Another Stop on the Blog Tour

By Keith Fisher

It’s my honor to review Tristi Pinkston’s new book, Season of Sacrifice, but first I need to make an announcement:

I’ve been asked to blog for the YourLDSNeighborhood.com site. I will be blogging twice a week on the subject of outdoor and camp cooking, with emphasis on Dutch oven and cast iron.

A few years ago, a major cast iron cookware manufacturer said there are more Dutch ovens sold within three hundred miles of Salt Lake City than anywhere else in the world. Don’t you wonder why here, instead of somewhere else? where are those Dutch ovens?

I think a lot of them are being stored with all the seasonal and camping equipment. They get hauled out to warm up cans of stew or chili on the deer hunt. A few get used to make biscuits while camping, but I believe the majority are still in the box in food storage lockers, waiting for the day when the power goes out and the gas gets shut off.

There’s nothing wrong with that, but wouldn’t it be easier if you were already familiar with your cooking appliance? In the blog, I hope to show you how to use your Dutch oven and enjoy the smiles on the faces of your guests and campmates. In the process we may learn some things about throwing back yard and block parties that will make you a legend.

I love to cook outdoors and I hope to transplant that love into your hearts. Stop by often. Put your feet up, dinners ready. http://www.yourldsneighborhood.com/ http://thecampcookinyourbackyard.blogspot.com/

Now for the book . . .

I’m not sure how it happened, but Nichole and I decided to split Tristi’s blog tour between us. I am going to review the book today. Nichole is planning to interview her on Thursday. I’m having second thoughts now. I think I’d rather ask the questions . . . just kidding. It really is an honor.

In an effort to avoid a corrupted opinion I haven’t read the other reviews, so if I repeat something already said, please forgive me.

You may have heard that Season of Sacrifice is a work of historical fiction about the Hole in the Rock pioneers. Tristi used family history, historical research, and gut feelings, to tell this poignant story of her ancestors and their part in a historical event. It’s the story of Benjamin Perkins and his wife Mary Ann Williams, but it’s really a story about Sarah Williams, Mary Ann’s sister and Benjamin’s second wife.

Polygamy was, and is, a hard issue. I think Tristi should be commended for the truthful and respectable way she wrote those parts.

As I read the story, I began to feel a common bond. Some of my ancestors were neighbors with Tristi’s in Wales. They were coal miners too. The Perkins’ were called to settle in San Juan. My ancestors came from Wales by way of Yorkshire England to Utah, and were called to help settle Southern Alberta, Canada.

Also, my wife is a direct descendant one of the sisters who married John Rowley. You must read the book to know what I’m talking about. Find a copy at http://www.tristipinkston.com/books.htm

In my family history collection, I have many books written by relatives that attempt to tell the stories of my ancestors. None of them do it the way Tristi has. Her talent of writing is certainly a blessing for her ancestors.

Good luck with your writing—see you next week.

The Dead Authors Society

By Keith Fisher

There is a popular movie from 1989 staring Robin Williams called Dead Poets Society. It is a heart wrenching story about a group of boarding school students learning about life through appreciation of the great poets. Using that premise, I’d like to start a Dead Authors society. Like the movie, we could meet once a week (probably online) and discuss something (good or bad) we found in an old book. Maybe I’ll start a new blog—I’ll let you know.

I’m almost ashamed to admit it, but I avoided reading the classics in high school. Of course, I also avoided most of my homework in those days, I read Tom Sawyer and Future Shock, but I missed out on Moby Dick, Grapes of Wrath, and others.

To make up for my ignorance, I’ve been reading classics mingled among the other things I must read. I discovered an interesting thing while reading the Great Gatsby the other day. Although there is a good message and the book is a great treatise of the jazz age, F. Scott Fitzgerald filled it with flowery descriptions that probably earned him high praise in his day. Now he is dead, it’s time to take a look at his work under the desk lamp, and analyze it against the fiction of today.

One of my pet peeves is when I read a book written within the last twenty years and find the author committed one of the unforgivable sins. I constantly criticize myself for committing these sins because I know if I don’t change things like weak plot, POV shifts, and too much description, my book won’t be published. So, I’m left wondering how the book in question got published because it’s so much harder for us today.

Here I am, reading a classic—a book that is supposed to be an example of good writing—and those same feelings crop up. How did this guy get published? To be fair, I enjoyed the descriptions. Fitzgerald’s metaphors and similes are fantastic. I may write down many of them for future blogs, but does Gatsby hold the attention of a modern reader?

