I don't know why this cranky old broad appeals to me so, but she always makes me smile. Here's one to kick off Halloween week.
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Meanderings that cover Texas travels, romance romps, writing wisdom, and fabulous females -- all shared from a Southern gal's prospective!
SIDEWALK ART . . . WHAT'S REAL AND WHAT'S NOT!
Snapshot!
Observations are the basis for a good writer.
Exercising those senses is necessary to be a great writer.
As mentioned before, I substitute teach. Exclusively at the elementary level -- I'm no dummy. If I'm running the asylum, I want to make sure I'm the biggest inmate in the group. Size does matter when teaching.
This week, I reverted to 3rd grade. Amazing how I always learn something new, something I'm positive I didn't learn the first time. Science is one of those subjects, being a total left-brainer, that is more difficult for me. It's all practical facts, while I live in the world of make-believe. However, after my day with 9-year-olds, I believe I've found the correlation.
The science lesson for the day consisted of MATTER. Yep, MATTER. Okay, I'll be the first to admit I didn't remember the technical definition. For those of you wanting to be 'Smarter' than your kids, MATTER is anything that takes up space. Anything that takes up space. That's all you need to be able to answer, and even Charlie Gibson can't blow you out of the water. Now, for the writing definition. MATTER is anything that takes up space . . . on page. Not much more complicated, but it takes on a completely different spin when considering that any word that hits the page of a work in progress is MATTER. The question becomes: does it matter what your MATTER is?
Oh, so much.
It's easy to fill space with useless secondary characters or scenes that are fun to read but don't advance the plot or build internal conflict. It's much more difficult to cull through the verbose and strike out the useless. MATTER can't be allowed to run rampant on a writer's page. Anything that takes up space -- is not always and generally isn't -- usefully writing.
So don't let MATTER control the writing page. Anything is not better; selection is crucial to the writer.
The next science lesson was about VOLUME. Again, for the masses, volume is HOW much space something takes up. Think 3-D. Glass, bowl, frying pan -- I'm cooking dinner and it shows. But the concept works in anything. Pouring oil into the frying pan, if poured to the top would allow for computation of volume. It can be done if the frying pan is only half full, but honestly the conversation process makes me crazy so stick with a full pan. The oil or liquid is contained in the pan, just like writing is contained on the page, characters in a scene, hooks at chapter's end. The oil takes the shape of whatever object it's subjected to, just as writing must take the shape of the scenes.
Occasionally, however, the oil spills on the floor, running free and wild and taking the shape of the floor. MESS! and completely out of control. Writing can suffer the same fate by spreading and spilling across the lines. Characters need to develop in a specific order -- I didn't say predictable -- in order to be believable. If the race car driver suddenly refuses to get behind the wheel of his own personal car, then the oil has spilled and the character's shape is dissipating across the page. Is it possible to reign that VOLUME back into confines? Certainly, through motivation. But without reasonable explanation, a writer has simply blurred the character into a non-recognizable form (that means unbelievable) and the reader will feel cheated.
Personally, I like the odd shaped container, but considering how much I detest cleaning, I don't believe in spilling the oil. The same rule applies with VOLUME in writing. Keep the edges of character development always in mind, meaning know where the character starts and where they should end. Keep scenes clean; have a definite goal for the scene. Start it and stop it when that goal is accomplished.
The final science lesson for the day concerned density: cool formula to really impress, p = mass/volume
See, I told you it was impressive. However, I found it a little confusing which is why I loved this diagram.
What's this mean?
Note the identical size (hence volume) of both cubes. Now, note the difference in amount of red balls in the two cubes. Consider that the balls are all the same size (mass), and the forumla begins to make sense.
Is the cube on the left (one with more balls or mass) more dense than the cube on the right? Of course it is.
Density works exactly the same in writing and the pay-off is just as great. It isn't more MATTER that a writer needs, or even more VOLUME, but more DENSITY. More bang for the buck. Better word choices. Stronger verbs. More vibrant characters.
Literally, DENSITY to a writer means packing the most mass (the best writing) into each sentence and pleasing the reader at the end.
This concludes the science lesson for the day.
Almost.
Remember -- the simple definitions for MATTER, VOLUME, and DENSITY. 1st because it will impress the fire out of the kids. 2nd, you might be chosen for 'Are you smarter than . . .?' and you really will be. 3rd and most importantly for the writer is the ability to pack great words together, tightly, concisely and offer a satisfying ending to the reader.
See, and you thought you were bad in science.
Drop by the porch again.
Until then,
~Sandra
Memory was something you lost with age
An application was for employment
A program was a TV show
A cursor used profanity
A keyboard was a piano
A web was a spider's home
A virus was the flu
A CD was a bank account
A hard drive was a long trip on the road
A mouse pad was where a mouse lived
And if you had a 3 inch floppy...
