Friday, December 31st, 2010  I hurt my finger.
Baking Christmas cookies.
I kid you not.
I bake a lot of cookies, dozens of cookies, a gross of dozens of cookies each year for gifts and to put out for Christmas dinner.
I make biscotti and pizzelles using my Italian grandmother’s recipes. These recipes call for kneading the cookie dough, and in the case of the pizzelles, squeezing hard knots of the mixture between wooden-handled irons over the flame of the stove.
(These are not the sissy, liquid pour-and-bake that you buy in the store, or that many folks resort to making because they can’t find the old-fashioned irons.)
I literally wore out my hands kneading the dough. It was so bad by the end, that I couldn’t squeeze out a sponge to wash down the counter tops.
It’s getting better now that I’m wearing a splint, which I’ll likely sport for a few days more. It’s been incredibly enlightening to see how such a minor injury has affected the activities I do daily: signing my name, brushing my teeth, typing.
And strangely, this one injury has beget another: a blister has formed on the pad of my middle finger. From what? I know not. Perhaps the minor rubbing upon it as I still try to do things with this splint (like knit!).
Here’s Your Prompt: Injure your character. Make it as minor as a finger splint or as major as the loss of a limb. See how it affects the plot of your story. What things can your character still do? What things are out of the question?
(Believe it or not, I’m typing with this splint. It’s slow, and I can’t feel the keys I touch with it, but it’s working…)
Do personal research: pretend you’re injured. Put nails in your shoe to make yourself limp. Put a popsicle stick on your finger and pretend it’s broken. Try walking without using your leg. What kind of frustrations do you experience? What thoughts do you have? Attribute these to the character in your story.
If you’re journaling, instead of writing fiction: describe a time when you were injured. What happened? What did you hear? Feel? Think? Was it an accident, or did someone injure you deliberately? What did you feel afterward? What are you still feeling about the injury?
Friday, December 24th, 2010 
I think I’ve already mentioned that I have a thing for the moon.
There’s something mysterious about it that never fails to captivate me. I take time to gaze at the moon nearly every day.
The recent Solstice Eclipse, therefore, was something I was not going to miss. The Husband of Awesome™ set the 2:30 a.m. alarm and out into the cold we went.
This photo, as I’ve mentioned on Facebook, is my inexpert attempt at capturing the event.
So, in honor of the moon, here are some moon-related writing prompts….snippets of poetry and sentence starters…not the detailed suggestions I usually offer.
I’d love to read what you come up with….feel free to post in the comments or send me something via email.
Here are the Prompts:
- “It’s a marvelous night for a moondance…” (Van Morrison lyrics)
- A walk on a monlit path…
- Write about being moonstruck.
- What counsel has the hooded moon… (James Joyce)
- “Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars…” (1954, written by Bart Howard)
- Write about an eclipse.
- The purity of the unclouded moon has flung its atrowy shaft upon the floor… (William Butler Yeats)
- Write about a honeymoon.
- Each night, as the moon rises…
- It’s only a paper moon sailing over a cardboard sea…” (Arlen, Harburg and Rose)
- Write about the cycles of the moon.
- “Everyone’s gone to the moon…” (Johnathan King, 1969)
- Write about the Harvest moon.
- Tubas in the moonlight, playing for me all night, Tell me what I want to hear. (Bonzo Dog Band, 1968)
- And finally, here’s a short list of “moon” words to spark your writing:
honeymoon
moonbeam, moonbow, mooncalf, mooned, moonflower, moonless, moonlight, moonlike, moon maiden, moonrise, moonscape, moonseeds, moonset, moonshines, moonstone, moonwalk, moonward, moonworts, moony
Friday, December 17th, 2010  “Write what you know” is probably the most hackneyed phrase spoken in writing classes.
Some people think the statement is way off base. How can you write a futuristic science fiction tale if you’ve never flown in a rocket?
I think these people are taking the statement too literally. Or perhaps teachers aren’t explaining it well enough.
