OctPoWriMo #8: Scent

Scientists say smell and taste are closely linked;
some 20,000 different scents can be found in the kitchen,
that vary by 10 levels of intensity.
Welcome to my kitchen and that aromatic lifting of spirits
when cinnamon rolls cool on a rack,
or ribs grill outside, rubbed with rosemary,
the smoke rising to tease the neighbors.

I remember the sweet smell of you when you were a baby.
Well, not always sweet, but I would snuggle close to breathe in
that baby shampoo on your silky hair or
peanut butter or spaghetti sauce smeared on your face.

We actually do smell pheromones, taking in that special scent
of our beloved. Unique, yes, but not just blue eyes or brown.
Scientists do say we’re drawn to those beloveds who possess
very different DNA, perhaps instinctively,
so our babies will be stronger.

Which smells do we remember?
The smell of the woods, leaves crunching under our feet,
lilacs in the late spring, or that tickle

in our nose that says rain is on the way.

Sometimes while hiking, 

we’ll note the stench of death as we pass by,
true nature, unromanticized. I wonder:
Can we know by scent when danger is near?
Maybe that next time you take a deep breath, 

you'll find a survival skill.

Hiking along a creek
near Eagle Crest, Oregon

I puzzled over today’s poetry prompt (Scent), most of the day, but did get some other writing done earlier. You might find these two articles fascinating: Sarah Everts, “The Truth About Pheromones” here https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/the-truth-about-pheromones-100363955/ or this shorter discussion of that link between the nose and taste at Alimentarium https://www.alimentarium.org/en/knowledge/senses-%E2%80%93-smell

Tomorrow's prompt: Eyes or What do You See?

You can visit OctPoWriMo at http://www.octpowrimo.com/ to read what others have written. Thank you, Morgan Dragonwillow.

OctPoWriMo #7: My Viking Blood

Today’s prompt for OctPoWriMo is ‘tongue: tasting and speaking.” I must confess my mind was filled with images I truly didn’t want to write about (although, one, that of eating roasted grasshoppers while traveling in Turkey reminded me of unexpected tastiness).

Something Morgan Dragonwillow wrote about what words we might use to comfort us brought me right back to the current story I’m working on – set in Scotland. Yes, I found and loved for a very long time this Scottish proverb: “Bend, don’t break.”

In my current mystery, The Seventh Tapestry (forthcoming 2020), Sandra, a curator at a small museum in Edinburgh, meets her new boss at Deacon Brodie’s Tavern.

Deacon Brodie's Bar
Edinburgh, Scotland

Now, in real life, despite having lived just around the corner from this rather famous tavern for nearly a month, we never dropped by. Thanks to internet images and articles (even a menu), though, I feel as I have spent time here.

Emblazoned on the bar, “A pledge for all Scots: In Love and Life I hath no fear, for I was born of Scottish blood.” This resonates for me. ‘In love and life, I have no fear,’ and thus, this poem.

I’ve always been proud of
my Viking blood for it sings with fight
when I’m cornered.
I appear soft and sweet, no doubt,
even glasses perched on my nose,
an illusion. Inside, a warrior awaits,
battle-ready to scream profanity
in the face of a mugger, inches away,
shocking him to run.
That actually happened.
I didn’t need my sword.

Those workplace meetings too, when
tongues try to wind those webs, I start quietly,
reason reassured, crisscrossed by budget, staff, and vision,
not always able to change harsh reality.
I wiggle my eyebrows and explain,
“It must be my Viking blood.”

And love, my love, I’ve never needed to battle,
for we share words in the night,
dreaming, hoping, ready for what comes next.


Tomorrow's prompt: Scent.

You can visit OctPoWriMo at http://www.octpowrimo.com/ to read what others have written. Thank you, Morgan Dragonwillow.

OctPoWriMo #6: Blue

Remember Sandra Bullock’s awkward portrayal of a pageant queen, half cynical and half hopeful plea for ‘world peace’? Lately, I’ve been feeling discouraged and pilloried by sniping political posts, sarcastic clips on all the news channels, right and left, and anger-filled twitter feeds, political in nature, literally distracting us away from those issues that matter. That’s where this ‘blue’ poem came from.

We live together on a great blue marble
floating in space, held in place
by physics, hope, and faith
that somehow we will not destroy
our blue sky mornings.
Inspired by children marching
for more than talk
at which we balk,
blue, blue blues, a jazzy mix,
I’m more than sick
of violence against just anyone
who’s different, who doesn’t live
in some pricey, gated suburb high on a hill,
You got it all. The votes, the money, the guns,
the ability to snipe away
at people sleeping in the street,
building walls against the American dream:
MAGA, you ain’t it.

NOTE: In 1984, the Statue of Liberty was designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The UNESCO "Statement of Significance" describes the statue as a "masterpiece of the human spirit" that "endures as a highly potent symbol—inspiring contemplation, debate and protest—of ideals such as liberty, peace, human rights, abolition of slavery, democracy and opportunity." 

Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Statue_of_Liberty

Tomorrow's prompt: Tongue, tasting and speaking.

You can visit OctPoWriMo http://www.octpowrimo.com/ to read what others have written. Thank you, Morgan Dragonwillow, for hosting and inspiring us all!

OctPoWriMo #5: Doorway, Open or Closed

Windows is for looking out.
Doors is for comin’ an' goin’.
We moved so many times when I was a kid,
I guess it stuck. You told me once you
liked to travel, that you’re not
the marrying kind. I wiggled my eyebrows.
I like goin’ on the road as much as you, I said.
Now I’m like a rumpled sheet
I’ve slept in so many beds, as they say,
domestic an' foreign.

