Tag Archives: Nandy Ekle

The Wisdom of the Masters

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POST CARDS FROM THE MUSE

The Wisdom of the Masters

By Nandy Ekle

Quotationspage.com

  1. Space is big. You just won’t believe how vastly, hugely, mind-bogglingly big it is. I mean, you may think it’s a long way down the road to the chemist’s, but that’s just peanuts to space –Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
  1. You sort of start thinking anything’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve. –J.Rowling, Harry Potter and the Oder of the Phoenix
  1. That we see or seem is but a dream with a dream. –Edgar Allan Poe, Dream Within a Dream
  1. I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, It’s a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, And that enables you to laugh at life’s realities. –Dr. Seuss
  1. There must be more to life than having everything. –Maurice Sendak
  1. Careful. We don’t want to learn from this. –Bill Watterson, Calvin and Hobbes
  1. Get your facts first, and then you can distort them as much as you please. –Mark Twain
  1. The wit makes fun of other person; the satirist makes fun of the world; the humorist makes fun of himself, but in so doing, he identifies himself with people—that is, people everywhere, not for the purpose of taking them apart, but simply revealing their true nature. –James Thurber
  1. The best time to plan a book is while you’re doing the dishes. –Agatha Christie
  1. A man who could build a church, as one may say, by squinting at a sheet of paper. –Charles Dickens

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

Dear Apostrophe

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POST CARDS FROM THE MUSE

Dear Apostrophe

By Nandy Ekle

Time for another lesson in the world of language – sort of.

We know and understand the rules of the apostrophe. (1) denotes ownership (you’re), (2) indicates missing letters (don’t), (3) stresses dialect (goin’), or (4) indicates emphasis within a word (resume’).

This week I learned about a different kind of apostrophe (shout out to a high school English teacher friend of mine J ).

A literary apostrophe is when the speaker, or narrator, detaches from reality and addresses an imaginary character. This tool has been used as a poetic device to illustrate the nature of emotions. It also helps the reader develop a fresh, creative perspective.

One of the rules is that the object is usually not present with the speaker/narrator. A woman goes to work early in the morning. She sits at her desk and yawns. “Dear bed, I’m sorry we had to break up this morning. I’ll see you again this evening.”

Another example would be something like, “Oh, Friday, we look forward to you all week long, but you really are the hardest day of the week.”

You could even do something like this: “Okay, Muse. Zap me with words.”

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

 

 

 

Independence Day

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POST CARDS FROM THE MUSE

Independence Day

By Nandy Ekle

The anniversary of the day this country declared its independence from England. The birthday of the United States of America, if you will. And history certainly shows how that turned out.

So I will take this opportunity to declare my independence from the writer’s block that has been crushing me for a while. My fans are calling for me and my stories are weeping for attention.

*raises right hand* I declare this day that I have returned to my passion. Taryn will learn her lesson. Gary and Gooley will come to an understanding. Mara will discover her past. And Suzie Carver will pay the price to get exactly what she wants.

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

Rejected

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POST CARDS FROM THE MUSE

Rejected

By Nandy Ekle

Crushed! How could they! I’ve never been so insulted in my life! I just don’t think I can go on.

The earth shattering thing that just happened was I received a rejection for my story. No explanation, just a form letter advising me my story does not fit their needs. They really had some nerve.

Okay, that may have been a little melodramatic. The truth was I probably didn’t send the right story to the right place. I should have done a little deeper research. And in this day and age, when research is just a tippity tap away on the internet, there really is no excuse for not researching the intended publisher.

But it does sting when we get the rejection letters. We tend to take it personally. We worked on this story, coaxing it to life, and working tirelessly on each and every word. We love the concept and believe the tale is as beautiful as our children. And the we’re told it’s not worthy for that particular publication.

But sometimes I think I just need an attitude adjustment. This is when I turn to the masters. It’s hard to believe that someone like Stephen King every had to endure the tragedy of rejection. In his book, On Writing, he reveals that as a teenager, he pounded a nail into the wall of his bedroom. Every rejection he received, he would impale the slip on the nail. He states that by the time he was fourteen he had so many rejections they would not all fit on the nail. And he was not even old enough to drive a car.

