Steven Ramirez's Blog: Glass Highway, page 38

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Wow, Starbucks is crowded today. How am I going to concentrate? I’ll just check Facebook until things calm down. #AmWriting #NaNoWriMo

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Aw, man, I could watch that ‘Bad Grampa’ clip again and again and still fall on the floor. Okay, I need to get serious here. #AmWriting #NaNoWriMo

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Okay, here we go.

He looked at her with longing, like a slavering hobo outside a rundown Arby’s.

No, wait … #AmWriting #NaNoWriMo

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Oh, crap. What day is it? #AmWriting #NaNoWriMo

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Yep, that’s right. I’m doing it. After all the wailing and hand wringing, I’ve decided to go all in. And I’m not happy about, let me tell you. In a previous post, I covered all the reasons why this contest doesn’t make sense for me. Nevertheless, I’m giving it a try. Why?

To challenge myself.

And that’s the best reason of all.

So over the next thirty days, you will see daily updates on this site as I plod through the month, hoping I don’t alienate friends and family too much and end up gibbering in a corner of the garage. Hey, maybe I’ll even lose some weight! Yeah …

Good night, family, good night Netflix, good night, moon. See you in December. I hope. Anyone know how to set an Out of Office message on Twitter?

Buh-bye for now.

Oh, and Happy Halloween!

Related articles

22 Reasons You Should Participate in NaNoWriMo (aspiringwriter22.wordpress.com)
NaNoWriMo tips – dealing with deadlines (jenspenden.wordpress.com)
NaNoWriMo – Don’t Publish Me (aopinionatedman.com)


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Hey, guys. I am pleased to let you know that Grip of Mortality, the latest from author CL Foster, is now on sale for ninety-nine cents! Still not excited? Okay, read this …

Shade stood in the center of the kitchen with nothing but pajama pants and an apron on. The only people that had lived in the house since the girls were born were women, so the only apron in the house was purple, frilly, and cute. Seeing a towering, muscle-bound God donning a girly apron should have been hilarious, but it just made Rozar warm inside.

As she stepped closer, she tried to get a better look at Shade’s arms. They were covered in dozens of tiny tattoos, all connecting somehow. When he turned to check something on the stove, she saw that his back was covered in tiny script all the way from his neck down his back. The urge to reach out and trace it with her finger was overwhelming.

Her eyes started to wander and she took an adventure over his well-toned body. His arms and back were perfectly sculpted. If he were to stand still, chances are that people would assume he was some statue from a museum, but Greek Gods had nothing on this guy.

As he continued to mess with something on the stove, she took a chance to study his hair. She’d never seen dreadlocks before. The way they were wrapped almost looked tribal, which made sense since he was from the fiercest tribe in the entire region. His dreads, tattoos, and body were all fascinating to her until she could see his face. It was just the side of his face, but he was beautiful for a man. She suddenly wondered what his mother looked like.

“Make it a habit of wearing women’s clothing, Shade?” Rozar jeered when she finally snapped out of her survey of Shade and found the proper motion for her feet again a moment later.

“You know a guy needs to feel pretty too,” he answered as he turned back to face them and fluttered his eyelashes. “I find that the apron and pajama pants look really brings out my inner goddess and helps me connect with the females in my life,” he chuckled. “We have to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes before we can understand them, right? And hey, if it gets the attention of a beautiful woman, I am obviously doing something right,” he added, leaning in her direction. He sent her a wink and turned around to continue with his work.

“You know, Shade, I think purple is your color. You, satin, and Cavalli would be a match made in heaven, truly,” Mira added to the conversation. Not helping, but added anyway.

“Please don’t encourage him!” Rozar’s giggles burst from her. She put her hand up to cover her mouth.

Shade leaned on the bar that separated the cooking area from the small breakfast table. “Girl, right? That and some Louboutin’s and I would be fierce!” His laugh resonated through the room when Rozar’s face turned from giggles to horror. “I’m just teasing, love.” When she smiled again at him, he added, “I haven’t worn heels in weeks!”

Rozar finally gave in and burst into full laughter. “I can just see you strutting through the woods in full glam.” She grabbed her stomach and continued to laugh as she pulled up a chair at the bar to sit and watch Shade work.