Comin’ in filled with hope. Maybe a pretty place to set a spell.
Goin’ out, sometimes on the run, not always ends the story.
But I’m still here. Even if we travel slowly,
an’ he cain’t carry me over that threshold,
an’ he’s more likely to set in his rocker,
that view out our window is good enough,
green pines and green hills,
an’ that door is open.

Writing a poem a day from scratch is not the easiest endeavor, but it’s a good way to start the day. I’m reading a mystery, The Clincher, by Lisa Preston, a mystery about a woman who shoes horses for a living. Her voice is entirely eastern Oregon country, influencing today’s poem. My husband and I are both afflicted by wanderlust, although after near 45 years together and some 25 countries, we’re slowing down a bit.

Hiking on Dishman Hills (Camp 2018)

Why not click over to OctPoWriMo http://www.octpowrimo.com/ to read what others have written -- and join in? Here's tomorrow's prompt: Blue.

Thank you, Morgan Dragonwillow, for hosting and inspiring us all!

OctPoWriMo #4: Cages

What happens when words begin to slip away,
like threads of pewter, silver, or gold?
First nouns, then numbers. One day,
whole memories are simply gone.
Faces are next.
I’ll sit in my wheelchair, 

my hands restless over my lap quilt.
I don’t remember who made it for me.
I don’t remember who I am.

My grandmother had dementia. Just before she died, she spoke only in Swedish. My aunt was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease; she forgot that she loved to drink wine. 

Today’s prompt for OctPoWriMo http://www.octpowrimo.com/reminded me that the ‘cages’ or boundaries that limit us are only sometimes of our own making.

Comfort Quilt (Beth 2018)

My sister sent me a pattern for wheelchair-sized comfort quilts from Carolyn's Homesewn that features a pocket for those cold hands. I can't wait to make this one. A quilting friend told me that often quilts are made with extra pockets for Alzheimer patients with restless hands.

Tomorrow’s prompt: Doorway, open or closed? Why not join in?

 

OctPoWriMo #3: Womb

If ever a child was meant to be,
singing ethereal songs, floating
in this hollow place within me,
it is you – beginning as
streaming, bumping cells,
simply loved,

uniquely yourself,
now a mysterious, genetic X.

It is you I have asked for over the years,
I have asked for this moment:
a name for an egg;

this I asked for 

awake in the night.

Source: How Babies Grow in the Womb (Dainik Bhaskar, Youtube) 

Today's poem is part of Morgan Dragonwillow's OctPoWriMo, that writing challenge that asks us to write a poem every day for the Month of October. Thank you, Morgan. I have no excuses. Just wanted to share a revised version of the poem I wrote when I learned I was pregnant with my daughter, who now has two amazing daughters of her own.

Tomorrow’s prompt: Cage: Pewter, Silver, or Gold. Why not join in? http://www.octpowrimo.com/

IWSG: On Reading and Writing

On the first Wednesday of the month, the Insecure Writer's Support Group, posts a question. This month, the question challenges us to think about writers who read what others have written -- and those who don't.

This is not an easy question. I still remember the thrill of holding my own book, sitting in a straw-backed chair just my size. Later, I loved reading as a way to distance myself from the chaos around me. I used to pace up and down the rows of books at the school’s library, choosing the thickest books. Jump a few decades forward, and, my husband and I would prowl used bookstores, spending hours to find the perfect read. As a teacher, I needed to read voraciously. Think 70-hour weeks, research for class prep, student papers, and, of course, whatever was on my ‘to read’ list. Which often meant another trip to the library. Then came the internet. More reading.

I always knew that someday I would write my own stories, though I wasn’t quite sure what they’d be about. Poetry and short stories kept that part of my mind and heart occupied between work commitments. Once retired, I took a class in creative writing, hopeful of finding a direction, perhaps to finish that serial murder story I’d started. My teacher stood up on the first night of class and told us we could write whatever we wanted – except a story that involved violence. Oops. Well, I thought, if I can’t finish my stories, I’ll just write about mermaids.

That led to my first book, an anthology of short stories about mermaids (The Mermaid Quilt & Other Tales). One of those stories about a selkie off the coast of Scotland morphed into historical fiction about the impact of the Industrial Revolution on a small family of fishermen who were ousted from their homes and replaced by sheep, during a time known as the Clearances. The novel (Standing Stones) took three years to write and included a two-month research trip to Scotland. Since then, I’ve written two more novels in this series, set in Australia (Years of Stone), and Canada (Rivers of Stone), all roughly in the 1840s. Really fun. Not always easy.

How could I not read what others have written? These days, I’m drawn to studying what makes good fiction work and how to improve my writing productivity. After all, as a writer in her mid-70’s, how many stories can I tell?

To the question: Do I still read voraciously? Yes, but now for relaxation (genre fiction), and for research (just maybe Egypt, for the next story). After 26 years as a community college English teacher, I find it quite hard to separate reading for entertainment from critiquing what I’m reading (theme, plotting, characterization, style, and, yes, even typos). I’m thrilled when I can follow the hero or heroine’s journey in well-written genre fiction.

For that’s one responsibility I embrace: How to write a story that reflects those mythic journeys of my characters and helps us understand what others have experienced in other lands and other times. Oh, the humanity! For our writing is shaped by all we’ve read. No writer can really ignore the passion or the insight of classic writers like Aristotle, Dostoyevsky, Camus, and many others, or deny their writing has not been shaped by every story he or she has ever read. Do you remember the thrill of discovering the wolf in Grandma’s bed, awaiting Little Red Riding Hood?

