NOVEL TRAVELERS.....

NOVEL TRAVELERS.....: John Grisham and Mary Mahoney's

2012-02-01T13:08:00.000-06:00

NOVEL TRAVELERS.....: John Grisham and Mary Mahoney's

John Grisham and Mary Mahoney's

2012-02-01T12:51:00.001-06:00

I love discovering connections between authors and historical places when I travel. I travled to Biloxi, Mississippi last weekend where I happened onto a fine dining restaurant called Mary Mahoney's Old French House. I took a few photos on the outside then wandered in the place for a bite of lunch. The small stone bar was empty and the bartender was eager to serve, as it was the middle of the day and the lunch crowd had long gone. For me, it's rarely about the food or beverages, it's about what one finds when you get off the beaten track and rummage a bit around these old cities. It passes times and gives me the area's "sense of place," something all writers end up using at one time or another.
It was odd, but something here triggered a memory. A city. Bioloxi. A name. Mahoney's. A book. The Runaway Jury. I tapped my fork on the bar top and got the attention of the waitress.
"Was this the restaurant featured in John Grisham's book, The Runaway Jury?" I asked.
"Yup," she replied, and The Confession as well! Joh comes in here all of the time. Sits right where you are sometimes."

Then I remembered the passage from a Grisham's book....

"He turned left and was soon entering a large, old white building that houses Mary Mahoney's, a locally famous restuarant where most of the town's legal community usually gathered for lunch when court was in session.
Nicholas enetered the restaurant and asked the first waitress he saw if Judge Harkin was eating. Yes. And where might he be? She pointed and Nicholas walked quickly through the bar, through a small foyer and into a large dining room with windows and sunshine and lots of fresh flowers."

And here I was, munching on a bowl of Mary Mahoney's famous gumbo, and sipping a sweet tea on a chair where a fellow writer soaked in the atmosphere of a building almost as old as the country itself.

I jotted down a few observations and walked through the old place, taking the same route as Grisham described, to the large dining room befit with large greenhouse-like windows and white table's bedecked with sweet smelling flowers.

Nothing like discovering truth in fiction. For those readers who love a good "sense of place,finding a "real" place that's been used in fiction is like finding buried treasure. Gold, all around. Imagine what heaven will be like?

Any place from a book you've ever found to be real? Share it with us, won't you?

New York, New York!

2012-01-27T08:35:00.000-06:00

Last week, I finished a long work day on Friday, and boarded a red-eye flight for Newark, NJ. Now why, you might ask, did I do something like that? I know, it's like going from a slum to a ghetto, but it was not without purpose. Being a 1K (100,000) mile flier, you'd think I'd had the best seat on the plane. Continental saw differently. I was given the "little people" treatment.You've all been there. Back of the plane where I swear they put eight seats across the back not the regular six. My seatmates were three little Asian women squished into the two seats next to me and they giggled the entire way to New Jersey.

After arriving into New Jersey at 6:15am, I had a car pick me up for the drive to Manhattan. Of course, I hadn't checked the weather, and no surprise,found myself slepping through ankle deep slush and snow to the awaiting car. The driver was an old man in a big Town Car that evidently had bald tires. For the next hour we careened down the highway barely able to stay on the pavement for most of the ride. All of that doing less miles per hour than I can walk to the mailbox.

I arrived at the hotel in one piece. It was near 8 o'clock. The Writer's Digest Conference I'd decided to attend at the last minute was to start around 9am. True to my luck as of late, my room was no where near ready, and I was relegated to take a shower in the tiny "health club" in the basement of the high rise. So here I am, trying my darndest to make myself presentable in the dingy basement of a sweat-smelling gym whose "amenities" included a well used bar of soap, complete with the long dark hairs of a stranger, and a one watt bulb in which to see my shadow as I tried to apply makeup.

I sat through three decent classes before the 3 hour "pitch" session, whereby all of the 600 wanna-be-best-selling writers stood in line just to have a chance to share an abridged version of their manuscript with an agent, editor or publisher. There were about 60 agents, etc. in attendance, so you can see what a chaotic event it was. Four rooms, 60 agents, 600 writers. Do the math. We stood outside the four rooms with a list of the agents we hoped would request our manuscripts. At exactly two p.m., the doors opened and we all ran toward the first ahent we hoped to see like cattle drive with each of scouring the room as we ran, ent on our list. Sort of looked like a The cost, a whopping almost $400 for the day, proved to be money well spent. Out of eight agent visits, all eight agents asked for more of the manuscript, a good showing for any writer!

With that said, I send my kudos to The Writers Digest Conference, and all of the agents who sat at those tables throughout those grueling three hours. A special shout-out to Rachel Dugas from Talcott Notch Literary Agency. That young woman kept the biggest smile on her face and every writer who left her booth felt like a million bucks!

A thorn goes to the writer who shouted at an agent that "It's not fair! You said you took children's stories! I waited in line for over 25 minutes!" The agent, whom I will not name, tried to explain she looks for children's series (more than one book.) The writer stormed off leaving that poor agent a little soured, but who could blame her? A lesson to new writers....be polite, no matter what. You don't have the knowledge base to do anything but listen.

And finally, to all of the writers in attendance....Wow! Way to go! You and I are living our dream! Now get out there, polish those manuscripts and get them off to the agents that requested your stuff!

We are all Novel Travelers

2012-01-17T15:51:00.000-06:00

This has been an interesting week so far. After my full-time job is done, I've been polishing up my book, gathering up my courage and setting out for yet another adventure! I'll be on the road for work this week, Vegas, no less. Sin city, as if I didn't have enough of my own sin to worry about. I picked up the book by a Pulitzer Prize winner,Larry McMurtry, called The Desert Rose,written in 1983. The main character Harmony is both tough and tender as an ageing Las Vegas showgirl. Here's a cut from the book.

"When she turned off the pavement onto the bumpy dirt road Harmony looked back at the Strip, eight miles away. It looked so miniature, like a wonderful toy place, with all the lights still on … It was one of her favourite things, to turn onto her own road with the air smelling so good and be able to see the Strip, with the Trop up at one end and the Sahara at the other, and besides that have the sun coming up just as she got home. With sights like that to see every day, who could complain?"

Trying to follow a novel I'm reading is turning into quite a good time. On airplanes, I have a ton of time to read. I mark up my books, circling locations and street names, restaurants and tourist attractions and then when I arrive, if I have any time, I try to find them. It makes for interesting travel. Now you see why the name change on the blog.

Writers are are odd as the characters they create. Think about it. You know you've always wanted to go to Laura Ingall's, little house on the prairie. Because some writer created an image that eventually made it from the written page to the silver screen, you visualized along with the writer what they had in mind as the book was written. The writer gave enough of a description that you could see, smell, feel, and hear the house. That's the beauty of what a writer does.

So off I go! I'll be looking for places and streets that McMurtry made come alive. Should make for a more interesting journey, don't you think?

How about you, have you ever tried to see if a place or person in a novel existed? Share that with us, won't you?

I Wanna Go Home!!!!!

2012-01-13T15:27:00.000-06:00

This week is the week I'd normally be at the Wilkes Writing Program residency. For the past 3 years I've made my pilgrimage to Pennsylvania to mingle with some of the nation's most caring and congenial authors, playwrites, screenplay writers and poets.

Now for those of you who have not been to Wilkes-Barre/Scranton area, (and that doesn't count those who watch "The Office,") Wilkes-Barre is the epitome of Pennsylvania's "Rust Belt." It lacks any true beauty or viable downtown, although it does play host to unsavory buildings and characters, great fodder for those who love the arts.

Every day I would walk, rain, snow, or shine the mile to school leaving the warm arms of the not-so-posh Best Western Genetti Inn to the campus. Rounding the first corner of the brick-lined sidewalk, I'd beeline pass the men and women who hung out at the Quick-Mart smoking cigarettes and begging for cash. At the next corner I'd brush pass what passes as the "theatre," often having to kick away trash and cigar butts that had twirled into the concave entrance during the night. Across the street the circular park filled with the homeless who found there way to a bench during the night, their wakings startling passersby.

I stopped at Dunkin Donuts for a bagel, then crossed the street for my morning java at the Barnes and Noble bookstore, often the stage for many readings during the week of residency. I always bought a book, not able to leave without knowing I'd somehow contributed to someone's climb to fame. A quick pass through at the alley past Boskov's, a clothing store that demanded my attention at least once a day while in Wilkes-Barre, then a dart through the parking lot to the old building that had been converted to the YMCA and I was just a block away.

The campus of Wilkes University gives off a historical air, one I grew to love, but it was inside those walls where other writers, poets, screenplay writers and playwrites gathered that gladdened me to my soul. I had a cohort whose talent still amazes me and whose recent successes have made me proud. Gail Martin, known to me as "Gray," recently published her wonderful humorous novel, "Don Juan in Hankey, PA," a hilarious romp through the world of a small town opera guild. And others I worked beside, like Amye Archer did us proud with her publication. More to come on other alumni!

What Wilkes does have is an extraordinary gathering of artists from around the nation that gather to give of themselves to wannabe artists like me. Sara Pritchard, my mentor was one of them. She encouraged me as a writer, lifted my spirits when I thought I could never do what she asked of me, and made me laugh at myself.

So today I'm feeling a bit blue knowing that another group of talented people have arrived, and taken our places. I'm here missing all of the interactions that had become such a part of my life. It always felt like home there! Smells and shady characters and litter and all!

Writers are funny like that! We are souls that do our best work alone, but no greater group have I ever met that loved the social aspects of sharing others work! I want to go home:)

2012...A New Year...A New Start...A New Blog Name!

2012-01-10T09:03:00.001-06:00

It’s a New Year and a new time in my life. Old things have passed away and I am more than ready to let last year go! With that said, I wanted a new name for my website. Coming up with a new website name is tricky. Everyone has an inspiration that leads them to the right name. For some it’s so easy, for others it’s a process they’d rather forget. Here’s how it went for me.

“Honey, I’d like to change my web address to something different than my name, simple. Got any ideas?”
“What’s wrong with your name?” my husband remarks, his hand perched on his bare chest, his body in a steep recline on the Lazy Boy.
“Well, for one thing, no one can spell it.”
“I can spell it.”
“Well then, you’ll be the only person visiting, if you don’t count my family members.”
“That’s about fifty people, all tolled, and that’s not bad,” he says, the left side of his mouth curling into a snarl.
“You’re a big help.”
“Then how about “Where writers wander or where books roam or book traveler or bitty books or travel logger?” His chin points slightly at the cup of coffee on the table beside him, my signal to get it for him.
“Too long. Besides they don’t make sense.” I put the coffee in his hand and plop onto the couch. “Bitty books? Where’d you come up with that?”
“Aw, you wanted something short.”
“Short, but not stupid,” I say, wondering why on earth I’d ever ask for help.
“Then get out your synonym book and look up some words. Maybe you’ll find something there. Try travel or journey.” He puts the mug to his mouth and talks a long drink, the steam rising around his face like a halo.
“Yeah, but I want it to be about writing. Oh, and traveling. Oh, and I want it to be different, and easy to remember. Not too long. Easy to spell. Short, so I can get it on a business card.” I tap my fingers on my knees in thought.
“Not asking for much, are you?” he says, his eyes rolling back into his balding head.
“That’s a novel approach,” I say, mocking him by doing the same thing, my eyes orbiting in disgust.
“Novel!” he screams, jumping from the Lazy Boy. I haven’t seen him move this fast since he retired. “Novel! Isn’t that something writers might understand?” He’s repeating the word over and over. I don’t know if I’m more overcome by the fact that he’s trying so hard to help me or by my amazement of how a grown man can lounge an entire day away in his underwear.
“Honey, that’s good!” I say, not knowing where this is going yet.
“And you travel all the time, right?” By now he’s pacing like a madman, his big hands wiping over his mouth like he’s just sucked the meat off the last leg of a chicken.
“Yes.” I’m still sitting, watching this spectacle unfold. His briefs are riding low on his thin hips, the scars of his double hip replacement acting like arrows to his thighs.
He stops. His hands drop to his side, palms up. It’s the sign of a man with a whole thought.
“I’ve got it!” A smile creases into his face. It’s a beautiful face even after all of these years. “www.noveltravelers.com. It’s simple, it takes in the fact that you travel everywhere and people love to read and then travel to the places they read about to see if they are real, right? And any author, writer, editor, publisher of any repute will understand the “novel” part, right?”
I feel the tingle go up my spine, the feeling I get when something feels right.
“Honey, you’re right! Besides, “novel” can mean something unique, something out of the ordinary, something fresh as well. Good job! Now go put some pants on, will you?”

So that’s how I got the new name for the site. Hope you find it easy to find and to pass on to your friends!

And really? Get that picture out of your mind of my husband in his briefs, will you?

I'm back!!!!

2011-06-22T15:55:00.000-05:00

Just a quick note to let you know that the paper part of school is now complete! Graduation will be held on September 11 and for the first time, I'll walk with cap and gown. I'm excited, but have found the moments I'm not working have been quickly filled with things I've so long had to neglect to get through this.

The last few months have been more difficult than I can explain, but thanks to those whose prayers I felt, even when they didn't know what they were praying for. It's a new day now and I'm headed in a direction I never knew I'd be headed to do things I never knew I could do!
I've already started the process of agent hunting. It's the next step in this very long process.I haven't written a lick since January, but am writing down observations
again, which for me is the beginning of a story.

With that said, look for blog posts again....I'll be in touch.

Spring Abounds Everywhere Even in Politics

2011-04-15T16:09:00.000-05:00

Well I'm shaking off the pain and stress of a ugly winter. My final semester for school is just days away and I'm almost giddy in expectation of finishing. Changes are everywhere around me, inside and out. This past few months have driven me to my knees repeatedly and as always, God has never failed to lift me up and send people into my life to pray with me and send words of support.

Spring is flashing signs it has arrived everywhere, from the heads of the flowers that are poking through the soil to the sky to the blossoming bellies of so many women I pass in the airports. This always makes me give pause to the newness of this season and how God has created Spring to give us hope. It's a time of repentance and forgiveness and great joy!

Not to bring you down but its also the time when the politicians descend upon Iowa like we were sugar and they were bees. Iowa stands out in the nation as being the first to attract these odd balls. Then again, Iowa is a state filled with contrasts. We have the leaning left, the dozing right, the hacks, the wanna-be's and the down right, never been out of towners who all think they know what is best for the nation. I'm truly ready to move! But sadly this next week, Iowa will host the "Atheists" Conference which deeply saddens me.

For a state with opinions on just about everything, there is no outcry for the Lord. We have become so easily swayed by being political correct that God's truth has been lost. Funny how the devil never needs to hide sin. He just cloaks it in political correctness.

The Wicked by Ernest Larson

The wicked prosper, so they say.
As for being good, that doesn't pay.
It's said the wicked have more fun.
The good stay home when day is done.
Well, now, I doubt this is trus.
The wicked have their troubled too.
The daily paper tells me so.
I buy it so that I will know.
I read the paper page by page,
to learn what sin is all the rage.
and what evil destroys and kills
that fills that world with all its ills.
This about evil cand be said:
it causes newspapers to be read.

What God says:
Psalm 21:9

..."The Lord will swallow them up in his wrath, and his fire will consume them."

Need A Good Cowboy

2011-03-31T12:48:00.000-05:00

Just a quick update. Thougth about John Wayne the other day, his larger than life attitude, his swagger, the way he smiled out of the side of his mouth. Made me think he could take on the world at any given moment and never failed. Not bad for a man whose mother had named him Marion!

As you can see I've been conspicuously absent from the blog and probably will be until I get my internship overwith in May. Then I'll be back on track, so watch for me! In the meantime, I'm busily wrapping up my project, travelling and trying to get through my days, (which have been brutal, I might add.) Thanks for all of the prayers I've been receiving. I feel their power. And trust that I know God has not abandoned me:)

Hang in there with me and somebody.....if you see a good cowboy out there that can take on the world the way John Wayne once did without ever failing....will you tell him to call?

War and Rumors of War

2011-03-01T10:55:00.000-06:00

I read USA Today on the airlplane as I returned from my weekend trip to Florida. The front page showed the faces of Egyptians and Libyans in turmoil and pain. The stock market gave grim news. Gas prices shot up seventeen cents while I was gone. In Mississippi, a court is deciding whether or not to issue a license plate in honor of a former KKK leader. Drug cartels are killing hundreds of people daily in Mexico. Labor Unions in Wisconsin are wreaking havoc while two police officers were killed in Florida just a week after two of their buddies were shot down in cold blood.

But in one small corner of life I heard about a twelve-year-old boy who donated his five-dollar allowance to Kyle Busch, NASCAR race driver, because he heard Kyle didn't have enough money to keep his truck team going in 2011. To some this might seem silly, but amidst all of the talk of war and rumors of wars this young man, Kyle Savoie, concentrated on something so simple that it drove away the thoughts that pound at us everyday. He thought of giving to someone else. A good thought to drive away bad things, isn't it?

THE COST OF A MIRACLE by Ruth Haven

Tess was a precocious eight year old when she heard her Mom and Dad talking about her little brother, Andrew. All she knew was that he was very sick and they were completely out of money. They were moving to an apartment complex next month because Daddy didn't have the money for the doctor's bills and our house. Only a very costly surgery could save him now and it was looking like there was no-one to loan them the money.

She heard Daddy say to her Mother with whispered desperation, "Only a miracle can save him now."
Tess went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet. She poured all the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times, even. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes. Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out of the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door.

She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention but he was too busy at this moment.

Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster.

No good. Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter. That did it! "And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. "I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages," he said without waiting for a reply to his question. "Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone. "He's really, really sick.. and I want to buy a miracle.

"I beg your pardon?" said the pharmacist.

"His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a miracle cost?"

"We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry but I can't help you," the pharmacist said, softening a little.

"Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs."

The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and asked the little girl, "What kind of a miracle does your brother need?"

"I don't know," Tess replied with her eyes welling up. "I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money".

"How much do you have?" asked the man from Chicago.

"One dollar and eleven cents," Tess answered barely audibly. "And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to.

"Well, what a coincidence," smiled the man. "A dollar and eleven cents--the exact price of a miracle for little brothers." He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said "Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the kind of miracle you need."

That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in neuro-surgery. The operation was completed without charge and it wasn't long until Andrew was home again and doing well.

Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place. "That surgery," her Mom whispered. "was a real miracle.

I wonder how much it would have cost?"

Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost.. one dollar and eleven cents ...... plus the faith of a little child.

What God Says:

Matthew 24:6
"You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come.

When is Love Real?

2011-02-14T23:18:00.000-06:00

USA Today recently posted results for its online survey of 1,000 people that showed how easy it flirt, meet people and follow up with new dates on social media sites. Results showed more than a third (34%) of respondents believed it's possible to have a romantic relationship on the internet, especially men (41% versus 28% of women). It went on to talk about how the internet makes it easier to meet or break up with new partners as well as start an innappropriate relationship the way the married, former Congressman Chris Lee did when he shipped off a shirtless photo of himself and a flirty message to a woman he met on a dating site on craigslist.

Makes one wonder if there is any need to meet anyone in person any more. Can you tell if you love someone online? Is it the thrill of the hunt without contact? Or the fact that you might not want the pain that sometimes comes with love. Whatever the reason for utilizing social media to meet your "dream" partner, remember this Valentine's Day, nothing beats real contact with a real love that can span the test of time. Happy Valentine's Day!

Enjoy this classic sonnet by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight.
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, --I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! -- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

What GOD says about true love....

John 3:16..."For GOD so loved the world that HE gave HIS only begotten SON that whosoever believeth in HIM, should not perish but have everlasting life."

Now THAT's true love!

Book Clubs

2011-02-10T23:11:00.000-06:00

I read a wonderful article today about book clubs that are popping up like daffadils all over the country. These seemingly small groups of six to twenty people get together out of love for the written word. It's a social club filled with wonderful people who appreciate quality writing and good stories. It made me think of the Des Moines Book Club which consisted of several women who graciously read the first draft of my manuscript.

Just like the article in The Oregonian, (I'm in Portland, OR), the women of the Des Moines Book Club were brutally honest in their reading, which not only gave me a better sense of my story but made me totally rewrite parts of the book so the reader might better understand what was rolling around in my head. Lesson well learned.

So to book clubs across America, thank you for your honesty. Writers need it. Thank you for the generosity of your time as you make us better writers.

Here's a short tribute to those of you in book clubs whose importance cannot be denied.

Surprise
by Beverly McLoughland

The biggest
Surprise
On the library shelf
is when you suddenly
Find yourself
Inside a book-
(the HIDDEN you)
You wonder how
The author knew.

What God says:
Psalm 139:4 "Before a word is on my tongue you, LORD, know it completely."

Internship with Etruscan Press

2011-02-08T09:15:00.000-06:00

For the next few months I will be an intern with Etruscan Press in an effort to finish up my MFA. Although this will again limit my time to blog, trust me, I will still be here. For now, I am asking for prayer. Fervent prayer. The kind that pulls God's amazing power to earth and shatters whatever the Devil is trying to do in and around me. Pray specifically that his will be done in everything I am aiming for and remember, I am praying for you too!

I love the people I will be working with at Etruscan. The work will be challenging but I swear it couldn't be worse than what I have just come through! Hang in there!

World War III?

