The Write Blocks

Rexburg Signing

2009-11-13T07:33:00.000-08:00

I made a quick trip to and from my home town in Rexburg, Idaho a couple of days ago to do a book signing at BYU-Idaho. It was a lot of fun. Not only did I get to know many people I'd never met before, but a few "old" friends showed up, too. One was Marta Smith, a fellow member of Author's Incognito. Once again I was able to connect her with another writer-friend, Michelle Erickson, who also lives in the area. Michelle was actually my Laurel advisor years and years ago. We connected, in part, through our love of writing. Anyway, they're both in need of a critique group, so I'm hoping this association will help them.

The BIG SURPRISE, though, was a visit from a man I used to go to school with. He, along with several other boys, used to have a nickname for me--in teasing. I was never offended by it, but he took the time to apologize. I must say, I was quite impressed by the good man he seems to have grown into. I'd never thought anything bad about him in those days, but I was so glad to see extra goodness in him now. The funny thing? He wanted me to sign his book as "Thanks for the memories" and then sign it with their nickname for me. No, I don't think I'll share that information with you here.

I'll close with a bit of advise. If you go to BYU-Idaho, try to secure a temporary parking pass ahead of time. Otherwise, you might have to make a long walk. Generally, that's not such a bad thing. I usually enjoy the walk. But if you're wearing a dress and carrying a lot of supplies, it's not quite as fun.

Honestly, though, the signing turned out great, and the BYU-Idaho Bookstore staff couldn't have been nicer or more accommodating. The students, too, for that matter. I'd love to go back.

A Signing and a MISSING Review

2009-11-09T09:49:00.000-08:00

Busy, busy. But it's a fun busy. On Saturday, I and three other authors, Heather Justesen, Linda Chadwick, and Aubrey Mace, participated in a book signing at the Sandy, UT Barnes and Noble. The store was running a charity book fair that day. I had fun talking with a few people I knew and developing relationships with new readers of my book. I'll post pictures on a later post.

I also just learned Connie Hall posted a review of MISSING on November 8 on her blog. This is one of my favorite lines from her post:

"The characters in the book were real and I could picture each scene." I, of course, also enjoyed comments like, "This is an amazing book and I give it a big 10," but that first line tells me I did my job as an author, and she was fully able to step into my story. That means a great deal to me. Thank you, Connie.

A Fun Day!

2009-11-04T20:50:00.001-08:00

Today I paid an author visit to our local middle school where I discussed the topic, "My Path to Publication" with five different English classes. It was a lot of fun, both because I had the chance to associate with old friends (I used to work at the school) and make new friends. I also discovered that many of the students were excited about my book. I don't know if I can express this adequately enough, but there is something truly amazing in knowing that many people are reading and enjoying Missing, my novel! Yes, I've written dozens of articles and stories for magazines, and I know they have influenced an untold number of readers, and I am grateful for that opportunity, but I must say that seeing readers with my book--the middle school library has ten of them!--and hearing they enjoyed it brings a unique kind of pleasure. And gratitude. Thank you, readers. You are awesome!

Just as a side perk--after the successful day, two other teachers asked me to visit their classes next month. Yay!

Now, because this is a how-to-write blog, let me list a few things I learned through my presentation (in no particular order):

1. I initially felt uncomfortable with the idea of talking about myself, but as I prepared, I realized I do have valuable experience to share. Better than that, as I spoke, most of the students really seemed interested. As I've written at the top of the blog, our value and strength is in our individuality.

2. What happens after your book is accepted is a great unknown to students and teachers alike. As authors, we can enlighten them.

3. Listeners like to hear the author read a bit of their book. I hadn't prepared to do this, but the good thing is, I quickly found a short, intriguing section to share, so it turned out well.

4. I brought tootsie rolls. When students asked me questions related to the subject, I gave them one. Some classes asked more questions than others, but they were all so respectful, I gave all a tootsie roll at the end. Note: Generally, this school frowns on teachers, etc., bringing candy to school, so I discussed this idea with the librarian who initially contacted me and she gave her permission to give out tootsie rolls.

5. Try to incorporate humor in your discussion, or at least be prepared to include it as needed.

That's all folks!

An Amazing Night!

2009-10-29T20:50:00.000-07:00

As you can guess by my title, my Opening Night book signing for Missing went really well. Lots of friends, along with a few people I hadn't met before, showed up to buy books and help me celebrate. I had door prize drawings and a few refreshments, but the best part of the entire night was getting to talk to old friends and tell them something about how much they meant to me when I signed their books. I was grateful and humbled by their response. Even my best friend from my childhood, who I haven't seen in several years, made the effort to come. I am a very blessed woman to have so many good friends.

Here are a few pictures.

Members of my critque group, the "golden pens," from left to right. Josi Kilpack, me, Jody Durfee, Becki Clayson. They even took me out to eat afterwards. We went to a Chinese restaurant, since my character, Stacie Cox, investigates inside Victoria, BC's Chinatown.

Preparing for Opening Night

2009-10-19T08:20:00.000-07:00

While I was on a walk this morning, one of my neighbors stopped her car next to me and said, "I read your book. It was good!"

I can't help but appreciate feedback like that, but it was especially buoying today, because the largest chunk of my writing time is still going toward my opening night book signing party at Reflections of Utah in Brigham City, UT. If you haven't heard yet, it's on Thursday, October 22 from 5-7:00 p.m. The address is on my website.

Besides putting together and sending out announcement postcards and working with our local newspaper to announce it, I've been gathering a few door prizes and planning the refreshments. All the items are related to Missing, so they make me smile. I hope my guests will like them, too.

A Blogger Award--TAG!

2009-10-11T19:33:00.000-07:00

I've been feeling a little blue the last couple of days. I know I should be "Over the Top!" with excitement about the release of MISSING--and I am--but I'm nervous , too. It reminds me a bit of when I was the soprano soloist for our local presentation of THE MESSIAH. I felt honored and excited by that opportunity, but so nervous that I'd mess up. No matter how many times I perform, or have performed over the years, I still get nervous. I usually calm down after I get into whatever it is I'm doing--speaking, singing, or performing in some other way, but I haven't yet overcome my initial nerves. Se-la-vi. Sigh.

Anyway, I'm telling you this because I wanted you to see how grateful I was that Josi had awarded and "tagged" me today. Her kindness boosted my spirits, but I have to say . . . whew, that's a lot of questions! But I'll give it my best shot--from the hip. :)

1. Where is your cell phone? In my purse. The problem is, it's on silent, so I'll never know if someone calls me. One of my issues. :)

2. Your hair? Basically clean, but it hasn't been combed since before I went to church this morning.

3. My mother? Beside herself with excitement that my book is coming out.

4. Your father? Calm, wise, good.

5. Favorite food? Way too many to choose from. But the "healthy" one is Maddox's seafood salad.

6. Your dream last night? I was stepping on bugs in a basement, when a daddy long leg suddenly became aggressive and came after me. I ran. It became a boy that looked like Opey Taylor on "Andy Griffith," but still it chased me. I tried to get out of the room, but the door was locked. Finally, the boy shoved a stick that looked like a wand into my gut and held out a daddy long leg. I looked away, but when I looked back, the boy was turning into a giant spider. I woke up then, thank goodness. Hmm. I wonder if I can use this in a fantasy novel?

