moving on...

It's been two and a half weeks since my mother-in-laws' passing and life is slowly moving towards a new normal. Sometimes it feels as if her funeral was months ago, sometimes as if it were yesterday. Such is the nature of time and healing, I suppose.

I've had this past week off from school and planned to get so much writing done! But we're tasked now with dealing with her house and I have an uncle for whom I've become caregiver and of course, the garden needed cleaning off and we have sixteen people coming for Easter dinner on Sunday and...

You get the picture.

It's been a while since I have taken time to myself to write something new. And the writing workshops? Sorry, they haven't even been on my radar. Looking at the calendar today, however, gave me a bit of a shock. The last time I sat down to write on my current work in progress was February 20th. Nearly two months ago.

That brought me up short. No matter what else is going on in my life, I always have time to write. I have to. It's what keeps me sane. In the past ten years, the longest I've gone before this was two weeks and I was nearly a basket case by the end, wanting to get back to my characters. What was different this time?

This time it was the number of directions in which I was pulled. I wanted to spend time with my mother-in-law, knowing there wasn't much more time to spend with her. Instead of writing, I'd go visit her. I needed to spend time with my elderly uncle, playing financial forensics with his accounts and helping to move him into an assisted living facility (we're almost there!). My son and daughter have both gotten engaged and I wanted to spend time with them and their significant others. I had to spend time at my day job if I wanted to continue to eat and pay the mortgage. Something had to give and that something was writing.

It was a choice, make no mistake about that. I'm not regretting my choice at all. Just offering explanations as to why I made it. Family comes first. Always. Your families should come before all else in your lives, too. My hope for all of you is that they do.

So no regrets.

Today I had an afternoon to myself and thought about writing but realized I'd need to start at the beginning and re-read the book to remind myself of what it was all about, and I just didn't have the energy. The characters, understanding their place in my life, have graciously moved to the wings and are patiently waiting for me to call them back to the stage, but I just couldn't do it. Not yet. I want to give them the full attention they deserve.

So what did I do instead? The next best thing. I lost myself in a book. At the Big Book Getaway, I bought a copy of Debbie Macomber's new book, Rose Harbor in Bloom and waited in line to have her sign it for my mom (Mrs. Macomber is my mother's favorite author, bar none). Mom read it and let me borrow it earlier this week. Debbie's books are easy reads. There isn't a lot of heavy philosophy. No long passages of description. The characters are likable and you feel like they could be your neighbors. In other words, a perfect book for an afternoon's escape.

I will get back to writing. Soon. You can count on it. The itch is already starting between my shoulder blades. Another week or two and I think I'll be ready to be creative again. In the meantime,

Play safe and hug someone you love!
Diana

My Mother-in-law

So, ten years ago, my mother-in-law, Nina, was diagnosed with leukemia. She started a rigorous regimen of chemotherapy and radiation treatments that successfully killed the cancer cells in her body.

Unfortunately, it also killed every white blood cell as well.

For sixty-five days, she remained in a sterile room at Strong Memorial Hospital in Rochester, NY, waiting for them to come back. Her blood was tested often, the lab techs desperately searching through the red cells to find the white blood cell fighters. Because that's what the white ones do - they fight infection. Without them, a simple cold can kill you.

At the end of sixty-five days with nary a white blood cell in sight, the doctors gave up and acquiesced to her daily question, "Can I please go home to die?" She wanted to be home for her final moments, not dying in a sterile room an hour away from her family and friends. With regret, the doctors conceded that, while the cancer didn't kill her, the cure had.

So you can imagine everyone's surprise when, two weeks after being home, a blood sample (yes, they were still taking them, pitting hope against hope) showed not one, but two white blood cells! A week later there were four in the sample and another week later she hit double digits. By the end of the year she was declared cancer-free and released from all restraints.

That was ten years ago.

Two years ago she was diagnosed with colon cancer. She'd put off her screening and by the time it was found, it was too late. She underwent emergency surgery, but the cancer had already spread to her lymph nodes and they couldn't get it all with the scalpel. Back to chemo treatments. Doc gave her 3-6 months. Yes, the same doctor who had treated her before and who now called her his "miracle patient."

Eight months after the initial diagnosis, Nina threw herself a going away party. She rented a small banquet room at a local restaurant, invited close friends and family, and had a celebratory dinner, complete with a large, decorated cake for dessert. Her husband and daughter had passed away in the years between her cancer bouts and she lived alone in the house she and her husband had bought just after their marriage. The house she intended to die in. The attended in spirit, with pictures of all of us spread around the room to enjoy.

At the party, she gave out envelopes containing checks for various amounts. She said she wanted to see people enjoy the money she was able to give them, rather than have them spend it after her death when she wouldn't be around to watch. We had a cake and she even invited her cancer doctor, who made a great speech about how she keeps turning science on its head. When asked how many other patients he had that kept bouncing back the way she did, he answered honestly. "None."

Two months later, she fell and broke a wrist. We were starting to get concerned about her living alone in the house and checked up on her often, but she was adamant: she was staying where she was.

Seven days later, she fell again and broke the other wrist.

Chemo treatments were stopped as they'd made her bones too brittle to withstand these falls. She went to a local nursing home for rehab, having to learn how to feed herself with a cast on each wrist (hint: it ain't easy!). At the end of summer the casts came off and she came home.

By February, however, she was getting weaker. Her fierce independence was being assaulted by the growing cancer. My husband would go over every morning to get her started and his brother and his wife would stop in during the evenings to put her to bed. By March, we had a calendar and a system in place that provided 24/7 watchers because she'd fallen two more times, putting a hairline fracture in one hip and separating the muscle from the bone in the other.

We are not professional caregivers, however, and she needed more medical care than we could give her by ourselves. She wanted to go back to the nursing home for rehab for her hips and, after a struggle, the insurance company said yes. Her independence asserted itself there, too, as evidenced by the first day when her physical therapist found her, alone, without her walker, in the bathroom washing her hands. She was just standing there, though, because she couldn't get back to the bed by herself. Ya gotta love such determination!

But cancer always wins in the end. She went, officially, into hospice on March 30th and we knew it wouldn't be long. She would tell stories, but her strength was ebbing and we could catch only a single word in about six. As the pain increased from the cancer and the broken hips, morphine took over and she spent a lot of time sleeping. On Wednesday, April 2nd, at 10:15 in the morning, she slipped away.

Her sons were with her, as was her other daughter-in-law. My husband said it was an incredibly peaceful moment. The space between breaths lengthened and then...she just didn't breathe in again. She was gone to meet her husband and daughter on the other side.

