The long-term reader may recall that when we bought my house, the back yard was full of river rocks because my parents, who owned it first, were getting up in years and didn't want to be troubled with yard work.

So for the past five years we have been slowly moving rocks from one side of the yard to the other, hauling out truck loads once or twice a summer, laying grass seed by the handful in the dirt where the rocks have been peeled back.

I have touched every. single. rock., personally. Sometimes more than once.

Anyway, since we've decided to hold the Kinglet's 7th birthday at the house (in three weeks!!!), we're in the final push. We had a rock-moving party on Saturday that left us with just 1/4 of the yard still covered, with rocks and soil packed only 3-4 inches thick. I spent Sunday attacking the rest, filling buckets or tossing rocks from just after breakfast until I was too tired to move in the afternoon. I earned myself some bright red shoulders and a neon pink solar tramp-stamp above my ass of which I might take a picture if I'm feeling saucy later. In any event, Totally Worth It.



We're enjoying a bit of actual spring these days. Normally spring in Delaware goes from chilly April showers to blazing hot without much warning in between. Right now it's quite cold in the mornings and warms up gradually, so you can end the day without a sweater and a feeling that all is right with the world.

I bought a new sundress. The Kinglet cleaned out his wading pool all by himself and had a blast splashing and sliding in the suds. ("This is way funner than REGULAR cleaning, Mom!") I'm eyeing my new patches of rockless dirt, forming vegetable gardens and meandering foot trails in my mind.

Good times.



In other news, I keep trying to have a conversation with my mother, and it's not happening. Little things come up that I file away to tell her - I picked up a copy of my birth certificate, which I'll need to renew my license this year. The Kinglet said something funny the other day. I found a new little weird thing among the rocks from when they lived here - a Fischer Price guy. A french coin.

She's in dialysis three days a week, though, and it leaves her exhausted. She sleeps a lot, at weird hours. And lately she's been going through a lot of medical tests to qualify for the transplant list, so even on the off-days she's unavailable or weary.

My father is easier to reach, but we don't see much of him. He comes out once in a while, but he doesn't stay long. His stamina is low.

It's like practice for when they're gone. It feels odd, to think of it like that, but frankly, that's what this is.

I've been wishing I could visit my grandmother, now that she's settled in California. Can't afford it, though.


I'll have to settle for writing her a letter.



The Kinglet has had some setbacks in school. Hard to say if it's a transition-thing, coming down off of Spring Break, or if he's cycling, or merely reacting differently to his meds because he's growing. Or whatever. Lots of struggles, lots of worries, but lots to be proud of, too.



Feeling ill today, sun fatigue and so on. Spent the morning teasing out ideas for COVENANT - now all I want to do is take a bath and lie in the sun somewhere. The sun was out for a little while, but it changed it's mind and now it's cold again.

Cloudy skies, rainy day mood.

Writerly friends: if you don’t already follow Jessica Bell, you should. An Australian-native fiction author and poet, Jessica Bell also makes a living as an editor and writer for global ELT publishers (English Language Teaching), such as Pearson Education, HarperCollins, Macmillan Education, Education First and Cengage Learning. Her poetry collection, FABRIC, was a semi-finalist in the GOODREADS CHOICE AWARDS 2012 for BEST POETRY. Sellers like Amazon.com offer a selection of her fiction, poetry and non-fiction, including her pocket guide WRITING IN A NUTSHELL series, which offers user-friendly “how to” demonstrations to help writers hone their craft.

Jessica has a warm and witty online presence on social media sites like Facebook and Goodreads. She’s also part of the team that brings us Vine Leaves Literary Journal – a high-quality (and visually stunning – seriously, have a gander) online journal. Taken from the original meaning of the word, “vignette” (“something that may be written on a vine leaf”), Vine Leaves celebrates the kind of short, emotive writing that is too often overlooked in a literary culture fixated on the plot, the plot, the plot. By recognizing that there is also artistry to be found in a moment, a feeling, an array of words - and creating a venue for it - Jessica Bell became a hero of mine. So when she announced that she was launching a virtual tour for her upcoming projects, I happily volunteered.