7. Favorite drink? Mine's boring, like Josi's. It's water.

8. Your dream/goal? A happy family where we've all reached our personal goals.

9. What room are you in? The computer room.

10. Your hobby? Music, reading, watching old movies.

11. Your fear? Heights

12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? With my family in our "finished" house.

13. Where were you last night? At home.

14. Something you aren't. Perfect.

15. Muffins? Too many to choose from, but I usually choose blueberry.

16. Wish list item? Updated software.

17. Where did you grow up? Rexburg

18. Last thing you did? Played Uno with my daughter for FHE.

19. What are you wearing? Blue sweats, green t-shirt covered by a black sweater, blue flip-flops. This is definitely not something to be proud of. Just comfortable. :)

20. Your tv? In the other room. Sadly, it's on, but on mute. What's the point in that?

21. Your pet? A dog, 4 goats, and a bunch of cows. The cows, though named, will eventually be eaten, however.

22. Your friends? Dearer to me than I can express. I wish I was better at letting people know how much I care for them.

23. Your life? Very blessed. Very hectic.

24. Your mood? As I said when I started this post, I'm both excited and nervous, and trying to hold on to that feeling inside me that says everything will be all right.

25. Missing someone? From time to time, I miss those I love but have passed on. Even yesterday, I attended the funeral of a dear "neighbor."

26. Vehicle? CNG cavalier.

27. Something you're not wearing? Socks.

28. Your favorite store? I don't have one. I hate to shop, actually. To me, it's a necessary evil, like cleaning the bathroom.

29. Your favorite color? Blue

30. When was the last time you laughed? A few minutes ago, when my daughter complained because I was winning Uno and she wasn't. I rarely win. She kept asking me what I'd done with her mother.

31. Last time you cried? Yesterday, at the funeral.

32. Your best friend? JC and ny husband.

33. One place that I go over and over? To bed. Every night. If I can help it. Seriously, though, we go to different places all the time so we can see new things.

34. One person who e-mails me regularly? Mostly just groups--facebook, Author's Inc, David Farland, critique group, etc.

35. Favorite place to eat? I have several favorites, though I don't eat out much. Tonight I'll choose--Maddox. :)

Now for the five I've tagged to receive this award:

1. Karen Hoover: For persistence, kindness, and self-assurance in the face of condescension. I won't say when and by whom, but suffice it to know, I was watching, and I was impressed.

2. Cindy Beck: She's a stalwart supporter of her fellow writers and always makes me smile. More than once I've relied on her advice.

3. Nicole Giles: Everything about her says "compassion" and "goodness." She also keeps Author's Incognito in line.

4. Heather Justesen: She has a book coming out in a couple of weeks, but one of the amazing things about her and this chance in her life is she is actively looking for ways to include others in her promotions. Very smart, very kind.

5. MICHELLE: She doesn't include her last name on her blog, so I won't add it here, but she was my laurel advisor back when I was a laurel. She loved writing, and so did I, so that was one of the things we shared. I lost track of her shortly after I married, but a year or two ago, I ran into her at an LDS Storymaker's Conference. It was so great to come so far and see we were both still plowing toward our writing goals.

Hey, you five, if you answer this tag, let me know. I really want to read your answers. Thanks.

MISSING EXCERPT

2009-10-03T07:32:00.000-07:00

Here's a sneak peek of MISSING.

Missing

PROLOGUE

Thirteen-year-old Stacie Cox walked down the heavily wooded path to the A-frame home where she and her aunt and uncle lived during the summer months. She pulled her bandana from her pocket and wiped the sweat from her neck and forehead before opening the screen door and stepping into the dimly lit living room.

“I won’t ask about the hike,” Aunt Kathy called from the kitchen, “because I already know you enjoyed it. But what about the Smythes?”

Stacie sank onto the couch. “Mrs. Smythe said the mountains looked the same from there as they do from her store window in Rexburg.”

Aunt Kathy laughed. “Some people don’t get nature.”

“Then why do they go camping?” Stacie loosened the laces on her hiking boots.

“Same reason you like to hike so much. It’s a chance to get away from it all and just think.” Aunt Kathy, came out of the kitchen, her graying, light brown hair pulled tight in a ponytail, She placed a ham sandwich, baby carrots, and a glass of milk on the table. “Besides, it’s cheaper.”

Stacie slipped on her flip-flops. “Sorry, I’ll have to eat later. Mrs. Smythe asked me to watch her kids at the pool for a few minutes.”

“Don’t let them take advantage of you, dear. You work for the campground, not for her.”
“I’ll try not to. She said I’d only be watching the boys for a few minutes while she and Jessica changed into their swimsuits.”

“Okay. But they better not expect you to babysit for free the entire time they’re here.”
“If it takes too long, I’ll tell them you have something you need me to do.”

“Like eat your lunch!”

Stacie grinned, stepped out the door, and headed to the pool.

Mrs. Smythe and her children were waiting for her next to the Swim at Your Own Risk sign. She gave Stacie a cool once-over. “I thought you were changing into your suit. You took long enough.”

“I—I was going to, but my aunt needs me back soon.”

Mrs. Smythe frowned. “The boys are over there. Jessica and I will be back in a few minutes.”

Stacie opened the gate to the fence that surrounded the pool and walked to where the boys were swimming. More accurately, they were fighting.

“Let go of Harold’s ear!” Stacie yelled to Sam.

“He won’t let me have the ball!”

“I had it first!”

Stacie stood to her fullest height. “Let me have the ball. It’s mine.”

“No it’s not. It’s the campground’s!” Sam had let go of Harold’s ear, but now his fingers were entwined in his hair.

“I own the campground!”

“Nuh-uh! On the hike you said your aunt and uncle own it!”

“Yeah, well, I live with them. They’re my family, so it’s like I own it too.”

Harold screamed and threw the ball to the other side of the pool just as someone tugged at Stacie’s shirt. She turned to see Jessica. The young girl’s bright, brown eyes shined with excitement.

“Where’s your mom?”

“She’s in the camper,” Jessica said, holding out two pairs of goggles. “These are for the boys.”

“Thanks, Jessica. I’ll get them in a minute. Right now I’ve got to get that ball. Wait right there.”

Within moments, Stacie had it.

“Hey!” Harold cried.

“If you can figure out how to play without fighting, you can have it back,” Stacie said, remembering the babysitting tip her mother had shared with her a few months before she died.

“Tell Harold to let me have it, and we’ll stop fighting.”

