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Travel Essays: Your Inner Wanderer at Large in the World

Posted on July 2, 2015 by

by Teresa Cutler-Broyles

In 1987 I attended a writers’ conference in San Diego, California, and one of the most engaging speakers was a travel writer who spoke in big words about the romance and excitement of a travel writing career—the free flights, the scrumptious food, the exciting experiences and exotic people. Immediately, I decided that’s what I wanted to do with my life. I bought magazines with travel articles and studied them all, I sent query letters to all the right people, I stole all the in-flight magazines I could get my hands on…sure that all it would take to be a travel writer was my desire to do it.

Alas, that didn’t actually work, and it wasn’t until 1992 that I wrote my first travel piece, a little essay about an art gallery in New York City I’d discovered as I wandered through the city on vacation. It was published locally in Albuquerque, in a small publication called Women’s Voices. Since then I have steadily published travel pieces over the years, and I have learned a few things along the way.

A quick note is necessary here: travel writing comes in many forms, many of them based on information—giving a reader a basis he or she needs when visiting a place—from The Ten Must-see Museums, to The Five Best Restaurants, to How to Find the Best Shopping, How to Avoid the Worst Tourist Traps, What Roads to Take, What Not to Do, What’s New in Miami or Paris or Minsk, and so on. These kinds of travel articles are less about emotion and connection than are travel essays, in which your emotion, your memories, your personal experience come into play. And travel essays are where a writer will build a devoted audience, readers who wait for the next published piece and who will line up to buy the book that comes out of them.

Travel essays are harder to write than how-to or must-see articles; instead of gathering information, organizing it and writing it up, you must be willing to let the reader in to the part of you that no one gets to see, and open up the secrets you don’t normally share with anyone. Travel essays are about putting yourself into the piece. Readers are far more likely to read, enjoy, and want to read more of an author’s work if that author has connected with them on an emotional level.

This connection with a reader is more than talking about how happy or sad a place makes you feel, or how full of joy and excitement you are to be there. It’s more than telling a reader how delicious or terrible a particular meal was, or that the streets in Rome are loud. It is all those things, and it’s also about you.

How do you feel when you’re in Rome, or New York, or the mountains of Montana, or the horse show in Spain? What memories do the sounds of the sea or the roar of the subway bring up? What do you feel as you eat the cookie baked by the corner baker that tastes like the ones your grandmother used to make? What half-remembered childhood dreams—or future hopes—do the sounds of children playing in the park in London or the local zoo bring to mind, and how does that affect what you do next? These are the moments travel essays explore. They’re hard to find at first and sometimes we must wait for them, but they happen and when they do we must capture them for our readers as well as ourselves.

None of us travels in a vacuum. We bring with us our expectations of the place, our hopes of what we will see, our frustrations at our jobs, our desires to escape or to discover or to lose. None of us travels without learning and coming back with something we didn’t have when we left. Often it comes in a revelation, engendered by our encounters with new people and places and food and sounds. Sometimes it doesn’t happen until we return. And sometimes it is the moment of writing about our travels that the revelation occurs.

Whenever it happens, it is that essence we must learn to capture and it is in the moment we impart that essence to others that is the magic of writing travel essays.

If you are wondering how to do this, the best advice I have is—in the unforgettable words of my first college writing professor—“just write.” There are no secrets that are more important than that: just write. As you travel, write the mundane—where you go, what you see, what you do, who you talk to. And write the next layer—what you felt when you saw, did, talked. And then dive deeper and explore those emotions, the memories they evoke, the moments they bring forth.

And then trust that when you write about your journey, all of that will coalesce into a beautiful essay that captures both place and personal, both out there and inside. When you can pull readers in to your heart and let them mingle with all those elements, and then let them back out into the world with this new perspective, you will have succeeded in creating a piece of writing that will keep them coming back for more. You will have indeed tapped into the romance and excitement and wonder that is writing travel essays.

Now, where are you going—and can we come, too?

Teresa Cutler-Broyles is a local Albuquerque writer who has published professionally since 1992. She writes short fiction, novels, travel essays and nonfiction pieces for both print and online venues. Her small book of travel essays, A Dream that Keeps Returning, is available on Amazon and through her website, and her YA novel, One Eyed Jack, is available on Amazon as well. Her upcoming historical novel set in 1570 Italy will be available in early 2016.

She teaches in the Film, Peace Studies, and American Studies departments at the University of New Mexico (UNM); at the Umbra Institute in Perugia, Italy during the summers; at UNM Continuing Education; and with the Story Circle Network online.

Teresa runs TLC (travel/literature/culture) Writing Workshops, and Hero’s Journey Tours, in Italy; upcoming dates are May and October, 2016. Visit her website for more information: tlcwritingtours.com or herosjourney-italy.com, or send her an email: teresa_intrepid@yahoo.com.

This article was originally published in the May 2012 issue of SouthWest Sage and is reprinted here by permission of the author.

10 Stages of Writing Achievement

Posted on June 30, 2015 by

by Sherri Burr

How do you determine when you are making progress as a writer? I submit that there are at least 10 stages to measuring writing achievement.

Stage 1: Conceptualize an Idea
Ideas emerge from an infinite number of sources, from reading books and going to movies to walking with friends or dreaming. When you get a promising idea, write it down and rejoice because your imagination is working.

Stage 2: Express the Idea
Copyright law protects the expression of ideas, but not the ideas themselves. Your reward for fixing your ideas in a permanent form, such as an article for a magazine or a chapter in a book, is that your work is automatically copyrightable. You also have the option to place copyright notice (© 2015 by writer) on your work or register it with the U.S. Copyright Office at www.copyright.gov.

