Good writers write whether they are in the mood or not. They practice whether they feel like it or not. It’s the only way. Everyday practice. That’s how you get better.
– Heather Sellers
Month: March 2011
haiku 154
north by northeast
two flights of geese
cross a contrail
Pen to Paper: Walk-ons
Author Bill Henderson, at Write a Better Novel, has an interesting article up about walk-on characters and how powerful they can be. As he says, real life is made up of lots of people outside our main cast of characters. They play important roles even if they don’t take up a lot of time on our stage. Bill shows us how to make the most of these characters in our stories.
Most of what I write is too short for walk-ons, but this will come in handy for me someday when I tackle my version of the Great American Novel — if not sooner.
While you’re at Bill’s blog, be sure to click on the About page to learn who one of his writing teachers was.
Fiction: Perks
“Off to work?” Amy asked.
“As always,” Will said. “Off to bed?”
“Yes. Long day.”
“Sleep well.”
“I hope to.” She smiled at him. “Don’t get caught up in your work.”
He grinned back at her. “I haven’t yet.”
“Oh, you might keep an eye out for a pair of earrings that would match the lovely amethyst necklace you got me.”
“I know just the place to look,” he said. “Good night.”
“Night.”
She snuggled into her cool bed, wishing again he was going to be there to share it with her. Still, despite the negative aspects of Will’s job, there were some perks to being married to a burglar.
Quotable 42
The only way to get ideas for stories is to drink way too much coffee and buy a desk that doesn’t collapse when you beat your head against it.
— Douglas Adams
haiku 153
low clouds thicken —
the world ends
three hills away
Pen to Paper: Books about Writing
Fiction: Hippocratic Oaf
Shawn began a lap around the hotel’s pool. He wore shorts, sandals, a tank top, and a white lab coat with the name Dr. Kemann stitched underneath the hotel’s name and logo.
This was one of his favorite parts of his most excellent life in Ecuador. He had spotted a nubile young blonde on the other side of the pool. She was sunning herself and was a scant few centimeters of fabric shy of getting an all-over tan. Kemann would go over to her, introduce himself, caution her to take care in the sun, offer to apply more medically thorough sunscreen, and — if history repeated itself — end up in her bed that evening.
The beautiful young woman, and more than a hundred others before her, was why he had become a hotel doctor in the tropics.
As he approached her, the pager in his lab coat pocket chirped at him. He frowned; this was no time for some guest to have indigestion. Still, such interruptions ensured his continued employment.
The little screen said merely “Urgente.”
Quotable 41
There is no royal path to good writing; and such paths as do exist do not lead through neat critical gardens, various as they are, but through the jungles of self, the world, and of craft.
– Jessamyn West
haiku 152
translucent moon
solidifies
with nightfall