Marian Allen's Blog, page 471

Free Samples – A Lesson in Editing, Writing and Marketing

I have a very, very, very special guest today. Jane. Yes, the Jane! The very one! Claudia Jane Peyton and I have been friends since the summer between junior high and high

CJP's self-portrait as Tetra Petrie in Regency disguise

schools. Jane is a writer, an artist, a musician (violin), an actress, a brilliant thinker, a creative cook — the list goes on and on. She's also a full-time caregiver for her mother and a gold-medal friend. Plus, she shares my mother's insistence on the importance of using the possessive with a gerund.

The last time we had lunch together, she told me about what sorting through free reads had taught her about the writing process, and I asked her to write it up and send it to me to post. She did, and here it is. Read and learn, children; read   and   learn.

As soon as I acquired an e-reader, I began searching for cheap reads.  Naturally.  Using Amazon.com as a source, I began downloading samples from a number of books, figuring this to be a reasonable start.  After a bit, just reading the summary and comments would lead to my  turning down the sample opportunity.  Something was happening, but I still didn't know what.

I downloaded a whole book (free) by an author I knew a little.  The premise sounded good, and the sample convinced me.  I read the book and bought the three successive books in the series.  (Kay Kenyan, The Entire and the Rose)  Now, to shorten up the tale, after a good deal of sorting through this stuff on my e-reader, I had a significant thought,  "This must be how editors feel, reading through the slushpile!"

And so the lesson begins.  Really, guys, if your first three chapters (or MAYBE four) don't get your book going in the I've-got-to-read-more fashion, your baby is NOT going to sell.  Really.  Honestly.  The editor (or agent) WON'T keep going until the good part. I wouldn't, and neither would you.  If you want to really develop a citical eye, try my experiment.  Read through the slushpile of the internet.  Be sad if your book reminds you of the ones you don't want to buy.  Then get working and fix it.  Dialogue circular, not getting anywhere fast?  Cut it.  Too much world-building getting in your way?  Work it into the story instead.  Don't take to a character fast enough?  It won't get better later; no one will read that far.  You only get 3 chapters.  Three.  Maybe four.

I had to keep notes on my sample reads in order to tell them apart.  Do that.  Very short comments.  Thus you begin the work.  Examine the authority of the author's voice.  Amateur?  Or real writer?  You don't really believe what they're saying?  Don't care where they're going with it?  You know what I'm going to say next, right?

Observations on bad writing:  Get a good grammar and figure out how to use the possessive pronoun with a gerund.  PLEASE.  Think hard about how you name your characters.  I beseech you.  Don't name your heroine "Star" just because they did it in the "LOST BOYS."  It didn't work there, either.  If you're using an ethnic name, and you don't know squat about the correct rules of that language, DON'T do it.  I'm talking to all you vampire lovers out there.  If you don't know about Russian patronymics, don't think you can make it up.  I'll delete your sample so fast it'll make your aluminum hat liner melt.  Waiting to reveal that tasty little secret, that your character is really a vampire/werewolf/goblin/zombie/married?  Waiting to indicate exactly what genre you're writing in?  Please don't.  I won't be there for it.

Now for titles:  Do the same exercise.  You're already scrolling through dozens of cheap reads already sorted by your genre.  Now observe which titles catch your eye, and which ones are so repetitious or generic that you can only summon a yawn and not a sample download.  I'm thinking of writing a vampire novel called "Dirty Rotten Bloodsuckers."  Might get a second glance.  Yes?

I think you can see how much fun this is.  Try it.  You'll like it.  Really.

So there you have it. Thanks, Jane, for your insights and advice. My mother thanks you, too.

And I would TOTALLY read a vampire novel called "Dirty Rotten Bloodsuckers"!

WRITING EXERCISE: What she said.

MA

p.s. A gerund is an -ing verb or verb phrase. We talked about my using her insights on my blog not We talked about me using her insights on my blog.

Food Of The Gods

It's recipe day here at the blog, and I've got a pipperino for you today. I made this for weekend guests and they loved it. They left some for me and I added a bit (added bit appended to the recipe) and I loved it, too.

PEACH AMBROSIA

Canned peaches in raspberry syrup, drained
Canned pineapple chunks or tidbits, drained
Dried shredded coconut (or shredded fresh, if you have it)
Powdered sugar

Combine and nom.