“It’s not glam. It’s rustic chic. Not everyone can pull it off, but I have the goods, I think,” he said and did a small turn in the kitchen. “Well?”

“Totally,” Mira agreed as Rozar groaned.

“What did I say about encouraging him?” They were all laughing so hard it was difficult to speak.

“I’m just saying, a guy that knows what Cavalli and Louboutin even is, is a keeper,” Mira jeered as she shot her sister a wink.

“As if we ever wear that high-end garbage. All of us just want to play outside and run as our leopard. We don’t need clothes for that,” Rozar reminded.

“And I fully support the no-clothes policy you are trying to initiate.” When she deadpan stared at him for five consecutive seconds, he scooted back to the stove to work more.

“So -,” she was choking on her laughter so much, she could no longer control her breathing or sentences. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Well, I don’t know about you ladies, but I wake up ravenous. I think it has to do with our metabolism and the fact that I get an amazing workout in my dreams.” He shot another wink at Rozar and watched her blush before continuing. “I’m making French toast, sausage, eggs, and have already cut up fruit for a fruit bowl.” He pointed to the left of the sink. “I wasn’t sure what everyone wanted, but since all of this stuff was in here, I assumed you guys ate it.”

“Yeah, our house is like a frat house with a bunch of dudes. Just make it and slap it down, it will get devoured and no one will want to do the dishes afterward,” Mira explained with a laugh.

“Sweet.” Shade said. Another smile formed on his lips and made Rozar’s insides melt. She decided that his smile would be the death of her.

“Wow, that looks like a complete rainbow over there,” she interjected. “Can’t wait to have some. Should we go wake everyone else up?” Rozar asked Shade.

“Umm, why don’t you go get everyone else up, Mira? But please leave Clara. She stayed up very late and was up in the middle of the night a few times as well checking on Rozar. We will save her some though, of course,” Shade directed.

“Yeah, sure. Be back in a sec,” Mira practically sang as she skipped up the stairs.

“Do you need help?” Rozar asked hesitantly.

“I don’t need help, but I would love for you to join me,” Shade invited.

 

Synopsis

The curse of the Cortez family followed Mira Cortez and a decision needed to be made; it wasn’t if she will go but a matter of when. Mira won’t sit by and wait while her mate is sent on a mission that could end him and their chance to break her family’s curse. She must join her mate and use her hidden ability to protect him and their way of life, before they all become Endangered.

The family of wereleopards must battle for their lives against their greatest enemy… their own family.

With the odds against them, everything depends on The Cortez Quintuplets. Combined they’re a force to be reckoned with but when Rozar Cortez meets her mate, everything changes. With all on the line, she must choose: continue to fight with her family and use her curse ability or take a chance on love even if he’s not what he seems.

Will Rozar follow her heart or will she face being trapped by the Grip of Mortality?

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Author Bio

CL is eclectic, geeky, positive, nature-loving and completely non-”normal” (just the way she likes to be). She has been a fan of literature since she was a small child and finally decided to take her dreams (both waking and sleeping!) and do something positive with them.

CL has lived all over the world and has a Bachelor’s degree in Criminal Justice, minoring in Psychology and Forensics. Which means you don’t want to cross her because she knows how and where to hide a body so it’s never found! She proudly admits to hearing voices in her head, but at times, her characters’ impromptu visits can be rude and annoying. Thankfully, she has adequate patience for their shenanigans and can out ninja them any day of the week.

CL’s voice is boisterous, sassy, and not finished yet! Stay tuned!

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It’s that time of the year again, people. When I burn a lot of cycles in the bathroom or bedroom closet, covering my ears and singing “La la la la la …” When my guts wrench and I OD on Nutella and Circus Animal cookies. Yep, it’s almost November, and that can mean only one thing: National Novel Writing Month. Gahhhhhh!

For the uninitiated, this annual event is a completely self-imposed circle of hell. Well, not exactly a circle. If you read Dante’s Inferno, you’d know that, other than Purgatory, these places are pretty specific to sinners of various persuasions. No, NaNoWriMo is more of a mezzanine, in my view. Still plenty of suffering, though.

Thanks to the fine NaNoWriMo organizers, November is now a time when everything else is shoved aside and you try mightily to bang out a novel in thirty days. And here’s the thing. People like Stephen King have been writing this way for years. A novel in a month? No problem! How about two?