To be honest, if I wasn’t listening on my MP3 player at work, I might not have ever finished the book. Readers have such a short attention span today, a book must be near perfect to survive. An author cannot allow a reader to set a book down, or it won’t be picked up again. I’m afraid the classics would never hold up under the standards of today’s market. My friend thinks they would, but with all the rules for hooks in the first paragraph, etc, I still think my editor would find many wrong things.

So, high school students hate to read those books, while English teachers point to them as examples of great literature. It’s no wonder that many students quit reading after high school. Lest I give you the wrong impression, I must say it was hard to write during those times also. Readers took more time reading, and they scrutinized the prose. They held a paragraph in their mind for days, twisting it over, marveling at the symmetry.

But, my twenty-first century mind keeps trying to rush the author. It says, "Get to point already—I haven’t got all day." I found the classics are better if someone reads them to me. Don’t you love the way the narrator speaks in Dickens’ A Christmas Carol? I love to listen to it again and again. Words were not taken for granted in those days. But when I read it, I skip over those words in order to get to the meat of the story. Perhaps if we make high school kids listen to the story they might enjoy it more, but then, how would they learn to read?

Since I haven’t made any real point here, you might wonder which side I’m on. Like any good editor, I must offer praise as well as criticism. I hope we all learn to savor classical prose. It may be a better example of good writing than the entertaining stories we write today, but it would never make it on the best seller list. That’s okay though, most of the classics already had their day in the sun.

Good luck with your writing—see you next week.

Writing Out of Time and Place

By Keith Fisher

While thinking about what I want to share with you this week, I analyzed my activities for last week. I hoped to find a lesson I’d learned that would help you in your quest to be published in the LDS market.

It was a busy week. I wonder how I survived. My wife and I cooked in Dutch ovens for the whole fourth grade, teachers, and parents as part of the Utah History unit. We made about six gallons of beef stew, six cobblers, and five 14-inch diameter cornbreads. There were 130 people, and I’m still sore from all the hard work.

Of course I learned a few lessons at the LUW spring workshop on Saturday, but my friend is going to blog about that and I don’t want to compete.

I think the big lesson for this week occurred to me in my critique group. I learned about perspective.

How many of you remember bench seats in cars? Did you know that bucket seats used to be a luxury? Unless your car was a sports car, bucket seats had to be ordered special. It never occurred to me that my readers might not know that, when I had a character slide next to my protagonist and put her arm around him. "What is she sitting on?" was the question someone asked.

Later in the week, I asked a friend to review a short piece for me and it became painfully clear that my frame of reference came from events that happened before she was born, therefore she didn’t understand my point.

I realized my writing should be tailored to the understanding of everyone. I must never assume that everyone understands. I don’t have the figures, but I bet that more than half the population has never heard a vinyl record played, or even seen one. (What’s a vinyl record? Ask your grandparents.)

I was listening to MP3’s at work today and realized I was rocking out to music that was recorded ten years before most of my co-workers were born. Yes, I feel old, but more to the point, I can’t write about Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band without explaining who they were. Or talk about Gerald Ford without bringing up Richard Nixon. Time seems to forget impotant connections and events which will be forgotten in future generations.

Before any of you youngsters start feeling superior because your language and references are cutting edge, I have some questions for you: What will happen to the colorful expressions of today? Will anyone understand them in ten years—what about twenty? Chances are, very few people will remember Hannah Montana, or understand why her concerts sold out so fast. If we want our books to survive through the generations, perhaps we should consider our words carefully. Or at least watch out for dated material.

Good luck in your writing—see you next week.

Hook, Line, and Sinker

By Keith Fisher

It’s time to dust off my tackle box and head out to my favorite fishing hole. Unlike today, when I was a kid, there was a fishing season in Utah. My family always got together for the season opener. I remember waking up before daylight so we could be the first ones in our spot. We clearly should’ve been granted squatter’s rights, or at least first cast into the lake.

The number of anglers lining the shore on opening day rivaled the number of those waiting in line on the day after Thanksgiving these days. Well, it wasn’t that bad, but in those days, it wasn’t uncommon to never see another angler all day. So we were shocked to see another person within fifty yards on the opening, and everyone competed for the same spots. The rules were clear—the first people out got the best spots and therefore caught the most fish.