“No, tell Sam to let me have it.”

Stacie pushed the long strand of dark brown hair that had fallen from her ponytail back behind her ear. “Uh, who had it first?”

“Me!”

Sam pushed Harold. “You did not. I picked it up as soon as I walked through the gate.”

“I had it before you even got there.”

“That’s enough, boys.” Mrs. Smythe had come up behind them, her arms full of towels. “And no more fighting about anything else, either, or it’s back inside for a nap.”

“A nap?”

Mrs. Smythe smiled briefly, and Stacie.

“Now, where’s Jessica?”

Stacie turned. “She’s over—”

The goggles were on the side of the pool.

The hint of a grin left Mrs. Smythe’s face. “Over where?”

Stacie ran. “Jessica!” She picked up the goggles. “Jessica!”

Mrs. Smythe caught up to her. The boys were close behind. “Weren’t you watching her?”

“I was trying to stop the boys from fighting.” Stacie scanned the poolside. “She was right here.”
And then she paled.

Mrs. Smythe looked at the pool too. “Jessica!” she screamed, lunging forward.

Stacie dove in, vaguely aware of Mrs. Smythe’s cries for help.

Stroke. Stroke. Reach. Got her!

Stacie lifted Jessica’s face out of the water, but the girl didn’t sputter. She didn’t move at all.
Mrs. Smythe screamed.

Don’t listen. Stacie thought. Just get her out of the pool.

From the corner of her eye, Stacie saw Aunt Kathy and Uncle Frank rush through the pool gate.

“What’s going on?” Uncle Frank rushed to the poolside, took Jessica from Stacie’s arms, and laid her on the concrete. He tilted the little girl’s head back and began breathing into her mouth.

Please, Heavenly Father, help her breathe!

Stacie climbed out of the pool, her limbs shaking even though it was a hot July day. She saw Aunt Kathy put her arm around Mrs. Smythe, who was now crying hysterically.

“Frank used to be an EMT,” Aunt Kathy soothed, trying to lead the woman away from the pool.

“Stacie, get the cell phone from the pickup and call 911.”

Stacie raced to the gate, but as she pulled it open, Mrs. Smythe began to scream. “Someone do something! She’s not responding!”

Tears poured down Stacie’s cheeks. Where is the pickup?

“Stacie, you were here!” Mrs. Smythe’s voice grew venomously shrill. “You were supposed to be watching her!”

Finally, Stacie found the pickup and called 911. Then she waited for the paramedics to arrive, led them to the pool, and watched their futile efforts to revive Jessica. But it wasn’t until they loaded the child’s lifeless body into the ambulance that Stacie ran.

She ran and ran and ran.

CHAPTER ONE

EIGHT YEARS LATER
August 12

Adrienne brushed the traitorous tears from her face, wiping away in one quick movement the emptiness that had filled her since the accident. It was as if sudden energy—life—had returned to her veins, telling her she didn’t have to feel this way anymore. The agony was over, and that child—soon to be her child, the one she’d watched for nearly an hour now—was right there, running toward her.

Adrienne stepped out from the cover of the pine trees. “Can I help you?” she asked.

The girl stopped running, wiped the tears from her cheeks, and shrugged. Her broken expression reminded Adrienne of when she used to cry herself, especially when her mother left her alone with her first stepfather. It was the greatest of betrayals, but his neglect had given her strength she could share with this child. Her child. Beauty and strength all the world would know she had because she’d raised this Riana. Her new Riana. Her daughter.

“Are you hiding from someone?” she asked soothingly.

Another shrug.

Adrienne glanced through the trees toward the secluded clearing of the playground. She had seen that other mother arguing with Riana, and Riana had run off in a tantrum, but now the mother had her back to them and was standing at the base of the slide, watching, waiting for another child, a boy, to whisk down to her.

“I bet no one will find you in my car,” Adrienne said.

Riana peered at the mother through the trees, and her brow furrowed.

“Did someone make you feel bad?” Adrienne nudged the child toward the road.
Riana nodded.

“Then let’s hide, okay?”

The girl didn’t answer, but Adrienne took her hand and led her away.

December 15
They say trouble comes in threes, and if this was only number 2, Stacie hated to think what number 3 would be. She closed her cell phone.

“What’s wrong?” Janice whispered.

The tour bus turned onto Fort Street.

“Nothing,” Stacie replied.

Janice’s dark eyes settled on her with that innate, reassuring power Stacie had always believed came from her Sioux ancestry. “Then why are your hands shaking?”

“Read this.” Stacie handed her friend her phone and the two of them read the text together.

Didn’t want you to hear from someone else. The Smythes have sued the campground again.

Claim we’re financially responsible for their daughter’s death. Everything under control. Good luck on your solo.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Janice said. “I thought that was settled.”

“Nothing’s ever settled with that woman.” Stacie swallowed the bile that always surfaced with thoughts of Mrs. Smythe.

Keep me posted.

She pressed send, tucked her phone in the bag she kept in the overhead compartment, and peered out the bus window. The trees and houses flickered by like a slide show on fast-forward, and for a moment Stacie wished the posh Victorian buildings weren’t in the middle of a bustling city of almost-green lawns and manicured bushes, but were instead draped with blankets of snow and icicles. That way, it would feel more like Christmas.

Stacie sighed. The choir’s Christmas tour was in full swing, and Stacie’s accompanist for her solo was ill and unable to play for her. That was trouble number 1. She’d be singing with a substitute accompanist, and the idea made her nervous.

The driver turned into Craigdarroch Castle’s driveway, and once the bus came to a stop, Stacie and the other choir members filed off quickly.

“Don’t worry,” Brother Fillmore, the choir director, said when Stacie stepped onto the wet pavement. “You and Matt will do just fine.”

“Did you see where he went? I’d like to at least talk through the solo before we perform it.”

“Up near the front. He was one of the first off the bus.”

Stacie scanned the crowd ahead of her, trying to ignore her growing anxiety. Then she saw him. He stood at the base of the stone steps beneath the castle’s arched entry, and almost as if she’d called his name, he suddenly turned his gaze to hers, held it briefly, then nodded before continuing up to the doorway. Confidence, she suspected, was what he meant to convey, but it didn’t comfort her. Sure, Matt was a good pianist, but she and Lara were such a perfect team, always anticipating the other’s movements. Stacie had learned to rely on her.

A brisk breeze caught a thick strand of Stacie’s hair and plastered it across her eyes, but by the time she’d pushed it away, Matt had stepped inside the castle.

She gathered the skirt of her sapphire formal in both hands and rushed up the steps and through the door. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light, but when they did, she saw that she was standing at the front of an open hall. The floors and walls were paneled with a warm white oak and lined with historical displays of Christmas ornaments and children’s toys. Ivy adorned the banister of a box-shaped, winding grand staircase, and light filtering through the stained-glass windows added a multicolored luster to the early-twentieth-century Christmas tree display. Across the hall were two widely separated doorways that opened into a large, chandeliered room. And humming through the air were the blended voices of dozens of tourists.

