Tagged

I feel honored to be tagged for this one. It seems to lean a bit toward the femine so I didn't think I would be tagged. I was tagged by my good friend, Nichole for the camp cooking blog and by my other good friend, Kim for the ldswritersblogck. This is going to be fun.

1. My Kitchen sink.

You should know I'm outdoors a lot. this is where I wash my dishes while camping or cooking Dutch oven.

2. inside my fridge

We were cooking for a large group

3. My favorite shoes
I have three. one for church, one for everyday, and one to mow the lawn. I have boots also, but you asked for my favorites.

4. my closet
You didn't expect to see my clothes did you. this is my favorite closet . . . in the carport.

5. My laundry pile

The hamper in the bedroom, and no, they're not all my clothes

6. What my kids are doing now.here are two, The other one must have been out chasing a mouse or something

7. My favorite room . . . I have three.

My three favorites are; my camp trailer, front porch and home office. All of which are my favorite writing place.

8. My most recent purchase

An extention cord to plug my computer into a cigarette lighter. So I can write in my trailer. unfortunately I can't get enough power.

9. Fantasy Vacation:

This is Josi Killpack I love her office, but I can write anywhere and I prefer a mountain cabin with all the ameneties.

I also like the Hot Tub Idea on Kim's blog:
Then there is the sublime:

10 Self portrait
Just kidding
Isn't it scary? I keep wondering who the old guy is. Hope you had fun looking into my private life. Keep in mind it isn't really like this. I can't remember who has been tagged for this so If you wnat to do it feel free. For now, I'm going to Tag C.L. beck, Darvell Hunt, and C. Loreen Hall.

Good luck guys. It really is fun. but if you decide not to do it. Thats okay, I understand completely.

Beats Me Up

By Keith Fisher

I'm sorry for the late hour, but I just got back from fishing.

Recently, at critique group . . . well, let me go back. When I first began to write seriously, I wrote stories with more exposition. I read a few books that told me to use more dialogue. Then I learned not to use so many attributions. Also, having a lot of blank, white space on a page was a good thing because the reader can read it quickly.

After attending a conference I knew I should avoid talking heads so I used meaningful dialogue. Stuff that had meat in it, none of the:

"Nice weather today."
"Yes it is."
"What are you going to do today?"
"Don’t know—what about you?"

To be fair, I didn’t use that kind of dialogue anyway.

Then someone pointed out I need more beats, and I started to add them, and add them, and add them. Then at critique the other day, you guessed it, too many beats. I was devastated. I came home and pulled the books out. I studied everything I could, trying to figure out where I went wrong. I knew my dialogue was lacking because I’d been reading it. I added the beats to show what my characters were doing. Then I realized there is a fine line.

According to Self Editing for Fiction Writers by Renni Browne and Dave King:

Beats are little bits of action interspersed through a scene, such as a character walking to a window or removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes—the literary equivalent of what is known in the theater as stage business. Usually they involve physical gestures, although short passages of interior monologue can also be considered a sort of internal beat. Pg. 102

The line between perfect dialogue and drivel is fine, but it can be felt. When you read what you wrote and it sounds like mechanical clickity-click-clack, it needs more beats. If it sounds like you are saying, said too much, lose some of the attributions. The fine blend of beats and attributions can be heard when reading aloud. Like a musician can hear when a string is out of tune, writers and readers can hear when dialogue is out of tune.

I am learning to stay away from attributions. I’ve removed them almost entirely. I use beats instead, but I use them only when the reader can’t tell who is speaking or when the conversation becomes too mechanical. I’m learning to use beats like playing my guitar. I can feel when a string gets slightly out of tune, and I’m becoming a better writer.

Good luck with your writing—see you next week.

Night Stalkers

By Keith Fisher

She only had a minute and she’d used thirty seconds already. She pushed the button to start the timer knowing she wouldn’t have enough time to get clear of the blast . . .

I’ve been heavily involved in edits lately. I haven’t been able to think of anything else for two weeks. The edits have begun to invade my dreams. When I dream at night, I outline. My characters always solicit my attention, but they get it when I’m sleeping. The other day, however . . .

I was dreaming normal stuff. Something to do with my last job and being under pressure. The ever present plot to eliminate my boss. Then without warning, people I know from my real life turned into mythical beings. They were themselves, but my friends had turned into centaurs and elves, people like that.

