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Where did March go?

11 Apr

I am sorry for being delinquent in my postings. Somehow three weeks have disappeared from my life. Once in a while my other life takes control of my writing life. So, it’s time to wrestle control back and get to the important things in life.

There was some good news since I last visited with you. I have started going to a different writer’s group. It’s very well established with serious writers in my genre. I’m still getting comfortable with the new surroundings so I have made no submissions for critique yet. Though, I will be interested to hear what this group has to say. The other writer’s submissions have been keeping me busy with reading. I’ve also been reading some books by local authors.

With stabilization returning to my world, more fun posts will be forthcoming. We’ll start with something on back stories and there will most likely be a MAVEN update. Another post will discuss game apps and the time sink (Distraction) they provide the unwitting writer.

The snow is melting and the temps are balmy (40 degrees). Spring is in the air. Whoo Hoo!

 

 
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Posted by on April 11, 2014 in Other Strangeness

 

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Once upon a time…

13 Mar
Once upon a time... Public domain image

Once upon a time…                                   Public domain image

If you have ever read folk tales, fairy tales, or fantasy stories of any kind, you have heard the words, “Once upon a time…” The purpose of the fantasy writer, and any writer for that matter is to transport the reader to another time and place. Can you think of four words that do a better job of opening the reader’s mind? The essence of this opening evokes the reader’s mind to journey to a land far away and usually a long time ago. The ‘Once” would indicate that the story only occurred one time. And, since most end with, “They lived happily ever after.” it would seem that the conflict that created the story was gone forever.

For the folk tales and fairy tales of old, This was a great way to open the story. Any time we heard that phrase we were prepared, and still are prepared to be transported to something special. We have talked about opening lines before and how important they are. However, the fantasy genre has evolved and expanded. Paranormal and horror have melded with fantasy. Vampires and werewolves have taken over for elves, halflings, and dwarves.

Urban fantasy has exploded. Every major city and more than a few minor ones have been converted into the hunting grounds for the above mentioned vampires and Lycans, as well as, zombies, wizards, demons, druids, fae, dragons, and yes, even elves. Writing about fantasy in the current modern world created some interesting challenges for writers. How to invoke that sense of wonder and departure from reality in a way the reader would believe.  

Take Jim Butcher’s epic urban fantasy series, The Dresden Files. In the first book Butcher uses the entire first page to introduce The main character. The new mailman can’t believe the sign outside Harry Dresden’s office. It says, ‘Harry Dresden, Wizard’. You see Harry is the only practicing wizard in the Chicago phone book. Butcher puts it in your face on the first page and you either accept it or not. but from that point on you know you are reading a fantasy story set in contemporary Chicago, Illinois.

Where Butcher uses a page, others still try it with one sentence. For example, let’s take the opening line from Kevin Hearne’s Iron Druid Chronicles, “There are many perks to living for twenty-one centuries, and foremost among them is bearing witness to the rare birth of genius.” Okay. We will be dealing with a person who was alive and fought with Genghis Khan. You think this is a fantasy story? And even though I am not a fan of vampire stories, this opening line to Jaye Wells’ “Red-headed Stepchild” had me for the duration of the series. “Digging graves is hell on a manicure, but I was taught good vampires clean up after every meal.” This vampire does NOT sparkle! But, she does have a great sense of humor.

So, what can we do to urbanize the classic opening, “Once upon a time…?” Granted it’s not as flashy but what about…

“Right now, in a city near you.”

 
11 Comments

Posted by on March 13, 2014 in Journey into Fantasy

 

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Just Weird!

14 Feb

Have you every sat down to do something and the next thing you know a whole day has gone by? It’s been eleven days since my last post and for the life of me, I have no idea where the time went. It’s not like when I was unemployed for five months and would play Harpoon on my IBM Model 50z from 9:00 PM until 3:00 AM. I knew what I was doing then. I was a conscious choice. I was trying to escape the fact that 250 resumes were sent out to 250 companies and only two interviews were generated. If you have to take off your shoes to figure out the numbers, that’s 248 reject letters!!! But I digress.

