THE BLOG HOP

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

THE NEXT BIG THING (WEEK 27)

There’s nothing like a deadline to get me moving, especially if it’s only a few hours away and I’m a little curious about how I’m going to handle this particular situation. You see this isn’t my usual post about the old days or that wonderful, patient dog that lets me live here.

Tonight, I’m going back to almost four years ago when I dared venture into the world of writing fiction. It’s been an interesting experience. I’ve “met “ new people (on the internet and by chat sessions), read excerpts of their very interesting but yet-to-be -finished novels, and struggled to make my own stories  passable.

Back to that deadline I spoke of.  A writer friend, Gina Salamon, contacted me wondering if I would be interested in participating in something she had found interesting. Well, it seemed to be simply a matter of linking with other writers and answering a few questions––ten, to be exact, so I agreed and found myself “tagged” to do this question and answer thingy.

It didn’t take long to realize this could lead to some deep thinking ––something I have done very little of since the first of June when I started selling part of my hammered aluminum collection. By “part” I mean three or four hundred items, so I have had been limited on time to think about anything but keeping my computer functioning and keeping up with the various password changes that seem to plague my life.

The Blog Hop gives writers a connections to other writers' thoughts about their writing and current
projects, but could be of interest to others who are interested in what goes into writing a book and the titles of some of the latest to be published.

Following the blog hop rules, I will list each question and follow with my answer. Links to other writer friends and those I’ve tagged will be shown at the end.

What is the working title of your book?

 The title is simply Sarah.

Where did the idea come from for the book?

I’d previously written another story and had opened with prologue, which I later cut. I couldn’t 

bare to send it to the trash and finally expanded it into a story of its own.

What genre does your book fall under?

Historical fiction

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

This is a tough one to answer since I've watched very few movies in recent years.

My main characters are:

Sarah Smith, recently widowed, in her early twenties, a fragile appearing blonde who is a saucy, independent frontier woman. Perhaps Amy Adams. She does saucy, very well.

Seth Hendricks, part owner of a lumbering business who becomes smitten with Sarah’s saucy independence when she defies him, despite believing he is a dangerous outlaw. Later, unable to forget her, he leaves the family’s lumbering business to start a new life and find Sarah, for he realizes she is the woman he wants for his wife. He is apparently doomed to meet Sarah under the most awkward circumstances. Cam Gigandet has been suggested. I'm at a loss, here.

What is the one sentence synopsis of your book?

Wow. I have trouble reducing it into one paragraph, but here goes: Sarah’s independent spirit helps her create a successful business, but leads her into trouble as she tests the restrictions of the customs of the 1870s, and it fails to shield her from her attraction to a man she is determined to hate.

Will your book be self published or represented by an agency?

I have no plans to self publish and would prefer to turn over the entire project to an agency.

How long did I take you to write the first  draft of your manuscript?

That part was quick. It took about six months. A year later I’m still correcting and rewriting.

What other books would you compare this story to within this genre?

I hesitate to make any comparison. I have drawn upon stories of my parent's and grandparent's lives in the 1800s, and although not of the same genre as Larry McMurtry's work, a few of Sarah's  characters have a faint resemblance to those he writes about.

Who or What inspired you to write this book?

It simply grew out of the deleted prologue of my first manuscript. Those were my first words of written fiction and I suppose I couldn’t bear to send them into the trash pile.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

Perhaps the main interest will be in seeing if Sarah learns to see Seth as he really is and not the uncouth outlaw she thought him to be.A romance between the two is expected and waited for. The issue of women's rights and Sarah's own rebellion against the existing laws, are similar to some of the problems of today. I believe many readers will also like to follow the lives of this cast of characters and experience the customs and lifestyles of 150 years ago as our nation moved westward. The characters may be of a long ago era, but they have ambitions to fulfill and prejudices to cope with; they find themselves in dangerous situations,and  must deal with outlaws and crooked politicians.



Dannie Woodard at Rocking Chair Journey http://rockingwithdannie.blogspot.com

 Kate Reid at  http://katereid5.wordpress.com

Gina Salamon at http//gcsalamon.blogspot.com

At these sites you will find other links.

I have contacted the following writers. They have expressed interest but have not yet committed to filling a time slot with their answers to the questions.

Michael Bratton...writer of poetry and a novel in progress
Bobbye Hudspeth... writer of several novels, with one to be released this week-end.http://bobbye-land-hudspeth.jigsy
Sam Wazan.....author of The Last Moderate Muslim
Cynthia Morris...writing coach, author of a helpful blog for writers at : http://www.originalimpulse.com/blog/ and author of a new book, Chasing Sylvia Beach 

A Modern Day Fable

                                                 THE FRUITCAKE COMPETITION

It was two months before Christmas and the day had arrived when two bakers in neighboring towns were to submit to a gathering of purchasers, samples of their highly advertised fruitcakes. Each claimed their concoction was the best and kept its ingredients a closely guarded secret.

