The Non-Revision Revision

October 1998: As the Holiday Season approached, I was inspired to write a Christmas tale based on a children's card game called The Wish.

The story's basic plot, the characters, the setting--all began to formulate as I drove from Altus, Oklahoma, to Marlow, Oklahoma, five days a week to teach school, a 172 mile round trip--three hours a day.

Plenty of time to think.

As Halloween approached, the Holiday Season began to blanket me, and the Christmas story wended its way through my brain.

I called the story 'The Wish'. I talked the local newspaper into serializing the story. Two chapters a week were published with the climatic final chapter published on Christmas Eve.

The local newspaper and I received many positive responses from readers, especially children. A few parents said they had cut out the chapters, scrapbooked them, and intended to read the story each Christmas. Some children wanted to know where they could buy the special cards the protagonist used in the story to play the card game The Wish, the same game the protagonist plays and the major plot catalyst for the tale.

After that serial run, I literally handmade several copies of the tale for family for Christmas 1998--this was before the days of PoDers such as Lulu and CafePress.

But, the story went dormant in my files. I had intended to send the tale on the rounds of agents and Houses, but something about the story just didn't feel right.

Halloween 2010: I was thinking about another addition to my previously self-published 'Mr. Creepers Presents FearyTales-Vomit 1'. I had PoDed several copies of 'Feary Tales Vomit 1' from Lulu and gave to family and friends as a 2008 Halloween treat. As I was thinking of the tales to include in 'Feary Tales Vomit 2', I was inspired to pull out 'The Wish', revise it, and make it available for Christmas 2010.

End of school finals, grading essays, the addition of two Grandchildren coming to live with us, and other erstwhile distractions didn't allow me the concentration I needed to put forth a valiant and earnest effort into the tale. So, I put 'The Wish' aside until things settled down, and I had more time.

When my two grandchildren, Caleb and Kyleigh, came to live with us, I decided to read the original version of 'The Wish' to them as their bedtime story, a chapter each night until Christmas Eve.

One night, after I finished reading a chapter of 'The Wish', and after I hugged and kissed the Grands good-night, Kyleigh said, "I want some cards like Angela has." (Angela's the protagonist of 'The Wish'.) "I want to play the Wish game and win a Christmas wish like she did. And I know what I would wish for."

I told Kyleigh I'd think about it.

As I closed the bedroom door, I thought to myself 'Why not?' I had always thought a set of cards as described in the tale would be a nice addition to go along with the book.

Designing, printing, trimming, and making the cards obsessed me for three days. During this spate of non-writing creative activity, the cards I was making for Kyleigh took on a life of their own and looked less and less like the cards I had described Angela had used in the book to get her Christmas wish.

As the cards evolved, the story walked up to the edge of my mind, did a perfect swan dive into the folds of my brain, delved into the deep abyss of dream thought, and then swam through the sea of synapses until it finally came to rest on the sands of Revelation Beach.

Ah, ha! Now I knew what the tale wanted me to do.

As I began to retool the story I soon realized the revision of 'The Wish' had begun not in the usual rewriting and editing of the tale but in the creation of the cards for Kyleigh. The cards told me a similar but better story and helped me to understand the basic problems with the original tale.

I learned three lessons from this:

1. The 'inspiration' for the revision would not have happened without Kyleigh's pleading to make The Wish cards. Plus, the timing was serendipitous as well: The crispness of the cold wind, the colors of the season, the smells of holiday food, the excitement and anticipation on the faces of Children--these only happen for a brief period. I've learned over the years that 'inspiration' does not always lead to Story or Story Revision, but it's a good place to start--to record feelings, events, fears, needs, wants, and dreams--to be quiet and listen to that still small voice.

2. For me, revision and hunger are synonyms--a bear hunting salmon during the spawning season--plenty of fish for the taking, but it's hard work that pays off only with tenacity, stamina, and stubbornness--and how hungry the bear is.

3. NOT actually rewriting the story is often better than trying to force myself to revise when there is no revision 'inspiration', no revision hunger. Making the cards for Kyleigh let me see the story from a different creative point of view, to explore avenues of plot and character, to understand motivation, and to begin the revision process.

Some writers paint, garden, photograph people/nature, restore old cars, and any number of activities not directly related to the craft of tell-tale story making, and such activity actually releases the creative hunger within them.

After the experience of making the Wish cards for Kyleigh, I'm determined to create things (games, cards, pictures, videos, faux newspapers--as in the 'NEVRLAND' tale) based on the story I am revising (or even writing) and open the sluice gates to allow different creative streams to contribute to the irrigational flow of Story Telling.

See you on the bookshelf.

Larry Mike

If I Weren't Crazy, I'd Go Insane

This is an experiment: workshopping my latest novel NEVЯLAND Online for readers and fans.

I'm running naked across the soccer field during the World Cup in front of God and everybody.

Am I crazy to do this? Of course I am.

But, I'm having fun, learning much, seeing Story from a different perspective, and enjoying the community of readers and writers in an organic writing and telling of Story!

One reason I'm doing this is because I live in the boonies and don't have a regular writers support group.

Another reason I'm doing this is because I still have yet to find a critique partner or two with whom he/she and I can be consistent and faithful in responding to and evaluating our respective stories. It's as much my fault as anybody else's.

And still another reason is because I value what readers think and how a reader looks at Story.

At the recent SCBWI, I heard one writer described as a writer's writer. That's really quite a mantle to bestow upon a writer.

Then I got to thinking: which would I prefer? Being a writer's writer or a reader's writer. Actually, somewhere in between would be the best place to be on the bookshelves.

The Twilight Saga is an extremely successful series with Readers despite that many Writers find much fault in the technicalities of the stories themselves; whereas, the Harry Potter series is mega-successful because it is able to run the entire spectrum of Reader-and-Writer approval and appeal to all sensibilities.

(To be honest, I really don't care which direction NEVЯLAND takes as long as the books are flying off the shelves and through the checkout line and/or being downloaded to many, many Kindles, iPads, and Sony E-readers!)

I'm inviting you not just to watch Story in the form of NEVЯLAND being created but to be an active participant--and I want to know what you think, generate ideas about the characters, setting, themes, and be an active participant in the evolution of a story--whether you're a Reader only or Writer-Reader.