2011-01-21T20:59:00.008-06:00

A Catholic School in Bacup, England called a school assembly at the primary school and announced that London was being bombed and that World War III had begun. Herding the children to a school cellar amid air raid sirens and fireworks to emulate the sounds of bombs, the teachers sought to simulate explosions as part of a realistic lesson on what life was like during World War II.

What the instructors had not planned on was the terror the "lesson" had on the children, some of them having nightmares for several nights after the exercise and others not wanting to return to school fearful that what the teachers had told them was true.

Seems common sense is rare now-a-days, isn't it? Here's a short story written by a man whose name I only know as "kitosdad."

WAR IS HELL

My position had been carefully chosen after hours of painstaking selection. From here I couldn't be seen. My camouflage was perfect.
My face was blackened and streaked with green and with a handful of the soft dirt that surrounded my position.
My long-range snipers rifle was similarly blackened and wrapped with the same grass in which I lay comfortably concealed.
I blended naturally into the thick grass on the crest of a hill that afforded me a wide vista of the terrain that lay before me.

Here I had lain for hours in No Man's Land; that area between the two advancing armies.
I idly wondered how many lives would be lost over the battle for this worthless piece of scrub-land.
Land on which shepherds had grazed their flocks for centuries, now a prized possession to both countries.
How many sons would never be returning home to their families after this skirmish?
How many wives and children would be without a husband and father, alone and lost, left to struggle for their very existence.

I shook my head to clear these unwelcome visions.
I'd a job to do, and I had to do it well.
There could be no time allocated for maudlin thoughts to cloud my judgement which was just as well, because I'd just sighted the first of the advancing scouts.
He moved quickly and deftly, using every inch of cover he could find.
My orders were to let the first three pass unharmed.
My colleague, suitably concealed about two-hundred metres behind me, would take care of them. I was to take the next three out. A proficient sniper should be able to kill three targets before being detected.

Lying stock-still I watched the first three pass close to me.
They looked so young. The sweat was running down their faces, and they were being driven by fear.
They were scared! They had been well trained, but the fear in their eyes showed that they were novices in this war game.

The next group appeared in my sights and I had a good field of fire.
Now I'd only to hear the crack of my colleagues rifle to commence my own onslaught.

Yes, war was hell when you allowed your sensitive side to struggle to the surface.
Will it ever end?.

God's Word tells us.....Matthew 24:6 "You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. (New International Version)

Seeking Help in the Right Place

2011-01-18T18:38:00.000-06:00

A 42-year old woman with more than 1,048 Facebook "friends" wrote the following message on Christmas Day. "Took all my pills be dead soon bye bye everyone." USA today reported that most "friends" did not respond, but when a few did they posted mocking statements or did not take her seriously. There were reports that some did try to find her contact information, no one local came to her physical aid. She died. Alone. With 1,048 online "friends". A sad commentary on the shallowness of our society.

Following is a Walt Whitman poem that even though written in the 1800's is still relevant to the news posting above!

TO A STRANGER PASSING

You do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall'd as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me,
I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

What the Bible says:
Psalm 34:4
I sought the LORD, and He heard me and delivered me from all my fears.

Are we seeking help in the right place?

Something a bit different

2011-01-16T13:51:00.001-06:00

Just returned from my last residency at Wilkes University. It was fantastic! The MFA students worked through two tracks, Publishing and Teaching. The days and nights were long, the homework pertinent to our careers. I'm home and recovering for a day or two, but I'll now be busy looking for an agent for my NOW COMPLETED MANUSCRIPT!!!!!!!

During this last semester I will be an intern for Estruscan Press and will be tackling a project that should benefit the press and its authors as well as the educational community. I'll be privileged to work with Phil Brady and Starr Troupe who will be my directors. Very exciting!

Secondly I will begin my search for an agent. At residency I met with two agents who, although they do not represent my genre, have given me leads and permission to use their names with friends of theirs who do work in the genre in which my book fits.

In between all of this, I am going to keep creating short stories and submitting portions of my book for publication. I will be submitting an educational srticle along with an interview (if I can get it) with Pulitzer Prize winner, Paul Harding. Lofty goals for this year, but I know God has a plan and I'm just plugging on.

The last bit of news is that I'll be changing the focus of my website. I'm going to post twice a week on something a bit different. I'm going to search the newspapers for current events, good and bad, and respond to them, not with my comments, but with exerpts of prose and poetry. I will finish with a scripture that I hope may give you hope! The goal is to encourage you to read!

So, don't judge me, just read and enjoy. The world may seem better through the eyes of a writer. Have a good day!

My Last Residency at Wilkes University

2011-01-10T18:56:00.004-06:00

It's both exciting and sad to be back on campus at Wilkes University for the last time. My buddy, Gail Martin of the www.operatoonity.wordpress.com blog finished her degree in June, so I'm left floundering a bit this semester. Though my cohort is so supportive, I still feel like I've lost an arm. But, there's lots of work to do yet and I'm plugging on!

One of the things I've really learned to understand through this program is the way writers reach out to each other and give, unconditionally. People share ideas, read each others works, comment, give hints to make it better, offer to share publisher's names, agents names, etc., in an effort to help another writer succeed. Just a week ago, I found myself in the midst of a total rewrite of my book, The Edge of Redemption,with just a few days to go before I had to be on campus. I was able to call my friend Gail, and ask for her help in reading the rewrite to be sure I hadn't missed anything. I sent her the book in three sections for a total of 283 pages. She had corrections and suggestions back to me in hours. For those of you who write, you'll understand the monumental task! Without thought for her own life, she helped me with mine. For that, I will be eternally grateful!

With that in mind writers, is there some way you might be able to help a fellow writer? Maybe it's just a phone call or email of support. Maybe it's an offer to read and respond to a writing. Maybe it's a cup of coffee or a prayer. Writing is such a lonely life. We need our family and friends to remind us that what we are attempting to do is not a waste of our time.

So thanks to those who continually send prayers my way or call to let me know you care about this journey! I'm trying to pay you kindness forward!

Got to run! Homework:)

My new article!

2011-01-05T19:32:00.000-06:00

Sorry about the long hiatus, but the vacation was sorely needed! We got back from Hawaii and I found my article had been published by Hope Clark of www.fundsforwriters.com! She is a gracious and kind editor and a writers best friend!

Here's the full article! Now go on out there and sign up for your own newsletter which is filled with everything a writer needs to be successful!

ARTICLE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Living the Dream

By Ginger Marcinkowski

Something happens to women as they age. It's not just about
hair that sprouts out of unnatural places, nor the waves of
heat that wash over our sagging flesh. No, it's something much
more exciting. It's the chance to live out a dream.

It happened to me at age fifty-five. A tiny hope I'd harbored
most of my life surged to the surface like a volcanic eruption
one night. My husband and I were both picking at our dinner,
half-watching a television sit-com.

"I want to be a writer," I blurted.

"So what's stopping you?" my husband said, never taking his
eyes off the television.

I'd been expecting some sort of protest, some awkward glance
that would pooh-pooh my little dream. I hadn't thought of a
comeback if he'd actually said, "Go for it." I had no plan. For
days, I walked around in a fog, wondering what I should do next.

One evening my husband pushed a stack of paper at me, data on
all of the MFA programs around the nation. My mouth went slack
in surprise. "Here you go, Honey," he said, pulling four papers
out of the stack. "I've researched them all for you. I've
narrowed them down to what I think will work for you, these
four are your best bets. You can still keep your job AND do
these programs online."

"But. . ." I protested.

"No excuses Honey. It's time you did what you really want to do.
Besides, I'm retiring in a couple of years and I need you to keep
working." A wide smile cut into his face as I threw my arms
around him.

I chose the Wilkes University low-residency MFA program, because
it offered the flexibility of two eight-day residencies on the
Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania campus each year, and a chance to
interact with staff and students in person and online. Students
choose from five tracks of study: poetry, fiction, non-fiction,
screenplay and play writing. Tuition costs are $610 per credit
hour. Thirty credit hours are required for the Master's Degree
and an additional eighteen hours for the completion of the MFA.

The quality of the instructors and the outlets provided for a
student's completed work surprised me. Students work with mentors:
published authors, screenplay writers, stage playwrights and poets.
I work with the very talented, Sara Pritchard, author of the
threaded short-story collections, Crackpots & Lately. Having a
professional writer, as well as a skilled instructor available
online and by telephone has been invaluable to my learning the
craft of writing well. During the June 2010 residency, an agent
from New York read and gave an honest verbal and written critique
of my work, all part of the Wilkes program. I then got to enjoy a
one-on-one meeting with her during residency, an opportunity I'd
not heard of in other MFA programs. We "pitched" our work to
several agents and editors. Playwrights had off-Broadway readings
by professional actors. Wilkes's relationships with authors,
agents, editors and publishers have given me opportunities I'd
never dared to think about before this program!

I'm at a crossroads now, somewhere between ecstatic and afraid,
one semester away from receiving my MFA. I've completed my first
book and will be shopping it to an agent with the help of
professionals I've met. Other writers in the program have
encouraged and supported me the whole way; friends I'll never
forget.

Was it worth it? Every last harried minute of it! I'm living my
dream and writing like crazy!

Visit http://wilkes.edu/pages/412.asp for more information!

BIO
Ginger Marcinkowski is an aspiring author who's recently
received her Master's Degree in Creative Writing from Wilkes
University in Wilkes-Barre, PA and is currently pursuing her
MFA there. She placed in the Smoke City Narrators Novel Pitch,
and the Phillip Mangelsdorf Competition in Writing Excellence
and has received numerous Honorable Mentions in various
creative writing contests. She is an active blogger and is
in the editing process of her first complete manuscript.

Influences

2010-12-17T23:41:00.000-06:00

A long time ago, in a far away place.... Okay, so it was about six or so years ago in Washington, D.C., I attended a writers retreat put on by Algonkian Conferences and a man called Michael Neff. I arrived at Dulles Airport after dark and took a cab to the cabin which was located in a state park not far from D.C. For a moment I thought the cab driver was taking me someone to kill me as I had no idea where I was going. He didn't, but over the next couple of days I wondered if it wouldn't have been less painful.

Ten students, both male and female shared two five bedroom cabins along the edge of the Potomac River. It was lovely and we were all hopeful. We would spend a full week there, writing, critiquing, etc. The first day or two Michael Neff read us the riot act, explaining that most writers never go far because they give up, or worse yet just don't write. To tell you the truth, his attacks or (sharing of information)had the ten of us banding together against him like warriors. It took us the entire week to realize the value of what he had to say. We really didn't know anything!

We were cocky, over confident and just too green to realize we didn't know what we didn't know! But Michael Neff became the second (my husband was the first) of many to give me good, sound advice, advice that moved me step-by-step to where I am today.

Because of Michael Neff, a year later I attended and pitched a book in one of his New York Pitch Conferences. It was a book I hadn't even written but got a nice response from two publishers for a book that didn't exist! What I learned from the conference and from Michael, was how far I had to go. So I started on my degree, a degree that will culminate in May with a terminal degree and wrote a book! For that I will be ever grateful to Michael Neff.

Funny how people come and go in your life influencing you without you even understanding the effect they have had on you. Because this is the Christmas Season I want to blog about several of the people that have influenced me in my life, then ask you to reflect on and then thank those that have made a difference in your life!

For more information on Michael Neff's New York Pitch Conference see
http://algonkianconferences.com/index.htm

Aloha from Kauai!

A Whole Lot of Nothing

2010-12-15T22:54:00.000-06:00

For all of you poor people stuck in that ice cold weather, here's a photo of what we are looking at and doing. A whole lot of nothing! And, please feel sorry for us...it's only 78 degrees:)

I've been spending the mornings writing a few short stories that I'm sending out shortly. A couple of fun contests are coming up. Take a look!

100 Words or less...www.100wordsorless.com....due Dec 18. A real challenge to get a tight story in a few words.

Dreamquest...www.dreamquestone.com...Fiction & Non-fiction...Due by Dec 31.

The Warren Adler Contest...www.warrenadler.com...due Jan 15, 2011.

Have a good one!

Kauai or Bust

2010-12-11T23:35:00.000-06:00

The short version of how we finally managed to get to Kauai on a much needed vacation goes something like this.....

Cancer..prayer..surgery..prayer..blockage..prayer..big leg swelling..prayer..sonogram..prayer..no clot..praise..fluid sac..prayer..no cancer..praise..surgery..prayer..no Kauai.prayer...Kauai!!!! Praise!!!

Today was the first we've been able to really do nothing! No writing today. No work. Just sunshine, beaches and looking out to sea! Thanks to all of you who sent prayer our way! We wouldn't be here without you!

Already met a lovely woman, Judy and her wild man boyfriend, Dar. Judy is a poet, so we had a chat about books and authors we both enjoy! Very nice couple!

Also, my dear friend, Susan Jones of www.charmofthecarolines.com had a very successful weekend with the Tours of Antebellum Homes and authors that were hosted in Columbia, Tennessee last weekend. Lenore Hart and David Poyer were two of the invited authors. Susan opened her home to them as well and from what I understand a good time was had by all! Read about it on her blog!

Also, if you are serious about writing don't forget to sign up for Hope Clark's, Funds for Writer's online magazine. www.fundsforwriters.com You can get her wonderful subscription for 1/2 price or just $7.00 if you order before December 21, 2010. A must have for the latest articles, opportunities and contests! So order now!

And for you novice opera buffs, learn something new about opera from Gail Martin's website, http://operatoonity.wordpress.com! Start the new year learning more about some art form! You'll be richer for it!
Aloha!

Rejections

2010-11-19T23:28:00.000-06:00

Sometimes as writers, we expect that everyone will like everything we write. We have such a strong desire to be published that we are angered when the plain white post card with a stamped, "We can't use your work at this time. Thank you." drops into our mailbox, (email or post), and announces that yes, you are a crappy writer and this rejection note proves it.

Then we might pout, or call a fellow writer to try and suck some sympathy from them. We just know that there is a cad on the other end of that rejection letter, some jerk who probably didn't even read the wonderful piece of prose we wrote!

But what I've found, already, in my short career is that as a writer, we must listen, absord and understand what the rejection letter really means. It's not a personal attack. It is a rejection of the work. Maybe it was not aptly suited for the place to which it was sent. Maybe it was not written in a format that best displays the work. Maybe it's been done. Maybe the poor publisher is so overwhelmed that they just can't read one more work!

I had such was a rejection just a couple of weeks ago. At first, my disappointment was palpable. I say that, because I was alone and I swear I could feel the blood thumping through my veins as I read it. I was hurt, as a rejection of any writer's work cuts to the bone, (even though we won't admit it). Then I read the rejection again. I was the lucky writer who had an editor tell me what they didn't like about my story. They gave me helpful insights of what was expected for their publication. They were brutally honest! But they gave me something more. They gave me a second chance to write it!

Guess what? I did. I rewote the article. I received a reply that it was accepted! So, I guess the moral to this story is, save all the rejection postcards as you'll need them to remind you that as a writer, you will be disappointed. Not everyone will like everything you write, but write anyway, or maybe it's better said, rewrite anyway!

Have a good week!

General News and a firm Graduation date

2010-11-04T12:58:00.000-05:00

I've been conspicuously quiet as between concentrating on my school work and my husband's "procedure" have been keeping me quite busy. Now don't start calling me, he's fine, I'm fine and life is good!

That said, I'm on the verge of completing the educational portion of my paper and am running full bore at my book editing. I want to acknowledge the Des Moines writing group once again, as well as my friend and mentor, Sara, my writing buddy, Gray, my edit eyes, Marty, Chris, the New York agent, and my sister, Sue. Between all of their generous and honest critiques, I've finally found a structure for my book that makes sense!

Having never written a manuscript before, I didn't understand that structure is so closely related to the movement of the reader through time. Having a firm grip on that idea now, I am plodding ahead!

Also, I have just received news about graduation. Should the Creative Writing Office get all my information in on time, I should be graduating on May 22, 2010 with my MFA! Yippee! For those interested please see the following website for details! http://wilkes.edu/pages/754.asp

Thanks for all the prayers and thoughts! You guys are pulling me through this wacky and wonderful time!

Dark Agents

2010-10-27T22:19:00.000-05:00

Okay, I'll admit I'm less than knowledgeable on the process editors and agents have in choosing what books they decide are winners and losers. But even a beginning writer understands that we don't have the expertise to know what we don't know!So....with that, I've been reading everything several blogs on editors and agents. One in particular I really enjoy is Janet Reid's "Literary Shark" at http://queryshark.blogspot.com. She is shameless in her honesty, but a hoot!
For newbie writer's like me who are willing to take a good kick if my writing isn't up to par, sending a query to Janet Reid is like hitting a gold mind. If she like's your work, she likes it. If not, you are relegated to the "slush pile" quicker than a muscle twitch. So what has this to do with anything?
Well, I'm working on a pitch that I hope to throw in front of her sometime in the next 60 days. If I can keep her from puking....I win! If I can't, then I get some good critique I hope I can turn into a teachable moment....I win again!
Point is, learn from what the pros tell you. They know good work when they see it. They also know what won't sell. Learn from them. Don't take their critiques personally. Their thoughts make your writing better one way or the other!

Deciding on a Voice

2010-10-23T20:35:00.000-05:00

One of the things that hit me when I first went back to school was the true lack of knowledge I had on point-of-view when writing a story. I remember well our first professor, Mike Lennon, the very talented author who is now working on Norman Mailer's autobiography. We were standing in the cafeteria, me nervously mingling with the other new students, he engaging in conversation with another professor.
All of a sudden he turned to me and said, "Do you know what point-of-view in story is?" His white bushy eyebrows were furrowed into a question mark. I,in my usual deer-in-the-headlights fashion, stood open-mouthed, my gaping hole filled with a half-eaten piece of pizza, and blurted, "Huh?" He whirled back the other professor and said, "See? They (meaning me) don't even know the basics." The disgust in his voice washed over me and I shuffled away, head down, a long piece of mozzarella still clinging to the side of my mouth.
Fast forward to now. I am just completing my educational piece (well, maybe completing) for this semester. I've had to dissect point-of-view (POV)and structure to the point of ad-nauseum. But you know what? Professor Lennon was right. I didn't know squat. I'd start writing a story with one point-of-view and then change the point-of-view without even realizing it.

Here's an example.

Emily's watched her mother move to the kitchen window. Maureen hated days like this, days when gray covered the sky like an unopened umbrella.

The story starts out with Emily's POV, but snaps into Maureen's POV. How do you know that? As the POV character, Emily cannot know that Maureen hated the day unless her mother had used dialoge telling her such. Everything thought must come from Emily's point-of-view for the reader to understand story. When the author changes point-of-view, they must use distinct triggers so that the reader will understand the point-of-view has changed. The better use of the second sentence to keep it in Emily's point-of-view should have been:

Emily's watched her mother move to the kitchen window. She knew her mother hated days like this, days when gray covered the sky like an unopened umbrella.

See,even being blonde and married to a pollack, I AM learning something!

Even Generals Don't Know Everything

2010-10-16T15:28:00.003-05:00

I'm in San Jose, California with a retired Brigadier General. The General is a natural leader and recently has been encouraged to write her memoir. She had about 3/4 of the book written and had a publisher very interested in getting the book into print. But they wanted the book NOW! They also wanted to have control over the entire process and that can be difficult for someone who has been in charge for so long.

Without clear understanding of what the process entailed and no real explanation to the General, she found herself confused and a bit put out by the fact that both the agent and publisher wanted to "take over" her life.

I had the opportunity to share insights I have learned through my Master's program with her, such as an inside look at how and why agents and publishers want to "assist" us with our books. I explained that WE have the book idea, THEY have the expertise to know what the reader wants and how to get it in the hands of the reader. But, you might say, IT'S OUR STORY! I can't argue that, but if you are so tied to you work, your memoir and won't accept an expert's view in how to make your work marketable, then WHY are you writing a book? You are probably not that good!

So my advice to anyone who wants their baby published. Kill the baby. Let experts guide you. You don't have to lose the integrity of your book, you just need to be open to changes that make your baby sellable.

The General is a humble and very kind woman. She felt that the publisher wanted to "take control" of her life. The fault of her trepidation is not understanding what the "buying of rights" by a publisher means. She thought they'd have total control over her, thus she felt compelled to say no. Now she is more informed and ready to push ahead in the publishing world.

Writing a book is just one of the many cogs of the wheel when it comes to gettting a book published. It's a process and a tough one at that. In the end, it is rewarding to share with others the knowledge I've learned from my Master's Program. After all, isn't passing it on something we can all do?

What's your take?

Pass it On

2010-10-13T21:37:00.000-05:00

Trying to catch up on so many things, but I wanted to stop and give a shout out to several people I've met on the road lately, people who are ready to take the next step in their writing career.

In St Louis there was a man who drove the National Car Rental bus and shared with me his desire to write a book. In his face I could see a dream and it was beautiful.

Then in the trade show booth next to me in Orlando, I shared the premise of my manuscript with a wonderful lady who brought me to tears with the story of her sister's abuse by an uncle. She said she had felt so helpless, even though she had only found out about it years after it had happened. She wants to read the book when I finish edits. I was very moved by how the subject of my book had affected her.

Today on my way here to California, I sat next to a veteran who got choked up when I read him one of my favorite writings, called Passage. It's the story of a soldier I saw taken from a plane in a coffin.

