Cindy Hurst's Blog
January 10, 2015
Stephen King and Natalie Goldberg
For anyone who loves to write, is looking for inspiration, or simply enjoys books about writers, I have three recommendations for you!
Natalie Goldberg has written two great books about writing – Writing Down the Bones and Wild Mind. These books are not your typical “how to write” books. Goldberg completely exposes herself to teach people how to free their inner writer. The books are filled with personal stories that she ties back to her craft. She even offers many great tips and exercises. I loved the books so much when I read them years ago that I attended one of her workshops in Taos, NM.
A third book I recommend is called On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, by Stephen King. Everybody loves the Master of Horror, but this shows us a different side to King. In the first half of the book he talks about his background, his family, his battles with addiction. In the second half, aspiring writers find their inspiration.
For me, these three books are effective and fascinating because they go far beyond the typical manual-style, mundane “how to write” books. They are entertaining. They dive into the dynamics of the human soul. They touch our nerves. They inspire us. If you love to write, but do not know where to start, or if you are simply looking for a little extra inspiration, pick up one, two or all three of these books. You’ll be glad you did!
Natalie Goldberg has written two great books about writing – Writing Down the Bones and Wild Mind. These books are not your typical “how to write” books. Goldberg completely exposes herself to teach people how to free their inner writer. The books are filled with personal stories that she ties back to her craft. She even offers many great tips and exercises. I loved the books so much when I read them years ago that I attended one of her workshops in Taos, NM.
A third book I recommend is called On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, by Stephen King. Everybody loves the Master of Horror, but this shows us a different side to King. In the first half of the book he talks about his background, his family, his battles with addiction. In the second half, aspiring writers find their inspiration.
For me, these three books are effective and fascinating because they go far beyond the typical manual-style, mundane “how to write” books. They are entertaining. They dive into the dynamics of the human soul. They touch our nerves. They inspire us. If you love to write, but do not know where to start, or if you are simply looking for a little extra inspiration, pick up one, two or all three of these books. You’ll be glad you did!
October 17, 2014
And When the Wall Came Down, They Failed to Celebrate!
In just over three weeks, people will be paying tribute to the 25th anniversary of the Fall of the Berlin Wall. I am looking forward to seeing what they do in Berlin. I remember seeing footage of people dancing on the Wall back then. Years later, while speaking to a dancer/choreograph (and now director) who was born and raised in East Berlin, I asked her if she was perhaps one of those people celebrating on top of the Wall. Her response was rather anticlimactic.
Beate, my contact, explained that on that very evening, she was attending a reception after a performance. In the midst of the event, everyone heard the announcement that the borders were opening up. These announcements were being broadcast over loudspeakers from the West. It was one method the West used to send information to citizens behind the Wall. People at the party stopped what they were doing and walked over to the window to try to hear and see what was going on. Observing a buildup of tanks in the streets, they concluded that the news could not possibly be true. Beate told me that she remembers feeling irritated that the West would play such a prank by sending “false announcements” over the loudspeaker. They simply ignored it, shut the windows, and continued on with their event.
After the reception, Beate returned home and went to bed. It wasn't until the following morning, after waking up, that she found out that the West had been telling the truth, and that she had missed the biggest party of all. :-)
Beate, my contact, explained that on that very evening, she was attending a reception after a performance. In the midst of the event, everyone heard the announcement that the borders were opening up. These announcements were being broadcast over loudspeakers from the West. It was one method the West used to send information to citizens behind the Wall. People at the party stopped what they were doing and walked over to the window to try to hear and see what was going on. Observing a buildup of tanks in the streets, they concluded that the news could not possibly be true. Beate told me that she remembers feeling irritated that the West would play such a prank by sending “false announcements” over the loudspeaker. They simply ignored it, shut the windows, and continued on with their event.
After the reception, Beate returned home and went to bed. It wasn't until the following morning, after waking up, that she found out that the West had been telling the truth, and that she had missed the biggest party of all. :-)
October 4, 2014
Two Days of Book Signing
Today the base exchange at Fort Leavenworth hosted a book signing for Berlin Dancer. A big hearty THANK YOU goes out to their manager, staff, and customers for top notch hospitality. The signing only lasted a couple of hours and, by the end, the store sold out of the book. I truly enjoyed meeting the customers and hearing their many stories! Berlin Dancer
September 29, 2014
East Germany: Who Could You Trust?