The 19th Century Writers such as Dickens and Poe did this to a certain extent, often revising their novels, stories, and poems based on initial reader reaction.

The 21st Century Writer has an even better opportunity to workshop his Story to a larger audience and with much more speed and input than Dickens or Poe could ever imagine!


Feedback is welcomed, encouraged, and expected--even about the typos!

NEVЯLAND Excerpts: An Experiment in Craziness

See you on the bookshelves.

Be well!

Larry Mike

NEVЯLAND—The Making of Literary Sausage

Dear Curious Reader:

Imagine watching Michelangelo paint the Sistine Chapel, starting with the blank ceiling, adding the outline to the figures of God and Adam at the moment of Human creation, and then as he slowly added hue and texture to each scene until he produced one of the greatest works of art in history—the story of Human creation and even destruction in one tiny space in the Universe.

Imagine listening to the first version of “Please, Please Me”, the Beatles first big hit. I’ve heard it. The original is slow, lumbering through a maudlin strain of boy-loves-girl teenage angst. It wasn’t very good until they sped it up and added tonal color to produce a celebration of boy-girl teenage love.

Or, imagine watching a building go up, from ground breaking through foundation laying to framing, and then finally the building is finished. We’re doing that now at Altus High School as we witness a nearly 80-year-old building being transformed to meet the needs of 21^st Century students.

And when the project is done—whether the Sistine Chapel, a great hit song, or a new building—it all looks like magic.

That’s what writing is—hard work that looks like magic in the end. Nathaniel Hawthorne said, “Easy reading is damn hard writing.”

And how many of us have read a good book and said, “That’s easy. I can do that.”

Lebron James makes “easy” clutch shots, eh?

Most readers don’t get the inside look at the making of a novel.

Maybe they shouldn’t. Maybe making a novel, like making sausage, isn’t something people should witness. I love sausage, but I really don’t want to see the butchering, the skinning, the gutting, hack-hack-hacking, and then the squeezing into the casings.

It’s not a pretty sight.

That’s what this is: NEVЯLAND—The Making of Literary Sausage.

I know what you're thinking: Wow! This guy is something else. He's comparing himself to Michelangelo, John Lennon and Paul McCartney, and Frank Lloyd Wright.

No. I'm just using those greats as examples to get your attention, to help those of you who are not writers better understand that no finished work of art or craft comes easily or appears as if by magic, that even the great artists and artisans start from a spark of an idea and go through the phases of butchering, skinning, hack-hack-hacking, and then squeezing into the casing to produce their best work..

Yes, I'm confident in my story—my characters, my plot, my conflicts, my over all scheme—enough so to share it with anyone who wishes to witness the making of NEVЯLAND from the beginning.

And I realize that others look at this confidence as arrogance or even conceit. So be it.

This is new to me, too. I'll stumble in the process. Unlike others, I'm stubborn enough to get up and keep troupering on until I reach the end, one way or another.

Will you like the story? Reading is subjective. Either you will like it or you won't. Or, you'll be stuck between liking and disliking. Maybe you won't like the way it is told. Maybe I use too many adjectives. Maybe I don't use enough adjectives. Maybe I don't show enough or I tell too much. We'll see.

Let me know what you think. You won't hurt my feelings. Well, maybe just a little, but I opened myself up to the slings and arrows.


Even cooks at five-star restaurants have their critics and detractors. I'm no different.

In my previous publications, I've received raves, and I've received rants. It happens. I live with the fact that not everybody will like me, like what I do, like what I create. And this gives me the freedom to go ahead and create freely without the fetters or manacles of popular opinion.


I do welcome feedback—both praise and problems. Something you may not know is that writers don't write in a vacuum. They workshop their tales, letting others read bits and pieces and wholes, receiving feedback, changing and shaping their tales until it's «readable».

While a writer writes first to please himself, he writes secondly (more importantly) to please the reader. A writer without a reader is like an ocean without a shore upon which to crash it's mighty waves majestically.

Here's the link: NEVЯLAND (RAW) Chapter 01


Read well. Read faithfully. Just Read.

Thank you for allowing me into your crowded space of time. I am most grateful and humbled indeed.

See you on the bookshelves.

Larry Mike

Description or Scenework: The Paradox of Story Telling

Description vs. Scenework. Hmmm . . . .

I've been told since day one of the first creative writing class I took and I pay many dollars a year to attend (and I've been paid many dollars to present at) conferences where I am reminded (and I remind others) ad naseum to write in scenes.

Perhaps if I wrote my scenes the way artists painted Good Girl Art covers for those steamy potboiler pulp novels of the 1950s, I'd be able to quit my day job, eh?

When I write a scene, do I view the scene as though I am writing a textbook or putting on a stage play?

Some tales I've read lately go into great protracted descriptive verbiage as though we, the readers, were sitting in our comfy chairs in our parlors in the 19th Century with no other distractions other than the occasional whippoorwill outside our collective windows and little more to do with our time except read long-winded descriptions of the setting, the characters, the time, et cetera.

I know. I wrote such a scene in my WIP YA fantasy tale “Barmaglot”. Worse yet, it was the opening nine pages!

My eagle-eyed critique partner pointed that out to me. I had written fine protracted purple prose. I was quite proud of my wordmanship and expertise with broadsword sentences and extravagant razor-sharp adjectives.

I should have used a dagger instead—quick, simple, efficient, to the point, and much more deadly, as well as (often) unseen until it’s too late.

I thought I had learned my lesson.

In a WIP short story I’m slicing out now, I had what I thought was a strong, well-written paragraph, but something about it bothered me. I showed it to my teaching partner at school, and she was frustrated with the long paragraph, actually a single 60-word sentence broken up by a serious of commas.

All the commas were used properly and sitting in their proper places.

But the scene was exhausting to read.

“Break it up,” she said.

“You don’t like it? I think it conveys the idea nicely.”

“Well, obviously you think something is wrong with it, or you wouldn’t have shown it to me.”

She was right, of course, as usual.

I went back and broke up the long single 60-word sentence into several short, choppy sentences, and the scene tightened up immediately. It gave the reader a sense of hurried walking, which is what I was trying to do with the elongated sentence.