Last week in Alaska, I went into a section of the convention that had different crafts from Alaskans. There in a corner was an old man with a stack of books in front of him. When I approached him, he smiled so brightly I just had to stop. I picked up his book and realized he was one of our nation's last living Code Talkers, one of the bi-lingual Navajo Indians recruited by the US Marine Corps in World Two to transmit secret tactical messages. Code talkers transmitted these messages over military telephone or radio communications nets using formal or informally developed codes built upon their native languages. Their service was very valuable because it enhanced the communications security of vital front line operations during World War II.(Info from Wikipedia)

I thumbed through the book, put it down and then left. Just outside the door I realized that I might be walking away from history and worse yet, a fellow writer, without offering some form of support. About two years earlier I had been in Alburqueque and book a book that I had signed by seven Code Talkers, so I knew the value of preserving this history.

I walked back in, bought the book and had the man autograph it for me. Just $15.00. The old man shook my hand so many times my arm almost fell off. He smiled widely again as I left as I stopped once more to thank him for his service. He was weeping.

I just don't know what my purpose here on earth is, but somehow, some way God is allowing me to use this writing thing as a way to encourage others.

As a writer we are never alone. There are thousands of people that have a dream of writing something. They just need a little encouragement.

I have seen so many of my new writing friends offering advice, patting me on the back and networking to help me find my way. Most writers have people in their lives like I do that offer that word of encouragement, or want to read our writings. Maybe it's time to pass their generosity on to someone else.

The Last Frontier

2010-10-09T21:51:00.000-05:00

Just back from our recent Alaska journey. (This one went without a hitch!) I'm on my way to St Louis, then to Orlando for a week. October is a wild month of travel, but right now the most important crush on time is my educational paper and edits, both due by early December for my MFA program. I'm taking every minute to read and write so blogs are scarce at this point.

Quick update though. Tate and Amanda live in a wonderful albeit remote area of Alaska. They are hunting, fishing and really enjoying a simpler life. Michael & I loved it there, though Alaska is a bit remote for someone as high maintanence as I am:) A great journey for us though!

As for writing, I'm in crunch time so I'll be changing photos but doing little talking until early December! Bear with me. Some good things coming!

A Great Outlet for some new writers in MFA programs

2010-09-24T11:57:00.000-05:00

Also, if I'm being a bit quiet, it's because my travel schedule and assignments are overwhelming right now. Last weekend I had the best time with my siblings, (minus oldest brother, Milton, but we know how odd he is:)We visited the Creation Museum in Petersburg, Kentucky. It was great. But the best moments came as we shared laughter sitting around an outdoor fireplace at the Residence Inn. It made me realize how precious the love of family and friends is. Each of my siblings has some very special quality that I want to emulate. It was nice to be able to let each of them how much they mean to me.

Anyway, I've been browsing Writers Market for an outlet for a short piece of work when I came upon this! Might be a great place to get a clip for any of you in an MFA program! Here's the full poop!

THE WRITING DISORDER

P.O. Box 93613
Los Angeles CA 90093-0613

Phone: (323)336-5822
E-mail: submit@thewritingdisorder.com
Website: www.thewritingdisorder.com

About
Covers: Quarterly literary magazine featuring new and established writers. "The Writing Disorder is an online literary magazine devoted to literature, art, and culture. The mission of the magazine is to showcase new and emerging writers--particularly those in MFA writing programs--as well as established ones. The magazine also features original artwork, photography, and comic art. Although it strives to publish original and experimental work, The Writing Disorder remains rooted in the classic art of storytelling."

Quarterly literary magazine featuring new and established writers. "The Writing Disorder is an online literary magazine devoted to literature, art, and culture. The mission of the magazine is to showcase new and emerging writers--particularly those in MFA writing programs--as well as established ones. The magazine also features original artwork, photography, and comic art. Although it strives to publish original and experimental work, The Writing Disorder remains rooted in the classic art of storytelling."

Freelance Facts
Established: 2009
Multiple Submissions: Yes
Guidelines available online.
90% freelance written
Circulation: 1,000+
Byline given.
Pays on Pays on publication.
No kill fee.
Acquires first North American serial rights.
Queries accepted by mail,e-mail
Sample copy online.
Responds in 6-12 weeks to queries, 3-6 months to ms.
Publish time after acceptance: Publishes ms an average of 3-6 months after acceptance.

Nonfiction
Buys mss/year: 1-3/year

Submission Method: Query.

Pays with a copy of annual anthology for those published within it.

Pays expenses of writers on assignments: No

Needs:
book excerpts
essays
historical
humor
interview
nostalgic
personal experience
photo feature
profile
travel
comic art

Fiction
ethnic, experimental, fantasy, historical, horror, humorous, mystery, novel excerpts, science fiction, serialized novels, short stories, slice-of-life vignettes, comic art. Does not want to see romance, religious, or fluff.

How to Contact: Query by mail or e-mail. Publishes ms an average of 3-6 months after acceptance. Submit seasonal material 6 months in advance. Accepts simultaneous submissions. Responds in 6-12 weeks to queries, 3-6 months to ms. Sample copy and guidelines available online.

Payment & Terms: Accepts 1-3 mss/year. 7,500 words maximum. Acquires first North American serial rights. Pays contributor's a copy of anthology to writer's whose work has been selected for inclusion.

Needs:

ethnic
experimental
fantasy
historical
horror
humorous
mystery
novel excerpts
science fiction
serialized novels
short stories
slice-of-life vignettes
comic art

Does not want: Does not want to see romance, religious, or fluff.

Buys 1-3/year mss/year

7,500 words maximum.

Photography
Reviews GIF/JPEG files.

Offers no additional payment for photos accepted with ms.

Buys one-time rights.

Poetry
Needs: Quarterly literary magazine featuring new and established writers. "The Writing Disorder is an online literary magazine devoted to literature, art, and culture. The mission of the magazine is to showcase new and emerging writers--particularly those in MFA writing programs--as well as established ones. The magazine also features original artwork, photography, and comic art. Although it strives to publish original and experimental work, The Writing Disorder remains rooted in the classic art of storytelling." Wants avant garde,free verse,haiku,light verse,traditional.

How to Contact: Query by mail or e-mail. Publishes ms an average of 3-6 months after acceptance. Submit seasonal material 6 months in advance. Accepts simultaneous submissions. Responds in 6-12 weeks to queries, 3-6 months to ms. Sample copy and guidelines available online. Acquires first North American serial rights.

Also Offers: Annual print anthology of best work published online. Pays contributor's a copy of anthology to writer's whose work has been selected for inclusion.

Tips
"We are looking for writers currently in writing programs--both students and faculty."

I'm Back with some new contest!

2010-09-13T20:55:00.000-05:00

Note the photos of Michael & I motorcycling our way through Kentucky and Indiana! Great weather. Roads that seemed like they had just been paved for us. Winding backroads just too pretty to describe and rest, lots of rest, which we needed. Enjoy the photos, but take a look at a few contests that might be just right for your work!

From Hope Clark's Funds for Writers (You mean you haven't subscribed yet?)

DANAHY FICTION PRIZE
http://www.ut.edu/TampaReview/TRDetail.aspx?id=12172
http://www.ut.edu/tampareview/trsubmgrframe.aspx
---
$18 ENTRY FEE
Submit up to 25 The Danahy Fiction Prize is an award of $1,000
and publication in Tampa Review given annually for a previously
unpublished work of short fiction. All entries are considered
for publication. Each entrant also receives a one-year
subscription to Tampa Review. Postmark Deadline: November 1, 2010.

=====

BOTTLE TREE PRODUCTIONS' ONE-ACT PLAY COMPETITION
http://www.bottletreeinc.com
---
$25 ENTRY FEE
First Prize $1,000
Second Prize $250
Third Prize $100

One Act Plays of up to 70 minutes may be submitted. Plays can
have previously been produced but not professionally. Deadline
November 30, 2010. Winners will be announced in January of 2011.
If you want a critical analysis of your work please enclose a
cheque for $50 made payable to Bottle Tree Productions.

From Poets & Writers

Best Innovative College Writing- http://jadedibisproductions.com/platypus_prize.html- College Writing Anthology- Seeking excellent work from any college student of any age.

Seems to be a lot going on out there in the publishing world. Write your best piece, edit it until it hurts, then seek out a few places to send it in, who knows maybe you'll find yourself published!

So, If you find something to share with us, share it, won't you?

Just Back From Vacation

2010-09-09T16:07:00.000-05:00

Just a quick note with more to follow in the next day or so. Just back from a spectacular ride through Kentucky,(mostly). Timing was such as we were unable to visit special friends along the way. Weather and life just gets in the way. Will post photos and a new contest tomorrow!

Structure and Story

2010-09-01T22:35:00.000-05:00

I'm in the middle of writing my educational paper for my MFA. The pressure is on to write something intelligent that makes difference to another writer who might be struggling with the same issue of "How does a Writer put together a story to make it interesting enough for the reader to keep turning the page?"

Well, as I'm reading and studying this issue what I'm finding is that there is no magic bullet. Every writer does their own thing. But with that said, I am finding there are certain structures that every writer uses. Here's two ways a writer can construct a novel.

1. You can write a braided story, in other words, you have two or more stories that do not seem connected in the beginning of the book but ultimately come together near the end to make sense of all stories. A book written in this vein might be Paul Hardings Pulitzer prize winning book, Tinkers.

2. You can frame a book, in otherwords, start the book with an action scene, then flashback or forward for most of the story, then wrap back to the original scene to end it. That is the structure I have chosen for my novel.

3. You can write chronologically where everything happens in an orderly fashion. There is a starting point and everything in the story follows in an orderly fashion.

The reader ultimately decides what works for them. Do you have any other structural styles you'd like to share?

Maybe you

Get to Know "The Beast" and a couple of contests!

2010-08-29T17:50:00.000-05:00

Just sharing a photo of "The Beast", the latest addition to the household. As you know I've just finished my stint in Orlando and have my feet up on a chair at the Hyatt hotel at the airport awaiting my return home. It's been a great show for work and I've had the priviledge to work with wonderful staff! This also gives me a chance to say hello to so many vendors I've come to know over the years.

One surprise was a great conversation I fell into with two gentlemen and a lady I have known for quite awhile. They all are important people in their own fields. As I discussed my writing endeavors, I found out that the two gentlemen are writers, on efiction, one non-fiction. One has had several books and articles published while the other has many connections for his books. The lady was interested in agenting. While this all seems co-incidental, I have realized that not only does God have a plan, but that so many people we writers come into contact with are as passionate as we are or have connections that are valuable to one another!

So I guess what I'm saying is, open up a little more about what you are doing. Support those who need your help, but don't be afraid to ask if they might assist you as well! These people are so happy to do so! Now get out there, will you?

Today, take a look at a couple of contests you shouldn't miss!

The 19th Annual Kingsley Tufts Poetry Award
$100,000 for a book!
Postmarked by Sept 15, 2010
www.cgu.edu/tufts or call (909) 621-8974 Big prize!!!!

Kate Tufts Discovery Award- Prize for a First Book
$10,000 prize.
Postmarked by Sept 15, 2010
www.cgu.edu/tufts or call (909) 621-8974

John Steinbeck Award for the Short Story
$1000 prize. Must be unpublished and up to 6,000 words. By Nov 1.
www.reedmag.com. $15 reading fee includes copy of 2011 issue.

Enjoy!

Calm Before the Storm

2010-08-24T14:06:00.000-05:00

Made it back from Portland,Oregon late on Friday and jumped on the motorcycle ffor an impromtu motorcycle weekend. We left in the pouring rain and drove 3 hrs to Dubuque where we had a great dinner and took a deep breathe. The next morning we rode the Wisconsin River Road (very scentic) north to LaCrosee,stopping at both The House on the Rock and Taliesin (Frank Lloyd's Wright's home and burial ground.) I'll share more of that later as it has a great book connected with it.
We stopped at Wilton, WI to a place that used to be called "Pies Are Square". Years ago when we bicycled most of the Wisconsin trails this was one of our favorite stops. The pies were always fresh and made in a square pan. The shop also sold vintage items making it a very unique place to stop. Well, as everything is, it had changed owners. No worry though, they were delightful, the sandwiches good, but they were out of pie! To top it off, one of the delightful women that worked there said now, "Pies are round!"
We stayed in Lacross that night then ventured back home on Sunday, enjoying the fresh smell of cut grass, cow pastures and river water. All in all, it was a much needed rest for us both. I'm headed off to Oralndo tomorrow and will get back home on Monday of next week. Then Wednesday to California, home Friday. You can see what the month of September is going to be like!

Remember when I said one of my goals is to encourage other writers? I had a great opportunity to do just that on Sunday evening. A good friend of mine, Dr. Jeff Miller and his lovely wife Kim, were on a radio show promoting his new book "The Road to Happiness is Always Under Construction." He'd let me know so I tuned in via the internet. As I sat listening, I heard that listeners could call in and ask a question. Having read the book and being a fellow writer I know the importance of supporting each other, so I called in with a question.
After the show, Jeff sent a lovely message to me thanking me for the support. It's as simple as that fellow writers. Don't be too busy to give a fellow writer a lift. Who knows when you might need one! Have a good day!

A Little Help From Your Friends

2010-08-20T14:29:00.000-05:00

Sometimes a writer needs a little help from their friends. I spend a lot of time alone in an empty hotel room. You’d think with that much time I’d be able to get a lot of work done. Yet, with my job, I have to rise early, stand on my feet for hours and by the time I get back to my hotel room, I’m wiped. Right now in this semester, I’m reading 7 or 8 texts and responding to the way they show this writer how to structure her story. I won’t even get to more re-editing of the book until late September.

I’m itching to write, but a good writer must read as well. I just finished some great books, which I’ll share in a few days. As a little break, I’m looking for a market for a couple of short stories. Often before I send them out I send them to friends who have volunteered to critique them for me. It helps to get someone else’s view of my work.
If you find yourself in this dilemma, why not try out a few of these sites. They just might be the kind of help you need to get that first story out the door!

www.critiquecircle.com
This site is free but accepts donations. You can write any genre and both give and receive reader feedback.

www.alongstoryshort.com
This is a free e-zine. The authors provide personal feedback to any author who queries and offers suggestions on how to improve the work.

www.mywriterscircle.com
This is a forum that has a Q & A sections, jobs and a critique area for novels, non-fiction and scripts.

Shoveling

2010-08-15T21:25:00.000-05:00

Just got back from "The Breakers" hotel in Palm Beach, FL. It's a lovely property, but trying to choke down a $45 hambueger becomes too much for someone like me. The property sits on the ocean, (which I only saw in a drive-by) and is a wonderful resort. I got to visit with a good friend who is a property manager for a Palm Beach family. That was great to see him.

He took me to a restaurant that sat on a small marina. We had a great dinner, so I returned there the next night with two of the girls who worked in a couple of booths around me. When we arrived, a jolly man named Randy, (who looked like a sea-faring Captain) cajoled us into joining a table of strangers. We all laughed and had a great time. A lovely woman named Nancy was digging in her beach purse and pulled out a small yellow plastic shovel and gave it to me. Probably because I told her I'm a writer. She knows about the shoveling of tale tales we do. She herself is an artist. She was a delightful lady. I promised I'd carry the little shovel with me, so if you see it in photos from time to time, you'll understand why!

Because I have been having technical difficulties with my computer, I haven't been able change photos from my camera or pull my contests for you. This should be corrected in a day or two, so hang with me!

In the meantime, keep writing!

What a Trip!

2010-08-11T22:12:00.001-05:00

Here we go with yet another klutz adventure! I’m on my way to work today—really—in the office and everything. I had forgotten that I would be attending a co-worker’s father’s funeral and Had dressed like I was marching in the Mardi Gras parade. Neon pinks and greens, white pants. I couldn’t have been any more obvious unless I had added those bright colored beads that women get in New Orleans when they flash their boobs at men.

I might not have mentioned that I was almost 60 miles from home. In Des Moines, which is where I commute to when I am in town. Most of you can picture me driving along in the car at 72 mph, radio blaring, wind whipping my hair up through the moon roof of the car, singing off-key to some country song I don’t really know the words to. I’m five minutes from work and in the left lane of traffic when I realize I’ve forgotten proper attire. I see the exit for Mills Civic Parkway, (Walmart lives there and is the only store open at 6:40a.m.) Without so much as a concern for anybody around me, I crank the wheel hard to the right and cross two lanes of bumper-to-bumper traffic, careening off the exit like I had it planned all along. Trust me, I could read the many gestures and lips other drivers sent my way.

I dash from my car and begin a quick chase through the store looking for anything appropriate for the event. I gather a black dress & top to cover the bulges, nylons (it’s like 100 degrees) and a pair of flat shoes that looks like a snake swallowed my feet. All totaled I spent about $4.37, but I certainly was more presentable.

Well then I get to work and my work partner, Anna says it’s getting to be time to go.
“I have to change. I’ll just be a minute,” I say and head off to the bathroom with my new garb.
I fling open the bathroom door, put my rubber soled shoe onto the shiny tile and begin a slow split to the floor, whacking my head on the wall in front of me and sending my new duds flying across the room. My right knee slams to the ground, while my left leg heads west. I come down hard on my right elbow and all !@#@! pounds splay across the bathroom like a newly butchered chicken!

And there I lay surrounded by my Wal-Mart clothes and thinking, “What just happened?” I mutter a few words like, “You are such a klutz” and “Get up, you fool, get up!” Like most people would do, I look back at the floor. I feel a pop in my back. I’m blaming the floor, but I don’t have my glasses on so I can’t see anything there. I pat my hand all over the tile then think, “I better get up in case someone comes in and sees me splayed across the room like bad carpet.” I rise slowly, accessing the aches and pains I am already feeling, but content that I neither have outward scars or blood and nobody has caught me looking like Andy Rooney!

Two seconds later, from a stall at the back of the room I hear, “Did somebody fall? Are you okay?” Then from another stall, “It wasn’t me, I think it was Ginger! Are you okay, Ginger?” Then they begin chattering back and forth about my fall. I hear the toilets flush and duck into the first stall more out of embarrassment than anything.

These women are terrific, but have me all but dead. I assure them I’m fine and get on with my changing. Before I am out the door, HR is there with a hundred forms for me to fill out. They all but call an ambulance!

I slink back to my desk and Anna who is waiting our departure. I explain what happened, sending her into stitches and promptly to our boss. We finally get to where we are going. We greet our co0worker amidst a room full of co-workers and his family. I give him a big hug with my condolences. Anna saddles up to me and whispers in my ear.

“You might want to pull off the price tag.”
“Price tag?” I say. “Where?”
“The one dangling under your armpit,” she says. I saw it across the room when you gave Rod a hug. So did everyone else,” she giggles.

I stumble my way to the car, as the pointed toes of my cheap shoes catch on every carpet thread in the funeral home and every stone in the driveway. I look like a bum after a big night of drinking. I head home. No sense fighting my bad luck anymore today. I put the window down and let my hair fly around the car. I stick my arm out the window and make waves in the passing wind.

WHACK! A field beetle doing about 200mph slaps me right in the nook of my arm. I jerk the arm in the window so fast; I hit myself in the face. I decided to pull over to the side of the road, roll up the windows and call Michael. I’m going to sit here until he comes and gets me. So if I don’t answer your phone calls for the next few days, I’m probably still waiting for him. I’ll get a blog out though! It will be from my Ipad

Now for the latest contest from Hope Clark at Funds for Writer's. (You really should subscribe!)

THE CHARITON REVIEW SHORT FICTION PRIZE
http://tsup.truman.edu/chariton/guidelines.asp
---
$20 ENTRY FEE
Deadline September 30, 2010. An annual award for the best
unpublished short fiction on any theme up to 5,000 words in
English. The author will receive $1,000, and the winning story
will be published in The Chariton Review. Three finalists will
also be published in the Spring issue. All U.S. entrants will
receive a complimentary copy of the Spring prize issue.

Tinkering with Life

2010-08-08T22:00:00.000-05:00

Had a great birthday thanks to my great family and friends! Received a ton of cards and calls. Like I'm a somebody! It was great! Had some dear friends from Elkhart spend a couple of nights with us. Deb & John were on their way to Sturgis, S.D.

Don't tell me you haven't heard of Sturgis? A gazillion motorcycles descend on a small town and create havoc for a week. Most trailer their bikes in. Wooses. (no offense John) The area is spectacular this time of year. Mt Rushmore, Custer National Park, buffalo and prairie dogs all excited about the tourism. I'm not that brave. We took off for Galena, IL instead. Great food, fun shopping and just our luck, rain. Thanks to Jim Dout for the new Harley rainsuit he left me when they moved! I was dry as dry could be. A great weekend! Now here's short book review on a new book!

Tinkers
I've been a little busy. Tinkering mostly. Finished my second required text for my critical paper, a Pulitizer Prize winning book called "Tinkers" by Paul Harding. Wow! Talk about a confusing mix master of beauty in prose!

Here's a quick rundown. The book opens with the main character, George, a clockmaker. He's dying of cancer. Eight days left. The reader enters as George is hallucinating. Wild stuff nightmares are made of. As he calms a bit, his father, Howard, who died years ago is introduced. Howard was a tinker, a man who visited homes with a wagon full of items housewives and farmers might need. Sort of a salesman, repairman, shoulder to cry on kind of guy. Howard is also an epileptic whose wife is tired of nursing him.