I got a flash update on MAVEN ans the next thing I know it’s Friday morning a week later and I don’t know where the time went. There is some good news. Wherever the time went, at least some of it went towards the WIP. Progress is being made and the writing habit I set out to create this year seems to be working. As you’ll see later even that had huge amounts of weirdness. Now that I know I lost time, I’ve been trying to find it. It’s strange there are just blank spots that I can’t account for. All of the important stuff got done like paying bills loving on the cats, and going to work. So, I was at least functioning physically. Quite strange.

Have you ever gone back to review your writing progress and determined that your word count for the last week has been EXACTLY the same everyday? I kid you, not! Every day since the 3rd the number of words spilling out of my head and into the laptop as been EXACTLY the same!!! The time spent writing varies from day-to-day by anywhere from five to twenty minutes.

So, what gives? Any ideas? Today is the full moon so that can’t be it. The waxing moon is my high energy period of the month. Maybe that plays into it? But, why do I write the same number of words? The scenes have been different in nature and feel. The one constant, which has been so for well beyond the period in question, has been writing have been fun. I like what’s coming out and it seems to be working. The muse is not fussing and the internal editor has gone south to get out of the extreme cold we’ve been dealing with.

Maybe this weirdness is a good thing? Oh, oh. i got an idea for the beaded moccasin scene, gotta go. See you later.

 
14 Comments

Posted by on February 14, 2014 in Other Strangeness

 

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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.

 
33 Comments

Posted by on January 30, 2014 in Traditional Archery

 

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The Last Tap Out

27 Jan

9835640-campfire-by-a-calm-forrest-lake-in-the-swedish-wilderness

Those who follow this blog know that a few months ago a friend of mine passed away. He was a strong proponent of the Boy Scouts of America. It is also where we met. Within the Boy Scouts is an honor society with a dramatic selection process. Shortly after hearing of my friend’s passing, The following Short came to me and I thought I would share it.

The bonfire blazed before us, 1,000 strong. We stood in long lines and stared out across the still water of the lake. At the edge of the firelight, a war canoe slid silently toward shore. Four great warriors paddled in perfect rhythm. Their strong shoulders and backs propelled the canoe across the dark water. Another warrior, wearing a headdress made from eagle wing feathers, rode in the center. He stared forward, rigid as an oak tree.

When the canoe came into view, many among the 1,000 shifted on their feet and began to fidget as if the chief was staring directly at them. Some murmured to each other in low voices. I stood still with my Brother, proud and erect. We gave our highest respect and attention to the coming visitor. Together we awaited the arrival of the Great Chief.

The great canoe landed with a soft crunch. The four Warriors jumped from the canoe and pulled it up onto the shore. Then, as smoothly as a fish moves through the current, the Great Chief stood and stepped onto the land. Together, the five visitors moved to the bonfire. Dew claw rattles on their ankles signaled each step. Paint on their faces and arms created stern visages in the firelight. The Great Chief’s arms were folded before him as he took position opposite us on the far side of the fire.

The Warrior to the right of the Great Chief stepped forward.

“SILENCE!”

All movement and sound stopped.

“RESPECT!”

All eyes were on the Warrior as his eyes swept across the 1,000. I dared to look him in the eye as his gaze fell on me and passed on. I reminded myself to breathe.

The Warrior looked at the Great Chief. Though nothing was said and the Great Chief did not move, The Warrior nodded.

The four Warriors broke off. One stood to the side at the far edge of the firelight. The other three moved to the end of the first row. They began to move slowly along the row. The Warriors looked straight ahead and seemed to pay no attention to the 1,000 who stood straight as Lodgepole Pine trees.

Suddenly, two Warriors fell upon one of the 1,000. They grabbed him and quickly pulled him out of line. Their steps were so rapid that the Chosen one was dragged, unable to keep up. The Warriors took the Chosen one to stand before the Great Chief.