Me, I write slowly.

So why am I even subjecting myself to this kind of tsuris? I mean, I thought I covered this last year. Well, because this year I am actually … considering … joining that illustrious list of psychopaths who actually believe they can bang out fifty thousand words in a month.

The Minus Column

And it won’t be easy by any stretch of the imagination. In addition to writing, I have a wonderful family whom I enjoy spending time with. And I have a full-time job that takes me to exotic locales like Orlando. And Cleveland (see Dante’s Inferno).

If you visit the website, you’ll notice that the NaNoWriMo tag line is, The world needs your novel. Yeah? Well, do they need an unemployed writer whose family has decided to leave him because he hasn’t showered in weeks and won’t take out the garbage or help the kids with their homework?

I guess it does.

Fun fact: Did you know that writers who are married are much more likely to divorce in November? Okay, I made that up. But do I really want to risk it?

The Plus Column

On the positive side, I am about to begin writing the sequel to my “wildly successful” [citation needed] zombie novel, Tell Me When I’m Dead. It’s been getting positive reviews and stuff, so I recently decided to set aside the other two novels I am working on and get busy. And who knows, maybe this contest is just what I need to get this thing done.

Making a Plan

As I pointed out in a previous post, fifty thousand words in thirty days amounts to around 1,700 words a day—every day. You can’t miss and make it up later because there’s a cascading effect. It’s like exercise. You’re either all in or forget it.

So when to write? Night doesn’t work because it’s always too unpredictable. Sometimes, I’m helping my daughters with homework until 10 pm. Who feels like writing after that when you have to be up at 6 am the next morning?

So if I were to do this, I’m convinced it would have to be in the morning. Some writers I know get up at 5 am and write before going to work. That takes discipline, and I’ve never really been good with that. Which leads me to …

The Right Motivation

Money is a great motivator. On the other hand, Henry Miller said that writing is its own reward. Whatever. I still need something to make me get up extra early in the morning—NaNoWriMo doesn’t give out cash prizes, to my knowledge. But I think I figured it out.

Time travel.

What? Yeah, time travel—specifically, to the future. The future me who has a finished novel and is now in the process of editing. I like that me because he’s the guy who rose early every morning and banged out a couple thousand words. In fact, I was that me when I finished my last novel. Only, it took me a lot longer than a month to write, let me tell you. Why can’t it be NaNoWriYear?

The real test is if I actually register for the event. Because when you fill out a web form, it means you’re, you know, committed. Doesn’t it?

We’ll see. I never thought the definition of a writer is someone who can write fast. Nevertheless, anything to help me get this second book out probably isn’t a bad thing.

Related articles

My NaNoWriMo History and Confessions (sanctuaryofmusings.wordpress.com)
My NaNoWriMo Preparation Lists (wordsofprocrastination2.wordpress.com)
Rewards vs Sacrifices of Participating in NaNoWriMo (aspiringwriter22.wordpress.com)


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Photo Courtesy of Wasfi Akab via Creative Commons

There’s nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein.

That quote—or variations of it—has been attributed to the sportswriter Red Smith, among others. I’ve thought a lot about it over the years, trying to determine whether the writer was (a) being funny, (b) over-dramatizing or (c) attempting to impart real wisdom. Recently, I’ve come to believe that C is the correct answer.

Good writing is about the mechanics. Great writing is about putting yourself into the words. Actors talk a lot about this—putting themselves into their character. I once asked a friend of mine who had studied method acting at the Actors Studio, “Do you actually become the character?” “No,” he said. That would mean I’m insane. Good point.

So, must writers become the characters we are writing about? No, but there are three things I believe to be essential if you want the reader to believe they exist.

You Must Understand

Without understanding, you’re doomed to writing thin, unbelievable characters. I should know—I’ve written enough of them. We all have. In screenplays, people always talk about a character’s backstory. Screenwriters spend a lot of time writing detailed histories of their characters, things like where they went to school, whether they have siblings, the kind of music they enjoy, etc.

Me, I don’t do that. I always start with someone I know or someone I’ve met. Sometimes, I create a composite. The point is, by honing in on a specific person, I’ve already got my backstory. To me, it’s a waste of time to create a fake history when there are so many real, interesting people in the world. And this is not say that I don’t embellish.