“Are you looking for me?”

Stacie turned and saw Matt standing uncomfortably close to her.

“Yes,” she said aloud. “I thought, well, since we haven’t practiced together yet, we ought to talk through my solo and—”

He shrugged slightly and looked passed her, or rather he gazed over her head and across the room. “We can if you want, but I’ve heard it many times.” His bass voice was so soft she had to strain to hear him over the crowd’s drone. “You sing ‘Silent Night’ simply enough, Stacie. I shouldn’t have any trouble following you.”

Stacie tried not to grimace. Simply enough? Did he mean that as a compliment or an insult? “This is important to me, Matt. I know the city dignitaries won’t be here today, but this is pretty much our dress rehearsal.”

He shook his head. “It’s too late to do anything about it now. Maybe later we can change things. But I really think we’ll be fine.”

Stacie suddenly felt nauseous. “What do you mean? Change what?”

Before Matt could answer her, Brother Fillmore, who stood in front of the fireplace between the two doorways, motioned them to the portable risers, and Matt started forward. If Stacie didn’t speak now, she’d lose her chance.

“I can change something if I need to,” she blurted. “What’s wrong with the song?”

Matt stopped, turned, and looked at her beneath lowered eyelids. “The ending’s not right. Slow down the last note. Let it float for a second longer, then I’ll play the final chord.”

Stacie stared at him. Even after all her practicing, she knew he was right about the ending. But before she had a chance to tell him so, he nodded and said, “Like I told you, it’s too late now. It’s your decision.”

“Wait a second. I didn’t give you my answer.”

Light flashed through his dark brown eyes. “Well?”

Stacie licked her lips, preparing to graciously tell him they’d perform it as he’d suggested, but when a hint of smugness suddenly shaded his expression, she stopped. Was he teasing her or telling her the truth?

Matt shrugged, then headed to the risers where the rest of the choir was waiting. Confused and a bit embarrassed, Stacie followed him.

As soon as they stepped into their positions, Brother Fillmore cleared his throat. “Mr. Underwood, head of the Craigdarroch Historical Society, has asked us to sing our numbers in this hall. However, Stacie and Matt will perform ‘Silent Night,’” he motioned to one of the two doors, “at the piano in the drawing room. Stacie, I’d like you to stand on the middle row today, between Tom and Matt, to minimize the distraction.”

Stacie dutifully moved to the middle row.

“Have you made up your mind?” Matt whispered as soon as she settled in next to him. He was looking straight ahead as if they were already performing.

Stacie didn’t look at him, either. “I don’t know. Were you serious?” She gazed at the gathering audience, realizing that many of the tourists would simply be walking by during this concert, somewhat like at an open house, where they could listen to the choir while looking at the displays.

“Of course I was serious. What’d you think?”

“I wasn’t sure. I thought you might be joking.” Stacie noticed many children in the audience. They were probably on school tours, and their faces seemed so bright with anticipation that it filled Stacie with guilt. How could she even consider giving them less than her best? She turned to Matt. “I’ll sing the end the way you suggested. Okay?”

Matt’s unexpectedly appreciative gaze held hers so long it sent heat to her cheeks, and she involuntarily inched backward. But still he watched her, wordless.

“Well?” Her voice fluttered uneasily, so she stood even taller than she had before, almost on her tiptoes, hoping it would restore the edge—the self-control—she needed, even though it put her barely at eye level with his shoulder.

“Agreed,” he said.

The BYU–Idaho Chorale performed their first few numbers flawlessly, despite the stifling air that smelled of sweat and cinnamon. Out of the corner of her eye, Stacie noticed several children listening so closely that they mouthed the words of the well-known carols. But eventually, it was time for her solo, and Brother Fillmore cued Matt and her forward.

Shoulders back, head poised, Stacie smoothly followed Matt to the elegant, double drawing room. A path of blue carpet led them past period furniture and massive brass chandeliers to a gold-inlaid, nineteenth-century grand piano.

Matt slipped behind the velvet cord that kept visitors from roaming too far into the room and sat on the cushioned bench. Stacie stepped into position next to the piano and looked out at the audience, most of whom were less than twenty feet away from her.

Matt played the introduction.
She sang:

Silent night! Holy night!
All is calm, all is bright.

At the far end of the room, Stacie saw a tall woman in a white hat whispering to one of the tour guides. She seemed upset.

Round yon virgin mother and Child.

The woman turned away from the guide, and Stacie saw a young girl wearing a black coat and green scarf. The girl was wedged between the woman and the wall as if she were hiding.

Holy Infant, so tender and mild.

On closer inspection, Stacie saw that the blonde-haired girl had dark brown eyes and a familiar round face. Stacie’s eyes widened. There’s no way it could be Jessica!

Silent night! Holy night!

Even though she knew it wasn’t Jessica—after all, Jessica was dead—Stacie couldn’t keep her gaze off the girl. It was almost like she was seeing the ghost that had haunted her nightmares for the last eight years.

Suddenly, the woman folded her arms and stared at the docent with narrowed eyes. Then, with one quick movement, she zipped her tan jacket to her neck, grasped the girl’s shoulder, and hurried the child toward the door.

Christ, the Savior, is born!

The girl stumbled to the floor.

Silent night! Holy night!

As the white-hatted woman tugged the girl to her feet, the girl’s scarf caught on the woman’s jacket sleeve, pulling the scarf from the girl’s neck to reveal a large, cauliflower-shaped birthmark that covered most of the skin from the base of the girl’s left ear to her throat.

Son of God. Love’s pure light.

As Stacie neared the end of “light,” a bit of hesitancy crept into her voice, but she pushed through it, trying to focus on the note. Where have I seen that birthmark?

Radiant beams from thy holy face . . .

Had she seen it at the university pool where she’d worked as a lifeguard? The campground? Somewhere else in Rexburg?

Sleep in heavenly—

The woman’s gaze flitted anxiously round the room, stopping briefly on Stacie, before she finally re-coiled the scarf around the girl’s neck and tugged her out the door.

Matt played the last arpeggio.

Stacie took a deep breath and held it, preparing for her final note. And then—

Becka! That’s where she’d seen the birthmark. On the “Missing” posters for Becka Hollingsworth—a little girl missing from Rexburg for several months. Stacie and half of Rexburg had searched for poor Becka.

Stacie’s throat strangled around “peace” as an empty roar filled her ears. And then, no longer thinking about the song or Matt or even Jessica Smythe, she charged into the audience and raced toward the door through which the woman had disappeared. She had to catch that girl.

Breathing fast, Stacie ran past the choir and through the hall. She frantically scanned every face, not caring whom she bumped into and almost knocking over several Christmas displays. When she finally reached the exit, she raced outside, but no one was there.

Trouble number 3.