I cry as I write this. I keep thinking I've done with the tears and then someone will make a reference or I'll see my husband's bent shoulders and the tears fall again. She's in a better place. I firmly believe that. Her pain has ended and our lives move on.

But I will never forget a woman who had the gumption to give herself a going away party. She was an inspiration and will be missed.

RIP, Nina Duprey. Requescat in pace.

Update

Just checking in. Things haven't changed much since the last update...although my mother-in-law is in hospice now. She has good days and bad days and we're trying to spend as much time with her as we can.

I haven't been writing. Not that I don't have the time, time is there and I find myself looking for a good escapist movie to watch, or I'll scrapbook old baby photos or I'll....you get the picture. What I don't do is write. It's as if my Creative Muse has stepped back and said, "You go do what you need to do. I"ll just wait here. I won't abandon you, but right now you need to spend your mental energies elsewhere."

You gotta love an understanding Muse.

Diamond Submission is back in my hands - ready for editing. I will get to it this week as I get to it. It deserves my undivided attention. So does my mother-in-law. So does my 82-year-old uncle who still lives alone -- and shouldn't. So does my mother, who just turned 80 this week past - my mother who always thought she'd be dead by 70 because both her parents were.

So it isn't a matter of time, it's a mater of mental capacity. I have a great Far Side mug where the cartoon is of a class filled with students and a kid raising his hand. The bubble over his head says, "May I be excused? My brain is full."

I am that student. :)

Take care everyone, play safe and, with any luck, those of us in the Northeast will be able to stop shoveling snow soon!

Diana

Catch Me If You Can

I teach two college classes -- Composition I & II. One of the assignements I give is to write a movie review. We all watch the same film in class (the students have to come to consensus on it - which is a hoot to watch!) and then they write reviews. I do the same, just because it's fun. Yeah, I'm a writer-geek and proud of it!

Last year we watched Ironman and you can read my review here. Read on for this year's film review.

I recently had occasion to view the semi-biographical movie, Catch Me If You Can. This movie, directed by Steven Spielberg and starring Tom Hanks and Leonardo DiCaprio, tells the story of the real-life adventures of Frank Abagnale, Jr. (DiCaprio), a con-artist and master forger and Carl Handratty (Hanks), the FBI agent charged with catching him.

Steven Spielberg has experience telling biographical stories, having already done so with Schindler’s List. His strict attention to detail creates vivid images the audience will long remember. He brings that attention to detail to bear in this movie as well, from using period costumes and settings to the music playing under the scenes.

But he goes further, delving deeply into the parts of the story where reality and truth don’t quite line up. Into places where realism plays against reality. It is when the film presents these moments that it truly shines and moves from the realm of just another popcorn movie into the category of excellence.

Two Franks: Senior and Junior

Frank Abagnale, Jr. is a loveable con-artist. He’s debonair, intelligent, quick-witted and handsome. The audience cheers when he becomes the substitute teacher, loving the respect and obedience he commands from students his own age, simply because he’s dressed in a suit coat and tie and puts authority in his voice.

That acting with authority is a huge part of a grifter’s repertoire and Frank wields it as like its natural-born talent. It isn’t, of course. He learned it from his father, Frank Senior. One of the first father-son moments in the movie is the father using the son to pull a con on a bank to increase his chances of getting the loan he so desperately needs.

In fact, that scene is one of the first where reality and the truth don’t quite line up. Frank the elder wants to arrive at the bank as if he’s a big shot, so he scams a woman into loaning Frank the younger a nice suit so his son can pose as a chauffeur. They arrive in a fancy car and make a great show as if this need for money is a minor setback, nothing more.

But the reality is twofold: one, Frank Senior really needs the money to keep his store or he will go out of business. He’s desperate. And two, the elder Frank doesn’t really know how to pull off a con. Sure he gets the suit for his kid, but once inside the bank, his confidence crumbles when the manager tells him, “No loan.”

Neither of these two, the elder or the younger, like reality very much. They both prefer to live in a world of their own creation. Frank Junior continually attempts to get his parents back together, mostly by suggesting his father can win her back with things (a Cadillac or a trip to Hawaii, for example). His inability to accept this reality is tested again and again and it isn’t until he sees his half-sister in the living room window that he accepts the fact his parents are separated forever.

Frank, Jr. would much rather live in the world he creates with his cons than in the real world as it is. We see this again at the very end of the movie when Frank accepts a job with the FBI. The day-to-day grind (symbolized by the stacks of files that workers pile on Frank’s desk) becomes tiresome and when Frank sees a pilot’s uniform for sale, he takes off. Literally. Only when Carl “catches” him at the airport and tells him look around, that no one’s chasing him, does Frank see another type of life. The thrill of the chase is done and over with. It’s time to face reality and he does.

Frank Senior, on the other hand, never accepts reality. Sure, he accepts the inevitability of his divorce, but at his son’s expense. “Where you going, Frank? Someplace exotic?” is his mantra, the questions he asks his son each time he sees him. He lives vicariously through Frank Junior’s adventures. Even when his son doesn’t contact him, we are given no reason to believe he will change his ways. He’s blamed other people for his troubles for decades (the IRS is “after him”, “They have all the money,” “I wasn’t going to let them take it from me, so I closed it down.”) and we are given no reason to believe he didn’t go to his grave thinking his troubles weren’t his own fault.

Spielberg shows himself to be a master of juggling multiple plot lines in order to tell one, straightforward, linear story. He uses flashbacks throughout the story to tell the story of this father-son relationship so the audience gets the backstory as to why the two are so out of touch with the harsh reality of their lives. We see his parents very much in love in happier times, we see the moment his mother moves out and we see the father confronted by the reality of what his son is doing. In every case, reality and truth don’t quite match. It’s this consistency that makes this a better-than-average film.

Carl Handratty

Carl is the antithesis of Frank Abagnale, Jr. Where Frank thinks quickly on his feet, Carl becomes clumsy and flustered. Frank is smooth and debonair, Carl can’t even tell a knock-knock joke. Frank moves through a world of high class establishments, Carl works in a gray office filled with hard edges and difficult-to-use technology. Where Frank represents the dream, Carl embodies the reality.

Spielberg skillfully juxtapositions these two characters throughout the film, jumping between the stories of each man as one chases the other. The most startling contrast comes when Frank is with the high-priced call girl in the very swanky hotel and Carl is in a dark, gray office lit only by the light of a single harsh light bulb. The dream vs. the reality shown in stark, visual contrast.

