LET YOUR CHARACTERS LIVE THROUGH YOU ~ BY RITA KARNOPP

To create exciting strong scenes – make sure they vary from quiet to loud.  Lackluster to exciting.  Emotional to in-control.  Highs to lows.  Happy to sad.  Yet, they all must fit together like pieces of a puzzle.  Everything should snap into place and fit – nothing should stick out at odd angles.  Every part of the story should contribute and move the story forward, making it complete.

I don’t know about you, but I like to put myself in my character’s body, living the scene with his/her baggage, experience, flaws, and attributes.  Do the situations or challenges feel ‘real’?  What doesn’t feel believable?  You will know what needs changing by running your scenes through your mind like a movie – you are the character – living, breathing, and experiencing each scene you’ve created. 

You’ll find yourself rewriting - adding spontaneity from the character you’ve become.  You’ll make changes that transition the story better.  Step-by-step, you’ll feel, hear, touch, taste, and see yourself in the scenes of your character.  Do you believe them?  Did you miss any of the senses?  Add them in and you’ll be surprised how this will improve your story. 

If a scene feels confusing or uncomfortable – fix them.  Never leave them in hopes the reader won’t notice – believe me, they will.  Add deep internal emotion and allow your characters to have flaws that hinder their goals . . . making them realize they must change to have what they need or want by the end of the book.

You should laugh, cry, and get angry if that’s what the character experiences.  If the words you’ve written don’t evoke the emotion or reaction you want . . . rewrite . . . rewrite . . . and rewrite until you find yourself crying . . . laughing . . . and ticked with the world if need be.  If you don’t feel it when you write it – the reader won’t feel it when they read it.  It’s as simple as that.

Grab your reader right from the beginning . . . and don’t let go until you type ‘the end.’ 

 

Whispering Wind ~ Montana Territory 1865 – Pregnant and alone, Tsopo, Wind, leaves her Blackfoot people to save her lifelong friend, Kom-zit-api, An Honest Man, from untrue accusations.

Kom-zit-api finds Wind and asks her to be his sits-beside-him wife.  Before she can give him an answer, he dies saving her from Crow warriors.  Trapper, Jake McKinney hears her cries and finds her down on a ledge, birthing a child that has arrived too soon.  Now Wind finds herself at a crossroads. 

Ashamed and confused, she accepts McKinney’s offer to go with him to the Big Belt Mountains, where his Confederate war buddies are prospecting for gold.

They meet brothers, Tucker and Alexander Walsh on the trail.  McKinney, with his valuable bales of furs and buffalo robes, and the Walsh brothers, with their four wagons of supplies, strike a partnership.  They’ll start up a general store for miners on the east side of the Missouri River near Diamond City. 

Wind reveals possession of a gold nugget the size of her thumb. Her father gave it to her, and she knows where in Confederate Gulch it was found.  The men make her an equal partner in their business they are now calling Whispering Wind.

Nothing like her peaceful village, Wind finds herself among ramshackle clusters of tents, lean-tos, and crude log cabins.  The main street is a knee-deep mud trail mixed with horse manure, lined with make-shift stores, hotels, rowdy saloons, and a single assayer’s office.  Wind aspires to find love and happiness where greed rules actions above common sense.  Dressed like a white woman, hiding her part Blackfeet blood, she faces being one of a few women in a wild, lawless mining territory.  Who can she trust? Can she survive where so many men have failed?

Watch for Rita Karnopp’s next book ~ Whispering Spirits

Summer Timber Wolf, Nii’ówa Ómahkapi'si, is disenchanted with life in general.  Ashamed of being Blackfeet, yet broke and alone, she goes to Browning, the Blackfeet Reservation in Montana she swore she’d never return to or call home.    

Angry with her decision to quit college, her parents give her the task of caring for her eighty-year-old grandmother, Kimi’Aki, Secret Woman.  It sounds like an easy alternative to getting a job. 

By the time Summer realizes this means she’ll be living in the mountains in the ways of the old ones, in a tipi, with no more modern support greater than a boiling pot, it’s too late to go back.

In this primitive setting she realizes there’s more to being Blackfeet than just being called Indian.  Although she fights anything to do with her ancestry, she is quickly caught up in a world of whispering spirits and a journey that teaches we must understand and find pride in where we’ve come from . . . in order to know where we’re going. 