For those who write their own words, as if stories sprang unique and unencumbered by what others have experienced and/or written about, write on! But I don’t quite understand how writers cannot love reading. Maybe when I’m deep in my own stories, I set aside some of my outside reading. For a time measured in days. But there’s always a book waiting.

Wednesday IWSG October 2 question - It's been said that the benefits of becoming a writer who does not read is that all your ideas are new and original. Everything you do is an extension of yourself, instead of a mixture of you and another author. On the other hand, how can you expect other people to want your writing, if you don't enjoy reading? What are your thoughts?

Thank you to this month's co-hosts: Ronel Janse van Vuuren, Mary Aalgaard, Madeline Mora-Summonte, and Ellen @ The Cynical Sailor!  Check out what others have written by going to IWSG's website. Read around a little, leave a comment. How would YOU answer this question?

Getting ready for NaNoWriMo?

OctPoWriMo #2: Changeling

Like a mermaid twisting in the green surf,
always on the outside, watching, dreaming,
you shift over and over,
not realizing
how much transforms with each turn,
not just the loss of those iridescent scales,
or the ability to breathe underwater,
or to sing with the fishes.
You gave up your voice.

Aren’t we all changelings, shaped by our hopes,
promises made under summer’s sun or
winter’s cold, that chance meeting, a forgotten book, or a thread of melody heard long ago?

I only know this: I would choose
to be a changeling all over again
if it brings me here, to you.

Today’s poem for OctPoWriMo comes from my long fascination with mermaids and a sense that each decision we make brings change – sometimes unanticipated, some with great loss, and some with a sense of coming home.

Tomorrow’s prompt: Womb. Why not join in? http://www.octpowrimo.com/

OctPoWriMo #1: Dark Night of the Soul

That moment when
all has failed,
again,
and you realize
only you can decide
to rise up on shaky legs,
move out of that safe, dark closet,
vulnerable and worn,
eyes open to frailty,
recommitted to this day,
this coming month, this short life,
armed with courage and hope.

October begins with OctPoWriMo, a writing challenge created by Morgan Dragonwillow. She has posted a writing prompt for the next thirty-one days, around the theme, “diving into the shadows to mine for gold.” Go to Morgan’s website http://www.octpowrimo.com/ to read what others have written, to comment, and, if you wish, to post a link to your own poem. 

Today’s challenge: Dark Night of the Soul. Writers are often drawn to write stories about the journey of the hero, a multi-layered and mythic, step-by-step retelling of our very human efforts to become our true selves. This ‘dark night of the soul’ happens when all is lost, and the hero or heroine decides whether to stop trying or to slay the inner dragon and continue the journey. Of course, this happens in ‘real’ life as well. The dark night is when you face down all that could destroy you and decide to believe in your dreams – and yourself.

Tomorrow’s challenge: Changeling. Why not join in?

Writing, Revising, and Deleting!

Stephen King advises writers to "kill your darlings." He was talking about characters, though, not scenes.

Now that the first draft of The Seventh Tapestry is relatively complete, I'm at what's called the structural level of editing. That's when I go through the entire story, looking for what doesn't fit the overall theme or what's missing. In the process, big chunks may get added and some scenes deleted. So, Neil now has one brother, not two. And, Sandra, new to Edinburgh, finds her own apartment -- without Neil's help!

Here's the scene that got cut today -- for your reading pleasure.

     Neil strode away from the Royal Chip Palace, wondering what he was going to do about Sandra. He couldn’t help his reaction to that glimmer of vulnerability in her eyes, that honey blonde hair, maybe falling to her shoulders, and the way she pulled it back into a business-like scruff at the back of her neck. He wanted to touch that hair.
     Her no-nonsense approach covered a glimmer of vulnerability in her eyes, and her outfit couldn’t quite hide curves, though she’d tried with a simple gray suit. When she stood, her long legs took her nearly to his chin. But, she was an American. Probably high maintenance. Or that’s what Ian might say.
     “How about I meet you there?” she’d said. So, she didn’t want him to know where she was staying. No, that wasn’t it. She needs an apartment. He tapped a number on his cell phone. “Colin, can you help me out?”
     “Aye, me brother.”
     “I just met someone. I’d like you to help her get an apartment.”
     “Whoa. Slow down. You just met someone, and you want me to do what?”
     “It’s not like that. She’s working undercover and just got to Edinburgh.”
     “And I wanna meet her.”
     “Not a chance.” Neil grimaced. OK, I don’t want either one of my brothers sniffing around, but I shouldn’t get involved with her either. Even if I want to. He sighed. “Just send me a list, no?”
     “Okay. Short-term or long-term?”
     “I dinna know yet. Maybe three- to six-months?”
     “Nobody’s in the apartment over my shop,” said Colin. “We could keep an eye on her.”
     “I’ll see her tomorrow and let you know. So, anythin’ new?”
     “Nah. Ian’s coming over the night for dinner and a few beers. You want to join us?”
     “I’ll be there. Headed to work now. Thanks for offering the apartment. That might work out very well, if she says yes.”
     “And if she says no?”
     “Dinna worry. That’s why I asked you for a list.”
    “You like her, don’t you?”
     Colin’s laughter echoed as Neil hit the end button on his mobile. Maybe he should just introduce Sandra to both of his brothers and get it over with. But he didn’t want to.