I might meet someone who is a little fidgety. For the purposes of my story, I will take that quality and exaggerate it. How about someone who’s always got the jitters? Now, imagine that this person defuses bombs for a living or, in the case of an old Seinfeld episode, is a moyel. Never let that guy near your son during the briss!

The real person is a starting point, an armature upon which to build your fictional character. In fact, unless you want to get sued, it’s probably better that you use a stranger rather than a friend. This way, you can imagine all the rich detail you will need for your story.

What about yourself? Well, that depends on two things: Are you interesting, and can you be objective? Or, as in the case of ‘This Is the End,’ are you satirizing yourself?

You Must Create Empathy

Without empathy, you got nothin’. Period. This is especially true for the bad guy. Did you ever watch one of those TV shows where the bad guy is like a cartoon? There is absolutely no motivation for him to do the things he does, other than the fact that he’s the bad guy. Characters like this are signs of a lazy writer. “I know! He’ll wear a black hat because, you know, he’s the bad guy.”

One of the greatest bad guys ever is Darth Vader. When we first meet him, he is full-on evil. But when you learn what happened to him, you empathize. You can’t help it. He didn’t start out bad. He is simply the result of the choices he made. In other words, a tragic character.

How does a writer create empathy? That’s not easy to answer because it’s different for everyone. In my case, I begin to see and hear the character as I write dialogue. Probably comes from years of writing screenplays. And in life, as on the page, people reveal themselves through dialogue.

The other day, I watched ‘Failure to Launch’ with my older daughter. Okay, it’s not very good, but it was a comedy and was something I felt we could enjoy together.

There’s a moment toward the end when the mother (Kathy Bates) has a heart-to-heart with her adult son, Tripp (Matthew McConaughey), who’s finally moved out. She tells him that she liked having him in the house because he acted as a buffer between the father (Terry Bradshaw) and her. Apparently, the couple had not been alone for many years while raising their son, and she was afraid that each of them might have changed too much.

“What if he doesn’t like me?” she says.

In an otherwise mediocre film, that moment was priceless to me. It revealed more about the mother than pages of prose ever could.

You Must Make Others React

One of the best ways to bring a character to life is to show how others react to them. I just watched ‘Silver Linings Playbook’ for the second time. Now, that’s a great movie. One of the themes has to do with how a person conducts himself in the world. It’s about behavior—what is normal and acceptable, and what is not only self-destructive, but hurtful to others.

Brad Cooper’s “Pat” keeps getting feedback about his behavior. And through this feedback, we come to understand when he is doing well and when he’s not so good. The same is true for Jennifer Lawrence’s character, Tiffany.

Although Pat talks a lot in this movie—and we can get a sense of his pain and frustration, it’s when others react to him that we really know the score. The parents, the cop, his therapist—even Tiffany. And this all gets flipped when he reacts to her. That’s when we learn what her deal is.

“So what do I do?” Write scenes where other characters comment on the main character’s looks, attitude, something they said that was funny or mean. Then go back to the main character and ask them to react to the reaction. “What do you mean, I’m a jerk?”

Blood on the Page

Getting back to the quote that started this conversation, what does it all mean? For me, it means that your writing must be infused with your blood. And unless you’re writing splatter gore, you won’t even make a mess. But with a much-needed transfusion, your writing will become vibrant.

Try this. Create a character based on someone you’ve met. Now, give them a disease. Too morbid? Okay, give them the winning Powerball ticket. Whatever the life-changing moment, write a scene about them coping with what happened. How do they react? What do they say? Try to feel what they are feeling. Remember, you’re going for real emotion—not just words.

Now, compare this to a character you created previously. I hope there’s a difference—for the better.

Related articles

Character Development (okinawawriters.wordpress.com)
Dialogue as “character communication” (gointothestory.blcklst.com)
On women, and empathy, and con games (robertjacksonbennett.wordpress.com)


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Photo courtesy of The Times

Okay, I think I’ve gotten to the bottom of it—the question everyone keeps asking writers: Where do you get your ideas?

This is huge, people. I think it may very well be studied in psychology classes for years to come. Let me warn you, though. There’s no actual explanation for how the trick is done. That’s a brain thing, and I’m no neuroscientist. I can only tell you that it does happen.