Multi-published author Rita Karnopp knew at a very young age she wanted to be a writer – and penned her first story at age sixteen. She is drawn to the history of the Native American and strives to bring alive the authenticity of a time past. Whether writing suspense, Indian historicals, or contemporary romance, Rita enjoys bringing excitement and the enduring power of love to her stories.

Rita currently resides in Montana with her husband and their loveable Cockapoo named Gema. When she isn’t reading, writing or doing research, Rita enjoys making dream catchers, gold panning, crystal or sapphire digging, rafting, fishing, canoeing, and spending time with her children and grandchildren.

Also find Rita at:
Website: http://ritakarnopp.com
Facebook: rita.karnopp@facebook.comBlog: http://mizging.blogspot.com/
Contact her at:    ritakarnopp@bresnan.net

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Cup runneth Over

Today is our anniversary. My husband woke me up early whispering, "Come here quick." He was standing in the doorway of the family room looking at the suction cup bird feeder we put up last winter. Two grosbeaks were trying, unsuccessfully, to get at the seeds. Sadly, the birds were too big. The last time we had grosbeaks in the yard was the year Mt. St. Helen blew, and that spring we had a yard full. Grosbeaks might visit a yard if black oil sunflower seeds are available but, then again, they might not. The sunflower seeds sell in 20 pound bags here and if the birds don't come, what are you going to do with all those seeds? We are debating the pros and cons. My husband and I enjoy many little things such as what birds are in the feeder, and have learned many things from each other. He has taught me war history and how to appreciate country and bluegrass music and how to spot game tracks. I have taught him about Russian history and different kinds of flowers, and moss--a specialty of mine. Together we try to identify birds or find out where the ships in the harbor are from. We talk to people in restaurants or in line at the grocery store or even the homeless.We have learned the words for hello in Korean, Russian, Spanish and Laotian and the emigrants we encounter are so pleased that we care enough to have learned. Everyday is made up of many little things that fill us to overflowing. When people ask me, what's new, it's hard to explain how exciting it is to see animal tracks in the snow or bird tracks in the sand on Commencement Bay or about the elusive peacock who plays hide-and-seek in the neighborhood. These are the sorts of things I try to include in my writing.

My Favorite Things - by Cheryl Wright

As an author, I feel somewhat creative. I get to write books, the sorts of books I love to read.

I have been published since 2003, but the thrill of having something published - whether that's an article, a short story, or a novel - never leaves me.

My latest novel Don't Tell, Don't Die was published on April 21, and it was absolutely breathtaking knowing that once again one of my 'babies' was out in the wild yonder. (Also known as the world.)

I've known for many years that I was what others considered 'a creative'. I have always dabbled in art, as well as playing various musical instruments. Except for the guitar, I played most in a mediocre manner. The guitar was always my favorite, although I admit to not having touched it for a few years. (Note to self: start playing guitar again!)

Apart from writing, my most favorite thing to do is make greeting cards. It's been my hobby for about fourteen years now, and I'd like to think that I'm improving as time goes by.

In an average month, I would make around 30-40 cards, making at least one a day. Cardmaking is my way of unwinding after a long or stressful day.

Most of the cards I make are donated to various community groups, including an oncology ward at a local hospital. These are all thank you cards, and are for the patients to give friends and family who have helped during their cancer treatment. It's a small gesture on my part, but means a lot to the patients, and the recipients.

I also make cards for the soldiers overseas. These are for a variety of celebrations including birthdays, Mother's Day, Christmas, Valentine's Day, Father's Day.

In addition, I create cards as a fundraiser for a foodbank where my daughter is volunteer manager.  The sale of the cards - at their related second-hand shop - raises money so additional food can be purchased and given to families in need.

One thing I've tried to do over the years teach others the skills I've learned over a long period of time. I have three of my six grandchildren living with me, and two of them are teenage girls. Both have shown interest over the years, and both have won awards for their cards. They have also made and donated cards for the above purposes.

It's a wonderful feeling knowing you can pass on your skills, and know those skills are helping the wider community.

The cards I make range from very basic (as can be seen above), to  more complex (like the one shown below).

I hope you have enjoyed reading a little about me and my hobby.

p.s. Looking for a quick read? Check out my novella, A Winter Sabbatical.