I love the theatre and acting and plays. I’ve written a couple of one-act dramas and still envision a play I’ve written being performed in regional theatre and then on off-off Broadway and then off Broadway and, finally, on Broadway! (Dream big or don’t dream at all.)

After the experiences of my critique partner and my teaching partner, I realized I needed to approach a scene in my novels and short stories the way I would approach a scene in a stage play—action and dialogue to move the story forward and avoid long rambling description, prolonged narrative, and extensive character exposition.

If the scene doesn't play out on stage, it doesn't play out on paper.

Description is necessary in telling a story in written form as a reader only views the setting, characters, and actions through the written word, unlike a stage play or movie.

However, the 19th and early 20th Centuries are long gone and buried with them are the multitude of paragraphs and proliferation of pages of protracted descriptive prose.

Today’s readers just won’t sit through such verbiage. Unless they are being held hostage on the tarmac of a shut-down airport or spending a very long two-day weekend with in-laws they prefer to see as victims of a major crime.

I’ve striving to achieve a happy medium: description with an emphasis on scenework rather than description apart from scenework. The two must be imbued as much as possible if the story is to move along and keep the reader engrossed and entertained and turning those pages and buying my next Great American Novel.

From now on, I'm using a dagger when I write my scenes rather than a broadsword. Using a dagger rather than a broadsword when writing scenes allows me to sneak in the bladed information before my victim (my reader) knows what has happened.

See you on the bookshelves.

Take care,
Larry Mike Garmon

"Alright" is Always "Alwrong"

If you don't write "alwrong" for "all wrong", then why do you write "alright" for "all right"?




As an English teacher and an avid reader, my Inner Editor rarely shuts down.

Sometimes, I'm reading something and Inner Editor will shout out, "Oh, that's just so wrong!" I.E. has the words out of my mouth before my Inner Self-Control can stop them, and then others around me look at me in strange and condemning ways.

Sometimes, I.E. is operating at full capacity, as when I'm grading essays and research papers, readying another writer's draft, or scrounging through my own writing.

Sometimes, I.E. is at half capacity, as when I'm reading a published book or article and come across poor grammar, bad spelling, confused words, et cetera.

Sometimes, I.E. is shut down way low, as when I'm reading my local newspaper's articles, emails from my principal or friends, or notes from parents. The newspaper articles, emails, and notes are so poorly constructed, spelled, and lacking strong word choice that I've learned to ignore the lack of proper writing skills and just try to decode message hidden among the bad grammar, misspellings, poor word choices contained within the newspaper articles, emails, or notes for a bit of understanding.

Once while traveling by plane, I had brought along a book that came highly recommended by another writer because I had a couple of hours between flights. Once in the terminal, I parked my arse on the hard plastic chair, opened the book, and began reading earnestly.

I.E. began screaming "all most" from the first sentence. I don't remember the book (I tend to repress bad memories), but I do remember the terrible editing.

Not remembering the story, plot, characters, setting, and themes of a work but remembering the terrible editing tells you what kind of impression this novel, this story, made on me. Actually, I was cursing first the writer who wrote the errors and then double cursing the editor who let the errors slip past his red pen.

What I remember most about the book (which I stopped reading after page 32) is the use of the word "alright".

Not once was this phrase used correctly in this supposedly well-written book. Not in dialogue, not in inner thought, not in narrative. Not once.

"All right" was used "alwrong" throughout the pages I read.

As with "alot", "alright" doesn't exist in the English language except in student essays, principal's emails, parents' notes, and our local newspapers' articles, as well as stories poorly edited by so-called editors who should know better.

So how did all right become alright?

Alright as a one-word spelling of the phrase all right probably arose by analogy with such words as already and altogether. Although alright is a common spelling in written dialogue and in other types of informal writing, all right is used in more formal, edited writing.

And story stories, non-fiction articles, and novels are supposed to be "formal, edited writing".

The problem is that we have writers and editors who were never taught that "alright" is all wrong and were allowed to get away with such poor writing skills in elementary school, high school, college, and grad school and are ignorant of their blundering.

So, poorly edited books are thrust upon a reading public with such words as "alright" replete throughout the story.

In "alhonesty", the vast majority of the reading public probably doesn't know the difference any way, so why should writers and editors care?

I don't know the difference between the chemical make-up of aspirin and cyanide, but I certainly hope the manufacturer who does know the difference doesn't get lazy or tired or distracted one day and confuse the two, alright?.

If we don't write "alwrong" for "all wrong", then why do we write "alright" for "all right"?

Because we're lazy, we're ignorant of the error, and we've got editors who don't know any better and, like those errant teachers of our school days, allow us to get away with poor writing.

Do a manuscript word find. How many "alright" errors are highlighted, including dialogue? (Exclude the dialectal "awright").

Although, "alright" will almost certainly slip past the young editor right out of college or grad school where he wasn't corrected on his poor writing skills, that doesn't mean the writer, the true wordsmith and craftsman, must tolerate poor writing skill.s

See you on the bookshelves.

Larry Mike Garmon

Curdling Up to a Prologue

The Prologue—ah, yes, the writer’s device by which he can begin his story twice within the span of several pages.

The Prologue is often employed because the writer believes his real beginning, that ubiquitous Chapter One, is all too weak to fully grasp the reader by the eyeballs and pull him into an engrossing story.

The solution to a weak Chapter One? Add the life-saving Prologue to sex up the story, provide teasers, tantalize the reader, interest that agent or editor.

For my present project, “Barmaglot”, a YA fantasy, I actually wrote two Prologues.

The first was a rambling fluff prose scene from the middle of the novel. The scene is repeated word-for-word at a crucial point of the story about 2/3s of the way into the tale.

I submitted this first Prologue for critiquing at a conference, and while my editor liked my story concept, she told me to get rid of the Prologue and just start with the story itself. I had never before heard that advice (or I wasn’t listening closely enough).

I got rid of the first Prologue but wrote a second as I didn’t feel Chapter One was exciting enough to begin the tale.