However, Frank and Carl have similar disassociations with reality. Toward the end of the movie, we discover Carl is divorced and hasn’t seen his daughter in nearly two decades. This surprises Frank because Carl had earlier referred to as a little girl. Yet she is an adult. Carl justifies his lie by saying she’ll always be little to him because he has no memories of her growing up. Adding in this bit of information isn’t trivial. Frank and Carl eventually become lifelong friends; in order to believe that this could be possible, Spielberg needed to show us that it didn’t matter which side of the law they were on – the two men were more similar than different.

Brenda Strong

It’s worth noting this character, even if she has a small role in the film. Brenda Strong (Amy Adams) is the woman who finally catches the heart of Frank Abagnale, Jr. For her, he decides to settle down, be one person—Frank Connors—and lead the life of a normal man. He crams for the Louisiana Bar exam and passes it, even though his courtroom style comes straight from Perry Mason. It is for her that he begs Carl to stop chasing him, to leave him alone now.

Of course, Carl can’t do that. Laws have been broken and restitution must be made. Brenda ends up being used as a patsy to catch Frank, a ploy he sees through, escaping by using several of the techniques of the con he’s picked up along the way.

But Spielberg makes us feel sorry for Brenda. She’s stuck in a hard place, having already been thrown out of her house for a mistake she made once before. She loves Frank, but one can imagine a scene not in the movie—a scene where her father presents her an ultimatum once more: help the FBI or move out of the house again. Even the way she stands on the sidewalk waiting for Frank shows us an unsecure, scared young woman. Because of Spielberg’s framing of the shot, we do not blame Brenda for being the bait, we empathize with her instead.

Final notes

The setting of the movie is in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s – a time period I remember well. While I don’t remember Mr. Abagnale’s appearance on “To Tell the Truth” I do remember the show – and Kitty Carlisle. She was iconic to the show, asking hard questions in her attempts to discover the truth. She had a biting wit that often went to the heart of the matter. The blending of actual footage showing her asking the questions with the actors pretending to be Frank Abagnale, Jr. was seamless – and I looked hard. Spielberg used the same video recording techniques to match the styles. It was so seamless I still don’t know if the other two pretending to be Frank were present-day actors or the actual men from the 1970’s show. IMDB does not provide a separate listing for either of them, although both Joe Garigiola and Kitty are listed as cast members of Catch Me If You Can.*

John William’s music choices were spot-on for the film. “Embraceable You”, the song his parents dance to in their living room, is a wonderfully romantic song to set as background to the story of how they met and fell in love. “The Girl From Ipanema,” a light, frothy song played during the segment at the Tropicana Hotel, changes to the chase music when Carl realizes his unsub is still in the building, clueing the audience in that something is afoot.

In fact, this chase music, a clarinet melody played in short, quick notes, is set up during the film’s opening sequence, where the entire story is played out in stark shadows. It returns each time Carl gets a clue and moves a step closer to capturing Frank: when the waiter gives him the comic book clue and he realizes the person he’s looking for is a kid, at the father’s apartment when Carl notices a return address for Frank, at Frank’s mom’s house when Carl sees Frank’s picture in the yearbook—and again at the engagement party when they miss Frank by only a few seconds. The skillful use of this audio clue continues to build excitement in the audience.

Stephen Spielberg’s movie, Catch Me if You Can, might be about a criminal, but it is entertaining. He skillfully interweaves the lives of these characters, using the contrasts of reality and truth to tell a story about three men who, despite their differences, also have many similar traits. Through the use of realism in his movie, we believe these people are real and that their lives are well-represented. A good movie that's better than an average popcorn flick!

NOTE: According to Wikipedia, all three actors playing Frank, Jr. in this segment were actors. 

Body Language

Please welcome Nancy Corrigan as our guest blogger today. She's talking about the use of body language to express emotion in a scene. Something too often overlooked!

From Nancy:

I love using body language to build my story. Partially, this stems from my joy of people-watching. So much can be learned from how people interact with others. Here’s a little snippet from my latest release to show how Devin expresses his feelings.

Excerpt from Beautiful Mistake

He reached up and ran his long fingers through the patchwork hair. The strands fanned with the movement, settling against his shoulders. With the second sweep through the locks, he yanked handfuls of the colorful hair, a groan accompanying the rough tug. She dropped her gaze before she gave into the urge to ask if he was all right. Her fascination with him wasn’t healthy. Outward appearances didn’t make the man and this one was a dangerous predator. Big cats did not make good cuddle buddies.

She pushed her body into a sitting position. The movement tugged her abused stomach. Preparing for the worst, she glanced down and didn’t see what she’d expected. Instead of a bruised and beaten body, she saw her familiar tanned skin—blood free, without any ugly black and blue splotches.

Her shoes had been replaced by a pair of large socks, the tops rolled down to help them stay on. Scratches marred her legs from the edge of her exercise shorts to her feet but none were bandaged nor did they need to be. The only square of gauze covered the wound on her belly.

“How long was I unconscious?”

He tensed and rubbed one of those big hands over the back of his neck but didn’t turn around. She glanced away when it became apparent he wasn’t going to answer and ran a finger over a splotch of shiny new skin on her knee. Anxiety settled in her bones. A lot could happen in a matter of days.

“Few hours,” he muttered. She looked at him. His arm was folded against the wall, his forehead resting on it. “I tended your wounds. Most won’t scar.”

Picking apart the emotions

Now, Devin’s upset, guilty and stressed in this scene. He’s the one who caused Lena’s injuries and he feels horrible for his actions. So, what are his body language clues?

He runs his hands through his hair and yanks on the strands to portray his frustration, groaning as he does so. Rubbing his neck is an automatic response to his guilt, but it’s his inability to look at her which drives it home. He folds his arm against the wall, defeated and shamed while he admits that his actions left a permanent mark on the woman who will end up saving his soul and his mind.

Activity from Diana:

Okay, time to review your own writing. Go back to your current wip and take a look. Where can you add in body language? Any words you can take out and express through a character's action instead? I know this is something I struggle with. With my theatre background, I tend to focus on dialogue and figure the reader can fill in the details. This is fine when I'm writing a play where the actors like to have some wiggle room for their own interpretations.

But romance readers want to be able to see the scene in their own imaginations. And body language is a great way to help them do that.

Try it. Take a scene that needs some beefing up and, instead of concentrating on the dialogue, add in movement, stance, gestures. Go overboard. You can always pull back later.

Enjoy!

To find Nancy on the web, you can visit the following:

Website: http://www.NancyCorriganAuthor.com

Facebook (profile): http://www.facebook.com/nancy.corrigan.79

Facebook (page): http://www.facebook.com/NancyCorriganAuthor

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/Nancy_Corrigan

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/nancycorrigan79

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/nancy_corrigan

The Sandwich Generation

Last year at this time I wrote a post about how I tend to write non-fiction when life gets in my way. There must be something about the month of March because I find myself in a similar place today.