The two bakers had prepared their fruit cakes a month before, dousing them with enough of their own special mixture of liquor to assure none of their secret ingredients could be identified.

The baker from Podunk was satisfied that his blend of fruits and nuts had enough old-fashioned ingredients to appeal to the nostalgic memories of the prospective purchasers, and assure him of a satisfying contract.

The Bugscuffle baker had developed an unusual recipe that had a few closely guarded secret ingredients he felt sure would make him the winner.  

With a great amount of fan-fare, the two competing bakers set their cakes on stage for all to view. They were beauties and their fruity aromas filled the room.  The rules of the contest called for the bakers withdrawal from the premises and impartial persons had been chosen to serve a slice of each cake to the would-be purchasers.

The two bakers waited anxiously for the announcement of a winner. Instead, the following morning’s news reported an unusual number of persons complaining of extreme nausea had been admitted to the local hospitals, and that health authorities were trying to pinpoint the cause.

After an investigation of several weeks, including the testing of all the ingredients used by the bakers in their fruitcakes, it was determined that the cause of the illnesses was a few aged nuts in the Podunk baker’s cakes, combined with the special concoction from a bottle labeled malarkey, which had been poured liberally over the Bugscuffle baker’s cakes.

Although the incident received considerable publicity for a few days, the furor soon died away and nobody noticed that a grandmother in a small nearby community had become exceedingly busy as a supplier of fruitcakes to the desperate suppliers who were facing a nationwide shortage of this staple of the holiday season.

The grandmother had guaranteed there would be no malarkey or old stale nuts in her products.

VOTING BEGINS TUESDAY. SORT THROUGH ALL THAT HAS BEEN DISHED OUT IN THIS PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN –DECIDE WHAT IS A BUNCH OF MALARKEY AND WHAT A FEW NUT CASES, HAVE SAID, AND MAKE A VERY CAREFUL CHOICE. 

                                     YOUR FUTURE DEPENDS UPON IT.

Old Things

       There's no explaining one's thought process but several weeks ago I thought of an old book of my childhood. I have no idea what made me think of it or when I last looked at it. I had no idea what had happened to it, but it was long gone. And I wanted to look at it again.
        I became obsessed with the idea. It was out there somewhere. Google can find anything. And sooner or later eBay will have it up for auction.
So I started searching for A Child's Garden of Verses by Robert Louis Stevenson. And it was on eBay. Twelve pages of listings. Fifty books per page.  There was one printed in the late 1800s. There were some with torn pages, some  that were falling apart, and some never opened. From that early one, to reprints  in every decade, I searched for a familiar cover. There were leather backed ones, and tattered ones, children in old-fashioned clothing, and modern-day ones. But never the right book.
          One, belonging to the seller's 93 year old aunt and very well preserved, appealed to me. The $123 price didn't. Some had scrawling pencil marks. I was taught not to write on my books, so those were not considered. Some were inscribed and dated as a gift. Those had no appeal, for that defined them as belonging to someone else. There was a "very rare" one for $200. I passed on that one also.
        Then last week my book appeared. After all these years (at least 80), I recognized it immediately. It was a 1919 issue and priced at $3.70 with one bid and 6 days of the auction remaining. I put in my bid and waited.
Oh how I wanted that book! Finally, in the last few minutes, I could stand it no longer, and entered a ridiculously higher price just to be on the safe side, hoping no one else would be so silly.
      The seconds ticked away and I won my book for only the $4.20 of my first bid. Now I'm looking forward to once more reading those wonderful little verses once more.

       Okay, so I'm in my second childhood. So what! Childhood was fun.


Dannie

A Cynical Senior Citizen

Whoo-ee!

I’ve had all I can take.  The final straw has fallen upon my back. I’ve been beaten down beyond the point of fighting back.  Almost.

My problem? The news–the talk shows–the hypocrisy–the out-of-context quotes–the use of divide and conquer techniques, and the magicians’ tricks of distractions and delusions.

Quiet a list, huh? Yet that’s what we’re being fed every day.

Two days ago, I followed a link to an article reporting on the “lies” of a prominent politician. There were numerous quotes, each followed by a statement that this was “a lie.” There was no explanation of why that statement was labeled a lie. The truth was not explained. Therefore the politician has been branded as dishonest. Whether or not the reader believes these statements are the whole truth is not important. The tiny seed of doubt has been planted.  “Lies” has been coupled with a name.