In the German Democratic Republic, it was difficult to know who you could trust. It was not uncommon for children to turn in their parents, teachers to turn in students, and friends to turn in one another.
In his book entitled Stasi: The Untold Story of the East German Secret Police, John O. Koehler writes, “To ensure that the people would become and remain submissive, East German communist leaders saturated their realm with more spies than had any other totalitarian government in recent history. The Soviet Union’s KGB employed about 480,000 full-time agents to oversee a nation of 280 million, which means there was one agent per 5,830 citizens. Using Wiesenthal’s figures for the Nazi Gestapo, there was one officer for 2,000 people. The ratio for the Stasi was one secret policeman per 166 East Germans. When the regular informers are added, these ratios become much higher: In the Stasi’s case, there would have been at least one spy watching every 66 citizens! When one adds in the estimated numbers of part-time snoops, the result is nothing short of monstrous: one informer per 6.5 citizens. It would not have been unreasonable to assume that at least one Stasi informer was present in any party of ten or twelve dinner guests.”
For this reason, the people of East Germany were extremely cautious in what they would divulge and to whom. You could never be too certain who might turn you in for an infraction as minor as having an antenna pointing toward the West so that you could pick up Western broadcast radio stations.
In his book entitled Stasi: The Untold Story of the East German Secret Police, John O. Koehler writes, “To ensure that the people would become and remain submissive, East German communist leaders saturated their realm with more spies than had any other totalitarian government in recent history. The Soviet Union’s KGB employed about 480,000 full-time agents to oversee a nation of 280 million, which means there was one agent per 5,830 citizens. Using Wiesenthal’s figures for the Nazi Gestapo, there was one officer for 2,000 people. The ratio for the Stasi was one secret policeman per 166 East Germans. When the regular informers are added, these ratios become much higher: In the Stasi’s case, there would have been at least one spy watching every 66 citizens! When one adds in the estimated numbers of part-time snoops, the result is nothing short of monstrous: one informer per 6.5 citizens. It would not have been unreasonable to assume that at least one Stasi informer was present in any party of ten or twelve dinner guests.”
For this reason, the people of East Germany were extremely cautious in what they would divulge and to whom. You could never be too certain who might turn you in for an infraction as minor as having an antenna pointing toward the West so that you could pick up Western broadcast radio stations.
September 17, 2014
Vom Westen! (From the West!)
After the Berlin Wall came up in 1961, many family members found themselves cut off from one another. In the East, some of the things we Westerners take for granted, such as chewing gum and chocolate, were hard to come by. Once in awhile, a family member from the West would send a package to his or her relatives in the East.
In the German Democratic Republic, there was a constant state of paranoia. People could never be too sure about who they could trust. There were informants everywhere. Without knowing what was in the package, it was best to open in private, which is what main character Andrea does, before any of her friends arrive for her small birthday celebration.
The following short excerpt from the novel, Berlin Dancer, offers a glimpse into what it was like for a ten-year-old to receive one of these packages. Andrea is getting ready to celebrate her 10th birthday when her father brings the package to her.
—–
Andrea’s eyes lit up. “Vom Westen!” she exclaimed. “This is the second time we’ve gotten a package from the West!” Medwin was Victoria’s little brother, who lived in Bavaria. While Andrea had never actually met him, she knew all about him from Victoria’s many anecdotes.
Andrea put her hands gently around the package and smelled it. “You can tell it came from the West by the way it looks and smells,” she said dreamily.
“Go ahead and open it before your friends arrive,” urged Hanna, who had walked up behind her.
Andrea carefully folded down the edges of the package and then reached inside. First, she pulled out several packages of chewing gum. “Kaugummi!” she cried out. “There’s enough here to share with the girls!” Also in the box she found chocolate, nail polish, a jar of peach preserves, a brush, several hair ties, and a doll dressed in a white tutu. “She’s beautiful!” Andrea gasped, hugging the doll.
In the German Democratic Republic, there was a constant state of paranoia. People could never be too sure about who they could trust. There were informants everywhere. Without knowing what was in the package, it was best to open in private, which is what main character Andrea does, before any of her friends arrive for her small birthday celebration.
The following short excerpt from the novel, Berlin Dancer, offers a glimpse into what it was like for a ten-year-old to receive one of these packages. Andrea is getting ready to celebrate her 10th birthday when her father brings the package to her.