What I learned about Scottish dialect from writing this scene? Just as we almost unconsciously adjust our word choice based on who we're talking to, people in Scotland will use Gaelic slang most with those who are closest. Kind of like not swearing in front of your grandmother. So if you are American or English, expect pretty 'normal' wording with less dialect, unless the situation is charged with emotion.

Other News: My entry, "A Poem for Frida" made the short list for WEP's August Challenge, the Red Wheelbarrow. What a really fine surprise! You can go HERE to read the winners and other submissions and find out more about WEP's every-other-month writing challenge. (WEP stands for Write . . . Edit . . . Publish.) Why not consider entering their October challenge -- just in time for Halloween!

And what are you up to, now that summer is definitely turning to fall?

IWSG: September: A Place to Write

Each month, the Insecure Writer's Support Group posts a question for writers to ponder and write about. September's question: If you could pick one place in the world to sit and write your next story, where would it be and why?


We all remember Humphrey Bogart's, "We'll always have Paris." I would revise that to, "We'll always have Merida."

In February 2018, we spent a month in Merida, Mexico. We rented a house close to the centro. We could walk to our favorite restaurants and open air markets.

House of Frida Restaurant, Merida

The Big Whopper, Merida Style

 Friends came to visit us, and we took day trips to Celestun, Kabah, Uxmal, and Chichen Itzah.

The Nunnery, Chichen Itzah

Great Blue Heron, Celestun

But the mornings began with writing -- whether by the small dipping pool or in the hammock on the rooftop patio.

And for that month, I could drop by Merida's English Library, where a small group of dedicated writers met to critique their work.

Patio Sculpture, Merida English Library

Or we could wander in local museums.

Mermaid Tree of Life, Merida Museum of Popular Art

Facsimile of Mayan Codice, Maya World Museum

Truly, I could travel anywhere in the world and find a place to write. Some places we've lived -- Mexico, Turkey, and France -- still resonate with memories of walks we've taken, history and culture we've discovered, interesting conversations with people we met along the way, and always, time for writing.

May you find your own place that inspires you to write!

Thank you to these hard-working hosts for IWSG's September 4 post: Gwen Gardner, Doreen McGettigan, Tyrean Martinson, Chemist Ken, and Cathrina Constantine!

Labor Day weekend Kindle Book Giveaway!

Standing Stones on Amazon

Just for this Labor Day weekend, you can download STANDING STONES at no cost.

Click here to check it out on Amazon!

Share with friends, if you’re already a fan. And thank YOU for being a follower of my blog.

This story began my love affair with the McDonnell's. Here’s the blurb!

In 1842, Lord Gordon claims his new estate in Northern Scotland and plans to replace farmers and fishermen with sheep. 

Mac McDonnell, suspicious of Lord Gordon from the beginning, leads protests – despite the impact his actions will have on his sister and three brothers. When evictions begin, a second protest at Westness turns violent. What will Mac risk to protect his family, his sweetheart, and his livelihood?

Set in the Orkney Islands during the time of the Clearances, Standing Stones won an award from the Pacific Northwest Writers Association for historical fiction and was called “a very promising work, with appeal to a broad audience, peppered with a variety of characters the reader can identify with sympathetically or instantly distrust.”

PRAISE FOR STANDING STONES:

“Well-developed characters and well-researched background & history made this an excellent book that I found hard to put down. I felt as if I was a friend of the McDonnell family, living on the island and sharing their love and hardships.”

Update on other writing: Working on final revisions for The Seventh Tapestry, a contemporary romantic-suspense set in Scotland with plans to publish before year-end. Here's the blurb: 

Newly hired museum curator Sandra Robertson is pulled into danger when she finds clues to an undiscovered 16th Century tapestry in Scotland and attempts to rescue it from the black market with help from Neil McDonnell, Edinburgh’s Art Crimes Unit.

May the end of summer bring you a sense of celebration as those leaves turn from green to brown and families gather.  Beth

WEP/IWSG August Challenge: A Poem for Frida

Imagine Frida Kahlo at the 7-11,
in that hour before the stars reveal themselves.
She just stands there, checking out
cold rows of Dos Equis in the cooler,
the blistered pizza barely warm,
clicking her red fingernails on a torn Lotto ticket,
glancing out the back window at
a weather-worn, red wheelbarrow on the patio,
bristling with mariposas and frangipani,
barely visible on some warm, summer night.

She would come into that space, trailing incense;
her earrings dangle to her shoulders,
jasmine flowers in her hair.
Her swirling long skirts cover a limp,
her fingers marked with blue and green
and yellow oil paint,
her wide, red lips and dark eyebrows,
dangerous and seditious. Revolutionary.
Her sorrows fall away in jolting lines of color.


WEP/IWSG’s August Challenge asks writers to reflect on William Carlos Williams lovely and short poem, “The Red Wheelbarrow” and see what writing emerges.

I’m remembering that Williams scribbled some of his poems on his way to house calls as he was a doctor. “The Red Wheelbarrow” was written one year before his death. I also learned from Wikipedia that Williams believed that writing poetry was an essential way to understand life. I agree, for the act of writing poetry leads me to observe more specifically and to reflect.

Williams also wished he had painted, admiring his mother’s work. Although many in my family have painted, I’ve always written poetry, though the work and lives of Van Gogh and Frida Kahlo inevitably make me cry.

The wonderful portrait of Frida Kahlo was created by Jane Perkins and is used here by permission. Explore her extraordinary work HERE. And, if you are a Frida-fan, check this out https://hauteculturefashion.com/frida-kahlo-facts/

You may read more about Williams on Wikipedia HERE.