Stage 3: Expose Your Writing
Sending your work to magazine editors, agents, book publishers, or print on demand websites indicates you are ready to share your words with the world. You must risk rejection to reap rewards.

Stage 4: Receiving Personalized Rejection Letters
There are three types of rejection: (1) silence; (2) form letters; and (3) personalized rejection letters. You learn to be grateful for the third because they signify that your work resonated enough with outside sources willing to spend time telling you how to fix it or recommend another publication. If the rejection letter is nasty, use it as inspiration and ultimately get the last laugh.

Stage 5: Acceptance with No Pay
Some writers start out by publishing works in newsletters connected to social networks. This accomplishes the goal of seeing your words in print.

Stage 6: Paid Enough for Coffee at Starbucks
When you receive that first check, no matter how small, celebrate and dance to the music. I once received a check for $4. Do you cash or frame a $4 check? I recommend cashing it because it proves that you are indeed in the business of writing. Count the $4 as income on your Schedule C and deduct all your writing related expenses.

Stage 7: Paid Enough to Afford a Meal
When the checks come in for $50 or hundreds of dollars, you’ve attained another milestone. Treat a friend to lunch or a loved one to a gourmet dinner. Toast your success!

Stage 8: Paid Enough to Fund a Vacation
If you grossed enough revenue to fund a vacation, you’ve climbed to another echelon of freelance writers. Enjoy your trip.

Stage 9: Paid Enough to Live On
You’ve truly arrived as a creative person when you can live on the proceeds. Writers at this level often have steady gigs as columnists, contribute to a number of publications, write books, or all of these. Since you now benefit from a steady income flow, be careful to mind your expenses and do not spend more than you earn.

Stage 10: New York Times Best Selling Author
Congratulations, you’ve hit the jackpot by joining the likes of John Grisham, David Baldacci, and Janet Evanovich. When your writing income substantially exceeds your living expenses, it’s time to think seriously about giving back. David Baldacci (Absolute Power, The Camel Club) and his wife started the Wish You Well Foundation to increase literacy rates in this country and abroad. Whatever your cause, you can really make a difference. Ultimately, that’s what the writing life is all about.

Sherri Burr is the Regents’ Professor of Law at the University of New Mexico School of Law where she teaches Entertainment Law, Intellectual Property Law, and Art Law. A graduate of Mount Holyoke College, Princeton University, and the Yale Law School, she has authored or co-authored 20 books, including A Short and Happy Guide to Financial Well-Being (West Academic, 2014). Sherri is also a long-time member of SouthWest Writers and a regular contributor to the organization’s newsletter SouthWest Sage.

This article was originally published in the December 2007 issue of SouthWest Sage and is reprinted here by permission of the author.

An Interview with Author Larry Greenly

Posted on June 25, 2015 by

Larry Greenly brings a diverse background to his writing life, having been a physics teacher, a civil engineer, and a doctor of chiropractic before beginning a career as a writer and editor over 25 years ago. His YA narrative biography, Eugene Bullard: World’s First Black Fighter Pilot (NewSouth Books, 2013) was named a 2015 Booklist Top Ten Multicultural Nonfiction Book for Youth, won a Gold Medal in the 2014 National Moonbeam Children’s Book Awards, won Best Young Adult Book in the 2014 NM/AZ Book Awards, was a finalist in the SCBWI Southwest Region Crystal Kite Award, earned a starred review from the American Library Association (ALA), and earned a recommendation from Voices of Youth Advocates (VOYA). When not serving on the SWW board of directors or judging fiery food competitions, Larry can be found tickling the ivories at Chez Axel Restaurant in Albuquerque.

Give us your elevator pitch for Eugene Bullard: World’s First Black Fighter Pilot.
It’s the story of Georgia-born Eugene Bullard who fought in the Lafayette Flying Corps in WWI, but was not allowed to fly for his own country because of the color of his skin. A hero in France, he’s virtually unknown in this country.

What do you hope readers will take away from your book?
First, I’d like readers to experience what an amazing man Eugene Bullard was. His exploits and dogged perseverance in spite of never-ending racial discrimination are enough to make anyone’s jaw drop. Second, but no less important, I’d like readers to know how insidious and stupid racial discrimination is. It makes this country hypocritical to proclaim “all men are created equal” and then make minorities less equal even if it hurts this country’s own self-interest. Take, for example, this letter:

Dear Sir: Through the most unfortunate circumstances, your application was allowed to be completed because of our ignorance of your race. At the present time the United States Army is not training any except members of the White race for duty as pilots of military aircraft. ~ U.S. Air Corps letter, 1940

Not long afterward, the Tuskegee Airmen black fighter squadron was formed. Nicknamed the “Red Tails,” they performed heroically. And many bomber crews owe their lives to those skilled and daring pilots. Nevertheless, racial discrimination in the United States kept the squadron segregated from the rest of the Air Corps. The Red Tails were even filmed only in black and white, while other squadrons were filmed in color.

What unique challenges did this work pose for you?
The most frustrating aspect was getting agents and editors to read my manuscript or even understand the point of my book. The response I hated most was, “Never heard of him.” Did they want me to write another book about Abe Lincoln? But I believed in my book and felt it was “pearls before swine” for those kinds of people. Ultimately, I took a lesson from Eugene Bullard himself and persevered. I knew someday someone would publish my book. But I didn’t realize it would take three years to find a publisher and two more years to get the book into print.

What was the most rewarding aspect of putting Eugene Bullard together?
When I was writing the book, I was totally immersed and living it in my head. At the time it was like living in two universes. I gained a new appreciation of WWI and how nasty it really was. My goal of having Eugene Bullard recognized by his own country is finally being reached. I even nominated him for a U.S. postage stamp; I’m crossing my fingers as the 100th anniversary of WWI starts this summer.

