K.B. Inglee's Blog: The Shepherd's Notes, page 7

Book? What's a Book?

For the last couple of weeks I have been over my head in other people's manuscripts. It started when I agreed to be one of many judges in an annual regional contest. I read ten manuscripts and will end up judging eight of them. I told them my druthers would be to have mysteries, history, and short stories. Most of what I got was pretty readable. When I opened one, the track changes were on and the writers name appeared after every paragraph. That is a no-no for a judged manuscript. The second one I ended up not reading was listed as Metafiction. I remember once reading a short story from the point of view of the memories locked in a trunk in the attic. This was sort of like that. I never figured out what the point of view thing was, thought I was leaning toward curtains. I was pretty sure I couldn't give a fair and impartial critique or scoring, so I sent it back. 

Then there is my critique group.  This month there were three manuscripts. The short one was 3200 words the longest 8500.

So that's a total of 13 manuscripts read, and 11 critiques. I have no idea how many words that is. Reading something in manuscript sets me into critique mode. Most come by email and I have to print it out and read with a red or blue pen in hand. It is impossible for me to read something on an 8.5x11 unbound sheet without writing all over it.

I have been asked to moderate a panel at a writer's conference, four authors, four more manuscripts. I bought the first one for my e-reader. It does have advantages. The works are usually less expensive than print books. My e-book turns itself off if I fall asleep while reading it. It hasn't learned to take my glasses off. I don't find it easy to move back and forth, to check out something I have already read, or want to look ahead at something as I do frequently with non-fiction.

Two of the four I borrowed from the library. The Delaware library system doesn’t always have what I need, but it is a great way to taste books or to get to know an author. It is wonderful for conference preparation reading. These are books with covers and pages I can turn, all bound together. That is the form of reading I enjoy most.

That leaves one book still to track down. I wonder in what form it will come to me.

I have yet to 'read' an audio book, though my niece and daughter do it regularly. I have listened to snatches, but I know my mind would wander if I tried a whole book.

I'd love to know what form you prefer and why.

Happy Birthday to Me

They were on my front porch just before dinner. Three copies of And All Our Yesterdays.

Why am I so excited about this? It's not the first short story I have had published, nor is it the first one where the other people involved chose me totally on the merits of the story, not on friendship, or involvement in the project.

I have not have hundreds of stories published, but I am satisfied with my progress. I have enough credentials to serve on panels at conferences, appear at writers' events and have a bunch of friends who are writers.

I had submitted previously to this publisher and been rejected. If I haven't learned anything else about writing I have learned that rejection is par for the course. I have a drawer full of rejection slips from the time when they still came in the mail. Now I have a file on my computer.

I was thinking of myself as a successful writer when I submitted "The Devil's Quote" to Darkhouse Books. Once I submit a manuscript I list it on my work file and forget I sent it.

I started work on two new stores. One was for my own fun, the other was for a particular anthology. One is now out there waiting for someone to judge it. The other isn't ready to go yet.

I don’t even remember how I found out that this story had been accepted. Must have been an e-mail from the editor Andrew Macrae. Contracts signed, the story came back for a few edits. My philosophe on edits is that I will make all the changes an editor requests unless I feel strongly enough about the change to be willing to pull the story if the editor disagrees.

Two edits I have refused to make on previous stories:

The murderer hid behind a bush, and I was asked to change "bush" to "shrub". I made all the other changes but said the connotation of "shrub" is that it is something too small to hide behind. I was willing to find another word if she wanted me to. "Bush" it was.

The other was in a work set in the 1880s in which I used the word "policeman". “What about policewomen?” asked the editor. The Washington police force was not going to start hiring women for another five years. Since I could prove I was right, the editor backed down. I have a reputation for getting the historical stuff right.

Then the cover was in my email one morning. I fell in love. I have seen so many crummy covers lately that I was not expecting much. But this one was perfect.

The time between the cover reveal and having a book in hand was unbearable. I felt the way most writers say they feel between the time they send out a manuscript and the time they hear back with either rejection or acceptance.

If you are thinking about submitting for the first time consider these tips:

Send the best manuscript you can. Follow the guidelines. Don't send more than is requested. No notes from you mother or your dog saying how great the story is. This is a business transaction, so be businesslike.