Source Material

I was in the UK all last week, and one morning I was having breakfast at Pret A Manger, innocently reading The Times. Flipping through the pages, I came upon this story.

“Rise of mini-breaks puts the two-week family holiday in the shade”

Nice photo, right? Perfectly innocent. The article talks about how the typical two-week summer holiday is becoming a thing of the past, with families opting for “mini-breaks” of 3-4 days due to busy schedules, etc.

So far so good.

The Trigger

The photo was the actual trigger—not the accompanying story. I started thinking about my own family. We’ve had had some wonderful vacations over the years—mini-holidays, by the way—and I thought about how much I wanted to see to it that when my girls were grown, they would have a hope chest filled with amazing memories that would carry them through life.

Still with me?

Detour Ahead

This is the part where things get interesting. At the risk of obliterating any hope of generating another income stream via a new, dark short story, I will tell you where my brain went next. Ready?

Horror.

That’s right. (Stephen King, are you listening?) Sitting in Pret A Manger, sipping an Americano and perusing The Times, my mind leapt in screaming exuberance from innocent children smiling at the camera to a tale of torment with no redemption, no hope and maybe a glimmer of mercy.

And all in the time it takes to swallow a sip of coffee.

What my brain concocted in those critical few seconds is a short story about a man who gets to experience one last, beautiful memory before he is executed for his crimes. But here’s the kicker—it’s a false memory.

The man in question grew up in a horrible home with abusive parents and no hope for a better life. These are the things that made him who he is. Nevertheless, the State has granted him one last wish before dying—a single memory that would give him a moment of happiness that he could take with him on his way to Hell.

“The Happy Memory”

Jack, a happy child, is celebrating his tenth birthday with this loving parents. After blowing out the candles on his cake, his parents surprise him with a beautiful puppy—a golden retriever who immediately loves Jack to pieces and can’t stop licking his face.

Later, Jack finds himself in bed with the puppy. As a dreamy heaviness weighs on his eyelids, his parents kiss him and wish for him nothing but wonderful things. And once again, they tell him how much they love him.

When Jack awakens, he is a man in his early twenties. Wearing a grey jumpsuit and strapped to a table in a dank room with medical equipment and technicians. There’s a one-way mirror, presumably to allow witnesses to watch the proceedings.

A doctor moves toward him, asking if the memory was pleasant. With tears in his eyes, Jack says that it was, and he thanks the doctor and his staff.

“I’m glad,” the doctor says. “Given your background, we did the best we could to implant a memory that would resonate and stay with you until the end.”

“I never had a dog,” Jack says.

“We know.”

Then the doctor looks at an assistant, holding a large controller with buttons. The doctor nods, and the assistant presses the red button.

“Goodbye, Jack,” the doctor says.

You Tell Me

Let me be clear—I haven’t written this story yet. This early synopsis is a little maudlin, to be honest. I might change the memory to something not as obvious. What I was attempting to do is get the beats down, then add the twist at the end.

And “The Happy Memory” isn’t the best title. I will mostly likely change it when I write the actual short story. But you get the picture.

So what happened? Am I some kind of sicko? Of course not—at least, I don’t think so. No, I’m a writer. It’s how I’m wired. Sue me.

Remember, I didn’t ask to go to that dark place. I was happily reading the paper, and thwap! It just happened, as it often does when I’m in a conversation with someone, or I’m watching a movie. Or just reading the paper.

So, let’s recap:

1. Exposure to the source material.

2. The Trigger—perhaps tied to something already deep in the unconscious.

3. Detour.

I can’t explain writing any simpler than that. The rest is just work—writing, rewriting and polishing. I challenge other writers who are reading this to document the genesis of one of their own ideas. It should be an interesting conversation.

Related articles

Is All Writing Autobiographic? (thepoeticsproject.com)
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Am I a writer? (zrjoseph.wordpress.com)


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By Dianne Harman

Here is a guest post from my colleague Dianne Harman, author of Blue Coyote Motel and Tea Party Teddy, as well as the forthcoming Coyote in Provence. Today, Dianne discusses something I care a lot about. Something we all struggle with on a daily basis. Yep, it’s that cruel mistress known as digital marketing.