What are you most happy with, and what do you struggle with most, in your writing?
My biggest struggle is facing a blank page and somehow writing down all the ideas and data swirling around in my head in some semblance of order. But once I have a first draft, I’m able to edit fearlessly and not fret about it. Chop, chop, chop.

Looking back to the beginning of your writing career, what do you know now that you wished you’d known then? Is there anything you would have done differently?
Like most writers, I always felt “I could write a better book than that.” Rather late in life, I got a chance to co-author a medical piece for a professional journal. The writing bug bit. I read everything I could about the art of writing, and soon afterward I was on the editorial board of that journal. I continued writing magazine articles on myriad topics (I figured if I was interested in something, someone else would be, too). Probably the only things I would change would be to write a book sooner and pursue the overall craft of writing much earlier.

How has the creativity and discipline you employ as a musician (or music itself) helped you in your writing journey?
I think of writing and music as complementary opposites: left brain for writing and right brain for music, although good writing has a rhythm, just like music. After writing for a while, I take a break and tickle the ivories to recharge my mental batteries. I sincerely believe that reading music has helped me in rapidly reading and sifting through research. Piano music requires you to read and instantly interpret music for both hands, even looking at notes that are ahead.

What advice do you have for discouraged writers?
Discouragement is part of the writing game. So is perseverance. And perseverance will eventually win (think Thomas Edison). My advice:

Keep honing your craft.
Join a critique group and learn to take criticism; after all, they’re readers, and writers need readers.
Realize your writing isn’t sacred and not to be changed in any way; remember, you can’t see mistakes in your own writing, you’re too close.
Don’t give up.

KL Wagoner (writing as Cate Macabe) is the author of This New Mountain: a memoir of AJ Jackson, private investigator, repossessor, and grandmother. She has a new speculative fiction blog at klwagoner.com and writes about memoir at ThisNewMountain.com.

Misused Words: Farther/Further, Few/Less, That/Which

Posted on June 23, 2015 by

by Dodici Azpadu

Most standard grammar texts include a section of pairs of words that are frequently misspelled and misused. If you are in doubt about a usage, look it up. You can’t rely on the computer grammar checker.

One pair of words frequently misused is farther/further. The guidelines are simple, but the applications can be tricky. The rule of thumb is farther refers to distance. If distance is not an issue, further refers to quantity or degree.

According to Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary (11th edition), however, farther/further are often used interchangeably as adverbs when spatial, temporal, or metaphorical distance is involved. That liberty is part of the historical usage of this pair. Standard English follows the guideline about distance or degree.

Nothing could be farther from the truth. [Correct]
How much farther is the swimming hole? [Correct]
Your support will further her career. [Correct]
There is no further discussion. [Correct]

A second pair of frequently misused words is few/less. The rule of thumb is that if you can count the persons or things in question, use few. If you cannot count the items, use less.

Few of the graduating class could afford the trip. [Correct]
Less candy is better for your diet. [Correct]

Trusting again to the Merriam-Webster source, less is likely to modify collective nouns, mass nouns, or nouns denoting an abstract whole. Fewer applies to matters of numbers and modifies plural nouns. Although grammar purists dislike interchanging few and less, less can modify plural nouns when distance or sums of money are involved.

Less also appears in a few fixed phrases such as:
. . . less than 100 miles
. . . an investment of less than $20,000
. . . in 25 words or less

This explanation is less than helpful. [Correct]
Take a few cookies and forget about it. [Correct]

That and which are often used incorrectly depending on the phrase or clause they introduce. If you are speaking about persons, avoid that or which. Persons take who.

The boy which the coach picked was tall. [Incorrect]
The boy that the coach picked was tall. [Incorrect]
The boy who the coach picked was tall. [Correct]

Notice, however, a group of people can take that.

The teams that coaches like win games. [Correct]

In addition to this caution, use that when the phrase or clause attached to it is restrictive or essential to the meaning. If the modifier is essential, do not use a comma with it.

Trained dogs, that sniff for drugs, are essential for law enforcement. [Incorrect]

The phrase that sniff for drugs is essential to the type of dog referred to, restricting the dogs to those trained for sniffing drugs and excluding other types of dogs such as dogs trained to roll over.

Trained dogs that sniff for drugs are essential for law enforcement. [Correct]

If the modifier is nonrestrictive or not essential, use which and use a comma to separate it from whatever it modifies.

New Orleans which is my favorite city is below sea level. [Incorrect]

Which is my favorite city is not essential to a sentence regarding the location of New Orleans at sea level. Therefore, it needs commas to set it off.

New Orleans, which is my favorite city, is below sea level. [Correct]

You will occasionally see which used in a restrictive manner, but the rule of thumb is relatively easy to remember.

Some sources about usage are prescriptive; they explain what should be done. Some sources are descriptive; they explain what is actually in use at a specific time. Writers should make friends with their dictionaries and grammar texts in order to make educated decisions about the sources they favor.

Dodici Azpadu, MFA, PhD is a novelist, short story writer, and poet. Her fiction publications include: Saturday Night in the Prime of Life and Goat Song (Aunt Lute/Spinsters Ink) and subsequently Onlywoman (London, England). Living Room (2010) and Traces of a Woman (2014), both by Neuma Books, are available as ebooks. She’s currently at work on a novel, tentatively titled Living Lies.

