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Tag Archives: Fishing

Write what you know?

06 Apr

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“Write what you know!”

Almost every ‘How To’ book on writing preaches this advice. For most non-fiction writers, this is sound advice usually is taken straight forward. Whether it is memoir, historical, How-to or any number of other topics, you should write about things that you know something about, are interested in or even want to know more about. It gives the reader a feeling of comfort knowing that the author isn’t just pulling information out of a hat.The author’s ‘expertise’ adds weight to the written words.

However, this advice can be very interesting advice when given to a fantasy fiction writer. Few of us routinely wield a sword or cast a magic spell. Fewer still have actually passed through a portal to find themselves in another realm where dragons, elves, wizards, and goblins walk the land. Most of the individuals that I have met who have taken the aforementioned journey are either sitting quietly in a catatonic state because they have left their material bodies behind. Or, they are unable to write about their journey because the medication they are given makes writing anything except their name difficult. So, how does a modern author use this advice and write about what they know?

Fantasy is created in one’s imagination. So, having a vivid imagination is a standard prerequisite. Those of us whose teachers wrote on our report cards that we spent too much time staring out the windows daydreaming were pretty good candidates. However, to draw a reader into your fantasy story, there has to be some measure of reality. Something familiar. Maybe it’s making a campfire, baking a loaf of bread, riding a horse, dressing a wound, or bartering with a merchant at the local farmer’s market. These types of skills obtained in modern society, can be easily converted to a fantasy story and in doing so, bring a sense of realism to the reader, drawing them into your world. If you are lucky enough to have hobbies like, archery, martial arts, herbalist, camping, astronomy, Chemistry, or being some form of entertainer, you have real expertise in areas that can easily be incorporated into a fantasy setting.  Your knowledge will, if used moderately and with skill, add authenticity to your world,

Another excellent source of knowledge for the fantasy writer is to have been immersed in a culture foreign to their own. Dealing with language, customs, food, clothing, and belief differences gives the writer unique insights and tolls to use when describing their world to the reader. Not only the differences themselves, but the feelings of having to deal with a foreign culture is a form of expertise that can be invaluable to the author.

If you still are not sure that you ‘know’ anything, here is an exercise to help you. Get a pad of paper and a pen, Give yourself 30 minutes to and hour of uninterrupted time. Write down things that you know about. Leave nothing out whether you think they can be related to your story or not. Start with your education. What did your like or do well at in school? What sports or social activities did you participate in? What did you do after school for fun? How did you fill your time during summer vacation? What did you do on the weekends? What do you do to relax, What do you do for fun? List places you have traveled to. What did you do there? What experiences did you have? What was the food like? Music? Dress? How did you feel being the outsider? What do you do for employment? Be specific and list tasks you perform. What are your hobbies? What are your chores around the house? By now you should be getting a very long list of things where you have some level of knowledge. Maybe even expertise. Keep this list handy and refer to it often to remind yourself that you do know something!

A very short list of my interests and knowledge base, that I use regularly when writing, includes: Cats, Native American Spirituality, Archery, knife-making, emergency medicine, herbal remedies, gardening, contingency planning, woodsmanship and fishing. My actual list filled two pages of a legal pad.

Now that you have determined that you do know something, look at the list and think about how you knowledge can be used to help strengthen your story. Maybe you need to add skills to one or more of your characters. Maybe you should add detail to your descriptions of scene.

NOTE: A word of caution! Adding too much detail about mundane tasks is a sure way to lose your reader. Remember that not everyone cares how many coals are required to bake peach cobbler in a cast iron dutch oven. (I seem to recall it was eleven on the bottom and seven on top. it has been a long time.)

Add just enough detail to add realism. If the details are important to your story then you have a little more leeway. Your beta readers or writing group can help you with how much is the right amount.

So, don’t be shy. Write about what you know. You know a great deal!

Let me know what you know. I’d love to hear it.

 
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Posted by on April 6, 2015 in Thoughts on Writing

 

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Concentration

30 Jan
The Dot is one of the most basic forms of concentration exercise.

The Dot is one of the most basic forms of concentration exercise.

I’m going to take a departure from my usual fare and talk about one of my other passions. No, not fishing. The water is to ‘stiff’ right now for that. Unless you’re one of those people who think sitting on a bucket in -50 degree wind chills looking down at an eight inch hole in the ice waiting for a really stupid fish is fishing, I do not!

