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

How Do You Make that Backwards Я?

One of the questions I am asked about NEVЯLAND is–How the hell do you make that backwards “R”?

First, it’s not actually an “R”. It’s the Russian letter Я–pronounced YA. It’s also the first person singular pronoun “I” in Russian.

And I make Я with a simple mouse click that switches my English keyboard setting to a Russian keyboard setting on my Mac (PC can do it, too).

Mac has an upper task window, and my window shows an American flag to tell me I’m using the English keyboard setting.

When I want to type Russian letters, I click on the American flag, a drop menu appears with a Russian flag in it. I then click on the Russian flag, and VOILA! My keyboard is transformed into a Russian keyboard.

(Not the actual letters printed on the keys, of course–I have a picture of a Russian keyboard taped to my wall to show me where the Russian letters are located as if I were using a real Russian keyboard.)

Once I type Я, I click on the Russian flag in my Mac’s upper task window, click on the American flag in the drop down menu, and I’m back to using the English keyboard setting.
On the Russian keyboard, the Я letter is where the English letter Z is located.

As I typed the outline for the first book, I had to come up with a NAME for the book and the series.

I must have a NAME when I write a book as the NAME suggests a theme for me and helps keep me focus.

The title NEVERLAND came quite easily, but I didn’t like the way it looked.

I played around the the spelling:

NEVRLAND

NEVRLAN

NVRLND

And none of them felt right. I continued outlining.

So, I’m plotting Chapter Three: Laynie, who has witnessed the hysterical chaos that has taken over Junebug and is horrified by the death of a couple of children, is determined to ride her bike out of Junebug to her grandmother’s farm about three miles outside of town.

However, in her panic, she forgets about the invisible wall surrounding the city and imprisoning the children.

She peddles up to the city limits at full speed and crashes into the invisible barrier. She’s thrown forward. Her head slams into the invisible wall, and she’s knocked out.

As she regains consciousness, she hears a hissing sound and a terrible metallic sharp odor assails her nostrils.

When she’s fully awake, she sees Cassie, a classmate from Junebug Junior High spray painting in the air–and the letters are hanging in the air on the invisible wall.

Cassie is a mainstreamed special education student classified as an Idiot-Savant who is a genius at math but has little to no social or verbal skills.

She likes to listen to audio stories, though, and her favorite story is Peter Pan.

She tells Laynie that a Blue Fairy has visited Junebug during the night and has taken all the adults away, including her parents.

Laynie realizes that Cassie is confusing two stories: Peter Pan and Pinocchio.

Pinocchio features the Blue Fairy, a motherly figure who helps Pinocchio become a real boy.

As Laynie walks away from Cassie and her “painting on the air”, Cassie calls out, “Good-bye. Don’t let the Blue Fairy get ‘cha!”

Laynie turns around and sees what Cassie has written “on the air”, which is
NEVЯLAND

And that’s how the title with it’s Я came about.

The title also reveals a major theme about growing up in a world without adult supervision, much as the children in Peter Pan’s NEVERLAND:

• What kind of “world” would several thousand Children build if they were left to fend and defend for themselves?

Do you have a question about NEVЯLAND or writing in general? Send me your question, and I’ll do my best to get back to you ASAP.

Thanks for your support and encouragement. Although writing is a solitary event, putting a novel together is a collaborative effort–and I’m getting all sorts of great advice and encouragement from friends, new and old, as well as fellow writers.

See you on the bookshelves,

Larry Mike Garmon

A Rose by Any Other Name Still Gets the Blame for the Thorns

"The Naming of Cats" is an excellent poem by T.S. Eliot. If you haven't read it, you must be culturally depraved indeed.

Names are more important to an author than a parent. I know that sounds odd, but it's true.

As an author, I fret over a name for a character.

My own children's names came quite easily.

As a story begins to tell itself to me, a character often tells me his/her name right away.

Sometimes, though, I've got to use a descriptive name as the fabulists of old did because the character is either too shy to tell me his/her name or is being a bit of a prankster and making me guess his/her name or wait until I'm well into the story to tell me his/her name.

As a teacher, I have nearly 3,000 names of former students from which to choose. Because my YA characters are amalgams of my students, a character name pops to mind as I remember a former student who is much like the character in the story, and so the name sticks.

In NEVЯLAND, the protagonist's name has changed twice.

First, I thought she said her name was Rianne Pfaltzgraft. I had a seventh grade student many, many years ago named Rianne Pfaltzgraft, and I've always wanted to use that name in a tale.

As I began to outline and then write, the girl aged from 12 to 13 and she told me "Rianne Pfalzgraft" wasn't her name at all. She was just using that until I begin to listen.

To tell you the truth, I still wasn't listening well enough, and I didn't catch the second incarnation of the character's name and I don't remember it now.

Finally, she shouted the name out to me: Laynie.

I have a student graduating this year named Laynie, and as the character developed, I realized how much much the protagonist of NEVЯLAND and Laynie were twins--not so much in appearance but in attitude and temperment.

Interesting, Laynie (the character, not the real student) still looks an awful lot like Rianne, which is probably why I was confused as to her name in the beginning.

Once I had Laynie's name, her friends' names came next and came quickly: Lauryn, Ravyn, Cynthea, and Kymber. These are actual names of students I know.

There's a clique nickname in that group of "Y" girls.

Until Lauryn told me her name, I had to call her Snobby in the outline. At 13, she already is a multi-beauty pageant winner and is quite vain and, well, snobby. Her brother is referred to as Snobby's Brother, or SB for short.

The eighth grade boy Laynie is interested in is just called Jock (he plays football and runs track) while the geek who is interested in Laynie is called Nerd Boy because he is, well, a geek and a nerd.

I know both of these boys will eventually reveal to me their names, hopefully by the time I submit the manuscript in August!


For name inspiration, I also like to scan baby name lists on the Internet.

However, the best is the SSN most popular names over the past one hundred years. Here's the LINK.

Character names are important. It's hard to image the protagonist of Catcher in the Rye being named Mike Smith instead of Holden Caufield.

And imagine the lost symbolism in Death of a Salesman if Willie Loman's name was Sam Steward.

See you the bookshelves.

Larry Mike Garmon

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

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.