I think you can take practically anything you know, and it apply it to any genre. And, I think writing what you know is also the easiest way to make your words seem completely realistic to the reader.
I have a personal example:
I was nine when my grandfather died.
He and I were close, even in the last years of his life, when, jailed by his broken body, he sat confined in a wheel chair. The numerous surgeries that reduced him to this half-life also removed his ability to speak. He communicated with pencil and paper: jagged scribbles made by a stroke-palsied hand, punctuated with slashed underlines when he couldn’t make himself understood.
His sudden death surprised me.
I’m sure the adults saw it coming, but I hadn’t been privy to those hushed and furtive conversations about Grandpop’s condition.
It rained the day of his funeral, making the church gloomy with darkened, stained-glass windows. Cloying incense filled the church, the funeral rites seemed interminable, and the priest droned on.
I remember standing on the steps of the church afterward, waiting for the coffin to be loaded into the hearse. The moment the pall bearers pushed the coffin outside the double doors, the clouds broke and a sunbeam burst through. I had a sudden feeling that Grandpop was finally at peace.
So, what do I know? And how can I apply that to my writing?
- The antiseptic smell of a hospital, the quiet discussion of visitors, the squeak of a nurse’s shoe on tile set the scene for a horror story.
- So too does the odor I remember: the gauze-wrapped wounds, the paper tape, iodine or some other chemical…and the decay of a body still living.
- The hospital-room machinery seemed space-age through the eyes of a child. As an adult I can write about the digital displays, the symphony of beep and whine and hum of the collected devices, and the intent of the machinery in a science fiction tale. I can extrapolate what I remember into futuristic appliances — decision making robots, even — which not only perform a dedicated task but make decisions about the patient’s care.
- I’ve used portions of my grandfather’s graveside service for a funeral in one of my fantasy stories. The weather alone sets the scene: a sunny internment preceded by pouring rain and a single ray of sun.
- Finally: in any genre, I can use the emotions. To my nine-year-old self, my relationship to my grandfather was nothing out of the ordinary. I accepted his disabilities because it was, for the most part, the only way I’d known him. Though I missed him, I even accepted his death as the next stage of his life.
On the other hand, I remember my grandmother’s tremendous grief, her stoic bravery in public and her weeping in private. I remember her saying that she could not live without my grandfather, and realizing that a large part of her spirit did, in fact, die with him.
I remember witnessing the numbness of others in the family.
Any of these emotions can be attributed to the characters in my stories, either singly or as a composite.
Here’s Your Prompt: Dissect your life. Choose a memory that stands out as the most exciting, or most monumental, or even, most sorrowful. Journal your memory. What do you remember seeing or hearing? Did it take place inside or outside? What was the weather like? While you’re writing, include details and imagery from all five senses (seeing, hearing, tasting, touching, smelling).
When you’re finished, review what you’ve written as a basis for a story. What details can be extrapolated or built upon and used in a different scenario or setting? What were you feeling at the time that could be attributed to a character? Can you use anything in a story you’re writing now?
Friday, December 10th, 2010  I collect dolls. The more unusual, the better. I have several mundane and beautiful specimens, but the unusual ones are the ones I like the best.
Sometimes, it’s a defect that attracts me. For instance, I have a Geordie LaForge (Star Trek) action figure with two left hands. (I’m still wondering how that got off the assembly line.)
Or it’s the rarity: I have a tiny little boy doll made in 1960s Italy which is anatomically correct.
I absolutely love my Living Dead Dolls: Sinister Minster and Bad Habit. Toddler dolls, dressed as a priest and a nun, laying in a coffin. They come with their own death certificates. This I find clever, and I like clever very, very much.
Like it or not, we all collect….and our collections reflect something about us. It provides useful information to the people who know us.
For instance, I also have a collection of Matryoshka dolls, sometimes called babushkas: Russian nesting dolls. The collection started when I inherited several from a great aunt who brought them over from the Ukraine. The mass produced ones you can buy these days are horrible — so generic — but hers have genuine character. Collecting them rules my actions:
I scour estate sales and yard sales. I search for them on Ebay. I put them on my Christmas list.