Addendum: Bonnie Abraham put a recipe in the Southern Indiana Writers' story/recipe anthology, Novel Ingredients, called "The Quest for the Elusive Pineapple Salad Recipe" in which one of the ingredients is chunks of American cheese. I had some chunks of mild cheddar, so I used that in my leftover salad. It was most tasty and nutritious, no matter how what? ugh! it sounds.

By the way, in case you don't know, I'm not calling this the food of the gods because I have an inflated ego, but because, in Greek mythology, ambrosia is the name of the indescribable food that the gods ate. They drank nectar, to save your asking.

WRITING PROMPT: What food does your main character believe his or her god eats, or would eat, if your character were to believe in a god (or goddess, of course)?

MA

Local Sightings

First, because my mother isn't on the facebook, here is a picture of the Theodore Roosevelt reenactor from A Victorian Chautauqua this past weekend. Mom has always been a TR fan, and taught me to be so and we taught daughter #4 to be so. Not a perfect man, by any means, but splendid nonetheless. Naturally, I had to get my picture taken with him.

Now for the sightings.

Possum — no picsh — too busy making sure he didn't jump back into the road and bite my tires, stranding me within reach of his savage teeth.

I had to drive all around Robin Hood's barn to the back of beyond (that means a long and winding way) to get a family farmed ham for the Memorial Day picnic. On the way, I passed long-horned cattle (which I did not, alas, get a snappie of) and this bird, which was wandering around in somebody's yard like a chicken. (The bird was wandering like a chicken, I mean).

This guy moseying across the back yard. He was probably scouting the garden preparatory to raiding it for tomatoes and cucumbers. These little hard-shell pirates will sniggle into your garden and take a few bites out of whatever is within reach, then move on to another piece and take a few bites out of it. Ticks me off to have to eat a turtle's leavings. Still, he was doing no harm this day, so I just took his picture.

Best sightings of all: blue-tailed lizards on the playhouse roof and on the back porch. They're too speedy for me to catch on film, but every one is etched in color on my heart. I love blue-tailed lizards. Long-time readers (Hi, Mom!) know that blue-tailed lizards are #1 on MomGoth's list of Sparks o' Joy.

WRITING PROMPT: Have a character notice five things in his/her environment or on the way somewhere. Why does he/she notice those things?

MA

p.s. It's Tuesday, so I'm at Fatal Foodies, posting today about a cookbook featuring edible flowers.

Today, I #AMWRITING Unity

I'm very pleased to be part of the Twitter-based #amwriting community, writers who use the Twitter hashtag #amwriting to organize conversations on current projects, the writing life and the writing process. If you aren't on Twitter, you can join the fun at the #amwriting blog/website, http://amwriting.org.

The post there for today is on Unity–pulling all your elements together so the story or book or article feels like a seamless piece, not like lumps of things tossed together. Here is part of the post, with a link to the rest:

Writer R. V. Cassill, in his wonderful book WRITING FICTION, says that Unity "…is the conception that tells the writer

*  What to include

*  What to leave out

*  Where to start

*  When to round out his conclusion.

It must guide him in the selection and manipulation of all the elements of fiction from which he hopes to fashion a story."

Unity is the shape the writer imposes on raw material, in order to produce the impression of a satisfying whole. Dialogue and character and tone and plot must all work together – that's unity. In Real Life, all your stories are mixed up with each other: the story of what you cooked for your family's meals, the story of all the jobs you've had, the story of your relationship with your mother, the story of a car wreck you had and your recovery…. Writing an article or a piece of fiction or a poem imposes some kind of focus or order on all your experience or all your possible imagined experiences.

Like a spoked wheel, all the elements in your piece will be centered around a unifying core; what that core is, will guide your all your other choices, and the end result will be a smooth and convincing piece of work.

Click here to read the rest of the article at #amwriting dot org.

WRITING PROMPT: Think of a story you tell about something that happened to you. How do you isolate that as "a story about" this or that and not as just a part of the endless (so far) narrative of your life? What organizes what you tell into "a story", with a beginning, a middle, a climax and an end?

MA

Sample Sunday – Loach and Muriel's Plot

I began EEL'S REVERENCE with the vision of a scene between a mermayd in a desert city and his human friend. This is not that scene. That scene is long gone. This is part of the scene now.

There was no mistaking a churchwarden from the Eel. Nowhere else did churchwardens wear armor, or carry truncheons, or daggers. Nowhere else did they wear veils to hide their faces. Nowhere else did they need to.

"Go get her," said Loach. "Tell her we'll meet her back here in two hours."

"What if she won't wait? What if she's got another caravan already?"