Adverbs & Clichés in a Nutshell: Demonstrated Subversions of Adverbs & Clichés into Gourmet Imagery is the second installment in Bell’s WRITING IN A NUTSHELL series. In this NUTSHELL, Bell tackles those insidious, tricky little linguistic buggers that tend to slip into our writing because they’re familiar, easy, and ready-at-hand. We all do it: unconsciously, habitually, we rely on adverbs to tell (not show!) how something is done. Like a rat on a wheel, we use clichés to get our point across – and thus we keep our writing mediocre, rather than great.

But how, HOW, do we avoid the pitfalls of adverbs and clichés? By subverting them, Jessica says. Identify them, drop them from your repertoire, and replace them with something original. Give details in your prose to show that your character is mad, rather than having her say it angrily. Plumb the treasure trove of your imagination for metaphors to convey his love – don’t rely on his racing heartbeat or the truth welling up from the windows of his soul.

With Adverbs & Clichés in a Nutshell, Bell gives us thirty-four specific examples how to turn adverbs and clichés into vivid and unique imagery. This in itself is unique, so far as I’m aware – tons of writing books and blogs tell you what not to do, but with this guide you can actually see how it can be done – over and over again. Plus, it comes with writing prompts to practice writing subversions of your own.

Now, I don’t believe adverbs and clichés are always, universally evil. I raise a literary eyebrow when the media buzz tells us what is in, what is out, what defines good writing, and (even more fun) what makes writing bad. (Ten things you should NEVER do! Twelve things every agent HATES! Eleven ways to ensure you’ll never see your work in print EVER!) The pundits say it, it gets circulated and internalized and taken for gospel when, really, what's good has a lot to do with context. SOMETIMES, clichés work. (They are clichés for a reason, after all). SOMETIMES, adverbs work (saying it quickly can be better than taking up a paragraph with original purple prose to demonstrate how it’s said).

AND, I shall be quick to point out, Jessica Bell says this too, right up front. She gives a very good argument for the whys and why nots of adverb and cliché use in the introduction – the best argument I’ve seen. The danger in my mind is that writers, especially new writers, may accept that these writing rules are (cliché alert) written in stone, and may learn not trust their own instincts, their own voice. But I use the word “danger” loosely – it’s not like writers are going to be blowing things up with adverbs. And there’s nothing wrong with learning the rules well – if nothing else, it may teach you how and when to break them.

The biggest critique I have of Adverbs & Clichés in a Nutshell is that I wish the sample adverbs and clichés (of which there are over a hundred, I believe) were treated individually, rather than clumped together in thirty-four sample passages. Some of the passages are short, but many are quite dense, encompassing twenty or more “problem phrases” in one scenario. This clumping can make it hard to remember which phrases we’re subverting – I had to keep scrolling back and forth to figure out what Bell had changed from the “adverb” and “cliché” examples to the new, original writing. I even thought, in a (very) few cases, that the original “bad” writing was better, if only because the “better” samples tried to encompass so much.

For my purposes, I would have preferred one, maybe two adverbs and/or clichés per example. It would have been cleaner, focusing the reader’s attention on each problem phrase and an example of how to rewrite it, rather than making a dozen or more phrases depend on one another within a scene. It would have made the book longer, with more pages, but easier to use.

Still, Bell suggests that the book is meant to be read and then reread, several times over, and I can see how that would help the reader begin to pick out the nuances. And, indeed, that is how a writing book is meant to be used – often, and repeatedly. It is a reference, after all.

And for that, Adverbs & Clichés in a Nutshell is a great resource, and a great buy. At a mere $1.99, I don’t see why any writer wouldn’t want to snatch it up. So go do that.