The second Prologue for “Barmaglot” was a literary trailer of sorts, a scene that didn’t appear anywhere in the story but only provided an interesting set of background events to lure the reader into reading further. This second Prologue had nothing to do with the actual beginning of the story, but I wrote it because I thought, “Ah, ha! This will get the reader interested enough to hook him into the story and, therefore, by the time he gets to Chapter One, he’ll be sufficiently hooked as to want to read the rest of the tale.”

My novel "Return of Evil" (Scholastic, ISBN-13: 978-0439208468) actually had three different beginnings--a two-part Prologue and then a Chapter one.

The first half of the Prologue was set at night.

The second half of the Prologue jumped back in the past some 24 hours.

The third beginning started at the present time of the story as Chapter one.

My editor told me it was a difficult way to start a novel but that it made sense, so she left it alone.

I don't advise beginning a novel in such away, and I wouldn't write the beginning of "Return of Evil" in the same way.

Instead, today I'd begin "Return of Evil" as Anna Myers begins her "Time of the Witches" (Walker Books, ISBN-13: 978-0802798206).

Anna begins "Time of the Witches" with Chapter One but hides a bit of a prologue in the beginning of the chapter as the narrator explains the difficult circumstances of her birth. This "prologue" is expanded upon later in the novel when the narrator is told the difficult circumstances of her birth by the midwife who birthed her years earlier.



I’ve tossed both Prologues to “Barmaglot” like a person spits out soured milk when he drinks it not realizing the milk has curdled.

Also, one of my novels being shopped around now (“The Calamari Code”) originally had an exciting Prologue, one I liked very much. I originally put the novel on the market with the Prologue firmly and snuggly attached to the beginning. The scene in the Prologue is repeated much later in the novel, but in a shortened form, and I was relying on my reader to remember the exciting events of the Prologue some 150 pages earlier.

What was I thinking?

When I sent out the query and the first ten pages of “The Calamari Code” on its third round of agents and editors, I tossed the Prologue with all the enthusiasm of ending a bad relationship.

And, ta-da! Surprise: Less than two weeks later, I got two requests for the entire novel within hours of each other.

To Prologue or Not to Prologue, that is the question.

A Prologue is often background material, a set-up of the past to foreshadow future events or a setting that will appear somewhere in the story at a later period whereby the reader now fully understands the significance of the Prologue itself.

It’s a matter of preference and there are no hard and set rules; however, if the reader can get right to the story without wading through a Prologue, wading through background, the story moves more quickly.

If the Prologue is a scene repeated later in the story, the reader may skip over the repeated scene not realizing additional information may be contained within the re-minted scene, and the last thing a reader wants is a reader skipping through his story.

That’s like a person watching a movie and using the fast forward button to skip through the slower and, often, more boring parts of a film.

I watched the movie “Vantage Point” and about the umpteenth time the assassination scene was shown from another character’s point of view, I had had enough and kept saying, “Just get the Hell on with the story all ready! I get your point. Geez!” Three quarters of the movie is pure Prologue.

The actual story in “Vantage Point” makes up about 25 minutes of the movie. The other 65 minutes is Prologue repeated ad nauseam from different vantage points of various characters. After the third vantage point, I was bored.

Prologues are used on three occasions. Adding a Prologue to a story depends on “when” the Prologue takes place.

1. If the Prologue’s an event in the past that has ramifications on the present events of the story, why not just call it “Chapter One”, give it date, and then segue into “Chapter Two—The Present”?

2. If the Prologue is used as a teaser for something that will happen later in the story, then it slows down the action of the story’s real beginning.

3. If the Prologue is a past event used to give clues to the story in its present setting, then you can just add that information where it comes into play in the story and eliminate the Prologue and “Just get on with it”, as Monty Python would say.

Essentially, what a writer is doing when he places a Prologue in his story is writing Two Beginnings—he’s working twice as hard to hook the reader. If the story is not hook-ish enough with one beginning, Two Beginnings ain’t gonna make it any more interesting.

The three Prologues I wrote for my two novels did help me to understand my story and establish setting, characters, and voice. The three Prologues served a purpose, but they served my purpose and not necessarily the purpose of the reader.

The three Prologues were actually short stories without the resolution of conflict—which is not a bad thing, but why not just get on with telling the tale?

Prologues are like a musical’s Overtures—a brief interlude to allow the audience to seat itself, to quiet itself, to get itself ready to enjoy an intriguing tale told in song and dance. The Overture gives snippets of the musical pieces to come, but the Overture is not the musical story and is unnecessary to the overall plot of the musical tale itself.

If the orchestra never played the Overture, the story would still be judged and stand on its own merits. No lover of stage musicals or critics ever commented on or like/disliked the musical based upon the Overture, only on the over all story itself.

Prologues like Overtures are unnecessary, overused, and abused.

To repeat Monty Python: “Let’s get on with it!”

So, where do I begin my story?

“The Sound of Music” answers that question:

Maria:
Let's start at the very beginning
A very good place to start
When you read you begin with

Child (Gretyl):
ABC

The Naked Writer 02: Goosing the Reader

Why are you reading this particular blog?

Was it the title?

Perhaps this blog is just one of many on your list, and you're looking for a few blogs about writing that appeal to you as a fledgling author or an experienced author like me who likes to be juiced every now and then.

Perhaps you were exploring the blog-o-sphere and came across the title The Naked Writer, giggled a little as you imagined a writer sitting butt-naked in front of his or her computer (hopefully not in a leather chair!), and then decided to read the blog for perhaps a titillating description of the aforementioned naked writer, imagining him to be Brad Pitt or her to be Angelina Jolie.



Well, I goosed ya! I've given you a big goose pinch on the arse side of your salacious intellect and, so far, I haven't gotten my face slapped across the blog-o-sphere.

The Goosed Ya Factor is at the heart of all good writing because the end result of all good writing is to be read by readers.

And the Goosed Ya Factor begins with the first word of the first sentence of the first paragraph of the first page of the first chapter. It's emotionally and intellectually goosing the reader into saying, "Oh!" in a silent, mental shrill.

Goosed Ya begins when the reader has forgotten about the author and has begun concentrating on the story from the opening sentence.

From the time we are children, we are told, "Look don't touch."

We can't help touching, though. We're tactile beings. We're attracted to something, and we want to touch it. Even people. Such touching, however, will get us into trouble at the mall, on the bus, or in the subway.