"Tell her we're rich and thinking of moving to Port Novo and ask her if she can recommend a good priest. Bribe her if you have to. We can always get the money back when we Do her."

Guerrero nodded.

"Keep her busy in the south end of the crescent," Loach continued. "Buy her a drink, or offer to let her punch you in the nose or something. Muriel and I have to buy our cloaks."

Loach and Muriel watched Guerrero catch up to the churchwarden and all but kiss her boots. They saw the warden shake her head once, nod, shrug, and follow Guerrero out of sight around the crescent curve to the south.

"I don't like it," Muriel said.

"Don't like my plan? It's a sweet little plan."

"It's a nasty little plan."

"Guerrero likes it."

"Guerrero should be a Coalition reaver, he has the instincts for it."

"He's your friend."

"My friend? I thought he was your—"

Loach joggled Muriel's chair with his flukes before she could finish. "Don't say it. You don't have to go through with it, you know. I'm not going to."

"But Guerrero thinks—"

"What he had to think, before he'd help us. Now, we'll get our chance at that warden. Or maybe we won't. Maybe we'll side with her against him and get in good with the Coalition."

"You would, you villain."

"I can't be a villain, Muriel. Villains are evil, and you can't be evil if you don't have a soul, because you don't have anything to be evil with."

"If you're not a villain, you'll do till one comes along."

"There'll be two along before we know it. If you're going into business with one of 'em, you'd better be ready."

"I don't want to go into business with either of them."

"I'm telling you, you don't have to if you don't want to. We'll tell Guerrero we want her to ourselves and send him on ahead. Then we'll just knock the stuffing out of her and leave her in the desert, come back here and pick up a caravan to another coast. We could even leave her a little food and water and a thermacloth. She wouldn't be any worse off than we were, would she?"

"No."

"Let's do that, then. If she makes it back to Port Novo, and if she has the nerve to tell her priest she let two exiles and a derelict trick her and rob her, we'll all be long gone, anyway."

"That's it, then. We'll do it that way. I'll get my horse and meet you back here, then we'll go buy what we need."

Muriel left smiling.

Loach smiled, too, thinking of the look on Guerrero's face when he called for murder and found he'd bitten off less than he could chew.

EEL'S REVERENCE is available as an eBook in multiple formats and in multiple countries:

http:/tinyurl.com/ma-er-omni

http://tinyurl.com/ma-er-Kindle

http://tinyurl.com/ma-er-KindleUK

http://tinyurl.com/ma-er-KindleGE

http://tinyurl.com/ma-er-Nook

WRITING PROMPT: Have a character plan to undermine an arrangement he or she has with somebody.

MA

Song for the Rapture

They tell me today is the rapture

And animals don't get to go.

If dogs aren't going to heaven,

I'm staying with Joe.

They tell me that cats don't get taken–

No, nothing with meow or with purr.

If Katya-cat will not be going,

I'm staying with her.

And fish–I guess fish don't go either.

No matter how fervent my wish.

If Lalwant Singh won't be there with me,

I'll stay with the fish.

Praying for joy and eternal happiness to everyone who goes in the rapture tomorrow–if it happens. Me, it isn't heaven if everybody doesn't get to go.

WRITING PROMPT: Your character thinks he/she will go in the rapture but doesn't, or thinks he/she won't go but does. OR your character is shocked at who goes and who is left behind.

MA

Friday Recommends 5-20-2011

Happy Friday! I'm getting ready for the Victorian Chautauqua at the Howard Steamboat Museum in Jeffersonville, Indiana this weekend. I'll be in the Authors section with the Southern Indiana Writers. If you're in the area, come on by–it's a blast, with arts and crafts, games for kids, food, music and information about the area's past.

I got a notice of an article from the wonderful Brenda S. Peterson: "Why I Still Want to be Left Behind". She explains, better than I could, why I'm sanguine about tomorrow. If the Rapture is real, and it does come within my lifetime, and I'm left behind (which is what I would expect under those circumstances), the trees and the animals and I will be fine with that.

"It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter Heaven." — J. of Nazareth

So why are so many rich folks convinced they're going to leave anybody behind? Just sayin'.

Anyway, I recommend Brenda Peterson's wonderful blog and her Huffington Post articles on religion and nature.

Go to Anthony Stemke's Grits and Groceries if you want some wonderful food blogging, recipes and information. Makes me so hungry, I could eat my keyboard.

