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.
Tuesday, November 23rd, 2010  “Oh, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,
that monthly changes in her circled orb –
Lest thy love prove likewise variable.”
Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet.
I learned this quote before I even knew who Shakespeare was. I found it in a scholastic book of superstitions that I’d purchased in grade school.
I read the quote, loved it, and committed it to memory, because even back then, I was fascinated by the moon.
There’s just something about that shiny spot in the sky that catches my fancy – so much so, that it lives in my writing, usually without any conscious effort on my part.
What lives in your writing? What fascinates you so much that it’s become a part of your writer’s tool kit?
Thursday, November 18th, 2010  Author Paul Evancoe spoke at at the Maryland Writer’s Association meeting last night. Paul’s a retired Navy SEAL with extensive combat experience as well as an former Director for Special Operations in the Office of the Coordinator for Counter-terrorism at the U.S. Department of State.
(Aren’t those awesome credentials? He’s also a very nice guy.)
Much of Paul’s SEAL experience is in Vietnam.
Sound familiar?
My character Cade Owen, Navy SEAL and Selkie aboard the aircraft carrier U.S.S. Livingstone, in Selk-Skin Deep, served his time in Vietnam, too.
Nothing was going to keep me from the meeting last night.
Paul talked about the Vietnam War, the Korean War, the rebuilding of our military after World War II, Communism, the Cold War, Terrorists… He drew maps on the white board, penciled in bombing missions, showed us how to guard territories, etc. I was fascinated by his descriptions of how the shores of Korea are guarded.
I recommend his books based solely on hearing him speak. I haven’t read anything by Paul, but if his books are anything like his presentation, I can guarantee they’re fabulous. If you like military or historical fiction…if you want to learn about Navy SEALS…check out his stuff.
(Of course, I had another moratorium #fail. I’m now the proud owner of “Own the Night.” It’s sitting right here beside me, tempting me to pick it up…)
We had little time to talk about Paul’s writing process. But he did mention two interesting things:
1) he writes his books like a Hollywood movie “treatment.” That is, he writes the entire story, beginning to end, in about 40 pages, roughing in chapter breaks, but hitting all the major scenes. Once this is done, he goes back to flesh it out. If I can make it through my current “pantsing” style novel, I might give it a try.
2) He talked about the “subliminal” plot in writing: while building your major plot and storyline, be cognizant of the underlying layer of relationships among the players which denotes a subliminal message or story. Every story should have one, he said. This bears looking into, I’m certain.
I couldn’t find any info on “subliminal plots in writing” via web search, no matter how I twisted the phrase. If you’ve got info on subliminal plots, please pass it along.
Tuesday, November 9th, 2010  A plotter is someone who makes some sort of an outline of their story before he or she sits down to write it. Sometimes this is an exhaustive document, sometimes it’s just a list of scenes or major plot points.
A “pantser” is someone who gets an idea and runs with it: no idea where he’s going, but eventually, he’ll get to the end of the story. (This is writing by the seat of the pants, hence the name.)
I’m a plotter…usually. I like to know where I’m going. It saves me tons of re-writes and I never get writer’s block.
I say “usually” because I’ve just started a novel which I’m pantsing. And it’s killing me. I can’t stand not having an outline. (I don’t know how you pantsers do it.)
The reason I’m pantsing it this time around is because I’m writing a story which is a bit outside of my comfort zone: a contemporary urban fantasy which takes place in Baltimore. I’ve got (what I think is) a fantastic idea…and I’m running with it.
What I need to do is let the idea percolate in my mind for a while before I start to write, but I’m too excited about it. I just want to get it all down on paper…but I don’t know where it’s going to end.
And that’s the problem: if I don’t know how it’s going to end, I can’t plot it out.
I’ve recently signed up for an on-line plot class to see if that could help. Unfortunately, lesson one included writing the beginning of the story (no problem!) and the end (um, problem). The class is designed to fill in the middle.
Well, I could do that on my own…
I’m toying with S. Andrew Swann’s method right now:
A four step exercise in Plot development:
1. Create a character.
2. Give this character a problem to deal with.
3. Imagine at least three different ways this particular character might possibly deal with this particular problem.
4. Pick one (or more) of these options, and imagine at least three different ways it a) wouldn’t work, and b) would make the character’s situation worse. (Short of killing off the protagonist and ending the story.)
It’s promising, and might help me out with lesson one of my online class. With some luck, I’ll have an outline by this weekend.
In the meantime, I’d love to hear from you. Once you get an idea for a story, how do you manage the plotting through to the end? What do you do if you’re not quite sure how it will end? What are some strategies or exercises you employ to form a cohesive story?