Recently, we have been shown that there are some very uninformed people running for public offices. People who are not even smart enough to keep their mouths closed about issues they know nothing about. And they expect to be a part of our governing establishment?  We are in deep trouble if the caliber of our potential leaders has sunk this low.

Exactly, how do our leaders get chosen? We know that for most public offices the final choice is up to the voters–but who first supports or endorses these persons? What have they done to make them worthy of running our various governing bodies? And in today’s world of misinformation, what person wants to take the risk of having every misstep, from kindergarten forward, being publicized, exaggerated, and used as fodder for all the pundits’ high-paying shows?

Even our heroes– our icons of accomplishments–are being destroyed. What is the point of pride in watching the gold medal awards of the Olympics only to find later the award is ruled to be undeserved?  Was it? Why this determined pursuit of winner who had followed all the rules and been declared a winner? Who appointed these judges and were they within their rights­–or was this a witch-hunt like those held centuries ago? And why is every word a sixteen-year old accomplished athlete speaks, examined so closely?

We are facing some of the most important issues of our lifetime: How to handle our overwhelming debt; how to keep our freedom of choosing our lifestyle; how to be sure our children get a good education, and how to prepare for security in our twilight years. And to aid us in making our decisions we are facing political ads carefully crafted to influence our opinions. There are quotes from persons who may (or maynot) be qualified to judge the ability of their favored candidate–and there are our reporters, some of whom search for the truth and some who search for the scandalous.

Last night’s late night coverage of the Republican convention seemed rather interesting until it veered off course and turned into an in-depth analysis of what was behind each sentence or why other words were not used; what was the motivation of the speaker and what was their personal agenda ––then it degenerated into a rather nasty round of accusations.  All it took was one small click and I put an end to the report.

Despite all this, I will vote. And I will continue to fume over the pompous statements and opinions expressed by those who assume they know what is best for we ignorant peons. And I must remember, all politicians should not be painted with the same brush. Some deserve tar and feathering. Some merit a gold star. 

When it all gets too tiresome, we need to remember our humorists from days gone by. They often spoke the truth disguised as humor. From Mark Twain, Will Rogers and a former president, this one, attributed to Ronald Reagan, may best sum up the political game:

           “Politics is not a bad profession.

                                  If you succeed,

           There are many rewards;

                                  If you disgrace yourself,

           You can always write a book.”

Ho hum,

Dannie

Dandy's Yogg––A Rough Week Already

Woof, woof. It’s only Wednesday and it has been a rough week already.  Monday I got shots. I thought I was going for a nice ride. Yeah, I rode, all right–right up to the vet’s office and here they come with that “nice Doggie” talk and a needle! 

Then yesterday I sneaked out when My Lady opened the door to look out. Well I paid for that! She didn’t notice I was gone. I scratched on the door and I scratched again and again, hoping that door would open like it sometimes does, and I could sneak in again. I could’ve barked but you know how it is when you’ve been naughty–you hope things work out so it won’t be noticed!

Well, my door scratching finally got My Lady’s attention and she opened the door. That was one surprised person, I can tell you.  She just stared at me, so I ran over to my water bowl and then got in my bed and was real quiet. I think she has it all figured out now, but for a while that was one puzzled lady.

Last night was the worst of all. She sits on my couch and I can see that brush and scissors in her hands. That means trouble, folks! I’m a longhaired fellow and have short legs besides. That a bad mix when I’m out trailing the recent varmints that have visited My Lady’s yard. You see, it’s covered with burr clover gone to seed.

No matter how hard I squirmed and how loud I yelped, she wouldn’t turn me loose. All that “nice Doggie” stuff didn’t impress me one bit. That was cruelty to an animal, and if I didn’t like her so much I’d report her. Decided I’d just sulk instead.

Then she gives me a treat–the hardest, toughest think I’ve ever had in my mouth. Delicious, though. She followed that with a dog biscuit and I thought I’d just save it for a while. Have you ever tried burying a treat in a place with a rock floor? When I head for the little planter box, I get yelled at. If I try to move the sofa pillows, I get yelled at again. After I pretended to give up and go to sleep she forgot about me and I put my treat in my special place between the cushions and the sofa back.

It’s still there this morning but I didn’t have a chance to enjoy it. I got an invitation for another car ride. Now, that’s something I can’t resist. Say “car” and I’m at the door in a split second. This one ended at the groomer’s, so you can imagine what I had to go through to get this new look.  When it was all done and they put me in that crate thing to wait for my ride home, I told them exactly what I thought. I reckon she has had enough practice with dogs that she understood every bark ‘cause she picked up the phone and says “I think he wants to go home, now.” She thinks? Huh!

So here I am–the new me. I've been shot, bathed clipped, dipped, and perfumed.  

And please, don't even think about offering me another car trip this week.

Woof!