Tuesday, July 31, 2018

Priscilla Brown muses on writing environments


   She's lover shopping, but her new boss could never be the goods on her wish list. Besides, which of them is really the boss?

For more information and to purchase this recently released contemporary romance, visit http://www.bookswelove.net/authors/brown-priscilla-romance

A few weeks ago I attended a short lecture on the writing lives of four famous authors: Daphne du Maurier, Virginia Woolf, C S Lewis and Ernest Hemingway. The lecturer addressed where they lived, where they actually wrote, their daily routine, and how much their environment shaped their work.

I found myself particularly interested in the influence of the physical environment, and wondered if the stories for which these writers are well known could have been written in different surroundings; not necessarily the location of the plot, or of most of it, but the setting in which the writer is working.I haven't been to du Maurier's beloved Cornwall where she wrote and which clearly had a huge influence, and her writing brought the area to vivid life for me. In contrast, Ernest Hemingway lived in many different places and, interestingly, wrote about Paris and others after he'd left them. My curiosity lay in the outside environment rather than the room and desk where the creative work occurred.

Thinking back to my own writing life, when I started more or less seriously (that is, aiming for publication), I was living in an isolated New South Wales coastal village and attempting short stories. I used to take my notebook to the beach, sit on the sand and scribble ideas, fragments of stories. This physical environment--the sea, usually calm as our village was situated on a large bay, and frequented by dolphins; the white sand beach, its access track fringed with bushes; the tall forest behind the village--all inspired, indeed encouraged, my literary efforts. Most, but not all, of these early stories were set around this locale; a few were published, and others relegated to a hard copy file in case parts could be used in some future work. (Still waiting!)

The physical environment is of course not only about place and the sense of sight. It's also about the other senses. With this littoral environment, the ocean-fresh sense of smell was marked, of salt and of the scent of eucalypts in the forest; salt contributed to taste also--it stuck to lips and found its way into sandwiches. Sounds included the gentle slap of waves, the hum of the sea at night, calls of seabirds, dolphins breaching, bushes rustling in the breeze; the sense of touch was stimulated by brushing against spiky leaves, swimming in the the often cool water, sand tickling bare feet.

Perhaps I should add that this area has a temperate climate, warm summers, chilly winters, and there is bad weather, high winds, rain, storms. In fact, one of my favourite short stories involved a small boat wrecked during a storm.

Moving inland to a small regional town  means that while this particular ambience no longer actively influences my writing, twenty years of living by the sea will always remain in the background, and I 
 recall the experience when required for a story. Now, instead of writing by the beach, I'm finding our
lovely small garden, such as was difficult to establish in coastal sandy soil, fulfils a need for an outdoors creative space. I appreciate its peaceful mood, and enjoy watching honeyeaters and parrots feeding on the Australian native flowers and shrubs. The only drawback is at the moment in winter it's too cold to work outside.



The idea for Class Act developed from several years teaching English to adult speakers of other languages, work sometimes challenging and always rewarding. The setting of Gina and Lee's language school is in a different city and different kind of building, and the plot and characters are complete fiction. (My then Director was nowhere near as interesting as Lee in the story!)

Enjoy your reading!  Priscilla.


Sunday, July 29, 2018

Another Journey down I-70.



Antioch College, Yellow Springs, OH
Old Main, built in the 1870's

I don’t do much long distance driving these days, except to western Ohio to visit my 90 year old Aunt J. She was the youngest of the 3 girls born to my grandparents. Paradoxically, she was the one always in ill health. She had trichinosis in her 1930’s childhood and barely survived. She had spinal fusion during the 60’s—not an optimum decade for surgical tinkering with the skeleton. Though she’s weak as a kitten—between busted spine and unused muscles—here she still is in 2018—breathing and talking, as full of opinions and stories as she ever was. A  perfect descripton for her would be Shakespeare’s: “though she be but little, she is fierce.”

Aunt Juliet and me, Summer 1945

ALL my female relatives were spacey in one sense or another, so I come by it naturally, but with my aunt, I am just beginning to note a faint slippage between her past and future selves. Aging is such a bitch, as it takes place on many levels, body and brain. Read a Thurber story, one like “The Night the Ghost Got in” and you’ll have a better understanding of what the women in my family are like. 

I’ve done a lot of traveling on I-70 over the last thirty years, always making the “home place” pilgrimage. My arrival brings mixed messages. Yellow Springs is nothing less than an fable I tell myself. Aged nine, I chronicled the tears when I departed, written in a journal while on my way home from Grandma and Grandpa’s house. 

In those days, I was little, cute, and good. The college was prospering; the town was eccentric, but still sleepy.

Camping with my grandparents


Physics—or, a driving story 

A long side by side train of vehicles emerging in a long snake as we go west out of Columbus. Construction, construction, on I-70 and on I-71, as well as I-270, causes a pinch point of driver’s stress.  The semis are rolling; FDX with pups, Crete, Hunt, England, and they are not the only ones, the heavy equipment long bed, except for some big chains, want to run back for the next load at 75, and a whole bunch of what I am told are called by the professionals “Roller Skates” are out there, driving like fools, a few potential dotards beside me. I--like 70% of us, I think I recently read--imagine ourselves to be "above-average"drivers. I know I'm a pretty good one, especially at defensive driving--after all, I learned to drive in Massachusetts...

 Other than the truckers, the rest are “kids” which is now, in my book, anyone under 50. Of course, the real kids, the backwards hat twenty-somethings—both male and female—can be a real problem. A couple of them in a beat up black Japanese something or other—maybe a ten year old Civic—decided that the tiny crack between a semi and the aforesaid heavy equipment long bed would be a good spot to wedge themseleves into . 

