Telling Tuesdays 2/7/12-"He dreaded the news."

Welcome to Telling Tuesday, a day reminiscent of those in school when I looked forward to seeing what everyone brought for show and tell. This weekly feature was inspired by an article on WriteToDone.com, called "How to Show (Not Tell): A Writing Lesson from John LeCarre."


It is one of the best articles I've seen on the rule all writers know--show, don't tell--because it doesn't just tell us how not to tell, it shows us some of LeCarre's very own examples.

" . . . descriptions can set the scene, convey the inexpressible, and turn the reader into a witness, instead of remaining a mere bystander." -- Mary Jaksch, author of the article

Each week, I'll give a "telling" prompt, and invite you to show us, to make us a witness, not a mere bystander. Feel free to use the prompt, or the photo (if a photo is shown.) Of course, if you have a completely different "telling" prompt, you can "show" us that, too.


As always, I invite you to leave a link to your website or blog with your comments.


THIS WEEK'S PROMPT:


He dreaded the news.

The following is an excerpt from Broken Dolls. The scene takes place in December, 1941. Terrence is unable to get into the Christmas spirit, because he misses his daddy, who is stationed at Pearl Harbor.

Missy and Patty serenaded all the way home. Jingle bells, jingle bells. Over and over. Way too many times.

Terrence shook his head. “Come on, you two. Don’t you know any other songs?”

Wouldn’t matter none. He just wasn’t in the mood, even with a tree tied to the top of the car. Even with Christmas carols and colored lights showing through windows everywhere. It’d be a fine scene – if only Daddy was home.

Momma turned into the driveway. “Wonder why Brother Harold’s sitting on our porch swing? And who’s that man . . . in the uniform?” Her voice faded to a whisper.

Patty and Missy stopped singing.

No.

The whole world came to a stop. The talking. The movement. The breathing. Something buzzed in his ear and clutched Terrence’s heart tight. Wouldn’t let go. Might never let go.

No.

Momma’s hands clutched the steering wheel. She whispered real slow. “You kids . . . go on in the house now. I be there in a minute.”

Terrence lifted Missy out of the car and took Patty’s hand. No matter how bad he didn’t want to know, he knew.

Let’s just back up, Momma. Get back in the car. Get back to the Christmas tree lot. I promise I won’t complain about looking for the perfect tree. Won’t never complain about having to get up early. Just please. No way. No way do we want none of what Brother Harold has to tell us.

Terrence nodded as he shuffled past Brother Harold. But he couldn’t—wouldn’t—look him in the eye.

Brother Harold touched him on the shoulder with his large, warm hand. It sent shivers all over, tensed every part of his body.

Once inside the house, Terrence put Missy down and shut the front door. “You two go on and play now,” he said.

Missy ran off to her room, but Patty stared at her brother, her eyes looking more scared than he’d ever seen them. “I don’t want to play. Why’s Brother Harold here? Is it Dad—”

Don’t you say it!

“I said, go on now Patty. I wanna talk to Momma when she comes in.”

He pressed his ear to the door, wanting to hear, yet so desperately not wanting to hear. His heart begged for a way—any way—to stop time, to go back in time.

Morrill's Monday Morning Mashup - 2/6/12

MASH-UP

A creative combination

or mixing of content

from different sources.

The last week reinforced something I've known all along: Technology is both a blessing and a curse.

The blessing was my cell phone. One rainy night last week as I drove home from Tulsa, my tire pressure light came on. I was five miles onto a dark, windy, lonely country road, so I tapped the light and hoped it would go off. It didn't, and within two minutes came the awful, whiny, rumbling sound of a flat tire. In the pouring rain, I searched for a place to pull over, but muddy ditches lined both sides of the road. At last, I approached a gravel driveway and pulled off the road. I prayed for a cell phone signal.

Relieved to find a signal, I called my husband, then AAA. I have to say, AAA is the modern day version of a knight in shining armor. From the representative on the phone to the husband and wife team who came to my rescue, they were friendly and professional, even as they got wet and muddy in the pouring rain, changing my flat tire.

It scares me to think about what the night would have been like had I not had a cell phone. I would have either had to wait to be rescued by hopefully a kind soul, or I would have had to walk to a house and ask for help. Oh, I guess I could have changed the tire myself, too.

I saw technology as a curse when my Internet was up and down most of the weekend. Even when it was up, it was painfully slow. I realized how much I depend on the Internet, not only to stay in touch, but to conduct business: paying bills, purchase airline tickets, research for my book, even research for this mashup. When the Internet is down, all of that comes to a stop. And when it's slow, I sit in front of the computer, pulling my hair out.

I guess it'd be more appropriate to say we've gotten so accustomed to the Internet being blessing that we feel cursed when suddenly it's taken away. We have cursed ourselves by becoming so reliant on its blessing.

Now . . . on to the mashup!