Her poetry publications include Wearing the Phantom Out (2013) and Rumi’s Falcon from Neuma Books. Individual poems have appeared in Malpais Review, Adobe Walls, ContraACultura (online), Parnassus, Sinister Wisdom, Latuca, The Rag, and The Burning Bush. Her work has also been anthologized in Centos: A Collage of Poems and Hey Pasean!
Dodici teaches “The Joy of Poetry” and “Craft of Creating Writing” classes through University of New Mexico’s Osher Lifelong Learning.

This article was originally published in the August 2011 issue of SouthWest Sage and is reprinted here by permission of the author.

Finding My Writer’s Voice

Posted on June 18, 2015 by

by Olive Balla

Science tells us no two humans are exactly alike, that each of us is a distinctive amalgamation of DNA and life experiences. It follows, then, that inside every writer lives a one-of-a-kind Voice, a Voice I believe resides not only in the brain, but in the gut. And it’s never too late to find it.

Searching for my Voice as a writer has been an interesting process. It has not been as easy as I thought it would be, but after nearly twenty years of plugging away, some things are finally beginning to click. My writer’s Voice is making herself heard. And it’s been an amazing trip of self-discovery, albeit one that is taking place late in my life.

I always assumed clever writing to be just a matter of focusing one’s mental faculties. I thought anyone plopped down into the right scenery could crank out creative, imaginative stuff that people would clamor to read. Cool stuff, the warp and woof of which open up new neural pathways in the reader’s brain, the cadence of which draws the reader in and compels him to better himself, or the cocoon of which offers solace to one overwhelmed with the pain that life inflicts upon the living.

But from the moment I first put my fingers on the keys of my laptop, I realized that was a false hypothesis. Great writing is not merely the result of a writer’s ability to wax cerebral. Great writing springs from the craftsman’s ability to connect with his unique Voice.

Early on in my writing career, I tended to pattern my own writing after that of some of my favorite authors. I mimicked Agatha Christie, Helen McInnes, and even Isaac Asimov. It was as if I could plug into a writer’s version of one of those electronic voice filtering gizmos. You know, the things that have the ability to make a five-year-old girl sound like James Earl Jones.

And why not ape the best of the best? After all, the greats became so by opening their writer Voices full-throttle. Copying their Voices saved me the trouble of having to search for my own.

I soon discovered, however, that the trouble with writing in someone else’s Voice is that it pushed my own into the periphery. But as is the way of things, even as I felt secure in my not-me mask, my authentic Voice would stubbornly make herself heard. And the more often I glimpsed her, the more determined I became to give her air.

Pursuant to that end, I bought some books guaranteed to catapult my writer’s Voice into up-and-running mode. Each author offered a list of tried-and-true strategies to get one’s metaphorical peristaltic muscles moving “in no time at all.”

One interesting how-to suggested I dress, act, and talk like one of my characters for a day. Another told me to flood my senses with potpourri and my favorite instrumental music while writing. Yet another commanded me to meditate on the meaning of life while staring at my navel.

I did all that. And I found it interesting. However, while those strategies may be effective devices for some, they didn’t work for me. My explain-everything-so-the-kids-can-understand-and-pass-the-test inner teacher didn’t seem to want to let go of the controls.

That is, until I discovered something called free writing. Here’s how it works: I sit comfortably at my desk, a pen and pad of paper in front of me. I clear my mind as much as possible, and then write whatever thoughts pour forth. I don’t censor anything. Sometimes I write the same word several times, and sometimes the result is meaningless drivel. But often, fun and exciting things pop onto the page. Things I’ve then built into stories–uniquely my own.

According to a Dutch proverb, “We get too soon old and too late smart.” While there’s something to that, it’s encouraging to note that Mary Wesley didn’t get published until she was 71; Colonel Harlan Sanders didn’t start up his first Kentucky Fried Chicken establishment until he was 66; the famous American artist known as Grandma Moses didn’t begin painting until in her seventies, and Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote and published her Little House books when in her sixties.

So, my evenings and weekends are spent spelunking into the caverns inhabited by my Voice, relishing the tasty morsels she leaves in the pathway for me to follow. And I, in turn, saw away at the chains forged by the fear of being seen as different, fear of making mistakes, fear of rejection, and the fear that it’s too late. Because, it’s never too late. It’s NEVER too late.

Olive Balla, author of suspense novel An Arm and a Leg, is mother of 3, grandmother to 13, great-grandmother of 4, a retired educator, and part-time professional musician. Having been everything from secretary at a used car dealership, a university student, and a high school Spanish teacher, Balla states her characters are, in part, amalgamations of people she’s met. Living with her husband Victor in the Albuquerque area, she spends her spare time in a small woodworking shop designing and building everything from breadboxes and wine racks, to a porch bench. Visit her website at omballa.com.

This article was originally published in the April 2012 issue of SouthWest Sage and is reprinted here by permission of the author.

Writing Verse Novels

Posted on June 16, 2015 by

by Caroline Starr Rose

Have you ever considered writing a novel in verse? Verse novels are stories told through unrhymed poetry. If the format sounds interesting, here are some things to keep in mind:

Is the subject matter right for poetry?
Some topics lend themselves more easily to poetry than others. Some subjects refuse to be written as prose. While many stories can and will work as poetry, ask yourself if this medium is the best way to tell your story. If not, I’d advise you to take another approach.

Is the protagonist right for poetry?
Often (though not always) verse novels are told from a very close first-person point of view. Such writing calls for a lot of introspection on the protagonist’s part. If this isn’t your character, it’s best, in my opinion, to avoid verse.

Can you sustain the intensity required to write a novel this way?
Sometimes writing in verse feels really natural. Other times the close-to-the-bone nature of poetry is hard to sustain.