—–
Andrea’s eyes lit up. “Vom Westen!” she exclaimed. “This is the second time we’ve gotten a package from the West!” Medwin was Victoria’s little brother, who lived in Bavaria. While Andrea had never actually met him, she knew all about him from Victoria’s many anecdotes.
Andrea put her hands gently around the package and smelled it. “You can tell it came from the West by the way it looks and smells,” she said dreamily.
“Go ahead and open it before your friends arrive,” urged Hanna, who had walked up behind her.
Andrea carefully folded down the edges of the package and then reached inside. First, she pulled out several packages of chewing gum. “Kaugummi!” she cried out. “There’s enough here to share with the girls!” Also in the box she found chocolate, nail polish, a jar of peach preserves, a brush, several hair ties, and a doll dressed in a white tutu. “She’s beautiful!” Andrea gasped, hugging the doll.
September 12, 2014
Escaping from the East
During a conversation with Beate Vollack, a dancer/choreographer (and now dance director... congratulations!) who was born and raised in East Berlin, I asked her about the different ways people tried to flee the East. Her response was, "If you can imagine it, somebody tried it." People were quite creative. Some examples include hijacking a train, using a hot air balloon, jumping the wall, and using escape tunnels.
If you visit Berlin today, you can actually tour some of these escape tunnels.
http://www.smartertravel.com/photo-ga...
If you visit Berlin today, you can actually tour some of these escape tunnels.
http://www.smartertravel.com/photo-ga...
September 6, 2014
Writing Cannot Be Forced
I took a creative writing class in college about three decades ago. I knew I wanted to be a writer and hoped that this would help me. The class was often frustrating. If anything, though, it taught me that great writing cannot be forced.
The teacher would often choose two or three stories to read out loud during class. He would read through them and then we would critique them. I was often impressed at how my fellow classmates would weave together their ideas, often tying symbolism into their stories.
One day, as I walked through a park, I suddenly felt inspired. I knew what my next story would be. I would write about an aging woman and somehow tie her character in with the changing seasons. As she grows older, the air grows colder and eventually the trees are barren and the woman is dead. It was brilliant. Poetic, visual, and profound! Who could resist it?!
I spent the weekend carefully crafting my story and the next time we met in class, I approached the teacher and asked him if he would read it. He did and when he finished, I braced myself for my classmates’ comments. The class grew silent and no one raised their hand. “Anyone?” the teacher asked.
Finally, one woman raised her hand and said stiffly, “It was boring, dry, and uninspiring.”
I was crushed. Did she not even appreciate the way I crafted my story to include great symbolic descriptions of the changing seasons? Unfortunately, everyone agreed, including me.
Nearly one month later I decided to write a much different kind of story. This time I wrote about a man who writes horror fiction. His main character, Jenny Freeman, was a twisted psychopathic nurse with flaming eyes and skin as white as snow. Jenny begins to appear to him in his dreams. In the end, he dreams that Jenny carves him up and hangs him from the ceiling. The next morning, they find his body hanging in his room, carved up. The story was in the style of Freddy Krueger before I had even heard of Freddy Krueger. The teacher read the story to the class. I sat back, smiling to myself as my classmates squirmed and gasped at the graphic content and outcome of the story. I’m afraid I went overboard this time, but at least no one could say it was “boring.”
In the first story, I was trying too hard to create something that just was not my style. While I was desperate to amaze my classmates, my heart was really not in the story. I had a much better time crafting the second story, although I will admit that horror is not my area either.
In my novel, Berlin Dancer, I fell in love my characters. I was fascinated by the history and intrigued with a culture that was so different from my own. I took my time writing and researching it. In fact, the story took on a life of its own each time I sat down to write. I never knew what would happen next. It was always a surprise. The reviews speak for themselves. The lesson for me is that the best writing cannot be forced. It has to come from the heart.
The teacher would often choose two or three stories to read out loud during class. He would read through them and then we would critique them. I was often impressed at how my fellow classmates would weave together their ideas, often tying symbolism into their stories.
One day, as I walked through a park, I suddenly felt inspired. I knew what my next story would be. I would write about an aging woman and somehow tie her character in with the changing seasons. As she grows older, the air grows colder and eventually the trees are barren and the woman is dead. It was brilliant. Poetic, visual, and profound! Who could resist it?!
