Phyllis Anne Duncan (P. A. Duncan)'s Blog, page 48

A Gathering of Friday Fictioneers

If it’s the weekend, I must be going to a writer’s conference. This weekend is “A Gathering of Writers” in Winston-Salem, NC. Press 53, a small, independent press, sponsors this one-day conference. I attended last year and enjoyed the presentations and the camaraderie. So, I’m off again–though the three-hour drive while still recovering from my cold is a bit daunting.

There”ll be a book launch on Friday night–Mary Akers’ Bones of an Inland Sea, published by Press 53–then the panels begin on Saturday morning. I’ll actually be attending a workshop given by Mary Akers entitled, “How to Haunt Your Reader.” No ghosts for this, just the use of language to evoke mood that resonates.

I’ll also be going to “The Compelling Story” workshop, given by Michael Kardos; “Inhabiting Story Through Images of Place,” given by Darlin’ Neal; and “Picking Your Perspective,” given by Henriette Lazaridis Power. We’ll close out the day with faculty readings lots of writer networking.

Today’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt is one of those shots you can’t plan, and most of the time you don’t realize you have “the shot” until you look at it later. There are lots of things to focus on in this picture, but you’ll see in my story, “Prima Ballerina,” what stood out for me. As usual, if you don’t see the link on the title, scroll to the top of the page, click on the Friday Fictioneers tab, then select the story from the drop-down list.

Navigating Your Writing Life – 2013

I wasn’t supposed to be home this past weekend. I was supposed to be at my great niece’s first birthday party in Preston, CT. My cold had other ideas, so cancelled airline reservations, rental car, and hotel later, I sat at home with a box of tissues at hand. By Saturday, I woke feeling at about sixty percent of normal and thought a trip “over the mountain” to Charlottesville might be in order.

Last year I wrote about the Virginia Writers Club‘s Navigating Your 2012 Writing Life, and when I saw that my weekend in Connecticut coincided with this year’s symposium, I was dismayed. The one-day symposium provided some excellent information, and this year’s promised to build on that. However, the choice was easy–cute, adorable one-year-old wins out over a writers conference every time.

After a day or so of bemoaning the inconvenience of a cold’s preventing me from attending a significant family event, I learned someone sicker than I had cancelled for the 2013 conference, so I had an opening. Off I went.

In three time slots, the symposium offered nine workshops, and choosing was particularly difficult: (The ones in red are the ones I attended.)

Publishing Modes

Websites, Blogs, and Social Media

Poetry and Its Markets

Nuts and Bolts of E-Booking

Placing Nonfiction in Newspapers, Magazines, and on Radio

Join the Cool Crowd: Write Young Adult Fiction

Self-Review and Preparing Submissions

Publishing Scams to Avoid

Contests and Submissions: Getting Your Work Out There

Kathleen Grissom, author of The Kitchen House, was the keynote speaker. I’ve heard her speak about how she came to write her New York Times best-seller on several other occasions, but I learn something new about the writing process every time.

In our social media era, an Internet presence is essential for an emerging author, and “Websites, Blogs, and Social Media” provided practical tips for improving your Internet footprint–or establishing it. The format for workshops this year was excellent–the moderator asked the panel a few (a very few) pre-arranged (but good) questions, which the panel discussed, then the workshop opened to questions from the floor. I’ve long had a web presence, but I learned some things to improve it and make it reflect my writing better. For example, the name I use for writing appears nowhere on my home page. Duh. Had to fix that.

The same was true of “Nuts and Bolts of E-Booking.” I’ve published three e-books, but this was a good review of the various ways to publish your work independently. However, I would have liked to have heard the panelists emphasize pre-publication preparation (editing, proofreading, good grammar, etc.) more than they did. The panel was a good mix of an established, traditionally published author who switched to independent publishing, an author who tried the agent route and didn’t get one then went indie, and an author who went directly for independent publishing.

Since I’ve entered several contests this year, I wanted to see what I could learn in terms of improving my chances of winning or placing from “Contests and Submissions.” Again, a well-staffed panel of contest managers, judges, and winners provided timely and cogent information. However, my afternoon coughing jag started up and escalated to the point where I had to leave.

That meant I missed the networking session that afternoon. Networking with other writers, editors, and publishers is often the best part of a conference, and I was sorry to miss it. However, I’d spread enough germs.