Here are some fantastic resources on plotting I’ve found while trying to hammer out my plot:
* The Butterfly Story Plot Graphic is from Scholastic. It appears it’s no longer available for download from their sight. (Alas.) If anyone has the pdf, I’d love to have a copy!
Monday, November 1st, 2010  It looks a little like Cindy Lou Who’s house around here tonight.
Intentionally.
The Husband of Awesome™ and I gave up our couch and loveseat a few weeks ago and have been sitting on lawn furniture ever since. Not the most comfortable arrangement.
But it had to be done.
I knew that if we didn’t get rid of the couches, it would be months — perhaps a year or more — before we actually shopped for replacements. Furniture shopping: not one of my favorite things.
By getting rid of the couches, we forced our own hands, so to speak. We had to go shopping immediately, or be resigned to sittting on lawn furniture for eternity.
But before there was lawn furniture, there was emptiness, and that space allowed us to consider all kinds of possibilities to fill it.
Inevitably, this got me to thinking about writing. (What doesn’t get me to think about writing?)
Is your writing stalled? Is there something just not working in your story?
What if you examine your work in progress for scenes which aren’t doing the best job they could be doing? Are your scenes advancing the story? Are they growing the tension? Even if they’re adding to the tale, are they written in such a way that they’re not killing the pace?
What would happen if you excised that scene entirely?
What could you fill the space with? Consider your options. If you remove a scene — or even an entire plot line — what kind of possibilities does that open up?
Wednesday, September 22nd, 2010 Inspired by Susan Adrian, who was herself inspired by Scott Tracey, I’m posting a little snippet of a story I wrote a while back.
It’s a “coming of age” tale of a unicorn and a young girl. I’d written it for a proprietary world anthology (hence the brackets around the generic city name), but the editors disbanded the idea of the anthology without going to print.
Here’s the beginning…
Süchender bent his long-maned head to the black, rich earth of the forest and dug a small trench with his horn. Boredom more than any purpose drove him to dig the hollow, yet he couldn’t help but enjoy the odor of the fresh-turned soil. Even in this harsh place, on the outskirts of [the evil city], small signs of beauty could be found.
And beauty is what he sought– his own.
At nearly three years of age he should have reached full-maturity. But his dappled coat belied that and prevented him from joining the others during the mating season in the fall. Large, dark birthmarks still peppered his dun-colored hide, the same as all immature unicorns. Only good deeds might erase his spots, brighten his dull gray coat to white, and allow his magic to emerge.
He turned his head and rubbed his sullied horn against a hoof-sized birthmark on his left shoulder. The dirt-stain lay hidden beneath the dark blemish, but the gray coat surrounding the spot now bore the filthy scruffs.
He huffed, letting out a weary sigh, and wondered not for the first time if there were anything he could do to demonstrate his worthiness.
Süchender resumed his digging, using his horn like a spade: stabbing the ground, turning his head to catch the soil in the conch-like twists of his horn, then flinging the dirt aside before stabbing again–until a round, black berry landed neatly in the soil beside his nose.
He froze, noticing a muddy pair of boot-clad feet and ankles standing within his view just across the small clearing.
Then he realized he couldn’t move at all.
Paralyzed by the lasso-berry’s magic, he had no choice but to keep his horn in the ground and his hooves firmly planted in the loamy soil. He cursed himself for a fool, so engrossed in his digging that he didn’t think to keep a watchful eye for danger. Accustomed to the protection of the herd, he hadn’t given it a passing thought.
He had no protection against this witch or her sorcery, but at least the pleasant smell of the fresh-turned soil covered most of her foul stench. Of course, if the scent of new earth had not masked the warning of her pungent odor, he would have discerned it long ago, and retreated.
Instead, he stood there, withers shaking, while she stalked around him, pacing counter-clockwise. Her broken fingernails scratched against his hide as her rough hand caressed down his flank and over his croup. She pulled his tail as she rounded him, and came to a stop in front of his nose.
If he owned magic enough to discern her virginity, her touch would have comforted him. But he hadn’t even power to detect that–though he knew she must be untouched. How else could the witch see him, let alone capture him? No animal-mage had the power to feign virginity.
This close, he could smell the fullness of her witchy musk. Perhaps if she bathed once in a while, her smell might not be quite so offensive. He sneezed as she moved closer, her odor irritating.
“I have you now,” she said, bending to retrieve her berry.
She touched it to his forelock, directly above his horn, and muttered a spell. His muscles thawed, and he raised his head, shaking it about to remove the stiffness.
