Category Archives: Writing

Gone, Not Forgotten

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Outtakes #19

 Gone, Not Forgotten

I opened DEAD BY NIGHTFALL, the final installment in the DEAD BY trilogy, and read the sweetest memorial to a favorite author. Beverly Beaver, known to her fans as Beverly Barton, had passed away.

Beverly Barton was an award winning New York Times bestselling author of more than fifty books. She had over five million copies of her books in print in fifteen different languages. Her family referred to her writing as her dream career. I’ve read many of her books. She was a master with writing series novels. I would get hooked on book one and then watch the bookstore shelves for the next novel. I was a fan, but I never wrote to let her know how many hours of reading enjoyment she provided me. I never thanked her for teaching me about writing. While we did not meet, her writings gave me insight into improving my own work.

You see, Beverly Barton crafted memorable characters. Her heroes are men with pasts, full of flaws, and searching for redemption. They never excuse their mistakes. Instead they accept responsibility and move forward. They will give their lives to protect those they love. In like manner, heroines are the epitome of the line from the old song, “I am woman, hear me roar”. Her women have strength combined with a softer, nurturing side. They can survive without a man in their lives, but when they meet the man, they commit themselves to the relationship. Like their men, they have flaws, but they accept their imperfections, and grow in spite of them. I learned from her works that villains do not have to have a redeeming quality. After all, true evil does exist in this world.

Beverly’s settings are perfection. She writes of rural towns and mountain communities. Her characters thrive in world capitals. She has the knack of moving the good and the evil seamlessly from a private fortress in the United States to the perverted dens of iniquity in Europe, to Asian locals, and to the south Pacific Islands.

She made me believe what I don’t believe. Through her settings, characterizations, and description, I came to accept the existence of empaths, clairvoyants, and healers. She didn’t force me to believe; instead she created a path that allowed me to come to terms with the concepts and suspend by disbelief.

This talented author entertained me, taught me, and helped me to improve my craft. I will truly miss her stories and her lessons.

Cait Collins

The Cast

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POST CARDS FROM THE MUSE

The Cast

Auditions are now open for your story. You need a cast of characters to carry this tale and it’s time to find them.

First we need a main character who normally is the protagonist. This is the person through whose view point we see the world. This person tells us thoughts and actions, intentions, and feelings. We want him/her to be the good guy and win in the end.

Next we need an antagonist, traditionally the bad guy. This character tries to stop the main character from reaching their goal, whether on purpose with diabolical evil or strictly by accident. This character can be someone who starts out one way then changes in midstream, or can be a person who never changes or wavers an inch while the protagonist grows and matures. The antagonist doesn’t even have to be a person at all but nature or even the protagonist against himself.

The fun begins when we mix it all up. Maybe our main character is not a good guy. Maybe our protagonist is really the bad guy and we use him to show the world the other side of the coin. And then the antagonist can be the one trying to thwart the bad guy.

I have heard some famous actors say that playing the bad guy in a play or movie is the most fun acting.

Open your imagination to the “what ifs” of the darker side of the world and have some fun.

Congratulations. You have just received a post card from the muse.

By Nandy Ekle

William Faulkner

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“It is the writer’s privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart.”

William Faulkner

by Sharon Stevens

 This last August as I was putting books on the shelf for the fall semester at WTAMU I came across the textbook, “History of Women In America” by Janet Coryell, required in Professor Jean Stuntz’s history class. Since it was a used text I thumbed through it and came across the radio speech First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt gave on the eve of the bombing of Pearl Harbor.

I can only imagine how the speech writers must have scrambled franticly for just the right words that day to set the tone for the wife of the president. How Mrs. Roosevelt herself must have agonized as she trembled within to address all those who would listen to her voice, the emotion she knew she must convey. I wonder as well what copy the sponsor, The Pan American Coffee Bureau, had to toss out in support of the history unfolding that could very well affect relations with South America.

This history book is no longer on the shelf. It had been bought by a college student four months ago. So instead on the anniversary of the “day that would live in infamy” I Googled and read those words again, and listened to a recording of what Mrs. Roosevelt spoke December 7, 1941. She noted her husband was hard at work conferring with his cabinet, the heads of state, and even to the Ambassador to Japan. In so many words she was telling the nation that he had everything well in hand and to leave the worrying to him, a sentiment at the time. But she didn’t discount the fears of the mothers, the young people, the community. She, or her speech writers, knew she only had a few minutes with which to celebrate the strength of our United States built on one hundred and sixty five years of sacrifice on American soil.