In order to catch anything, I learned to tailor my tackle to make it appealing, and fishing for different species required different tackle. Since I was a kid, prone to line tangles—fishing for trout from the bank at our favorite reservoir—I required a certain kind of rig. My dad started with a bubble for weight, then a swivel to keep the bubble from sliding off. He tied a hook on the end of a leader and a loop at the other end. Next he’d clip the leader into the swivel. I’d fill the bubble with water, bait my hook, and cast in.

When I got older, I noticed that Dad used two hooks tied at different ends of the leader. The loop was tied between so each hook hung at different levels. This gave him the advantage of multiple kinds of bait, and increasing his chances of catching fish. I wasn’t allowed two hooks because I was, well, as I said above, prone to tangles.

In my dad’s tackle box, there were many kinds and sizes of hooks. Different hooks for different reasons. The key to catching fish was in choosing the right hook for the type of fish and the location.

One time as a Boy Scout, I got bored fishing for Pike below the dam at Yuba Reservoir. I noticed the Perch came up next to the shore. I dropped my hook in the middle of them and immediately caught one. Now, you should know, Perch in those days were trash fish. They are considered to be delicious now, but old prejudices diehard. Anyway, somehow I noticed that if I dropped a bare hook in the water, the Perch would take it, and hook themselves. It was easy, and we had great fun feeding the Perch to the Seagulls.

Now, I’m passing the legacy on to my daughter and I don’t have to wait for the season, but I learned something this week. I attended the League of Utah Writers meeting in Provo where Jeffrey S. Savage (J. Scott Savage) taught about hooks in query letters. I had a rare moment of clarity, and began to think of metaphors and similes. I decided to share a few with you.

As writers, we are fishermen. We submit our manuscripts, hoping to catch the eye of publishers. There are different kinds of publishers just like there are different kinds of fish. The hook we use depends on who we are submitting to and what kind of bait we have. With any luck we will catch a publisher and land a book contract.

In workshops and conferences, we’re taught the value of a good hook. As in fishing, we’re only as good as our tackle. Unlike the perch I caught with a bare hook, a publisher isn’t liable to bite a hook that isn’t appealing. So we need to use bait that will entice and lure someone to read our manuscript. We must write a first paragraph that will make the reader want more. We must write the second paragraph so they will continue. But first we must get them to read the first paragraph.

We do this by baiting the hook in our query in a way that explains the story, but more than that, it must be enticing, it must make the publisher want to look at the first paragraph.

Jeff talked about four elements to look for in a query and explained why they are important:

1. Who is your protagonist?
   You must decide so your readers will have someone to care about.
2. What is your protagonist’s noble, goal?
   What must be accomplished? What is driving him/her to the end?
3. What stands in the way of reaching the goal?
   What major obstacles stand in the way of number two?
4. What happens if the protagonist fails?
   It has to be dire circumstances. There has to be a real consequence.

If the answers to these questions are sufficiently intriguing, your query will be noticed. You can also use these questions when plotting your next book. If you can dream up great answers, you may have the beginnings of a best seller.

Good luck in your writing and your fishing (submitting)—see you next week.

Warning! Graphic Images!

By Keith Fisher

It’s been six weeks since my wife was awakened early in the morning by our nervous cat. She needed a midwife, the cat . . . not my wife. Anyway, it was a Sunday morning and we ended up being late for church. It was a magical event for our family, but by the time the sixth kitten was born it was pretty monotonous. The cat wasn’t very thrilled either.

My daughter started naming the kittens almost as fast as they were born. "Don’t do that," I said. "We’re going to have to give them away . . . what’s that? No, we’re not keeping just one."

Well, as I said, it’s been six weeks . . .

When the cat got, uh, in the family way (this is a family blog), my daughter assured me some kids at school most definitely had permission . . . well, you know where this is going. Does anybody want a kitten?

Okay, to be fair, I won’t tell you how cute they are, or how they purr when you stroke their fur. I won’t even tell you they all have blue eyes like their mother. On second thought . . . I will tell you, they all have cute meows that’ll melt your heart.

Did I mention it’s been six weeks?

You’re probably wondering what all this has to do with writing. Well . . . I’m shameless. I’m going to have a literature contest and, anyone . . . well, everyone who gives me the correct answer gets a kitten. But you better hurry. I only have six.

Did I mention it’s been six weeks?

Okay here's the question . . . what is the name of our blogck . . . uh, I mean blog . . . what’s that? You want a harder question? Darn. Okay . . . who is your favorite author and why?