You just hoped nobody ever found out!?!
A PIECE OF HEAVEN by Barbara Samuel-- a redemption story for older love, set in beautiful New Mexico, dripping with actual problems that real-life characters managed to solve.
THE LONER by Geralyn Dawson-- another in Ms. Dawson's 'Good Luck Groom' series. Her hero Logan Grey is the most unlikely groom I've ever met, which makes it simply delicious when Caroline Kilpatrick reels him in. There's a kid, an old codger and loads of Texas on these pages.
THE OTHER WOMAN by Candace Schuler-- this is an old Harlequin Temptation that I've tucked away on my shelf. I've read it several times and love going back to it because it's the Alpha male character who is felled by the love of a woman he never expected to deserve.
TORCH SONG by Lee Magner-- another oldie but goldie for me, this one is from the CandleLight, Ecstasy Supreme line. These are ones you either have or don't. No more reprints of these babies. Again, the total Alpha male. But during this publishing era, artists were still allowed as focal characters. Today, we'd term this book squarely in the Romantic Suspense genre. Fun to read those that started the trend, without evening knowing there would be a trend.
HEAVEN IN YOUR EYES by Judi McCoyMs. McCoy was a former critique partner of mine -- thanks Judi for nagging about all those 'thats' that (uh-oh) snuck into my writing. Ms. McCoy writes whimsy and HEA with the best of them. HEAVEN IN YOUR EYES deals with angels as they oversee the lives we so often 'screw' up. Gotta love those that are routing for us, without ever being seen.
CLAIMING THE COURTESAN by Anna Campbell-- when Ms. Campbell was nominated for the coveted Romance Writer's of America, RITA award, I knew this book deserved a second reading. Verity and Kylemore are two characters who should never have a chance at love, everything conspires against them. Yet, Ms. Campbell twines their complicated emotions around one another just as a vine clings to and grows with a massive tree. It becomes impossible to separate the two, and while society will never understand their choice for love, it is inevitable or irrevocable. Yep, it works for me.
THE NANNY DIARIES by Emma McLaughlin & Nicola Kraus-- I loved falling into the world of the nanny, and learning to hate the rich who have kids and then let others raise them. As this 'hand-the-kid-off' philosophy goes against everything I've pursued as a parent for the past two decades, it was easy for me to boo for these vain parents, and cheer for the nanny. That said, I wanted this nanny to stand up for herself. I understood that her choices were limited where 'their' child was concerned, but not once -- even in the end -- did she hold these adults accountable to HER. Perhaps, that is the characteristics of nannies, to be subservient to others, but her choices left me completely unsatisfied.
GRASS by Sheri S. Tepper-- WOW! is the start of how I felt about completing this book. This read is not for the faint of 'reading-heart'. GRASS is a complicated science fiction read. Don't expect to understand everything in the first 50 or even 100 pages. This book requires effort on the part of the reader, but the payoff for those willing to put in the time is tremendous. Excerpts from this book reminded me of Ayn Rand's writing. Terrific symbolism and layered characters -- some of who are not redeemed, and that's perfectly acceptable in the course of the book. There is a poignant conversation between one of the main characters and God. The revelation that his 'very small beings' are not expected to understand everything He's done or even His whys is beautiful written and made a lasting impression. GRASS was published in 1990, so it may be difficult to find. However, the book is worth the effort.
*MAKE PEOPLE NOTICE*
This week's letter is E:
1) evidence -- my latest romantic suspense deals with lawyers and 'political' backroom deals gone awry. Evidence is essential for my heroine to undercover the 'real' villains.
2) exhilarate -- what I feel when writing.
3) enthrall -- I've been writing love scenes and hope my characters are totally enthralling or charming each other at this point in the book.
4) exercise -- what I feel guilty about NOT doing.
5) energetic -- what I'd feel if did more of word #4.
6) eviscerate -- just used this in writing yesterday, means to take away something vital. Is that a strong word or what?
7) eerie -- love the concept, can never spell the word without spell check.
8) entertained -- what I hope my writing accomplishes.
9) enthusiastic -- what I'll feel when I bang out the last 60 pages of my work-in-progress (WIP).
10) edgy -- what I want my suspense books to contain.
Watching the radar is a frightening pasttime right now.
Storms seem larger, more fierce than before, but perhaps that's only my older eyes watching that swirl and determined path of the present hurricane.
When I was a child, my family lived in Houston. During the summer of 1964, Tropical Storm Abby hit the area. Tropical storms pack sustained winds from 39 to 73 miles per hour. That is the 'constant' range; gusts can exceed these numbers. The power behind these storms can sweep a person from their feet and certainly awe or terrify a child. Even young, these memories have stuck through the years as though attached with the permanence of superglue.