Hard work goes on behind the scenes to make the WEP/IWSG Challenge possible. THANK YOU Denise Covey, Founder/Host. L.G. Keltner - Co-host, Nilanjana Bose, Blurbs/Host, and Olga Godim, Badges. And at IWSG: C. Lee McKenzie, liason IWSG/WEP, Pat Hatt, tweets and promo, Nick Wilford, judge, and Elizabeth Seckman - IWSG Newsletter.

This month's CRITIQUE PRIZE for August 2019 comes from the generosity of
CHRYS FEY  who's promised a critique of a First Chapter, Magazine Submission, or WEP Submission.

Why not read what others have written? See GUIDELINES and LINKY below.

IWSG: May All Your Surprises be Happy!

The first surprise this month came when the introductory chapter to my current writing project got dumped. Totally rewritten. I wasn't expecting a brand new chapter at all, but now the story begins in the middle of action instead of back story. Are you surprised I'm happily working on revisions for the next three months or so? And that new story ideas are popping up? Hard work ahead, but I will persevere.

The second surprise this month began with my granddaughter now seven. She's starting to write her own books, embellished with her drawings. Here's a page from her latest story of the adventures of a Unicorn and a Caticorn (she loves cats). She puts her latest story written on folded pages under her pillow at night, just in case she wants to read it once again.

Her enthusiasm makes me wonder: Exactly when do we begin to express our creativity? Recognize that inner spark that leads us to draw, or write, or sing, or dance? And how is such creativity nurtured?

Do you remember those grade school art classes where our finished works were displayed and critiqued? I knew even then that what I made was for me -- not for an assignment. Art and writing were things I did 'between' other commitments, until that happy, unfettered time (retirement), led me back to writing stories.

We may admire those who set aside all else to simply create -- without worrying about what's next. They seem to have that gift of saying these precious days, here and now, we will cherish and celebrate with our own unique creations. For no one knows how our days are numbered. One question: How do we nurture our own creativity? Every day? For ourselves and those we love?

My last surprise is about my readers. They're reading my books! Against popular advice to indie writers, I do check sales daily. There I find mysterious readers who are buying my books. Are they readers intent on reading that next book in the series? Are they new readers, just starting the adventure? I just don't know, but I'm grateful for everyone who reads my stories and/or who leaves a comment or a review. That's always a truly wonderful surprise. Thank you!

Thank you, Insecure Writer's Support Group (IWSG), for posting a question each month  for writers to ponder. This month by August 7, the question is: Has your writing ever taken you by surprise? For example, a positive and belated response to a submission you'd forgotten about or an ending you never saw coming?

And thank you to those generous co-hosts for the August 7 posting of the IWSG are Renee Scattergood, Sadira Stone, Jacqui Murray, Tamara Narayan, and LG Keltner!  Why not sign up? Check out what other writers have posted this month right here at IWSG?

Not for the Faint of Heart

Several art historians with excellent experiences of working at museums generously volunteered, over the last several weeks, to give me an intensive, behind-the-scenes look at what they did.

I discovered an entirely different culture than anything I experienced while working at an international bank (profit-centered corporate gamesmanship) or teaching college-aged students (collegiality among colleagues and intellectual freedom in my own workspace to nurture students).

Behind closed doors, museum staff offer a passionate mix of idealism, love of history and culture, and a desire to protect, preserve, and share artifacts that illustrate where we've been, what we can create, and what is possible for us all.

What did all this new research mean for my current story, The Seventh Tapestry, about a young woman who discovers thefts at a medieval museum?

At first, my characters and my story seemed as mired in mud as this warthog, spotted on a trip to Tasmania a few years back. After reviewing notes, building new administrative structures for my imaginary museum, and new plot lines, I set all aside.

One day passed without writing. Then, two and three. I fretted a bit as all writers do. And then I remembered a time when my very livelihood had been threatened.

It truly happened like this: I had been working for a large corporation for several years while attending night school. One of the administrative assistants in a different division began receiving abusive and sexually threatening notes left at her workstation. Because of the nature of the threats, an outside investigator was pulled in. 

I knew nothing of this situation until the investigator called me into the president's office and accused me of writing those notes. I was shocked at what the investigator knew of me, where I lived, and what I did outside of work. He interrogated me three times. Then he threatened to fire me, whether I confessed or not.

Despite the president warning my boss not to get involved, he asked me point blank if I were involved. I said no. He said I was not going to be ‘interviewed’ again without him present. I was encouraged to take my two-week vacation, not knowing if I would have a job when I returned. 

When I came back from vacation, the case was solved. Everyone knew that the administrative assistant had written those notes herself. She was gone. The investigator was gone. No one apologized to me for this devastating experience. 

What on earth does this experience have to do with my story? Remembering the shock of those accusations, that sense of betrayal, I began writing anew. All fell into place. I was ready to step outside job descriptions and 'torture' my characters. The joy of writing THIS story returned! 

This saying makes me smile.
We writers do play with words, but we are never 'faint of heart.'
The picture was taken near Redmond, Oregon.

July IWSG: Finding the Pearl

This month's question from Insecure Writer's Support Group asks writers to explore "What personal traits have you written into your character(s)?"

My first blush reaction was, "Gosh. I don't know." 

But then I realized all of my protagonists fight the good fight. They're stubborn and independent, taking on impossible odds, facing challenges that come from sweeping economic and political change we have little control over. They're kind, compassionate, idealistic, and they fight for change. They struggle. They fail. They persevere. These are the good guys we all want to be.