If you are someone who can knock off thousands of words at one sitting, verse novels are going to hurt. Word counts will more realistically be in the hundreds. Entire novels are usually under 20,000 words.

Can each poem stand alone?
Each poem in a verse novel must capture one moment, scene, idea, mark of change in your character’s life. Poems should also be able to function separately from the rest of the story.

Does each poem contribute to the whole?
When I worked through my own verse novel, I kept a quilt in mind, treating each poem like its own square of fabric. Each patch had to be able to function separately while at the same time contribute to the whole. I trusted that if certain patterns and shades in my story quilt were repeated (think themes or story strands), eventually the inter-connectedness would surface–a much more organic approach than is normally taken with prose.

Vary the length of poems
Some scenes flow, some end abruptly. Some thoughts wander, some jab. Use this knowledge to your advantage in composing your poetry.

Vary the length of lines
Are there key phrases or words at the heart of your poem? Play with the way you arrange words on the page to determine what look best “speaks” the poem.

Within your poem, group similar ideas as stanzas or allow key lines to stand alone.

Structure
Because poetry is both visual and aural, let the structure of your work communicate to your reader your protagonist’s emotional state.

Is she frightened? Think of how this feeling looks structurally (little punctuation? words tightly packed together?).

Is he in a hurry? How can you express this on the page?

You can also use specific types of poetry (sonnets, for example), as Pat Brisson did with her book, The Best and Hardest Thing. In writing about Sylvia Plath (Your Own, Sylvia), author Stephanie Hemphill chose to mirror several of Plath’s poems, giving her readers a sense of the poet’s style, subject matter, intensity, and character.

A sample poem from May B.

I play a game inside my head,¹counting plum trees that dot a creek bed,²rabbits that scatter at the sound of wagon wheels,
clouds that skirt the sky.
For hours, that is all
and grass
always grass³in different shades and textures⁴like the braids in a rag rug.

Miss Sanders told us that lines never end,
and numbers go on forever.
Here,⁵in short-grass country,
I understand infinity. ^6,7

Verse novels aren’t books with strange line breaks. They are stories best communicated through the language, rhythm, imagery and structure of poetry. Don’t be afraid to experiment to see if your story might work within this unique genre.

_________________

¹Much of the story is told through thought, not dialogue. We have a real sense of May’s internal life.
²Verse allows for the opportunity to play with language. Here’s a bit of rhyme.
³Repetition for emphasis.
⁴Poetry should be visual and figurative language fresh, even unexpected.
⁵Line break for emphasis.
⁶The two stanzas mirror each other in appearance, reinforcing the visual aspect of experiencing poetry.
⁷Notice the poem is about place and uses measurements/counting as a way to make sense of things. The few trees and rabbits are a contrast to infinity. The poem fits into the overall story–May leaving for a new place–but can also stand alone as a poem about the short-grass Kansas prairie.

Caroline Starr Rose was named a Publishers Weekly Flying Start Author for her debut novel, May B., which was an ALA-ALSC Notable Children’s Book. She is also the author of two books released this year, Blue Birds, and Over in the Wetlands: A Hurricane-On-The-Bayou Story. Caroline spent her childhood in the deserts of Saudi Arabia and New Mexico, camping by the Red Sea in one and eating red chile in the other. She has taught social studies and English, and worked to instill in her students a passion for books, an enthusiasm for experimenting with words, and a curiosity about the past. She lives in New Mexico. Visit her at www.carolinestarrrose.com.

This article was originally published in the January 2012 issue of SouthWest Sage, and is reprinted here by permission of the author.

An Interview with Author Olive Balla

Posted on June 11, 2015 by

Olive Balla is a great-grandmother, retired educator, part-time professional musician, and novelist. Her love of storytelling began as a child with inventing stories—especially ghost stories—to entertain her friends. After she got serious about writing, it took a journey of almost seven years to see her debut mystery/suspense novel in print. An Arm and a Leg was published by The Wild Rose Press in 2014. For two years of that journey, Olive shared her views on the writing life in a monthly column for SouthWest Sage. She continues in that vein in her “Life Lesson” series on her website/blog at OMBalla.com.

What is your elevator pitch for An Arm and a Leg? Albuquerque divorcee Frankie O’Neil dreams of having what she calls a normal life. But given her penchant for making the worst possible decisions about men, the fact that she hoards food, and hears the voices of long-dead relatives who hint at a dark family secret, her life is anything but normal. Then her brother is shot before her eyes just minutes after leaving an oddly-shaped package in her freezer, and the police suspect her of murder. Ordered not to leave town, Frankie must deal with her dead relatives’ determination to be part of her life, try not to fall in love with the deputy who suspects her of being a cannibalistic serial killer, and prove her innocence by finding the real killers—ideally before they kill her. And if a death threat written in children’s chalk beside a strangled bird on her front porch, a speeding car intent on running her down, and flames destroying her home are any indication, time is running out.

What sparked the initial story idea for An Arm and a Leg? I was sitting in a café with my husband near a table of young men. Around bites of egg and between guffaws, they chatted about a recent camping trip they’d taken to White Sands. One suddenly announced, “So that’s where we decided to bury Mike.” My undoubtedly horrified expression gave my kibitzing away, and the young man laughed and explained they’d buried their friend up to his neck in the sand. I was relieved at the disclaimer, but the images that initial comment evoked kept chewing at me until I had no choice but to write my own version.

Which point of view did you enjoy writing the most, the protagonist’s or the antagonist’s? Both perspectives drew me in. But I’d say the darkness of my antagonist’s soul called out to my lizard brain more than the angst in my protagonist’s. No one gets to be my age, without sustaining some fairly sizeable dings and dents. Writing about evil folks getting their due is immensely satisfying.