The book is framed with George dying, but the story is interspersed with Howard and George's relationship. The stories are woven back and forth leaving the reader sometimes not knowing where they are or with which character they are with. Thrown in for good measure is a how-to of clock fixing.

I was pretty much confused through the whole thing, but kept being drawn back into the story because of the spectacular use of language. This was a first novel and it wins the Pulitizer Prize! Pretty amazing feat. I finished the book yesterday having underlined and marked up the whole thing. Than I sat back and thought about it.

Maybe the author meant the reader to be drawn in and confused as that was what Geroge was going through as he lay there dying. It was also what Howard went through as he wet through a seizure. The author was tinkering with the reader! Pretty amazing stuff here!

When Life Gives You Ideas

2010-08-02T19:17:00.000-05:00

Fast week last week. Kansas City, St Louis then Myrtle Beach. Don't let anyone tell you that flying all the time is fun! Here's my latest adventure. Recently I purchased a "Body Bugg". (www.bodybugg.com) to try and give me some motivation to lose a bit of weight. The Body Bugg is a calculator of sorts. It monitors, via a black armband you wear on your upper arm, the amount of calories you burn in a day. At night you log on to your Ipad, (thanks guys!) and put in everything that goes into your mouth. The thing then gets plugged into your computer and syncs to calculate how many calories you ate and how many you burned!

When it quits screaming, you've done okay. Well, I got on a plane to Chicago from St Louis. I'd been working all day and was feeling full of energy. For those that know me, that's not always good. I get to my row on the plane and there' a distinguished looking man, a bit older than I am sitting in the tiny seat next to me. He lets me into my seat. I take off my jacket and my Body Bugg shows. I see him looking at it, but at first he says nothing. Curiosity finally wins him over and he says, "What's that thing on your arm?"

I say, "A jail monitor."

"What did you do?"

"Murder." I say matter-of-factly.

He gets quiet and turns away. A few minutes later he looks at me and says,
"You look like a nice enough person. It must of been a long time ago."

I read the hope in his eyes, but I can't resist.

"Yeah, it was. 'Bout two weeks now."

His eyes widen. "Why are you on this plane then?"

"Going to meet my parole officer in Chicago. She thinks I'm a flight risk."

He cranks his head sideways and gives me a good long look.

"But you're on a plane, doesn't that mean you are a flight risk?"

"Naw," I say. "The police put me on this plane. Actually I was more of a driving risk. Got out of Colorado ten days ago in a golf cart. Made it clean to the Oklahoma border before someone stopped me."

"Why did they stop you?"

"I still had someone's clubs on the back end and there wasn't a golf course for two hundred miles."

By now, I'm barely able to contain myself, but the business man is so intrigued I just have to play it out.

"Yeah, even stopping for gas didn't raise anyone's suspicion," I said. "I told them I lived just down the road and had forgotten my purse. Everyone helped me out."

"How did it end?"

"How do these always end, Mr.?"I said straigh faced. "Speed trap."

He stares at me for the longest time wondering if he heard right, then bursts right out laughing.

The trip the rest of the way was hysterical and gave me a great scene for a book! When he got off the plane, he walked right up to my work partner, Anna, and gave my "parole officer" a big hug! Here's to a great flight , Bob!

And THAT's how scenes can be made!

Here's a contest from Tom Howard! Enjoy!

The $5,550 Tom Howard Poetry Contest for Verse In All Styles and Genres, plus The $5,550 Tom Howard Short Story, Essay & Prose Contest are now open for entries.
You'll find full details at respectively http://poetrycontests.exactpages.com (you will need to scroll halfway down the page for the Tom Howard Contest) and http://shortstorycontest.0catch.com

An exclusive site for the Tom Howard Poetry Contest is http://tomhowardpoetry.bravepages.com

An alternative site for both contests: http://www.winningwriters.com (you will need to click the contest of your choice at the top right or top left).

2010-07-28T23:00:00.000-05:00

Those who know me well have to laugh at the fact that I am no stranger anywhere I go. That gift most probably came from my mother, Glenna, but I'm quick not to claim that as my family members, (five sisters and three brothers) all get great joy out of calling me "Glinger." I don't make too big a fuss over it as I know there's not one of them that can look in the mirror and not see their mother staring back at them:) They try pawning off her bad habits on me, but I'm adopted and that stuff is hereditary.

So, today I'm in St Louis for work. I board a plane, or should I say three planes, to make my way to Myrtle Beach. I'll be here until Sunday. It's been hot and muggy and I'm dressed in a suit, or I was dressed in a suit, until like most menopausal women, I get too hot and pull into a parking lot of a school and strip off everything I'm wearing clean down to my underwear, crank up the air conditioning and flop my head onto the steering wheel of the car while I refresh myself. Doesn't everybody do that? Work with me.

Yes, you know what happens next. I hear a giggle outside the car, look up and there stands two teenage girls pointing and laughing hysterically! Only me:) I did manage to pull on my travel clothes right away and screamed out of the parking lot toward the airport, gravel spewing across the lot like the Louisiana oil well! What next?

Note the picture today. It was in the window of a store and I thought it was so interesting I just had to snap a photo. Artists of all kinds intrigue me, whether they are painters, glass blowers, dancers or writers. Their works make life a bit easier to digest and add a richness to the blah days we sometimes have. Enjoy! Got to get to bed! Lots of work to do tomorrow. Watch for a contest!

I Need More Time!

2010-07-25T22:16:00.000-05:00

The semester for the final two terms of the MFA is up and running. I'll be reading a boatload of texts and have begun doing research for my educational paper. More editing as well on the book. Travel is up as well, but I work well under pressure!

With that said, as a writer I'm always trying to "find" time for writing. I get up at 4:30am and read my Bible, and have to be out the door by 5:45am for work. I have a 1 hr drive time each way to work (when I'm in town). I listen to a radio pastor on the way to work and usually an audiobook on the way home. As of last week, (I have my first full week in now), I am making time (1/2 hr) for exercise. I try to catch up on my blog, answer emails and look for markets to send work out to. I'm usually in bed by 10:30pm.

When I'm on the road, I can squeeze out time on the plane, but if you've noticed, I don't have time to cook, (Michael does it all), clean, (Michael and our once every other week cleaner does it all), do laundry, (Michael does it all), etc. He is so supportive of this time in my life, but I'll owe him BIG:)

Anybody out there got any tips on where and how I can fit in 30 more minutes of writing without dying of no sleep? What do you guys do? I could use some advice here.

Friends and a Note on Writing an Author's Bio

2010-07-24T21:31:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I had lunch with my good friend and work partner, Anna, and two women from a company we work with in Des Moines. It was about 115 degrees, I swear. Okay, maybe only eighty-nine, but it sure felt like 115.
Anna and I arrive a bit early and get a table. One of the women flies through the door a few minutes late and says, "It's so hot outside my armpits are growing orchids!" With that, the most hilarious lunch of my life takes place. These three women tell stories until my sides are splitting. New friendships are born, reminding me of the many friends God has given me in my life.

I heard from one via email yesterday and it made my day. Nile App, my adventure friend, my spiritual buddy, someone who I've always admired, dropped a note to me. We shared a few back and forth emails, catching up on each others lives. Though we haven't seen one another in years, she's always in my heart, a friend who's shared countless treks through woods, marathons, canoeing, you name it! And the emails gave me a great idea for a story. You never no where you'll find an inspiration or a freind for that matter. Both experiences made me realize the value of the people we make, new or old. Call a friend today, or drop a note. Don't let too much time go by. Now on to work!

Preparing for publication requires an writer to have an authr's bio. A bio can be used to introduce the writer to an agent, editor or publisher as well as be used in the writer's book. It need not be long or braggy, but it should have these key points.

1. Include your "clips" or published articles. If you have no credits, skip this part.
2. Name any contests or awards you have that relate to the work you are submitting.
3. If you belong to any large organizations relating to writing, such as the Mystery Writers of America or the Romance Writers of America, mention that. It shows you are committed to writing.
4. If you have a "platform" or a following of any sort, list it. For example, my friend Gail Martin wrote a comical book about a small opera guild in Hankey, Pennsylvania. When she was finished, she took all of the research materal she had and started a blog called 'operatoonity." She suddenly finds herself doing interviews with opera stars who contact her! Now that's a platform!
5. If you've attended an MFA program, list that as well.

Now get writing that bio! You'll be needing it soon!

Graduation Night

2010-07-22T04:43:00.000-05:00

Having not quite finished the rest of the Graduation story, I return for just a moment. The photo above is of five of our mentors on stage acceping an award for one of our classmates, Aleysha Harren for winning the first Eutruscan Press prize. Aleysha is an officer in the United States Navy and was unable to attend this residency due to her service. We were all proud of her to have won! From left to right: Mike Lennon, David Poyer, Kaylie Jones, Bob Mooney & Phil Brady.

The final evening of the residency was exciting. We had a wonderful dinner with lots of laughter nd encouragement from everyone around us. As the time came for the degree to be bestowed on us, we were called to the stage with our mentors who read for the sudience their experience working with us. I was very humbled by Sara's generous and kind words about me and my work. With the applase ringing loudly, the granddaughterof Jack Jones, (author of From Here to Eternity) awarded our degrees. What a great feeling! It made all of the hard work of the past eighteen months so worth it!

When I left there that night I realized one of the things that would be important from then on if I were to become a serious writer was goal setting! My friend Gray and I have committed to writing goals and then holding each other accountable to attraining the goals.

Over the next few blogs, I'll share them with you and maybe even spur you on to set attainable goals for something you might have always wanted to do! My first one pertaining to writing is:

1. Write for at least thirty minutes a day.

So here I am 4:30 A.M. clacking on the keyboard. I can't be a writer unless I write. What is it that you've put off doing?

Film, Play and Fiction Opportunities!

2010-07-16T20:58:00.000-05:00

Just came from a wonderful dinner for my job in Seneca Falls, NY. I got to watch the sun set over a spectacular vineyard ( Ventosa Vineyards) that is set on the shores of Seneca Lake. Then I remembered I had to come back and post a scholarship and a contest that are available for film, plays and fiction that I don't want you to miss! So check out these opportunities before it's too late!

The UFVA sponsored Carole Fielding Student Grants are not tuition-based scholarships, rather they are grants for production or research proposals. The deadline for submisstion of application is December 15th, anually, and is open to undergraduate and graduate students in film & television. Faculty sponsors must be UFVA members or must be from UFVA member institutions. Categories are: Narrative, Documentary, Experimental, Animation, MultiMedia, and Rearch.

 Application Deadline

 December 15, 2010

 Number Of Awards  5

 Maximum Amount  $5,000

 Website Address  http://www.ufva.org/

 Scholarship Description

Up to $4,000 can be awarded for production projects, up to $1,000 can be awarded in Research.

Guidelines and current application are available at the UFVA website:

 Students pursuing MFAs in a variety of areas are eligible:

 film directing • production • screenwriting

playwriting • fiction writing

 The scholarship can be used towards tuition and expenses, and is open to students pursuing an MFA

From Hope Clarks website, Funds for Writers http://www.fundsforwriters.com/

TENNESSEE WILLIAMS ONE-ACT PLAY CONTEST

http://www.tennesseewilliams.net/contests

---

$25 ENTRY FEE

Grand Prize - $1,500. Staged reading at the 2011 Festival (25th

anniversary: March 23-27). Full production at the 2012 Festival.

VIP All-Access Festival pass for 2011 and 2012 ($1,000 value).

Publication in Bayou.

Top Ten Finalists - Names will appear on website. Finalists will

also receive a panel pass ($60 value) to attend the 2011 Festival.

Submit unpublished, never publicly performed one-act plays up to one

hour in length. Deadline: November 1, 2010. Plays must not have

been previously produced, published or performed, including in a

formal staged reading.

Back to Normal

2010-07-15T21:31:00.000-05:00

Well, life is good. I'm back, a bit more rested, and in New York (upstate) for the next few days. All of the paper work is in for the completion of my thesis and the contracts for the MFA have been sent. The kids got their housing today in Alaska. Just the townhouse they wanted. 2 bedroom/2 bath with room for a pony:) or at least the two dogs. Still no car, but they are working on it. Life is an amazing journy when you know who's guiding the way!

A couple of contests you should be looking at before the deadlines arrive:

Glimmer Train Short Story Contest-Deadline July 31, 2010. http://www.glimmertrainpress.com/writer/html/index2.aspead

Fan story- aseries of contests www.Fanstory.com

Have a great day!

A Little Detour and a Big Saga

2010-07-12T23:56:00.002-05:00

Any parents out there will certainly appreciate this little tale. I'll call it "Excursion".

As I'd told you, Last Wednesday I headed to New Orleans for work. The show I attended was to finish on Saturday, July 10 and I would be homeward bound. Michael had come along with me, lazing by the pool reading as I worked. Tate and Amanda had left our house on July 1 and were making their way to Tate's next Coast Guard base in Kodiak Island, Alaska. Before the kids left we made sure they had new tires on the Hummer 3 truck they drive ($900) and a tune-up ($400). All was well.

In New Orleans the 110 degree weather kept me sweating, which makes the whole city smell like garbage. Anyway, Thursday night we get a paniced call from Tate....and a parent's worst night mare....a message.
"Mom, Dad, call me immediately! We have a crisis!" Naturally my phone doesn't work in the convention center and Michael's phone wasn't turned on until later. When service finaaly comes, we have 15 frantic, "Call me!" messages. Any parent out there knows the dreaded feeling, where your skin crawls across your body and your heart stops.

We finally get to Tate. His voice is trembling. Here's the conversation.
"Mom, Dad, the Hummer blew up! I mean we were driving down the road about 55-60 mph, we hear a little pop! and we get worried so we hit the OnStar button and ask them to run a diagnostic. They tell us that it should be okay to make the next 15 miles to Whithorse, Yukon Territory, Canada to have it looked at. So we drive on."

Right about now, Michael and I are thinking, "Here we go. They were probably driving 100mph pulling that trailer and hadn't checked the oil since they left our house." (Parents, you know you'd be thinking this.)

They continue. "So Mom, we drive a little further and all of a sudden, (That's how trouble always arrives, isn't it?), smoke starts coming out of the engine, flames are shooting up all over the place. I get the car to the side of the road and tell Amanda to grab the dogs and get out. (This is where we see God's hand in things.)
We jump from the car and before we even could pull anything out, a young man named Eric (no, they didn't ask his name right then) pulls over, jumps out with a fire extinguisher and puts out the flames. (Really? A fire extinguisher? Who carries those?) Eric then gives the kids a ride to town. Onstar gets them a tow truck and has the truck and trailer towed to Whitehorse. By then it's too late to do anything more than pass on the bad news to the parents and figure out what to do next."

On Friday, Tate startes making calls, first to our agent, Larry, whom I'm a little bee peeved at. All he does is give Tate a phone number for some woman in New York. Here's the catch. In Canada there is no "Progressive" agency, so Tate couldn't get any insurance adjustor until "New York" approves one. But the lady in New York is three hours ahead of the kids time and not answering her phone. They leave twenty messages. Phone calls are flying back and forth between the parents and the kids as we try and help them. They had planned in an extra day or two to get to the ferry that would carry them across the bay (14 hrs) to Kodiak with the trailer and dogs. (Did I mention 2 dogs, pit bulls?) The ferry was to leave last night (Sunday) at 9:30pm.($700)

Long story short here. The agent finally gets to the kids at about two on Friday (NY time). She tells them she'll have an adjuster there shortly. She does. The adjustor looks at the vehicle and says he'll probably suggest they total the car, but must have permission from NY before Tate and Amanda can be sure what to do next. Guess what? New York lady goes home. It is Friday afternoon after all and it really doesn't matter that two kids are stuck in the Yukon Territory (who knew that place even existed?) now until Monday.

Here's the caveat. The kids had taken what they thought was enough cash and were going to use credit cards for gas, hotels, etc. (Yes, probably our credit card. Don't judge me.) Well, in Canada, don't ja know, they don't like using credit cards because they are too cheap to pay the fees. (Kinda like the Dutch in Pella.) So they are very short on cash. They can't use there debit card either. They try to get a rental car. Can't take them out of Canada. We are talking about 800 miles yet to Anchorage, then another 5 hours to Homer where they are supposed to jump the ferry. They have enough money to eat. the young man, Eric and his wife drive Tate around to look for a vehicle, etc. Poor Amanda is stuck at the hotel with the dogs who take to loud barking and pooping on the floor if they are left alone. (You get the picture.)

On this end, Amanda's folks are trying to wire them money to buy a vehicle. ($12, 900) ( Nope. It was too late on Friday. They closed.) We told them to leave the trailer and we'd get them and the dogs tickets on a plane for Kodiak. They could go back later and retreive the truck. Had it all set up, but WOW! did you know that from May until September the airlines in Canada will NOT fly pets. They need the cargo space. Slap that solution.

Now it's late, late Friday night. The kids have run out of cash. They have no options left except to wait until Monday or Tuesday to see what might happen. Tate has to report before then to get housing. So at 2am on Friday night, Saturday morning, Michael and I hatch a plan. We'll fly Michael to Anchorage, get a truck with a hitch, and drive to get the kids, return to Anchorage, store the trailer in Anchorage on a Coast Guard base, fly them to Kodiak and that should solve the immediate problem. He gets set to leave on a 2:40pm flight on Sat. I will close the show at 3pm, he can cab it to the airport an hour or so sooner. Next glitch. He did not travel with his passport. I always do. Change of plans. I'm going to Alaska!

Just an hour before the show closes, I make Michael tear down my booth while I rush to the airport. I fly to Anchorage (total flight time from New Orleans about 9 1/2 hrs). I did mention that I only had 2 hrs sleep, right? I make a million phone calls trying to set up a rental car. ($47) No car allows towing. Enterprise finally reccommends Alaska 24 hr rental. They don't answer the phone. Enterprise reccommends 24 hr Auto Rental (see photo). A wonderful young man named Jesse booked me a truck then came to get me at the airport with one of his army buddies in his buddies personal car. They were so wonderful and sweet young soldiers to boot. I take the truck (broken windshield, cigarette burns in the seat, almost bald tires, no gas) but Jesse assures me the truck will make it without issue. ($385 for 2 days)

It's about 7:30pm Alaska time. I haven't eaten. I haven't slept but 2 hrs. I pull into the gas station just around the corner from the rental place, fill the truck, ($63.87). I look at a map. (There's only one road, the Alaska Highway) and start the 800 mile journey. No sooner had I put my foot on the gas pedal then does the "engine light" come on. I drive back to the auto dealer where the boys decide maybe I shouldn't take the truck. They are really so sweet, but they have no other vehicle to give me. Knowing my quandry, (they probably smelled it on me by now) they make a bunch of calls to try and help me. Finally they find a young man named Shawn at the Alaska 24 hr auto rental who says he has a car. The boys give me a ride and I sign up for the rental. (now $525). Shawn is so kind and reduces the $1000 plus rate down to $525 and allows me to drive across the border. The truck is huge. (broken windshield, decent tires, cigarette burns in the seats. Really, all the vehicles in Alaska look like this. I'll explain why in a minute.

About 4 hrs later than expected I hit the road. Or should I say, it hit me. Little known fact about Alaska and the Yukon Territory. At least little know to me. The one road they have is littered with humps and bumps and gravel and holes like the Department of Transportation had actually planned them out. I felt like I road a washboard the entire way. I didn't make it past about 60mph the entire way. Good news is, it stayed light for 19 hrs. I drove and drove and drove passing few cars, but loads of mountainous beauty. It felt like the northern equivilent to the Kentucky backwoods. I heard a banjo planning in my head more than once.

Gas is a real issue. I took everybodies warning and stopped at any hole in the wall when I saw a station open. I drove and drove. Every fillup is around $85.00. By now I've been sleep and food deprived for about 40 hrs. I'm starting to see things. I swore I saw a cluster of Moose. It looked like a bunch of antlers. Okay, it was late, I was hungry, it was probably one moose and a bunch of sticks. Now I've got to pee. No worry folks, just stop your vehicle, cop a squat right in the middle of the road because you aren't going to see a car....ever.

I drive and drive. It's 2:30am. I have crossed the Canadian Customs. The agent asks, "What are you doing in Canada?" I reply, "Here Iam to save the day, you know it's Mighty Mom, she's on her way!" She stares for just a moment, then waves me on. Like this happens every day!

The roads change to dirt, like Canada can't afford pavement. Then again, their health care is not so great either. It's raining. I arrive in Beaver Creek. The sky is finally a shade of dark like just before the sun really disappears. I'm not good in the dark and I'm fried. I pull into a small "hotel" lot. The sign says full. I ask if I can use the restroom and park in the driveway. (Very loose term) The bathroom is shared amongst the twelve rooms. You can tell it must be all men who use the toilet. (Floor puddles, the seat's up)

I get into the back seat of the truck and pull the stolen United airlines blanket over me. (I knew I'd never find a hotel.) The seat belt is poking into my belly, and I've wadded up the clothes I brought with me. (I did mention that New Orleans temperture was over 100 degrees.) It drops to forty. I have a pair of short socks over my feet, my sleeveless top rolled into a pillow and the stolen United blanket covering me. I sleep for two hours. At 4:30am the sun beats through my window and wakes me. It's light so I must be rested I think and hit the road again. I ride on torn up and gravel roads the rest of the way arriving in Whitehorse at 10am. Michael is near panic at home, helpless. I have no phone service. I think they use tin cans up here.