Before you get back a rejection, know where you are going to send the manuscript next. Do so at once.

If you are submitting something and it comes back with edits requested, think carefully about refusing to make the changes the editor requests. Editors are smart and knowledgeable. They know how to make a story better, and fit it to the readers. 

If you are a reader, know how hard both the writer and the editor worked to bring you the best work possible.

Swamp Castle Day

Do people often have their own personal holiday? My family does.

March 9th is Swamp Castle Day.

My father's family hadn't owned houses for generations. When my grandparents retired they bought a house. My mother's mother returned to Nova Scotia after she retired and her kids were married. She built a house in the orchard of the old family farm.

My husband's parents owned a house that they inherited form his grandmother. But I didn't have a history of land ownership. It never occurred to me that I should own a house.

When my aunt died she left me enough money for a down payment. I was reluctant to launch into the process of looking for a house to buy. My daughter was engaged at the time to a young man who could not understand my reticence.  His family had been in the same house for generations. I guess I didn't either.

So with Mark at our side, my husband and I looked at many housed I didn't want to own. One was filled with cat figurines and cats. One had a radio system piped into every room. One had a bit of pine board with a selection of types of barbed wire by the front door. Many seemed built of cardboard and scotch tape. Some had really weird floor plans. After months of searching, to the point that I was ready to give up, we found the prefect house. It was in a town not a development. I could walk to stores. It was less than two miles from my job. Most of all we loved the house. No one was living in it when we decided it was the house for us.

Once our bid had been accepted we went to do a walk thorough before closing. I was standing looking out the master bedroom window at the ancient trees. My daughter came up behind me and I said, someday this will be yours. Without missing a beat, she said, "What the curtains?"

So our new home became Swamp Castle. The day happened to be my aunt's birthday, the one who had left us the money to buy the house. March 9.

If you have no clue what I am talking about get a copy of Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

Happy Birthday, Auntie Kay.

Want to Live in the Past, Not So Much

This blog is brought to you by two books:
  Let it Snow by the Bethlehem Writers Roundtable, best short stories of 2014. My short story "Weaver's Trade" is the lead story. A weaver, having lost his family (see Doctors and Dentists below) rents the home he built for them to strangers. http://www.amazon.com/Let-Snow-Bethlehem-Roundtable-Collection-ebook/dp/B00TT7V2MA/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1425302502&sr=1-4&keywords=let+it+snow

  And all our Yesterdays an anthology of mystery stories set in the past, published by Darkhouse Books. Out sometime in March. Again the lead story is mine. In "The Devil's Quote", Iccarus Norton finds himself accused of murder and has to prove his innocence from his jail cell. http://www.amazon.com/All-Our-Yesterdays-Andrew-MacRae/dp/0990842894/ref=sr_1_10?ie=UTF8&qid=1425229971&sr=8-10&keywords=And+all+our+yesterdays  

Both stories are set in Massachusetts, one in the 1640s and one in 1799.

 
OK. Here's the real blog
 
The questions writers get asked most frequently is "where do you get your ideas?" I expect to get asked "why do you write historicals? Or short stories?" But, no. I'm asked "would you like to live in the times you write about?"

Sometimes it is a statement, "You must write historical because you want to go live in the past."

No one ever asks the more appropriate question, "What would you miss if you lived back then?"

I have no way of knowing what I would miss since I would never have had it.

Looking at it from this end, here are the things I think I would miss most if I found myself suddenly transported to the 1600 or 1700 or even 1800s:  

HOT SHOWERS
Every morning I step into a hot shower. I have not had to split the wood, haul the water from the well, heat the water over a wood fire and then have enough to come up to my ankles. There's nothing like hot water pounding my achy shoulders or hip.

DOCTORS AND DENTISTS
I'll add to that the germ theory of disease. I would not like to be bled or purged or all the other things that come with the humors theory of disease. Roughly half of the colonists died, and many of the natives who came into contact with them, all from things that can be prevented or cured today.

Many children died before the age of five, something that almost never happens today.
 
INDOOR PLUMBING AND TOILET PAPER
I don't think this needs any explanation.

