on the cover. I now have a better appreciation for cover artists. And I'll never whine again that the people don't look like my characters!

I love this cover for Spear of Retribution, Tuatha Treasures 2.

What's your cover story?

anny

PS: Don't forget my chat tonight at Love Romances Cafe! See the upper right corner of the blog for details!

Cooking Directions

It's pumpkin and squash season in the US. I've been searching for different ways to use the pumpkin I picked up at the store. Last week I cooked my spaghetti squash and froze most of it for future use. This week I've checked out numerous recipes for pumpkin.

I was searching for something that didn't require a ton of sugar or flour...and wasn't pie. Am I the only one who really doesn't care for pie? There's pumpkin bread, pumpkin cookies, pumpkin latte, pumpkin butter, pumpkin...

Anyway, the interesting part of recipes picked up on the Internet is the directions. Some leave out temperatures or cooking times like you're just supposed to know. Some list calories per serving--but not what a serving consists of. Some (especially the ones for HUGE quantities) have no suggestions for storing the leftovers. Freeze? Refrigerate? Can?

I suppose that's because no one plans for leftovers anymore. That's the problem when the hunk and I cook...leftovers. Anyone out there have a great pumpkin recipe? I received a wonderful paleo-bread recipe from my friend, Amarinda Jones that I plan to make, but the pumpkin is fairly big so I need two or three recipes before I start cutting it up.

How do you deal with leftovers? Or do you ever have any?

anny

Turquoise Paint

When I was eight, we lived in a tiny "shotgun house" with an extra room bumped out on the side. My younger brothers and I shared that room and my parents slept in the "dining" room. The entire house was four rooms plus a bathroom. As compensation for having to share with my brothers, I was permitted to pick out the paint color for the room.

Perhaps it was because we lived in the deserts of Arizona, but I chose turquoise as the color. It wasn't a soft, gauzy color, nor was it the pretty bluey-green color in the photograph. No, it was the harsh green-blue of the turquoise stone fresh out of the depths of a copper mine.

Gamely, my parents painted the room and I reveled in the bright color until we moved to a different tiny house the next year. There I had the sun porch for my very own while my brothers slept on the enclosed front porch.

Several years later, when I was in my teens and we lived in Indiana, our family made a pilgrimage to the various places we'd lived in Arizona. The woman who lived in that house with the turquoise paint graciously invited us inside.

And that room still had the turquoise paint on the walls.

Dad asked her about it. She said they couldn't find anything except black that would cover the paint so they left it as is. That was many years ago and no doubt--if the house is still standing--someone has used the modern paint technology to cover that turquoise paint.

Looking back from my adult viewpoint it occurs to me we often make choices we might later wish we hadn't. Sometimes, the choices we blithely make in a moment of pique or fit of triumph have consequences we are not constrained to live with. Instead, an innocent bystander might have to deal with our choice.

Sometimes...a total stranger is stuck with the turquoise paint.

anny

Change, Change, Change

Edit~~Prepare (written material) for publication by correcting, condensing, or otherwise modifying it.

Revise~~ To prepare a newly edited version of (a text)

I'm in the midst of edits for Spear of Retribution. I've noticed when other authors refer to edits, they're discussing something entirely different. So...Anny's definitions:

Revising~~What I do to my manuscript BEFORE I submit it to a publisher. That includes all the nitty-gritty of corrections, changes in plot, additions of scenes. All that stuff.

Edits~~What I do to my manuscript after the editor sends it back to me. If I did my job before submission, then this will primarily consist of READING MY MANUSCRIPT WORD FOR WORD, signing off on the corrections the editor noted, and also making any corrections needed as I read through it. It might ALSO include any revisions necessary based on the editor's recommendations. 

When I do EDITS, the process takes about a week. I spend a lot of time fine-combing through the manuscript, hoping to catch any bits that weren't caught previously--or picked up by my editor. Sometimes, this is the change in a verb or rewording a sentence for clarity. 

In this particular set of edits, I have two lengthy revisions to deal with, thanks to the excellent suggestions from my editor. Those will likely take a day or two to write and seamlessly fit in my current manuscript.

That's how I define what stage I'm in. How do you define your process?

anny