Nor, am I going to discuss the nuances of crafting a fine hunting knife from a piece of steel and a few scraps of wood and brass. Though that might be a good topic for a post some other time. Today I want to talk about archery and why I love it so.

I am a traditional archer, which means I shoot a longbows, recurve bows, or primitive (self) bows. I have owned and shot the modern compound bows with wheels and cams and sights and such. But, I found that I like the simple “Stick and String”.

One of my recurve bows.

One of my recurve bows.

It started at a young age. My father would come home from work and even before dinner, the family would go into the back yard and shoot at a paper plate target pinned onto several straw bales stacked upon each other to form a backstop. We would spend hours in the evenings and weekends as a family shooting for fun. I the fall we would go to our vacation property in Wisconsin and bow hunt for the elusive White-tailed deer. Before I was old enough to go out on my own, I would tag along with Mom. Yes, my mother was an avid bowhunter long before it was fashionable for women to do so. She would find a place to stand along a likely deer run and sit me down at the base of a nearby tree to wait. usually, I would fall asleep. In high school, I gave up archery in favor of football and I didn’t take up the bow again until after I was married.

So, why does the ‘mystic flight of the arrow’ compete with my writing and fishing? They actually have a lot in common. The most important commonality is, for me at least, they take concentration. Different forms of concentration to be sure. But still the mind is exercised and stretched. During the ten to fifteen seconds of my archery shot sequence, I can not allow anything other than the shot to enter my mind. During the last few seconds before I release the arrow, there is only the small dot on the target. there is nothing else. only the dot. Where the arrow will ultimately strike. If I allow outside thoughts to enter in, the shot will be off. Once the arrow hits the target, my mind can relax until I am preparing the for next shot.This process of concentrate, relax, concentrate, relax, does a wonderful job of removing stresses of the day, calming the spirit, relaxing the body, and focusing the mind.

Look at the eyes, even after the shot. Concentration!

Look at the eyes, even after the shot. Concentration!

Then there is the satisfaction of watching the flight of a perfectly shot arrow. The unerring, arching path as the colorful feathered fletching rotates the shaft. Smooth arching flight. Over again and again. Each arrow carries with it negativity and stress. The perfectly shot arrow will always make you smile.

 
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Posted by on January 30, 2014 in Traditional Archery

 

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A Renewal Accord

16 Jan
Courtesy of Free-picture.net

Courtesy of Free-picture.net

Two years ago, today, I posted the inaugural Welcome Post on this blog. Within minutes, Teschoeborn was the first to Like and comment. Truthfully, I about fell out of my chair when I saw the comment notification light come on. She was also a newbie and we said we would support each other as neither one of us knew what to expect. Little did I know just how much support I could expect from the world at large.

In the beginning, I thought this blog would be about writing and the journey of becoming a published author. As usual the best laid plans… I have virtually met some fascinating people from around the world, many I consider my friends. That is not trivial for me to say.

The blog has covered topics ranging from writing craft, to real space adventures involving the MAVEN project, to creating longer arrows for a traditional bow, to poetry, to eagles, and even a fish story. Not quite what I had in mind when I started.

As I look back, it occurs to me that the blog has done exactly what it was supposed to. It shows the journey. The only constant in life is change.One of my favorite sayings supports this constant. “This too shall pass.”

My approach to reading other blogs has changed as well. At first it was mostly new writers and a few legitimate profession writers. These days I spend time on poetry blogs, photography, editors, Olympic athletes, and blogs by classical musicians. I recently read my first romance novel. notice how I buried this information deep in the post. 😉 I’ve written reviews and critiques of published works. All in all a very interesting journey.

In the midst of one of the coldest winters in recent Minnesota history, I reflect on the purposes of winter, rest and renewal. I have learned to cherish time off. I guard it like Ft. Knox. I no longer take rest or afternoon naps (when I can take them) for granted. You will too as age sneaks up on you.

And so, I am renewing my blog for another year. WordPress offered me two years for the price of one but I’m not sure I can commit to two years. Seriously, I am looking forward to sending out my posts and reading yours. As Mr. Miaggi would say, “You and I will make sacred pact. I promise to write blogs that are at least somewhat interesting. That’s my part. Your promise to read them and comment. That’s your part.” Good. We have an accord.

Now it’s nap time. See you in two hours!

 
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Posted by on January 16, 2014 in Musings and Odd Thoughts

 

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Fisherman/Writer’s dilemma

28 Oct

The dock and boat lift are out of the water. Leaves scatter across the yard and what’s left of the huge oak’s canopy, filters the grey sky.