PRINTING PRESSES AND INEXPENSIVE BOOKS
While the Bible is a fine and varied book, and I own at least four, I would not like it to be the only book in the house.

CANNED SOUP
When I am feeling poorly there is nothing like a can of chicken noodle soup with saltines.

CENTRAL HEATING
Even my parents had to stoke the fire in the furnace every morning and a couple of times a day. All I have to do is put the thermostat up. A fireplace in every room does little to bring comfort in winters like this one we hope will be over soon.

INSURANCE
I have medical and dental for my bodily needs. Both my car and house are covered. Most of my funeral expenses are prepaid.  

Since I am a writer, I do appreciate MODERN WRITING TECHNOLOGY
I wrote my first novel longhand but for the second draft I used a computer. It wasn't so long ago that writers had to bang out error free copies of their work on clunky typewriters using carbon paper. We've only had these machines since the late 1800s. Before that manuscripts were done by hand with pen and ink.   

I am tempted to add birth control. I've thought about this lots over the years, and I suspect that I would have been content with being a woman in the age when a child every two years was an expected part of life.  

If I wrote a blog on what I would like about living in the past it would be very short.

Living in another time or place long enough to write a story, now, that's a whole different matter.

A Week Without Writing

Advertisement first, then blog:

My short story "Weaver's Trade", is republished in Let it Snow. It's set in the early 1600s in an unnamed New England colony. Following the death of his family (50% of colonists died in the first year, sometimes the whole colony was wiped out) the weaver rents his house to strangers. It was my Christmas story several years ago, and it won second place in the Bethlehem Writers Roundtable the next year. The anthology is full of wonderful winter stories. You can find Let it Snow at Amazon: http://bit.ly/BWRLetItSnow

I missed my blog deadline last week because by the time I was supposed to be writing it I didn't have enough energy to hit the keys with any accuracy. Sometimes being a writer can be hard physical work.

The week before I was to write and post, I did three days of work at my museum job. That is paid, and if I don't make some money I will have to stop eating.

I attendee two writers events. One was a day long presentation at a library, an hour's drive away in the snow. The other was my critique group meeting which comes at the end of a day of work.

On Wednesday I took a group of school kids back to the 18th century and on Thursday a group of adults to the 19th. There were the regular sheep tasks. All this would have been fine if the temperature hadn't been hovering above 0. Except for the library which was toasty, all this was done in some degree of cold. During the week I was trying to dash off 1000 words each day.

When I got home from critique group on Monday night I collapsed, and have pretty much been that way ever since.

The up side is that everything I did, was something I love and wanted to do. I couldn't possibly said "No" to any of these things.

I submitted a story to my critique group and was waiting for their verdict. It is one I wrote for a specific publication and really want to have it published. They could have told me it was rotten and I ought to toss it. I knew it was incomplete, but I didn't quite know what to do with it. More background? More character development? More plot? As usual they came through for me.

Today I was awake enough to make the necessary changes to the story. Now it sits for a bit and then gets a read from someone else. Then off it goes.

It hasn't been all rushing around and meeting the public. I have two stories coming out in anthologies. The first will be out by the time you read this, the second sometime in March. Maybe for my birthday. Needless to say I am very pleased with that. More on the March one closer to publication.

 

Building a Short Story

Every author uses a different set of steps to get to the final work.

Practically the first thing an author you have just been introduced to will ask you is “Pantser or plotter?”

The question means “Do you plot everything out before you start writing, or do you fly by the seat of your pants?” Every writer does both but most writers are willing to put themselves into one category or the other. I happily identify myself as a pantser, though I prefer call myself a “blank pager.” I spend maybe three times as long thinking the problems through as I do putting words on paper. And I do it as I go along. But if I write it all down, and have finished the story in my mind, then I am done with it, and I will never finish the writing. 

The story I am writing now was all done except for a single plot point. I had struggled with the identity of the killer, how to use the other characters to best advantage, and how to tell the story of the setting without telling too much (as opposed to showing) or drowning the story in the place and time. Then, when it was nearly done, I still had to figure out how the protagonist solved it. Two simple sentences, one near the beginning and one near the end were all I needed. As often happens, the answer came in the early morning before I climbed out of my warm bed. So right after walking the dog, I put the two sentences in their places.