Last year’s symposium was good. This year’s was excellent–very professional and well-organized. One great change from last year is that each participant got a symposium notebook, filled with presentations, handouts, and additional information for each panel–so I can benefit from the ones I was unable to attend. Betsy Ashton, author of Mad Max: Unintended Consequences and President of the Virginia Writers Club, told me, “We want this symposium to be the premier event for Virginia Writers Club–and for Virginia writers.” It’s well on its way to being just that.

An August Friday Fictioneers

Nothing much can knock me off my writing game except for being sick. On Sunday I felt the first inkling of a cold, and by Monday morning, I had the whole nine yards–blocked sinuses, wheezing, runny nose, sore throat, and coughing. Oi! The coughing. I have very well-controlled asthma, until I get a cold. A cold, of course being caused by a virus, means no antibiotics. So, fluids, rest, plenty of tissues, some honey and cinnamon, and generous use of my rescue inhaler, and I can manage the energy to breathe, but not much else.

So, no Monday post for this blog, Unexpected Paths; no Politics Wednesday. By late Thursday I was beginning to feel human enough to do the homework for an online workshop for Thursday night and to draft a Friday Fictioneers flash fiction piece. Total number of words written for the week–just about 1,000. Not the most productive week, but at least it’s not because I’m goofing off.

Mainly because I’ve been sustained amid all that bed rest with marathons of old TV shows and Amazon streaming video, I must have been waxing a bit nostalgic when I got the photo prompt for this week’s Friday Fictioneers. There’s an obscure hint in the story’s title, “Everything Dies,” and the story is an homage to an old sci-fi show I loved. When you see the photo prompt, then the story, it’ll all make sense. I hope. Regardless, it came from my rhinovirus-addled brain.

As usual, if you don’t see the link on the title, scroll to the top of the page, click on the Friday Fictioneers tap, then select the story from the drop-down list.

Friday Fictioneers–and a Finish!

The first rewrite of my “Tinker Mountain” manuscript is done! Woo-hoo! I worked for the most part of twelve hours the other day and got it in the can. Scrivener has a great tool–Compile–which, after a couple of mouse-clicks, renders a fully formatted manuscript. In my case it came to 398 pages. Oi! Too much for either of my printers, so a quick email to my local Staples, and I had a copy.

Oh, I was so tempted to pick up my red pen and dig in! Patience, though. I want to set it aside for a week or two, get it out of my head, then delve into the line edit. I have some decisions to make: Do I want to show the bad guy (who seduces one girl and rapes another on the same day) exhibiting some redeeming quality? As in, he saves the men in his unit from a German machine gun assault on D-Day? Or do I just acknowledge this as fact and let his egregious behavior stand on its own? Rather than just show another character’s “fatal flaw” (the fact he can’t keep his fly zipped when a younger woman is around), do I include some back story to explain why he is the way he is?

So, those thoughts, and more, will be bouncing around inside my head for the next couple of weeks. I hope they’ll be resolved by the time I sit down with the red pen.

Today’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt comes from a place I’ve been lucky to visit twice–our 50th state, Hawaii. It’s an incredible shot from Mauna Kea on the Big Island, across the ocean, to the smaller island of Maui. Truly beautiful, and it was very inspirational. I love Hawaii, with the mixture of modern, urban life and native Hawaiian spirituality. And where else can you get up close and personal with extinct and not-so-extinct volcanoes?

I hope you enjoy “Free Flight,” and, as usual, if you don’t see the link on the title, scroll to the top of the page, click on the Friday Fictioneers tab, then select the story from the drop-down list.

My Three Rs: Rereadin’, Rewritin’, and Revisin’

Some days you have to choose–blogging versus spending quality time with the grandkids and one of your BFFs. Yesterday, the grandkids and the BFF won. So, no blogging, though I did spend a couple of hours in the evening working on the novel rewrite/revision.

I have about forty pages left from the original, rough draft to rewrite/revise. In the process I’ve added about 10,000 words to a manuscript, which was “just” 63,000 words to begin with. I’ve been told 60,000 to 70,000 words is a good length for an MS you’re going to shop to agents. Of course, I’ve also been told, at a different writing conference, that 100,000 words is tops for such an MS. So, who knows?

I think this first revision will end up at about 76,000 words, give or take a thousand. That doesn’t bother me, since the next step–after letting the MS gel a while–is to do a line edit. That should bring me back closer to 70-72,000 words, which I think is enough to tell a story in two time lines.