What They Did Right--A Review of H.B. Moore's Novel, Alma

2009-09-28T08:21:00.000-07:00

To me, one of the most important elements a good book must have is a life lesson and/or spiritual insight, like those found in some of my favorite classics, "To Kill a Mockingbird," "Rebecca," and "Jane Eyre." Unfortunately, incorporating insight into our work without being didactic can be tricky, but I'm happy to say H.B. Moore has done just that in her recently released novel, "Alma." Sure, her fictional story is based on a true story from the Book of Mormon, but Moore does not use that ready medium to preach. Like any master craftsman, she lets her characters and conflict reveal important truths for her.

For instance, one of ALMA's lessons, or themes, is the importance and power of patience. Every one of Moore's righteous, main characters struggles with it. First, there's Rachel, Abinidi's grieving widow. Though initially unwilling to open her heart to another, she plows forward with her day to day challenges until the Lord eventually heals her heart enough that she can again find joy.

Similarly, Maia, one of King Noah's widows, faces a worse fate, yet she patiently submits to abuse and servitude while simultaneously pleading with and relying on the Lord to deliver her. Alma and Helam, Abinidi's brother, also deal with like challenges. In fact, all of Alma's people subject themselves to the power of their enemies, knowing the Lord will, in the end, free them.

Of course, the beauty and strength of these lessons, are not the only reasons you should read ALMA. Actually, H.B. Moore is an exceptional storyteller. I mean, how many of us can create suspense in a story that nearly all LDS readers are already familiar with?

I Won!

2009-09-21T07:35:00.000-07:00

I can hardly believe it! After Friday's exciting news about MISSING's cover and approximate publication date, now this! On Saturday, I attended the League of Utah Writer's conference in Midway, Utah. There I learned I won 1st place in their full length novel contest for my newly written book, TRAPPED. I'm still grinning. Can this be real?

My MISSING Cover is here!

2009-09-18T13:08:00.000-07:00

Wahoo! I'm still pinching myself. My MISSING cover is ready! What's more, MISSING will be in stores come mid-October. You'll also be able to purchase it online. I'll let you know more as I learn more.

When I woke up this morning, I wrote a list of writing/marketing goals I wanted to work on and then I put the marketing need-to's behind the writing need-to's, because I still didn't know when MISSING would be published. A few hours later--my cover showed up and my editor basically said, "Ready, Set, Go!" Only not in those terms. :)

So, for the next few days I'll be busy going over final edits and proofs. I'll also be attending the League of Utah Writer's conference in Midway tomorrow. Maybe I'll see some of you there!

Character Building-An Interview with Joyce DiPastena on her novel, Illuminations of the Heart

2009-09-11T00:01:00.000-07:00

In his book, "Characters & Viewpoint," Orson Scott Card teaches that one way writers can develop their major characters so they're "interesting and believable enough for people to want to read about what they do" is to interrogate them. Yes, that interrogation includes such questions as height, weight, hair color, and family history, but it also incorporates the more important, causal questions that define motive, such as "Why would he do such a thing? What made him do it? If he does it, what will happen as result?" In fact, one bit of advice I learned from an established author was our characters can do anything, as long as we give them the proper motivation.

Author Joyce DiPastena obviously understands this process, for her characters in her recently released, medieval romance, "Illuminations of the Heart" are fully "rounded" and maintain clear motivations.

Take, for instance, Siri, her heroine. Better yet, let's get a stronger feel for the character development process by briefly interrogating both Siri and her creator, Joyce DiPastena.

Ronda: Welcome Joyce, Siri, to The Write Blocks.

Joyce: We're happy to be here. Thanks for inviting us .

Ronda: It's my pleasure. Joyce, why don't we start with you. You must have known, early on in your development of "Illuminations of the Heart" you wanted to write an off-shoot of “Loyalty’s Web.” What led you to find/choose your main character, Siri?

Joyce: I knew I wanted to write an off-shoot of “Loyalty’s Web” when I reached the very end of the book, but I didn’t do it because I wanted to write a book about Siri. I didn’t even know Siri yet! What I wanted to do was write a book about Triston. I hadn’t intended to fall in love with him when I first “created” him for “Loyalty’s Web,” but ultimately that’s exactly what I did. And then I left him so unhappy at the end of that book. And I didn’t foresee any way that he could ever become fully happy given the situation I’d left him in. So the only thing I could think of was to write him a book of his own, knowing there’d have to be some major shakeups between the end of “Loyalty’s Web” and the beginning of what became “Illuminations of the Heart.”

Between the events of “Loyalty’s Web” and what happened during the interim between the two books, Triston carried some deep emotional wounds. There needed to be some kind of agent that would allow him to heal, and that agent became Siri. She needed to be a strong, bright, cheerful, optimistic figure to help “illuminate” the darkness that had become Triston’s life. And she needed the capacity to both teach and impart the lesson of forgiveness. By the way, something in your question just struck me as interesting. You called Siri my “main character”, and a few other interviewers have done the same thing. But once I get a story going, I never consider one character, whether my hero or heroine, to be my “main” one. Ultimately, I always think of my books as stories about a couple. “Loyalty’s Web” was Heléne and Gunthar’s story. “Illuminations of the Heart” was Siri and Triston’s story. In my mind, each of my stories is equally about the hero and heroine. So while we may be focusing on Siri for this interview, the story was very much “about” Triston, too.

Ronda: Did you base Siri or any of your other fictional characters off of real people you know? If so, who?

Joyce: I never consciously base any of my characters on real people (who knows what my subconscious might be doing?), with one exception. When Siri describes her lack of embroidery talent in “Illuminations of the Heart,” that was based on me.

Ronda: What are you most proud of Siri for doing and why?

Joyce: Teaching Triston to forgive others, and to forgive himself.

Ronda: I agree. Actually, that motivation was one of my favorite things about you, Siri. Why don't you tell us a bit more about yourself? Where were you born? What are your interests? What was your relationship with your family like?

Siri: I was born in the beautiful city of Venice into a warm and loving family. My mother was the daughter of an Italian merchant. Venice was a great trading city, you know, and as it is located on the coast of the Adriatic sea, many pilgrims and crusaders wishing to travel to Jerusalem were required to pass through our city. My father was not engaged in the prosperous maritime trade (though my first husband was). He was an illuminator of considerable reputation. Many of the pilgrims commissioned my father and his apprentices to create beautiful psalteries and prayer books for them to carry with them on their pilgrimages, so my family never wanted for money or comfort.

He was not a native Venetian, though. He, too, had begun as a pilgrim traveling through our city from a far off land to the west called Poitou, but he met and fell in love with my mother and married her, choosing to settle and build up his illumination workshop in Venice rather than proceed on his pilgrimage. I was very close to both my parents. My mother tried diligently to teach me the feminine art of embroidery. But the tedious stitching bored me to tears, and my designs always came out crooked. I wished to learn to paint lovely miniatures like Papa did in his workshop, instead! Papa apprenticed my brother, Simon, to him, but he taught me his art in private, because I was a girl. Still, I do believe I became quite as skilled as Simon was in the end.