I now have about 3000 words on paper, but I am not done.

I am big on research and pick topics that take a lot of it. I do it before I start; I do it as I go along; I do it after I have written the end. I still have to figure out if Ned could light a cigarette in 1850, or if he could smoke a cigarette at all. Since I am using a real event, I need to know who was there and what they did and what the outcome was.

Oh, yes, and I struggle with names. Poor Ned was Ted for the first half. I still have to decide which one he really is. One funny tid-bit about naming. I come up with first names separate from last names. Nicknames come even later. When I had a name for one of the characters, first and last, I realized that when I called her by her nick name, she bore the rather unique name of an acquaintance. Said acquaintance would not be at all pleased with sharing anything at all with that particular character. So I changed her last name and still have to go back and make sure it is changed everywhere. Glory be for search and replace. Except the last name was the name of a common object, I can see sending the MS off with the following sentence. “She went to the sideboard and rang the dinner Adams.”

I’ve got a couple more hours of work on it then it goes to my critique group who will tell me things like, “the motive is not strong enough” or “the clue is too weak.” I may even get both “Too much setting” and “not enough setting.”

Finally I have to decide what to do about their comments. Some are easy fixes, like changing an adjective. Some don’t need fixing. Most often I find the change needs to be in a different spot from the comment. When John says the main character isn't strong enough, I have to fix that.

February is Fanowrimo

First a bit of news: I have two short stories somewhere between signing the contract and publication. "The Devil's Quote" in And All Our Yesterdays, is due out in March. "Weaver's Trade" will be the lead story in Let it Snow, the Bethlehem Writers Roundtable e-anthology (with the hope of a print book to follow). 

 

My daughter, Elizabeth Inglee-Richards, has challenged me to a writing contest starting today and ending the last day of February. She has participated in Nanowrimo several times, but I have not. That's National Novel Writing Month, run every November. It encourages writers to get butt in chair and write. There are inspirational tips, lots of support, even people not participating cheer you on. It is a great way to come up with a first draft. I think you get a tee-shirt if you actually make the goal. You are allowed to do all the prep work first, outline if that's the way you go, develop your characters, do your research. I've done all that, so I am ready to get started. I guess this would be Fanowrimo or Family Novel Writing Month.

November is a tough month for her to write consistently. Trade shows take a huge amount of time. Pack up a store's worth of stuff, drive 500 miles, set it all up, show off for three days and then reverse the process and still get 50,000 words written. As for me, I've never gone for quantity. So this will be new for me.

I will be writing my short story from beginning to end then going back to my novel in process. At this point Death on the Delaware reads like a very long short story. No surprise since short stories are what I write. It is very sparse. I'm used to cutting out every word that doesn't forward the plot. Reading DonD it is like traveling in the desert with no oasis. That's great for a short story, but not so good for a novel.

I am going to start over from word one. No rewrites of previous drafts, just chug ahead, and see what I come up with.

One of the skills I practiced when I wrote my first novel was turning off my internal editor. The little voice in my head objected to every word I wrote. At the time I was writing longhand. I didn't have a lap top and I was traveling by train a lot. The process of getting the words on the paper is slower when you are writing long hand, so the little voice had lots of time to nag. On the other hand it is harder to delete longhand than work produced on a computer. I did finally get to the point where I could ignore the voice, but it never went away.

By the time I found Nano, I had already dealt with my internal editor. I had written three novels, and a bunch of short stories. I had been published. I didn't need to push the words out.

Much to my surprise I am pretty psyched about the whole process. Can’t wait to start.

How to be a Writer Without Writing

It has been an interesting week. I received a check for $.32. That's right, 32 cents. It is a royalty check for two copies of a short story. But never mind. I have a check for $5 coming soon. That will probably be it for a while. I know a few people who have gone into writing for the money, but most were disappointed. I never expected the big bucks, so I am happy to chug along slowly.

I feel like I have written a million words this week but none of it is on my work in progress.

First was my own blog for last week. Posted here under this one.

Each time someone requests a 50 word biography I write it new. I have a whole file of nearly identical 25, 50 and 70 word bios. I wrote three of those this week. All slightly different.