Some people collect unconsciously. Others have collections thrust upon them. Some people display them prominently, some people hide their collections away like dirty little obsessions.
Here’s Your Prompt: Develop a character for a short story or novel (or use one you currently have) and give him a collection. Show us: is it something he or she decided to collect, or did he or she inherit (or simply receive) it in some fashion? How does the character house that collection? Is it displayed prominently? Is it well-kept? Perhaps items are simply acquired and tossed in a drawer.
Next, take a moment to explain how the collection defines your character. What does it tell about him or her? What does how your character’s care of the collection tell you about him?
Friday, December 3rd, 2010  This is a great photo, captured during the 11/27/2010 NHL game between the Blackhawks and the Kings. I love hockey….always a good fight.
Have you heard this really old joke?
“Last night I went to a fight, and a hockey game broke out.”
It never gets old.
Let’s talk about fight scenes.
A fight scene should be exciting, fast-paced, and pack an emotional punch. You need to put the reader into the middle of the scene and enable him to feel each landed blow. You’ve got to be descriptive enough to paint the picture for the reader, but not so descriptive that you slow down the scene.
And you’ve got to accomplish this without falling into the trap of describing punch for punch, kick for kick and finger-poke for hair pull.
So how do you do it?
Keep the scene in the point of view of the main character. Describe things through his eyes. Show that your character is engaged in the fight, but is also aware of his surroundings.
What follows is an example from one of my works-in-progress.
In this scene, Karis and his priestess companions are ambushed by a group of sentient, demon-hounds called ahventhí . Out of context, the description of Karis’s two last arrows sounds clunky, but it’s important for the rest of the story to note that he has none left. Still, I think you get the idea here:
The ahventhí charged the women.
Karis jerked in their direction and launched the first of his last two arrows. It misfired, gut string scraping across his wrist. A discordant twang of the bowstring echoed in the clearing and the arrow careened sharply right into the darkness.
Karis took better aim with his last arrow. It struck the cur in the spine, and the great beast rolled to a halt, gasping and choking, paralyzed.
The remaining ahventhí, a large grey creature with white battle scars crossing its snout, leaped at Karis. Using the bow as a shield, he clouted the attacking beast and sidestepped, forcing it aside as he drew his sword.
Note the use of a brief sentence to get the scene started: “The ahventhí charged the woman.” This clipped rhythm is used elsewhere to keep the momentum: “It misfired, …”, “It struck the cur in the spine…” This continues as Karis dispatches the final beast with his sword.
Together, these brief snippets seem like the choreographed movements of a dance: They did this, the arrow did that, Karis did this…” which is exactly what we don’t want to write. But here, these clipped, mechanical statements are temporized with brief description.
Also, strong action verbs are substituted for weak ones: charged, attacked, launched, clouted, paralyzed.
What’s missing is how Karis is feeling. We can get to that as the scene is wrapped up:
He fell to his knee at the foot of the dead beast, wiped a hand across his brow and reset his headband. Lungs heaving, heart pumping, he bent and wiped his blade on the creature’s coarse fur, sheathed it, and recovered his bow.
Karis stood on shaking legs, paused a moment to catch his breath, then bolted in the direction he saw the women flee.
Even later we get to Karis’ thoughts: when he has time to recall the fight, examine what happened, figure out how he got ambushed. This could happen as he’s searching for the fleeing women, or even later in the chapter as a reflection.
Here’s Your Prompt: Your turn! Write a fight scene. It can be men fighting men, or women fighting women (or a combination there of) or, as above, man or woman against beast. Keep it simple this time and limit the players to two or three at most.
Use tight sentences, action verbs and keep the description to a minimum.
Post your scenes in the comments below. I’d love to see what you’ve written.