Google images

I called this post "The Sandwich Generation" but I have to admit, I didn't truly understand that term until recently. A relatively new term, it refers to those who are both raising children and taking care of elderly parents. When life expectancies were short, this situation didn't arise very often. Today, with the wonders of modern medicine, people live longer, more active lives.

And this has led to the sandwich. My parents moved to a senior citizen apartment complex in December (read a little about the move here) and that brought stresses that now, for the most part, are gone as they've settled in and found new routines. At the same time, my adult children were making decisions about their own futures and needed advice and nurturing. Who comes first, the parents who raised me? Or the children I am raising? 

Perhaps the sandwich metaphor isn't right. Maybe the fulcrum of a teeter totter is more appropriate. The trick is to balance both sides and not get worn down in the middle.

And now it's two other elderly family members who need our assistance. My husband's mom has taken a turn for the worse lately. Yes, the same mom we thought had only a few months left last year. She's been amazing. Told she had only a few months left, she made plans, threw herself a going away party, and got ready to leave the world. Yet here she is, a year later, defying the odds and baffling the doctors. She's more bed-ridden than not, however, and several falls have taken their toll. She now needs round-the-clock care and the family is trying their best to cover all the hours of the day.

And I have an uncle, who also still lives alone, who is showing some signs of dementia. He never married and has no children of his own, but he was my favorite uncle when I was a kid. Because he physically lives closest to me, his care falls on my shoulders. I don't mind, please don't think this is a complaint. It's the way things are and I'm having fun learning new things about him. He's always loved to tell stories about things he's learned and I love hearing them. I always have.

But I'm definitely feeling stressed. Why? Because in the midst of this, my son has become engaged. I want to give him and his fiancee their time in the sun as well. My daughter is looking to start a new life, too, with a new job and new career path (although she's still in love with stage management, should any of you be looking. She's also an incredibly gifted stage painter). Both my children still live at home and I cherish these last few months as a family of four + two. 

So sandwich or fulcrum...I'm either getting squished or worn down. Both negative metaphors. But I'm not a negative person. I prefer the glass to be half full. I like the sunny side of the situation. I need a new metaphor.

Erwinna Covered Bridge, Bucks Co, PA

A bridge. Bridges are strong and useful. They bring people together and provide opportunities for people on one side to learn and grow from those on the other. They are static, stable and pretty (at least MY bridge is! That's my story and I'm sticking to it.). Some bridges are sleek and new, others are old and traditional.

I think of myself as a covered bridge - a little on the old side, but picturesque and still in use. The roof protects, the planks are sturdy, the way is clear.

Even if I do feel like a covered bridge in a snowstorm right now, the metaphor works. :)

So if my writing on the blog isn't as regular, if you want a reason I haven't sent a newsletter out since October, if you want to know why my next book is delayed... know that I'm busy being a bridge right now. I'll get back to my regular activities soon enough. Perhaps too soon.

Play safe!

And go hug your generations...

Diana

Sorry, everyone...

Hey folks, quick post to let you know my mother-in-law has taken a turn for the worse and I won't be posting for a bit. She requires round-the-clock care and the family's taking turns being with her. Keep her in your prayers, if you will.

I'll be back as soon as I can.

Diana

Big Book Giveaway

If you're in the southern Connecticut area this weekend, be sure to stop in at the Mohegan Sun Casino. I'll be there at the Big Book Getaway, sponsored by the Mark Twain House and Museum. This is the first year they've invited erotica authors and I'm thrilled to join fellow Sizzling Scribe Tara Nina in a panel discussion at noon on Saturday. We'll also be joined by Avril Ashton and Karen Stivali, two other Ellora's Cave authors.


Because of this appearance, Ellora's Cave has put not one but TWO of my books on sale for the next two weeks. Both are 25% off, which is a great deal! Click on the pics to purchase!

Hope to see you there...and get your copies today!

Play safe,
Diana

Writing Outside Your Comfort Genre

Please welcome Karoline Barrett as our guest poster today!

     Thank you, Diana for letting me guest blog!

     I grew up reading romance and women’s fiction, so naturally, when I began writing short stories, they were romance and women’s fiction. I’d decided that was my comfort genre. When I wrote my debut novel, it was suspenseful women’s fiction with a romantic element. I was right at home writing it.

     One day, my agent told me that Harlequin was joining with Cosmopolitan Magazine to put out Cosmo Hot-Reads, was I interested in writing a novella for them? They had to be sexy, contemporary stories featuring fun, fearless women who know what they want from their lives, their careers, and their lovers. Did I want to take it on?

     Did she mean erotica? I  confess to reading Cosmo a couple of times a year, and I  tried reading Shades of Gray, (but couldn’t get past the horrible writing), so I’m not opposed to reading erotica, but write it?

     Why not? I thought. Sometimes it’s good to go where we haven’t before. It’s good for the brain, and  helps us grow as writers. I told her I would try. I prepared by reading The Complete Idiot’s Guide To Writing Erotic Romance. But even after I read that, I admit I had problems writing the descriptive sex scenes. I loved my characters, I loved the plot, but I danced around the actual sex scenes. It’s just not what I write. At least in such detail.

     After reading my first draft, my agent told me I had to be more descriptive with the sex scenes. I thought, “Oh Boy!” and  picked up an erotic romance at Barnes & Noble. I wish  I could remember the author’s name  because I loved the book, and  I loved that she replied to me when I emailed her and asked her how on earth she could write such descriptive, vivid sex scenes. How could I write a beautiful sex scene that was lusty, hot, and verrry descriptive (and without the words “pulsing manhood”)?  I remember her telling me  “Practice saying those words until they come naturally.” I did, and it helped.

     I actually had a lot of fun writing that novella. It’s called HAVING IT ALL, and while Harlequin didn’t bite, my agent has it out on submission again. It was a growing experience and while I don’t see myself writing erotica full time,  I’d like to see it in print, and I wouldn’t mind writing another one. Or two. It was good to step outside my comfort genre!

 

     If you’d like to know about me and my debut novel THE ART OF BEING REBEKKAH, please visit my website here.

Activity

Okay, folks...you knew this was coming...time to try writing something outside your regular genre!

This is throw some spaghetti time. Open a new document or, in your writing journal, turn to a fresh page. What genre have you NOT yet written in? Take a moment to jot down the particulars of the genre (murder mysteries have red herrings and plot twists, romances have a happily-ever-after ending, for example).