The other side of this confession is that by the time he was fourteen, he had submitted enough stories to receive more rejection slips than could fit on the nail.

The moral of the story is, rejections can be hard on your feelings, but they are also a sign that you’re writing and submitting your babies, which is what we are supposed to be doing.

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

 

The Click

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POST CARDS FROM THE MUSE

The Click

By Nandy Ekle

 

In my day job, I read a lot of contracts, and I read some court documents. I analyze these papers and put together letters to answer any question our customers feel like asking. Even though I am writing, it’s a very different kind of writing from that of story telling. And I would never use any facts from any contract or customer in my story, and I work very hard to keep the right side of my brain completely separate from the left side.

While these two types of writing are entire worlds apart, occasionally they do bump into one another. It just goes to show how pieces of stories are just laying around like grains of sand on the beach.

I’ve had this story in the back of my head for a while. I have my characters, setting, and the main points of the plot. I think I even started it a while back, but allowed it to rest long enough that I forgot to finish it.

So I was reading a court document concerning a lawsuit between two entities and found something very interesting that caused a clicking noise in my head. In fact, it was so interesting I immediately saw some things that could happen, and they were a little bit scary. The next thing that happened was the four characters from partially written story began to scream and jump up and down.

Immediately I saw how this new piece of information could be used to create the last few pieces I needed to finally put this story together.

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

 

 

 

 

 

Obsession

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POST CARDS FROM THE MUSE

Obsession

By Nandy Ekle

 

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I have been accused of having a touch of OCD. And maybe I do. Maybe do listen to the same song over and over, watch the same movie over and over, do the same activity over and over. Maybe I do have a specific way of doing every task, from the order of laundry loads to which ice cube comes out of the tray first.

I think, as a writer, the ability to obsess is important. Even if you have a short attention span, use the writing mood as intensely as possible. When you wake up in the morning, think about what perils your character will find during the day. As you shower, decide how your character will deal with these new obstacles. While you’re performing your day job, let your characters whisper to the right side of your brain while the left side performs the work. During your meals, allow the activity of your story to build. And when you lay down in your bed at night, your characters will put you to sleep so that you can start over the next day.

I really don’t know any other way to get the story out. When the mood is gone, it takes the words with it and you’ll be wandering around with characters frozen in mid sentence waiting for you to return. And one thing I’ve learned is the more I obsess about something, the deeper the obsession becomes.

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

Taking Control

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Taking Control

By Nandy Ekle

 

I have the best day job in the world. I work for a major finance corporation in the correspondence department. So I read letters, analyze the letter, research the contract and write a letter in response. So I spend all day long in the bottomless pit of words. And when we’re behind, as we have been quite a bit for the last year or so, we work overtime, still swimming in that ocean.

I love this job because it utilized every part of me I always enjoyed using—analyzing, investigating, reading, and writing. However, one of the drawbacks is by the time I get home from work, the words have just given up. As a result, I have not written much during the past year. I had forgotten how good it felt to write.

This week I made myself a promise. Beginning this week, I will take my entire lunch hour for myself. I decided to spend my lunch HOUR writing.

I also bought some new music on my player. Now, by the time lunch comes around, I’m very excited to get the writing time.

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

In the Cavern

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In the Cavern

By Nandy Ekle

 

My youngest son was about three or four years old when we went on a vacation. We decided we would go through a cave in another state.

The tour through this cave was a fairly new tour, and there were places where the walkway was not very well developed. My daughter and son were old enough to be thrilled with the challenge and adventure of the whole thing, but my younger son was a little timid by more scary spots. He clung to my leg like he was attached to me.

We saw beautiful stalactites and stalagmites, which the tour guide explained were formed by water dripping constantly, drip, drip, dripping, one drop at a time. And each time a drop of water travels the length of the protuberance, it leaves a deposit of mineral. After a length of time, the minerals clot up and a finger-like projection is born. If you’ve ever seen a cavern with the different stalactite and stalagmite formations, you know about their breath-taking beauty.

I’ve read a few books, that reminded me of this past adventure, and I think those are the books I love the most. I approach an opening in someone else’s imagination. The author, who is the tour guide, has set up a pathway through his world to make the trip safe enough so no harm comes to you, but there are still emotional dangers. Yet the idea of learning something is worth more than the danger could ever be.