Links:

My website:  www.cheryl-wright.com 
Blog:  www.cheryl-wright.com/blog
Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/cherylwrightauthor

Make sure you join my Facebook page as I run regular giveaways for followers!

kboards: "The Deepest Dark," by Joan Hall Hovey

kboards: "The Deepest Dark," by Joan Hall Hovey: Fans of novelist Joan Hall Hovey -- known as "Canada's Mistress of Suspense" and "a female Stephen King" -- will be ...

Have You Entered BWL's Father's Day Contest?

Running now through June 14
One winner will receive this Chocolate Tower

 

Another will receive his or her choice of Five Books We Love eBooks





Enter once a week through June 14
Winners announced in June 15 newsletter


Make sure you are a subscriber to our newsletter- only subscribers can win. The newsletter comes out once a month, no spam, just new releases and contest news. Find the form here.

"So Glad He's Your Dad" 

Father's Day Contest from Books We Love 

Last Few Days to Enter Shirley Martin's May Contest

Please enter my contest for a chance to win a lovely adjustable aquamarine ring. 

Second prize is a one-year subscription to Romantic Times. 

Contest ends May 31st. 

Send answers to Mshirley1496@aol.com

 

Go to my page at http://bookswelove.net/martin.php and name the hero of each of these romance novels, Wolf Magic and Allegra's Dream.

Good luck!

Shirley Martin

Two Sentence Horror Stories

These are great. I wish I could take credit for any of them but I can't. Enjoy! ~ Jamie Hill

If you're looking for a horrifying story that will keep you up tonight, don't waste all that time watching a horror movie. Reddit has provided us with pages of terrifying horror stories wrapped up in two sentences or less. Here are some favorite stories guaranteed to make you keep your lights on tonight.

1. Therealhatman
I woke up to hear knocking on glass. At first, I thought it was the window until I heard it come from the mirror again.

2. Jmperson
The last thing I saw was my alarm clock flashing 12:07 before she pushed her long rotting nails through my chest, her other hand muffling my screams. I sat bolt upright, relieved it was only a dream, but as I saw my alarm clock read 12:06, I heard my closet door creak open.

3. Miami_Metro
Growing up with cats and dogs, I got used to the sounds of scratching at my door while I slept. Now that I live alone, it is much more unsettling.

4. EvilSteveDave
In all of the time that I've lived alone in this house, I swear to God I've closed more doors than I've opened.

5. Drrd777
A girl heard her mom yell her name from downstairs, so she got up and started to head down. As she got to the stairs, her mom pulled her into her room and said "I heard that, too."

6. Calamitosity
She asked why I was breathing so heavily. I wasn't.

7. The_D_String
My wife woke me up last night to tell me there was an intruder in our house. She was murdered by an intruder 2 years ago.

8. Doctordevice
I awoke to the sound of the baby monitor crackling with a voice comforting my firstborn child. As I adjusted to a new position, my arm brushed against my wife, sleeping next to me.

9. Hangukbrian
I always thought my cat had a staring problem - she always seemed fixated on my face. Until one day, when I realized that she was always looking just behind me.

10. Wartortlesthebestest
There's nothing like the laughter of a baby. Unless it's 1 a.m. and you're home alone.

11. Vigridarena
I was having a pleasant dream when what sounded like hammering woke me. After that, I could barely hear the muffled sound of dirt covering the coffin over my own screams.

12. Vaultkid321
"I can't sleep," she whispered, crawling into bed with me. I woke up cold, clutching the dress she was buried in.

13. JustAnotherMuffledVo
I begin tucking him into bed and he tells me, "Daddy, check for monsters under my bed." I look underneath for his amusement and see him, another him, under the bed, staring back at me quivering and whispering, "Daddy, there's somebody on my bed."

14. madamimadamimadam
You get home, tired after a long day's work and ready for a relaxing night alone. You reach for the light switch, but another hand is already there.

15. Graboid27
I can't move, breathe, speak or hear and it's so dark all the time. If I knew it would be this lonely, I would have been cremated instead.

16. Aerron
She went upstairs to check on her sleeping toddler. The window was open and the bed was empty.

17. Genetically_witless
I never go to sleep. But I keep waking up.

18. Skuppy
My daughter won't stop crying and screaming in the middle of the night. I visit her grave and ask her to stop, but it doesn't help.

19. Cobaltcollapse
After working a hard day, I came home to see my girlfriend cradling our child. I didn't know which was more frightening, seeing my dead girlfriend and stillborn child, or knowing that someone broke into my apartment to place them there.

20. Guztaluz
There was a picture in my phone of me sleeping. I live alone.