What unique challenges did this work pose for you? Amazing how difficult it was to plant my butt in the chair and write every day. About the time I’d get focused, life would throw some interruption in my face that demanded my “immediate attention.” That, combined with hundreds of ways to procrastinate, is why a novel that should have been completed in one year took me seven.

Why do you write in the mystery/suspense genre? In sixth grade, I managed to get my hands on a yellow-paged, worn copy of one of Richard Prather’s Detective Shell Scott paperbacks. It was the first non-school, non-religious book I’d ever read, and as such would have been thrown out had it been discovered. Hiding it under my pillow during the day, pulling it out at night, and reading it under the tent of my bedcovers by the light of a flashlight was a delicious, addicting act. The book not only mesmerized me, but planted seeds that were later watered and fed by authors like Agatha Christie, Helen McInnes, Isaac Asimov, and Louis L’Amour.

What are you most happy with, and what do you struggle with most, in your writing? I’m most happy during that initial rush of creativity, when the skeleton of a story pours itself onto my laptop screen almost of its own volition. I struggle most with my internal editor, who never saw a sentence she liked, or of which she approved. Ever.

What do you want to be known for as an author? Her stories helped lighten the load. That would be a neat epitaph.

Who do you wish you were more like in your own writing? For several years I tried writing like some of my favorite authors. But, like full-fat ice cream vs. non-fat, the resulting flavors were neither satisfying, nor real. My goal is to fully develop my own voice.

What role, if any, does music play in your creative process? Music has always been integral to my psyche – I wrote my first piano piece when I was ten. I often listen to music either just before, or during my writing time. Nothing like a little Twisted Sister to get me riled up.

Share a bit of your journey to publication and how you chose your publisher. My journey has most likely been a fairly common one. I thought, erroneously as it turns out, that I needed to have an agent in order to get into print. Had I continued to pursue major publishers, that would have been the case—most of them will not even look at un-agented work, nor will they accept unsolicited manuscripts. After I expectantly queried dozens of agents, was either rejected or got no response at all, I rewrote my pitch and edited my manuscript then sent off the second version, which was also rejected (repeat this cycle countless times). I spent a couple of years tightening, editing, and refining my prose. I found three beta-readers, paid a book doctor to help with my pitch, paid an editor to look at the first twenty pages, and revised some more. I purchased books by James Scott Bell and Noah Lukeman, put their sage advice into practice, went to the Preditors and Editors website (www.pred-ed.com), chose five small-but-reputable publishers and queried them. The result was that within one week I got four contract offers. I chose my publisher based on their reputation (as reflected on the Preditors and Editors site), the number of authors they represent, and what they offered me.

What would you do differently if you were starting your publishing career today? I’d lighten up, not be so hard on myself. In a thousand years, it’ll all be dust anyway. Although Beowulf is still being taught in literature classes, no one even knows who wrote it, or exactly when.

If you had an unlimited budget, how would you spend your money for marketing and promotion of your book? I’d first pay my bills, then print thousands of copies to donate to libraries across the country. Too many people don’t have access to the short-term pain relief brought by submerging oneself in a book. Louis L’Amour pulled me through some pretty dark days.

What projects are you working on now? I have four novels in various stages of development: a sequel and a prequel to An Arm and a Leg, and a couple of futuristic mysteries.

What advice do you have for discouraged writers?

Bumblebee physiology is inconsistent with flight, so instead of flapping their wings up and down like a bird, they wave them in a figure eight pattern. Unwilling to walk from flower to flower, they achieve their goal by working with the laws of physics to find a way to fly. It’s the same with writing: if one avenue doesn’t pan out, find another.
Keep on keeping on. In the words of David Morrell, author of First Blood, if you have something interesting to say, someone will help you say it. But no one’s going to do the work for you.

On Being Woefully Platformless

Posted on June 9, 2015 by

by Bentley Clark

$Out Of One\'s Head, Relax The Brain" courtesy of thaikrit / FreeDigitalPhotos.net$ I first heard the term “writer’s platform” in 2009 at the annual From Start to Sales Writers Conference at UNM Continuing Education in Albuquerque, New Mexico. As I am given to daydreaming, I imagined a café at a London train station populated with authors feverishly writing in poetically tattered Moleskines.

The term “writer’s platform” is now ubiquitous in writing publications and at writer’s conferences. In an effort to educate myself on the matter, I have recently read innumerable articles defining the writer’s platform and attempting to clarify its purpose.

The most concise definition I found comes from Christina Katz:

“Your platform communicates your expertise to others.”

And the purpose of this platform? Well, to get you published, of course. Rumor has it that an effective writer’s platform can market you, your craft and your expertise even whilst you sleep. Almost better than that, it can create a built-in audience for your future publications—an audience that will buy your work without the publisher having to do anything more than typeset your words and print them on paper.

By my count, then, there are really only two elements to an effective writer’s platform: communication and expertise. And while I know that neither of these is a terribly complicated concept, when you throw technology and the information super-highway into the mix, I become bewildered, confused and, quite frankly, creatively constipated.

Communication
Now, communication I get: I can send e-mail and I can operate a cell phone (so long as it isn’t “smart”). Only, that’s not really what any of the articles mean by communication. They are, in fact, referring to this very small, entirely approachable and not the least bit intimidating list:

Websites
Blogs
Guest posts
Tweets
YouTube-style videos
Newsletters
Speaking engagements

Published articles
Media interviews
Social networking
Facebook
Free e-books
Spin-off products
Teaching classes

Look, that’s a lot of work. And, honestly, I am lucky to keep my full-time job, cook an occasional meal, and keep my pets fed while simultaneously publishing one article a month and penning a couple of really bad, really short stories. Of the items on this list, I have: 1) this column; 2) a Twitter account that I don’t use; and 3) a Facebook page that is frequented primarily by family members and high school friends. That’s about 21% of the communication I’m supposed to be putting out there in order to build my platform. That’s failure on anyone’s grade scale.