Then start writing! Dive right in and see where the genre takes you. Yes, I know you usually start by plotting or you write by giving your characters their heads and seeing where they go. Forget all that today and just write. Think genre...and go!

Thanks to Karoline for a great post that's gotten us moving in a fresh direction!

Diana

What authors need from editors

In education, teachers write objectives to guide their lessons. These have to be measurable so that the teacher will know if the kid reached it or not. When I first started in the profession 33 years ago, they were all written with the starting words: "Students will be able to..." Eventually most of us reduced that to SWBAT...

But a few years back I learned another way of writing objectives and it made a whole lot more sense to me. Called by the unfortunate name KUD (we educators like our abbreviations nearly as much as the military!), the three letters stand for Know, Understand and Do. What do you want the kids to know about the subject, understand about the concepts and do with the material?

I got to thinking today about editors and what I wanted from anyone I might hire to edit my work. The KUD came to mind and so, I give you the following:

What I want my editor to KNOW:

• Proper grammar and modern punctuation rules
• The conventions of story - and when they can be broken

What I want my editor to UNDERSTAND:

• Dialect. Different geographical areas have different patterns of speech. So do different social classes.
• My impatience. At the point where the editor is getting my manuscript, my destination is publication and I want to get there yesterday.
• That egos are sensitive. Be strict but not mean.

What I want my editor to DO:

• Check for consistency (physical traits as well as personality quirks)
• Check the timeline for any mix-ups. I'm not talking historical accuracy, although that would be nice. I'm talking the timeline of the story. Make sure I didn't skip days or jump seasons.
• Identify any plot holes. All plot holes, no matter the size. I want to know where they are.
• Identify character and story arcs and note if the story veers from them.
• I have very good grammar and typing skills. Occasionally, however, I do make errors. Don't yell at me. Just fix them.

This is a work-in-progress. Please help me and add more to the comments below. What do writers need their editors to Know, Understand and Do? And yes, editors, feel free to add what you'd like to see from authors!

Diana

To the bitter end....

My husband and I just went to see The Monuments Men. A good flick, if a little slow in the beginning. But this isn't a critique of the picture, it's more of a commentary on the audience.

Now this one was well-behaved. Mostly older than us (which isn't always a plus. Some old folk need volume control for both their ears and their voices). They watched the movie and chuckled when they were supposed to, tensed when the action got hairy...in general, they acted like well-mannered adults at a movie theater.

And then they left. En masse. The story part of the movie ended, there were a few shots of the real Monuments Men and pictures of the actors alongside their name to help the audience know who played what part. The screen faded to black and the cast list started rolling, white letters on a black background, and the exodus began. Immediately.

I strongly object to this. For two reasons, one practical, one artistic.

The practical: where do you think you're going? The aisle is too narrow to allow everyone to leave at the same time. A line forms and you're going to stand in that aisle until the passage clears. Alternately, you stand in front of your seat waiting for your turn to step into the aisle, which is worse because of reason two:

The artistic. The style of film making today puts all the credits at the end, after the story is complete. Everyone who worked on the film...the extras, the stunt men and women, the grips, the gaffers, even the composer of the music came in this section today. And I wanted to know who wrote the music because I collect soundtracks and can often identify the composer while watching the film (for the record, I was wrong this time...see below).

These people put just as much time and effort into the film as the actors did. Some of them put considerably MORE time in. And yet, people walk out of the movie theater without giving their names a second glance. Audiences don't care about these behind-the-scenes crews.

But I do. I stay every time. The ushers who clean up between showings are often come in and start their job while I'm still sitting there watching names scroll by. One of the ushers today made a snide comment asking if we were staying for the second showing. I ignored him and kept watching the screen as the songs rolled by. There's a song sung in the film and I didn't recognize the voice and wanted to see who it was.

NOTE: There are some films that put a little scene post-movie that they run after the credits. Audiences have learned to stay through the credits for the Marvel movies, for example. They know they'll get a little treat - a sneak peek into an upcoming movie if they stay. While I enjoy these, it's almost like a bribe to get audiences to acknowledge the people who put the movie together whose faces are not on the screen. I know audiences see it as a reward - I stayed, now give my my carrot.

The first movie I saw that put a short scene after the credits was The Mission. I'd taken my mother-in-law to see it and it takes her a while to get moving again after sitting for so long. She was fussing with her coat as the last of the credits rolled and missed it entirely. A very short piece that, for me, changed the meaning of the movie entirely. The cardinal looks into the camera and dares you to disagree with his decision. Very powerful.

And I was the only one to see it at that showing. Everyone else had left and my mother-in-law wasn't paying attention. I stood in total amazement at how such a short piece (less than a minute in length), could flip a film so fast, and then I stood in amazement that those who had left the theater were now discussing it with incomplete information. They hadn't stayed and had missed a wonderful addition.

I stay to the end, until the blue screen comes up and there is no more movie. Why? Part curiosity, part wanting to give those people their due, part stubbornness (okay, there's a lot of stubbornness, especially when ushers get snarky). It's something I feel strongly about (in case you couldn't tell!).

So if you ever come to the movies with me, don't bother to gather your things when the credits start to roll. Stay relaxed, seating in your comfy seat, because there is music playing and names to read. Give those people the honor of reading them.

(note from above concerning the soundtrack: John Williams uses similar orchestrations in all of his films. During one part of the movie I thought the sound very close to the Indiana Jones' theme so I pegged this as a John Williams' soundtrack. It wasn't. I had to nearly lay on my husband's lap in order to see around the woman who'd stood in front of me and blocked my view, but the soundtrack was written by Alexandre Desplat, one of my favorite composers. :) )

Play safe!

Diana
who now climbs down off her soapbox...

Reflections on process

It’s about the building, they’ll tell me. Not about the climax. It’s the journey, not the destination.

And I get that. I really do.

But I get impatient.

Whether going on vacation, reading a story or writing one, I just want to get there.

Take family vacations. Forget the scenery in between home and wherever we’re going. I’d rather go to sleep and wake up there. The time between leaving home and arriving at our destination is time to be lived through, time to occupied, usually with  thoughts of where we’ll be in a few hours – or a few days. Only at our destination am I able to move into that fully-actualized state know as existing “in the moment.”

Or watch me read a novel. The closer I get to the end of the book, the faster I read, oftentimes skimming to found out how it all turns out. The author’s taking too long and I just can’t wait! It’s the rare book, indeed, that can slow me down. Good books I’ll finish and then promptly re-read the last few chapter to pick up the details I missed in my rush to the end.