Here’s how:

Click one of the following links to purchase:
Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon Ca | Kobo



For more information about Jessica please visit:
Website| Blog| Twitter | Facebook


crossposted from www.shannonconnorwinward.com

lady: ham and cheese and turkey pastrami and peanuts and crackers did not ease the ache in my soul. maybe these cookies will help.

God-King: Did my email about the duck not help?

lady: while cute, no, the duck did not ease my soul.

lady: the cookies came closet

Godking: The cookies came out of the closet?

Godking: Well, good for them.

I've finally settled my ass down to tackle draft #2 of COVENANT. I accept that major restructuring and rewriting is called for. I have a working vision for the changes I think need to be made. I've gotten over the whole WAH I SUCK I'LL NEVER WRITE AN INTERESTING STORY pathos, and I'm ready to work.

I spent a few days playing with an early scene, adding missing detail, trying to finesse the language, and so on. It was pleasant, but I had to stop myself, because I realize that this is third draft stuff.

What I *really* need to be working on right now is the framework - gutting existing chapters, moving people and scenes to their new locations, laying new foundations for the revised story. It makes no sense to try to make things pretty if they might get knocked down. It makes no sense to diddle with chapter orders when huge new sections remain to be written.

Structural uncertainties make me nervous. They're dangerous. If I let myself get caught up in crafty stuff, it'll slow me down, and those structural uncertainties will continue to loom. So. Eye on the prize - fix the structure first, THEN make it pretty.

THE TROUBLE WITH THIS, though, is that I'm asking myself to do grunt work on ugly material. And it is ugly. This is a first draft I'm talking about - it's all vomit, basic ideas spewed up on the page. Now I'm spreading the vomit out and adding filler - literally: "She does something. Haughtily. She says something here. Transition."

Vomit and filler is not inspiring. Necessary, maybe, but - ew. You know?


Ew.

This is mostly for me, but worth looking at if you've got a minute.

I've had the link to this article in my email for almost a year now, since Tom GodKing stumbled across it, and I keep forgetting to share it. It's a good post, but really it's just the comparison of children to stoned adults that gives me the giggles.

"If you’re having trouble figuring out how to deal with a child in a game, try thinking of him as a stoned adult. It’s not polite to draw attention to his being stoned, so just explain patiently and expect some weird lapses of judgment and the occasional flash of surprising insight."


http://articles.earthlingshandbook.org/2009/04/09/when-kids-show-up-at-your-demo/

Interesting.

The Kinglet is having a downswing (for lack of a better word for it. It's what I call my low periods - his are yet to be dubbed.)

Anyway, the Kinglet is having trouble settling down to do his homework. He knows he has to do it, but he doesn't want to. On a good week, he'd do it anyway. On a down week, his whole body goes into revolt. He squirms, he whines, he rages. He complains about his brain.

So I ask him - "isn't there some part of your brain that knows you just have to do your homework? And the sooner you do it, the sooner you'll be done?"

He shakes his head, eyes wide.

"Well, what IS going on in there?"

He lights up, then, and tells me happily, "there's a fire in my brain store."

Brain store?

Yes.

"There's a store in my brain," he says. "It's full of people, and there's a fire and the doors are jammed, so they can't get to the stuff that I know." And that's why he can't do his homework.


Well that's... cool, I say.
I mean, not cool about the brain fire, but... I can totally see it!


I guess good metaphors run in the family. :)

He still has to finish his homework, though.

Last year I gave an enthusiastic - yet conditional - review of Smart Rhino’s first major anthology,
ZIPPERED FLESH. I liked it, especially its diversity of styles, but I found many of the stories heavy on the gore and light on content. I also thought the obvious plotline of a “body enhancements gone wrong” theme – mad scientist/amoral villain tricks foolish protagonist into an ugly and painful situation – got recycled a bit too often.

So I wasn’t sure how I was going to take to UNCOMMON ASSASSINS, Smart Rhino’s second production.