A strong, northwest wind has whipped up the open water on the lake. Whitecaps roll along for nearly a mile before crashing into the south shore creating a foamy line. However, in my protected cove, the water just ripples. The reflected light throws off yellows and golds between flashes of the grey sky. It looks cold. Dark and cold. The cool clarity of Spring and the light green warmth of the summer algae bloom are gone.

The lake still calls to me. To test my skills against its denizens. I reach for my rod and reel. One more day of fishing before the North Wind turns the water to ice. The sharp air cuts into my fingers. Tiny white flecks of snow give me pause.

I look over my shoulder through the glass door and see a fire crackling away in the wood stove. The quilt mom made lays draped across my favorite chair. The laptop sits quietly on the side table waiting patiently for the me to create the next scene.

The weather man said tomorrow will be warmer with less wind. He’s been wrong this year as many times as there are leaves on the ground. “One can only hope,” I mutter. I shove my hands back into my coat and head into the cabin.

The warmth of the fire hits me as I walk through the door. “What tortures can I inflict on my character today?” I ask myself.

The writer wins … today.

 
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Posted by on October 28, 2013 in Musings and Odd Thoughts

 

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Return of Eagles

17 Sep

BaldEagle_135-Perching_on_tree_limb

My first wild bald eagle sighting was years ago at Cape Canaveral, Florida. I was on the bus tour and as we drove out to the Assembly Building, the bus driver indicated a huge mass of branches and sticks sitting in the crotch of a huge tree. He told us it was a bald eagle nest. The nest was nearly twelve feet across. Sitting on the edge of the nest was a mature eagle. I had only read about them before and they were still on the endangered species list at that time. My heart went into my throat thinking that this might be the only time in my life I would see one of these magnificent birds. The use of DDT in the fifties and sixties had serious effect on the eagle population. the poison affected the shells of their eggs. thinning them until the weight of the adult bird setting on them was sufficient to crush the eggs. In 1972 a ban was imposed on the domestic use of DDT. However, it would take many years for the eagle population to recover. Thankfully, I would get another chance to see these birds in 1982.

My brother and I were fishing the South Platte River just south of Denver, Colorado. A shadow passed over our heads and we looked up to see a bald eagle gliding just above the tree tops. It soared out over Cooley Lake, dropped down and took a trout out of the water without so much and slowing down. It flapped away to a nearby tree to feast on his catch. What a sight.

EagleFlight

The eagles continued to rebound from the brink of existence and in 1995 I got to see something truly special.

The banks along the Mississippi River has become a breeding area for the eagles. The numbers continue to grow as the river provides good fishing opportunities. I was driving across the river bridge to Hudson, Wisconsin when I was blessed with the opportunity to witness the mating flight of an eagle pair. They turned and dove, cartwheeled and climbed, talons grabbed talons as the two giant birds embraced for a few seconds and then plummeted down only to soar up again. there was twenty or so cars that simply stopped on the interstate highway to watch this spectacle.

Deadly dance of rebirth

Deadly dance of rebirth

Last weekend, I was at my cabin and I stepped out onto the deck with my morning coffee. When I closed the sliding door, i heard a whoosh followed by the whistling thump, thump of huge wings lifting and equally huge bird into the air. The eagle had been resting on a branch, fifteen feet above my head. I could actually feel the power and air movement coming from its wings as it took off. It soared out over the lake toward one of the islands as I watched the white head and tail shine in the morning light. It immediately brought me back to the Cape and my first sighting. I hope I never take seeing these birds for granted. It has been a long road back for such a magnificent creature.

 
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Posted by on September 17, 2013 in Musings and Odd Thoughts

 

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A True Fish Story – The Beetle Spin Theft

02 Aug
Little Black Beetle Spin

Little Black Beetle Spin

Since May 1st, I have caught a fish every day that we have stayed at the cabin. This alone should indicate some small prowess in my fishing ability. In addition, while performing as a fishing guide for family and friends, everyone I’ve taken fishing has caught at least one fish. More proof that I should know what I’m doing, right? Well, don’t be too quick to pat me on the back. Last Friday evening, I had an altercation with two fish that might indicate a chink in my fishing armor.

As I stated, it all began last Friday evening when I announced to my domestic CEO that I was going down to the dock to test my mettle against the Lake. I grabbed my trusty 45 year old rod and reel, rigged with a little black Beetle Spin and walked down to the shoreline next to the dock.