The kids are ready. Tate takes the truck and hooks up the trailer, empties what they can resuce from the Hummer, while I grab a quick bite to eat at the hotel. We take off again. I'm in the back seat listening as the kids go through everything that happened. I was so proud of them, but they had just run out of solutions. The road is getting worse and worse. It's still raining. The dogs are getting car sick. I'm getting car sick. Tate stops and lets me drive. I drive all by about 50 miles back. We arrive last night into Anchorage at about 1am. No one has slept. We did find a hot dog at a gas station. 16 hrs again. They have missed their boat. The hotel won't allow dogs so Tate sleeps in the truck with them. ($199) At 4:30 Amanda wakes Tate and they work rearranging the trailer, taking the things they will need in Kodiak. I stay out of their way until 6:05
am. Tate is booked for a 7:10am flight to Kodiak. He is to go ahead, get checked in and try to get housing. Amanda will follow at 3pm with the dogs. That will give her and I time to get the trailer to the Coast Guard base. I say, "Buddy, you've got to get to the airport." "Mom, I've got to finish packing then take a shower yet!" Oh, I see this coming. "Son, you'll miss your flight! We just paid $300 to get you a ticket. You'll lose it if you don't get there. You need time to check in (3 bags $125) and go through security. By now we were hemmoraging money.

Next thing I see is a suitcase being heaved into the air and my son's temper going off. He's changing his clothes in the parking lot. Amanda is silent. This kid is no match for me. I'm a Mom. "Son, you can throw a fit, but you better drag your butt into that car...Now!" Amanda has booked him on Alaska airlines which it the first airline we get to. I drop him off. He apologizes. He's a good kid, just really frustrated with everything that has gone on and by having to leave Amanda behind to handle the dogs. My flight is scheduled for 2pm. Amanda's for 3pm.

I watch Tate walk away with three huge bags draped over him. He looks like a pack mule. He has hugged me so tight and thanked me so much still apologizing for getting mad. I understand. I slide some cash into his hand. I watch him walk away and I want to run after him and hold him like he was the little boy I still remember. "It'll be okay, Som. God is in control."

I go back to the hotel and Amanda has received a call from Tate. Alaska Airline has no reservation for him. Amanda gives him the confirmation number. It's for another airline. He is down to less than 30 minutes to takeoff. He has to run the entire terminal to the other end of the building with the luggage. He makes it. Amanda gets the directions for the Coast Guard station. 15 miles away. I suggest we stop by the airport to buy her ticket so another mistake can be avoided. The dogs have to have special paperwork. She will fill it out. We'll have plenty of time to drop off the trailer, drop off the rental car, feed and water the dogs, shower, eat. She comes flying out of the terminal. "The 3pm flight is sold out. the only flight is at 9:55am with room for the dogs." It is 7:45.

We drive like maniacs to the Coast Guard base. I would not be able to do it without her as she has military ID. We have a nice young man help us put the trailer near a woodline. He leaves us with a warning. "Yeah, we've had a few things broken into and stolen, but I'll try and keep an eye on this for you." We race back to the hotel to get her luggage. I feed, water, and drug the dogs. I want to take their drugs myself. We rusah to the airport where the line is long for Amanda to check in. She rushed out. We circle the airport to the baggage claim area. She runs in the dogs one at a time, then rushes out to gather her luggage and hug me goodbye. I watch her run away. I am grateful she makes my son so happy. I sit in the truck and praise God for getting us here safely, for the kindness of so many strangers and for the new life ahead for the kids.

I get back to the hotel by 10am. My flight is at 2pm. I finally shower, find food and drive the truck back to the rental place. John, Shauns' dad, drives me back to the airport offering to help Tate and Amanda when they have to come back to Anchorage next week to buy a vehicle. I am so amazed by the kindness of the Alaskan people.

I am in San Francisco writing this tonight. I have a four hour layover and will leave here at 11:55pm Pacific Time. I fly from here to Chicago, then Des Moines. I'll arrive at about 7:50am where my buddy, Anna and my boss, Mike will meet me and take me to work. I'll work today and Michael will come up and pick me up tonight. I'm hoping to sleep on this next flight though I did catch myself snoring from Anchorage to here.

I'll take Wednesday off to get my packing done for my upcoming New York trip on Thursday. Forgive me for such a long blog, but as a parent you'd have done the same thing. Don't forget about Alaska 24 hr car rental if you ever get to Anchorage. Shawn and his dad John are the best!

I will never forget this adventure! The scenery was spectacular as were the people. Though I had no time for anything more than running, it was good to be with the kids (captive audience). Alaska is beautiful as is the Yukon. Neither have good roads. No place for motorcycles either. Still a place to see before you die!

P.S. I returned the stolen United blanket on the flight from Ancorage to San Francisco last night:)! I'm home and sleeping for the next two days!

Attitude is Everything

2010-07-09T09:43:00.000-05:00

I am on the road in New Orleans. I'm already beginning the reading and research for the next step of the MFA program. B

Back to the residency a bit as I'd like to share the wonderful experience of having a professional outside reader commentate on my writing. My read was Literary Agent, Chris Tomasino of the New York Tomasino Literary Agency. Her photo is above. She has a great reputation in the business world and has represented authors like ?????? She not only read my book, but had another agent read it as well. They pooled their thoughts and presented me with a six page review!

Boy! I think I was the luckiest student in the program as some students received a one or two page review. The school gave us our reviews on Monday night, allowing us to digest the information or run off wailing into the night! I read mine, took a walk, got on my knees to thank the Lord for Ms. Tomasino's great review and had a great night. With that said, it was no love fest, Ms. Tomasino pointed out what my Des Moines reading group saw, (yeah, Des Moines!) then proceeded to give me advice on how to fix the issues I have been having with structure and time. The honesty I recieved from such gracious lady is s appreciated! On Thursday, I got to sit with Chris face to face and talk through her review. it was an incredible experience, one I am going to learn from! http://www.tomasinoagency.com/

So with that, as you write, learn not to take critiques on your work personally, Learn from the experts and keep a good attitude. the writing life is a long lonesome road full of ups and downs, but so well worth it!

More on the MFA Program

2010-07-04T16:56:00.002-05:00

The photo above is of Phil Brady, author and poet. http://www.philipbrady.com/. One only has to hear Phil recite one of his works like ,To Prove My Blood: A Tale of Emigrations & The Afterlife (Ashland Poetry Press 2003) and By Heart: Reflections of a Rust-Belt Bard (University of Tennessee Press 2008). Also he co-authored an edition Critical Essays on James Joyce’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man with James F. Carens (Twayne, 1998), to know you are in the prescence of a genius.

On Monday and Tuesday of the residency, we spent out days in craft classes working on the business side of the writing world. We learned to craft good pitch letters (known as query letters), author bio's, and synopses (short descriptions of out work.) Learning this part of the process gets a writer thinking about what to do with the work once it is ready to be published.

We worked on punctuation and had the MFA program explained in detail for us. We also had the pleasure of listening to Phil Brady, a poet and orator, one of the few brilliant people who recites every work he has from memory. Everyone loves this class.

Monday night we watched screenplay writer and producer, Michael Mailer's (Norman Mailer's son) film, The Golden Boys, which starred Rip Torm, Bruce Dern, Mariel Hemingway and David Carradine (his last film). It was an honor to have him share the film with us. http://www.michaelmailerfilms.com/past.html

On Tuesday night we listened to readings from poet Tony Morris, authors David Poyer, John Bowers, poet, Christine Gelineau, YA author, Cecelia Galante, authors, Lenore Hart, Robert Mooney, Nancy McKinley and poet, Phil Brady. What talent!

More on the rest of the full week coming later.

For work, check out the website for The Santa Fe Writing Project. http://www.sfwp.com/ This site is for the craft of writing and hosts a contest you are sure to like. Get to it!

Residency Days Two and Three

2010-07-01T20:26:00.000-05:00

Writers love these kinds of days when the pressure is on and you don't want to make a fool of yourself. On the first few days we get to listen to our classmates, as well as the classes before us and behind us read cuttings of the work they have accomplished over the past semester, It's exciting standing in front of everyone, hoping they like your work, but wondering if you'll ever be as good as the works coming from others.

I had the priviledge of reading first, a task I didn't mind though I probably whined a bit about it to someone:) The room stills and everyone gives you their full attention. You read, looking for the body language that says they are interested...or not. When you are done, you wait again, ever insecure about the work you've created. The crowd always bursts into spontaneous applause, like you're a somebody! It's the greatest feeling!

You walk to your seat, a little less afraid of why you chose to put yourself in this kind of debt or put yourself through this kind of self-doubt. Then a fellow writer leans over and puts their hand on your knee and says, "That wowed me!" and you thank God that he has been there all along, pushing words from your head into your hand. That's what writers do! The MFA program is about the commaradarie that only other writers can understand. They know you have leveled your guts and thrown out everything you have for the readers praise or pity.

Speaking of writers, the photo today is of Kaylie Jones, author and daughter of Jack Jones who wrote From Here to Eternity. Kylie is a wonderful author in her own right. Her latest book is a newly released memoir titled, Lies My Mother Never Told Me. A good read! Visit Kaylie at http://www.kayliejones.com/. How lucky are we to be able to share wonderful conversations and friendships with writers like Kaylie!

Check out the latest contest from Hope Clark's Funds for Writers! If you haven't yet joined Funds for Writers, this is the month to do so! You won't regret it. It's full of great advice, fun and contests that will test your writing stamina! Go to http://www.fundsforwriters.com/ .

2011 MINOTAUR BOOKS/ MYSTERY WRITERS OF AMERICA FIRST CRIME NOVEL

COMPETITION

http://us.macmillan.com/Content.aspx?publisher=minotaurbooks&id=4933

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NO ENTRY FEE

The Competition is open to any writer, regardless of nationality,

who has never been the author of a published novel (authors of

self-published works may enter, as long as the manuscript submitted

is not the self-published work) and is not under contract with a

publisher for publication of a novel. Only one manuscript entry is

permitted per writer. All manuscripts must be original, previously

unpublished works of book length (no less than 220 typewritten pages

or 60,000 words) written in the English language by the entrants.

Murder or another serious crime or crimes is at the heart of the

story. If a winner is selected, Minotaur Books will offer to enter

into its standard form author's agreement with the entrant for

publication of the winning manuscript. After execution of the

standard form author's agreement by both parties, the winner will

receive an advance against future royalties of $10,000. Deadline

November 13, 2010.

Talent, Talent, Everywhere!

2010-06-28T21:20:00.001-05:00

For anyone who wants to be a writer, consider a low-resdicency MA or MFA program. I started at Wilkes University not understanding the scope of what I'd learn with mentors and authors whose fame was not bragged about. Last Friday night, I had a Master's Degree bestowed on me by the University amidst such famous authors as Jeff Talarigo, author of The Pearl Diver and The Ginsing Hunter, both spectacular works, Kaylie Jones, author of her new memoir, Lies My Mother Never Told Me, and my mentor, Sara Pritchard, author of Crackpots & Lately.

The photo above is of John Bowers, author of the new book, Love in Tennessee and brand new "tweeter". Take look at their books and enjoy the website they all have! Tweet@JBowersAuthor
More in a day or so!

Wow! What a Ride!

2010-06-27T12:09:00.000-05:00

I'm back home in Iowa and ready to get back on the horse tomorrow! Short post today, but just a note to tell you all I had an awesome experience which I'll start sharing tomorrow! My boy and his wife are visiting for the next few days as they head to their next base in Alaska, so I need to devote a bit of time to them. But starting tomorrow evening, I'll walk you through the past week, it's ups and downs and the culmination of receiving my Masters in Creative Writing Degree.

Thanks to all who have been so supportive! I could feel your prayers! Oh and I LOVE my IPAD!!!! Having a ball with it!
Talk to you shortly!

News From Wilkes University!

2010-06-20T06:34:00.001-05:00

Just a quick post to day to keep you up to date. First, to be amongst other writers is such a blessing! Everyone is chatting about their projects and the tough semester we just came out of. The support here is incredible!

I was the first reader yesterday for our Master's Capstone! It was exciting to read a piece of the book and get such a great response from the audience. My whole cohort that read yesterday was outstanding! We enjoyed a program with "the new kids" last night then our cohort went for pizza, catching up on each other's lives.
Today we head back for more readings all day and one craft class on "Social Networking for the Writer". Should be fun! Tonight the mentors, all fabulous authors in their own right will be reading at Barnes and Noble. This is the part we all love! The days are long, but so fulfilling! Just to be amongst other writers that understand how tough the writing life can be is encouraging!

The photos are all from campus. Sara Pritchard, author of "Crackpots" is my mentor. We had the photo above taken after my reading. She's a peach and a very talented and caring friend!

Monday evening we get our manuscripts back from our professional readers with notes and comments! That's when the "fun" begins! I'll be in touch!

What to do with a Bidet

2010-06-17T19:14:00.000-05:00

I find myself in some pretty exotic places. Kansas City, St Louis, Minneapolis. While I'm travelling I often come across things I've not quite had the pleasure of seeing before. Imagine my surprise to find a leg shaving device. I think every hotel in America should have. They call it a bidet. (Really, I've seen them before.)

The bellman made a big deal of showing it to me. "Why there, Madam, is your private bidet!" As if I'd be inviting in a host of others to watch me while I use it. It made me wonder. Did others have a private bidet or did they have to share it with the room next door? Did they use it for shaving their legs like I did or did they do something much more ominous with it?

I was curious, so I asked the bellman. "Sir? Does every room have a bidet or must they share it.?"

"Oh, no Madam. Only certain rooms have a bidet," he said shaking his head rapidly back and forth. For a moment I thought he was having a seizure and almost lurched at him.

"Certain rooms?" I asked inquizzitivly? I began to think that maybe they saw extra dirt on the back of my pants when I arrived. I twisted in front of the mirror inspecting my trousers. No dirt. A speck of a chocolate raisen, but no dirt.

"The special rooms, Madam," he said as though I had ridden the short bus with the tinted windows to the hotel. "For special people." He grinned widely and moved slowly toward the door.

I get out a lot, but I'm still scratching my head on this one. Did he know me as a child? He seemed to look at me the way my siblings do in that knowing fashion that shouts loudly...."You're adopted! You're special!" (You know who you are:)

Is it just because I think outside of the box? Honestly, what use can two toilets in the same space really be? What, are we taking our spouses in there with a glass of wine while one does number two then moves to the butt shower while the other one does their thing? Is that a romantic night out?

I just don't get it. So I used the ceramic dish for somthing quite appropriate. Shaving my legs. It had a little fountain that shot right up to the ceiling with faucets that showered me with both hot and cold water. It was a good use for something so silly. Don't judge me!

I'm headed to school tomorrow! Pray for me as this will be a tough week. Proudly and though God's grace I'll come home with a Master's Degree in Creative Writing. Blogging might be scarce as the days are long, but I'll see what I can do! Have a good week!

School is Right Around the Corner, Plus Flashback Tips!

2010-06-15T18:47:00.000-05:00

Residency is only a few days away and I'm getting anxious to get out there and finish this part of the program. A lot of the people I started out with are taking another semester to finish their projects so they won't be at this residency. Several more are stopping at this point to get on with the lives they've put on hold for the last year-and-a-half. I've decided to move on to the completion of the MFA or Master's of Fine Arts. It is the terminal degree, in other words, for this subject, it's as far as one can go. It will take oe more year, but as fast as this past year has gone, I believe it's worth it. Michael and my family have been great encouragers and God's grace in my life has been something I can hardly understand.

So tonight, I'm sitting here goig over everything I need to take with me to make sure I'm ready. I can confess I'm a little bit scared, but then again that only drives me to my knees. I'm a whole lot grateful to know that for some unknown reason, I can do this! I'm a writer!

Now for work. Flashbacks are a tool writers use to show the reader a part of the past while telling a story in the present. You give the reader a sense that they are going back by using transistions, or signals, that they are where you, the writer, meant them to be. If they find the transistion jerky, it may stop the reader from continuing. I should know as I've made this mistake:) Learning to make smoothe transistions can propel the reader back to a time where the memory of the character is clear.

For instance, here's an excerpt from my book Tobique. Emily is the main character. John is her grandfather. I've italisized the flashback for effect.

The Tobique, too, appeared changed, its waters emptied of the shaven logs that once bumped, lurched and latched into diving pools for the adventurous children of Plaster Rock. Its flow shifted easily, as though unfettered and unhurried by the long gone, surging timber.

Groups of dandelion puffs floated above the water, bobbing across the water like parachutes, touching, rising, then sinking into the face of the slow-moving current. The gliding seeds united with various drifting debris in shallow pools along the shoreline. Standing above the red banks of the river, the tiny clouds of white reminded Emily of Reverend Pike’s mushroom clusters of saved souls.

She cocked her head to remember the strains and steady beat of clapping hands of those who stood on the river banks to sing hymns of praise as sinners were washed clean in the river.

A fish jumped, then splashed a sphere of reentrance, the movement sending a circle of water rippling toward shore. Emily imagined tiny fish along the river’s murky edge. She closed her eyes and felt the many summers of joy spent wading there while polliwogs flitted between her toes. Though the wind was gentle in its blowing, she huddled her arms close to her body and allowed a warm memory to cover her.

In late spring he always took her fishing. Trout. Downriver, she and her grandfather donned tall green rubber boots and waded into a shallow cutting of the river. The morning was crisp, the water cool through the rubber, chilling her feet like the water bottle her grandmother used to bring down a fever.

They’d stop to pull fiddleheads from the green clumps lazing along the banks of the Tobique, the scroll-like ferns punching from the soil. Emily filled her tiny bucket with the treat that went so well with fresh fish, then followed her grandfather to the edge of the river.

John tugged the handmade canoe to a felled log, securing it in the shade for seven-year-old Emily to play in while he fished. He rubbed his callous hand across the top of her head, shaking it back and forth as he cautioned her about respecting the Tobique. He shared stories of the near-misses of his own mistakes on the river, and of his baptism beneath the watery skin. He settled her in the boat and prepared his lure before pushing into the quick moving current.

Two Contests from Funds for Writers

2010-06-14T21:23:00.000-05:00

This week is a bit crazy! I worked today, am off tomorrow to get packed and ready for my residency at Wilkes University. I have to take two copies of the final manuscript with me, as well as the other projects due. It's exciting and a bit scary all at once. The blg will be light for a few days, but I'll always find time to drop a note and let you all know how things are going. For now, don't forget to check out Funds for Writers where these next two challenging contests came from. Have a good night!

INTERNATIONAL THREE-DAY NOVEL CONTEST

http://www.3daynovel.com/about/?contest

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$50 ENTRY FEE

Can you produce a masterwork of fiction in three short days? The

3-Day Novel Contest is your chance to find out. For more than 30

years, hundreds of writers step up to the challenge each Labour

Day weekend, fuelled by nothing but adrenaline and the desire for

spontaneous literary nirvana.

1st Prize: Publication*

2nd Prize: $500

3rd Prize: $100

*The first prize winner will be offered a publishing contract by

3-Day Books after the winner announcement in the January following

the contest. Once the contract is signed, the winning novel will be

edited, published and released by the next year's contest. 3-Day

Books are distributed by Arsenal Pulp Press. Paid registration must

be in the mail by the Friday before the contest (Sept. 3, 2010).

=====

HUNGER MOUNTAIN CREATIVE NONFICTION PRIZE

http://www.hungermtn.org/hunger-mountain-creative-nonfiction-prize/

---

$20 ENTRY FEE

One first place winner receives $1,000 and publication! Two

honorable mentions receive $100 each. Deadline September 10, 2010.

Submit one piece of creative nonfiction, not to exceed 10,000 words.

Writing must be original, written in English.

What a Weekend!

2010-06-13T20:51:00.000-05:00

Just got home from a working weekend, but what a great time! First the Emerson Drive Concert on the most fantastic night I've seen in years, then Friday night a dinner with the 50 plus year graduates from Logan Chiropractic College. It was wonderful hearing how these doctors have done so much for so many people all of these years. Then last night I attended a formal private Chris Botti concert. He is a concert trumpetist who used to open for "Sting". The music was magical and the evening truly enchanting! Take a look at his website.
http://www.chrisbotti.com/

Hang in there with me. Tomorrow, I'll have a few new contests to share!

Friends and Family

2010-06-11T22:25:00.000-05:00

I'm in St Louis. The campus I am on is so beauiful and full of surprises this weekend. We were treated to a private concert with the great country band, Emerson Drive, who wowed the crowd! After the concert we ate a six foot birthday cake celebrating Logan College of Chiropractic College's 75th Anniversary! Dr. George and Liz Goodman were the kind and generous host of this fabulous event. I was invited to a dinner tonight with graduates who had fifty or more years in chiropratic. It was an amazing time listening to the encouraging words of these warriors. Tomorrw night we get to attend a concert by Chris Botti, jazz trumpeter. It'll be a black tie affair wth some wonderful new friends.

