And, Action….

Tendrils of fog drift over Caer Lundein like gray wraiths… Smiling to herself at the thought, Ninyve gracefully side-stepped a pile of offal that had been left to rot in the narrow street. “Gray wraiths… how poetic of me,” she murmured.  A butcher, head down and hurrying to the warmth of his home, heard her voice and looked up.  Ninyve quirked her full lips in a little smile and the man gulped, his eyes widening.  But before he could speak to her, Ninyve shook her head almost imperceptibly and at once the man shifted his glance back to the ground and swiftly went his way.

Ugh; he stinks of mutton, Ninyve thought, wrinkling her slender nose.  One of my least favorite aromas, that. And it has such a tendency to linger in the air.

Ninyve was still thinking about the smell when she turned a corner and came upon a young man slumped disconsolantly against a crumbling stone wall.  Later – much later – she decided that something about him must have caught her eye, for she found herself abruptly halting to stare at him.   But she could never remember exactly what it was; her usually knife-sharp memory seemed to have been somehow dulled.

Still, it didn’t really not matter why Ninyve stopped; it was enough that she did.  The the gods’ great wheel of fate had been set in motion.

Tags: fantasy, historical fantasy, story starters

A Writing Prompt

Write less than 200 words about a color.  Pick something – an object, a feeling, a person, an animal – on which to focus.  Use a thesaurus for at least 5 alternate words for this color.  Have fun!

Here’s my piece:

Alert, still, the little black cat sits on the windowsill.  Golden afternoon sun slants onto her ebony-smooth fur, picking out an occasional silky strand of silver in the inky coat.  Delicately raising a sooty paw to the window, she bats at a bee that bumbles by outside.  The cat is suddenly alive with energy, quivering like a dusky thundercloud brimming with lightening.  Tensely, she follows the bee with her green eyes until it is lost in the lightless forest beyond the house.  Then, when it is gone, she tosses her small sable head, tipped by a nose dark as coal, and resumes her waiting pose.

Tags: creative writing, writing prompt

Writing Exercise

Start a story with the line “Looking at Paris in this light…”  Take no more than 10 minutes to write 300 words or less.  This is my beginning; I’d love to see yours.

             Looking at Paris in this light, Kate thought, could get a person in real trouble. 

She propped her elbows on the iron railing of the tenth-story balcony and sighed.  Paris was everything she’d always imagined it would be.  Every bit as romantic, too, and that was definitely a problem.  Determinedly pushing aside the persistent image of a tall, broad-shouldered young man with tousled auburn hair, she bit her lip.  What was she to do about Philip?  She certainly hadn’t expected someone like him to enter her life only two days into her long-awaited vacation to France.  He just didn’t fit in with her plans.

Kate stared out at the city, mesmerized by its beauty.  Buildings, fountains, sidewalks were all burnished by golden light from the late-afternoon sun, and aromas from neighborhood restaurants – frying garlic, pan-seared scallops, baking bread – wafted up to her nose.  Inhaling the enticing smells, she realized suddenly that she was hungry. Not surprising, really, since she’d spent the day poking into shops, visiting outdoor markets, ducking into thrillingly ancient cathedrals, and all she’d had to eat since the hard roll and coffee this morning was a piece of fruit and a wedge of cheese she’d purchased at a little grocery store.

“Time to scavenge for dinner,” she said out loud, turning away from the vista before her and opening the sliding glass door of her hotel room.  “And I refuse to think about Philip.  I will simply enjoy a good meal… all by myself in Paris!”

Sigh-Worthy Writing

I recently read two books by Susan Kearsley - Winter Sea and The Rose Garden.  The first novel involves “genetic memory” and features two romances, one set in the modern era and the other in pre-Jacobite Cornwall.  The Rose Garden is a Cornish-based time-travel fantasy.  Oh, I know some of you might wrinkle your nose in distaste at the  idea of yet another novel about time travel but if you like romance, history and gorgeous locations,  you really should give these books a chance.

After heaving a deep sigh for true love and strappingly handsome, tall-booted men to whom riding a spirited horse is second nature, I started thinking about why I enjoyed Kearsley’s books so much.  And, since my reasons are applicable to many books in the romance genre, I thought I’d share them with you.  OK?  Good; here goes.

Kearsley’s prose isn’t overly flowery and she doesn’t go into too much detail about her characters’ looks.  If I have a quibble with Diana Gabaldon’s wonderful Outlander novels it’s that I grow a wee bit tired of Jamie’s shimmering, golden-red hair.  It’s amazing how many ways an author can describe hair in different lights and circumstances.  Kearsley, on the other hand, seems to prefer giving a general description of the characters and then allowing her reader to mentally fill in the blanks.  I quite like this approach.  Here’s something else I appreciate: Kearsley shows us the passion building up between her couple, takes us with them into the bedroom to consummate said passion… and then closes the door to the reader until the next morning, when it’s made very apparent that it was a wonderful night and these two people are meant to be together.  This is not to say that there should never be a romantic sex scene in a novel –  it can be awfully fun – but I found Kearsley’s approach surprisingly satisfying.   Finally, the author  includes enough accurate historical information to make the plot interesting to a history-buff like me but doesn’t add so much that one feels expected to take an exam upon completion of the book.