I made a few casts into the lily pads near shore. There are usually a few bluegills or crappies hiding there. I got no bites. My next cast was supposed to land just shy of my boat lift. However, my aim was a bit off and the little black Beetle Spin sailed over the lower lift bar, which was about a foot and a half above the water.

As soon as the little black Beetle Spin hit the water, a small crappie took it. The fight was short as most crappie fights go. The hard part was trying to get the fish over the lift bar without snagging the line. After a few tentative attempts, I finally jerked the little fish up and over the bar without breaking the line. Once it was back in the water, the crappie was landed without further difficulty. As usual, I released the unharmed fish back to the water within a few seconds. (If I want to eat fish, I go to the store or a Red Lobster restaurant.) This catch wasn’t pretty but kept my honor intact.

Now, if you have not read this part as foreshadowing, you should. If I had stopped fishing after catching the crappie, all would have been good. However, I hate to end a fishing session with a questionable catch. So, I confidently walked out to the end of the dock looking to find another fish.

The little black Beetle Spin landed perfectly on the outside edge of the patch of lily pads that separates my dock from my neighbor’s. I reeled up the slack and began retrieving the lure. It was about halfway back when I saw a large swirl appeared in the water behind the little black Beetle Spin. The rod tip bent severely and I felt the weight of a large fish. I raised the rod tip and a second later I heard a pop and the line went slack. The end of my line came floating back at me. My little Beetle Spin was gone!

“Damn, big toothy critter” I said as I reeled in the now limp line. That’s what we call Northern Pike.

‘Northerns’, look similar to a barracuda only with green stripes. They have large mouths that are full of razor sharp teeth. They are the top predator on many of the 10,000 lakes in Minnesota.

I tied off the end of my line and stalked back to my shed, grumbling the whole way. I hate losing little black Beetle Spins. I put the rod in the shed alongside the fourteen other rods I store there. Then it struck me. My pride was hurt. The big toothy critter had stolen my little black Beetle Spin and that was unacceptable. What could I do? REVENGE!!!

I grabbed a rod that I rigged up for the CEO. It had a shallow running crank bait, attached to a six inch steel leader, attached to six pound line. The leader was designed to keep big toothy critters from stealing the crank bait. By God, I was going to fix the big toothy critter. I’d catch him and retrieve my little black Beetle Spin. I stormed walked carefully back down the dock grinning with malice and forethought.

The crank bait that looked like a small fish and houses a small rattle, soared out beyond the lily pads and splashed into the dark water. I took up the slack and cranked the lure down until it ran about six inches below the surface. I could still hear and feel the rattle as the lure wobbled along. The lure passed through the site of the theft and I swore, “Chicken shit toothy critter!” In response, there was a swirl behind the lure as if to say, “Bring it on fat boy.”

I calmly reeled the crank bait the rest of the way back just in case the big toothy critter decided to get mouthy. However, he was too cool a customer for that tactic.

I smiled though because he had shown his hand. He was still interested in biting something and I had something he was interested in.

The next cast sailed out beyond the lily pads and I cranked it down so the lure was running just above the submerged weeds. When the lure reached the crime scene, it was greeted with a huge swirl. The big toothy critter rolled over on the lure like he intended to inhale it and take it to the bottom. It was my first glimpse of the Northern’s green striped sides. “Ha,” I said as my suspicions were confirmed. The rod bent severely and the fight was on.

At this point I was pretty proud of myself. I had him. He had taken my bait and I had him. After few seconds of battling a fish of decent size, you start to think of how you will land it. That is when doubt came crashing into my head. This was a pretty nice fish, just under three feet long. That would put his weight at about ten and a half pounds. As long as he was in the water and didn’t wrap the line around a stump or heavy weeds, my six-pound line would probably hold up. The twenty pound steel leader was doing its job, so far. The problem comes in when you try to remove the fish from the water. Netting the fish is the preferred method.

I’ve got a net. Where’s my net? It’s in the boat, on the lift, on the other side of the dock. How can I get into the boat to get the net without losing the fish? Uh…Uh…Shit. Ask the CEO to help out.

I screamed for the CEO to come help me. No answer. Screamed again. Still no answer. Now What?

The water is too low to get down on my knees and hand-land a fish this size. Alright, think there has got to be a way. Maybe I could get lucky and just hoist it up on the dock before the line breaks. Yeah, right!

I tried it anyway and the fish chose that time to shake its head. Six-pound monofilament fishing line sliding rapidly across bare fingers is painful at best. “Dumb-ass!” Okay don’t try that again.

If I can’t lift him. Maybe I can beach him.