The world couldn’t know that seventy years later you just had to touch a screen or keypad to take you anywhere in the universe you wanted to travel. Within seconds I pulled up a transcript of that moment in time. I listened to the cultured voice of the president’s wife, the strong words of an American soldier, and the light copy of the advertising sponsor. But the message will always remain the same. Year after year anyone can research any moment of any time recorded in history.

I treasure the ability to read, to research, to remember, to write, to memorialize. I celebrate that generations yet to be born will for a thousand, no a million years be able to question and argue history as it unfolds, all the while looking back on the past as it impacts our future.

I wonder what key points speech writers will write for the president on that day to commemorate our military and those on the home front at the anniversary of Pearl Harbor. All the while as the American people hold their hands over their hearts as the Star Spangled Banner is played.

The following is an excerpt of Eleanor Roosevelt’s speech.

“…You have friends and families in what has suddenly become a danger zone. You cannot escape anxiety. You cannot escape a clutch of fear at your heart and yet I hope that the certainty of what we have to meet will make you rise above these fears. We must go about our daily business more determined than ever to do the ordinary things as well as we can and when we find a way to do anything more in our communities to help others, to build morale, to give a feeling of security, we must do it. Whatever is asked of us I am sure we can accomplish it.

We are the free and unconquerable people of the United States of America!”

Sharon Stevens

Are You Writing in the Right Genre?

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Are You Writing in the Right Genre?

By Natalie Bright

The question was posed at a romance writers workshop in Wichita Falls by Jane Graves, an award winning author of contemporary romance. Her advice was to, “hone in on the one thing that speaks to you.”

I’ve always been a huge fan of historical romance, and that seemed the obvious direction when I decided to expand my nonfiction job-related writing to writing fiction. I love history and stories set in the wild west. In the beginning the whole process was a chore; I hated my characters, the dreary plot line, and the editing process seemed like torture. In the back of my mind lurked a ten-year-old boy who found a Comanche as a best friend and one night I dreamed about a wild-haired eleven year old girl who turned a frontier town on its ear. In my minds eye, I could see them clearly and their adventures played out in my head on a daily basis. They refused to leave me alone, and that’s when I realized I wanted to write for children.

I found my notes from that workshop just yesterday, and Jane’s words came back to me, “Freshness and originality come from what you can imagine.”

Rather than fight with myself and feel frustration every time I sit down at the keyboard, I work on the piece that puts a fire in my gut. Today, I’m writing blogs. Tomorrow, who knows?

I’ve finished four middle grade novels since that first romance seminar. Some I’ve entered into contests, some are buried in a closet, and one I self-published. They may never find a place to land in the publishing world and at this point it doesn’t matter because those characters are not waking me up nights anymore. I refuse to ignore the voices in my head.

Are you writing in the Right Genre?

Natalie Bright

One Picture

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Outtakes #18

 One Picture

There are times when the muse takes a vacation and I struggle to move from one scene to the next. I’ve even had the horrible experience of staring at the blank screen and nothing happens. No words come to mind. The characters fail to speak to me. The page remains blank. I can only shut down my computer and walk away.

So what do you do when faced with “writer’s block”? Here’s an exercise that works for me. Gather a few necessities—a tablet, your favorite pen, a kitchen timer, magazines, photo albums,  or coffee table books, a cup of coffee or tea. Now find a quiet spot, and relax. Forget about editing, you will write whatever comes to mind. Set the timer for no more than ninety minutes. Ready? You are about to put the expression “a picture is worth a thousand words” to the test.

Flip through a coffee table book or magazine for a picture that speaks to you. Study it for a few minutes and then draft as many story lines as possible from the scene before you. Imagine characters that would fit into the story ideas and write brief character sketches. Take the setting, your character sketches, and using one story line write a romance, a mystery, a paranormal piece, a thriller, and a horror story.  The possibilities are endless.

Review some of your ideas. Is the writing more vivid? Do the characters breathe? Compare the number of active verbs to the passive ones. Which is greater? I’ve learned my internal editor sometimes inhibits the creative process. When not concerned with perfection, the ideas pop. The words are sharper and the draft less cluttered.

Give this a try next time you are struggling. You’ll be surprised how quickly the creative ideas begin to flow and you are able to get back to your current work.