Writers like readers. Readers help us to make a living. But, we've got to get their attention from the beginning, to leave a good impression with the reader so the reader reads on.

As writers, we don't do anything normally. Instead of walking up to our readers and saying, "Hi, I'm So-and-So," we goose them with words—images evoking emotions—and hope they will like the pleasant conversation (story) that follows.

The following are the opening sentences to both newer and older works. Each of these has the Goosed Ya opening, the sentence that immediately causes the reader to want to read the next sentence and the next sentence after that. Can you name the stories that have the following Goosed Ya openings?

1. "Where's papa going with that ax?"
2. "It was a dark and stormy night."
3. "On the whole of dull dark and soundless day in the autumn of the year when the clouds hung oppressively low . . . ."
4. "Call me Ishmael."
5. "Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much."
6. "Get your hand off my breast!"
7. "The first time I met him?"
8. “Something was about to happen. Nona, Archangel of Nth, could feel it in her bones. She sat on the edge of the cloud strumming her lute and wondering what the day would bring.”
9. "It was a pleasure to burn."

You'll notice that quotes 1, 4, 6, and 8 begin with an action.

Quotes 2 and 7 tell us immediately we're going to be reminiscing. Also, quote 2 is a writer's joke and any writer who has study his craft will recognize the jest Madeleine L'Engle is making.

Quotes 3, 5, and 9 present a specific and interesting scene or person or thought.

Quote 4 not only begins with the action word "Call" but also introduces the main character as well as the entire theme of the work to follow in three words by using a Biblical allusion!

Quote 7 is a question in response to previous question: from whom? The reader, an unknown friend?

Also, quote 8 is an invitation. For whom is the invitation? The reader or a character in the story?

Answers:

1. Charlotte's Web, E.B. White
2. A Wrinkle in Time, Madeleine L'Engle
3. "The Fall of the House of Usher", Edgar A. Poe
4. Moby Dick, Herman Melville
5. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, J.K. Rowling
6. See the end of this blog for the answer to this one.
7. The Greatest Miracle in the World, Og Mandino
8. See the end of this blog for the answer to this one also.
9. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

I must admit: as I wrote this blog entry, I couldn't remember the answer to Quote 7. I thought and thought and thought; still, the answer wouldn't come to me.

I remembered the story in its entirety: The opening, the middle, and the end. I have the image of a red rose against a snowy background. An old man teaches a younger man. I remembered the story left me a little sad but wiser and helped to fill a void in my life at that time. I remembered the author's name, did a web search, and then perused the various reviews of his best selling books until I hit upon the book that reminded me of the title to which that particular quote, "The first time I met him?", belonged.

That's the Goosed Ya Factor. I had been so impressed with the opening and then the entire story that I had remembered the story and had forgotten the book and the author.

That's good writing.

The Goosed Ya Factor focuses immediately on the characters and the story to follow not the author and his worldview.

Look at your opening: do you have that Goosed Ya Factor in whatever you're working on now?

Recently, one of my critique partners chided me—correctly, of course—for not having the Goosed Ya Factor in my present novel. In fact, she told me she had gotten to Page Nine before she even knew what the story was about. She was correct of course, and I am grateful for her insight and her patience in sticking with my story through eight pages of protracted purple prose.

I’ve tossed the first eight pages my novel and have rewritten the opening chapter, and I’m quite pleased with the result.

How does your story begin? Thusly?

"The sky was an angry gray that soon turned into a dark frown of rumbling thunder."

That's the author speaking, becoming visible and showing off his ability to type adjectives about the weather and not use his skill to evoke a tell-tale story.

I like storms. I like personification. I even like mixed metaphors when they are presented humorously.

However, I like people more than clouds and thunder and metaphors, and I'd rather read about the angry gray expression and dark frown of a person than get a weather report.

But, I hear you saying, “I’m establishing mood.”

Poe established mood with his weather opening of “The Fall of the House Usher”. Poe was quite popular. Poe will be studied long after we are dead and our scribblings forgotten. But, Poe wrote in the first half of the 19th Century for an audience who spent hours reading, and Poe didn’t compete against television, radio, the Internet, networking, video games, TiVO, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

Even Shakespeare expends much stage energy discussing the weather in his plays, especially his tragedies.

However, if Poe and Shakespeare were alive today, they would be different writers—still great writers, but different from their 19th Century and 16th Century personas.

Indeed, they would begin their stories and plays much differently because both Poe and Shakespeare wrote to be read by giving their respective audience what it collectively wanted to read and see.

"Harley Simmons awoke with an angry gray scowl that turned into a dark frown as he turned over to find she was gone again."

The author has just goosed me. My "Ya Just Goosed Me!" curiosity is now aroused. I can imagine all sorts of scenarios to follow, and none are too pleasant, I might say.

Not only am I presented with an immediate conflict that will lead to a future confrontation, but I have been presented with past history as well with the simple addition of the adverb again.

And why is Harley awaking "with an angry gray scowl"? Did he go to bed angry? Did he have a bad dream? Did they have bad sex? Does he naturally wake up angry? Or, did he go to sleep the previous night expecting to wake up to find "her" gone and, therefore, not only has he awaken in a foul mood, we can assume he went to bed in a foul mood and slept in a foul mood and had foul dreams.

Uh-oh. Big trouble brewing.

To be honest, I don't know what happens next. I just made that up as an example of the difference between a meteorologist turned writer and writer who wants to be published by, first and foremost, attracting the attention of an agent or an editor.

Author's Note:

Quote 6: "Get your hand off my breast!" is from one of my short stories called "The Turning Away" and it refers to fried chicken.

Quote 8: “Something was about to happen. Nona, Archangel of Nth, could feel it in her bones. She sat on the edge of the cloud strumming her lute and wondering what the day would bring.”
is from my angel fantasy novel Exaltation.

I know what you're thinking: This guy must think he's really something to include himself among those great authors!

My only reply to your astonished indignation is, Hey, it's my blog!

Until next time: Keep writing.

See you on the bookshelves.

Larry Mike Garmon

The Naked Writer 01: Show some Flesh for Maximum Exposure

And so, here we are. My story and I. Paolo and Francesca. Naked both in life and death. Aware, shamed, repentant in our sins but not in our live.