These are interesting times for writers. Traditional publishing houses are shrinking, self-publishing is growing, and there are more books being published than ever before. The challenge becomes: how do we sell them?

When my debut novel was ready to be published, I met with a man who had written several novels. He told me the wave of the future was in digital marketing. He said I had to have a presence there and suggested that I get set up immediately on Facebook and Twitter. I’d actively avoided those things, thinking they were nothing more than time sucks.

About the same time I’d mentioned to a friend of ours who owned a high end hotel in Newport Beach, California, that my book was about to be published. He said he’d like to buy twenty-five for his hotel gift shop. My husband thought that would be a great venue for selling and suggested I call on all the hotels along the Southern California coast that had gift shops. The more I thought about it, the more resistant I became to the idea of spending my time hoping some hotel would buy a few books or take them on consignment. Instead, I decided it was time to get serious about the digital world of marketing.

I set up a Facebook account and then went on to Twitter. I remember looking at both of them wondering what was next. Who would possibly be interested in what I would have to say and what would I say? How would I go about getting friends and followers? Well, one thing led to another and it turned out be pretty easy.

Once I had some friends and followers, I was advised to look for groups to get involved with on Facebook, which I did. I joined several and once in a while would add something, hoping I was being relevant. Many groups later (I think I belong to 28 now) and many friends later, Facebook has been one of the best things I’ve done in marketing. I’ve learned, shared and gotten answers to so many questions. Now I have over 1,200 friends on my main page and an author page with over 600 followers. Does this mean I post to each group every day? Of course not. There are several groups that always seem to have relevant information and those I follow. The others I put on “no notification” so my email isn’t clogged and I check in with them from time to time.

Someone else told me that it was important to get a lot of followers on Twitter so I could let them know what was happening with my books and anything else I thought might be of interest to them. When I hit the 2,000 mark, I signed up for a monthly program which allowed me to go beyond the 10% new follower requests. I’m now close to 17,000 followers. Through one of the Facebook groups, I belong to a Triberr group which amplifies what I post on my blog to gargantuan numbers, far more than I could reach on my own. Yeah, I did have to set up a web page and I blog once or twice a week.

And not to be overlooked is Goodreads. I joined that, set up an author page, put my books on it and joined groups. I now have close to 5,000 friends on it and I do pretty much the same thing with it as I do with Facebook – monitor the groups where my sharing and theirs is relevant. Blue Coyote Motel was even a Goodreads Psychological Thriller Book of the Month. I doubt it would have happened if I hadn’t had a presence there. Plus, people in that group are constantly asking me when the sequel will be out. This morning, I posted the cover for the sequel, Coyote in Provence, and said it would be out within the month. Again, if I hadn’t been active in Goodreads, who would care about a sequel?

Now the big thing seems to be Google+. I’ve read a number of articles indicating that this social media will be even more important than Facebook. I’m doing the same thing on it as I did on the others, personal page, groups and relevant monitoring.

So once all these are set up, how do they help? Although I’ve read that a person needs to see the title of a book seven times before they buy it, I do try to keep the information about my books balanced with other things and something seems to be working. The two books of mine which have been published, Tea Party Teddy and Blue Coyote Motel, have both been Best Sellers on Amazon. Does it take time to monitor these social networks and build a presence? Of course. I easily spend two to four hours a day doing this. But for me it beats cold calling on hotels! Plus I’m motivated by one very relevant thing – no one is going to find my books under a rock. I honestly am not sure I would have sold more than a handful to friends and family if it had not been for these outlets.

Bottom line. Do I believe in digital marketing? Absolutely!

 

An Award Winning Best Seller, Blue Coyote Motel was chosen as a quarterfinalist in Amazon’s Breakthrough Novel Award contest in the mystery/thriller category as well as a Goodreads Psychological Thriller Book of the Month. Blue Coyote Motel is a suspenseful love story which begins in the barrios of Southern California and spans the globe in such diverse locations as Provence, South America, and the Himalayas.

“In Native American folklore, Blue Coyote means ‘turning in the darkness,’ and that’s just what this comprehensive work will have you doing; tossing and turning as you wonder if the very air you’re breathing is just air, or something more sinister.”

Visit Dianne at her website, www.DianneHarman.com, and read her blog at dianneharman.com/blog/.

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