Expertise
And what exactly am I supposed to be communicating? My expertise, apparently. The thing that sets me apart from other writers. The thing that has landed me my (theoretical) built-in audience: my loyal blog subscribers, Facebook fans, Twitter followers and enlightened students.

Only… I’m not sure I have any expertise. No. Really. I have been racking my brain over this for several weeks. What am I an expert in? I have mastered filling a hot water bottle with boiling water without burning myself. I know a thing or two about baking really delightful popovers. And I can fold a fitted sheet like a pro. But are any of these the expertise that I can build a platform on? I think not. Perhaps I am meant for a platformless life.

For reassurance and guidance, I turn again to Christina Katz:

“In my opinion, it’s a platform connected to a person’s inner reality rather than some clever juxtaposition of external ideas or a volcanic explosion of personality that [is] the most compelling and lasting….”

Well, now, that’s something I can work with. I definitely have an inner reality. It is filled with frilly pillows, empire-waist dresses, china teacups, and string quartets. And goodness knows I wouldn’t begin to know how to cleverly juxtapose external ideas, and I would never want my personality to volcanically explode under any circumstances.

So, in short: I am failing to effectively communicate my indiscernible expertise. But I can be reticent and unfocused and still be successful, right?

One last return to Christina Katz for a much-needed pep talk:

“If you don’t have a mission or a purpose or a raison d’etre, then guess what? No one is going to listen to you. And why should they? There is an awful lot of noise out there and people have personal lives and they can’t spend the entire day staring into their computers waiting for you to say something or inspire them to action or entertain them or whatever it is that your writing sets out to accomplish.”

Argh! I’m doomed! Doomed, I tell you!

BentleyClark125 Bentley Clark isn’t sure whether the phrase is “racking my brain” or “wracking my brain.” You can assist her with the distinction by leaving a comment below.

This article was originally published in the March 2012 issue of SouthWest Sage, and is reprinted here by permission of the author.

Image “Out Of One\’s Head, Relax The Brain” courtesy of thaikrit / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Backstory: TMI (Too Much Information)

Posted on June 4, 2015 by

by Sarah Baker

Some of you may have come into this fantastic world of writing by a logical path; you aced junior high grammar, paid close attention to high school composition instructors, earned degrees in creative writing, and then wrote your first novel. For the rest of us, the whole experience has more closely resembled a headfirst dive into Alice’s rabbit hole.

I started writing fiction on the internet in the mid-’90s, and went to work on my first novel a few years later. Between the time I saved chapter one of “Book One” on my laptop in 1997 and this past year when I signed my twentieth book contract, I learned lessons in ways I wouldn’t want to repeat. I’m still learning lessons daily, but few of them leave as many bruises as those first dozen or so.

One thing I discovered is that we, as writers, tend to share too much information. I don’t mean about ourselves, necessarily, but about our works. When someone asks what you’re working on, they are rarely looking for a detailed outline of your novel. They expect a sentence or two. A paragraph at most. This is especially important to know when the person asking is an editor or agent.

In the same way that you’d never start a pitch to an editor with, “My main character, George, was born in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where he had a normal childhood, even though his father was a little strict, and when he was eighteen, he left for college…,” you don’t want to start your book with everything there is to know about your characters. One of the joys of reading is discovering the hidden parts of a story, the delicious history that motivates characters to do what they’re doing. If you reveal all up front, there are no surprises left, and readers will quickly lose interest.

But loading a manuscript with backstory is natural. We’re excited about our new story; we want to explain everything right away. The tough part—the part that comes with experience—is recognizing backstory and knowing what to remove. Was George convicted of killing his college roommate because he was framed by another student who thought George had witnessed a major drug deal? Don’t tell me in chapter one that George is innocent. Maybe you don’t even want to tell me that George was in prison. Let me guess why he won’t answer questions about his past. Make me worry about Susan when she’s alone with him. You’ll keep me interested.

Equally as important as knowing that you must sprinkle backstory throughout your book, is understanding how to do it. Less is better, and showing is better than telling. Are you ready to divulge that George was in prison? (Disclaimer: I’m not saying this is great writing. These are only examples.) “Metal bars clanged into place. George bolted out of bed, his hands clenched into fists and his heart racing,” will be more effective than telling me, “George had spent fifteen long years in San Quentin. Even after all this time, he still woke to the horror of the door sliding shut on his cell.” While there’s nothing technically wrong with the second excerpt, it lacks the feel of action of the first one.

We, as writers, not only want to tell you everything about our characters, we also want to use all our wonderful research. If George grew up in Albuquerque, would he really be thinking about the fact that Sandia Crest is 10,678 feet high as he’s driving around town? Or that the population was 535,239 in 2010? That would be a little absurd, wouldn’t it? But maybe he would tell Susan, a newcomer, that Sandia is always on the east side of downtown, or that the city is home to about a half-million people. If your character doesn’t have a reason to consider something, don’t force it on your readers. They won’t appreciate it.

The first editor I spoke to about my first manuscript told me my story started in chapter eight. I was hurt and horrified, but realized before long that she was right. I had way too much backstory and no action in the beginning of the book. I feel better now when my own first edit is full of red ink where I’ve sliced away all that extra information.