Now, I wouldn’t mind, but as I’ve mentioned before, I don’t write fantasy. The world my mind created was completely out of character for me. Now you might think that since I’ve been reading Farworld by J. Scott Savage, that’s where my mind conjured the images from, but I had to set aside Farworld last week. I’m back reading it again, but the point is I wasn’t reading it at the time. Therefore, it wouldn’t have much influence over my dreams.

No, the world in my dream came from the far recesses of my mind. From a place I don’t like to think about. The good news though, we killed the dragon. I’m not going to tell you who the dragon was, but suffice it to say, I won’t be having trouble with that authority figure anymore.

Things are pretty much back to normal. If normal is spending all my non-job related time editing. My dreams, (when I have time to sleep) have also gone back to normal. But like all good dreams, I wrote that one down too. I’m positive I’ll never try to delve into the world of a fantasy writer. I have enough nightmares about normal people. I couldn’t deal with dreams about alternate worlds.

The point, if you missed it, is to write down your dreams. I have several first drafts written from something I dreamed, including, the hook I used in the first lines of this blog. Someday I’ll get that story written, but for now, I’ve got edits to do.

Good luck in your writing—see you next week.

232 Years and Counting

By Keith Fisher

It was a hot July day. The debate in the chamber had been going on for sometime. Finally, there was compromise and the representatives signed the declaration. There would be a price to pay for their insolence, some said the price had already been paid.

Today, I sit back in my "easy chair" of American freedom with a grateful eye on those who were so blessed to receive divine help against all odds to accomplish the impossible. To those who suffered to establish this great freedom that I enjoy I say, thank you.

To those who would destroy it because of selfish desires and great pride I say, shame on you. I pray everyday that our leaders will put aside agendas and party lines in order to listen to the same divine inspiration that established our great nation.

I trust your holiday brought joy although I suspect it was somewhat wilted in the heat. I hope you were able to pause and reflect on 232 years.

I went camping this weekend and I spent time listening to the chorus of birds making music before the sun came up in the morning. It was beautiful but I had to turn my attention back to editing. I’m on a deadline and must trudge forward.

I have been reading my ARC copy of the first book in the Farworld series by J. Scott Savage. Love the book and the author’s talent. I will be stepping into the author’s scary lair soon, to interview him and review the book, which will be available in September.

Good luck in your writing, see you next week.

Walking the Line

By Keith Fisher

Her family was going fishing. Oh, how she wanted to go too. She pulled a floppy hat onto her youngest son and made sure he promised to stay away from the lake. She kissed her husband good-bye and turned to go back to her self-imposed exile. She wondered what she ever did to deserve such an understanding family.

When she sat in her chair, she glanced at the framed letter she’d placed on her desk after her first book was published. The hand-written note explained how the fan’s life had been changed after reading her book.

"That’s why I do it," she said. "That’s why I put up with deadlines."

How was your week? It seemed that no matter what I did, I was behind. I published my Monday blog late, barely finished my chapter before critique group, and published my Friday blog late too. Now here I am, It’s Saturday morning, and I’m late again. If I didn’t have deadlines, I might never get anything done.

Lately, I’ve been listening to some of my friends who submitted three chapters and then had to finish the book when the publisher wanted to see the rest. The deadline they imposed stretched their talent and helped them grow.

The point is all writers are going to have a deadline at one time or another in their career. It’s a given, but it can be a good thing. Deadlines take us out of our comfort zone. We emerge from the refiner’s fire, a better writer. We develop habits that will help us throughout our career.

For our edification I looked up deadline in Wikipedia. I copied and pasted the results. You might find it interesting:

The context of a due date originated in journalism, probably from an earlier usage in printing, representing a guideline marked on a plate for a printing press (inside which all content should appear). According to the Oxford English Dictionary, early usage refers simply to lines that do not move, such as one used in angling; slightly later American usage includes a boundary around a prison which prisoners must not cross

The second definition is the one I’m going with. Imagine the hallway outside of your writing space as the deadline. Now, if you step outside of your writing space, the guards will open fire with a machine gun. You’d be cut to ribbons.

Does that help? Remember the Berlin wall? In other places in East Germany it was a 12-15 feet high fence. On either side of the fence, they had cleared the vegetation for several yards. Even if you got over the fence, you still had to cross the demarcation, or deadline.

So as you struggle with writer’s block, imagine the deadline outside of your writing space. Plot your escape, make plans, then stop and realize you are drafting a story in your mind. "Aha," you say.

