Marian Allen's Blog, page 477

The Happy! The Happy!

I went out in the woods yesterday, not really expecting to find anything, but I did! I did! No, not a Teddy Bear's Picnic, some mushrooms! Not. That. Kind. ~snaps fingers~ Focus!

What I found was morels, the most delectable fungus on earth. If you don't believe me, visit The Great Morel web site.

I'm posting about morels on Fatal Foodies today, although morels aren't fatal. Unless, of course, one is allergic to them, or so greedy one eats oneself to death on them. Charlie and I shared our with Mom.

As God is merciful, please do not leave comments about how many more you or your cousin found and how big them suckers was. If you make me envious, the sin will be upon your head. God said so. To me. Just now.

WRITING PROMPT: What makes your main character envious? Is he/she ashamed of it, or not?

MA

Tweet Faster! You're Not Tweeting Fast Enough!

I love Twitter. I do. But here's the thing: You have to be pithy to use it well. No, I don't have a lisp. Pithy I said, and pithy I mean. Pith, as we all know because we paid close attention in plant biology, is the central core of the stems of most flowering plants. So "pithy" means getting to the heart of the matter. Pithy tweets are the best.

Sure, you can post a series of tweets, and that's fine, when it's necessary. That's fine, when you're having a conversation with somebody. When you're just making an observation and throwing it out into the timeline for God and everybody to see (sure God tweets–if He's omnipresent, he has to be on all the social networks, doesn't He? All three of Him?), you want your whole thought intact in one tweet.

If you're a writer trying to drum up interest in your work, or any other type of snake oil salesman, you want your whole pitch in 140 characters, and you want most of those characters to be more than a link to additional information.

It isn't Friday, but I just rediscovered this post at The Blood-Red Pencil on this very subject, so I decided to share it today.

As for the title of this post, it comes courtesy of a high school friend of my #4 daughter. #4 and I love Ishtar. Ishtar has a bad rep, but we think it's one of the funniest movies ever made, though less funny now than it was before the Middle East really did become inflamed. At any rate, our heroes were crawling through the desert, and Friend suddenly shouts, "Die faster! You're not dying fast enough!" Apparently, Friend did not share our high opinion of the movie.

Others DO share our opinion. Here is a tribute to the film from another person who claims Ishtar as a family favorite.

And, if you're a writer and don't believe other people's creative process can be as messy as yours, this:

So now you know what kind of sense of humor I have.

WRITING PROMPT: Write a promo for a book, yours or someone else's, in 140 characters or fewer, including spaces, punctuation, and link.

MA

Sample Sunday – Consider the Artichoke

This is an excerpt from the short story "Consider the Artichoke", part of THE KING OF CHEROKEE CREEK.

from CONSIDER THE ARTICHOKE

The evening after TJ Goodnight left home, she was five minutes late for work. Now, she had to rush to scrub the dishwasher spots off the flatware and wrap sets in The Golden Lotus' red paper napkins and bind them with yellow paper bands.

Bud Blossom, owner of the houseboat restaurant, appeared next to the hostess stand, in that unsettling silent way of his, pretending to be astonished to see her. He spoke with a standard Midwestern twang that had seemed odd at first, coming out of such an exotic face: brazen skin, slanted black eyes. By now she expected the voice—and the attitude.

"Oh, TJ—Are you on this shift? I thought it must be Hester's night. She's the only one who comes in late. Know why I let her get by with it? Because she's old, and I feel sorry for her."

"You let her get by with it because you don't pay her. She works for tips." Oh-oh…. I walked right into that one!

"So, you're saying you want the same deal?"

"No."

"You having personal problems?"

TJ dropped the silver she had just gathered. This was the first non-business question he had asked since her interview with him, three months ago, when he had said, "What is it with the name Tara? Do I just attract them, or are all females named Tara these days?" Then he had said, "We already have a Tara on staff. She's got seniority, so you're TJ. Any objections?" And now this unexpected concern.

She shrugged. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Good. This is work. If it's personal, keep it personal."