My advice to relatively new writers? Question every line; be brutal with the red pen. There’s nothing more wonderful than putting together a page turner. And practice a one-paragraph pitch. You never know when you’re going to run into an editor or agent who is looking for your book.

Good luck out there, and enjoy the next Mad Hatter’s tea party.

Sarah H. Baker is the author of more than 20 novels, with publishers ranging from Kensington to Harlequin to small presses. She holds an MS in engineering and works full time, but also writes fiction under three pen names: S. H. Baker, Sarah Storme, and Lydia Parks. The first book in her Dassas Cormier Mystery series, Murder in Marshall’s Bayou (Zumaya Publications, 2009), was recommended for an Edgar Award. Return to Marshall’s Bayou (Siren Audio Studios, 2010) is the full-cast audio version of this first mystery and was a finalist in the Audie Awards. Sarah enjoys sharing her experience with other writers and teaches courses for the University of New Mexico’s Continuing Education Department. Visit her at shbaker.com.

This article was originally published in the September 2012 issue of SouthWest Sage and is reprinted here by permission of the author.

Revising Fiction: 13 Ways to Show Character Emotions, Part 2

Posted on June 2, 2015 by

by Kirt Hickman

Last month we began to look at creative ways in which you can show your characters’ emotions effectively. To recap, we learned to:

1. Use emotional honesty.
2. Convey the source of the emotion.
3. Avoid clichés.
4. Use metaphor.

This only scratches the surface of what you can do. Wherever you see the name of an emotion in your writing, question carefully whether you’re showing the emotion to the reader, or simply telling him about it. Here are more ways to show your characters’ emotions.¹

5. Use Concrete Details

Not bugs, but locusts and flies. Not flowers, but crocuses, pansies, or marigolds. If your character is drinking soda or wine, name the brand (real or fictitious). If she’s reading a book or listening to a song, name it. Choose details that reflect your character’s emotional state.

Consider the following passage, from an early draft of my science fiction novel, Worlds Asunder. This shows Dana McKaughey’s first glimpse of Bill Ryan in the base trauma center after he’s been in a terrible accident.

Tubes and wires ran everywhere, to machines and equipment whose purpose she could only guess at.

Does this passage let you feel what Dana is feeling? No. It shows her ignorance of the equipment sustaining Bill, but it doesn’t convey emotion. Because she’s not familiar with the machines, I can’t describe them by name and function, but I can give details to the extent that she understands them.

Tubes and wires ran everywhere, from his arm, mouth ,nose, chest, and several from beneath a blanket that had been pulled down to his waist. Each connected him to equipment in his headboard.

Meaningless numbers and graphics lit the display. She heard the hollow pump and hiss of a respirator and a series of beeps with the rhythm of a steady heart, but she’d cautioned herself against false hope for too many hours to draw encouragement from the disembodied sounds.

Instead of wires just running everywhere, they now run from specific parts of Bill’s body to equipment in his headboard. Instead of settling for “machines and equipment,” I describe what Dana sees and hears in a manner that reflects her emotions.

6. Use Internal Monologue

This example is from Bill Ryan in Worlds Asunder:

Why couldn’t he share that part of her life? Whenever he tried, she was just responsive enough to make him think he had a chance. But in the end, she always kept him at arm’s length.

But Bill had resolved years ago not to psychoanalyze her behavior. He reminded himself of that pledge now to prevent his mind from slipping into that self-destructive mire of a woman’s emotional logic. Women’s prerogative, he repeated over and over again to make himself believe it. Some days it got to him more than others.

This shows more about his emotional state, and about him as a character, than words like frustration or loneliness could possibly convey.

7. Use Dialog

Consider this example from a critique submission.²

[Ian] reached the table just in time to get the last slice of mushrooms, olives, and green chili, much to the annoyance of his sister.

The author could have used dialog to show the girl’s annoyance.

[Ian] reached the table just in time to get the last slice of mushrooms, olives, and green chili.

“Mom,” Kasey yelled in her most whiney voice. “Ian took the last piece of good pizza.”

“You’re a kid. You’re not even supposed to like these toppings.” Ian made a show of stuffing half the piece into his mouth in a single bite.

“Mom,” Kasey yelled again.

The second passage reveals both characters much more clearly than the first, which simply tells the reader that Kasey is annoyed. The second passage shows, through dialog, how both characters respond to her annoyance.

8. Show Physical Response

The bodies, when he found them, were nothing more than a partial set of scorched bones and ash, incompletely cremated, with a few melted personal effects. Bile filled Chase’s throat and forced him to turn away. God damn it! Nobody was supposed to be in there. The death count was now at six, and Chase had known some of those people. He swallowed the vomit that rose in him, fortified his resolve, and looked again upon the victims. Both skulls remained intact, their bony grins mocking him from the ruins of his investigation. He imagined the perpetrator doing the same from somewhere nearby.

This passage from Worlds Asunder uses the involuntary response of Chase’s body to express his revulsion. Without it, the scene contains some macabre imagery, but it’s emotionally lifeless.

Read the rest of Kirt Hickman’s series:
“13 Ways to Show Character Emotions,” Part 1
“13 Ways to Show Character Emotions,” Part 3

¹Ann Hood, Creating Character Emotions, Story Press Books, 1998.
²Excerpts from critique submissions are reprinted with the permission of the original author.

Kirt Hickman is a technical writer turned fiction author. His books include three sci-fi thriller novels Worlds Asunder (2008), Venus Rain (2010) and Mercury Sun (2014), the high fantasy novel Fabler’s Legend (2011), and the writers’ how-to Revising Fiction: Making Sense of the Madness (2009).

This article was originally published in the July/August 2008 issue of SouthWest Sage, and is reprinted here by permission of the author.