And my antagonists, caught up with greed, set aside their concern for others to achieve their goals. Shaped by nightmares, cultural expectations of race and class, driven by their own egos, they wreak havoc in a world I don't want to be a part of. They are faceless night monsters, unethical, and quick to forgive their own weaknesses. They appeal to others because they can be charismatic, seductive, and then manipulative. I try to find their redeeming qualities. Writing the villain is the toughest challenge I face.

Famous film-maker Federico Fellini (1920-1993) once said, "All art is autobiographical; the pearl is the oyster's autobiography."

A page from Sandra Brown Jensen's amazing journal.
Used with permission.

What a shining sense of what a person's (or character's) life can mean.

Here's the rub. Neither we nor our characters can escape our pasts. What we write has the potential to influence others. That's a responsibility and a challenge we may not see when we're knee-deep in our stories. For as we construct a character trait by trait, experience by experience, we confront our villains anew.

Don't we all hope to find that pearl in our villains' autobiography? And aren't we all working for that sometimes hard to find 'happy for now' ending?


With special thanks to Erika Beebe, Natalie Aguirre, Jennifer Lane, MJ Fifield, Lisa Buie-Collard, and Ellen @ The Cynical Sailor! for hosting this July 3 posting of IWSG. Why not check out what others have written -- or join in IWSG right HERE?

WEP June 2019 Challenge: Caged Bird

 This month's WEP/IWSG writing challenge popped up in my e-mail, distracting me away from 'regular' writing. I was intrigued by the new collaboration between these two online writing communities, so here's my entry, a flash fiction following the theme (353 words). NOTE: This is a blog hop. Please see the links below and have fun reading where this month's prompt takes a variety of writers!

"Caged Birds"

Myrtle quick-stepped to keep pace with the tour guide leading their small group along the jungle trail. Myrtle was eager to see everything despite the humidity pressing down on her and George’s slow pace a few lengths behind.

Freed from their tiny cabin in the bowels of the cruise ship on an overnight excursion, they hiked along a mountain path to a nature preserve high in the Honduran hills. Here, parrots flew free, their red and turquoise and yellow feathers flashes of light in the intense green jungle. The birds wheeled through the trees, calling to each other. A few landed in pairs to preen.

As the light faded, the small group gathered at the nature preserve's open air patio to drink tea and talk about what they’d seen. Myrtle slipped her ice cubes into a large pot that held a fern. She wasn’t sure about drinking the water or the tea.

At dusk, the bus with no seat belts took everyone back to their hotel. Myrtle chattered all the way past the patio filled with red hibiscus and up the winding stairs to their second floor room, the windows open to the garden below.

“Did you think, George, you and me, that we’d ever see anything so wonderful as those birds?”

“It’s why we came,” said George. “That and to celebrate fifty years of marriage.”

“I know, George, but the parrots, they were so beautiful. I read somewhere that they live longer in a cage than they do in the forest.” She took George’s hand. “I read they mate for life.”

“And that’s like us, dear.”

She smiled. “Maybe we can get a parrot when we get home. Think of it. One of those beautiful parrots to wake us each day.”

That night, Myrtle slept close to George, surrounded by layers of mosquito netting, dreaming of parrots and the journey home. But in the morning, George did not wake. Myrtle sat beside him in the quiet of their room, holding his hand, now cold.

“Ah, George,” she murmured. “We got to see the parrots. They belong here. Not in a cage, George. Never in a cage.”

Full critique acceptable: 350 words.

Scarlet Macaws (Matthew Romack, Wikipedia)

For more information about WEP, click: Write...Edit...Publish or for IWSG, click: Insecure Writer's Support Group. Write on! 

IWSG: Writing into the dark . . .

Just this last week, I read Nora Roberts' Black Hills as a model for writing romantic suspense. With the first paragraphs, she established her characters, the setting, the mood, and the story conflict with precision. I read her story because I wanted to study what made her romantic suspense so compelling for readers. Then I found out that she has written 225 books. Oofta, as my Hollywood mother would say.

We writers shimmy around our stories. Sometimes, the words pour out and sometimes they just stop. In my quest for more efficient writing productivity, I track words daily, use chapter summaries, scaffolding instead of outlines, and I imagine what my characters would say to each other. Sometimes I get caught up more in revision than writing. But, I persevere and hope to meet a very modest daily word count. Even when I revise and even when I draft.

I wonder what writing process Nora Roberts uses. 

And then a writing friend said, "Beth, you seem so organized. I never realized you are an intuitive writer. Have you heard of Dean Wesley Smith's book, Writing Into the Dark?"  Kaboom! Thank goodness for Amazon. Within 3 days, I had my own copy. My favorite advice so far? "Write one sentence," says Dean Wesley Smith. "Then, write another sentence." And, for the first time in decades, I heard someone truly say, "There is no one right way to write a novel."  Did I mention he's written over 150 books?

This merry month of June, the IWSG's question is: Of all the genres you read and write, which is your favorite to write in and why?

I'm never sure why something I see along the way sticks and somehow morphs into a story. But that germ pushes me to write speculative fiction, historical fiction, and now romantic suspense. One sentence at a time.

Why not click your way over to the Insecure Writer's Support Group and read what others have posted? With thanks to Diane Burton, Kim Lajevardi, Sylvia Ney, Sarah Foster, Jennifer Hawes, and Madeline Mora-Summonte for hosting IWSG this month!