Why did I add words in a rewrite? Well, that happens sometimes, especially after time has passed since you wrote the draft and a re-read shows you scenes, which have no context. The actions, dialogue, setting, etc., seem to have just fallen from the ether onto the page. The context has to be there, or the reader will spot the disconnect right away. Sometimes the additional material has to be there to make a character two- or even three-dimensional. Other times it’s because what is obvious to the writer isn’t always to the reader. Yes, readers like it when you give them just enough for them to make the leap of logic; however, you can’t give them a chasm to jump. Readers are not Evel Knievel.

Here’s an example: A character in this novel is obsessed with the unborn child of her own son, killed in World War II. It wasn’t enough to just state this. I needed to show examples of this obsession, and this led to a scene of a frenzied woman going to the house where her daughter-in-law has sought refuge from her and making a scene. And of course, I had to write other scenes to show this tendency so that the final scene had context and was believable. Also, of course, those scenes may not stay, but at the time I needed them to understand this character better. You can’t condense until you have the context of the characters, the plot, even the setting.

Another example: Since I made up a town in the Shenandoah Valley, I had to give it a history, some of which is based on three different towns where I’ve resided, as a child, a teenager, and an adult. The history is great–I both researched and relied on my memory, and I’ve created what comes across, to me, as a real place. However, again, how much of that history is essential to the overall story in the novel remains to be seen, but I needed that to fully realize this fictional town in my head.

Of course, this fixation on rewriting/revising means I’ve created very little original material, at least not novel length. I average two pieces of flash fiction a week, which keeps the writing brain engaged. I do, however, miss the process of sitting down and churning out a novel-length work.

Then, again, that’s what NaNoWriMo is for–and that’s only three months away.

Three months? I guess I better start thinking about something new to write.

A Hot and Steamy Friday Fictioneers

I’ll wager that got your attention, but my only meaning is the heat wave we’ve been experiencing here on the east coast. Yes, summers in the mid-Atlantic are supposed to be hot and humid, but this goes beyond that to oppressive. Makes me want to return to the wonderful seventies in Oregon. (And did I luck out there–I spent a week there between two heat waves. I must have racked up some particularly good karma.)

The heat leaches energy and creativity from every pore of your body, and though I had a concept right away for today’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt–the bicycle had been placed just so to signal someone–I wasn’t sure how I wanted it to go. A pre-arranged signal for an elopement? An indication to a roommate to stay away a while longer? A warning of an unwanted guest?

Each of those sounded pretty intriguing, but my thoughts came back to a place I’ve dealt with in fiction before–The Balkans in the 1990′s, the scene of some of the worst genocide based on religion since World War II.

Many aspects of the civil war in the Balkans baffled historians and diplomats, namely, how could people who had lived together peacefully for centuries suddenly turn on neighbors, even family members by marriage? That was the aspect played up most in the western press. What we didn’t often see were the selfless acts of courage by one ethnic group to protect the other. I’ve tried to pay homage to that in “Band of Brothers.”

If you don’t see the link on the story’s title, then scroll to the top of this page and click on the Friday Fictioneers tab. Then, you can select the story from the drop-down list.

Back to the Real World

Yesterday, when I was supposed to blog, my brain was still jet-lagged. You spend a week in a beautiful state on the west coast, and by the time you adjust to the three-hour time difference, it’s time to come home–and adjust to the three-hour time difference. I know the purpose of a vacation is to “vacate” your regular life and relax, but I felt bad that I didn’t do any writing, except for a 100-word Friday Fictioneers piece. I did no work at all on the project I’m in the middle of revising. Bad me.

A writer friend pointed out over coffee yesterday afternoon that the break from the revision project is probably good, that I likely needed to take a step back, not think about it, then dive back in. Sounds like a plan, except that yesterday my brain couldn’t wrap itself around what time zone it occupied, much less concentrating on revising a novel.

Let’s hope today is better and more productive, and at least I’m writing a blog post. That has to count for something.

In Memoriam

Now on to something a bit more serious. A writer died over the weekend. He didn’t have the national notoriety of a Richard Matheson or a Vince Flynn, but he was beloved here in the Shenandoah Valley and among his fellow writers in the Staunton, Waynesboro, Augusta Group of Writers (SWAG Writers). His poetry, whether about animals he spotted in his yard, lost loves, or eccentric composers, was sublime and touching. He was initially dubious about our open mic nights. “Can’t we just sit at the table and read to each other?” he asked. We encouraged him to the stage, but he didn’t have enough light to see his pages. We would take turns over the weeks and months holding a lamp over his shoulder so he could see well enough to read. Why? Because his poetry was wonderful. He gradually took to the applause and was often among the first to sign up for reading slots.