That's more like it.

* * *

"I spent the night at Julie's, and it took five minutes longer to get here than I thought it would," she told her middle-aged co-worker, Tara Mitchell. She might explain later—Dad and I had another argument, and he told me to move out. Last week, eighteenth birthday party; this week, hit the road. It's okay, though. It'll be okay.—but she didn't have time to get into all that now. Bud discouraged chit-chat. "Bud's letting me clean the plastic flowers to make up for the lost time."

The older woman pursed her lips then said, "An hour's work to pay back five minutes. Trust Bud."

"I don't mind." But would Julie's mom? It didn't seem like a biggie, but you never knew what parents were going to think was too much.

The next time she checked the hostess station, Bud was waiting with a scowl.

"No personal calls," he said.

"I didn't—"

"Some kid named Julie just called for you. Said she's sorry, but her grandparents dropped in from some damn state or other. Said you'll have to stay someplace else. Work it out on break or after your shift. No personal calls." He stalked off.

Now what do I do?

Tara joined her at the station a few minutes later, looking back over her shoulder every couple of steps.

"That man gets weirder every day."

No need to ask who she meant.

"What now?"

"He said I should ask you if they put mints on your pillow at the Honda Hilton."

"He—" That was outrageous, even for Bud.

"TJ, what's up?"

"I'm temporarily residence-impaired." She explained. "I have other friends lined up to stay with for a week or two, just not tonight."

"I got an idea: Why don't you crash on my couch? I would worry about you in the Honda Hilton. I heard they don't clean the bathrooms there.  …I know we don't know each other much. I know I'm just the old lady you work with sometimes. I don't blame you—"

"No talk!" Bud materialized at TJ's elbow, making her jump. "Not pay you to talk!" He shook a finger. "What she say? She ask you, sleep her house? Say no."

"Bud…." TJ waved a hand around her mouth. "What's with the thing?"

Tara shook her head with a sigh. "He caught me reading JOY LUCK CLUB at lunch."

"Lunch over, you still reading."

"He caught me reading JOY LUCK CLUB about two seconds after lunch. He's been talking like that, whenever he thinks about it, ever since."

He shook a finger at TJ again. "You no go her house. She have son, not good for you. Not nice boy, tattoos all over everywhere."

Utterly overcome by this, TJ gave up trying not to laugh.

"What so funny? You sleep in car, sleep on couch with tattoo boy in next room, you not think so funny."

"Will you stop it?" she gasped. "Tara—Thank you. I would be very grateful to sleep on your couch, tattoo boy or no tattoo boy."

Tara's face lit with a shy smile.

"Whatever," Bud said, and spun away to greet a party of regulars.

~   ~   ~   ~   ~

For short excerpts from all the stories, click here.

To buy THE KING OF CHEROKEE CREEK for Kindle, click here.

To buy THE KING OF CHEROKEE CREEK for Barnes and Noble's Nook, click here.

To buy THE KING OF CHEROKEE CREEK in various electronic formats from Smashwords, click here.

WRITING PROMPT: Write a family argument that results in a life-changing alteration in situation or relationships.

MA

p.s. Oh, and just in case the "If you liked this, try that" doesn't turn them up, here are the two interviews I did with Bud.

Interview with Bud Blossom Part One

Interview with Bud Blossom Part Two

Book Tagging – What It Is And How To Do It

As my grandfather used to say when somebody chimed in on a subject under discussion, "Another county heard from." Everybody's talking about book tags these days, so here's my two cents' worth:

Tags are words that a reader might use in searching for a book. Think of a librarian or bookseller asking you, "What can I help you find?" And you say, for example, "I'd like a book about a strong female. If it has a dog in it, that's even better. And I'm going on vacation to Paris next year, so something set in Paris would be fun. Do you have any mysteries like that?" And the librarian or bookseller says, "Hmmm…. Do you like racy stuff?" And you say, "Sure do! In fact, if there's some steamy romance in it, I'm sold!" So the librarian or bookseller thinks, "Strong female, dog, Paris, mystery, racy, steamy, romance," and finds some books to recommend.