You see? Deadlines can be a good thing. If you’re currently laboring under a deadline let me say, I’m sorry. Then let me tell you, congratulations—you have cleared the fence—someone wants your work—you’re about to grow. When you stop to catch your breath in the trees, just beyond the cleared space, remember me. Now you’re free to walk and enjoy the journey. I will still be struggling to get over the deadline.

Good luck with your writing—see you next week.

Hidden Vistas

By Keith Fisher

I opened my eyes and beheld one of the most spectacular sunsets I’ve seen . . .

Because of working nights, I often miss out on needed sleep. I was trying to catch up on some of that sleep the other day when my eyes popped open. It was like my mind knew what my eyes didn’t, and it showed me a beautiful sunset just outside my bedroom window.

Streaked with red and orange, and set against the dark blue of the sky, the clouds were really only wisps, but the centers held a deep purple hue. It was beautiful, and I was impressed. I watched for a moment, but I needed the sleep so I closed my eyes again.

A few moments later, curiosity opened my eyes again. By now, the colors were fading, the sun had fallen farther away, beyond the mountains. I looked again after a few minutes, and found the sun had set—the world had returned to normal.

I closed my eyes and pondered the metaphor. As writers we spend hours learning our craft. We learn about hooks and sentences, self-promotion and marketing. We often overlook the beauty that lies just before our eyes. The drama, waiting to be described and preserved in our memories, and written on the page.

Much of life is spent collecting memories, little snippets of time we can draw from to give our characters depth. How many of us trudge through our busy lives in too much of a hurry to see what lies before our eyes, if only we would open them. Like my sunset, things happen, people do things, there is beauty. If my mind hadn’t shown me what my eyes refused to see, I would have missed the sunset. Good luck in your writing and observation—see you next week.

P.S. In the comments section of my blog last week Annette Lyon said:

I take it that the Dead Authors Society doesn't include only dead authors, then? I love Ray Bradbury. It'll be a sad day when he dies, and that day can't be too far off, because he's getting up there in age.

Yes, you are right, Annette. Thanks for noting that Ray Bradbury is alive and publishing. His new book, Now And Forever, looks very interesting. Maybe I should pull Bradbury from the list of the Dead Authors Society, I included Farenheit 451 because it was required reading in High school and I weaseled my way out of reading it.

Three Subjects

By Keith Fisher

Yes, I thought it was great too. Since everyone else has already talked about the CFI 6-7-8 conference, there’s not much else I can say. I would like to add my thanks, however, and kudos to the staff at CFI for the hard work. About the only way it could’ve been better would be for CFI to send us on an all expenses paid trip :). Life is good and thanks to Eloise Owens for helping me remember there is a bigger wave.

On another subject, I brought my 10-year old daughter to critique group this week. She came to play with the host’s kids, but they had something else come up. My daughter decided to sit in with us, and since we were missing one member, we gave my ten-year old copies of our chapters.

She followed along with us and made comments on the manuscripts. I’m told she caught some things we didn’t see, but she was too shy to talk about it. I asked her how she liked critique. She said she really liked Nichole’s new book.

I’ve got to tell you I’m impressed. First that my daughter has a working knowledge of what makes good writing, and second; Nichole’s new YA fantasy holds her attention. I have told my daughter she can’t see the new Narnia movie until she reads the book first—she chooses not to—which gives you an idea of how good Nichole’s new book is going to be.

What can I say? I’m a proud father, but it occurs to me that our next generation will be wonderful writers. I hope they choose to be.

Now onto the third matter, I’ve been posting entries that I call The Dead Authors Society. This week I was planning to start A tale of Two Cities, but I put it aside because of prior reading commitments. I still haven’t gotten to Frankenstien by Mary Shelly, Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury is waiting in the wings, and there is still Moby Dick.

I’ve seen summer reading lists posted on other blogs and it occurred to me, I could do the same thing with my old classics. You can read along and we can talk about them. I’m going to compile my list, but for now, look above.

I did want to note, however, that even though much of what he wrote is not politically correct by today’s standards, I admire Mark Twain. In Huckleberry Finn, he dealt with the slavery question at a time when his opinions might have gotten him hanged. He did it through the eyes of young white boy and the message is still poignant today. Even though the language is hard to read sometimes, Huckleberry Finn is a good read.

Good luck in your writing—see you next week.