Maybe they were playing automobile roulette, or maybe they thought they were still in the video game they’d been playing earlier, the one which automatically resets the players at “start” after you die. I, at 73, have much less faith in this kind of magical thinking, so, instinctively—I was two cars back but traveling the inside lane so I had a sight line—well, I tapped my breaks, just to tune up the guys behind me. People always follow too close. A second later, the following truck hit his. 

I don’t know if the trucker screamed at the dopes who’d just asked him to perform a stock car racing kind of miracle in order to keep them alive—this, while he was just out there at 9:30 a.m. on a Monday, trying to have a decent day in the office. I prayed we all would have a decent day, and cast an eye to the road's shoulder.

 Fortunately, around Columbus is flat as a pancake, even beside the sculpted vandalism of an interstate. Flat, no big trees, no immediate barbed wire—good! To my great relief—and I don’t think I was the only one—though, nothing happened. The truck slowed, the Civic squeezed into the spot, no one touched anyone--and a good thing, too, at 75 mph.  We and the backwards hats were spared one of those hard, mean life-changing lessons about PHYSICS. 

Yellow Springs Bumper Sticker: 1.9 square miles surrounded by Reality.

Mr. Eko

The Sixties landed and never took off from this town (my hometown) in a sometimes less than pleasant way. Some things delight me, the glittery, slight sinister pipe, t-shirt & poster shops, the book store—the fabulous Dark Star--the import and antique/junk/clothing shops, the deli, little restaurants, and Tom’s small, yet incredible grocery store, full of local, organic free-range everything.



It’s the attitude of the visitors, and of many of downtown folks that grates. Some towns have drunks, and YS has always had a few. Over the years, the town also acquired the tattooed/pierced owners of lunging Akitas, the gray-disreputable chronic cafe table hogs, all of them scattering cigarette butts and dog poop indiscriminately.  I mean, you can be tattooed and pierced and have green or orange hair—no problem —just be polite and keep your butts in your pocket if you can't find an ashtray. Smile and say hello! After all, isn’t engagement the whole point of the sidewalk cafĂ© sitter? And don’t let your Akita or Pitty bite me in the leg –or more to the point—the leg of my aged aunt -- as we pass by.

There’s the 21st Century too, to contend with. The cell phone users who blindly crowd others off the sidewalk, or insist that everyone needs to listen to their very important conversation, those texting behind the wheel who can barely operate the vehicle because they are busy talking, the jay walking scofflaws--there are a plethora-- who don’t use the many well-marked crosswalks.

The big semis  who are forced to drive through on State Route 68, must really, really hate this once unremarkable small midwest town.  

~~Juliet Waldron




Fly Away Snow Goose, in the Canadian Historical Brides series

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Saturday, July 28, 2018

Casting your Characters by Connie Vines

Casting your characters.


In Hollywood the studios hold casting calls. 

The ‘closed' sessions (actors who are being seen have been invited to audition) is the pool your block-buster movies directors/producers/writers use as a casting tool.

Perhaps your novel doesn’t’ feature a superhero.  Your story does, however, have an amazing cast of characters.

Right?
Perhaps not at the moment. . .but soon.

Let’s go back to the superhero/blockbuster movie as an example. 

No role in Hollywood is more scrutinized, and few can offer the type of onscreen immortality (or notoriety, depending on how the movie turns out). Michael Keaton's casting in 1989's Batman inspired nerd outrage before the Internet was a thing. Angry message board comments plastered the web when Heath Ledger was announced as the new Joker, and Ryan Reynolds' first outing as Deadpool in 2009's X-Men Origins: Wolverine appeared to have doomed the character's big screen prospects forever. But they all prevailed.

Hollywood miscasts:

Forget the stilted dialogue, the insipid love story that dominates the second movie or Jar Jar Binks and let's talk about the real problem with the 'Star Wars' prequels -- Hayden Christensen. His turn as Anakin Skywalker comes off as bratty, petulant and completely lacking in menace.

Of all the actors who've played Batman over the years, George Clooney is one of the most perplexing.  His performance in 1997's 'Batman & Robin' effectively killed the franchise until Christopher Nolan came along in 2005 with 'Batman Begins.'


When casting your characters, you need to examine everyone who auditions for a part in your upcoming novel.

Does he/she fit the part? Or is he/she a miscast?

Part to be cast: a genie.   I have decided to hold and ‘open casting’ call.

My first actor: This genie is female and appears to be middle-aged. She is a little short and is a bit pudgy.  She has dark brown eyes, dark red skin, and wavy white hair in a short ponytail.  She wears a short-sleeved tunic, a mid-length skirt, and a pair of earrings.  She lives in a biscuit tin and is fond of sweets.

Actor number two: This genie is male and appears to be rather young. He is short and is quite thin.  He has pastel orange eyes, yellow skin, and straight light brown hair worn mid-length.  He wears no shirt, a pair of mid-length trousers, and too much jewelry.  He lives in a brass lamp and grants your wishes... but not the way you wanted them.

Actor number three: This genie is male and appears to be rather young. He is tall and is quite muscular.  He has black eyes, light brown skin, and wavy dark blue hair wrapped underneath a turban.  He wears a long-sleeved tunic, a pair of long trousers, and a pair of wristbands.  He lives in a Chinese lamp and likes a cup of hot tea.

Of course, the perfect genie would depend on the premise of your story, the plot twists you have in place, and your interaction between characters.

If my story had a suburban setting with children who needed to be minded/guided, my choice is
actor #1.


Am I looking for an ‘evil/trouble-maker?  Actor #2 would be perfect.

Perhaps I’m looking for an unlikely romantic lead for a comedy. . .actor #3 wins the casting call.

Music. 

Cue the music. 

Every blockbuster has a dedicated theme song!


Happy Reading,
Connie Vines

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