Am I allowed to laugh while at the festival of the dead?

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Am I allowed to laugh while at the festival of the dead?

They say Madness merely depends on which end of the knife blade you’re staring at, and who’s holding the gun to your head. Or so said my mother, before we lost her on that first night of our holidays. She’d taken up jogging the day before she disappeared and to this day we still don’t know where she is.  I was ten at the time and had poked my head around the corner, everyone else was asleep. I asked her where she was going. Thinking it odd that she would be up by herself, getting dressed. She was crying and tried to hide her tears as I asked. She assured me everything was okay and as she patted my rear to the direction of my room, I remember seeing Dad staring through the partly open window of that Mexican beach house. He had a strange look on his face as Mom ran off and it wasn’t from Montezuma’s revenge either.  I’ll never get adults; life as a kid seems so easy. Only mom never came back. I cried for days. Dad said she was just running. It took me many years to know from what. I always thought for years after that it was me.

My parents brought us here to see the festival of the dead. I'd already guessed it wasn't going to be a happy holiday. Solemn affair, everyone just hanging around waiting to see whose limb falls off first. Some even tried placing bets, but all their credit cards had been cancelled and the relatives had absconded with the money. But I thought that's what wills were for. I'd already been to a couple of school sock hops that should have been named the same.

 Yes, Mexico. I did tell mom to make sure she earns brownie points by telling everyone at the festival that she should buy them a drink. Wouldn't cost much and even the zombies can't drink. Well, they try but by the time the drink reaches their mouths they've either crushed the glass or spilled it all over themselves. Oh and note to self, don't waste your best jokes on zombies, they don't get it. Humor I've discovered is way beyond them. But yo-yos are another matter. Keeps them entertained for days. Just watching the ball going up and down, up and down, up and down and believe it or not, up and down. Don't think they get past the string and realize there's someone at the end controlling it.

Yup, survival tip #101 when walking through parts of town that are quite dodgy, "If attacked by zombies, whip out your yo-yo, give it to someone with spasmodic seizures and run like hell".

PS. To all of those who are currently crying into their hankies, Kleenexes or shirt sleeves, please don’t. Do remember this is a blog written by a fiction writer. Hope that is a big enough hint. But if I did get you crying, well I’ve done a good job as a writer at pulling emotion out of the reader. Now if only I could predict lottery scores.

Available in Fall 2015

Writing tips I've learned from my long ride by Sandy Semerad

     It's been a lengthy journey, going from news reporter to author. I'd like to think I've learned a few things along the way, although I have often pondered this question: 

   Has working as a reporter helped me write better novels?

I hope so, but it’s been quite a ride. It didn’t start off as I intended.

As a child, I made up stories in my head, but as a reporter, I had to stick to the facts—“just the facts mam.”

In my early years, as a wet behind the ears journalist, I struggled to write a proper lead sentence with who, what, when, where, why and sometimes how. Or at least I was told that was the proper way.

I’d lose sleep, agonizing over the five w’s, not to mention the how’s. With perseverance, I learned to please my editors and meet my deadlines.

I still think it’s important to know the rules, particularly the rules of grammar, but it’s equally vital to find your own voice. Breaking the rules might be part of that process.

As for my journey as a writer, I have evolved. I’ve learned to construct simpler lead sentences, without including the five w’s all at once. I felt it was my obligation as a news woman to inform readers without boring them to death.

Readers crave excitement and conflict. That I know.

Who wants every question answered in the beginning? Not I.

It wasn’t until I moved to Florida that I started writing down the stories in my head. I saw a man fall from the back of a truck into a car, and I wondered: What if this happened to me on my way to New Orleans during Mardi Gras?

I entertained myself with this story until the characters began to multiply. I couldn’t keep them straight in my head. So I started writing about them. In a few months, I had a novel, or at least the first draft of a novel.

In reading through my first draft, I realized I needed more conflict. It wasn’t easy placing my lovely characters in danger, but I bit the bullet, and ruthlessly overwhelmed them with problems. I made them struggle and fail and encounter death until the very end. Call me merciless.

I also learned how to start off my tale with an inciting incident. I call this hooking the reader. Hook the reader with every turn, I say. Add hooks in the beginning, cliff hangers at the end of each chapter and at transitional breaks.

For me, the beginning of my story is the most challenging. How will I create a life-changing event? Will this event be the death of a loved one, a divorce, a murder, a job loss, a terrible accident, or a violent argument? Whatever, it must be riveting.

My first mystery novel Sex, Love, & Murder (previously Mardi Gravestone), begins with two inciting incidents. In the prologue, the president and my main character Lilah--a journalist and young widow-- are shot. After the prologue, I have the first chapter starting the week before the shootings. Lilah is in an automobile accident. A man is in a coma as a result of that accident. As the ambulance takes him away, Lilah discovers his tossed suitcase, containing cash and the details of a murder.