And a very special thank you to Dean Wesley Smith -- and Nora Roberts.

A community of writers and readers . . .

This week, I had the privilege of sitting down with a group of readers. A local book club at the Medical Lake Library invited me to talk with them about my books and how I came to write them.

They warmly welcomed me and plied me with home-made peanut butter cookies. They listened with patience as I talked about how I became a writer. Then, they asked questions about my stories, my writing routine, and when (oh, when), that next book would be ready for them to read. A few talked about their own writing projects and asked how they might get started.

"Thank you," I said, at the end of the hour-and-a-half we spent together. But thank you seems so inadequate for this committed group of readers, supporters of literacy in their community, and lovers of the written word.

Most of the time, I write alone. I ponder and dream. I revise and edit. And revise again. I wonder if my stories are good enough for that next step -- publication. For  now, it's spring. A time to be grateful that winter has passed. We can think of new beginnings -- or share our stories.

May this turn of the season be very good to you.

Spring and a favorite walk
through the Rose Garden in Manito Park

IWSG: The first time . . .

Maybe the first time I thought that 'language had power' (this month's question for the Insecure Writer's Support Group), happened when I was a teenager. I wrote secretly. Short stories, poems. Rarely shared. But once I slipped a short story into a pile of assignments that my English home room teacher had collected. I was thrilled at her note of encouragement.

But the first time I really felt language had power happened when I was about 9. My younger sister had been sent to the grocery store by herself to buy something. I can't remember now what. Eggs. Milk. She held back a few pennies to buy candy, and my mother found out. I was standing in the kitchen, when my mother hit my sister so hard that her head bounced against the pantry door. "You will never lie to me," my mother screamed, and I remember thinking, "Someday, I will write about this."

I left home to go to college at 17 at a time when tuition was free. I only had to pay for my books (and work part-time). I was happy to escape into a world of books, art, literature, and classes with teachers. Maybe those teachers drank, I didn't know. Their words, their lectures filled me with hope.

Much of my life has been spent involved in writing in some way. First, with technical reports as I worked my way through college. Later, I taught composition, business and technical writing, some literature, and humanities at a community college, much like the one that inspired me so long ago. And, once I retired, I returned to writing, to tell the stories that generally involve people fighting against the odds, struggling for survival, regardless of circumstances around them. Sound familiar?

For me, that's the power of words that have shaped (and continue to shape) my life. An old Scottish saying tells us, "In love and life, we have no fear." I believe that is true for writing as well.

Why not join in this month's challenge? Or, visit those hosts for this May posting for IWSG:  Lee Lowery, Juneta Key, Yvonne Ventresca, and T. Powell Coltrin!

Spring at Manito Park

IWSG: About Blushes and Beginnings

At first blush, this month's question from the Internet Writer's Support Group looks far too easy. If I could somehow magically write [not perfect, but very good], just one scene or chapter for my current wip, which one would it be?

The first chapter.

See? Easy. But my current writing project, The Seventh Tapestry (a contemporary romantic suspense about a lost 16th Century tapestry) has me jumping into a new genre (romantic suspense), and writing from a first person point of view (also new). Here are some strategies I've been using for the last year:

• Read lots of romantic suspense. Ken Follett is always my favorite, but Amazon's LOOK INSIDE feature allows me to study that opening chapter without overspending my book budget.
• Research and study what makes a good romantic suspense tale. To start, I've used that trusty Google search: tips for writing romantic suspense. Print out what's useful and take notes. Ditto for writing from first person pov and strategies for writing in general, including that first chapter.
• Draft.  Apparently the suspense plotline must be carefully (and logically) drawn -- and romantic suspense has TWO plot lines, one for romance and one for suspense. Of course, they have to meld. If you already outline first and draft those character back stories, your drafting process works more smoothly (or so they say). But I'm an intuitive writer, jumping around as the story moves me. I'd like to be more efficient . . . but that shoe doesn't fit.
• Critiques of work in progress. I'm very grateful for feedback from my F2F writing partner as we meet weekly most weeks. The online resource that consistently  helps me strengthen my story and my writing is the NOVELS-L group of The Internet Writing Workshop. For every chapter I submit to NOVELS-L, I need to critique 2 subs from other writers. Critiques of other writers helps me see my own work a little differently. The real gold, though, is in those critiques I receive -- at every level of analyzing my chapter from writers who take the whole process seriously.

Just now, I'm submitting first draft chapters to NOVELS-L while I finish the last chapters of the whole story. The coming year promises deep revision, but I love the story, and I'm ready to go to work. First chapter? I don't need any magic. In fact, all I need is the tenacity, insight, and, hopefully, the creativity that we all bring to our writing.

Can't wait to see what others have written about that first chapter!

With special thanks to readers and writing friends far and near, online or not,
who encourage each of us -- including the wonderful co-hosts for the April 3 posting of the Insecure Writer's Support Group (IWSG): J.H. Moncrieff, Natalie Aguirre, Patsy Collins, and Chemist Ken!

IWSG's April 3 Question: If you could use a wish to help you write just ONE scene/chapter of your book, which one would it be? (examples: fight scene, first kiss scene, death scene, chase scene, first chapter, middle chapter, end chapter, etc.)

Kate Weiland's blog

IWSG: On Writing Heroes

Here he comes to save the day!

I never thought about whose perspective to write from. Nearly all my stories are about survival against impossible odds, the heroine or hero 'leaping tall buildings at a single bound,' fighting against and through limitations and/or challenges brought about by economic shifts, class, gender, and pure evil.

