Indelible Memory

Rapt in words,
Yet the dreadful blast
Of one world’s ending
Smashing midnight quiet,
Tore my mind away.
Icy voice foretelling the worst,
Swiftly thrust aside, denied.

Even sirens in the night,
Unexpected snarling saws
Slicing through sleep,
In daylight a tree
Torn free, toppled to earth.
All reminders of the night’s fright,
None enough to compel belief.

Eleven simple words, so few
To bear the weight of fateful news.
Innocence,
Hope,
Friendship.
Gone.
All gone, in a single instant.

There was a crash. The driver died. It was Michael ------.

Once read, such words cannot be unsaid.
Stories, rumours, fly, settle on my soul,
Smother with drifts of numbness.
In my mind I see
The shattered tree, tangled dreams,
Puzzled eyes staring holes in pale face,
Lying on the hard ground. Alone.

Stark light of tragedy
Illuminates dire decision
But reveals no choice,
Still shadows of guilt fill the picture.
One fact remains; you needed to talk.
I walked away and left you alone.
Was my hand steering your life that night?

Years drowned in infinite tears,
Life forever altered in eleven words.
Every year, the indelible memory
Is still clear.
The awful sound.
Sudden fear.
Words impossibly true.

There was a crash. The driver died. It was Michael ------.

A Would-Be Writer's Dream

A short while ago, I had an incredibly valuable experience. I was chosen to act as beta-tester for Holly Lisle's new e-book, How To Write Page-Turning Scenes. As I've noted here before, I am an affiliate of Holly's online shop, but I'd be excited about this book even if I wasn't.

What makes it so special? First of all, like most writers, I've bought and read a lot of writing books. Few of them did much to help me improve my writing, but I kept searching. Holly Lisle is an author who has been writing, and selling her work to publishers, for some time. She has clearly spent a lot of time thinking about, and analysing, the processes she uses.

She does not lay out a set of rules for you to follow. She teaches you about a set of tools that might help you. It is a key difference. In my own case, reading How To Write Page-Turning Scenes did not reveal any secrets that were a surprise to me. So why am I so excited?

Simply put, I understand all the things I've learned to do as a writer much better, so I can settle down to writing more effectively. I've spent years writing, working on drafts, getting stuck on novels, everything every writer does. I've been at it long enough that in my case reading How To Write Page-Turning Scenes didn't add any new tools to my toolbox, but it did clean up, adjust, and sharpen every tool I already had in there.

If you're already happy with how quickly and well you write, if you've got a few novels under your belt and don't feel the need for any improvement, then you won't want this book - although I suspect even then it just might make you a bit better at writing. If you have novels you're stuck on, you need this book. One reading, and I could see ways to make progress on novels I've been stuck on for over a dozen years. If you only want to write short fiction, or non-fiction, this book may not help you, although understanding what it takes to make a novel work might just aid you even in those other areas.

What if you're just starting out, and don't even have enough written to be stuck halfway through a novel yet? Well then, you have even more to gain. This book has done an incredible amount for me, and it accomplished that in a weekend. You may need months to work through it and take in all it has to offer, but in those months, you'll make as much progress as I did in ten years or more of writing.

One key secret to writing well is to keep practicing. I wish I had this book ten or fifteen years ago. I would have spent more time learning all it had to offer, but then I would have been much further ahead, and I'd have that much more time in my life to practice what I learned. I know writers don't have a lot of money, but this book is more than worth it.

If reading it once isn't enough for you, go back and read it again. Do the exercises. Learn all that you can, and enjoy the benefits. I suspect some of you are remembering that I'm an affiliate, and wondering if I'm getting this carried away just because I get a commission if you buy a copy.

First of all, Holly Lisle made a deliberate decision to keep the price down, and sell a course easily worth more than a hundred dollars for much less. She offers fair commissions, and I'm not complaining about that, but each sale doesn't exactly make me an amount of money I'm going to get carried away over.

I may also be self-conscious about my work sometimes, as most writers are, but I'm also proud enough of what I've learned I'm not suddenly going to gush over how much better a writer I am now (thus making myself seem so much less of a writer before) unless I believe that to be true.