By now the fish is pretty tired and I can move him where I want him. So, I brought him around the end of the dock and made my way towards shore. He was upright and eyed me with a hostile stare.

The shore is not a beach. It is made up of melon-sized boulders and reeds. I realized as I approached the shore that I needed some speed to get the fish up onto the boulders and through the reeds to make it to solid ground. So…I began running up the dock dragging the fish through the water. I got to the boulders and the fish made it part of the way up. But, it got hung up in the reeds and the line broke.

Now, normally, the rest of the story would be the fish flopped back into the water and disappeared. Not in my story!

Thinking quickly, I dashed back down the dock and spun the wheel on the lift to lower the boat far enough that I could dive into it to retrieve my net. I’m not as small and agile as I used to be so this was not a trivial thing to do. Once I got the net and got back out of the boat, I ran back to where the fish lay on the rocks.

“Holy crap, it’s still there!” I netted the fish off the rocks and set him down carefully on the grass.

Okay, remove the lure from his mouth and get him back in the water. But, there are two razor sharp treble hooks surrounded by razor sharp teeth attached to a very angry, though tired toothy critter. I need my pliers. Where are my pliers? In the boat! Crap!!!

I ran back down the dock, dove into the boat, grabbed the pliers and scrambled back to the fish. Armed with the proper tools, I made quick work of freeing the lure from the fish and got a hold on the fish that was safe for me and the fish.

I was excited as you might guess and in most cases this would have been the time to snap a few pictures to show off on the blog site and FB. However, I did not have a camera or my phone. Even if I had one of them available, I would not have taken the time for a picture. You see, by now the fish had been out of the water for a few minutes and I was worried about him. Yes, you heard me. I was worried that I might not be able to revive him and send him back to his home in the dark water.

I quickly carried him to he shoreline that I could easily get down to the water. I set him on the rocks with his head in the water. His mouth opened and closed several times which gave me hope that he might be okay. For those of you not familiar with Northern Pike, they are a slimy fish and can be hard to hold on to. I slowly slid him off the rocks into the water while trying to hang onto him. If I couldn’t revive him, I didn’t know what I would do. He wasn’t big enough to pay to have mounted and I didn’t want to clean and eat him. So, I was motivated to keep him alive. He was about halfway into the water when I lost my grip and he slid the rest of the way on his own. I started to follow him into the water to support him until he was fully recovered. But, as a last way of saluting my victory, he wagged his tail and disappeared beneath the lily pads. Damn, I forgot to look for my little black Beetle Spin!

I got up and turned around. There, standing in the doorway to the cabin stood the CEO, laughing her ass off. She witnessed the last part of the episode and said later that she had not seen me move that fast in years. She also said, “That was a nice fish.” We laughed for days. Too bad there was no video running. It would have made great U-tube action.

Epilogue: Saturday evening, as I sat on the deck drinking a snazzy beer, I saw a big toothy critter roll on a school of fish out beyond my dock. Yea, he was alright. And there was respect.

 

 
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Posted by on August 2, 2013 in Musings and Odd Thoughts

 

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Back at it!

08 Jul

First real vacation with the domestic CEO in two years, ten days at the lake cabin, morning coffee looking over the water, at least one fish caught each day, retaining wall and stairs built around shed, domestic CEO’s family 2 day visit, staring up at the night sky to see the Big Dipper and wondering what the Southern Cross looks like; what a great way to spend the holiday!

The view for morning coffee.

The view for morning coffee.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The creative batteries have been fully recharged as only being completely relaxed can do.  Yes, there was a lot of work done to finish the retaining wall and steps, complete with planters. However, there was also a lot of time spent sitting on the deck or in the boat doing damn little.

Shed and Retaining Wall

Shed and Retaining Wall

Steps and planters

Steps and planters.  Sorry the pic is a little dark

 

Most important was sharing our little slice of heaven with family over the 4th of July holiday. Because we have had such miserable weather this spring, I find it necessary to brag and say that the weather for our entire vacation was freaking fabulous!!!

So… I am back in the saddle and keyboarding away. The schedule I set before going on vacation seems even more attainable than before. Maybe I’m just bright-eyed and bushy-tailed but, even with all of the problems in the world, life doesn’t suck!

I just realized that I have overused the exclamation point in this post. Sorry, that’s what happens when you go on vacation. You lose track of time and rules.  😉

The WIP is calling. Need to feed the beast and write.

 
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Posted by on July 8, 2013 in Musings and Odd Thoughts

 

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