Agent Kristin Nelson (Nelson Literary Agency, LLC) has an excellent blog where she regularly posts invaluable information on being an agent as well as blogging on the publishing industry. Her "Agenting 101" series provides information on almost anything you might want to know about the agenting process. Her style is easy and friendly, but also very blunt and to-the-point. I also like that at the beginning of her posts, she lets us know what music is playing on her iPod. http://pubrants.blogspot.com/

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Another agent, Janet Reid of Fine Print Literary Management, posts on the blog, Query Shark. This is an excellent blog on the querying process, where writers can submit their queries for honest (okay, sometimes brutally honest) critique. The great thing about the blog is that Ms. Reid shares the critique so that we can all learn from it. http://queryshark.blogspot.com/

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The Center for Fiction has created a website so full of information, I'm still exploring my way through it. But the page, "For Writers" contains relevant topics such as "Writers on Writing" and "The Book Business." It's an excellent website to sit down and peruse with your morning cup of coffee.  http://www.centerforfiction.org

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QUOTE OF THE WEEK:

And then the day came

when the risk to remain

tight in a bud was

more painful than the

risk to bloom.

               ---Anais Nin

Secret Saturday - 2/4/12: "Closet Secrets"

Well, I'm a day late with my new feature, "Secret Saturday," because the Internet Squirrels quit running at the farm yesterday. But, now that I'm back in the virtual world again, here we go:

I love secrets. I love to hear them, and love to tell them . . . to the right people. I see secrets as tidibits, juicy morsels of information that bring us closer to each other.

So, I decided to start a new feature, "Secret Saturday," where we can all share a little secret. It doesn't have to be a big secret, just anything we might not already know--about you, about history, about the world. Share a secret from your childhood, if that feels safer. Or a secret recipe. Or, what the heck . . . give us a whopper.

In Broken Dolls, when my character, Sachiko, finally reveals who she "really is," she writes this haiku:

A porcelain mask

Once broken, but now removed

My true face revealed

We can all remove our masks, even in tiny ways. It can be fun, but it can also be freeing. Share something with us . . . anything. And feel free to share a link to your own website or blog, too.

By the way, did you know that on average, a woman can only keep a secret for 32 minutes? Read about it on the Huffington Post. Click here.

THIS WEEK'S SECRET:

When I was a young teenager, I had a secret place where I went to write things that I didn't want anybody else to know. But today, I'll take you with me, back to my house on Coolidge Street in California . . . to my bedroom . . . into my closet. There, behind my hanging clothes, I would write on the wall. Yes, the wall, where I wasn't supposed to write, which made my secret place all the more delightful, all the more mine.

Of course, as a young teen girl, most of what I wrote was who I had a crush on:

J.M.

+

R.R.

But I also wrote down my dreams, wishes and other things I thought people would think silly if they knew. I wished my parents would not argue. I wished we didn't have to move to Japan. (That wish came true, but now I wish we had moved there -- an experience lost.)

I wrote down my anger about things I couldn't outwardly be angry about, like every time I wanted to scream at my mom for grounding me.

After I'd written what I held inside, I moved the clothes back in place, and my closet held my secrets safe. When it was time for me to leave home, I took a big, pink eraser, shoved the hanging clothes aside, and erased what I'd shared in my secret world.

I don't know if anyone ever knew about that tiny place where I spilled my heart, but I suspect not. I was a typical teenager with sisters and a brother, and that information was too valuable not to use as ammunition against me in sibling battles. None of my co-combatants ever used it against me. So, either they never found it, or they had bigger hearts than I gave them credit for.

#FlashFriday #FridayFictioneers: The Chosen One

What a beautiful photo prompt by Madison Woods this week. Her photo prompts are typically challenging and stimulating, but this week the challenge for me was not to try to think of a story idea, but to pick a story idea from the several that popped into my head.

As always, I'm excited to read what everybody else wrote. Check out the other stories on Madison's blog!

The Chosen One

She would not be afraid.

Dressed in a clean, white gown, she walked up the mountain. Mother on one side, Father on the other.

She would not be afraid.

Still, she felt her father’s hand tremble on her arm. Heard her mother’s whimpers.

She would not be afraid.

The One to whom she’d been promised heaved before her, his breath hot and angry. They told her she would calm him.

She would not be afraid.

Cresting the volcano, she watched orange flames leap before her like a lover’s fingers, hungry to touch.

But she would not be afraid.

An Interview with Author, Brian C. Conley

A few years ago, the Northwest Arkansas Writers Workshop was lucky enough to have Brian C.Conley as an attending member. Each week, we looked forward to hearing the voices of the characters in his novel, The Neighborhood. So much so, many of us refused to believe him when he told us he and his family were moving away from Arkansas. Unfortunately, no amount of creative reasoning, even by a group of writers, could make him stay. He remains an honorary member, and thankfully, social media lets us keep in touch and follow his successes.

I hope you enjoy getting to know about Brian and his writing.

1) As writers, we often find certain characteristics in books that make them memorable. What makes you most enjoy reading a book – writing style, voice, sense of place, the story or something else? How have you incorporated that characteristic into your writing?