That's what tags are. Those key words a reader might use that would turn your book up in a search for what the reader is looking for.

Your name and the name of the book are good tags. If the book is part of a series, the name of the series or the series character or just the word series are good tags.

How to tag books: Go to a book's Amazon page. Hit the t key twice REALFAST. This brings up a tag window. Type in the tags you want and click Save Tags.

Eel's Reverence

http://www.amazon.com/Eels-Reverence-ebook/dp/B00403N1TU/

Marian Allen, Eel's Reverence, Uncle Phineas, attempted genocide, priests, mermaids, older female protagonist, religion, allegory, faith, non-violence, peace, fantasy, race, science fiction

Lonnie, Me and the Hound of Hell

http://www.amazon.com/Lonnie-Me-Hound-Hell-ebook/dp/B003QHZ8K6/

marian allen, lonnie me and the hound of hell, science fiction, bizarro, cats, dogs, fantasy, gay, ghosts, humor, kindle, shape-shifters, short stories, vampires

The King of Cherokee Creek

http://www.amazon.com/King-Cherokee-Creek-ebook/dp/B003KVL1ZO/

marian allen, bud blossom, chinese-american, collection, dragon, family, fantasy, floating restaurant, friendship, kindle authors, literary, short stories

MA's Monthly Hot Flashes

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/tags-on-product/B003JMF7BS/

flash fiction, hot flashes, ma, ghosts, humor, kindle, marian allen, micro fiction, mystery, relationships, romance, science fiction, smart phone stories, 99 cents

This shows the names of my books, the Amazon page addresses of the books, and the tags I prefer.

Once you've done it a couple of times, you'll see how fast and easy it is!

Just play nice. Don't tag a book with something unpleasant like overpriced or lame. Those won't help anybody find the book. Nobody is going to search for overpriced books. Nobody will see negative tags except people who look at the tags, and they'll know those tags were put there by a disgruntled reader who doesn't care enough to do more than key the paint job on the car. If you want to express displeasure, write a review and justify your opinion.

If anybody wants to go to Amazon and tag my books and click the Like button, that would be jolly kind, but suit yourself.

WRITING PROMPT: Pick a book or story, yours or somebody else's. What fifteen words or short phrases would you use to define it so that somebody who didn't know it existed could find it in a search? Remember, they don't know it exists, so it isn't likely they'd search for white whale, although they might search for whaling.

MA

Friday Recommends 3-25-2011

Only one today, because it consists of a series of posts from one blog. Camille LaGuire is posting a series of articles about Mary Sue. Fanfic fans, you know what a Mary Sue is, and you know who you are. (Me, too. Sekrit hanshaik) For those who don't know, or want to pretend they don't know, a Mary Sue is a character who represents the author in a piece of fan fiction. Okay, okay, everybody's looking at the ceiling and whistling, pretending you don't know what fanfic is.

fanfic – fan fiction
fan fiction – a story written by a fan of a book, television show or movie that uses the characters and situation set-up of that book, television show or movie as the basis of the fan's work.
Mary Sue or Gary Stu – a character created by the fan to be the "special guest star" of the fan's work AND who acts as a stand-in for the fan. The Mary Sue is usually either perfect or a goof-up who nevertheless saves the day. Although the term originally meant a wish-fulfillment so blatant it amounted to a violation of the characters and set-up the fan supposedly loves (Spock is my boyfriend. Edward jilted Bella for me.), purists have come to apply the term to any non-series character invented by the fan writer.
Mary Sue or Gary Stu – a story with such a character in it.

I'm particularly pleased with this series of posts because I used to write fanfic, back in the day. In fact, the next book Echelon Press is releasing from me, FORCE OF HABIT, began life as a piece of fanfic. I still have, not the original for FoH but the others in the series, stashed on my old abandoned blahg. Some people called those stories Mary Sues, but I think I gave the main characters enough action that they aren't, really.

