Marian Allen's Blog, page 463

Sample Sunday – Dining Review

I can't remember if this began as a writing exercise or not. Anyway, here it is:

Dining Review

by Marian Allen

The dumpster behind the Bagel Bag used to be my favorite. They had these good doughnuts in their own separate sack. Then somebody started throwing other stuff in with them – coffee grounds, mainly. A man, I figured. A woman wouldn't be that mean, unless she knew you personally. Women are angels, unless you're married to them. But what did I care about coffee grounds? I like coffee grounds. Besides, I'm not a kid; I don't have a fit if my one food touches my other food.

But then one day I'm back there and I go between the dumpster and the wall so I can look in the kitchen window, make sure nobody's about to come out. There's this brown-headed guy with a beer gut in there, laughing and squirting liquid soap into a bag. The window's open a crack, so I can hear him when he says, "We'll see how he likes 'em with suds on top."

There's a woman with her hair all covered up in a white paper hair-net, leaning on a counter, watching him and shaking her head. "I swear to my cat, Mack, you are the coldest-hearted so-and-so on God's green Earth."

See what I mean about women?

Mack bumps the back door open and climbs onto a box to dump his sack.

I come around behind him. "Hi. You know what? Coffee grounds is one thing, but soap ain't nice."

Mack jerks like he's electroshocked. "JESUS!"

That makes me laugh. "The doctors didn't think so."

"Get away!" He's pale and trembly and his voice is hoarse. "You lunatics…. You lunatics oughta be locked up."

"They told me I could leave. I didn't like it there, anyway. They didn't put soap on my doughnuts."

Maybe he doesn't know sarcasm when he hears it. He stands there on his box and flaps his hands like I'm an alley cat. "Get away get aWAY!"

I grab him by the knees and heave. He goes over, screaming like a kid in a Haunted House.

The dumpster is half-full – or half-empty, if you want to see it that way – so he doesn't have far to fall.

I take off running. When I get to the street, I stop and look back. Mack stands up, covered with coffee grounds and soapy doughnuts. The woman is in the doorway, laughing till she's red in the face.

She has kind of a mean laugh.

So I don't go there any more. Eating out's no fun if you can't go someplace pleasant, right?

WRITING PROMPT: What does your main character demand in an eating establishment?

MA

Songs That Don't Mean What I Think They Mean

Contest continues. For details, read the August 12, 2011 post by clicking here.

This first song is by the Gorillaz, an animated band. By "animated", I do not mean they're lively. I mean they're, to quote Hee Haw, "jes' drawed on".

I maintain this song is about going to the movies. The name of it is Clint Eastwood and just about the only bit of the lyrics I understand is "I got sunshine in a bag." Now, what could that be but hot buttered movie popcorn? But Daughter #4 says, "Yeah, Mom. They're talking about popcorn. Uh-huh." But she says it like, you know, ironically.

The second song is about LOST. You know, the TV show that held me in thrall until it totally crapped out in the final episode. It's Comfort Eagle by Cake. #4 Daughter says, "Mom, the 60s really hit you hard, didn't they?" I'm not sure if she means the 1960s or my 60s. Go here and watch the video and YOU tell ME: Is this about LOST or isn't it?

Today is World on the Square. If you're in the Corydon area, come on over. It's 4-8pm. We're hoping it doesn't rain. If it does, it'll be World At The High School.

WRITING PROMPT: An adult misunderstands what a song is about. (My husband thought the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were the Teenage Mute and Injured Turtles, and was appalled.)

MA

Friday Recommends – Stuff For Writers and Readers, and More Shoes

Contest continues. For details, read the August 12, 2011 post by clicking here.

Even though he stopped following me on Twitter, thus breaking my sensitive artist's heart, Joseph Robert Lewis remains one of my mostest favoritest writers. He's also crazy-wise about making eBooks and generous with his wisdom about writing and publishing. I highly recommend bookmarking his Stuff For Writers page. I also highly recommend buying and reading everything he writes. You'll thank me later.

Whether you're a writer or a reader, you should be interested in these three sites: Simon Royle, another MOST excellent writer and generous soul, has put up a list of reviewers who focus on books by indie writers and publishers. A group of fine folks have collected and maintain The Book Blogger Directory, a listing of book bloggers. Whether you hope to have your book reviewed or want to see what's worth reading before you bother to download a sample, here is a good place to start. If, like me, you're cheap tight thrifty, Daily Cheap Reads is the site for you. All the books listed here are under $5.00, and some are free.

Steampunk Shoes! Click photo to enlarge.

One of my favorite sites is If Style Could Kill. And one of my favorite searches on that site is for crazy shoes. Look at these delicious Steampunk babies! Eye candy for the feet!