I knew that Weldon is as passionate about suspense as he is about horror, and that he has an eye for talent and good story-telling. I’d been privileged to read and critique his contribution to the anthology, “Welcome to the Food Chain”. But would UNCOMMON ASSASSINS give me bang for my buck (figuratively speaking - counting publisher/editors among your friends has its perks).

The first story – “Nightshade”, a military action suspense-thingy by Stephen England, didn’t give me much hope. It was fine, but unsurprising in an anthology about assassins, and not at all something I would have read on its own. I pushed through it to the next story, preparing myself for more of the same.

NOPE. What follows in UNCOMMON ASSASSINS is as eclectic a mix of genres as I praised in ZIPPERED FLESH – with a delightful variety in storytelling to sweeten the deal. Sure, there’s some of what you’d expect – normal people driven to avenge a loved one, hired thugs who find that they’re now the one in the cross-hairs. But overall, the authors of UC were creative. Our assassins run the gamut, from a depressed, middle-aged woman to a Viking story-teller, a time-travelling hit-man to a blind sushi chef. Some are genius, some are fools. Sometimes you root for the killer, sometimes the mark.

I won’t say that every story won me over. “Killer” has a creative format but kind of plummets off the edge into - what did I just read? “Madame” was rather flamboyant. The titular character of “Bloodshed Fred” was so shallow and abrasive I couldn’t wait for the story to be over.

But the gems of UC still resonate, even though it’s been many weeks since I put the book away. “For the Love of Boys” by Rob M. Miller, “Slasher” by F. Paul Wilson, “Fire & Ice” by Joseph Badal and “Marcy Killing” by Laura Disilverio are all stories in which the psychology of the characters matters. They’re written with sensitivity and depth, and I truly enjoyed them. “The Man Who Shot Hitler” by Elliot Capon is a very strong and interesting “what-if” historical piece. “Katakiuchi”, I admit, took me by surprise (plus I don’t usually like first-person narratives that address the reader, but this one was cute, so kudos on that).

“Scrub” by Michael Bailey and “The Wellmaster’s Daughter” by James S. Dorr were my favorites, though in both cases I had to ask the editor if what I thought had happened in the stories was what the writers intended. A little ambiguity there, but damned good writing.

Overall, an impressive sophomore collection, definitely worth checking out. For fiction lovers and writers alike, Smart Rhino is one to watch.

This book kept popping up in my online peripheral vision, based on my reading habits at Goodreads, Amazon, and paperbackswap. I was intrigued by the blurb, so I ordered a copy and cleared out my reading queue, fully expecting to love the book and get tied up in reading the rest of the series in one hungry stretch, as fantasy readers are wont to do.



While I won’t say that my investment in Book 1 of Phedre’s Triology was wasted, I doubt that I’ll be buying the others – unless I find myself hard up for reading material, and with a lot of idle time on my hands.

First off, the premise was not what I was expecting. This is not always a bad thing, but it set me up for a personal disappointment. I have always been fascinated by the idea of the sacred prostitute; my own, as-of-yet-unwritten opus involves an order of priestesses who deliver prophecy via sexual rites and mysticism. Based on its blurb (I never read reviews first), I thought KUSHIEL’S DART was close enough to the book I want to write that I expected to be enchanted, inspired, seduced…

Well, not so much. As it turns out, yes, the main character is born with special mystical gifts and, yes, she enters into an order of highly-trained courtesan in the service of a goddess (or, rather, angel) in a religion that holds sexuality sacred. What I did not realize is that most of the sexuality in KUSHIEL’S DART is of the S&M variety. Fine for some, but not really my cup of tea. And no matter how poetically written or contextually justified, I could not help thinking, well, if I wanted to read about dominant/submissive erotica, I would have read 50 SHADES OF GREY… or Anne Rampling… or whatever. I just wish, in this case, I’d read the reviews, and had a clearer idea of what I was getting into.