But today, I learned the true measureof a family that loves each other. My whole life I have felt somewhat responsible for being the family "instigator". A middle child of eight kids, I was often the tattletale or the one that stirred the family trouble pot. I never felt as needed as I saw my oldest brother, Milton, being, as committed and faithful as my second oldest brother Kent, has always been, as adventurous as my oldest sister, Peggy is, as smart and gentle as my older sister, Sue, is, as quietly full of grace as my younger sister Beth is, as fun as my youngest brotherJ eff is or as tenderhearted as my youngest sister Tanya is. I always felt a bit left out, like I had to try so hard to make anyone notice me. Of course, my family didn't help that feeling by telling me I was adopted!

But last night, a package arrived with a gift for my graduation from all of them. It was a new Ipad! The gift was something I wanted so much, but I had no idea that they were going to give one to me. My husband had kept the secret, so the package was a complete surprise. As I tore the paper from the package, I felt like a "special" little girl, a feeling I can never remember having as a child. As I held the computer in my hands, then read the hilarious note, I bowed my head and praised God for my siblings. I must have cried for a half an hour. I felt so unworthy and humble receiving such a wonderful gift from this precious group of extraordinary people. I honestly cannot believe I am worthy of their love.

When I was a child I could never forsee the grace God would bestow on me, but now, on the eve of my graduation, here he is again, surrounding me with his love through my generous family. I shall never be able to explain to them the depth of their gesture. I feel so encouraged, so loved and I just wanted to take this moment to tell everyone!

What a great day! No work tonight as I'm still crying:)

Here's a Short Story Titled "Invisible"

2010-06-09T21:24:00.000-05:00

INVISIBLE

Nobody saw her.

Midnight. She heard the struggle. A muffled scream. Someone gagging like hands were choking away life. A final gasp, then a body slumping to the ground. She didn’t move from beside the dumpster, instead burrowed deeper into the discarded plastic bags.

“Come on Billy. He’s dead.” Feet shuffling. New leather clapping on the alley pavement, tapping quickly toward the street.

She waited, her breath shallow. Silence.

She pulled herself from the trash pile and shuffled from behind the bin to the body.

Merely a boy. Brutally beaten. Shot six times. Barely recognizable. Pockets turned inside out as though the perpetrators were searching for something. Slumped against the dumpster, his head pushed forward to his chest. One hand flung back against the cement wall, a tattoo of a snake needled in his wrist. Still bleeding. She looked closer. Familiar.

Brrriiinnnggg! Brrriiinnnggg! Brrriiinnnggg! Brrriiinnnggg!

She craned her head around, eyeing the cell phone lying in the middle of the alley.

Six hours later she was on the street, the night behind her. Forgotten. She arrived at Benny’s Bakery and gathered the Pepsi he always had waiting for her outside. She waved at him through the window. He gave a nod.

She had a brace choking her chubby neck. Her legs were wide and covered with white pants that looked like someone had sprayed dirty snow over orange rinds. She limped along, one foot bound in a sneaker, the other covered only by a grey athletic sock. When she walked, she drug her left foot as though she were hobbled. She carried a Pepsi in her left hand and brought it to her lips, sucking in a tiny sip, pulling it from her face then pushing it back to her open mouth immediately for another draw. It was like watching a wind-up doll, walking, sipping, walking, sipping as though her arm had to pump the can to her face in unison with her leg.

When she stopped, she’d sniff the air and look around, her big nose bobbing up and down like she was tracking an escaped prisoner. Now and again, she’d lift up her sneaker and dig at dog poop that wedged itself in the one rubber sole. She’d pound her leg on the pavement, trying to free the last clump, then give up and limp on.

People raced by, heads down, never eye contact. Most afternoons she’d wait at the bus stop pretending she had somewhere to go, someone to see, something to do. When she was hungry, she’d dig in the trash cans in the subways, always full of discards. She only remembered ever being hungry once in her life. Before.

She’d been on the street for six years. She got in the car the day she buried them, but never drove home, leaving the car near the river. Empty. Nothing to go home for.

Kevin had been twelve. Jenny seven. Her husband Tom arrived home from work two hours past his normal time. Sweating. Cursing. Mad. His boss, Bill Jansen wanted to hire his son to take over the Sales Manager position, currently held by Tom. Tom was expected to train the punk, then work for him. There’d be a raise. He’d quit. Walked out, leaving Bill and his son open-jawed.

“You’re nothing !” the kid yelled at the back of Tom’s head. “You won’t get away with this!”

She’d gotten up in the middle of the night, unsettled. She’d gone to the driveway to get the purse she’d forgotten in the car. Sleeping pills.

The sound of glass spewing everywhere. Screams. Gunfire. She stood with her face pressed to the front window. Paralyzed. Two bodies dressed in dark clothes plummeted down the stairs and out the back door, she’d told the police. A sliver of light from a flashlight illuminated one of the men’s forearms. Tattoo of a snake. No faces. She pressed into the darkness of the front porch. Nobody saw her.

The bedrooms, splattered with her family’s blood. Pin dots of crimson decorating the daisies in her daughter’s room, the little girl left hugging her Barbie. Kevin, hiding in his closet, crouched, arms hugging his knees, head gone from his shoulders.

Her husband riddled with bullets, sprawled like a slaughtered deer, head flapping back on the bottom of the bed.

Pictures. Pictures. Flashbulbs. Yellow Tape. Lineups. Silence.

“Do you recognize anyone, Mrs. Slater? Were there any distinguishing marks?”

Silence, every day since.

Brrrriiinnnggg! Brrriiinnnggg!

The sound startled her. She slipped her hand into her torn pocket. She stared at the screen, its face lit with numbers. Dad. She punched at the buttons until she heard him on the other end.

“Is he dead?”

Silence.

“Billy? Is he dead?”

Silence.

“Who is this?”

Click.

She stared at the phone. Searing pain. The voice. She’d heard it at the funeral home. Bill Jansen. Paying his respects.

For six years she’d replayed that night in her head. Restlessness had saved her life. No clues. No suspects.

The tattoo. She forgotten the tattoo. Billy. He’d reached out to shake her hand at the funeral home, a sliver of a tattoo on his left forearm peeking from under a crisp white shirt. How had she missed that? She forgotten the tattoo.

It was close to midnight before the light bounced back and forth across the alleyway. Her shadow hugged the doorway, cloaked in dark. The flashlight passed without noticing. His back was facing the street when the baseball bat struck. Once. He slumped next to the dumpster. She pushed at him with a shoeless foot. He moaned. Rolled. She made sure he saw her before the next blow. A smile. He lifted his hand to shield his face. A snake tattooed on his forearm. Again. Again. Again. Again.

Nobody saw her.

Brrriiinnnggg! Brrriiinnnggg!

“Hello?”

“Hey, is Billy there?”

“I just found him in the alley beside Benny’s Bakery on 34th and 7th. His phone was laying beside him. He’s conscious, but maybe I should call the cops.”

“No—I—uh, I’m his father. There’s money in it if you wait with him. I’ll be right there.”

Twenty minutes later, a car door slams. Footsteps tapping the pavement toward the dumpster.

“Billy?”

A flashlight slaps the body. Billy’s crumpled face beaten beyond recognition. Arm thrown back against a pile of garbage bags. Tattoo of a snake on his forearm. Lifeless.

Whump.

First hit behind his knees. He crumples.

Whump.

A bone bursts through his skin. Blood spurting, then streaming a path to his feet. Eyes roll back in his head. Flutter close.

Whump. Whump. Whump.Whump.

Morning news. Two bodies found in an alley on 34th and 7th. Father and son. Beaten to death. No motive. No clues.

Pictures. Pictures. Flashbulbs. Yellow Tape. Lineups. Silence.

She shuffles to Benny’s Bakery. Seven-thirty a.m. She picks up a Pepsi he’s left outside for her. She waves. He nods.

She limps along, her Pepsi in her left hand, sucking in a tiny sip, pulling it from her face then pushing it back to her open mouth immediately for another draw. It’s like watching a wind-up doll, walking, sipping, walking, sipping as though her arm has to pump the can to her face in unison with her leg.

People race by, heads down, never eye contact.

Nobody sees her.

St Louis and a Writing Tip on Romance

2010-06-08T21:21:00.000-05:00

I'm in St Louis, home of the big arch. No, I won't be near it, so you'll have to envision itor look it up on the web! I'm posting a few more pictures from Seneca Falls. Photos of a lovely winery where I had lunch. The vineyards were spectacular, something upstate New York is known for. Go visit. They have a wine trail, but more importantly is being able to enjoy the beauty God created there! Have fun!

I just finished reading Writers Digest, a great magazine filled with a million tips on writing different genres. This month they talked bout Romance Writing and the five characteristics of compatible mates in romantic fiction. I'll sre the brief version, then go buy the magazine! W need to support these craft magazines!

Here are some the the driving characteristics of romance.
          1. Happily Ever After- Conclude your writing with a hopeful outcome. Everybody believes in a fairy tale ending.
          2. Variety-Writing romance is not the same old story over and over. Mix the elements of craft and come up wth something fresh for the reader.
          3. Romantic Tension- Create a desire between the heronine and hero that can be felt by the reader.
          4. Moraioty eflective of the Majority- That means monogamous relationships, good citizens and supportive family values.

These are the keys to good romance writing!

It's A Wonderful Life!

2010-06-06T19:59:00.001-05:00

I'm in Seneca Falls, New York! The home of Woman's Sufferage and the movie stage for "It's A Wonderful Life." As a child I so remember Clarence, the angel, helping out George Bailey, (Jimmy Stewart) through a tough time in his life.

Here in Seneca Falls, a visitor can walk across the bridge Clarence jumped from, visit Zuzu' s Coffee Shop,(owned by the woman who played the character of daughter, Zuzu) and enjoy the wonderful sculpture garden that runs along the beautiful Cayuga-Seneca Canal. New York Chiropractic College plays a wonderful part in this community, hosting the Woman's Hall of Fame awards every year. I love this part of New York and it's location amidst the vineyards of upstate New York. A great place to visit!

As for our work today, I found a website that may help you writers that enjoy screenplay or playwrite action. Try out http://www.script-o-rama.com/ . This site is a massive database of scripts for you to read, which we all know helps out writing! Enjoy!

A prompt and a post

2010-06-05T21:17:00.000-05:00

I am headed for New York for the next couple of days and will post upon my arrival. Keep writing my friends! Here's a prompt for your thoughts!

"You swore to me that you'd never tell Richard. He knows. You're the only one I told, Rachel. Now......"

Finish the thought an let the story take you somewhere special. Write at least 1000 words. Then post it here just for fun!

Cincinnati, Friends and the Southern Style

2010-06-04T21:04:00.003-05:00

I know it's been a week, but before we get down to work, I wanted to share the great weekend we had with our dear friends, Bruce & Bonnie. They recently moved to Cincinnati and we were their first visitors. The neighborhood they live in is a wonderful blend of old and new. (Note the photos) Quaint restaurants, boutique shops and bridges that took you across the river from Covington, KY (which is really where they live) to downtown Cincinnati. Enjoy the photos!

We walked and walked through a wonderful Farmer's Market, through the Taste of Cincinnati, through lovely riverside parks and tree lined streets, across at least five bridges, around an outdoor mall, you name it, we walked it! My feet are still dangling stubs at the end of my legs. We had a ball! We even had a chance to visit their children and grandchildren, which was such a rich and wonderful experience. To see how these kids have grown into such fine young people was a true blessing! A great time was had by all! Plus, Bonnie & I once again, beat the boys at Sequence!

Now, for the work part, I found an editor who is looking for "works that represent the entire range of the Southern experience, including all races, genders, and views on life." She accepts fiction, nonfiction and creative non-fiction.

The reading period is from March 15-June 15, and August 15-December 15, so time is short. 90% of her writers are new or emerging writers so this is a great opportunity for those of you who might write to the Southern way of life.

Contact Terry Kennedy at editor.terry@storysouth.com or http://www.storysouth.com/. Now go for it!

2010-06-02T22:03:00.000-05:00

As you might have noticed, I took a couple of days off for Memorial Day weekend, something I haven't done for the last seven years as I am usually working. Michael & I headed to Cincinnati, Ohio to visit Bruce and Bonnie, our dear friends from Elkhart who just moved to Ohio. We had an absolute ball! Got to see B & B's children and grandchildren whom we haven't seen in a long time. It was such a blessing!

Then got the good news that our dear friends, again from Elkhart had a new grandson! So good news all weekend! I left on Tuesday for Los Angeles, and then flew today to Minneapolis and home tomorrow! Busy week!

I'm down to two more stories for the contest my writing buddy, Gray, got me in to! I say that with great admiration for my friend, whose work ethic in writing is something I hope to emulate! She's a worker! Anyway, we have been writing 2500 word stories every two weeks since March. We do it to gain points. The person with the most points wins in July! Gray is ahead, but I'm working on her:)

Now on to work!

I had a friend ask me the other day how I feel about "pitch" conferences. For those who have as little understanding as I did before attending a "pitch" conference, I'll give you the rundown. First, I did everything about this writing life.....backwards. I googled "writing retreats" and found Michael Neff and Algonkian Writer Retreat in Washington DC. It was Michael who puts on The New York Pitch and Shop Conference in New York o that's how I got t e pitch conference I went to.

Now most people that went o the 3 day event (in Manhattan no less) actually went there with a completed manuscript in hand. Not Ginger! I went with an idea of a book! Next here's what happened over the course three days.
1. First, they take only 60 people. They break them into four teams of fifteen.

2. They take these fifteen people into a room and give them the “do's and don’ts” of pitching, allowing each person to practice their pitch in front of the others. They are critiqued by everyone.

3.Then you huddle in the crowded hallway and rewrite your pitch.

4. We were clumped into a room together to face a real live editor. We each got to "pitch" our story to the editor in front of the whole group. The editor gave his or her response to the pitch and everyone consoled or rejoiced with you.

5. Then we got to go back to the dingy hotel and rewrite the pitch.

6. The next day we huddled in the hallway as they call us, one at a time, into a room to face the next publisher/editor/agent. You are all alone.

7.You give your best pitch. The person on the other end of the table is barely twelve and more intelligent that you thought when you first saw the smirk wipe across their face when you entered the room. I swear they smell fear like a dog.

8. I tried to make them believe in the story I should have actually written. You have only 2 minutes to sell your idea, then POOF! you are sent packing to the next agent/publisher/editor.

9. So it goes until your four or five chances are up!

I was lucky enough to have two of the five publishers I spoke with ask for three chapter and a synopsis to the story. Let me remind you that the story had not been written, nor has it yet been written. I wasted a wonderful opportunity, but I have now begun the story.
Moral to this story, be prepared. Don’t spend your hard earned money on a conference if you’ve nothing prepared to send out immediately.

When you send it, make sure it’s been edited and formatted to the industry standards. They can spot a “wanna-be writer” a mile away.

On the other hand, if you are like I am, you might enjoy the good kick you’ll get if you are not prepared to deal with this wonderfully harsh world. I met a lot of good people. I learned a lot of what goes into writing AND it didn’t scare me off! So with that, I’d say do one! I actually loved it and plan on doing another one soon!

Go to http://newyorkpitchconference.com/ for more information. Tell Michael Neff, Ginger sent you He's a good guy!

Remembering My Freedom

2010-05-28T22:12:00.000-05:00

I’m leaving for Cincinnati tonight. Road Trip! I’m leaving a few pictures on the blog that say how I feel about the service of our soldiers, (mine included) to this nation. Take time to call a friend, neighbor or veteran to thank them for their service whether now or in the past.

I travelled one summer with my best friend to Europe shortly after graduating high school. It was during the Vietnam War. We were peace-niks, hippies at their best. No real knowledge about the war, just believing everything we saw on television. We wanted to be hip and cool and part of it all! We had a ball seeing new places, doing things, and meeting people to discuss the travesty of “our” war.

One conversation I will never forget was at the Haufbrau House in Munich, Germany. My best friend Ann and I were sitting at a long wooden table across from three old German men. The place was filled with oompah music, clinking beer mugs and the smell of sauerkraut and sausage.

When the old men heard we were from America, they started to speak in broken English. One man in particular took his hat off and placed it over his heart and said, “I can never repay the Americans who saved my families life.” We had to lean in to understand the old man’s words, but the tears on his face spoke volumes about his continuing passion for the American soldiers who had assisted the old man and his family during World War II. The other men nodded their heads and touched our hands in gratitude. At the end of the conversation we all hugged goodbye, tears streaming down every face. My attitude changed that day, about America, about our soldiers, about war.

I still believe that war is something none of us want to be part of. But so long as we are on this earth, there will be war. Our soldiers deserved to be honored for doing the right thing by the people they are helping. The gratitude and respect those old men had for our nations’ soldiers was ingrained in me that day. I returned home a few months later, landing in New York. When I got off the plane I kissed the ground. I realized just how proud I was to be an American.

I ended up marrying a good-looking soldier I met in Germany, at the same place I listened to the stories of those old men. He’s gone on to serve this nation as a Police Officer for over 30 years now. He’s also the greatest dad to our only son, Tate, a US Coast Guard soldier. So on this special weekend, honor those you’ve lost and those who serve remembering that we are one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all!

Parallel..A Very Short Story

2010-05-26T21:18:00.000-05:00

Parallel

This short story was an entry for a 100 word or less contest. Results are not yet in, but I did expand it for future use as a longer story.

PARALLEL

He did it for his father.

Rehab chokes the drugs from him. May help him go home again. His body writhes in pain. He fights to keep the needle from his arm. The love for his father battles the desire for the drugs.

His father, a cop, torn apart by the chasm the drugs creates between he and his only son, volunteers for the drug task force. One night, he takes a bullet in the chest from the whack-job dealer who’ll now be off the street for life. He doesn’t make it.

He did it for his son.

2010-05-24T18:12:00.000-05:00

I got out of bed this morning and ran up to the writing loft just because I have created the habit over the past year-and-a-half. Papers are strewn across both desks. My trash can looks like a cyclone of paper hit it. Books, pens, paper clips and assorted items are strewn everywhere. I just pushed back my chair and smiled! MY writing place!

I have to brag just a hair as Michael and I have always lived in the tiniest places. My old writing space was in a slant roofed attic, just barely big enough to get a desk and chair in. A nook, really. Since last June we moved into a condo in Pella. It’s huge to any standard we’ve ever had! We don’t own it, just rent, which is a marvelous thing at this point in our lives. Time is so valuable. Not having to mow or shovel snow is great! But the thing that sold us on this was that it has a terrific loft! I have two leather chairs, three bookcases and two desks. They are always full of my writings and book, but I am so blessed! Anyway, see the photos today!

For the next couple of days I’m taking my time to reorganize this space, setting it up for next semester’s challenge. I’ll have earned my Master’s Degree this June, but I’m moving on to the Master’s of Fine Art Program, a terminal degree. It’s one more year of intensity, but it will be worth the ride.
To all of those that have supported me along this journey, thank you! I have mentioned you in my acknowledgement page of my thesis. That means the family, and my great Des Moines reading group! We'll all be famous soon!:) (Think big!)

Oh! A thought! Another idea for the next book! Oh! I’ve got to write it down right now! Oh! See ya!

Also, I know this is a bit off the wall, but haveany of you ever wanted to do something really different? We subscribe to The Careaker Gazzette at http://www.caretaker.org/. We have a friend who is a caretaker for a well-to-do man. His job is to prepare the houses in different states for when the owner returns. There are jobs for houseeepers absentee owners, off-the-grid, etc., as well as hose swaps around the world. Thought someone might find this interesting! Enjoy!

The Manuscipt has been mailed to Wilkes!!!

2010-05-21T16:56:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was one of those days where you take a deep breath to finally relax….then ….WHAM!....here comes a feeling of terror!!

It happened just as I was placing my finished manuscript into the mailbox. It's on it's way to the outside professional reader. For the last several weeks, as you know, I’ve been writing and rewriting, so much so, that my husband asked, “Who are you?” when I came down from my writing loft one night.

My head has been down. I’ve been taking all of the great feedback I’ve gotten and moved pieces around, added, taken away until yesterday, at precisely 4:50 pm, I gave up and rushed the manuscript to the post office.

Right after I dropped it in, I heaved a sigh of relief. Then panic hit! I just sent off “my baby” to be kicked around again by yet another reader! What was I thinking? I stood there, jerking at the mailbox opening, sticking my arm down the mail chute, slapping my hand back and forth, back and forth until Mary, (the postal worker) shouted from clear across the room, “Ginger, stop that!”

“Mary, I need my manuscript back!”

“No, Ginger, let her go!” (I’d been keeping her up to speed on my adventure.)

“I can’t! She’s not ready! Maybe I missed something!

“She’s fine. Let her go!”

“I want her to be the best she can be, it’s baby, my manuscript!”

She walked to the mail bin and jerked it from the sack. She turned it over and over in her hands. As Roger, the postmaster walked by, she handed it to him. “Too late, Ginger, the baby’s gone.”

I sluffed out to the car and slid in.

“She wasn’t ready,” I thought. “She just wasn’t ready.”

I banged my head, over and over on the steering wheel until it looked like I had painted a red streak across the top of my face.

A minute later, Mary was banging on the window, my package in her hand.

“I couldn’t do it,” she said. “Maybe this baby does still needs you.”

I grabbed the package and hugged it to my chest, twisting back and forth with joy!