Okay, Angels, have a good weekend. I'll be back tomorrow with some kind of blather, then Sample Sunday, the ~drumroll~ Release day for FORCE OF HABIT! !! !

WRITING PROMPT: A character learns about a book that changes his or her life from an unexpected source.

MA

Let The Contest BEGIN! !! !

The release date for my sf/cop/farce novel FORCE OF HABIT approacheth, and I'm running a contest.

What are the prizes?

a copy of EEL'S REVERENCE (eBook)
a copy of FORCE OF HABIT (eBook)
a copy of LONNIE, ME AND THE HOUND OF HELL (eBook)
a copy of THE KING OF CHEROKEE CREEK (eBook)
a copy of MA'S MONTHLY HOT FLASHES: 2002-2007 (eBook)
a MomGoth's Sweet Little Baby Angels pin
the name of your choice in the story I write to promote my next eBook release, SIDESHOW IN THE CENTER RING. Holly Jahangiri, who won this in the last contest, called it, "Best. Prize. Ever."

How do you win?

leave a comment on this or any other blog on which I post, saying you're entering the contest . One entry for each post on which you comment.
If you've already bought and read one or more of my books, write a review (or reviews) and leave a comment on this blog linking to the review(s). One entry for each review.
Mention the contest on your blog and your social media networks (Twitter, Facebook, Google+, whatever) and leave a comment on this blog saying so. One entry for every place you spread the word.

Entries will be numbered and winners chosen by Random Number Selector. First entry drawn gets first choice of prizes and so on.

How long does it run?

From today until midnight EST October 31.

Ready. Set. GO!

WRITING PROMPT: A character wins a prize he or she really doesn't want but can't refuse.

MA

World A Little Way Off The Square

This weekend is World on the Square in Corydon, and we local natives are encouraged to bring international dishes to the free tasting buffet. The food used to be in the basement of the Methodist Church on the square, but this year it's moved to the basement of the Wright Interpretive Center in the old Presbyterian Church across from the Visitors' Center, catty-cornered from the courthouse, just down the street from the Star Cleaners and El Donohue's–I mean The Real Enchilada aka Olga's on the Square.

I wasn't sure what I was going to make but, since there are so many fresh vegetables around now, I decided to make antipasto.

Antipasto does not mean "the opposite of pasta", physics jokes aside (if you eat antipasto with pasta, does it destroy the universe?). Antipasto means "before the pasta". It's the original appetizer.

Usually served cold or at room temperature, it's a perfect dish for a picnic or a pitch-in, since it doesn't have to be kept warm. I have veg to chop up, and I'll get some prosciutto (like country ham, but sliced paper-thin and with an Italian accent) and mozzarella today. Maybe some olives and marinated mushrooms. Mmmmm!

See you on the Square!

WRITING PROMPT: What cuisine is different enough for your main character to consider it "exotic" but familiar enough for him or her to eat and/or prepare it?

MA

Time-Suck, Weight-Suck

Actually, my weight doesn't go down no matter what or how little I eat. What I need to do is exercise. Imma start doing that Real Soon Now, a term which, in sf/fantasy fandom, traditionally means "don't hold your breath".

Anyway, I can spend time better used exercising to browse the fantabulous SparkPeople site. SparkPeople is a place where you can plan lifestyle changes. Some people use it to lose weight, some use it to gain weight. If my mother and I could strike a cap-and-trade deal, we'd both be happy. Some people use it to quit smoking. You get the picture. They have all kinds of strategies and awesome recipes, although I'm usually, "I can make that recipe for 20 calories per serving less."

Posting today at Fatal Foodies on the subject of — of all things — caviar, which is kind of like Ab the Caveman posting about computer programming. As our #3 Daughter would say, "Whatever."

WRITING PROMPT: Does your main character get any exercise? Does he or she want to?

MA

Guest Post by Floyd Hyatt – Complexity in the Novel

This one was so long and so … well … complex, I've split it into two. A week from today is launch day for FORCE OF HABIT, so I prolly won't post part 2 for a couple of weeks. It'll be worth waiting for.

Complexity:

Considerations in the Novel

Nothing I like more than reading a good story with a cunning, interwoven plot (or Plots).

Also, though, there is nothing more tedious to read than an over complex story that spends half its word count just to describe the set of complex rules it uses to tell it. There is a difference between the two.

World-building vs Rube-Goldberg

For Fantasy and Science Fiction, we deal not only with events that play out on the stage of our imagination, but, often enough, play out on an imaginary stage, as well. Before we can write about our characters and situations, we must become set builders and scrim artists. We need to define the imaginary or envisioned world in which the events take place.

How important is this?