The same holds true, however, when I write a novel. Since I’m a pantser (meaning I write by the seat of my pants and without a plot in mind), I don’t know how it’s all going to turn out in the end. Heck! That’s why I write the book in the first place – to find out! I know that it will turn out, I just don’t know how.

Like I said, I get impatient. I start with the best of intentions, adding detail and fully-fleshed out scenes. The closer I get to the end, however, the more shortcuts I take. Writing sessions get longer so I can get done faster. I have to know what happens!

As a result I often end up with a rather skimpy section of rising action just before the climax of the book. All the plot details are there, but the flesh of the scenes is not. This, then, is where the bulk of my re-writing happens once that first draft is done and my questions are answered.

In fact, when I finish that first draft, I often feel as if I’ve finished a race. I feel the same exhilaration of being done, the same exhaustion.

Of course, that’s when the real work begins. Editing is where craft kicks in. Rewriting sentences, changing verb tenses to make thoughts flow more smoothly, sometimes even changing a scene’s point of view, are all done after the story’s complete. This is where I add detail and make the character’s motivation clear (why on earth did the hero do THAT?)

Potters have it easy. They can buy clay for their sculptures. They don’t have to go grub in the dirt and find it for themselves. They go to the store, buy their clay, take it home and make beautiful art.

Writers, however, make their clay from scratch. Once that first draft is done, once the mess of creation is done, only then do they have the material needed. Only then can they play around with the words, twist them into new shapes, roll them into solid chapters, spin them into art.

Once I get to this stage, my natural impatience slows. I once again can live in the moment of my novel, crafting the story and character arcs, finding just the right word, giving it a final polish.

And I do take my time here. I use word counters and Wordle to look for my habit words. I read whole sections out loud to check for sentence flow. I do a continuity check and make sure my hero’s hair color didn’t suddenly change in the middle of the story (although I’m really not good at catching things like that). But my process slows and I live not only with the story, but in the story, finding its nuances and enjoying the magic of the world.

Then, when I’ve reached a point of saturation, when to look at it one more time will show me nothing new, then and only then, is the manuscript ready for an editor.

But that’s a different post for a different day.

Activity

In your journal, write a reflective piece about your process. No judgements here, simply making note of your own foibles and processes.

Enjoy and, if you're getting anything out of these workshops, please consider a donation.

Diana

January in review

I have to make myself accountable to someone, I think, in order to reach my goals. To that end, in January, I read two books, saw two movies at theatres (and about a dozen at home), watched two out of the three new Sherlock episodes (no spoilers! The last one's on tomorrow night!) and wrote 11,769 words for either the blog or for my new Mystic Shade novel.

What two movies? The Secret Life of Walter Mitty and August, Osage County. I enjoyed both of them - and for much the same reason. Each one took its time in the storytelling. Neither one had a single car crash, although both had a fist fight - sort of. Kind of nice to slow things down and take a closer look every once in a while and both these movies did that quite nicely.

I did start two books: Emma by Jane Austen and a biography of Jane Austen. We're reading them both for our book club this month. I bought the wrong bio and read half of it before I discovered my mistake. It's all good. Actually, it's kind of fun reading two different takes on the same person. I haven't finished any of the three, so they'll actually count in February's list. For the record, though, the two biographies are: Jane Austen, a Life and Jane Austen, A Life Revealed.

So, a good start to the writing! I wrote today, too, on a different piece, but again, that'll count for February. So far, so good!

Play safe,
Diana

What writers know (or don't) about their own writing...

I love this from new writers who think they actually know what makes a good story or a bad one. Of course they don’t.

                                                                                                            Wesley Dean Smith*

This quote makes so much more sense to me now that my husband is a painter than it did when I was a beginning writer.

My husband began to paint three years ago. For years, nay decades, he’d been saying, “one of these days I’m going to learn how to paint.” I finally got tired of hearing him and bought him canvasses, paintbrushes and a gift certificate to the local Michaels for Christmas. I then told him, “Shut up and paint. If that’s what you want to do, stop talking about it and do it.”

Well, he did it and I’ve been blown away by his success. He’s come a long way in a very short time; he sold his first painting six months out and his work is now in several galleries throughout New York’s Southern Tier and Finger Lakes with, most recently, a few pieces placed in a shop in Rochester. Just last week he had his first international sale and one of his pieces is even now winging across the Atlantic to a collector in England.

What has amazed me most about all this? The paintings people choose to purchase.

Now I have a critical eye, especially towards composition and color. My husband, being a newbie at all this, plays around with both those concepts, sometimes to great effect, sometimes not so much. Sometimes the paintings are garish, or there’s too much foreground…a tree is out of place or colors clash within the painting.

Guess which ones sell?

You got it. Almost all the ones I don’t like.

Everyone has their own taste. There are times my husband will walk away from a painting saying, “I have no idea if that one’s good or not.” He’s too close to it. His sweat and energy and time are all bound up in that paint. He’s ceased to be objective.

We writers are in the same boat.

I know, I know. There’s an old trick many of us use (I still do) of putting away your manuscript for a few weeks and coming back to it with a fresh eye. That works. It really does and I see it as one of my necessary steps for editing. It helps me find the typos and the occasional continuity error and the (even rarer) gaping hole in the plot.

I also used to think I knew what was good writing and what wasn’t. Good writing was what I learned in school. It had rules to follow, although experienced writers were allowed to break them. But you had to know them in order to break them, so we dutifully learned the parts of a story, the various literary terms and techniques, good grammar and how to craft good sentences. Talent was needed, but raw talent wasn’t enough to make you good. Learning all of the above and applying it to your stories was what made you a good writer.

But whether readers will or won’t buy it? I have no idea. Some of my books fly into readers' hands, others sit there and go nowhere. And it doesn't matter what I, the author, think of the book. Shooting Star is one of my favorite books, yet the sales have been...disappointing. Is it a bad cover? Poor blurb? Poor writing? Without reviews, I have no idea.

So Dean Wesley Smith is correct: we writers are too close to our creation to know whether the book is a good one or not. The best thing we can do is put it out there and move on to the next. The second best thing we can do is beg for reviews so we can learn from our readers.

So picture me on my knees, begging for a review of my books. YOU tell ME what you liked (and disliked) about it. Let me see the book through YOUR eyes.

All my self-published books are listed here. Visit the site where you purchased the book and leave a review. Or leave a review at Goodreads, if you have an account there. And, if you want to make sure I see it, drop a comment below or send me an email with the link so I can find it.

*I've lost the post where he wrote this. If anyone happens on it, let me know?

Yes, on occasion I do read...

Okay, so I have been doing a few other things other than watching Chuck. I’ve also read two books this month – one that took me two weeks to read and one that I read in a day.