Spot-on writing, Ms. Kearsley, and I hope you keep putting out these lovely, sigh-worthy novels.

Tags: good writing, romance novels, Writing

Will Write for Fun

There are plenty of reasons people like to write.  First of all, when one’s creative energy is sparking through one’s veins writing is fun – really, really fun.  Then there’s the fact that – sometimes – you can actually earn a little money with your writing.  Of course, it’s cool to casually say, “I’m a writer, you know.”  And, writing can be cathartic (I love that word).  Finally, being a writer  provides a good excuse for not cleaning up after dinner:  ”Gotta run, sweetie; I simply have to finish writing that last scene in chapter 10!”

Let’s go back to that first reason for writing – fun.  If you’re a person who has always struggled with the written word, then this concept makes no sense at all.  But if – like me – you started jotting down little poems and stories in elementary school (and they weren’t even a school assignment), and continued feeling driven to write through adulthood, then you get it.  For you, there’s something singularly satisfying about rounding up and corralling just the right words, whether it’s for a non-fiction magazine article, a poem, or a moment in a novel.

I particularly like the poetic form called Haiku, because the strict format  (first line, five syllables; second line, seven; third line, five syllables) forces the poet to express herself with just a few, choice words.  It’s much harder than it might sound; give it a try.

Keep on writing.

Tags: creative writing, why people write, Writing

To Text or Not to Text?

Yeah, yeah, I know; the subject of texting is less than exciting.  But I’ve decided to address it anyway.  So there!

Texting is one of those topics that get many adults all hot-under-the-collar.  They decry it as ending the fine art of communicating face-to-face, or even via the good ol’ telephone. And, they grumble, teenaged and twenty-somethings will develop permanent bowed necks from constantly texting away on their “smart” phones.  Said teenagers and young adults, naturally, argue that texting is convenient, easy, and fun. 

Frankly, I don’t see any point in moaning over a technology that’s probably a permanent aspect of our world; we may as well get used to it.  However, I do think it could be better controlled, and to that end, I’d like to propose a short list of texting do’s and don’ts:

- Parents, don’t give a cell phone with texting capability to a child under the age of about 15. A frighteningly high percentage of children use texting as a tool for bullying, and this is causing endless grief in elementary and middle schools (I know, I’m a teacher). If you feel your child has to have a cell phone, get one without the texting feature.

- Don’t text under the table while you are 1) having a meal with a friend or relative, or 2) you are at a movie theater, play, or any other type of performance.  At public performances the glow of your phone can bother sensitive people…. like me!

- Don’t leave the dinner table before the meal is over to text someone. Yes, I mean you, my son.

- Obviously, don’t EVER text while driving. EVER.  EVER.  Even if it’s not against the law in your (unenlightened) state.

- Don’t break up with your boy/girfriend via texting. That’s a very low-class, mean, rude thing to do.

Not too complicated, is it?  And now, please excuse me; I have to go text a friend….

Tags: cell phones, smart phones, texting, texting etiquette

Endings

Our family guinea pig, Willy, had been suffering from the ravages of old age and a tumor for a couple of months.  But until the past week he’d been eating pretty well and was fairly active.  Then the day came – last Thursday – that he would eat and drink nothing.  He just sat, unmoving.   Unable to bear his obvious suffering,  I took him to the vet, who agreed that euthanizing the little guy would be the kindest thing to do.  

After I’d signed the required papers and whispered,  ”Good-bye, little Willy,”  I found myself bursting into tears.  Both the vet assistant and the vet were all kindness and understanding, giving me the time I needed to compose myself and even bringing me bill so I wouldn’t have to expose my red eyes and nose to the folks in the waiting room. 

“Has anyone else ever cried over the death of a guinea pig?” I choked out at last, and the assistant said reassuringly, “Oh, of course, all the time.”

I wonder, though,  how many people really do get as emotional over a rodent’s passing as I did that evening.  I’ve decided the reason for my slightly over-the-top response is two-fold;  not only do I get awfully attached to pets, I also have a hard time with endings.  Friendships which end for reasons I don’t fully understand; the climax of the school year, with farewells to students and staff and knowing that next year will inevitably be different; moving from one place to another - having to leave familiar haunts and friends and start all over.  And, most heart-wrenching, putting to rest some of the hopes and dreams I’ve had both for myself and for others in my life.

A certain amount of grief  is normal and good and healthy when one has lost something or someone important.   But if you are unable to let go of  grief, stuffing it deep into your heart rather than confronting and dealing with it,  sadness and despair can overflow and poison your very soul.  

Based on  personal experience, here are a few recommendations for dealing with grief:   Talk to your closest friends on a regular basis about things that matter, both to them and to you.  Consider seeing a therapist.  Exercise (I’m terrible about this, but I  promise to be better… really).  Eat mostly-healthy food.  Cuddle with a pet.  Hug more.  Tell someone how great she is, and mean it.  If you can, volunteer.  Get out  and see something new.   Breathe deeply and think about  a place of contentment and peace.  Pay for a stranger’s coffee.  Thank a veteran for his or her service.  Love yourself.

How do you handle endings?

Tags: beginnings, endings, grief, pet, pet's death