Cait Collins

The Wizard

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POST CARDS FROM THE MUSE

The Wizard

A recent series of young adult books has reminded me how fun it is to believe in magic. Can you remember the first time you watched the movie The Wizard of Oz? How about Cinderella or Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory? Remember sitting in front of the television and not even being able to blink your eyes as magical things happened to make scarecrow talk and pumpkins turn into carriages and little orange people mix chocolate by waterfall? And how did you feel when the words “The End” scrolled up on the screen?

Writing is that way. You know the story because you’ve listened to the characters tell it in their own words. Your job is to take the story they told you and find the magic words that will weave a spell around your reader and keep them glued to your words.

Stephen King uses the term “telepathy,” and that’s a very good description. But J. K. Rowling goes a little further and alludes to “a book that casts a spell that won’t let the reader put it down.”

The magic comes from words spun like a spell, winding around the reader’s eyes and pulling their imagination to the page. They can’t put the book down until the story ends, and then they turn back to the beginning and start over.

Look for magic all around you and the words will appear.

Congratulations. You have received a post card from the muse.

Nandy Ekle

WOODEN NICKEL

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Panhandle Plains Historical Christmas Open House, December 2, 2011 from 6-9 pm and December 3, 2011 from 2-6pm

WOODEN NICKEL

by Sharon Stevens

You wouldn’t think you were making history in receiving this wooden nickel presented by the Panhandle Plains Historical Museum for the annual Christmas Open House 2011.

In all actuality this creates as much as any written in the history book throughout the ages, and is given to commemorate the rebuilding of Pioneer Town at the museum. This represents over a hundred years of habitation of the panhandle, and the generations of those who came together to settle this area. So before you stick this in a drawer, the holiday box or “gasp” throw it in the trash, take just a moment to contemplate the significance of this token souvenir.

Christmas Open House commemorates the Christmas day in 1887 when L.G. Connor and his wife Queenie Victoria located and surveyed the town of Canyon, Texas. L.G. was twenty-seven years old and his young wife was twenty-one. They lived their first year in a dugout facing a severe winter on the open plains. Their home was the first meeting house, post office, church, school, business and courthouse. Later they hauled logs from Palo Duro Canyon to build their first house. L.G. donated land for anyone who wanted to build a home, church or business to establish a strong and dedicated community. They were charter members of the First Baptist Church, and worked tirelessly to bring WTAMU to the Panhandle. Their daughter, Mamie, was the first Anglo-American child born in Randall County and the first student at the college as well as in the first graduating class.

Your wooden nickel is being given to bring back and redeem for a peppermint stick at the grand opening of the newly restored Pioneer Town in the future. Everyone at the museum was disappointed it was not completed in time for the Open House. The town will be more interactive for all who visit. Visitors will be able to walk through displays and touch some of the artifacts, many of the items passed down through generations of families. The area will continue to house the history donated and treasured by the people of the panhandle.

This nickel is a commemorative souvenir and a tangible example of history itself.

On December 5, 1931 almost eighty years ago during the depression, the Citizens Bank in Tenio, Washington failed, leaving the merchants of the city without any way to make change. The nearest bank was 30 miles over the mountain on roads only meant for horses and mules, a journey that took four hours round trip. Most storekeepers couldn’t close their businesses for this amount of time, much less leave it in the hands of employees, and robbers would be on the lookout for easy money going and coming.

The merchants and Chamber of Commerce banded together and came up with the idea of using wooden money to be given as change and then redeemed. The newspaper printed rectangular wooden coins. In turn the Blaine Washington issued the first round wooden coins when their bank failed in 1933.

Also in 1933 with the Century of Progress in Chicago, the first wooden money pieces was given as souvenirs. They were distributed as advertising and souvenirs for civic celebrations. The only fault was that they had an expiration date stamped on them rendering them worthless after that time. Many also had a note that they had to be unbroken, and many of the rectangular ones were fragile. This is where the adage, “Don’t take any wooden nickels” came into play. This meant in the depression era that if you couldn’t turn them back in, it was money down the drain. And it might even mean whether your family would be able to afford to eat or not. Every nickel was precious.

But it wasn’t until the J.R. Rogers Company of Fosteria Ohio obtained a copyright for their design in 1938 that these nickels took on a lighter tone. Their idea had to be the greatest marketing scheme of the 20th century. They printed up wooden nickels, dimes and quarters before a celebration and then sold these to area merchants for face value. These in turn were given back in change. In actuality you paid to take home your own advertisement of the event.