Mary Poppins, She Wrote; the Life of P.L.Travers by Valerie Lawson was the first book I read this year. I’d seen Saving Mr. Banks (twice!) and wanted to read the book behind it. Partly to see how much the movie got right and partly to know more about Mrs. Travers. With the Walt Disney Company as the money behind the movie, I was a little worried they’d slant it to their side. Let’s face it, in the movie she’s not a very pleasant person. Yes, she comes around at the end, but was that the truth?

Mostly, yes. Mrs. Travers wasn’t a very nice person. She was vain, self-centered and always demanding respect as if it were her right rather than earning it the old-fashioned way. Biography is hard to write: in this book it is sometimes hard to separate the author from the subject. Lawson does a good job of defending Mrs. Travers while at the same time including her warts.

Still, the book took me a while to read because I kept getting impatient with Pamela. I wanted to shake her, give her the scolding she needed but never got.

And she changed her mind – often. She told stories for a living…and for her own amusement, apparently. She did like the movie made from her books, then, with a different group of people, she didn’t. Her opinions depended on who she was with.

Okay, enough of P.L.Travers. It’s a good read of a very unpleasant person. ‘Nuff said.

The Snow Child I read in a day. Written by Eowyn Ivey (either her parents were Tolkien geeks or she is!), the story is part-fantasy, part Alaskan adventure. The early chapters reminded me of Mrs. Mike by Benedict and Nancy Freeman. But then it takes a sharp right turn into mystery that borders on the fantastical and the story moves swiftly to its conclusion. In fact, I didn’t want to put it down (hence the devouring in a day).

So, one month almost over and I’ve binge-watched an entire TV series (all five seasons) and read two books.

Now to get back to writing…

Diana

PS. I usually link the author's names to their websites but I couldn't find a site for Ms. Lawson. But that, perhaps, is a post for a different day.

Solitaire is not a waste of time

Several years ago, my husband came into the study where I was writing and found me playing a game of Shanghai (a type of Majongg) on the computer instead of adding to my manuscript. He chuckled and made several "gotcha"-type comments. I tried to explain to him that I was still writing, even though it looked like I was playing a form of solitaire.

And I was writing. In my head. While the game kept one part of my brain busy, another part was thinking through my current plot line, trying to figure out how to get from where my characters were in the manuscript to where I needed my characters to be.

Scientific American has a great article on this, detailing a study done involving multitasking. And that's really what's going on when I play these simple "mindless" games on the computer. It's almost as if, by playing the game, I'm getting the boss out of the way so the workers can do the filing, swap stories with each other, and stand around the water cooler solving the problems of the world.

In other words, playing solitaire gives my subconscious time to clean up its act and get organized.

So the next time you're stuck in your manuscript, or when writer's block has you all in knots, play a game or two of solitaire. At first, don't try to listen in on the conversations those workers in your brain are having. Just let them do their thing. With practice, you'll get to the point where you can almost hear them as they rustle and file and buzz at the water cooler.

And when you open that manuscript again, the ideas will be there, as if by magic.

But it's really by solitaire.

Go write..or rather, go play a game of solitaire!

Diana
PS. Full disclosure: my favorite solitaire game is the Spider Solitaire that came with my computer. In the past two years I've played just over 4000 games, winning an even 1000 of them. And I've written several short stories and two full-length novels, too!

Open endings

Okay, have finished the five seasons of Chuck...the last episode made me cry! But I love the open-ended strings they left hanging for a future TV movie - or just for my own imagination - to continue their story, giving the characters new adventures. Even Jeffster has a great story arc my mind can play with!

And that, of course, got me to thinking about my own story craft. I was always taught that all plots need to be tied up in the story's resolution. No loose ends.

And Chuck did that. Each of the characters have their happily ever after ending. We know where Casey is going, even if we don't watch him go there. We understand Beckman will keep on keeping on and that the Buy More will always be the Buy More. The lead characters are together, just as they should be, and the secondary characters have pleasant paths for their lives to follow. No loose ends.

Yet...

The writers of the show give us a bunch of new plot twists that invite speculation. Will Chuck and Sarah give up the spy life forever? Will Devon and Ellie like their new digs? Will Morgan and Alex get married? Viewers can make up their answers to this and dozens of other questions. This is the hallmark of a successful series.

So what does that teach me about storytelling? A great deal.

Leaving the characters in a good place gives closure for those readers who need a sense of finality when the last page is turned. Tie up all the plot lines that have run through the three, four, five (and more!) books. That's important.

But leave room for those readers who like to dream. What happens to Middle Earth now that Aragorn is king? What kind of a dad is Harry Potter? Will Jamie and Clare's grandchildren also be able to travel through time?* Readers who can't shake off the story at the end of the last book don't want to leave the world the author created. They've fallen in love with the people and the places and want more stories set in this world.

From such desires, fan fiction is born. Different authors have different views on fan fic, but the reality is, readers want more stories and, if the author won't (or can't) write them, they'll write their own. Heck, even I started that way. I have a Star Trek fan fic that was a ton of fun to write. The original series had been taken off the air and there were no plans for ever breathing life into it again. The animated series had come and gone but the movie was still years away. I wanted more stories with Kirk and Spock and Scotty and Bones so, since Paramount wouldn't do it...I wrote my own.

But I digress.

Speculation.

The desire to create more stories for characters after that last page is turned.

This is something I need to keep in mind in my own series. I have two of them; Journey to Submission series with Ellora's Cave (although their website doesn't have the books labeled yet**) and the Jack Kariola slaves series (Mystic Shade, author). Because I write BDSM stories, I don't think either of them will get much in the way of fan fiction. But, and this is the part I need to remember, both can let the imagination run wild and invite the readers to add new adventures, new predicaments, new experiences.

I could, however, do much more for each series. Drop little hints and throw down an outside plot line that may (or may not) become important to the characters. Tie up the big plots, yes. But leave some open-ended so the readers can take those tidbits of information and play with them.

I'm working on a new Jack Kariola book now. I will definitely have to keep this in mind!

Lesson learned, Chuck! Lesson learned. :)

*Lord of the Rings series by JRR. Tolkien, Harry Potter series by JK Rowling, Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon

** Secret Submission, Submission Revealed, and Services Rendered. The upcoming release, Diamond Submission, is also part of that series

Play safe!
Diana

Did you ever...

...get so heavily into a story you forgot there was another entire world called Real Life?

That's been me the past few weeks. I wish I could say I've gotten into a new novel, writing my fingers to the bone. Or that I'm reading some great book and am so into it, the real world could fade away and I'd never notice.

But no.