The guide takes you deep into the cavern, just using a flashlight to start with. But you get to the point where he turns on a stronger light and you gasp with the beauty you are seeing. The words have continued to drip steadily until you have the most beautiful formations you have ever seen. And they are made of more layers than you could ever imagine. In fact, the deeper you look, the more layers you find.

This type of story is a masterpiece and your readers will read it over and over.

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

Coffee Break

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Coffee Break

By Nandy Ekle

 

I’m a coffee drinker. I used to be avid about it, drinking coffee all day long. But a few years ago I cut back considerably. Now I have one medium sized cup in the morning and that’s all. Still, that one cup is very important.

We don’t use the new-fangled single cup coffee makers because my husband has never cut back on his coffee consumption and the little singles are just not practical in our house. So when we make coffee, we make it by the 12-cup pot full. This means putting a filter in the basket, measuring out the grounds, pouring water in the tank, pushing the button, and watching the brown goodness drip, a couple drops at a time, sometimes a small brown stream down into the carafe until it’s full and ready to be poured out.

So, what does making a pot of coffee have to do with writing? Well, I’m a writer. Sometimes I’m a more avid writer than others, cranking out stories all day long. But sometimes just one story a day is enough. Still that one story is very important.

I have to assemble my ingredients: the computer on my lap (make sure the mouse is on), scratch paper and pen next to me (because I always have scratch paper and pen next to me), the internet pulled up and handy (research and polling friends), and my cup of coffee. Then I push the buttons and let the page fill up. Sometimes it only drips one word at a time. But then, sometimes it flows as a stream onto the page in front of me. And when it’s done, I feel the same sense of satisfaction I get from drinking my hot coffee first thing in the morning.

And now, I believe I will have a cup.

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

 

 

 

An Empty Hole

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An Empty Hole

By Nandy Ekle

 

There’s a hole in my life. It’s bigger and emptier than the Grand Canyon ad it’s frozen all the way to my soul.

A very important presence left, and not only is my soul in havoc, but it also left everything around me in shambles. I look around the room and wonder what happened between us.

There’s a hole in the roof of this room and the rain continues to fall. The blowing wind keeps my world stirred up with just enough wreckage to keep things from settling back in order. And the wind is icy cold. I reach for a piece of paper as it passes me and my hand burns in this arctic cyclone

My soul and this dark empty room are not the only things feeling the cold rain. A parade of people are paralyzed in mid action. In one corner I see two young girls, the best of friends, on their way to the mountains for a weekend of adventure and healing. I see a lonely young woman whose entire life exists on the computer. I see an insecure girl waiting for her lover to come to her as he does every Friday—an artist trying to work through a broken heart and looking for just one friend—a confused woman waking up in an unknown place with no memory of how she got there—a frustrated and bored mother looking for adventure in the monotony of her life—the conflicted bridesmaid who’s lover is the groom—and probably the saddest face I see is the teenage girl who desperately wants independence from her twisted family.

But they are all as frozen as the air around me.

The source of all this icy chaos is my missing muse. She comes now and then, dropping a small seed in my head without providing the water or sunlight needed to make it germinate and grow. Sometimes the seeds pop up and then die, sometimes they never even take a breath.

I picture these characters she had me create, how they are stuck in turmoil and pain, and I want to help them. I want to fulfill their dreams and give them everything they want. But my hands are as worthless as the rain that continues to fall.

Oh, I’ve tried everything to get her back. I’ve begged and pleaded, cried and coaxed. I’ve spent money for lectures, books, pictures, and music hoping she hides there. I’ve re-read the words leading up to her departure thinking she may be in a corner just waiting for me to find her and pick the stories back up. I’ve talked with others whose muses are steady and helpful. I’ve even pretended she was still whispering to me, but the words are as empty as my heart feels.

So, what to do. The masters say to keep putting the words on the paper and she will eventually come back. They say exercise keeps the muscles strong. And they say to take matters into my own hand and give up the muse.

All I know for sure is the hole in this roof needs to be patched and the furnace needs to be turned on.

Desperately waiting for a post card from my muse.