I spent the weekend carefully crafting my story and the next time we met in class, I approached the teacher and asked him if he would read it. He did and when he finished, I braced myself for my classmates’ comments. The class grew silent and no one raised their hand. “Anyone?” the teacher asked.
Finally, one woman raised her hand and said stiffly, “It was boring, dry, and uninspiring.”
I was crushed. Did she not even appreciate the way I crafted my story to include great symbolic descriptions of the changing seasons? Unfortunately, everyone agreed, including me.
Nearly one month later I decided to write a much different kind of story. This time I wrote about a man who writes horror fiction. His main character, Jenny Freeman, was a twisted psychopathic nurse with flaming eyes and skin as white as snow. Jenny begins to appear to him in his dreams. In the end, he dreams that Jenny carves him up and hangs him from the ceiling. The next morning, they find his body hanging in his room, carved up. The story was in the style of Freddy Krueger before I had even heard of Freddy Krueger. The teacher read the story to the class. I sat back, smiling to myself as my classmates squirmed and gasped at the graphic content and outcome of the story. I’m afraid I went overboard this time, but at least no one could say it was “boring.”
In the first story, I was trying too hard to create something that just was not my style. While I was desperate to amaze my classmates, my heart was really not in the story. I had a much better time crafting the second story, although I will admit that horror is not my area either.
In my novel, Berlin Dancer, I fell in love my characters. I was fascinated by the history and intrigued with a culture that was so different from my own. I took my time writing and researching it. In fact, the story took on a life of its own each time I sat down to write. I never knew what would happen next. It was always a surprise. The reviews speak for themselves. The lesson for me is that the best writing cannot be forced. It has to come from the heart.
August 28, 2014
On Sale for a Short Time Only!
Only a few hours remaining before the price of Berlin Dancer (E-Book) goes back up. Currently it is selling for $3.35. Get it while it's hot. Available through Amazon or Barnes and Noble. Also available in paperback.
http://www.amazon.com/Berlin-Dancer-C...
http://www.amazon.com/Berlin-Dancer-C...
August 21, 2014
Little Andrea's Recurring Nightmare After the Tragedy
It was dark outside. The wind howled through the branches of the trees, tossing the leaves about violently. Andrea found herself standing alone in the street. Everything appeared massive – the buildings, the streets, the few parked cars around her. Suddenly she heard a bone-chilling scream. It was a familiar scream. She followed the piercing sound as it grew louder and louder, almost becoming deafening. Her body became paralyzed and her breathing labored. Before her she saw the image of her mother, hunched over on her knees. The woman looked up and saw Andrea. Her arms came up, reaching, reaching. But something held Andrea back. She struggled to free herself from the invisible force, but her struggles proved to be futile. Then, in the corner of her eye Andrea saw him, a faceless man, cloaked in black. He began marching toward her. He was floating, yet Andrea heard his footsteps grow louder and louder until the sound was too unbearable. Then, he reached out for her, and as he did she saw the image of a cat begin to emerge from the back of his hand. The cat turned into a lion with fire in its eyes. Andrea opened her mouth to scream but nothing would
come out.
“Andi, run!” echoed the haunting voice of her mother. It sounded like a thousand voices, trapped inside a chasm. “Andi, run or the lion will kill you!”
Andrea clamped her eyes shut…
Berlin Dancer
come out.
“Andi, run!” echoed the haunting voice of her mother. It sounded like a thousand voices, trapped inside a chasm. “Andi, run or the lion will kill you!”
Andrea clamped her eyes shut…
Berlin Dancer
August 9, 2014
Through Research You Can Write About Anything
Years ago, after I tried to set up an interview with a German scholar who was intimately familiar with East Berlin, he exclaimed in a thick German accent, "You cannot write about Berlin if you've never been there!" He turned and stomped off, leaving me feeling quite perplexed. It was like a stab in the gut.
Many years later I finally completed my novel, Berlin Dancer, and recently made it available for the world to see. While I have yet to make it to Berlin, the reviews and comments are proving this crusty old scholar wrong! How I would love to meet him today and tell him so. Great research is priceless! #Berlindancer
Many years later I finally completed my novel, Berlin Dancer, and recently made it available for the world to see. While I have yet to make it to Berlin, the reviews and comments are proving this crusty old scholar wrong! How I would love to meet him today and tell him so. Great research is priceless! #Berlindancer