Then, in the past few months, he stopped coming. We tried to find out what was wrong through mutual friends, and we heard that he just “isn’t doing well,” a southern metaphor for “he doesn’t have much time left.” Then, we heard he would be coming back to SWAG Open Mic night this month, but he didn’t show. Again, we asked around, and then we got the news. He had passed away this past Saturday at the age of 79, far too young we thought.

His obit described him as “a loving father, grandfather, friend, musician, teacher, choir director, author, poet, and wine connoisseur.” I think we in SWAG got to experience each aspect of him through his poetry readings. We had already missed his whimsical verse over the past few months, and now knowing we’ll never hear it again is disheartening. He was a true Renaissance Man, whose wit and wisdom we will miss, and we are lessened in our craft by the loss of him.

Ted Grudzinski

Rest in peace, Theodore George Grudzinski, poet and fellow SWAGger. We will always keep a chair at the table for you.

Friday Fictioneers From Oregon

Oregon is truly one of the most beautiful states in the union. The coast is an amazing collection of eclectic little towns and medium-sized cities. It is a bit reminiscent of the Maine coast in places–just a bit more spectacular. I’m staying in a small beach town called Rockaway Beach, about 100 miles west of Portland. The beach is gorgeous and not the mass of packed bodies like most east coast beaches–great for walking and contemplating, as well as for the wedding which was the purpose for my trip out here.

The Astoria Column, whose murals commemorate the history of Oregon.

The amazing scenery along the Oregon portion of the Pacific Coast Highway is almost indescribable. Tunnels through mountains, shoulders that drop off to the Pacific below, roads that cut through hills, leaving oddly shaped pieces on either side. Then, there’s the magnificent port city of Astoria. Astoria was a must-see for me and my kids because I took them to the movie The Goonies when they were little, and it was a big hit for them. There is an informal Goonies tour of the various locations in Astoria used for filming, and the kids hit them all. It was great to hear their laughter and giggles. I could close my eyes and see them as little again, enjoying the Goonies’ adventures for the first time.

One of the small towns near Rockaway Beach is Garibaldi, a fishing village, which also has a history of wood milling. It has an interesting vibe about it, and it would make a wonderful setting for a story some time. I’ve taken some pictures as reminders and for later use.

I got an idea for Friday Fictioneers almost as soon as I saw today’s photo prompt. Finding quiet time (away from toddler grandkids, or, as I call them, The Hooligans) to write was another matter. Even now, I’m writing under the deadline of getting ready to go do some more touristy things (Tillamook Cheese Factory for one), but perhaps that’s just the impetus you need on vacation. It’s been almost a week since I’ve written a word, and I’m feeling the withdrawal.

That withdrawal brought forth “Judas Goats,” a little horror story for mid-July in the Pacific Northwest. If you don’t see the link on the story title, scroll to the top of this page, click on the Friday Fictioneers tab, then select the story from the drop-down list.

Unexpected Paths on Hiatus

No posts this week because I’ll be on vacation in the Pacific Northwest. There might be a Friday Fictioneers if I have internet access, but then again, I may just walk the beach.

Friday Fictioneers Fireworks

The thing with having a holiday fall in the middle of a week? I spent all day yesterday thinking it was Saturday. Since I thought it was Saturday, I was excited that vacation was only one day away. Reality crashed in when I sat down to watch the NASCAR race at Daytona and realized, nope, it’s Thursday. However, the good news is, I have more time to pack.

The vacation to the Pacific Northwest is mostly relaxation (even though I’ll be sharing a beach house with my kids and their kids) with a wedding thrown in, also in the middle of the week (the date is significant). The laptop will be along and although I won’t be working on the novel revision I’ve mentioned, I hope to work on some stories for Spy Flash 2. No wi-fi at the beach house, so my contact with the outside world may be limited, though I’ll stake out a coffee shop or two to spend some time in.

I also plan on walking on the beach, seeing some sights, walking on the beach, and, well, walking on the beach. There’s something about a beach and waves and sand beneath my feet that relaxes and soothes me.

When you see today’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt, note the body language of the two people on the right. That’s what inspired today’s flash fiction “Carpe Diem.” Unfortunately, it was a posture all too familiar, and whereas today’s story is not autobiographical, it is reminiscent. If you don’t see the link on the title above, scroll to the top of the page, click on the Friday Fictioneers tab, then select the story from the drop-down list.

Unexpected Paths will be on hiatus next week, and a new Friday Fictioneers post will depend on finding a wi-fi hot spot. Cross your fingers.