The Wooden Nickel Museum in San Antonio displays their collections and gives the history of these nickels. This is also the home of the largest wooden nickel, recognized by Ripley’s Believe It Or Not.”

Lets bring the presentation of this commemorative coin back to the present. Even though you can’t believe that this little circle of wood you hold in your hand represents anything of value. There is a connection between it, the Connors, their first Christmas in Canyon, the Panhandle Plains Historical Museum, the Christmas Open House and you. Imagine the history that you can now carry with you to share from this day forward? After all, you and your family and friends represent the heritage. The value is not within the wooden nickel.

Grace Warwick wrote in her book “The Randall County Story” about a reporter interviewing Queenie Victoria Connor. Queenie was asked about her part in making history. She was offended and retorted… History? Why, we weren’t making history. Why, we were living-doing whatever had to be done in a new community, and have some fun along the way as we did it. No, we weren’t making history, we were living it!

SharonStevens

WIP? Do Tell!

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WIP? Do Tell!

By Natalie Bright

Do you talk about your WIP (work in progress)?

Some writers feel it takes away the momentum of their story. They don’t breathe a word about the characters and scenes mulling around in their head.  Ask me about my stories, and I’ll talk your ear off.

The first niggling of an idea works itself out in my brain, and as I ponder the possibilities a character, a place and usually their problems begin to evolve. Once I have the ending in my head, I like to verbalize the story idea. When I talk about my characters, it makes them even more real to me. Their personalities and quirks come to life. The whys and reasons and obstacles begin to make sense. And thank goodness, I have a critique group that listens.

Our meetings usually run long. We delve into much more than commas and sentence structure.  Since we’ve been meeting together for several years, we are familiar with each others projects. We dig deep and talk character motivation and plot structure, and it’s wonderful.

What about you; do you spill about your WIP?

Natalie Bright

Drop Me a Line

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Outtakes #17

Drop Me a Line

I think I may be a dinosaur. You see, I miss hand-written letters on nice stationary. I believe we have lost the art of writing personal correspondence. I remember my mother set aside time each week to write the folks back home. With Dad in the military, we were often great distances away from loved ones. Telephones were still party lines, and international calls were limited and expensive, so letters were the best method of communication. Mom’s letters were full of family news. She related our school successes, the details of our forty-inch snow storm and digging out the cars, and my number six sister’s first words. Reading one of her letters was like sitting on the sofa with her and just talking. Her Christmas card notes were full of news and holiday cheer. There was never a hit of self-pity because she was away from the extended family for years at a time. When my husband and I moved to El Paso, I’d watch the mail box for an envelope addressed in mother’s feminine handwriting. It brought me home and kept me close to those I loved.

In Mom’s later years, she was no longer able to maintain contact with her dear friends by writing letters. I started penning her holiday messages and taking them to her to sign. Her address box turned into a book of memories and family history. As I wrote the letters, I relived the wonderful experiences and people from our time in Newfoundland, Louisiana, and Maine. I recalled family reunions, weddings, and births.  Now I realize the importance of my mother’s lessons on writing letters.

Advances in telecommunications and the availability of personal computers changed the face of personal correspondence. Phone calls replaced letters. My family and I communicate by email or texting. The lovely cards and newsy letters are now reduced to quick phrases and LOL in an email. Oh, how I miss seeing the flow of ink across paper. Now don’t get me wrong. I enjoy family newsletters generated on the computer. I’ve even gotten better at navigating Facebook to check messages and view photos. A chatty phone call works too. Just keep in touch.

This time of the year offers each of us the opportunity to reconnect with friends and loved ones. As writers, we have one more platform for stretching our creative juices and resurrecting a dying art. Why not create a newsletter template and correspond with those who are important to you? Once you get the basics down you can customize the letter by including tidbits that have special meaning to each person on your list. Yes, it takes a bit of time, but trust me on this. Your loved ones will be thrilled.  As for me, I plan to build a fire in the fireplace, get out my best stationary and favorite pen, and write my letters mom style.

Cait Collins

PUDDLES

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PUDDLES

by Sharon Stevens

Everyone has something to learn,

and everyone has something to teach.