I also sent of two copies of my newly done (well, early fall) professional photographs. My daughter and I spent a wonderful afternoon with a friend, fellow historical interpreter and professional photographer. He was quick, funny, easy to work with. Just in case Bodge (she writes as Elizabeth Inglee-Richards) and I every do a joint program, we had a series of photos of us together.

Another friend and fellow writer decided to open his blog to anyone who was willing to fill out his questionnaire. I can't resist a questionnaire so I sat right down and filled it out. Once I even answered a bunch of questions that someone sent me as an example of how unreasonable blog owners are in their expectations of other writers. I thought it was fun. Find it here: http://blog.jamesmjackson.com/2015/01/author-guest-post-kb-inglee.html

Last weekend I attended the re-opening of Between Books, the local independent bookstore run by a friend. The store went out of business when the owner lost the lease so the strip mall could combine several smaller stores and rent to a big well known firm.

Tonight I have to dress in period clothing and go to a wine tasting. I won't be tasting anything since I never drink (or even taste) and drive. I will be giving tours of the gristmill and woolen mill for the drinkers. Maybe I will take copies of my book to sell.

It is time to figure out who gets this year's Cadaver. Last year I decided that if all the big organizations could give out awards, some of which are juried, and some of which are popular choice, I could give out my own. I had knit this funny little being, about 7 inches long, of pink cheap yarn. I had intended to turn it into a doll dressed like me at the wine tasting, but as it lay naked on my table waiting for clothing, I decided it looked more like a cadaver so I stitched a Y incision on it and covered it with a napkin. It kicked around the house for a while before I decided to award it. First winner: Kaye George for Death in the Time of Ice.

If nothing else is gained from the week, look at how many friends I have in the mystery writing community.

Now back to the story. I have a deadline.

Finding Ourselves in the Books We Read

My favorite work by Dick Francis is Nerve. It gives the reader a punishment suited to the crime even though the “crime” is not a breach of law, but an abuse of power. There is a point in the book when our hero needs to hide a horse, so he takes it to a stable run by a woman in her 70s.

I was nowhere near 70 when I read the book, but I expected to be someday.

 

I pictured this woman creeping around the barn slowing everything down so that she could handle the work that she still loved after all the years. At the time I read the book, could pick up a bale of hay and toss it. I could tip a 100 pound bag of grain into the bin. Now I can’t.

 

At that time I was barn manager for a small riding and boarding stable. Could I still be doing it when I was the age of this fictional woman? There is a lot of heavy labor to running a barn. Bales of hay run from 40 to 60 pounds. Bags of grain can be 40, 50 or 100 pounds. Mucking stalls consists of lifting wet straw and horse waste into a wheelbarrow and dumping it in a muck heap. Then there are the horses themselves. They are big and pushy. Things that horses do naturally, like nip, don’t work well with their human caretakers. They may not mean to push you over and step on you, but it hurts just as much as if it were intentional.

 

In my early 60s I graduated from horses to sheep. I’m going to consider that an upward movement, since it was dictated by my situation rather than by the size of the animal or my own physical condition. I do admit that I feel safer when the sheep step on my feet, since they leave bruises not broken bones. I liked being mobbed by the flock when I came to feed. My balance isn't great, but then seldom knocked me over.

 

Now I am the age of the woman in the Francis novel. I compare myself to her all the time. I can still lift 50 pounds but not as easily as I did when I was 55. Could she? I am slower. I was never particularly good at catching animals, but I am getting slower and now it is almost impossible. Was it harder for her? Three years ago I was driving to the feed store, buying grain and carrying the bags into the barn. I don’t do that anymore. Did she hire handsome young men from the village to help her? Why can’t I? Young men are just as attractive as they ever were. That doesn’t seem to change with age.

 

I have recently discovered a symptom of old age I hadn't known existed. Fear of falling. Wet grassy or icy slopes, stairs without railings, climbing over fences where there is no gate, they all terrify me now. I used to think it was fun. I don’t mind the bruise on my foot shaped like a hoof, or the black and blue mark on my hip where the ram got me this morning. I am convinced that one major broken bone will be the end of my barn career, and maybe everything else I enjoy. Will I stop writing if I am laid up with a bum hip? How long can I keep this up?

New Year, New Inspiration