And Francesca whispers to me:

"Love, that can quickly seize the gentle heart,
took hold of him because of the fair body . . . .

Love, that releases no beloved from loving,
took hold of me so strongly that through his beauty
that, as you see, it has not left me yet."
--Canto V, 100-105, Dante's Inferno



Writing about truth and beauty and all those other themes with which writers are so concerned is as easy as taking off your clothes in front of your family, friends, neighbors, and the entire world and letting everyone explore your body without limits or without protest. Writing is making unbridled passionate love to your beloved in front of the whole world and not be being embarrassed. In order to expose the world, you've got to expose yourself as well.

In the movie American Beauty, Lester Burnham asks his two health-conscious Gay neighbors for tips on getting in shape.

"Are you looking to just lose weight, or are you looking to have increased strength and flexibility as well?" one asks him.

Burnham replies, "I wanna look good naked."

So, you're a "writer." Good for you. Are you looking to just exorcise yourself of the inner demons you feel have been possessing you all your life -- in other words, writing is just therapy for you -- or are you looking to have increased popularity and be your own boss as well?

Whatever your reasons for wanting to be a writer, you had better make sure you look good naked.

If you want to be a writer who desires more than dinner table and conference accolades from family and friends, be prepared to get naked psychologically, spiritually, morally, personally, and emotionally.

Now, here's the Catch-22 akin, here's the fine print on the contract with the Devil that we never know about until Old Scratch comes to claim our souls:

While you have to expose your inner most self, lay yourself bare on the world's examination table, you must also be invisible, to disappear so that your reader does not see you; instead, the reader sees the characters and the story, and that's all.

Even though this blog is called The Naked Writer, it is not about writers at all. It is about writing honestly and invisibly.

Og Mandino became a celebrity with his books The Greatest Secret in the World, The Greatest Salesman in the World, and then The Greatest Miracle in the World, but his work is so well written the writer virtually disappears in stories that expose human truth, human lies, human triumphs, human defeats, and human joy and sorrow.

Og Mandino exposed his soul in his books, but one never gets the impression the books are about Og Mandino. Rather, the books are about the human condition. The books are about us.

And such is the paradox of the writing profession in general and the paradox of this blog in particular. To be a good writer, one needs to expose himself personally, spiritually, morally, psychologically, and emotionally.

Yet, the writer must remain in the background, unseen and unheard and unobtrusive into the lives of the characters who live and breathe in their own particular worlds.

Of course, we have writers like Mark Twain, Ernest Hemingway, (the present-day) Tom Wolfe, H.P. Lovecraft, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and, yes, Dante--all were (are) successful and are still quite popular despite the fact that you cannot separate the writer from his characters.

They are just as honest and just as genuine as Mandino, but their stories are blatantly about themselves.

As a reader, I am selfish enough to want to read stories that include me as well, and I do not want to necessarily interact with the author but with characters with whom I can relate and debate.

The writer who is not able or capable of "getting naked" in front of a group of strangers without drawing attention to himself will fail to get beyond the dinner table and conference accolades of family and friends.

Writing naked (or, is it "nakedly") is not the "Emperor's New Clothes."

Writing naked is H.G. Wells' The Invisible Man. We wear the clothes but remain invisible ourselves.

Take away the clothes and we, the writers, are naked but still invisible because the clothes, the stories and characters, are what are important not who wears (writes) them.

See you on the bookshelves.

Larry Mike Garmon

The Naked Writer No. 2: The Goosed Ya Factor
The Naked Writer No. 3: Spanking the Monkey

That That Is Is That That Is Not Is Not

One of my favorite movies when I was a bit younger was Charly, loosely based on Daniel Keyes’ short story and novel “Flowers for Algernon”.

We used to teach “Flowers for Algernon” in high school freshman and sophomore English classes. I think political correctness has banned it from the student experience as I haven’t seen it in a lit text book in many years.

To the point, during one scene in the movie, Charly Gordon the scientists stand Charly in front of a chalk board and give him a grammatical problem to solve and to gage his IQ.

Charly has an IQ of 68 and has been chosen as a human guinea pig for a new drug designed to increase human intelligence and do away with mental retardation. (Yes, Stephen King ripped off the story in his “Lawnmower Man”.)

Here’s the grammatical problem that so frustrated the slow-witted Charly:

that that is is that that
is not is not is that
it it is

When he first sees it, Charly has no clue what the hell he’s supposed to do let alone what the words mean.

Neither did the audience—including a 13-year-old me.

And “that” is the subject of this Self-Editing 101.

Writers, both experienced and neophyte, use the word “that” as though they are paid extra for every “that” thrown into a sentence.

As with “to Be”, “that” is overused and often abused.

Okay, here’s the real boring part: reminding you how the word “that” functions in an English sentence—in other words, Grammar Time:

Use “that”

1. to introduce a restrictive clause
2. as a demonstrative pronoun
3. as a complementizer

Examples:

1. Restrictive clause = I saw two movies yesterday: one that was exciting and the other one that was boring.
2. Demonstrative Pronoun = That was excellent. (referring to the movie)
3. Complementizer = I hope that you bring your books and pencil to class.

Now, open up any three pages of your latest opus and do a “Crtl+F”.

Type “that” in the “Find what:” window and hit “Highlight” and then click on “Highlight All”. (I’m assuming you’re using a version of MS-Word. Open Office also has this feature.)

Does your text glow with the yellow highlight?

Each of the above examples is a perfectly well-written and grammatically correct English sentence.

However, if these three sentences appeared one after the other, the use of “that” becomes annoying and numbing to the mind.

Readers—especially our modern, text-driven readers— don’t read sentences so much as “skip” through sentences.

Complicated, long, rambling, and wordy sentences may demonstrate the writer’s cleverness of language, but such sentences numb today’s harried reader.

Redundancies of semi-ambiguous words such as “that” have the same effect.

Using “that” so often is also another example of the lazy writing habits often accepted by teachers, editors, writers, and readers.

Each of the three examples can be written and read with understanding without “that”:

1. I saw two movies yesterday: an exciting one and a boring one.
2. The movie was excellent.
3. I hope you bring your books and pencils to class.