Photo Notes: Chicago Blackhawks defenseman John Scott, left, and Los Angeles Kings right wing Kevin Westgarth fight during the second period of an NHL hockey game, Saturday, Nov. 27, 2010, in Los Angeles. AP Photo/Mark J. Terrill
Friday, November 26th, 2010 Good Morning!
You’ve opened the newspaper today to see your picture splashed across the front page with the headline,” ___________________.”
What does it say?
Is the picture only of you? Or, is there someone with you? If so, who is it?
What did you do?
Here’s Your Prompt: Write the news story about you. Make it exciting.
Write the story in journalistic style, referred to as “inverted pyramid.”
In inverted pyramid writing, the most important facts are made known in the first paragraph, and detail gets less and less important as the story progresses. (This is so that if the newspaper runs out of room, they can cut off the bottom of the story without having to re-edit.)
So, in the first paragraph, answer the questions: who, what, where, and when?
Don’t “editorialize” this lead paragraph, that is: don’t make your opinion known. You don’t want to slant the story! Include only the facts.
You can add a quote or two in this first section. Make sure these quotes pertain directly to the story: perhaps an eyewitness account or two of what happened. What did those people see?
The questions “How?” and “Why?” can be answered in the middle of the story. They will add additional detail.
Sprinkle in a few quotes with the extra detail here, too. These quotes can be opinions. What do people think about what happened?
Make certain that you have quotes from differing points of view: some from people who agree with the story, some from people who don’t. (This is called “fair and balanced” reporting.)
One last thing, journalistic stories are measured in column inches and contain 20-30 words. Your assignment: write 20 inches.
When you’re done, send it to me! I’d love to read about you.
Friday, November 19th, 2010  You’re dreading it: your review with your boss, a conversation with a best friend, or a conference with your teacher about your grades.
If you’re like me, you amplify those situations in your mind…giving voice and thoughts and mannerisms to your opponent, deciding what they will say, and how you will respond, building and building the encounter until it’s blown out of proportion…
This happened to me just last week. (And it was so anticlimactic when I got my way right out the starting gate and didn’t need to list all the reasons why I needed to do a certain something or use all the arguments against what I thought were going to be the obstacles in my way…)
Sigh. And I was so raring to go.
You’ve had moments like that, right?
Well, don’t let these thoughts go to waste! They make excellent fodder for writing.
Here’s Your Prompt: Think of a situation in which you have to confront someone and 1) ask for something you’re certain you’re not going to get, or 2) tell someone something you really don’t want to say because it will make them __________ (angry, sad, jealous, etc. You fill in the blank).
If you can’t think of a real-life situation, make one up.
Step 1: Just write the dialogue. How do you start off? Do you come right to the point and ask for something, or do you build up to the pitch? Do you try to be tactful and save someone’s hurt feelings? Or, do you give it to them straight knowing you’re going to get blasted with anger, but at least it will be over with quickly? Write from the beginning all the way to the last word of the conversation or argument.
Step 2: Go back to the beginning and 1) set the scene, and 2) add the action. Are you standing or sitting? Perhaps only one of you is standing. Who screams her words? Who cries and wrings his hands? Is it day or night, outside or inside, close to a holiday or an important (to you or your opponent) event?
Step 3: Once more, go to the beginning and start adding little details to give the scene some flavor: who’s wearing a red sweater and black loafers? Who’s long hair gets in the way? What kind of dog barked? Can you hear the sound of rain, a horn blowing, or a voice singing off key in the distance?
Finally: consider how this scene could be included in a story. Is it one of many arguments that two people have during the course of a novel? If so, think of other things these two can argue about, how could you build the plot around the theme of the argument/conversation? Or, could this be the culminating point of a short story? The highpoint? What events could have led up to this “blowout”? How could it be wrapped up?
Friday, November 12th, 2010  Happy Birthday, Elizabeth Cady Stanton! She was born on November 12, 1815, and is often cited as initiating the first organized Women’s Rights Movement in the United States.
What’s special about Ms. Stanton is that she wanted more for women beyond the right to vote. Her concerns included women’s parental and custody rights, property rights, employment and income rights, divorce laws, the economic health of the family, and birth control.