That which has caught my attention the past two weeks has been a TV show. Yes, I hang my head in shame. I've been watching TV.

As a rule, I don't. Watch TV, that is. I have a few guilty pleasures that I watch each week, DVR'ing them for when I have the time. Castle, NCIS and Agents of S.H.E.I.L.D. are the only ones I really watch, although Big Bang Theory has been a favorite for a while, even if I don't catch it every week.

But that's it. Three hours per week. The rest of my leisure time is spent writing, reading, daydreaming, scrapbooking, making a puzzle that I got for Christmas and yes, even doing some housekeeping (darn dust! Keeps coming back!).

No, the TV show that's caught my attention is one most of you have probably already seen in its entirety. It's no longer on the air but my son's been pestering my husband and I to watch it for a very long time. He bought all five seasons on DVD and they've been on the shelf for several months. At the beginning of this month we finally started binge-watching them and have been having a lot of fun. What series, you ask?

Chuck.

I love the campiness that's full of heart and earnestness. I love that the characters have all been allowed to grow, Morgan especially. I'm blown away by the guest stars...Richard Chamberlain? Be still my beating heart!!!!

Every night we watch two or three episodes; this past Sunday we stayed in, camped out in the living room and watched ten episodes in a row. We took breaks but we'd gone shopping and gotten snack foods and munchies and pretty much just grazed our way through the afternoon and into the evening. I haven't felt so relaxed in ages!

I am sorry I've neglected the blog and the writing workshops. Beside my computer are a bunch of notes for upcoming posts and I will get to them soon. For now....wait. General Beckman is calling.

Gotta go!

Diana
PS. Play safe!

A Happy New Year to A/all!

Last year I wrote about my writing resolutions for the year. Among them was to keep a word-count diary with the ultimate goal of hitting 250,000 words for the year across all platforms (short stories, long stories, the blog, novels...). How did I do?

Well, the diary lasted longer than most of my resolutions...right up through June. At that point my schedule changed and I never had the diary with me when I was writing. By the time I'd get to where the diary was, I'd forget to write down the number of words for the day and by September, I'd totally forgotten I was keeping track of my writing.

The total as of June? 85, 135 words.

Since then I've written 55 blog posts, some of them longer than others, a few only a sentence or two in length. Two hundred words is a good average, so 55 x 200 = 11,000 words we can add to that. I wrote a short story in August of approximately 20,000 words, so we can throw that in the pot (Diamond Submission. It will be out via EC before summer. I hope. More on that in a future post.)

In June, 12 Days of Christmas (Bondage) was only 1/4 written, so that means I wrote another 38,000 words for that. Give or take a word or two.

All together? 85, 135 + 11,000 + 20,000 + 38,000 = 165,135 words. Just a little short of my goal.

Okay, a lot short of my goal.

What does that mean? I'll just have to do better this year! And I think that'll be easier this time around. I lose the day job at the end of June (181 calendar days to go...but who's counting? ME!!!!). That means I'll be writing full-time after that. So I won't have any excuses this time next year.

So I'm keeping that as a goal for this year: write 250,000 new words in stories and blog posts. In addition, I will write a new Mystic Shade novel to be out before June. Diamond Submission will be published by EC (waiting on my edits). I will get back to the fantasy I've been trying to finish for years.

And, like last year, I'll learn something new (thinking of taking a course in small business administration), read a lot of books (maybe I'll keep track of them here again as I did one year. I liked doing that. Made me feel like I really read a lot!), and above all, I'll hug my family and tell them how much I love them over and over and over. This is a year of change for us and, while exciting, there's also some fear under the surface.

Here's to a great year for A/all!

Play safe,
Diana

PS. This post marks the first 475 words of the year!

Realism and writing

 Is there such a thing as too much realism in fiction writing?

This morning I happened to glance over at my husband’s soap sitting in front of the shampoo bottle (too long to explain why we each have our own soaps, suffice it to say we do). The shampoo, one from the Aussie family, is in a deep purple bottle with a sky blue swath across the front. Steven’s soap of the moment is the exact same shade of blue. The two complement each other beautifully. A rare moment of color-matching in the shower.

Yet if I were to put that into a story, readers would slam the book shut (or close the file on their ereader) saying, “No one color-coordinates their shampoo and soap. That’s just stupid.”

I’ll leave the judgment aside, but the sentiment is honest. We’ve all read books that explain every little detail to the point where the story is bogged down and the characters forgotten. Yet, isn’t that realism?

I would argue no. Think about your daily life. How much detail do you really notice? I don’t know about anyone else, but the cobwebs have to be pretty thick before I even realize they’re hanging from the corners. I can drive past the same house every day for three months before I realize it’s undergone a paint job.

So how much description do you really need to provide that sense of realism in your stories?

It all goes back to character. Sherlock Holmes notices an immense amount of detail, Watson doesn’t. How much would your characters notice?

The companion question to that is, why would they notice? If your character is anal retentive or OCD, they’re going to see the napkin holder’s been moved or that the salt shaker needs filling. Little details like this can very helpfully show character traits.

If, on the other hand, your character spends most of the time with his head somewhere else, his mind wandering or puzzling over a problem, he might not see the stool or would trip over the shoes he (or someone else) kicked off and left in the middle of the room. Again, a way to use detail to show character.

What does the matching shampoo bottle and soap say about my husband? I’d like to say its his painter’s eye coming to bear in small but pretty ways, but I know its an accident. Something that just happened. Are both legitimate character motivations? Absolutely. And if I were to include such a small detail in a story, it would be clear as to which motivation it was.

Activity

Go back through your current work in progress and look for those telling details. Examine the ones you’ve included: what are you telling your readers about your characters by including it? If it’s there primarily to set the scene, again, is it an important detail? One that will come into play later on?

I ask that last question because of a question I got one time during a table read of the first three pages of my (still unpublished) fantasy novel. Vivian Van Velde, a young adult fantasy author, was at my table and made the comment about the flower my protagonist stopped to examine. She said (and I paraphrase), “It must be important later on, for him to have taken the time to notice that particular flower.”

I just smiled and thanked her for her observation. In my head I’m thinking, “Drat. It’s just a flower. It has no significance whatsoever. I’d better re-write that!”

So be careful with reality. Over-describing it can lead the reader into false paths. A useful tool if you’re writing a mystery, but not so much if you want them to focus on your characters’ actions.

Rule of thumb: Give only the details that are important to the people who populate your books. If it’s something they’d notice or that would be important to them, include it. If it’s important to the plot or to understanding the world you’ve created, keep it.

Otherwise, think hard before allowing it to stand.

Enjoy writing!

Diana