Look at all those yellow highlighted “that”s in your manuscript. Take out as many as possible or even rewrite sentences to tighten up your sentences while keeping your meaning clear and precise.

The hardest “that” to get rid of is the “that” used as the Demonstrative Pronoun, and you shouldn’t, really, especially in character dialogue.

Demonstrative Pronouns are necessary and not as evilly overused as the Restrictive and Complentizer Pronouns. The Demonstrative Pronouns include “that”, “this”, “which”, and “who” (as well as their plurals).

Demonstrative and Personal Pronouns prevent passages such as the following:

I like Citizen Kane. Citizen Kane is an excellent movie. Citizen Kane inspired me to write stories in a non-linear style. I recommend everyone not only see Citizen Kane but read the screenplay Citizen Kane as well.

Egad.

I like Citizen Kane. That is an excellent movie. It inspired me to write stories in a non-linear style. I recommend everyone only see Citizen Kane but read its screen play as well.

Charly is quite a sad story and movie. I finally understood the meaning of the word “catharsis” after seeing that movie. I even found and read the book, which saddened me even more.

At one point in the story, I am cheering for Charly. After a few weeks on the “smart” drug, he confronts the chalkboard and its enigmatic grammatical message.

Without hesitation, he solves the grammatical problem and walks away, leaving the scientists in awe of his dramatic increase in intelligence:

that that is is that that
is not is not is that
it it is

That, that is, is. That, that
is not, is not. Is that
it? It is.

I Crow for the Cock

I am usually awake before 4:30 AM. I developed this habit during the National Novel Writing Month in November 2009. I had to.

I teach high school senior English as well as Comparative Mythology and Speculative Fiction.

Plus, I teach a freshman composition class at the local junior college.

I don’t have much spare time.

I’ve tried writing when I get home after school, but it’s a pain in the ass.

My brain is fried by the end of the day. I’m physically and mentally exhausted from dealing with hundreds of high school seniors who would rather do anything but study Hamlet or write documented essays or even bring a pencil to class.

The administration is only interested in holding me accountable that every student meets the minimum state requirement for graduation—those very students who think I’m something of a taskmaster for requiring them to bring a pencil to class.

It’s as though someone has attached a set of jumper cables to the left and right sides of my brain and then drained all the emotional, creative, physical, and spiritual energy out of me.

So, as NaNoWriMo 2009 approached, I determined I would get up early to write before heading off to Placebo High and then use the evening for revisions, some writing, and planning out the next scene in my story.

It worked. I wrote over 67,000 words in 30 days.

Now I’m in a massive revision phase while getting my next story underway.

I have three morning alarms.

The digital clock with the red-lit numbers is set 20 minutes faster than American Central Time, and although the clock’s face reads 4:20 when the radio alarm sounds, it’s really only 4 AM. I usually hit the 9-minute snooze twice before finally getting up.

I’ve notice lately, though, I’ve been getting up when the alarm sounds the first time.

My second alarm comes from my cell phone. Set at the correct time, it chimes at 4:30 AM—Pachelbel's Canon in D major. This composition is one of my favorite tunes, and hearing it five mornings a week sets my mood for taking on the writing task at hand.

I usually read my subscribed blogs first, check the news, check the emails, and let my mind and body adjust to wakefulness.

I’ve thought about adding some morning exercises to my routine, but one thing at a time.

Then I write. Usually until 6:30 AM. That’s when the third alarm sounds to remind me I have a daytime job for which I need to prepare.

I laugh at my students who drag themselves into my morning classes, who are tired from having played video games until 4:30 AM. I am proud to boast to them that I was getting up to start my day when they were going to bed.

A few weeks ago I had to get up at 3:30 AM as I had rough drafts of senior research papers to read through, and I didn't want to take time away from my writing.

"My God," a fellow teacher said to me. "Why in Hell do you get up so early?"

My simple answer: "My greatest nightmare is that when I retire from teaching I find myself wearing a blue vest with a name tag IDing myself as 'Mike' and saying to the kids that come through the door, 'Would like a smiley face sticker, little girl?'"

To me, some things in life are much worse than getting up at 4 AM to fulfill my life's desire of writing.

Someone has chickens not far from my house. About an hour after I have already started my day, I hear the cock crow.

I just smile.

For whom does the Cock crow? Not for me. I crow for the Cock.

To Be, or Not To Be: Getting Rid of hose Pesky "to Be" Verbs

My students have just finished that all important cultural "trial by fire" and are one step closer to being full-fledged members of the Adult Society: The Senior Research Paper.

Or, as we call it nowadays: a documented essay.

I like this time of year--the senior research project--because it gives me some breathing space to get caught up on grading and other school paperwork and it also helps me to refocus my efforts on my own writing and its flaws.

Teaching others to write clearly, properly, and with a purpose is the best way to hone your own craft.

By the time I get high school seniors, the damage done by previous English teachers has pretty well permanently set in.

One of the more egregious outrages is the over use of the "to Be" verb and passive sentences.

Here's the dreaded "to Be" verb list: is, am, are, was, were, be, being, been.

Whew!

Any writer who doesn't know that writing in passive sentences is verboten is not doing her homework.

Because previous English teachers did not effectively teach to my students exactly what constitutes a passive sentence (S+to be past tense+action verb+prep+object), I have to try to do so in the short time I've got them.

No such luck.

So, instead of trying to teach what should have been taught in grades 7 through 11, I have one simple rule:

In your 1,500 documented essay you may not employ more than five (5) "to Be" verbs (direct quotes excluded).

After my students have completed their first draft, they hunt for "to Be" verbs like a crackhead looking for his next hit.

And they find dozens and dozens and they begin rewriting and editing furiously to rid themselves of those pesky "to Be" verbs.

"Why, Mr. Garmon? Oh, why? What's wrong with a 'to Be'?" they say, their doe eyes staring at me.

Nothing, I reply. Except you use too many and since you don't know what a passive sentence is, getting rid of your "to Be" verbs will eliminate that problem.

Here's an example of a passive sentence:

The ball was hit by the boy.

Of course, this is an easy one. The subject should be the one who is doing the "hitting" while the object should be the thing being "hit". Easy enough to correct.

The boy hit the ball.