After Mama and Papa died, Simon sometimes allowed me to sit in the workshop and help on important commissions. He said he was spoiling me by giving into my pleas to work alongside the employees he had inherited from Papa, but I mastered just the right pout to make him let me have my way. I was very young then, though. I do very little pouting now…at least, not on purpose. Triston accuses me of pouting sometimes, but then he laughs and says it is because of the shape of my lips, and I cannot help that, can I? Do you mind if I ask… What is that very odd object you are…well, I’m not sure exactly what you’re doing with it. Your fingers seem to be flying over some sort of board and then odd little characters appear on that flat background that has an odd glow. Some of the sillier servants at Vere Castle might think you are practicing some sort of witchcraft, but I suspect it is simply some sort of object I do not understand. (Lucianna says I am too curious, but she’s not here just now to scold me, and how will I know if I don’t ask?)

Ronda: Exactly! Which is why I, too, am asking you and Joyce so many questions. Just like my--this object is called a computer--seems so foreign and yet even more interesting to you, so, too, does your life seem interesting and foreign to us. In fact, why do you leave your home, with only your friend and a few body guards as protection, to wind up in Triston’s care? Did you leave any friends or family behind?

Siri: This is still somewhat painful to talk about. My brother and first husband both died. My husband was an old man and though I grieved for him, his death was not unexpected. But poor Simon…he was only seven-and-twenty years. A fever took him, as it had both my parents many years earlier. My first husband left me enough wealth that I might have remained in Venice if I’d wished to. But there was an incident…I’d rather not speak of it just now, it was terrifying and I do fear it may have worsened Simon’s fever, forcing him to expend what little strength he had left. Oh, forgive me. I should be past weeping about this by now. Grant me a moment to compose myself… There, that is better. I do so hate to weep in front of strangers. Simon made up his mind that it would not be safe for me to remain in Venice alone. My mother’s brother had sold my grandparents’ business to take up the religious life. Mama said he had never been hard headed enough to succeed as a merchant anyway. So I had no other family but Simon. When he realized he would not recover from his illness, he drew up a will that sold our illuminator shop and dictated that I should use the proceeds to journey to Papa’s homeland in Poitou. Simon had a friend there whom he’d met on a pilgrimage he’d made while I was married to Alessandro. He said he’d grown to trust this man above all other men he had ever known. He said this man would know how to protect me, and I would have promised Simon anything to give his mind ease while he was so ill. So I gave him my word I would obey his wishes when he was gone.

Yes, I left a few friends behind, but none to whom I was deeply attached, except for my mother’s dear friend, Lucianna. She agreed to travel with me to Poitou, and while she can be a bit haughty and trying at times, she remains my dearest friend!

Ronda: What did you expect would happen to you once you arrived at Triston’s?

Siri: Certainly not what did! Naturally, I was very nervous of my reception. I knew Simon had not had time to send word to Triston ahead of time of my coming. I expected him to be surprised. (That may be too mild a word.) But Simon had spoken so warmly of their friendship and with such confidence in his friend’s honor, that I never doubted I should be safe in his guardianship. But what he thought and said and did when he saw me—! Well, certainly nothing could have prepared me for that!

Ronda: Given the political and familial expectations for women in medieval history, what makes you think you can control your destiny?

Siri: Medieval? Is that what you call the time I live in? What an odd word. What does it mean, please?

Ronda: I'm sorry. It just refers to the time you live in.

Siri: Oh, dear, was that Luciana swishing past the doorway? Do you think she’s eavesdropping on us? I’ll be in for a fine scold when we’re done if I keep quizzing you like this. But I do wonder so about curious things! As to your question, you must remember that my parents were not nobles and held no land, which is all that kings and counts and barons care about when marrying their daughters off. And Simon may have been right. I may have been a bit spoiled when I was younger. I married Alessandro without his permission. When Alessandro died, Simon never tried to force me to marry another man. He knew how I would have fought him, and I know he loved me too much to ever wish me to be unhappy. Simon let me have my way about so many things, like sitting in the workshop, that I suppose I simply assumed I could go on in Poitou much as I had in Venice.

Ronda: You are a beautiful, young widow, though, Siri, and it seems you live in such a rough world, so why don’t you wish to remarry?

Siri: It was not that I did not wish to marry again. It is only that I had married Alessandro for convience’s sake, kind though he was and as fond of him as I grew. But I wished for more than fondness and convenience in a second marriage. This time, I longed for a man I could love with all my heart, and who would love me in return. I did not think that too much to ask. Did you not wish to marry for love yourself, Mistress Ronda?

Ronda: Yes, I did. And I do love my husband, but even so, you quickly learned to love Triston. What do you most love about him?

Siri: Oh, my. Must I be so shallow as to admit that his devastating good looks swept my senses away the moment I laid eyes on him? And I cannot deny that that first kiss from him shook me straight to my core. It was so sweet and gentle, so very unlike… Well, let us not speak of that. But of course, I do not love him only for his kisses. I have never met a man more loyal, more honorable, more earnest to be a good father and faithful husband. He is a skillful knight and few men can stand against the strength of his arm. But he does not enjoy bloodshed and war. I suspect he would rarely leave his beloved Vere Castle if duty and Duke Richard did not call him away. We would both choose a quiet life if we could. I like it when he reads to me while I’m painting miniatures in the books his friends or neighbors often commission from me. I can tell from the volumes he chooses that he wishes his father had allowed him to learn to do more than read simple French. Can you imagine? He once read me part of a book called Dialectica, written by Peter Abelard! Even though the volume had been translated into French, we neither one of us understood the half of what Abelard was saying. But I could tell that Triston wished he did. Oh dear, you asked me to name only one thing about him that I love. But tell me truthfully, Mistress Ronda, is it not the composite of the man that makes you love your husband?

Ronda: YES! I love him both for who he is and what he does. Thank you so much, Siri and Joyce, for taking the time to talk to us today. Our conversation has been very "illuminating."

And as a quick reminder to our audience, leave a comment on this and/or the other reviews taking place on DiPastena's blog tour, and your name (one chance for each comment you make) will be entered in a drawing to win one of four prizes: an autographed copy of "Illuminations of the Heart" or three, online, $10 gift certificates toward the purchase of "Illuminations of the Heart" from Amazon.com, DeseretBook.com, or BarnesandNoble.com.

Happy reading . . . and writing!

I've Joined Another Writing Group

2009-09-03T19:09:00.001-07:00

Guess what? Thanks to fellow writer Joyce DiPastena, I've found and joined a "G-rated, Romance Writing Group! I'm so excited because it has been sooo hard to find both authors and publishers outside the LDS market who write/publish romance that isn't embarrassing to read. It's called the Sweetest Romance Authors, and our blog is located here and at the button in my sidebar. If you like clean, yet exciting stories that are rich with real romance, you really ought to check it out, and keep checking it out, because our list of published titles is quickly growing. You can bet my LDS novel, MISSING, will be among them. Grin.