That said, well, fine. “Love as thou will” is the first tenant of Terre d'Ange, and I have no problem with that. Even if I was not swept up in the eroticism, I was not offended by it, either. There was enough of a story otherwise to keep me reading, and Ms. Carey provides passages of literary beauty that are worth mentioning. Among the many (many… many) characters, some were interesting to the point that I wanted to find out what happens to them.

Unfortunately, I don’t count the protagonist, Phedre, among the notable cast. I’ve read comments elsewhere that go into how she is rather a one-note character, rather too-perfect and too conveniently placed with her courtesan’s wiles to always save the day, so I won’t belabor that point. I just didn’t find her compelling. Her narrative is too lofty, her “foreshadowing” remarks too clumsy, and just, well. Meh.

I also thought that the first third of the book, which covers Phedre’s life from early-childhood through her training in the Night Court - was far too drawn-out. I almost put it down, which says a lot, because I have a high tolerance for verbosity in literature. There is a great deal of wordage spent setting up political intrigue among numerous counts and princes and bla-de-blah. It should be noted that this is a particular weakness of mine – I have a hard time keeping track of large casts of characters unless they distinguish themselves from each other early on, and consistently. Other readers might not have this problem – but for me, the players failed to separate themselves from the soup of background. When the many situations and characters turned out to be relevant hundreds of pages later, I found myself thinking, wait, who is this again, and why do I care?

The pace of the book picked up once Phedre and her companion are whisked out of Terre d'Ange. What follows is a story of epic proportions, encompassing several cultures and battles and mythical dangers, oh-my. I enjoyed it, to a point – but I also felt it was all rather grandiose for one story, and read more like a farcical adventure – only it took itself too seriously to be farcical.

The pace slows again – considerably – with resolution of the book, which goes on for pages and pages about courtly ritual and what people were wearing and how this one and that one’s storyline gets wrapped up, until we (finally) get to the crossroads, where Phedre must choose between an idyllic life with the man she loves (by default, kind of), or if she will continue on the path of intrigue. Obviously, she chooses the latter, hence the future installments.

While I feel like this book is distinct, with its unique, not-quite-historic-earth setting and a what-if mythos that branches off from Christianity as we think we know it, I’m not hooked enough to keep reading. Overall, it took too much time and energy to finish off the first in the series. I’m glad I did – I guess? But it’s on to other adventures for me…

The editors at The Alchemy Press have been posing Q&A to the writers of the Book of Ancient Wonders



Read the original interview at the publisher's blog ALCHEMY PRESS


Q&A: Shannon Connor Winward

Under the spotlight today: SHANNON CONNOR WINWARD

Tell us a little about yourself, and what you like to write?

I’m an American author and poet. Most of what I create is speculative – some sci-fi, fantasy, and what’s been called “mythpunk” – though I write a little bit of everything. On my blog I talk about real life: the writing process, the emotional ups and downs. I chronicle my experiences raising a child with special needs, because I feel there’s a lack of information and empathy for families who have to go through this, and it’s my way of contributing to a larger conversation. I like to write about what touches me, what fascinates me. A lot of my stories deal with death and madness, but not in a macabre sense. I like to explore liminalities.

What inspired you to write Passage?

I minored in anthropology as an undergrad, with a special interest in the Celts of Britain and Ireland. I was writing a thesis on Celtic death rituals, which is largely speculative due to a scarcity of archaeological evidence. I came across a discussion of how the Celts may have used the monoliths as a means of connecting themselves psychologically to the landscape, since they had emigrated there, and places like Newgrange and Stonehenge predated their culture considerably. I became so distracted with the idea that I wrote “Passage” instead of what I was meant to be working on. I scribbled it in the middle of my research notes.

If the TARDIS could drop you off to any one site in its heyday, where would you go?

I’d love to visit Great Britain in the Iron Age – though, to be honest, if the Doctor came to get me, I wouldn’t be picky.

What appeals to you most about ancient sites/landscapes?

I feel a closer kinship to ancient religions than to modern ones, at least in a spiritual sense. Our ancestors were more intimately tied to nature and her cycles, and that is reflected in their sacred sites.