I've probably recommended her before, but please drop in on Damyanti at Daily (w)rite. She's a wonderful writer. Her site contains some of the best flash fiction I've ever read.

The fabulous Mindy Milburn is back! Mindy did a 365 project, during which she posted a photo a day. Now she's doing a 52-week project, and putting up some lovely stuff.

Leslie R. Lee, another 365 alum, is still posting a new photo almost every day. Sometimes beautiful, sometimes whimsical, he's worth checking every day.

WRITING PROMPT: Write a character who could leave an uncomfortable situation if he or she left behind everything and everyone he or she loved.

MA

Mother Nature Is NOT Funny

She thinks she is, but she isn't.

Charlie and I are flexitarian: We'll eat what's put in front of us when we're out, but we're vegetarian at home. Somehow, this has gotten onto the animal grapevine. So far this spring, the following animals have meandered across the yard in front of the office window or across the road in front of my car.

groundhog
wild turkey
another wild turkey
rabbit
another wild turkey
another rabbit

The turkeys in particular are insultingly casual about it. They stroll around the middle of the road, reaching the verge in time to leap to safety if I don't slow down or to strut in front of me if I stop.

Time was, I would have thought "turkey wrap"! Now, it's more like "turkey rap".

TURKEY RAP

Yo! I am a wild turkey, and I'm here to say,

Shoulda been the symbol of the USA.

I'm smart and I'm noble

Don't make a big show, believe me,

You see me

Just drive away and leave me.

You don't scare me. You don't eat meat.

Sit in your car and admit defeat.

Your eyes shed tears and your empty mouth drools

'Cause I'm a wild turkey, and the turkey rules!

My natural sense of thrift forbids my killing him if I'm not going to eat him. Maybe I could kidnap him and force him to sign me as his manager.

WRITING PROMPT: Is your main character someone who would stop and wait for an animal to get out of the way, someone who would slow down and hope, someone who would let the animal worry about getting out of the way, or someone who would deliberately try to hit it?

MA

Uncle Phineas and His Favorite Fruit

Recipe included.

It's been a busy week for Uncle Phineas, one of the antagonists in EEL'S REVERENCE. He was interviewed at Killer Characters and at The Sinister Scribblings of Sarah E. Glenn. It has set him even higher in his own opinion–he is most pleased.

Uncle Phineas' favorite fruit is tangerine. He ate one with great satisfaction in this scene, in which he, Uncle Gregory and Aunt Isabella are dining with the merchant Theofric and true priest Aunt Libby.

Uncle Phineas showed his bone-white teeth in one of his hideous grins. He sectioned a tangerine as if it were a troublesome but manageable antagonist, popped a wedge into his maw, and chewed with deliberate enjoyment.

Somebody once told me that mandarin oranges were tangerines, and I believed her. Some sources agree with her. Other sources say that mandarin oranges are similar to tangerines, Clementines and satsumas, but are a separate species. One of my favorite salads is a mandarin orange salad, which is actually a lettuce salad with mandarin orange segments in it. It also has green onions and sugared almonds, and a lovely combination it is, too.

Mandarin Orange Salad

Prepare topping first (takes time to cool)

* 2 packages (or 2/3 cup) sliced almonds

* 6 Tbs sugar

At low heat, becoming gradually warmer, place nuts and sugar in non-stick skillet. Stir gently with plastic or rubber spatula until all sugar has crystallized on nuts, and they become light golden color. Place these on aluminum foil, wrap, and place in refrigerator. They will crumble apart easily to be layered on top of salad. [Note from MA: Hide them well--your husband will snack them all up, if you aren't careful.]

Salad

* 1/2 head lettuce (torn or cut into bite-sized pieces)

* 4 stalks celery, diced

* 4 long green onions cut into ringlets

* 5 sprigs fresh parsley

* 1 large can and 1 small can Mandarin oranges, WELL drained

Dressing [Note from MA: I cut the proportions of the dressing WAY down]

warm slightly so sugar will dissolve–add just before serving, toss salad, then sprinkle almonds on top

* 1/4 cup oil (MA: I use sesame oil)

* 1 Tbs vinegar (MA: I use rice vinegar)

* 2 Tbs sugar (MA: I use Turbinado or raw sugar)

* salt, pepper, oregano to taste

Oh, and I posted to Fatal Foodies yesterday, as I always do on Tuesday, with three not-boring vegan dishes.

WRITING PROMPT: What is your main character's favorite fruit? Describe him/her preparing and eating it.