Here's a tougher one:

I was taught not to write in passive sentences by wonderful and intelligent English teacher.

No one in the world will misunderstand the previous sentence or the passive sentence before that. However, both sentences focus on the wrong subject and separate the true subject from the action verb.

My wonderful and intelligent English teacher taught me not to write in passive sentences.

The action verb is right after the true subject, making this an active sentence.

Passive sentences are easy once you teach yourself to look for and correct them.

However, I get most upset with the following type of sentence:

There is the man who hit me.

I go a bit ballistic when I read a sentence like that, whether in a student paper or a Stephen King door stopper.

Since when is "there", "here", "it" the subject of a sentence? Okay, so "it" can be, but only if it has an antecedent somewhere in the vicinity!

Why not write the sentence thusly:

The man who hit me is standing by the bridge.

Again, the subject performing the action becomes the focal point of the sentence. The action verb is next to the subject, and the object is directly after the action verb (hence, the label "direct object").

To show my students that experienced writers make this common mistake, I took two pages of one of my stories and did a "to Be" word search.

I had 41 "to Be" verbs on the first two pages of that first draft. I had several passive sentences and a dozen sentences beginning with "Here is", "There are", "It is".

--It was a beautiful day.
--Here is the book I borrowed.
--There are several people in your office.

Nothing wrong with any of those sentences.

Except, what exactly is the subject and what action is really being addressed each of these sentences?

--The day dawned bright and clear.
--"Thank you for letting me borrow this," I said as I handed the book to Jim.
--Several people are waiting in your office.

I know what you're thinking: I don't have time to try to find all those pesky "to Be" verbs.

Really? While you will probably sell with numerous "to Be" verbs in your text, if you take a little extra time to remove them and rewrite your sentences, you'll find your writing becomes clearer and easier to write and to read.

As Nathaniel Hawthorne once opined: Easy reading is damned hard writing.

Good writing is craft writing.

MS-Word has a great and quick method to finding those "to Be" verbs.

The “Reading Highlight” feature is one of the most useful tools in the MS-Word arsenal, but the RH is an especially neat way to check your writing for passive voice use.

What Reading Highlight does is perform a search, but instead of taking you to the next instance of your search terms, it highlights all instances throughout the text.

To use Reading Highlight,

--select a highlight color from the “Home” tab, then hit CTRL-F to bring up a search window.
--Enter your search term or phrase, click the “Reading Highlight” drop-down, and select “Highlight All”.
--Click “Close” and watch your highlights appear.
--To remove the highlighting, re-open the search box, click the “Reading Highlight” drop-down, and select “Clear Highlighting”.
--Again, click “Close” and the highlighting will be gone.

How do you use this to find passive sentences and those "Here is", "There are", and "It is" beginning phrases?

Well, we know most passive statements use the verb “to be” in some form or another. So we want to search for “be” in all its variants: is, was, are, am, were, etc.

Open the search dialog (CTRL-F),
--type “be” as your search term, and click the “More” button.
--Put a check in the box next to “Find all word forms”, click the “Reading Highlight” button and select “Highlight All”, and click “Close”.
--Now, every permutation of “to be” will be highlighted.
--Not all of them are going to be passive — or too passive, anyway — but many will.
--Rewrite all those sentences to have more active verbs.

Using "to Be" verbs for anything other than linking verbs or helping verbs is a bad habit.

Any habit learned can be unlearned.

Once you unlearn to use "to Be" verbs in every sentence, your writing will improve, your prose will shine, and that agent, editor, and reader will appreciate your hard work in making their task (reading your story) easier!

PS: Don't confuse clear, concise writing with character dialogue. Characters, in dialogue or in first person POV, can use all the "to Be" verbs and passive sentences they desire. But, you, as the third-person omniscient narrator ought to know better!

Crafty Critique Partner Wanted--Honesty (w/Compassion) a Must

Why do I feel like I'm on one of those dating sites looking for that special partner/buddy?

Egad.

Last fall, I had the honor of being a presenter at the 2009 SCBWI-OK conference in September.

Listening to Cynthea Liu and Tami Sauter´s presentation on Revision 4-1-1 was rewarding, and this old dog learned a few new tricks, as always.

However, I was quite jealous of the critique partner relationship so evident between the two. So, I´ve decided to advertise for my own special critique buddy.

Subscribing to the principle that honesty without compassion is cruelty, anyone who is considering applying for the job should know that I have two ultimate goals as a writer: to produce the best literature I can and to help others produce the best literature they can.

Mike McQuay was my writing mentor in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. He died of a heart attack in 1995. He helped me to focus my talents as a writer. The best critique he gave was about a short story of which I was quite proud. I was proud of my plot, my cleverness of word play, and the ingenious way in which I ended the story. I just knew Mike would tell me that he had contacted his agent and publisher about what a writing genius I was.

"This is shit," Mike said when he gave me back my story. "You either need to get serious about writing as a career, or just give it up."

I went home and cried. I also got quite pissed off at his bluntness (anybody who knew Mike will remember he came across as quite arrogant and a bit insensitive).

So, through the tears and the bludgeoned ego, I wrote another story. I´d prove to that S.O.B. I could write a well-crafted story, and then I´d tell him to cram his story course up his arse.

Two weeks later, Mike handed back my short story and said, "Damn. I wish I´d written that."

I was quite humbled indeed. I didn´t punch him like I wanted to do originally. I just took my short story, sat back down, and then took notes of his lecture for that evening.

Don´t worry: if you apply for the job and pass the interview, I won´t be as blunt as Mike. I will, however, be compassionately honest in both praise and suggestions, and I’d expect nothing less in return. After all: getting your work and my work PUBLISHED isn’t everything—it’s the ONLY THING!

So, here´s my ad for a critique partner:

Young Adult Speculative Fiction writer in need of critique partner--doesn´t have to be a Spec Fic writer or a published author--just someone with a passion for the art and craft of story telling--with emphasis on CRAFT.

Writing samples upon request and please send samples of your best writing.

I´m a 27-year veteran high school and college English teacher with master´s work in creative writing I´ve had 14 YA novels published by Scholastic and Simon and Schuster, but that doesn´t mean I´ve arrived by any ways or means.

Please respond to Talewright@GMail.com

Thank you.