Stanton’s outspokenness on many of these issues caused a split in the Women’s Rights Movement, especially after she and Susan B. Anthony declined to support the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Amendments. (The 14th broadened the definition of citizenship to include former slaves and the 15th provided the right to vote).
Her opposition was not a manifestation of racism, but of fairness. Despite their passage, the 14th and 15th Amendments did not give women (black, white or other) the right to vote.
Twenty years passed before the two groups were united again under the Presidency of Stanton. She fought for women’s rights her entire life, and died October 26, 1902 – nearly twenty years before women were granted the right to vote.
Here’s Your Prompt: Create a world in which there is inequality to a specific group of people and how rights are restored to all. (It’s too easy to make this schism based on race, religion or gender, so be more creative and try for something different. )
Pay more attention to the reasons why one group of people sees another group as a threat of some sort. Think about how people react to those who are different and incorporate these incidents into the theme. Who are the suffragettes in this instance? Are those looking out for the rights of others from the “normal” group or the “different” group? Or are they from both? Keep in mind this shouldn’t be a story celebrating the differences but one about the struggle to understand and embrace differences as well as to alleviate any injustices manifesting from them.
In other words, don’t write me a heart-warming story about “people with differences” with a little politics on the side… I want the story to be about the struggle.
Friday, November 5th, 2010  Have I told you I’m a genealogist? I am.
I absolutely love digging up dirt on all my relatives–the dead ones, anyway. (Who doesn’t love gossip, especially family gossip? Sadly, I think this tendency contributed to my wasted career in journalism…)
When I do my research, I want to know my ancestor’s stories more than I care about names and dates. Those things are important, of course, but I’d rather hear how someone did in school than know the dates they attended. It’s people’s actions and exploits which make them interesting.
My great-grandpa, for example, spent time in Leavenworth (a prison so infamous, I didn’t have to say “Leavenworth Penitentiary,” eh?).
He ran moonshine.
He was alerted when the revenuers were in the area and warned not to speak to them. But when the men in suits knocked on the front door, he offered to sell them some white lightning.
And then they took him away.
Here’s Your Prompt: Create a character using tales from your family history. If nothing seems “big” enough (surely, there must be at least one interesting character in your family…?) then combine the exploits of two or more to make composite. If you don’t know any stories, dig through some family papers that might be stashed somewhere. Call up an older relative who might have something to share. Go to your local library (or use a service on line) to find some archives of newspapers from the area of where your family is from. Try Google.
If all else fails: borrow someone else’s family history. There’s plenty enough to share.
Friday, October 29th, 2010  I grew up in a haunted house.
I know this because I saw the ghost many times. I’m not crazy – his existence has been collaborated by visitors who’ve seen him, too.
Legend has it that the house was a former monastery, moved from another location in Baltimore to its present location. The ghost was a man, dressed in what I remember as monk’s robes, and when visible, he always appeared to be searching for something.
I make the distinction of his being visible, because there are many times we heard the ghost, but didn’t see him. While walking down the basement stairs, you could hear his footfalls behind you, as well as the creaking of the old staircase. You could also hear his footsteps on the kitchen floor.
On rare occasions, you could feel his presence – not the Hollywood version of dropping temperatures and frosty breath – just the simple impression that you weren’t alone in the room.
He never spoke, but we got the impression he listened. So, we often spoke to him. It grew to be a comfortable relationship.
Here’s Your Prompt: It’s too easy for me to tell you to write just any ghost story. So…write your own ghost story. Who would you haunt? Where would you haunt? How did you die? Don’t be glib: I don’t want to read about you coming back to haunt your worst boss or your ex-boyfriend. Give it some thought. My monkish ghost is always searching for something…I imagine a crucifix of some sort. It’s important to him, and he can’t rest until he finds it. Why would you be haunting a place? What job have you left undone? What job do you need to do before you can move on?
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Writers - Maryland Writer's Assn.
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