Fanfic, Mary Sue or not, is a lot of fun to write, and a good way to stretch writing muscles.

Whether you're interested in the subject or not, I recommend Camille's blog and this series of posts. She's an excellent writer, and has a lot of insight into the writing process. Begin with this post and click on Newer Post until you catch up.

WRITING PROMPT: Start with a book, television show or movie you like and stir that pot: throw in a new character or situation that challenges the status quo. It'll be fun. You know you want to.

MA

A Very Happy Thing

I got an email from my ePal Holly Jahangiri, saying she downloaded EEL'S REVERENCE (not about eels) to her Nook and really liked it! This was at least two happies rolled into one: somebody bought a book and somebody liked it.

Although some writers are in it only for the creative passion or in it only for the artistic expression, I don't know many who don't appreciate a little cash for their efforts. And I, personally, don't know any who don't appreciate hearing something like, "I read an excerpt and I couldn't sleep until I found out what happened next. Then I couldn't sleep because I was reading." Not Holly's words; I'm just sayin'.

Holly, by the way, has already won a role in "By The Book", the short story I'm writing to promote the upcoming re-release of FORCE OF HABIT. She's just been promoted to hero!

WRITING PROMPT: What words make your main character happy? I love you? Quittin' time? Two-for-one sale?

MA

Green Snooties. Not What It Sounds Like.

I know, I know, settle down. Last Thursday, the weather turned really nice and I got a jones for green food (anybody remember Cera the triceratops from LAND BEFORE TIME? "I'll find my own greeen foood!") … I lost my place. Oh, yeah–I got a jones for green food, so I hitched up the buckboard and hauled home a bedload of stuff.

Joanna Foreman has been recommending "green smoothies"–mixtures of raw veg and fruit and liquid run through a blender. So I decided I'd try it.

You can use anything, but you're "supposed" to use more greens than fruit. Here was mine:

kale
spinach
parsley
celery
carrots
banana (skin removed)
(also discarded. don't just take the skin off and then put it in the blender, too. just sayin'.)
sugared strawberries
apple juice

Day 1:  Charlie says, "What's that?" When I told him, he laughed.

Day 2:  Charlie says, "I'm having an egg. Want one? You're just eating that?"

Day 3:  Charlie says, "I guess you don't want anything else."

Day 4:  Charlie says, "I might try a little of that."

Day 5:  Charlie says, "You're tired of it? I kind of liked it. How about making some more?"

So now we're both drinking them. And the reason he laughed on Day 1 is that he used to know, as he put it, "this yuppie couple" who drank ones made out of fruit. He thought they were appropriately called "snooties".

WRITING PROMPT: How does your main character feel about green food?

MA

April A-to-Z

I signed up to participate in the April A-to-Z Challenge. Like, ooooooo, scarreee, post every dayyyyyy. Which I already do, BUT–Wow, that's a big butt. Who you talking to?–You talking to ME? …Er, um, I mean HOWEVER, part of the challenge is that participants blog each day on topics beginning with subsequent letters of the alphabet. Immediately subsequent. Beginning with A. You know: A on the 1st, then B on the 2nd…. And so on…. A could be asinine and B could be boring and C could be criminitly and D could be duh and so on.

If you would like to sign up, click on the badge that says, "Click to join." If you want to know who else is in on the challenge so far, you can find that by clicking the badge or by clicking on the April A-to-Z Challenge tab here on my blog. You will perhaps be happy to hear that part of the challenge is to keep posts extremely short.

Meanwhile, I'm posting at Fatal Foodies today. I'm still going on about that rabbit.

WRITING PROMPT: What signals Spring to you? To your main character? Write a paragraph in which that trigger happens.

MA

Not Here Today

I'm posting at The Write Type today about loglines and why you need them. Like, for instance, if everybody hates your title and didn't tell you until after the book was published….

WRITING PROMPT: Read the articles linked to at The Write Type and write loglines for books and/or stories, yours or someone else's.