The Great Chief unfolded his arms and placed his hands on the Chosen’s shoulders. Their eyes met and a moment past. Then the Great Chief’s right hand raised up and came down hard on the Chosen’s shoulder. The sound of flesh meeting flesh cracked across the firelight. Three times the Great Chief’s hand struck the Chosen. After the third blow, the Great Chief crossed his arms. The two Warriors again, grabbed the Chosen and took him to stand beside the single Warrior at the edge of the firelight. The Warriors returned to the line and continued along until another of the 1,000 was chosen and dragged before the Great Chief. The ritual was repeated as the Warriors worked their way along the lines of the 1,000.

My heart pounded in my ears as the Warriors approached. They stepped in front of me and seemed to hesitate. They turned as one and grabbed my Brother. By reflex I stepped forward to protect him. A glare from one of the Warriors froze me in place. I was knocked aside as they dragged my Brother to stand before the Great Chief. After he was taken to stand with the other Chosen, I waited, expecting the warriors to return and take me.

When they did not, shock and self-doubt swept over me. Was I not worthy? Had I not proven myself throughout my life? Had I broken the code that all humans must live by. I again stood as before and silently called to the Warriors to return and take me to my Brother. Tears formed and rolled down my face. But the Warriors continued to walk along the lines of the 1,000, taking few to be tapped out.

When the Warriors had reached the end of the long lines created by the 1,000, Two returned to stand with the Great Chief. Two stood with the Chosen, now a score strong. The chosen were led off beyond the firelight where they disappeared into the darkness.

Those of us who remained looked to the Great Chief.

A voice, deep and powerful yet gentle sounded in my head.

“It is not your time my son. It will come soon enough. You have much yet to do. Go now and live well, love one another, and be strong.”

My tears stopped and I stood straighter. “Be strong,” I repeated to myself.

The Great Chief and his two Warriors returned to the canoe and paddled into the mists of the lake.

I whispered to the darkness beyond the firelight, “I will see you at the great council fire, Brother. But, not yet.”

By Dennis Langley

 
7 Comments

Posted by on January 27, 2014 in Musings and Odd Thoughts

 

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Lost – Writing partner

20 Jan
Nabu, Where are you?

Nabu, Where are you?

I walked into my writing room and suddenly realized there was a void in the dust on the dust atop the book-case. The space where my writing partner sat was bare. (You remember him from an earlier post. He took over my blog to get a new name. The name he chose was, Nabu, the Babylonian god of wisdom and writing which was suggested by Eagle-eyed Editor.)

What seemed most odd was that there was a trace of dust in the void. My uncanny powers of deduction indicated that my partner had been missing for some time. Now guilt struck me because I had not noticed his absence sooner. The excuse I have settled on is that I was so engrossed in writing that I simply overlooked his absence. I know, weak but passable.

I searched high and low, starting in the obvious places. As the god of wisdom and writing, it would make sense Nabu would go somewhere like my office or the other bookshelves in the house. However, I could not find him. I restrained from calling out to him for fear of what my two cats and the domestic CEO might say. My having a skull as a writing partner is still new to them. For several days I scoured the homestead. I even traveled to the cabin in search of my cohort.

One evening, the domestic CEO entered my office to find me desperately digging through a file cabinet. She calmly closed the file drawer, gently reached up and took a hold of my face, and screamed at me, “What the hell are you doing?”

I explained my plight, that I searched for my writing partner and that I felt guilty for not noticing his departure. The domestic CEO patted my cheek and smiled at me.

“Oh, that,” she said. “I put it in the garage with the other Halloween decorations.”

She turned and walked away leaving me staring aghast after her.

Relief washed over me as I realized Nabu was safe. However, the task of finding him among the myriad of decoration boxes would not be easy. Uh oh! He had been missing for months. My feeble excuse would not fly. Ah, a new idea came to me. The domestic CEO had aged another year, taking her into the realm of geezerhood. She had placed him in the decoration boxes. I would tell Nabu that her mind is going and she had forgotten what she did and where she had placed him. Yes, yes, that just might work.

I will head to the garage this weekend to release my partner. I hope he buys my story.

 
6 Comments

Posted by on January 20, 2014 in Other Strangeness

 

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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!

 
14 Comments

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

 

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