She was young, he noticed. No warts. Perhaps she was out to earn her first one.
Friday, September 17th, 2010  I spent some time at the dermatologist’s office today.
While I waited for my turn, I read my latest acquired book about writing and scribbled some notes.
After a while, a woman came out of the doctor’s office wearing a Dallas Cowboys football jersey, and hoots erupted around the waiting room.
This is Raven’s country, though there was a single Redskin’s fan and one lone “L.A. Rams” holdout – an older gentleman – in the waiting room, who stated that he was born and raised in L.A. County, but had been transplanted to Maryland some time ago.
There was a round of forgiveness once the woman spoke in a soft, Texas accent, about rooting for her home team.
After she left, the hum in the waiting room quieted, and I returned to my book. But a few moments later, a gentleman seated two seats away, turned to me and said, “You’re sure giving that book what for.”
I demurred, and explained that I was just taking a few notes. I showed him the book at his request, and then he’d asked me if I’d ever written anything. (That’s when I pulled out my handy-dandy bookmark listing some of the stuff I’ve published and handed it to him.) He told me he’d written a book, but just as quickly told me it had never been published. When I asked him why, he said:
“The war got in the way.”
And that’s when the conversation got really interesting.
He told me that when he was asked what kind of job he could do, he told his commanding officer that he drove trucks. So his CO made him a truck driver…of ammo trucks. That didn’t suit him at all, he said. (So, matter of fact, this far removed from the war!) And he’d tried to get away from doing it as fast as he could. His lucky break came when the chaplain’s assistant died (got blown up stepping on a landmine while hunting for deer) and he got to be the chaplain’s assistant.
What an awesome story! If I hadn’t needed to get to work, I would have stayed and talked after my appointment. What a life. I hope he’s written this down for his grandchildren.
Here’s Your Prompt: Strike up a conversation with a stranger in a public place. (Repeating: in a public place.) Make it a good public place… not the post office (unless there are huge lines) or some other location where you’ll only meet people in passing. Choose somewhere where you’ll have time to pass a few moments. Ask a leading (polite) question, or compliment someone…anything to start the conversation. And then…listen.
If you’re lucky, you’ll meet as great a person as I did. (If not, you can always try again.)
Once you’ve chatted, take that conversation home and write about it. Fictionalize it, journal it, or write a biographical sketch.
Thursday, September 16th, 2010
A photo of “me,” and the view from the bow of the boat.
I was away for the weekend, but hadn’t planned to be away from working. I’ve got tons of editing to do.
I’d arrived around dinner time on Friday, booted up the laptop and checked mail and comments on my blog, and showed off a few photos to some folks. After a while, my laptop chirped and the little power light started blinking, and I knew it was time to plug in. Except…
…after digging around frantically in the huge laptop bag I carry, I realized I had left the power cord at home.
At first, I was horrified, but by Saturday morning, I felt totally liberated: I had plans, and I needn’t hurry back to get any work done. I couldn’t get any work done.
(Needless to say, I lingered on the water as long as I was able.)
Now, I’m raring to go. Sometimes a little break is all that’s needed.
Monday, September 13th, 2010 
Drollerie Press just announced the cover of their upcoming anthology, “Hellebore and Rue.” Isn’t it gorgeous? I love the eye-catching color of the woman’s hair on the stark black, white and gray background.
The anthology is due out in mid-October…and I’ve got a story in it!
(And, look! My name’s on the cover!)
My story, Sky Lit Bargains, is about a woman who is forced to leave her home or face the repeated, escalating sexual advances of her new brother-in-law. Trained for warfare, rather than domesticity, Sigrid crosses the channel to her Uncle Gervais’ keep and makes a bargain with him to kill the wyvern plaguing his lands. Her plans go awry when she’s followed by her best friend (and sorceress) and her brother-in-law’s guards…
I’ll post an excerpt once I get a go-ahead from Drollerie.
Here’s the Table of Contents (TOC):
“Counterbalance” by Ruth Sorrell
“Trouble Arrived” by C.B. Calsing
“Personal Demons” by Jean Marie Ward
“The Windskimmer” by Connie Wilkins
“Sky Lit Bargains” by Kelly A. Harmon
“Gloam” by Quinn Smythwood
“Witches Have Cats” by Juliet Kemp
“D is for Delicious” by Steve Berman
“And Out of the Strong Came Forth Sweetness” by Lisa Nohealani Morton
“Bridges and Lullabies” by Rrain Prior
“Thin Spun” by Sunny Moraine
“A State of Panic” by Rachel Green
Read more about Hellebore and Rue.
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