Happiness can be an illusion. I know this far too well, despite decades of a happy marriage. For I trust those happy-for-now endings; life itself is never static, presenting each of us unexpected plot twists.

In the 1950's, that oh-so-handsome Prince Charming was expected to carry a working class girl off to a castle somewhere. The shoe fit, for I grew up in a physically abusive, blue collar family, where chaos could and did erupt on any weekend.

My mother's motto, "Don't let the bastards grind you down," taught me to fight back. And, I did. Despite reams of social studies that say each generation walks the same path, one of my sisters and I escaped, got educations, and built, brick by slow brick, positive relationships and rewarding careers.

The biggest writing challenge? Writing male characters -- protagonists or antagonists -- who are not abusive in overt or subtle ways, for our stories work on so many different levels.

Someone once said that each writer writes the same story over and over again, like striking a single note on a bell. But I believe just as we learn craft with each revision, we also can gain insight into not only how we write but what we write about, including the deepest themes that shape our work.

And that's what brings me back to the process of writing itself, a kind of anchor that lets me dream past my childhood and shape my own destiny, inventing worlds where my heroines and heroes really do achieve that happy-ever-after ending.

May your own writing -- and all else -- go well!

With special thanks to readers and writing friends far and near, online or not,
who encourage each of us -- including the awesome co-hosts for the March 6 posting of the Insecure Writer's Support Group (IWSG): Fundy Blue, Beverly Stowe McClure, Erika Beebe, and Lisa Buie-Collard!

IWSG's March 6 question: Whose perspective do you like to write from best, the hero (protagonist) or the villain (antagonist)? And why?

(Source: Meme)

IWSG: February and back on the road

Maybe I moved around too much as a kid. Worse than an army brat. Attended maybe 8-9 different high schools -- and as many colleges. I always dreamed of settling down someday in one of those pretty little cottages behind a white picket fence. And then I met a man who loved to travel all over the world. That was over 40 years ago.

We can't rattle the suitcases at our house. Usually if one person says, "Let's go (doesn't matter where)," the other person will say, "Well . . . ." But at our house, if one of us says, "Let's go," the other person says, "Where are the suitcases?"

Tomorrow morning, January 28, we'll awake at 4:15 am to catch the first of three flights to Miami Beach, a short stop on our way to Seville, Spain, for a month-long stay, all of February. I'm taking my netbook, a few working files, and am more than ready to shake the snow off my boots, settle down on the patio, watch the birds fly from palm tree to palm tree, and write. With time off for an occasional coffee at one of those sidewalk cafes or a visit to a local museum.

If the Insecure Writer's Support Group question for February is: "What inspires you to write?" Then I can only answer this: When we're on the road, all that is non-essential seems to fall away. I gain distance to those issues that underlie my stories, and feel at home really just anywhere, as long as I can write.

That's my wish for you, regardless if you stay at home or write whenever or wherever you please. May you find the words that bring you joy.

Check out what others are writing for February's check-in HERE at IWSG's website. Visit a few folks. And celebrate what inspires YOU to write!

Just Jot It in January!

I've been pretty sick for the last seven days, enough so that my writing has completely stalled. Yesterday was the first day I sat down at my computer to begin to catch up with reading and posting . . . perhaps on my blogs.

Several of my online writing friends mentioned playing around with Just Jot It January, an idea created by Linda G. Hill that encourages us to jot those ideas down, even a sentence! That sounded pretty perfect to me, since I haven't been writing at all. For the first time, as I sat quietly in the library, staring out the window at a winter scene, thinking about writing, Inspired also by Rui Chan's haiku, I used the NOTEPAD feature on my I-phone to jot down this:

Like crocus pushing their way up

through the cold earth, 

I begin healing,

winter into spring, 

once again.

Linda's website offers daily prompts and guidelines, and so I shall persevere as I dive back into my own writing with #JustJoJan. Why not join in?

IWSG: 2019 begins

I'd like to share that 2018 ended beautifully. It sort of did, if you set aside the residue and hard work involved in moving from one apartment to another, and nearly two months of very bad colds. Thank goodness for Sudafed!

My BookBub promotion paid for itself and ACX kicked in an unexpected sales boom, but marketing overall has slowed nearly to a stop as I work on a new genre -- romantic suspense set in Edinburgh and Paris.

In The Seventh Tapestry, American archivist and investigator Sandra Robertson comes to Edinburgh to track down a pattern of missing artifacts at the Museum of Medieval Art. Along the way, she finds a historic and undiscovered 15th Century tapestry and is drawn to Neil McDonnell from Edinburgh's Art Crimes Unit. I'm about 40K into the story. Just this month, I decided to switch from third person to first person, mostly because I feel closer to my main character and the details of the story flow more easily (Yes, I have my storyboard up and mapped out) -- even including the seasons.

Winter in Edinburgh (Source: edinburgh.org)

Least favorite question: When will this story be done? Published and ready to read? I say 'least favorite' because I'm more of an intuitive writer and do lots of research. I'm never quite sure when my story is finished!

Most favorite question: I love X character because . . .  Why did character X do this? Will another book follow these characters? How did you find the research that supports this story?

Happy New Year. May 2019 be filled with good reading, lots of writing, good health, and a few adventures to keep things interesting!

With special thanks to Alex Cavanaugh and this month's hosts: Co-Hosts: Patricia Lynne, Lisa Buie-Collard, Kim Lajevardi, and Fundy Blue! Why not visit the Insecure Writer's Study Group and see what other IWSG writers are up to?