It can be anything from just a good idea to seminal in terms of the story itself.  Setting a stage that can underpin, enhance, or even support the intrigue, drama and expectation of the plot can be crucial to a story.  At the least, it shows the reader the backdrop of the play.  The more consistently thought through that stage is, the more it aids the suspension of disbelief and the sense of reality the reader (not to mention the author) can hang on to.  It lays forth the rules which the story overlays and plays out within. It is structure.

To make a board game, a board is needed.  It provides the boundaries and allowed moves that can be made, and must be adhered to and understood by all players.  Chess without a chess board is just a bunch of little statues, not a game.  Likewise, complete fictions, such as Fantasy and Sci Fi often are, need to define the rules under which they play out, the stage upon which the actors strut.

It is in the rules part of this process where our friend (or foe) Rubin Goldberg raises his head.  The more rules your build has, the more tedious the story can become.  For most, having to spend half their reading time pouring over a rule book, is not fun, but work.  One of the most successful games in the world, Chess, (to keep to our original example,) only has maybe six basic moves, three special rules, and one mandated set up.  Yet it can support endless reams of complex and varied game play, strategies, and possibilities, to the extent that almost no two games need ever be identical.  Yet it is fair, allowing either player an equal chance at victory, depending on their skill, foresight, and, perhaps, a little luck.

Writers can use this fact to good advantage when considering the rules they put into place during their world build.  It is tempting to set your stage with as many complex physical laws, social customs and odd waterfalls of circumstance as can be dreamed up.  Remember that each complexity adds amounts to steepening the learning curve of the reader, and perhaps diluting the focus of your writing.  Ask yourself just how much back-story your work really requires to play out, and trust in yourself that, like the chess player, you can build a complete and nuanced tale within it.

F. A. Hyatt

WRITING PROMPT: Write down the rules of your world, whether an other-world or a family dynamic. The ones from the real one are probably more complex, but the reader is unconsciously familiar with most of them. (Women bear children, men grow thick hair on their faces. Shut up–I just plucked my chin the other day.)

MA

Sample Sunday – A Mermaid In The Desert

Here is another sample from my novel EEL'S REVERENCE. That's EEL'S REVERENCE, as in Reverence belonging to The Eel. I thought it was a nifty title, but people seem to have trouble with it. Too late, now.

Here's what the book, a fantasy, is about: In the coastal area known as The Eel, a Coalition of "reaver" priests coerce and oppress humans and mermayds alike. When an elderly "true" priest known as Aunt Libby happens into The Eel, she's forcibly set up in her own temple by a merchant set on using her presence to negotiate better terms from the Coalition. With the common folk ready to rally for revolution with the pacifist Aunt Libby as their figurehead, she needs every scrap of cleverness, will-power, guile and bad temper she has to out-maneuver both her enemies and her friends.

At one point, the young mermayd, Loach, finds himself stranded in an oasis town.

Loach, saturated with sensations, fell without warning into lassitude. His high spirits turned sulky, grainy, raw-nerved. He had a cramp all down his tail. His fluke felt cold, as if its circulation were being interfered with. He craved water, preferably temperate and salt but, ultimately, water of any sort. His instinct urged him to head for the lake at the base of the city. He turned his horse toward the cliffs and left the bazaar behind.

The people of Batumi gave the scowling mermayd a wide berth. Some had seen mermayds before, but none traveling alone, and none who looked so ripe for trouble.

Loach stopped. His head went up, his back straightened. He had heard, he had smelled—living water.

He looked around. The bustle of the bazaar lay five arcs back. The waterfall still lay far ahead. To either side rose walls, blank and solid.

The crescent where the walls ended was one of shops catering to the local populace. Some were imposing and carried goods marked up from the bazaar, some were modest and dealt in the higher classes' castoffs.

And there were temples. Few and far between, Loach could see the flash of a reaver temple. More often, he saw temples adorned by nothing richer than a carving of an oasis, a painting of waves with a man rising out of them, or a statue of a wolf fashioned out of local materials.

True priests! thought Loach. If true priests have water, they'll share it. Thanks be to Micah for this blessing given a foolish old woman: Because he had met me, Loach recognized the real thing when he saw it, and knew what it meant.

The splashing had come from his left and sounded louder now. To his left stretched a colonnade, open on three sides. Under the sweet shade of the colonnade's roof, rising from the packed red sand, a fountain played. Over the basin curved a figure that might have been a man or a mermayd, and from it poured and plashed water—free, for the poor.

Loach slid from his horse and undulated toward the fountain. His horse came with him, drawn by its own thirst. Loach plunged his hands and arms up to his shoulders into the basin.

Nothing had ever felt so good. Loach, foolhardy and inexperienced, hadn't realized how quickly his cheap gillband had been desiccating. He knew, now, how much of his debility had been conservation of energy; his waterlust, a final push for survival.

A priest came out of the temple. He looked only fourteen, just out of the seminary. Slight but muscular, he had the markings of a worker: oversized hands thickened with callouses and skin sun-darkened to the color of mahogany.