Our small three-bedroom, sided-house displayed front and rear plate-glass windows that were in direct viewing line of one another. As these windows were our observation platforms to every happening on Crooked Creek Street, I'm certain my mother seldom found the glass clear of child-sized finger prints and smudges. As the storm approached and the radio crackled with constant weather updates, my father retrieved rolls of masking tape from his never-empty, and constantly-fascinating tool box. With careful precision, he laid racing stripes of beige tape across the glass as though marking the spot with a large 'buried treasure' X. As Tropical Storm Abby neared landfall, my brother and I were constant voyeurs to a world gone mad beyond the panes. Massively tall oak trees stood sentinel in our side and back yard. The trees were so numerous, grass was sparce beneath the constant cover of multi-colored leaves. The sky darkened bit by bit until everything seemed gray. The winds built and the trees danced back and forth across the dim sky. Sheets of rain blew in, sometimes straight and flooding against the street, sometimes sideways as though simply passing through and on its way to another town. Gusts kicked up and snatched any trashcan, yard tool, or poorly attached shingle. It looked cartoon-like to us as the debris hurried down the street on its way to some unseen destination. Wind intensity increased and tree limbs snapped, some entire trees groaned then fell, power lines gave way, and transformers sparked and lit with Christmas-tree glow, and the entity of our house went dark. Our ooh-ahhs turned to squeals then screams as the sound of the storm roared through our neighborhood. Flashlights clicked on and my parents dispensed all the needed hugs and reassurances then we waited. Safe in my mom's embrace, the power of the storm seemed to fade. I don't remember closing my eyes or nodding off to sleep, but suddenly it was morning and the sunlight was back.
What happened the next day? Did we have a lot of damage? Glass broken, limbs down? I, honestly, don't remember. It is the roar of Tropical Storm Abby that stays with me so many years later.
Your turn.
Share your storm memory. Hurricanes (or Tropical Storms) not required. Any storm memory that lives with you is welcome.
To all those I know in the path of the lion -- know that you are in my prayers. Be safe.
Do drop by the porch anytime. I always have the sweetened tea ready to pour.
Until then
~Sandra
FAMILY:
My 50-something friend Nancy and I decided to introduce her mother to the magic of the Internet. Our first move was to access the popular 'Ask Jeeves' site, and we told her it would answer any question she had. Nancy's mother was very skeptical until Nancy said, "It's true, Mom. Think of something to ask it." As I sat with my fingers poised over the keyboard, Nancy's mother thought for a minutes, then responded, "How is Aunt Helen feeling?"
OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES:
On the way back from a Cub Scouts meeting, my grandson asked my son the question. "Dad, I know that babies come from mommies' tummies, but how do they get there in the first place?" he asked innocently.
After my son hemmed and hawed for a while, my grandson finally spoke up in disgust." You don't have to make something up, Dad. It's okay if you don't know the answer.
MORE CHILDREN:
We rushed our four-year-old son, Ben, to the emergency room with a terrible cough, high fever, and vomiting. The doctor did an exam, then asked Ben what bothered him the most. After thinking it over, Ben said hoarsely, "I would have to say my little sister."
THE TRUTH:
I am feet feet three inches tall and pleasingly plump. After I had a minor accident, my mother accompanied me to the emergency room. The triage nurse asked for my height and weight, and I blurted out, "Five-foot-eight and 125 pounds.
"Sweetheart," my mother gently chided, "this is not the Internet."
HUSBANDS:
For some reason, the bookstore clerk couldn't get the computer to recognize my preferred customer card. Peering over her shoulder at the screen, I said, "There's part of the problem. It shows my birth date as 12/31/1899.
"That's right," my husband chimed in. "She was born in June, not December."
CAN YOU SAY SWELTERING?
HERE IN TEXAS WE CAN!
WHAT DO WE DO WHEN TEMPERATURES SOAR OVER 100 FOR TWENTY STRAIGHT DAYS?
but . . .
When outside fails us, then we look for cool indoor sports:
Bottom line to managing triple digits in Texas is to stay cool and wish for winter:
Drop by anytime -- just don't look for me on the porch -- it's too blessed hot!
Until next time,
~Sandra
THIS SIGN IS LOCATED OFF ONE OF THE MAJOR FREEWAYS IN DALLAS, TEXAS.
THINK ANYONE GETS IT?
ENJOY YOUR DAY!
I PLAN TO!
UNTIL LATER
~SANDRA
However, here are a few traveling tips that hit while on vacation:
Where have you been this summer? Do share.
A Texas Titan and legend has left the great state of Texas for the last time. H. Ross Perot, age 89, passed away Tuesday, July 9th, 2019. ...