What do you have coming out next?

I have poems due out in various magazines, all TBA, and I’ve been invited to participate in some local fiction anthologies. Right now I’m working on a sci-fi story inspired by Egyptian mythology and Edgar Rice Burroughs, and a modern-day fairy tale about a wicked librarian. I’m also working on my second novel, an urban fantasy, and my first poetry collection. I publish updates and links to my work on my blog.

[Shannon Connor Winward's writing has appeared in many venues including: Pedestal Magazine, Flash Fiction Online, Strange Horizons, Illumen, This Modern Writer [Pank Magazine], Hip Mama Zine and the anthologies Twisted Fairy Tales: Volume Two, Jack-o'-Spec: Tales of Halloween and Fantasy and Spectacular: Fantasy Favorites. Her poem "All Souls' Day" is nominated for a 2012 Rhysling Award.]


(cross-posted from http://www.shannonconnorwinward.com/)

I have discovered that writing short stories is dangerous to my mental health.

I strive for balance. I've said this before - my dearest wish is to portion out my have-to's (housekeeping, exercise, balancing the checkbook, doctor's appointments, childcare), want-to's (gardening, meditating, learning), and MUSTS (writing... also, writing) in some kind of predictable routine. I want to feel peaceful, accomplished, and satisfied in life



rather than constantly fighting to catch up with one thing or the other.



As it turns out, though, my muse is a bipolar bitch who refuses to be yoked.

After months of crippling writer's block, largely due to frustration with my current novel, I started work in February on several short stories I had promised to anthologies. Moving them out of my mental queue would be helpful - obligations to other people always loom large in my mind. I feel guilty, and distracted from anything else I mean to do.

Plus, I figured that short story work would help me transition back into writing the novel - being shorter projects, self-contained and conscripted to a certain theme. Like running sprints to get ready for a marathon.



And I was right - come April, I've gotten back in the habit of writing, got the juices flowing, won my confidence back. And I think I'm ready to start the long journey once again, for all those reasons...

but also because, damn. Writing short stories is apt to kill me.

It's like this: when I start a project, I start out slow. I like the 250-words a day challenge - a promise I can keep on any given day, doable even over morning coffee while the Kinglet eats his waffles and watches Spongebob before school. If I don't know where I'm going yet, or need to think about a scene, I can write enough to still see the story grow, even if I don't come back to it for the rest of the day.

Eventually, the daily wordcount gets higher. I get to know the characters, get invested in what's happening. The project blossoms from something to play with into something I need and want to do. Then - voila - I'm writing a story.

With novel writing, this process works great for me. I can build a routine around it, writing something almost every day, feeling good that I'm chugging along, every day another step in that journey of a thousand miles...

The trouble with shorts, though, is that it only takes a few days of writing before you can start to see the end. For me, that's where the crazy kicks in.

I think, oh, look. I'm almost there. If I push it, I can make it... just a little farther. Come on now, girl, work it. Dinner? What? No. Mommy's working. Let me just kill of this character, finish this scene, search and replace all those -ly words, wait. This passage isn't working, I just need to DAMN IT LEAVE ME ALONE.

*TWITCH*

No more writer's block - now I've entered into a compulsive, manic creative state. When finally (HUZZAH!) the draft is finished, I look up to realize it's eleven PM, my child has been sent to bed without a hug, my husband has slunk off to amuse himself with Netflix, my back hurts from sitting so long, and (lately) I've chain-smoked my way through an entire pack of Djarum specials. *cough*

BUT THE DRAFT IS DONE. Now what do I work on next? Hmmm. What about that other story...

I've completed three shorts since February, two for the anthologies and one I hope to start shopping soon. But I think now, for the sake of my family and my sanity, I need to chill.

Novel writing is hard - damn hard - but at least the end-game madness is a long time in coming.



(cross-posted from http://www.shannonconnorwinward.com/)