MA

Sample Sunday, from "Undivided"

The Southern Indiana Writers Group had a great time at That Book Place yesterday. We had a buncha our anthologies, Ginny Fleming brought KEYS OF ILLUSION, her paranormal romance, T. Lee Harris brought CAT TALES, an anthology with one of her stories in it, Joanna Foreman brought GHOSTS OF INTERSTATE-65, her collection of ghost stories, and I brought SWORD & SORCERESS XXIII, an anthology with one of my stories in it. T also brought WINTER WONDERLAND, her mystery novella, and I brought — yes, of course, EEL'S REVERENCE.

Here is a sample from my story "Undivided" in SSXXIII. Another sample is here.

Pimchan jumped from the wall, landing lightly, and followed. She bore no weapons except her dagger, but a Warrior was a weapon, capable of turning anything to destructive or defensive use against clubs, blades–even, with luck, spears and the new foreign firearms.

The phantoms became more difficult to see as they passed through real carts and real people. Pimchan raised a hand, palm out, at belly level and muttered a string of syllables she had been taught by a very old man in a cold desert cave. The shapes she followed took on a yellow nimbus. She growled–dark blue would have been better in this bright sunlight, but the Glow colored itself arbitrarily. One of the drawbacks of accepting someone else's spell in payment instead of cash.

The second-hand spell fizzled and died in the sunlight and high traffic of the marketplace. Just before the glowing cart entered the turbulence of buyers and sellers, the driver looked back and Pimchan caught the gleam of spectral teeth, as if the shade expected her to try to follow and expected her to fail.

Her quarry gone, she became more than peripherally aware of her surroundings.

Lek, the chestnut seller, with his bags and brazier and bamboo fan, hunkered down at the corner. In a moment, she stood beside him.

Lek raised a heavily wrinkled face and squinted at her as she described the invaders and the generalities of their vehicle. Lek had once served in a Warrior's household, and had no more fear of a Warrior than he did of any of the many other people more powerful than he was.

"I saw a woman in clothes like that with a scratch on her chin driving an old wagon down this street and into the market." He pointed with his fan. "This wagon was painted black, but the paint was peeling. Is that the one you mean?"

"It could be. Tell me more."

"Well…." He scratched his thin beard with his fan. "The grain sacks were white with red catfish on them. The oilcloth was brown, but not the same brown as her clothes. Her clothes were like…. Like your skin, if you forgive the familiarity."

Pimchan glanced at her bare arms: the red-brown of roasted fowl. A difficult color to reproduce in dyed goods. That and the red leather boots pointed to a wealthy household. The disrepair of the wagon and age of the boots pointed to bad times.

Lek went on. "The oilcloth was the color of this dust. Pale."

"Have you seen her before? Or the wagon or the clothing? Or the symbol on the grain sacks?"

Lek shook his head. "But there are a lot of farms and estates and enclaves tucked back in the passes and down in the foothills. They don't always send the same people to town, or the same carrier."

Pimchan bowed her thanks.

"Did they take anything?" Lek's voice sounded concerned, but Pimchan knew he was eager for details. Even the priests' quarters were more open than Warriors' compounds, and any crumb of information would be worth a free drink or even a bowl of rice.

"A purple orchid blossom. They tried to take a white one, as well, but they were stung and gave it up."

"A precious blossom?"

Pimchan shook her head. "One of many. They just wanted a trophy, I think, to prove they won a dare. I hope it was worth it to them."

Even if this had been the harmless prank she had invented, the taboo against entering a Warrior's domain without permission could not be broken without punishment. The outrage that had actually been committed demanded worse than death, and only a Warrior's domestic impenetrability would keep the revenge from being as public as possible. Instead, it would be an open secret, communicated by whispers and facial expressions and nodded understandings, unspoken horrors that would enforce the taboo on impressionable young minds so it would be less likely to happen again.

This was not a prank. It was not even a crime. It was a gambit–a move in a game that had yet to be announced.

WRITING PROMPT: If you could buy a spell that would work once, what would it be?

MA