Richard Baraniuk

At the post office one morning after a minuscule drizzle that sprinkled moisture on earth parched by drought, I watched as a little girl leapt across the walk and up the steps from one shimmering mirage to the next. There was not even enough water to make a splash. Nevertheless with each jump to the next indention she joyfully recited, “Puddle…puddle…puddle.” There was a woman following behind her guiding her up the steps who could have been her mother, aunt, friend, or grandmother. Our eyes connected over the child’s head as we were caught up in the magic of this enchanted moment.

I stayed and watched until the little girl twirled through the door of the building, then got in my car and drove away. I pondered for the rest of the day who it was that taught this little one to “read” puddles. Who gave her the gift to celebrate raindrops and rainbows? Who released the creativity and imagination she held within her heart? Who showed her there were sparkles in the sidewalk no matter how measured the moisture? Who whispered to her the song she sang that led her to dance with each step?

Today is Thanksgiving. A time we hold hands together to share the abundance that surrounds us and the life we treasure with our family and friends.

This day I want to recognize what I am truly most thankful for, and without question this is the life of a teacher.

Please acknowledge not only just the teacher in the classroom, but all educators in the purest sense of the word. They give us accolades or praise, and from somewhere deep within they recognize we are worthy of sharing everything good and kind in our community. Teachers surround us with courage and strength, joy and inspiration, and believe in us each and every day. I picture all of them with a halo shining above their heads, with their angel wings wrapping themselves around our fragile souls, protecting us against the evils in the world.

The following are just a few examples of the educators that touch our lives. It may simply be a Sunday school teacher or those that teach us to say grace at the family table. Take a moment to celebrate both those who do, and those who do not have a diploma hanging on the wall that decrees they are truly teachers.

Don’t discount the smile given by the greeter at the door of a business, a favorite eatery, at church or at school. Think about what this teaches a child, a parent, a friend and where they learned the basics. Who teaches the kids to bag groceries or wait tables, to make change, or meet the public? Who is it that touched our spirit to draw, paint, sculpt, or express in any medium we choose?

What about the doctors and nurses in the medical field that truly care for all humanities and species? Someone, somewhere shared their knowledge of the healing gifts that they now have passed on to the generations that follow, as well as for the future of our planet.

Where would we be without those that teach us to count the leaves on a tree, the rocks in our path or the legs on a bug? And then there are the scientists who show us how flowers grow, how frogs croak, how fish swim and snakes crawl. How about the engineers that teach us and our children to build with a hammer and nails, movie sets as well as skyscrapers, to construct with snow, with glue, with tape, with needle and thread, and with “More Than Bricks And Mortar.”” History, literature, theater, communication, dance, symphony, band, choir, journalism are all filled with those who give outside the usual school day.

Even within the schools there are countless people who do more than just their jobs. They are the janitors, cafeteria workers, secretaries, school bus drivers…those who impact the very basis of our lives. And don’t forget the dedicated coaches on the playing field, and also those who work with Kid’s Inc., Pee Wee, and Little League. They teach sportsmanship, fair play, discipline and tolerance.

What about the Girl Scouts, Boy Scouts, 4-H, FFA, Key Clubs, Student Council, and all the other civic clubs that surround us? What about those who lead the meetings and teach the kids the life lessons they can carry with them wherever they go in life?

One of the most important teachers that are left out of the educational loop are those who teach us to volunteer. Not a lost art by any means, and every age and skill level can contribute in giving outside themselves when they are taught to volunteer. But then again how can you teach this gift?

We can’t forget about those who teach us how to do our chores. We learned to pick up after ourselves, to feed the family pet, to do the dishes, simple tasks that teach us the most fundamental lessons. Even the most successful and dedicated CEO’s of our world learned work ethic from those who were guided within the family.

And I want to give special mention to those that are the librarians and help all of us with the love of not only the written word, but everything else the library has to offer, whether it is in the public library or within the school.

Last but not least, I want to recognize the teachers who taught us to read and, with the same token, taught us how to write. To me this is the greatest gift of all. Besides my family, my friends, my critique group, Wordsmith Six, Jodi Thomas and DeWanna Pace, my original creative writing teachers, they have all given me the gift that I am most thankful for in my life!

My mind keeps going back to the sight of the little girl jumping from puddle to puddle in front of the post office. She had no idea that she was teaching me a life lesson in the simplest form. With her I witnessed a true miracle—that of a teacher! This child taught me everything I needed to know.

Happy Thanksgiving and may you celebrate the teachers in your life.