In Hurricane House, my protagonist is mourning the death of her fiancé when she discovers a body in the gulf.

In A Message in the Roses, Carrie Sue unlocks a diary revealing secrets she has yet to resolve.

But I must confess, when I first began writing novels, I suffered from backstory-itis, commonly known as information dump. (I define back story as anything that has happened to a character before the inciting incident).

As an avid reader myself, I enjoy a story with unanswered question. I like to ponder and wonder. Adding too much of the back story takes that pleasure away from me.

Now I find it helpful to write a back story for each of my main characters before I begin my tale. I want to know my characters as well as I know myself. Armed with this knowledge, I can add back story as needed.

In A Message in the Roses, Carrie Sue’s parents died in a plane crash. I mentioned this in the first chapter, because I thought readers needed to understand why she grabbed a letter opener and tried to stab her cheating husband. If I failed to create sympathy for Carrie Sue, readers might not like her and understand her impulsiveness.  

Including back story can be tricky, no question. It can be almost as complex as utilizing the five senses in scenes.

I have a tendency to overwrite, and for that reason, I hide my first drafts. No one sees them unless I badly need the opinion of someone like my husband, whom I trust.

I wish my every word and every sentence were impeccable but, I no longer bow to perfection while writing the first draft.  

Perfection, I’ve found is an elusive goal, entirely subjective, and in my life, it seems I’ve attained more from my imperfections and failures. I’ve certainly learned never to give up, no matter what, and I sincerely hope you’ve learned a few things from my writing struggles.

Whatever you take away, I want you to know: I write with passion, and when you think about it, writing with passion, might be the best tip of all.

To read more about my work please visit my website and the links below: www.sandysemerad.com

Buy link, A Message in the Roses

Buy Link, Huricane House

Buy Link, Sex, Love & Murder

How The Ghost Dance Originated by Ginger Simpson

Writing historical westerns with a smidge of romance and sex is my passion.  Although I've drifted away from the genre from time to time, I keep getting called back by my characters.  Yes, you know I hear voices  and amost of them have a twang. 

 I just submitted two re-releases to Books We love, and as you probably guessed, they are historical westerns.  My nose is always in a research book because when you write about historical facts, you'd better get them right.  Here's a little info on the kind of stuff you find when you're looking.  You may not always use the information in a book, but learning is always a good thing.

While researching history, I've turned again to my wonderful "America's Fascinating Indian Heritage" published by Reader's Digest.  I cannot tell you how many times I have counted on this historical guide to help me get my facts straight...and to learn.

In 1881, Sitting Bull and his Sioux tribe surrendered to the U.S., closing the history of the plains Indians as we know it.  All plains Indians were confined to reservations in the Dakotas,  to lands so dry and unyielding, that even experienced farmer's would encounter problems working the soil.  The people were expected to survive on supplies rationed by the government to supplement what they grew, but sadly, the food they received was as scarce as the yield they garnered from the tilled soil.

Land-hungry white men took advantage of the starving Indians and tried to buy their plots for as little as 50 cents per acre, and certain government agencies pressured the red man to consent to sell off the excess real estate. Caught in the middle of greed and hunger, the tribe sustained themselves with memories of the old days.

Far away, a Paiute prophet, Wavoka had a vision that spread and gave a new hope to the desparity.  The Ghost Dance would bring a new dawn and a time when the white man would disappear.  The dead would be resurrected and all Indian existence would change, living forever and hunting the new herds of buffalo that would reappear.

In preparation, The Ghost Dance had to be performed, a simple ceremony consisting of dancing and chanting, often resulting in a frenzy where participants often fell into a semi-conscious state and saw visions of the coming of the new world.  A Ghost Dance shirt, thought to make the wearer safe from the white man's bullets, was adopted, and because so many wore such shirts, the garments may have been the reason the ritual was considered a war dance.

Despite mistreatment at the hands of the whites and the undertones of the Dance, no antiwhite feelings were expressed and the message of the cult was one of peace, but fear mongering among the white officials on the reservation and spreading of gossip pointed a finger at Sitting Bull, who was thought to be the focus of the ceremony.

  Forty-three Indian police were ordered to arrest him, and descended upon his cabin.  He fought against the injustice due to what has been said to be taunts from old women to resist the whites once again. Shots were fired and at the end, fourteen people, including Sitting Bull lay dead.  More next month of the aftermath known as the Slaughter at Wounded Knee.

Note from Ginger:  All information pertaining to the Ghost Dance is attributed to Reader's Digest.  I have paraphrased to share this event with you.

Here are my two latest releases from Books We Love.  Find them on my page and click the covers for more information and purchasing options.