Now, there you have it. Leave your answer in the comment trail and tell me where in Utah County you want to meet your new kitten. Oh so cute . . . just look at the pictures. Provide the right answer and you’ll be happily stroking the fur on your new kitten. Did I mention it’s been six weeks?

Good luck in your writing—see you next week.

Just Fifteen Seconds

By Keith Fisher

Before we get started talking about whatever the subject for today’s blog is, I want to take a minute and tell you about the great marketing program J. Scott Savage is using. It’s called a blog tour and he has asked all those bloggers who are interested, to sign up for an advance copy of his new book. All you have to do is promise to blog about it. I told him I would help out, so be looking for my humble opinion. The book is called Farworld and you can sign up at http://jscottsavage.blogspot.com/2008/04/marketing-part-ivthe-blog-tour.html

Now on to other things:

In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes. Millions have quoted this statement, made by Andy Warhol, in 1968. Many people look to this statement with hope, thinking they will someday, be granted fifteen minutes of their own. Consequently, we tend to joke when we see someone posing for news cameras or when we see the crowds outside the studio of the Today Show in New York.

With increased population and thus fewer chances, it seems the estimate has changed to fifteen seconds. Because of our origins, we believe mankind was destined for greatness, but most of us would be happy to simply be remembered when we’re gone. Sometimes our fifteen seconds can be hard to grasp.

In my life I have been blessed with many fifteen seconds of fame, starting with my baby blessing, baptism, priesthood ordinations, missionary farewell, and homecoming. My wife and I were blessed to win The World Championship Dutch oven Cookoff and I was interviewed on television. I have had my picture in the paper many times, been interviewed on the radio, and even had an editorial published.

All of these things have added joy to my life, but none of it compares to the fifteen seconds when I will hold a printed copy of my first book and realize people are actually going to be able to read the thing. It will be joy beyond compare to run my fingers over the spine and know it wouldn’t be possible without all the help I’ve received throughout my life.

I am so happy to see my good friends get their books published. They deserve it—they have helped me along the way. I can think of no greater joy than to see one those friends receive an award for their work and to know what has gone into it. I hope that in some small way, I will have had a part in helping them. Then I will have been blessed with another fifteen seconds, but the fame will be in the hearts of my friends.

Good luck in your writing—see you next week.

Getting a Flat Tire on the Information Highway

By Keith Fisher

Is it really Saturday? It can’t be! I'm not ready.

Did you ever have one of those weeks when you had too much to do and not enough week left to do it in? To top it off, I went online last night with two computers. I was attempting to get tickets for the Miley Cyrus concert at Stadium of Fire . . .

I felt like I was giving a dog a bath. I’m not talking about a nice, well-trained dog, the kind that loves baths. I’m talking about the independent happy go lucky dogs that won’t stay in the tub. If you ever try it, I recommend old clothes or a swimming suit, because you’re going to get wet.

To add insult to injury, I also went online yesterday to apply for a job. We live in an unusual time in the world. It’s a time when we don’t need to see anyone. We can talk to people, work with people, even date people, and we never have to leave the privacy of our home. It’s all very convenient, but I miss pounding the pavement dropping off resumés. Even when we had to physically stand in line to get tickets, at least we knew where we stood. We could see how far back in line we were.

The application was rejected, well, it was accepted, but some electronic gremlin told the system that according to my application, I wasn’t qualified for the job. How does it know? I guess I checked the wrong box, but then again, how am I supposed to find out? It's not like I can talk to a real person to discover the problem.

So, were you wondering what happened with the tickets?

I made it all the way through and gave my credit card number. When I clicked the button to finish, an error message popped up telling me something about my email address. While I went back over the form looking for the problem, another message popped up telling me my tickets were no longer available. Can you imagine my frustration? I slammed my fist down on my desk and almost made it collapse. Then I hit it again. I spent the next forty-five minutes trying to get back in, but it told me the tickets weren’t available.

I have been, and still am, a huge advocate of the information age. I was messing with computers at the end of the seventies and early eighties. But sometimes I wonder if we are losing something in our lives.

We even have online critique groups to help us with our writing. What a great service, but I’ve been involved in another, more personal group lately. Oh how nice it is to touch a paper manuscript. To read out loud and use a red pen. To talk to real people and find they have the same problems with writing I do. Above all, to get support. And if I get something wrong, I can find out what it is. All I have to do is ask.

Good luck with your writing—see you next week.