I guess my only barometer for total enjoyment is whether or not I'm thinking about the book a week or more after I'm done reading it, regardless of style, voice, etc. But there are characteristics I've lifted from certain authors: Chuck Palauniuk's style, James Patterson's brevity, John Steinbeck, Guy Johnson and Elliot Perlman's scope in dealing with multi-character stories, and Edwidge Danticat's soulfulness. I think my humor's more influenced by television, though. Elmore Leonard once said something that's always stuck with me: "Leave out all the parts you tend to skip when you're reading." That advice has influenced my writing more than anything else.

2) What are the similarities and what are the differences in your first novel, Stay and your second novel, The Neighborhood?

I would say the only similarity between the two is that they were written by the same guy. They differ in tone, style, subject matter, theme, setting, length, maturity and skill levels of "the same guy", and the cover art (one's in color, the other's black & white).
 

3) Is there a message you wanted readers to carry with them long after they finished reading each?

There's no message with The Neighborhood; my only hope is that readers enjoy the book and tell others about it. Make it a book club selection and whatnot. As far as Stay is concerned, I just wanted to show that even though men are not wired or raised to show our emotions in relationships, we do have them. And that some of our most hateful actions can come from a loving place, we just don't always know what to do with those loving emotions, especially if they make us feel like a girl.
 

4) You describe Stay as: "Told in Anthony’s words to the new woman in his life, follow the story of a young man trying to do what few men attempt: To explain to his woman why he is the way he is."

This book would be a great book club selection. What are two questions you would want a book club to discuss about Stay?

1. Did you make it past the first half?
2. By the end, did you understand the point of the first half?

I believe Stay has been unfairly judged as "raunchy", "smut", and so on, though mostly by those with delicate sensibilities like my godmother and church-going friends. True, the first half is racy, but it evolves into a genuine love story because the main character evolves from a man whose only interest in women were sexual to a man who can't fight the emotional pull the love interest had on him. Being that the story was told in his words, I had to be true to what he thought and felt.
 

5)  One of my favorite quotes on writing is by Madeleine L’Engle: “When I’m writing, I’m listening.” So, I was particularly interested in what you said on your Amazon author page:

          Long aware of his talents, his beloved parents, in an attempt to lend some direction to their wayward son (and perhaps to prevent him from moving back in with them), enrolled Conley in a creative writing class at Rice University. He was, as they say, a hit. 

          Since then, the prolific writer has gone on to publish one short story (Voices Volume II Anthology), and two novels - Stay and The Neighborhood.

            He lives in North Dallas with his wife, two children, and thousands of voices in his head.

What have you found to be the best way to “listen” to those voices in your head?

Just to let them talk. It's the same way I've learned to listen to the voices in my house. (Just to be clear, I'm talking about my wife and children, not ghosts.)
 

6) My most challenging character in Broken Dolls was Terrence, a black teenager. Not only was he outside of my race, he was outside of my gender. As you know, I struggled with his voice. Since then, I have been intrigued by the question of whether or not a person can (or should) write outside of his/her race or gender. (Click here to see my post, “Color of a Voice.") What are your thoughts?

I remember you having that issue. My issue with helping you was that even though I was once a black teenager, I wasn't alive during the time in which your story was set, so I had no idea how a black teenager spoke during WWII.

I think a writer can and should write outside of his/her race or gender. The problem is when the effort devolves into caricature and stereotype. I have two white characters in The Neighborhood. Neither speak alike because I never concerned myself with how white people speak, but with how these two people speak.

You can't say, "My character speaks this way because (random racial group) people speak this way. But I will admit that non-white writers may have an advantage (sad as it may be)in writing white characters because of the multitude of personalities shown in the media, whereas non-whites are not shown in nearly as many variations. My advice to white writers seeking to write about non-white characters is to read books and magazines written by and for your character's ethnic group. Watch their tv shows. You'll learn that one size (or voice) does not fit all.

7) What’s next for Brian C. Conley?

I'm currently developing a sitcom pilot, a dramatic series adapted from one of my favorite novels, two comedic memoirs, and a psycho-sexual novel and screenplay tie-in. It's those damn voices fault! Whichever voice speaks the loudest and has the best story gets first dibs.

Brian, thank you for sharing some of your thoughts on my blog. On a personal note, I most appreciate your insights on writing outside of one's race. Like you said, "The problem is when the effort devolves into caricature and stereotype." For someone unfamiliar with the nuances of an ethnic group, "getting it right" without crossing the line is a big challenge. I've followed your suggestion to read books "written by and for your character's ethnic group," and that has helped a lot.

By the way, the Northwest Arkansas Writers still miss your reading and critique!

Enter a comment by Wednesday, February 15

for a chance to win an autographed copy of THE NEIGHBORHOOD!

To follow Brian:

Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/bcconley

To purchase Stay:
http://www.amazon.com/Stay-Brian-Conley/dp/0595442447/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1328061290&sr=8-2

To purchase The Neighborhood:
http://www.amazon.com/Neighborhood-Brian-C-Conley/dp/1606530380/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1328061290&sr=8-1