I looked back at Mary as she walked away. She had signs painted all over her back that read,

Missed opportunity

New challenge

Offer letter

Published author

Quitter

Good book

“Mary!” I yelled, flying from the car and running to catch her. She turned.

“I’m done. She’s ready to go on her own.”

It’s true. You create something. You give it your best, but if you don’t let it go, you’ll never know if what you did was good enough. So friends, write it, then let it go, getting on to some new venture that will show…..you are a writer! The baby will be fine.

Here’s an upcoming contest from Hope Clark!
2010 ELIZABETH SIMPSON SMITH SHORT STORY CONTEST

http://www.charlottewritersclub.org/Elizabeth%20Simpson%20Smith%20Contest.htm
ENTRY FEE $15 (members), $20 (non-members)
Deadline May 28, 2010. Send 3 copies of an original, unpublished
story between 1,500-4,000 words (one per author)

First Prize Award: $500.
Second Prize Award: $200.
Third Prize Award: $100.

A Short Break

2010-05-19T20:31:00.000-05:00

Hey All!
I am in crunch time for my thesis so I'll not be bloging for a couple of more days. Hang in there! Lots of good things coming! I'll be working on the first newsletter foryou due in June! By Friday, I should be back! Have a good one!
Go visit http://www.charmofhecarolines.com/ for fun updates!

A Great Day and a Little Encouragement

2010-05-17T22:54:00.000-05:00

I had a great day. First,I'm home! Got manuscript to Sarah for the last going over before I print it and send it to the professional reader. Many thanks to the Des Moines Reading Group for the assistance in helping me correct issues they noticed!

We had our employee retreat, where our company brought in Steve Young, author of the book "Micro-messaging". He gave some wonderful advice to us on "It's not just what you say, but how you say it and how others perceive what you say." If you haven't read it and don't work in a solitary room, you'll enjoy the comon sense approach to "reading" the real meaning of what others say to you and what you may be saying to them. A good read! I'm lucky to work at a place that cares so much about its employees!

Now, on to writing issues. When I started this blog, my goal was to offer a little advice to first time writers or people who have a dream! Now and then I get wonderful notes from you that lets me know that's what I'm doing. Today I got the following note that really touched me.

Good Morning Ginger!
You have been an inspiration to me through your creative new venture of writing! I wrote a short short story about my daughter's dolls & playmates when she was a child....I know sounds a bit crazy...but the reason for my madness is that I am giving her a baby shower next weekend. 30 years ago, I had packed and put away many of her dolls, stuffed animals etc. I washed them up in the washing machine, spruced up their clothing etc. They look terrific now. Anyway, I decided to write a short story from the dolls point of view, talking about their time with her and how they will soon be her daughter's playmates. I had a lot of fun writing it. Thanks for your Inspiration!
Joe

This blog is not about me. It's about you and what you can accomplish if you just put your pen to paper! So get out there and live your dream, taking time to encourage and help each other. It doesn't have to be a best seller. It just has to be your best try!

What is a Reverie?

2010-05-15T22:26:00.000-05:00

I learned something from Sarah today,that writers should know. I feel embarressed that I didn't. It's part of the craft of writing a good story.

Wha's a reverie!
According to the American Heritage Dictionary, a reverie is a state of abstracted musing; daydreaming. It's like your remembering something, thinking about the past or the future, outside of the context of the time you might be in. Here's an example of a reverie from my manuscript! (The reverie is in Italics)

She knelt before the simple gray marker identifying John and Ellen Polk. Just a few steps away rested Aunt Amy, stink-eye at ready, Emily supposed, that memory causing Emily to loosen a smile. She saw herself at six once more.

She had been crouched on the wooden pew, the skirt of her wide-bottomed dress hiked up over her head, unladylike. Aunt Amy was situated two pews behind her, across the aisle. Maureen hadn’t yet arrived with Darren, allowing Emily to walk to church with her older sister. Aunt Carol perched in the front pew cradling Paul in her lap. Ronnie Clouds sat behind the girls poking Emily in the back with his finger and popping pink bubble gum in her ear over the back of the pew.

The girl’s uncle, Pastor George Timmons, tapped on the pulpit to draw everyone’s attention to the first hymn, a rousing rendition of When We All Get to Heaven. Mrs. Campbell punched the piano keys with a gusto reserved for dance halls, while the congregation tapped their feet and smiled.

Aunt Amy wouldn’t take her eyes off the girl, who by now was standing on the seat of the pew, swinging her dress back and forth, up and down, her frilly white underwear eye level to Mr. and Mrs. King, who roosted two pews back. Every now and then Emily would jet her hand into her panties and rub her crotch, her face pinching in pain.

Stephanie tugged on her little sister’s arm, trying to settle Emily down. Emily’s little off-key voice got louder and louder as the music played on without end.

Parishioners were giggling and pointing. Pater Timmons was rolling his eyes and looking for some way to end the joyful child’s outburst. Ronnie stood and hauled out a tiny frog he’d been keeping inside of his shirt, intent on dropping it on Emily just to watch her scream.

He swung his head to the right, making sure no one saw what he was bent on doing. He twisted to the left in time to catch the old woman’s face, all scrunched up with anger, pointing her finger at him and then at Emily and signaling for him to sit down. His eyes widened. He knew of the elderly woman’s quick temper and fast hand. He pointed his finger at himself, waiting for an acknowledgment from the wrinkled old thing.

She shook her head side to side in quick succession, narrowed her eyes and pointed her crooked finger at the dancing girl in front of him. Emily. Relief washed over him as he stretched toward the girl, pulling hard on her upswept dress, his eyes never leaving Amy’s. Emily spun around, slapping down hard on Ronnie’s hand. Ronnie stuck his arm straight to his left, the wiggling legs of the tiny frog apparent to everyone around him. He pointed at the restless woman waiting in the pew across the aisle.

Emily stopped dead, her stare locked on that of her great aunt. She recognized the squinting gray eyes, slits that narrowed, squeezing tight with an anger that would swallow the little girl up. Stink-eye, her mother called it. A look that made even the wildest child tremble.

Howdy Cowboy!

2010-05-15T07:07:00.000-05:00

Howdy Cowboy!

If someone asked you to name one person you’ve always considered to be “the” best person to depict cowboys in the movies, you’d most probably name, John Wayne. Born Marion Robert Morrison in 1907, Wayne was the epitome of a real cowboy, a man’s man, good-looking, tall and a real American patriot. He had a swagger and a way with women. He was a gentleman and always won over the bad guy.

Well, I just had the chance to visit his boyhood home in Winterset, Iowa, yes, still the site of The Bridges of Madison County. It’s quite an honor to have so many wonderful iconic treasures in this state, this being one of them. John Wayne’s home sits without fanfare on a corner just a block off the main square of Winterset. It’s a tiny white clapboard house with four small rooms filled with memorabilia. A lovely woman gave us a ten minute tour, then allowed us to look through the house for another ten minutes, just barely enough time to soak up such rich items as personal photos and letters from friends like Lucille Ball and Bob Hope.

The town is preparing for the 50th anniversary of the movie, The Alamo. His daughter Aissa Wayne will be in attendance to dedicate the new bronze statue the family has donated to Winterset. It will be positioned in front of the new visitors center just a half a block from John Wayne’s House. Click here for more information. A tribute to a western icon!

Visit http://www.johnwaynebirthplace.org/

Sometimes You Just Need a Love Story

2010-05-13T20:46:00.000-05:00

Today, I happen to be celebrating 38 years of loving the same man. It's our anniversary. I spent the day travelling to Chattanooga, TN via Atlanta, GA. Michael spent the day driving to and from Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Both of us are wondering why we are so far apart.

I met him in Munich, Germany on my 18th birthday. He was bent over a cigarette machine (yes he quit). He was a Green Beret and in a very nice fitting uniform. I grabbed the arm of my girlfriend and said, "Look at that rear end, THAT'S the man I'm going to marry!" Two days later he proposed. We were laying on the grass watching the stars, stars so bright you could pluck them from the sky. He was a perfect gentleman. I said yes before I even knew his real name. They called him "Ski". I've never stopped loving him.

So even though this day is a bit lonesome for both of us, the years it has taken us to get to this place, the ups and downs, the good and bad have all made ours such a rich love. God had a plan we couldn't see back then, but we now know how blessed we are to have each other. Happy Anniversary my Sweet!

And for those writers who might like to embark on a career of writing romance, head on over to the Romance Writers of America for some great tips on this genre! After all, everyone needs a little romance!

http://www.rwanational.org/cs/about_rwa

Back by Popular Request

2010-05-12T17:11:00.002-05:00

From Maine to California, I've had requests to post this picture just one more time! It will be gone by morning! Enjoy!

The Bridges of Madison County and Formatting a Manuscript

2010-05-11T18:52:00.001-05:00

Nothing brings to mind a forbidden love quicker than the Book or Movie of "The Bridges of Madison County." I happen to live less than an hour away and have never had the chance to visit until this weekend. Nohng brings out the tourist in you quicker than company! The bridges were compelling and a beautiful piece of history I was happy to see preserved. One of the bridges sits in a city park. The others are oer small creeks or ravenes.

Winterset, Iowa is the home to the six remaining bridges, several of them used in the filming of the movie. Francesca's house its just outside of Winterset and can be viewed but not toured. The link to the bridges and the information of their history is listed below. Tour wth me, won't you?

http://madisoncounty.com/index.php?page=the-bridges

FORMATING

I was quite surprised to realize how publishers and editors expect to receive manuscripts from authors! Here's a few quick tips to make your finished product look profesonal! This information came from th program at Wilkes University and verified by Writers Market.

Font: 12 pt. size in Courier or Times New Roman. For Titles and chapter hadings 14 pt. type in bold

Spacing: Text id double-spaed throughout; tabs are five spaces from left margin, all pages are left side justified

Special Conventions: chapters begin ne-third way down the pagewhere the title is centered on the pae ndext begions two double-spaces 4) below the chapter heaing. Standard formats require the use f quoation markes for dialouge and new pargraphs for each new speaker.

These are simple, but every editor and publisher expects the writer to adhere to these rules when submitting a manuscript

Tulip Time & A Contest for Children's Books

2010-05-10T16:13:00.000-05:00

I'm back from San Antonio, just in time to catch the last end of Pella, Iowa's faous Tulip Time! Dutch costumes, food on a stick and great parades! My sister-in-law (well ex-sister-in-law, but wonderful friend) Sharon and her husband Dick, visited with Michael until I made it home. We dressed her up in a costume and made her do "street scrubbing" with me, a great past time before the local parades.

We have 6 parades, 2 each day. The evening parade has all of the floats lit up! It's quite pretty. This was the 75th celebration of the historic Tulip Time This year it was really "stem fest" as the tulips bloomed a bit early, but that didn't dampen anyone's spirits. Pella did set the Guiness World Record for most wooden shoe "dutch" dancing in the world. We had about 2,800 hundred dancers! A great time!

Had to do the last of my editing for my manuscript. The book club gave me great insites to what they liked and didn't like. I got it off to my mentor, now a few more days, a few more edits and we should be (hopefully) good to go!

Now, for some of you who were looking for a contest for children's books, why not try this one!
Don't forget to go to Hope lark's site,Funds for Writer's. She has a ton of things all of the time! Enjoy!

2011 CHICKEN HOUSE CHILDREN'S FICTION COMPETITION

http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/books/children/article7074710.ece

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NO ENTRY FEE

Limit 80,000 words. Deadline October 29, 2010. The winner will

be the entrant whose story, in the opinion of the judges,

demonstrates the greatest entertainment value, quality and

originality suitable for the children's age group. The prize

is the offer of a worldwide publishing contract with Chicken

House, with a royalty advance of £10,000. The entrant must not

have previously published any book in any country, whether

fiction or nonfiction. The entry should be suitable for a

children's audience aged between 9 and 16. Picture books and

graphic novels will not be accepted and illustrations will

not be considered.

Hot! Hot! Hot!

2010-05-07T23:22:00.000-05:00

Nothing to complain about when the weather is a mere 90 degrees and the sun is shining! My confeence is almost over. I've been on the floor about 8-10 hours a day, meeting people,smoozing and looking for business. The days are long, but I do enjoy the places I visit . Too bad this time I haven't stepped outside since I took the great photo of the Alamo! Room service every night and lots and lts of rewrites! I swear I could have a second book done by now!

Here's a short chapter from the book that some of you might recognize if you've ever been blessed with visiting northern Maine!

Potato Fields

In Victoria County, all work ceased in late September when the potato crop was ripe for picking. Self-employed men scheduled their work around the potato crop, as a good portion of a family’s income was made during the three weeks of harvest. Children were dismissed from school to aid the family with the yield. Rarely were babysitters needed. Mothers latched babies to their bodies in makeshift burlap bag slings, swinging the child forward and back as they bowed in the cool air of the September mornings.

The foreman would assign a length of row, known as a section, to each picker, staking the beginning and end of each row. Every man, woman, and child had a section of varying length. They’d pick the row clean to the end of their own stake, then move the stake to the next row where they would bend and begin again.

The plows moved across the rich, dark soil, two steel discs discharging the potatoes from their earthy lairs, exposing the fruit to the pickers and releasing the fragrance of rich, tilled soil. Large wooden barrels were placed at intervals between each picker’s rows. The workers began at one end of their line, hunched over, a huge woven basket placed between their open legs.

Searching the ground for the hidden crop, their hands sunk deep into the black dirt, they plucked the fruit and tossed it into the basket between their legs. Moving forward, they lurched the basket ahead with them like hop-scotching frogs. When the container was full, they rose, placed the basket on their hip, staggered to the barrel and dumped the heavy cargo into the waiting wooden cask.

The field dance went on all day, bobbing bodies raising and lowering; the thumping of rolling potatoes hitting wood echoing across the fields. The pickers were paid by the barrel, so they raced the rows like marathon runners gathering medals at a finish line.

Breaks were rare. A whistle announced a quick stop for water. Another for a half-hour lunch where men would gather to smoke cigarettes and women to gossip. The older children acted like circus clowns, sometimes tipping barrels, jumping inside as other children rolled them around the fields.

Laughter broke the monotony of the tractor’s hum. When the whistle signaled the end of the day, Emily watched the slow rise of her mother’s body from her bent position. Maureen rubbed her back and wiped her brow with her dirty hand. Her call gathered her children as though they had been a brood of wandering ducks. During harvest no one remembered anything more than the ache of muscles, long days and short nights where sleep was as instantaneous as death. Emily loved harvest time. The stairs never creaked during harvest time.

Remember the Alamo!

2010-05-05T22:38:00.000-05:00

The photo today is from San Antonio, Texas! Just got here for work. I always take the time to visit this national monument. To me, this symbolizes the free thinking state of Texas. It's a powerful reminder of the freedoms we are so blessed with, freedoms we should not take for granted. God given.

Well, last night I had the distinct pleasure of visiting with the reading group that read my full manuscript. I was invited to join them as they shared their thoughts about the manuscript. For any writer this is a humbling experience, as it's the reader who decides the value of a book.

In my opinion, they were right on target for what I saw needed to be done. They were professional, courteous and told me to throw out the title! Now my new working title is "You'll Never be Dead Enough". The readers felt that this title more significantly represents the dark mood of the book. I learned I have to beef up some of the character descriptions to make the reader understand the characters value. For instance, in the book, the main character is Emily Evans. She has two siblings, Stephanie, an older sister and Darren, a brother, five years her junior. The readers wanted to know more about the relationship between the siblings. I've been so focused on Emily and her mother Maureen, that I didn't realize I'd left her siblings so far out.

The readers also wanted to know more about Emily's father, Denny Douay and Emily's husband, Aaron.

To all of my readers, THANK YOU! You have been great! Now when I make the Best seller list:)......

So, with just a few days to complete the rewrites and get the manuscript to my wonderful mentor, the postings will be VERY, short for the next few days! Hang in there with me, we are about to be done!

Have a good one!

A Journal of Prose, Poetry and Art

2010-05-03T20:38:00.000-05:00

First, note that I'm feeling like I need a little R & R, thus the Kauai photos! This is yet another crazy week, but by Sunday, the FINAL manuscript will be in Sarah's ( my mentor) hands for her final edits. Wow! I'll be done with my Master's degree in June! Then on to the MFA. (One more year!)

I've been parusing lately looking for web sites of interest for those that love poetry and art as well as writing. I'd entered a contest with this site. They are very professional and it's a good read! Enjoy!
http://www.literal-latte.com/

Where in the World is Ginger? and a contest to boot!

2010-05-01T21:54:00.001-05:00

This last couple of weeks has been a world wind! I've been in Connecticut, Minneapolis,Hilton Head, South Carolina and Indianapolis! I travel a lot but don't get to see too much! Now and again I dart from the hotel to somewhere interesting, but knowing how much still has to be written, back to the hotel I go! I'm very fortunate though to meet wonderful people along the way. This morning on my way home I met an educational book publisher. We had a nice conversation on publishing for her field. I learn something from everyone!

I'm home for a couple of days and hope to complete my final edits by next weekend!

Here's a contest I've entered and had fun with. Hope Clark had the details on Funds for Writers! www.fundsforwriters.com

This is an excellent exercise for learning tight writing. Try it!

100 WORDS OR FEWER FICTION CONTEST

http://www.100wordsorfewerwritingcontest.com/index.php?id=9

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$15 ENTRY FEE - CRITIQUES AVAILABLE FOR ADDITIONAL FEE

Deadline July 18, 2010. Entrants may be located anywhere on Earth.

Both contests require 100 words or fewer. Two categories:

A. Original:

100 words or fewer, on any subject whatsoever (excluding lewd).
B. New Contest:

Stories will revolve around either (a) "The Old Man" or (b) "Home."

Prizes

Original - First Prize--$500. Second Prize--$100.

New - Subjects are "The Old Man" and "Home." From the pool of

these stories, one story will receive a First Prize of $150.

One story will receive a Second Prize of $50.

2010-04-30T22:34:00.000-05:00

I did something quirky today after work. I walked around the corner from the Marriott where I'm staying (of course) and toddled on down to The Slippery Noodle, a blues joint in Indianapols, known for its fabulous history, great music and somewhat crappy food. I'm a big fan of the Blues, raw emotion, coupled with great rhythms. Oooooo! That's so nice.

The place has quite a history. Built in 1850 as The Tremont Hotel, (an original sign still hangs there) it was the first German Clubs in Indianapolis. In the 1860's the name was changed to the Concordia House, then the Germania House until World War I. It was used as a stagecoach stop,then railroad stop for passengers. It has a rich history with the Underground Railroad as a slave santcuary. Slaves were hidden in underground tunnels, which I had the opportunity to go through. Other names for the place were Beck's Salon and during prohibition it was named Moore's Beer Tavern.

Gangsters like the Brady and Dillinger gangs hung out here, using the back of the building for target practice. Bullets are still lodged there. The present owners are Harold and Lorean Yeagy. The Noodle has been in their family since 1963. Live Blues is played seven nights a week with two bands on the weekends.

It once had 14 luxurious rooms and was used as a brothel. Stayed that way until 1953 when two men fought over a certain woman. She was killed. The kife used, stabbed into the wooden bar. The mark is still there. Ti roof, original backbar. Quite a site for those who love architecture.The basement of the Noodle had been used to distill liquor during prohibition. Cattle and pigs were slaughtered there as well. It's used as storage now.

One of the most interesting things I learned from the staff was that the Noodle has two ghosts. Bonified. George is a black Civil War Soldier. He lives in the basement. He used to shovel coal so when people actually see him they all describe him the same, covered with ash. A delivery man popped in the back door and headed down to the basement with supplies. He flipped on the light-- you guessed it, George was standing there. He dropped everything and bolted up the stairs. He never delivered there again.

They even had a paraormal specialist come in because they had this one spot in the basement gravel floor that never dried. It was a wet even when there was no rain or water leakage. The person they brought in was told nothing before they moved to the basement. When the person reached the room where the spot was, they stopped. They told the owner to quit walking on the dirt floor, as someone or something was buried there. They gave the Noodle a choice. Dig it up and move elsewhere or leave it where it was and cement over the floor. The cement looks petty good!

The other ghost is Sarah. She been spotted a few times. Everyone gives the same description Long, dark hair. A blue dress. She's in the balcony overlooking the stage in the back part of the building.

Anyway, a couple of years ago, a couple asked if they could have a private wedding on the stage in the back room. Bride. Groom. Limo Driver, photographer and pastor. After the ceremony, the photographer asked if the owner knw who the lady was in the balcony watching the wedding. She wore a blue dress. The owner told the photographer it was someone who came to the Noodle....a lot.

Great history!

Just as I'm ready to get back to my writing at the Marriott, in comes five women. A bit older than I am, but big smiles, self-assured and quite beautiful. I watched them move through the Noodle. Confident. Laughing. Movingtheir arms to te music pumping from the juke box.I had to follow them, hear their story. They met each other in Marikesh and since get together on a regular basis. Travelling. Living la vida loca! How wonderful to see people clinging to the rich life we've been given! You go girls!

Now I've got to run tonight. I've got an early flight! I rambled, but should be back on track by tomorrow!