MA

A. J. Walker and Landscape as Character

The indefatigable Mr. A. J. Walker and I are trading blogs today, each posting on the topic of Landscape as Character. While A. J. edifies you here, I'm over at his blog pushing random buttons and flipping unlabeled switches. I hope you'll join me there when you've read his post.

Take it away, sir!

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Landscape as character

Landscape shapes us—our feelings, our lifestyle, and the culture that raises us. As writers we need to understand how landscape shapes our characters and our stories.

My novel, Roots Run Deep, stars Kip Itxaron. Kip is a goblin, a second-class citizen in a world dominated by humans. The book opens with a description her Reservation:

Rain Street was the main thoroughfare through the center of the Goblin Reservation. At its eastern end, on the summit of a rocky hill on which grew only briars and a few stunted trees, stood the palace of Queen Tegla Ezti IV, nominal ruler of the Eight Tribes, but really just a puppet of the human King. The palace's cracked walls and overgrown battlements stood as mute testimony to the poverty and degeneration of the ramshackle town.

From the palace, Rain Street ran downhill through a compact cluster of thatched huts, shacks, and tents housing nearly fifty thousand goblinkin. Human law dictated that the goblinkin had to live within the few square miles of wasteland of the Reservation, a half-hour walk from Vancian, the human capital. The Reservation's lone town took up part of the area, but beyond the crowded buildings and refuse-filled alleyways, Rain Street ran through rocky fields where a few goblinkin families struggled to work the barren soil or hacked granite out of a large quarry. Continuing to the west, the street, now little more than a dirt path, wound through low hills before linking up with the royal highway, a major road that ran along the river before terminating at Vancian's heavily guarded city gate.

The goblins have become what you'd expect people to be when forced to live in such a place. Some make their living as thieves and smugglers. Most drown their sorrows in alcohol, drugs, or gambling. Kip is no exception. Luckily she breaks out of this bondage and sees the world. Unfortunately for her, the first place she visits is the Great Forest, home to elves who have a deep hatred of goblins.

The forest crowded close upon the narrow path. The autumn leaves had all fallen, but thick underbrush obscured their view. Kip shuddered as she looked around her. This wasn't a clean, open forest like along the river or near human settlements; instead it had close-set, gnarled trees and an undergrowth of bushes and briars. Sickly moss covered the stones, and choking ivy, apparently immune to the cold of winter, wound up the trees and crossed their path, tripping them up and at times forcing them to hack through spots where the trail had become blocked. She could barely see twenty paces. On the open wasteland of the Reservation she could at least spot what was coming. . .

A more pleasant experience was the journey to some distant mountains to search for the Lost Tribe, a legendary group of goblins who never bowed down to human tyranny.

Sheer crags of granite jutted into the air to either side of the long, winding column of goblinkin as they worked their weary way up a mountain gorge. Rising ahead of them, brilliant snow-topped peaks cut like shards of glass into a pale blue sky. A relentless wind lifted veils of snow off their summits before rushing down the gorge to batter the men and women struggling to ascend the steep slope.

Each breath made Kip feel like icy razors sliced up her nostrils and into her lungs, yet a sense of lightness and freedom she had never experienced before filled her with joy. The air smelled so clean, so pure. Until she had come here, she had never realized how much the Reservation and the city stank, how the sweaty bodies, piles of garbage, and animal droppings congealed into a miasma of unhealthy vapors. Even the elven forest, far away from the overcrowded human and goblinkin towns, lay oppressed under a thick, damp atmosphere of half-rotted vegetation.

She took another breath and smiled. These mountains, what was it about them? She felt as if she had come home, and not the same way as she had when she returned to the relative safety of the Reservation, that home of necessity in a world that offered no other, but a true home, as if she had been born in these mountains and, until now, had forgotten.

The landscape affects the plot and how Kip feels. The cultures Kip meets are all affected by the landscape. The elves are silent hunters padding through the woods. The mountaindwellers are tough survivors immune to hardship. The humans in their fine city are spoiled and corrupt. And the people of the Goblinkin Reservation have lost hope, at least until a certain Kip Itxaron decides to change things. . .

A.J. Walker is a medievalist and archaeologist. He's the author of Roots Run Deep, a fantasy novel published by Double Dragon. Check out his popular Medieval Mondays series on his blog.

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Thanks, A. J. The book sounds terrific!

WRITING PROMPT: What was the landscape of your main character's childhood? Did he/she had an imagined landscape as well? How did his/her childhood landscape, real and/or imagined, shape him/her?

MA