Mental Zoning--Controlling a Valuable Asset

2009-08-28T10:26:00.000-07:00

One of the great things about associating with other writers is we learn many of our idiosyncrasies are "normal," for writers, that is. For instance, in a recent newsletter post by David Farland, he talked about the writing zone. I know exactly what he's talking about, only my family "lovingly" refers to it as "spacing out." So many, inappropriate times, I find my mind wandering toward whatever writing project I'm working on. Like while my family's watching a movie or commercial on television and say, "Mom, did you see that?" and I have to tell them "no." I was staring right at it, but I didn't see it. Or even hear it. I was in "the zone."

In truth, I'm soooooo pitiful when it comes to zoning out, and though I'm really trying to learn to control it, especially when my family and friends are talking to me, I still do it far more often than non-writers understand. One of my favorite, anonymous quotes is: "I will not live like a normal person. I am a writer." I bet Mr. Anonymous was another "spacey."

This zone has its good points, however. Because my stories/characters/settings etc. seem to hover over everything I do, my mind is constantly gathering facts and truths that enrich my writing. For example, one of my favorite scenes in my current WIP was inspired by an event that happened with my family during a thunderstorm when the power went out. And then last night, I had a vivid dream of a beautiful, "hidden" place that I knew, as soon as I woke, I wanted to use in my next book.

What I'm trying to say is that a writer's mental "zone" is a vital strength, but it's also connected to an obsessive-like weakness. Our challenge? To harness it. Some of the ways I try to do this so I don't have to keep focusing on ideas that come to me are:

1. Keeping a file box of 3x5 cards where I keep "truths" I read/hear/come to understand.
2. Keeping a notebook next to my bed to record vivid dreams and sudden thoughts that often come just before I fall asleep.
3. Always keeping paper and a pen nearby so I can write ideas and even phrases that come while I'm doing dishes or sweeping the floor.
4. Finding ways to not only be fully awake but also completely alone when I'm actually writing.

As far as trying to control the "weakness" side of it? I haven't yet reached the point where I can say I've gained control over it; but the one main thing I'm currently trying to implement is to fully listen and concentrate on what others are saying to me. If that means looking away from the computer, then so be it. As I've implied, this is not easy for me, especially when I'm in the middle of writing a suddenly flowing scene, but I'm trying.

Please don't misunderstand me. Some writers have encouraged others to help their families realize they need time to be alone and to "zone out" in order to fully utilize their mental, writing capacities, and I agree with this; but for me, I'm at a point where I must make sure my family and friends know they are more important to me than my stories.

This is where I'm at in the writing zone process. Where are you?

Missing Comes . . .

2009-08-20T07:19:00.000-07:00

I just realized I haven't spread the word in a post that Missing is now scheduled to be published this fall. I can hardly wait! But at the same time, I'm trying to come up with the best ways to promote it. Any suggestions?

What I Learned at the Best-Seller Seminar

2009-08-14T19:27:00.000-07:00

As I thought, the How To Become a Bestseller teleseminar was an opportunity for the speakers to sell a service, kind of like the opportunities we sometimes receive to buy timeshares at resorts. However, also as I'd expected, I did learn a few things about marketing. Their particular system was guaranteed to work (if you use their service and do everything they tell you to do) for non-fiction books, but it only applied to fiction that contained some type of help for it's readers.

Nevertheless, I did learn a few helpful tips, including this advice: when we choose a day or two for our media blitz (I think it applies to book signings, too), we should avoid certain days. Two of those are any of the days during the week of a national holiday and Saturdays.

Another one was once we attain bestsellerdom, no one can take that title from us. We will always be a bestseller, and we should taut that on our websites, etc.

Something for me to reach for, I guess.

How to Make Your Book a Bestseller Seminar

2009-08-13T14:38:00.000-07:00

Earlier this week, I signed up for a free, one-and-a-half to two-hour teleseminar on how to make almost any book a bestseller in 38 days. Since my book, Missing, will come out within the next few months, I thought it would be well worth my while to check into it. It takes place in about an hour from now. All I have to do is call in and listen. My only cost is the telephone bill, and since we already have free long distance within the US, even that cost is a wash. Tomorrow, I'll let you know how it went and a little bit about what I learned. Deal?

More Prizes for Illuminations of the Heart Blog Tour

2009-08-10T09:07:00.000-07:00

Joyce DiPastena's blog tour for "Illuminations of the Heart" begins today. Check below for a direct link to each day's review. Also, and this is a big "also," Joyce has added three $10 dollar online gift certificate prizes for DeseretBook.com, Amazon.com, and BarnesandNoble.com to go towards the purchase of her book. These, like the other prizes, will be drawn from the comments. So go ahead! Make a comment and get a chance to win a prize!

A New Blog Tour Coming Soon

2009-08-05T17:06:00.000-07:00

My publisher has organized a blog tour for their latest release by Joyce DiPastena, "Illuminations of the Heart." It is a Medieval romance chuck full of adventure and intrigue. The fun begins on August 10th and will run until September 18, excluding weekends and Labor Day. I've listed the schedule below.

This is how it works:
Each day, the designated blogger will write a review, and some of them will even include interviews with the author (Mine certainly will!). Then, after you read my review, if you leave a comment, you will be entered in a drawing for an autographed copy of the book. What's more, if you comment on more than one review, you will be entered in the drawing multiple times. A pretty great deal, I think.

August 10
Mormon Hermit Mom's
Book Habit
August 11
Amesbury Reads
August 12
Heather Justesen
August 13
Rachelle's Writing Spot
August 14
Cami's Books and Fit Mommas
August 17
Jewel's World
August 18
Of Writerly Things
August 19
Frespa Fan
August 20
Of Good Report
August 21
Rachel Rager
August 24
Boojoos and Aprilcots
August 25
Musings from an LDS Writing Mom
August 26
Queen of the Clan
August 27
Write Bravely
August 28
Dreams of Quill and Ink
August 31
*Tristi Pinkston
September 1
Vicissitudes
September 2
Tangeled Words and Dreams
September 3
Random-ish by Nichole and LDSwritersBlogck
September 4
SeriouslyŠ and latterdayauthors
September 7
Lu Ann's Book Review
September 9
Reading for Sanity
September 10
Taffy's Candy
September 11
The Write
Blocks
September 14
Why Not? Because I Said
So! and LDSWomensBookReview
September 15
Ink Splasher
September 16
Romance Old School
September 17
Blog the Day Away
September 18
Walnut Springs Press

MISSING update

2009-08-03T20:20:00.000-07:00

I have now learned from my editor that they have accepted my revisions. Whew! My next waiting hurdle: when will it be published?