Put Emotion to Work For You

2010-04-30T00:16:00.000-05:00

I got to visit with Krista, the daughter of a good friend and her two little boys tonight. It took me back to the day that my friend Deb and I shared the news that she was pregnant with Krista. I had found out that I was pregnant with Tate, just months before she had found out about Krista, so I was already bursting. I remembered everything about the day Deb told me. The excitement was pressed into her face. A girl. Sweet and precious, smelling like baby powder, all giggly and so full of smiles.

Today, I sat next to that woman with two little boys of her own, her belly swollen with a third child's coming. The excitement pressed into her face. Krista had become everything her mother wanted for her. Independent. Proudly beautiful. A loving mother and wife. A talented artist. And all of a sudden, I'm wanting to call Deb and tell her what a wonderful child Krista has grown to be! What happened to our babies?

My son calls me a short time later. We talk. I realize that he's no longer my little man. He's someone's husband, someone's friend. He's intelligent, a bit hot-tempered like his father used to be, a hard worker, a good man. I want to tell him that I ache for the little boy he was, but I don't. He's his own man now. I just pray he remembers the love that got him to that place.

I'm tired tonight. It's late and I've spent my night pounding the keys, first for work, then with my writing. I've been on the road a couple of weeks and I'm ready to go home. Don't feel sorry for me. I love what I do. Today I received a lot of encouragement, first from my mentor, Sarah Pritchard, my sister Sue, then a lovely note from a complete stranger. Life just doesn't get any better than this!

So for work today, remember that stories should move the reader. Feel it in your heart. Put it to paper. Edit. Edit. Edit.

I'm Back!

2010-04-28T22:19:00.000-05:00

Whoa! A couple of days with good friends and sunshine and I'm almost renewed! Time off always ends too fast! This morning I was back on the plane and am in Indianapolis for work. I sometimes take for granted the beauty I see as I fly, the patchwork of land below me, the puffs of white cotton above me. Then I get whacked by the seat in front of me and I'm smelling the back of someone's head and realize, flying isn't so fun anymore, but I'm still lucky to love what I do!

For the next several days I'm in crunch time. I'm having my manusript read as we speak by a reading group in Des Moines. They have invited me up on Wenesday night to share their thoughts and critiques, which is any writers dream! I've aleady had a few good readers give me information that has made the manuscript better and better.

Balancing everything is tough, but again, I've so much to be grateful for. So for tonight here's an upcoming contest AND a website that you might enjoy! Get with it people! If I can do this, so can you!

Writer's Relief. They have some great information for writers and in this issue they talk about how to handle rejection. Ouch! http://www.writersrelief.com/blog/default.aspx

This is a MUST DO! It's the Summer 24 Hr. Contest that will take place in July. Entry fee is $5.00. The prompt is given on July 24 at noon. You must have the story turned in by July 25 at noon! I always have fun with this one! Usually under 1000 wrds too! http://www.writersweekly.com/misc/contest.php

Have a good week!

A Few Days of Rest

2010-04-25T19:36:00.000-05:00

Just a quick note to let you know I may not post until Wednesday, April 28. I'm on a little R & R in Hilton Head! Watch for me then! Have a good few days!

This Week's Contest

2010-04-23T21:20:00.001-05:00

The photo above is from the dental convention I'm attending in Minneapolis! The character was too cute!

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$15 ENTRY FEE

This week's contest comes from Funds For Writers. (You must subscribe!) Have fun!

SONORA REVIEW SHORT SHORT STORY CONTEST

A prize of $1,000 and publication in Sonora Review is given

annually for a short short story. Up to 1,000 words. Deadline

May 1, 2010.

http://sonorareview.com/contest

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Where Does a Story Come from?

2010-04-22T22:35:00.000-05:00

First, the photos today are from out my window on the river in St Paul, Minnesota. Sure, I travel a lot, but this is usually what I get to see. Anything that is out the window of my car or hotel:) I'll behere through Saturday!

Anyway, I had a woman ask me today, "Where do your stories come from?" That's simple. They come from everywhere! I asked her to tell me bit about her family. She has a brother who was married to a woman who took him for every red cent he had, then ran off with a man who owned a B-B Que pit.

Right there I wrote down the tidbits of a comedic story.

Next she told me that she went to a Catholic school where the head nun liked to dance, while she took showers. Her mother went bald at 35 from using real "bleach" on her hair. (Yes she was a blonde.) Her father drove a milk truck. Her sister loved to dress as a man.

Can't you just see a hysterical story? She even had to laugh when I pointed it all out! Story ideas are all around us. Your best bet in remembering them is to cary a small notebook with you wherever you go and write own things you observe or hear. Eavesdrop on conversations. What people say might be great dialogue for your next book!

Keep looking at life. There's a story there!

How many Words Should I have for a Book?

2010-04-21T23:37:00.000-05:00

First, the photos today, (most of them) are from my journey to Connecticut. I pulled over to the side of the road while I was on the campus of the University of Bridgeport and took them. It's a pretty campus along the water.

Okay, let's roll. I've always wondered how many words do you need to make a complete book? Well, according to several sources, including Writers Digest, here's an approximate count that publishers look for, taking into account that there are always exceptions.

Adult Novels: Commercial and Literary like romance, mystery, suspense, horror, literary & thrillers Between 80,000 & 90,000 words

Science Fiction & Fantasy: 100,000-110,000 words

Middle Grade Books- Ages 9-12, 20,000-45,000 words

Picture Books- 500-600 words

Young Adult Books: 50,000-70,000 words

Westerns-50,000-80,000 words

Memoir- 80,000-90,000 words

So now you know,,,,,,,what's keeping you from writing?

On the Road ......Again!

2010-04-20T15:39:00.001-05:00

Please note the photo today! It's a departure information board at Chicago O'Hare, my pass through home! Thought I'd start sharing some "where is Ginger? photos!

Willie Nelson has always been a country singer whose music, (not lifestyle) I enjoy. Today this song just seemed appropriate! I'm heading to Connecticut, overnight, the on to Minneapolis tomorrow! It takes a special breed of people to this job as it's hard on the body, (not that mine's great). But hose of us that do usually have great employers, (like I do) and have found something to keep them bust during the long waits. I write. Everyday. Something.

When I'm finished with a story, I edit. That means taking out words, putting in words, looking for cliches or anything that will make the story stronger. Well, I'm travelling last week and I have another writer tell me about a website called "Auto Crit". I went online at http://www.autocrit.com/ and WOW! I loved it!

You can paste in a sample of your writing and ask it to give you one of several reports, free to start with! I'd like to hear what you think of it!

P.S. Please note my tardiness, as I am now a day behind in postings!

Day of Rest

2010-04-18T17:36:00.000-05:00

Just posted some of the photos from New Brunsick, Canada that hang over my writing desk. They have been a lot of the inspiration for my book. Note the photo above of cabins along the Tobique River. My grandparents, John & Ellen Lovean as well as assorted old pictures from Canada!

What memories!

This week in Gingerland

2010-04-17T19:38:00.001-05:00

This week's been a blur! Got home from Atlanta on Tuesday evening and left for Houston on Wednesday morning. Marriott's Hiltons', taxis, rental cars, United. Nice seat mates throughout this week.

One of things I find most exciting is how many "closet" writers are out there! I met a lovely woman at the airport in Atlanta who kindly offered me a seat at her table when the restaurant was full. We chatted a while about things women do. I told her about my writing. She shared with me that she has a friend who's just published a book and loves to have readers. We shared information and I hope to have contact with him soon, as I know how valuable honest critiques can be. Writers are wonderful about helping each other out!

This month in More magazine, Norris Church Mailer, widow of the great writer Norman Mailer, had a cutting of her new memoir "A Ticket to the Circus" which has just been released. I've listened to parts of the book being read during residency at Wilkes University and love Norris's brutal honesty and humor in the way she writes about her life. If you have a chance pick up the book. I don't think you'll be disappointed!

Last night here in Houston, (I go home in the morning) I had an opportunity to visit with some real "Southern Ladies" from the University of Texas. Being the "new kid" on the block in the field of insurance I'm working in, I can often be left out of so much. But these ladies, Yvette and Tricia were so special. They shared parts of there lives with me, sat with me as we ate and genuinely made me feel a part of the program. Yvette lost her 10 year old son to MS just last year, yet she was so encouraging to those around her. I am always honored to meet people with such strength. You can tell where it comes from immediately.

Tonight, I just turned in Round Three of Ten in "The Whittaker" writing contest. Wow, is this intense! There are about 35 fiction writers. We are scored in each round by a different judge which keeps things impartial. The scores run from 1-100. My friend Gray encouraged me along.

Round One, we both did very well. Round Two she kicked my butt. Round Three...we'll see! At the end of the contest in July, all scores will be tallied and the winner announced! Great fun!

Don't forget if you'd like a very short challenge, try next week's contest with Writers Weekly. It costs $5.00 to enter and starts at noon on Saturday, April 24. It ends at noon on Sunday, April 25. You MUST pre-register! Go to http://www.writersweekly.com/misc/contest.phpu ! At the appointed time (noon) you will receive a prompt (everyone gets the same one) and the word count (how many words you're allowed to use) and then you get to work! Make sure you follow the rules exactly and turn your work in on time!

Well, off to bed! It's been a long, productive day! Have a good one all!

Friday's Contest

2010-04-16T21:10:00.000-05:00

First, the photo above is a sunrise in Texas through the trees. I love Spring!

I hope you are enjoying the contests I'm finding to share with you! No, I don't have time to enter everything I reccommend but I do take part in as many as I can. The "fee" associated with the contests goes toward the reading fee and contest prizes. These are reputable contests and can be trusted. Enjoy and good luck with your submissions! This week's comes from Hope Clarks site/Funds for Writers!

E.M. KOEPPEL $1,100 SHORT FICTION AWARD

http://www.writecorner.com/printable.asp

$15 ENTRY FEE

First Place Award: $1,100. Editors' Choices: $100 each. Maximum Length: 3,000 words. Stories must be unpublished. Deadline April 30, 2010. The winning short story and editors' choices will be published on www.writecorner.com . If the winning story is by anyone attending college, university, or school when the story is submitted, the winner will receive, in addition to the $1,100 award, the $500 P.L. Titus Scholarship.

Breaking Up is Hard to do

2010-04-15T21:52:00.001-05:00

First, I'm in Houston and the photos are of downtown (stock photos, not mine)!

For those of you out there that have secured an agent to sell your manuscript to a publisher, way to go! But what happens if you have a "nice" agent and they stop calling or keeping you informed of the hard work they are doing for you? Should you dump them? Should you hang on without the benefit of knowing what's happening? Here's some suggestions from Writers Digest to help you find an exit strategy from the agent who's forgotten you.

If an agent seemes too busy to check in with you maybe they are:
1. less experienced than you relaized
2. have too many projects
3. are dealing with personal issues

If you've allowed the agent a reasonable amount of time to sell your project, (4 to 6 months) contacting the agent and giving them notice that you'll be seeking other representation is not out of the ordinary. Give them a 30 day notice, or the contract length of time you've both agreed to and move on!

Agents should give you regular reports about the progress they are making with your project and respond to any questions you might have. If they've not done that, maybe you've got the wrong agent! Don't feel guilty if they don't deliver on their promises. You've got a book to get published!

Make it or Break it Query Letters

2010-04-14T20:44:00.000-05:00

First the photo today is from Marietta, Geogia. I was there yesterday at Life College. I can't get over the beauty of the Spring yet. I'm snapping photos of everything that's blooming!

Anyway, at the airport this morning (I'm in Houston until Sunday) one of my airport friends told me she had a friend that was starting to pay attention to this site. They write children's stories and had a question about "queries".

So here goes, Writing 101 on queries!

A query, as we learned yesterday, is just a letter you are writing to an editor to see if they might be interested in your story. Most editors and publishers require a query BEFORE sending your story or manuscript out. If you don't follow the rules, they will usually throw your story away. Not good.

So what's the best way to query? Let's take it in simple steps.

1. First, I think one of the easiest ways to figure out where to send a story is to visit your favorite book store or library. Look over the section of the "type" of book you have written. If it's a childrens book, look in the children's section. Find a story that seems simliar in length, then check to see who the publisher of the book is.

2. Look the publisher up on the web and type in the words "submission guidelines". They will tell you if you need to submit online, or by snail mail. Follow the rules to a tee or you won't get a response.

3. Write the letter. Keep it to one page. Don't tell them it's a wonderful story. Open with a short concise professional salutation. Give them "a hook" or something to sink their teeth into and want to read more. Most times if they can't get through the first paragraph they may not get through the whole letter.

4. Give them a short summation of the book. It does not have to be overly detailed, just the high points.

5. Give them any credentials you might have, such as anything you've had published, any contests you've won, that kind of thing. If you don't have any, say nothing.

6. Ask them if they'd be interested in looking at the manuscript. Give them an approximate word count and tell them if the manuscript is ready.

7. Close quickly and thank them for their time.

Samples of query letter can be found at http://freelancewrite.about.com/od/getpublished/a/samplequery.htm

Tomorrow I'll be leaving some information on agents actively looking for different genres!

Words Writers Need to Know

2010-04-13T21:19:00.000-05:00

Every job has "lingo". So it is with writing. So here are a few words that you might need to learn. Sure, it's Writing 101, but trust me, it hasn't been so long ago that I had to ask! These descriptions came from Writer's Market!

Clip-a sample, usually from a newspaper or magazine, of a writer's published work. (It's good to have these when you submit a query)

Literary Fiction-The general category of fiction which employs more sophisticated technique, driven as much or more by character evolution than action in the plot.

Commercial fiction-To the writer of literary, or serious, fiction, style and technique are often as important as subject matter. Commercial fiction however, is written with the intent of reaching as wide an audience as possible and is sometimes called "genre" fiction.

Genre-A formulaic type of fiction such as romance, western or horror.

Proposal- An offer to write a specific work, usually consisting of an outline of the work and one or two completed chapters.

Query- A letter written to an editor to elecit interest in a story the writer wants to submit.

SASE- self addressed stamped envelope

Slush pile-A stack of unsolicited manuscripts in the editorial offices of a publisher.

Synoposis-A brief summary of a story, novel or a play. As part of a book proposal, it is a comprehensive summary condensed in a page or page and a half.

Unsolicited manuscript-A story or novel manuscript that an editor did not specifically asked to see.

These are simple terms, but you need to get familiar with them before you make a mistake with an editor!

A New Website to get you Going!

2010-04-12T20:59:00.000-05:00

I'm forever watching for websites that have interesting information that will help me in my writing. I found this site today. It lists prompts and encourages writers to write for just 15 minutes a day. There are stories on it you can read as well as encouragement for those who are "closet" writers! Try it! Sign up because it's free!

http://www.fifteenminutesoffiction.com/

And one more thing! For my new friend Mary Ann, here's a website for children's fiction, contests, etc. from a very reputable publisher! Give it a try!

http://www.harpercollinschildrens.com/

A New Roommate

2010-04-11T19:45:00.002-05:00

For those of you that know me, our son Tate is in the Coast Guard. He and his lovley bride, Amanda are beng transfered to Kodiak Island, Alaska. Well, we have four granddogs and they can only take two. Miss Amara, the oldest of the dogs and the smalest will be staying behind at Elaine's and Gerald's, Amanda's parents. Bella, the baby and Triton, the bully are going with the kids to Alaska.

Michael just returned from Alabama with the biggest of the dogs, Chauncey! We'll have him until the kids get settled, then we'll return him. Today we bought dog items, food bowls, water bowls, a dog kennel for the garage, toys, beds, you know, all the "grandkid" things.

Above is his first photo. He's laying in the box the kennel came in. Look down along the side of this blog and you'll see his new garage kennel (which he'l l probably never be in.) He's going to be great company for us, but we know the kids are missing him already. Isn't it great being a parent and helping out when you can?

This Week's Contest

2010-04-10T20:51:00.000-05:00

It seems that there are some wonderful contests going on for those who want to try and win some money. Here's one I've had some luck with. Enjoy!

NEW MILLENIUM WRITING AWARDS
http://www.newmilleniumwritings.com/awards.php

$17 entry fee
$1000 1st Prize for best poem, best fiction, best non-fiction, best short-short fiction. Non-fiction includes humor, memoir, creative nonfiction, travel, opinion, essay, interview, features, investigative reporting. Deadline June 17, 2010. Prose no lonher than 6,000 words. Short fiction no more than 1,000 words. Poetry up to 3 poems and 5 pages. Twenty poetry finalists will be published.

Home Really is Where the Heart is

2010-04-09T22:11:00.000-05:00

First, the photo today was taken by my Aunt Georgie many years ago in Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada. I have it posted over my writing desk as a reminder of Canada, a simple place that holds memories of a place I still call "home."

Though this past two weeks I've been in Houston, Texas, Atlanta, Georgia and just in and out of Bridgeport, Connecticut between last night and today, home is where I want to be.

Travelling can be tough on you as a writer. Working, trying to hit deadlines and still have a clear mind to read and write isn't easy, but I am so blessed to have a supportive husband and family and a great job, so I'm not complaining.

But somebody should feel a bit sorry for me. I got the the airport in White Plains, New York, now come on, there's one thing, New York! Anyway, I'm standing behind a grown man who's wearing pajamas. No joke! Pajamas! And he's got on Birkenstocks with red socks. Who dresses him?

I go through security and a woman takes off her jacket, because security tells her she has to. She only has a bra on! Now for those of you not well travelled, you don't have to do that. You just tell them you only have a bra on and they'll let you keep your coat on... that's if your a woman. So there I am, following a woman with only a bra on. The guard is slack-jawed, but by the time he closed his mouth she was through security and didn't even blink an eye!

Next, I get on the plane and wedge myself into the ever-shrinking seat and wait for the door to close, hoping that the seat next to me will go empty. By now, most of you know my luck. Here he comes, all 437lbs of him and jams himself into the seat next to me. I'm trying to be polite and ask him if it might be more comfortable for him if I put up the arm rest between us. Dirty look. I do it anyway. Big mistake. He oozes into my seat, pressing me into the window. Literally.

Long story short. Try flying 2 hrs with your face pressed against the dirty window of a small plane, (no choice of your own) all the while, the big man continues to spead like oleo over the seats .Then he pretends that its NOT him sending an odor like an old dog who ate rotting sausage into the air. I take it as long as I can, watching him bob up and down every time he had to poof, then finally said to him, "Hey! I can smell you over here, you know!" It was ugly. No it didn't stop.

Anyway, made it home safe. Got the manuscript out to the book club and am awaiting comments. It's a good day!

Trying to Get Published?

2010-04-08T20:31:00.000-05:00

Maybe you're like most writers and have some short stories, a completed manuscript, play or poetry and you want to get it out into the world. Some of the good advice I've received so far is simple and I'm happy to share it!

1. Send a query letter BEFORE you send a complete project. A query letter is a short introduction to your story to ask if the publisher is interested in taking a look at the complete project. (We'll speak more of this at another time,)

2. Address the query to a particular person. No one wants to receive a query addressed to "Dear Sir or Madam". Do your due diligence in finding out who the right person is.

3. If the publisher has an 800 number, don't use it. Call directly. Most 800 numbers are for subscription information only.

4. Be brief. One page will do.

5. Don't brag. Just offer up the product and ask if they'd be interested.

These are just a few of hundreds of good tips for your first journey into the publishing world. Try taking a poem or short story or even a good blog you've written and then go to your favorite bookstore and look at magazines that might fit the type of story you have. Most magazines publish stories from 300 to 2500 words. Find your fit. Look for the editor of the magazine, then try to pitch it in one page to the editor.

You might even surprise yourself by getting published!

What's a Protagonist or an Antagonist?

2010-04-07T22:32:00.000-05:00

In any story there is a good guy and a bad guy. That's the easy definition to the question posed to me by an acquaintance. More than that the protagonist is the main character of any story, the one the reader learns to sympathize with (most often). But protagonists can be depressing, flawed or troubled as well. They can be the person we love to hate. No matter what, they tend to be the lead character in our stories or plays. They can be the narrator or storyteller of the book as well.

On the other hand then, the antagonist is the person or thing that opposes the protagonist. They are the enemy of sorts, the one who puts up the barriers for our main character.

Just learning the simple terms like this helps a writer understand where his character is coming from. In my book, Emily Evans is my lead characer or protagonist. There are several antagonists. Her father, Denny, her mother Maureen and her own anger which all unite to keep her from giving in to her faith.

Hope this helps a bit! Have a good week!

A Place to Be

2010-04-06T19:57:00.000-05:00

One thing I have learned during the past year is the importance of having a "place" to write. Before we moved into the spacious condo we have lived in since last July, we lived in a very small historic home in the center of town. The town we live in is Dutch, complete with windmills and tulips and canals.

In the little house my husband made me a space at the top of the stairs in a nook originally used for acloset. The walls were pine, the ceiling was slanted and very small. But there was a window that looked to the bustling sidewalk below and a desk with a wall in front of it I had plastered with photos and scriptures and sayings that encouraged me to write.

Now I have a spacious loft, all in white with four huge bookcases and two desks that houses two computers and two leather chairs and overlooks a street where people pass every few minutes.

What difference does it make? None. Just carve a space out of somewhere where you make a committment to write whether it is in a journal, your bible or on your computer. Its about making the committment to read then write.

When I go to my writing place, my sweet husband knows I mean business and gives me the quiet time I need. So today, carve out the place you need to read, to write or to study. Now get to it!