He had apparently never seen a mermayd before. His astonishment and delight carried him closer to Loach than his courtesy would have permitted.

Loach drew back and put his hands on his knives. He opened his inner lids. The priest's dusty green cassock reassured him, and he relaxed.

"Welcome," said the priest. He hesitated, trying to think of something else to say. "I'm Uncle Endo. Welcome."

Loach was touched and amused.

"You're from the coast. Well, of course you're from the coast." Uncle Endo bit his lower lip and stood silent and staring, with a smile of such hopeless friendliness, Loach couldn't resist it.

"Thanks for the water," he said. "It saved my life."

"That's what it's for. I'm glad. Come in."

"No, thanks." Loach coiled into a sitting position. "The last temple I went into, I had to be dragged. That's where they did this to me."

"Priests did that to you?"

"Churchwardens, but a priest gave the order. Not a true priest; the kind we have in the Eel."

"I don't understand. Even a reaver wouldn't—"

"That's it! That's what she called them."

"But that isn't…reavers don't…"

"She didn't believe me, either."

"Who didn't?"

"Aunt Libby… This real old…" Loach's voice faded into a gasp. The dousing with fresh water had given Loach's gillband only a temporary reprieve. Now he clutched at it, blank-eyed, and flopped sideways, toward the fountain.

EEL'S REVERENCE is available for $2.99 for Kindle, Nook and at OminiLit in many electronic formats.

WRITING PROMPT: What is the worst environment in which you could strand your main character? In space? At a flower show?

MA

Weird Plants At My House

As a wise woman once said, "Oh! What a world! What a world!" (Points for naming the source of the quote and the speaker.) If I'd known the country was such a great resource for sf/fantasy writers, I would have paid more attention when I had — I mean when I was privileged to — spend time there as a child.

In the back, Charlie planted castor beans around the perimeter of the garden because a friend said it would discourage moles. It doesn't seem to have discouraged the mice who have taken over the now-disused mole tunnels in order to nom our potatoes. I can hear them giggling all the way up here.

In the front, this massive fungal growth has staked a claim at the foot of a tree. It's the size of a dinner plate! (The fungus, not the tree.) The black specks are not pepper, they're insects.

WRITING PROMPT: Go outside and take pictures of weird things in nature. If you take pictures of people, don't tell them that. Word to the wise.

MA

Friday Recommends – How Beautiful Thy Sites With Shoes

This week, I've been doing major pre-submission edits of SAGE, my Big Fat Fantasy, and sending my more manageable and already-published spec fic novel EEL'S REVERENCE out to book reviewers and eagerly awaiting the release of my sf/farce/cop novel FORCE OF HABIT. But I've still had time to collect a few recommendations from my cybertravels.

One of the book review sites, which I may have recommended before, is Fantasy Cookie. This site is gorgeous, and reviews science fiction and fantasy. It's a great place to get recommendations, in these days when we can't afford to play reading roulette with our hard-earned mazoola.

For my fellow writers, you can't go wrong following Wicked and Tricksy, a group blog of writing advice and resources that rocks the house. I can't tell you how totally full of win and made of awesome this blog is–you have to go see it for yourself.

Photo from ModCloth.com

"But what about the Shoes? You promised me shoes!"

Stop whining. I got shoes here for you. Understand, I am so completely NOT into shoes. As long as they don't break my feet, I don't care. As fat as I am, I can't see them once I stand up anyway, so why should I care? But these shoes, while I doubt I would ever wear some of them, are eye candy of the finest kind. These are from ModCloth, which also has weirdly wonderful clothing. I love to look at these and imagine the people who would wear them in public and what society they move in and what reaction they get and how they handle the reaction they get in a different society with a different attitude. But I would hesitate to actually dress a character in these shoes or this clothing unless I had a long time to work on the piece, because I would have to describe the shoes or clothing in such detail I'd then have to cut it all out.

Finally, I'm pretty sure I recommended this site before, but it bears repeating. Zamzar is an online conversion site. Upload a document, music file, eBook file, video file, image file or "other" and convert it into any other compatible file. I mean, you can't convert a music file into a document, for instance, but you can convert a docx into a doc or a doc into a pdf. It isn't instantaneous: You upload the file, enter which format you want, enter your email, and they notify you when to come download the converted file. I find it most convenient. Besides, they have chameleons on their banner.

Happy weekend! Don't forget Sample Sunday, when I post an excerpt or some original writing. And be sure to check out my Free Reads page.

Oh! And while I'm thinking of it, EEL'S REVERENCE is still a low low $2.99 for Kindle, Nook and in all e-formats at Omnilit. Just sayin'.

WRITING PROMPT: What kinds of shoes do your characters wear?

MA