Show It Like It Is!

2009-07-23T14:23:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, I defined "Telling" for you with a promise to describe "Showing" in the future. Well, the future is here.

Showing, as I alluded to in my earlier post, is how writers help a reader feel as if they're in the middle of their story, seeing and experiencing the conflicts and resolutions with the protagonist. The three best ways I've found to show a scene rather than to tell it are to include dialogue, action, and details.

First, dialogue and action are more than self-expanatory, they are critical to fiction; for if your characters aren't saying or doing anything besides looking at your wonderful setting or thinking, they are stagnant. Boring, even. Your readers may even, heaven forbid, close your book and never pick it up again. So make sure, as you look over your manuscript, that your characters are doing and saying something important.

Adding descriptive details is another invaluable tool. And when I talk about details, I'm referring to those that reflect all 6+ senses: sight, hearing, taste, smell, touch, and intuition. As I was revising my novel, Missing, I was happily surprised by how much more powerful one of my less action-packed scenes became when I incorporated such details as what one of my villains was listening to on the radio and how she felt when an unexpected stranger passed by.

Now for the big question: how do you know if you're telling more than showing your story? The answer's simple. As you glimpse over each page of your manuscript, watch for these indicators:

1. Your page is filled with long, uninterrupted paragraphs.
2. There is no dialogue on the page.
3. Your characters aren't doing anything but looking or thinking.

If you have any of these factors, take a good look at your manuscript and see if you can add dialogue, action, or details. I bet you'll be able to, and your writing will be stronger because of it.

Finally, in my earlier post, I offered you two examples of "telling," so I thought you might appreciate a "showing" example, too. I recently read Heather B. Moore's novel, "Abinidi," and as I read it, I couldn't help but marvel at how well she incorporated this technique. So, here ya go, an example from the first paragraphs of "Abinidi:"

"A rat scurried across Abinidi's legs, and he tucked his feet beneath him, wrapping his arms around his knees. The air inside the prison cell had blossomed into ripe humidity, sending rivulets of perspiration down Abinidi's back. Gazing with effort at his dim surroundings . . . A thin beam of muffled light filtered through the corridor."

I've Created a "Book Store"

2009-07-17T17:59:00.000-07:00

I've just added a sidebar link to my own bookstore (top of page). It includes direct purchase links to my recommended, "How To Write" books, my favorite fiction, and eventually my own published novels. I've often referred to these books on this post, because they've been so helpful to me throughout my writing "apprenticeship," and I thought it would help you, as my readers, find them easier, too.

An Announcement and a Contest

2009-07-10T06:32:00.000-07:00

I know I said I'd continue with my discussion about show and tell, but this information was just too noteworthy to pass up. But don't worry, I will get back to "show" in a few days.

As for today . . .

First, my friends Nichole Giles and Cindy Beck have a book coming out in December titled, "Mormon Mishaps and Mischief." It consists of humorous anecdotes related to LDS life, and I AM ONE OF THE CONTRIBUTORS! So make sure you keep an eye out for it. It would make a fun gift.

Second, I've recently learned of a great opportunity--a contest--for all you writers out there. LDS Publisher is holding a Christmas Story contest RIGHT NOW, and the winning entries will be published in a Christmas book this year! You really ought to check this one out.

Happy reading and writing.

Show or Tell

2009-07-06T17:53:00.001-07:00

At the Teen Writer's Conference last June, Heather Moore and I taught a class on editing and critiquing. One of the subjects we covered was Showing Vs. Telling. Since learning the difference between the two is essential to becoming a better writer, I thought I'd post a blog or two about it. Today, I'll define "Telling." Plain and simple, telling is a summary of events or a report of what happened, kind of like what an anchorman might do on the late night news. He might give us a quote or two, and he might even describe the action with a few, well-chosen words, like "raced" or "smashed," but overall, we, the audience, will not feel as if we're in the middle of the event; we'll simply know it happened. This is not what we fiction and non-fiction writers (barring news reporters) want to do.
Let me repeat: Do not tell your story. Show it. In fact, best-selling author, Janet Evanovich, said in her book, "How I Write," "Don't tell the reader anything, if you can show it instead."
True, there are a few times when telling is best, like when a character is repeating information the reader already knows to another character, or when we have to quickly update our reader about what's happened over an extended period of time--think of some of those sections in Stephenie Meyers "New Moon," shortly after Edward left. But by and large, we should try our level best to avoid telling.

Still not sure what telling is? Here are a couple of examples:

“She also volunteered lodging for my servants and the stable for my horses, but didn’t seem surprised when I told her I had neither, or offended when I told her I’d rather not talk about how I arrived. Wealth apparently brings you unquestioned acceptance.” (“My Fair Godmother,” Janette Rallinson, pg. 119-120.)

“Jeb started sending me on little errands. Run back to the kitchen for another roll, he was still hungry. Go fetch a bucket of water, this corner of the field was dry. Pull Jamie out of his class, Jeb needed to speak with him. . .”
(The Host, Stephenie Meyer, pg. 242-242.)

Until next time.

Still Trying to Catch Up

2009-06-29T21:19:00.000-07:00

Now that I've resubmitted Missing to my publisher and am again in the waiting for their response mode, I'm trying to catch up on other writing assignments. Two months ago, my editor at yourLDSneighborhood.com requested I write a specific article for the newsletter. I told her I'd do it, but since the subject was not a "pressing" issue (as she'd already informed me), I requested a couple of months because I was swamped with my book. She acquiesced, and now, two months later, I've finally written and submitted that article. Whew! Another "To Do" wiped off the list. Grin.

I've Submitted my Revisions

2009-06-26T12:28:00.000-07:00

As you know, I've been a bit absent in the blogging arena because I've been furiously rewriting my novel, Missing, per my editor's concerns. I sent it to her on Wednesday night (actually Thursday morning) at 1:00 a.m. My goal had been to submit it that day, so I stayed up until I completed it. Yay! I'm now waiting for her and her co-worker's responses. So far, they've mentioned they like my "new" beginning, which is actually a prologue I'd previously edited out of my book, so I hope that's a good sign. This will be my 4th full rewrite of this novel. I guess I should expect stuff like this since this is the book I've "learned" on, but let me tell ya, I've been over the same story and the same words so many times I'm not sure I can see it subjectively anymore. One bit of writing advice I've heard over the years is that you should work and rework your novel until you've done everything you know to do, and you're sick of it. I've been at that point a few times now. I guess we'll see what happens.

As far as my second book goes, I've finally completed the final chapter. It is a romantic-suspense novel, like Missing, but also includes a hint of fantasy. Everyone who knows anything about this book loves it. Hopefully, once I find a publisher, etc., you will, too.

I know I still have some scenes to adjust, some details to include, and some overall editing to do, but I'm grateful to be at this point. My next goal for it is to begin drumming up interest in it through contests, etc., while I edit. So, back to writing.