Finally, whatever your opinion when you read the book, I've given you my honest opinion and I can hold my head up. If I spouted a lot of advertising copy just to sell something to you, I'd be too humiliated to ever face anyone again, which would defeat the whole purpose of trying to sell things online.

Tragedy In China

(Updated) As many of you know, a severe earthquake struck China not far from the city of Chengdu the other day. The latest official estimates are at least 14,000 people dead, and another 25,000 people buried in rubble. Many children are buried in the rubble of their school buildings, and vital moments are ticking away. Every moment they remain trapped in the rubble, their chance of survival decreases.

Since I first posted this, the Chinese government has estimated that the death toll may reach at least 50,000 and has issued a public appeal for rescue equipment. Since China's government seldom issues such appeals, as their own resources are extensive, this is an indication of how very tragic and desperate the situation is. Of course, the magnitude of the earthquake indicates it released roughly 600 megatons of energy, so widespread damage and devastation was sure to result.

If you visit the American Red Cross' informational page on this disaster, you will see that there are only a few things you can do. Do not donate supplies as an individual or as the result of a collection. If you own a company and are able to donate in bulk, please contact the Red Cross to see if they can use your help.

Even if you were able to drop everything and rush to China, the Red Cross asks that you not do this. In any case, by the time you could arrive, it would probably be too late for those who need help most. If you can spare a donation, read the Red Cross page and earmark it for post-earthquake disaster relief in China at the time you donate.

Even if you are broke, there is one thing you can do. Copy this post, with my full permission: I waive any and all Copyright rights in this post and place it forever in the public domain. Get the word out. Countless buildings are destroyed, survivors are huddling in the rain on piles of rubble, and every bit of help will make a real difference. Please, if you do nothing else, let the world know of this opportunity to help those in desperate need in Sichuan Province, China.

Please do whatever you can to help your fellow human beings, and at the very least pass this along in the blogosphere.

Velvet Verbosity 100 Word Challenge: Want

I recently became aware of an interesting blog, Velvet Verbosity, and an interesting challenge run there each week. The 100 word challenge involves writing exactly one hundred words on a one-word prompt. Those words can be poetry or prose, fiction or an essay. Nevertheless, writing exactly one hundred words, not one word more or less, is much more difficult than it seems.

This week's challenge is on the subject of "want". The top of the post features entries from the last challenge, on Eden, but if you scroll down to the bottom of the post, you'll find this week's word. I hope some of my readers will take up the challenge. My own entry follows, in bold text, with my comments on what I've written following it.

Want was all Michael had ever known, the one thing he understood. It was a mixture of cold and hunger seasoned with fear. Watching his brothers and sisters turn hairless and thin as sticks, seeing his mother’s dull eyes follow them as she slowly wasted away, every cell of his body crying out in want, he was the last of his family. He died alone, surrounded by their bodies. All the while, mocking the want that consumed him, food left Ireland’s shores to feed the demands of mercantilism. Experts agreed with the British politicians such inhumanity was the best decision.

Some of you may think this is melodramatic. However, such things happened in the late 1840s in Ireland, and happened all too often. Food really did leave the shores of Ireland while her people starved. Politicians really did think their theories were more important than human lives. Granted, this isn't a balanced account, but it is true history.

Half my ancestors came from Ireland. I could legally qualify for Irish citizenship, on two grounds. I don't know the exact experience of every family during the Great Famine, but as they were Protestant Irish, they were likely to do better than most. Notice that I don't say I agree with how Irish Catholics were treated; that was, however, how it was at the time. At least I do know my ancestors were poor enough they weren't busy making life difficult for Catholic families.

In addition, contrary to the myth that Protestant Irish families had no Catholic ancestors, I am aware that any family that lived in Ireland since before Cromwell, as at least one of my lines did, had Catholic ancestors and relatives, however much some of them hated to admit it. So those people who died were my people, some of them related to me, however distantly.

For the past several years, this episode of history has haunted me. I've written stories set during this time, and have several unfinished ones I'm working on. When I saw the word "want", this was the subject that naturally leaped out at me. Those who died in the Holocaust also suffered from want, but they suffered far more from other, more pointed evils. The Great Famine is, to my mind, the perfect showcase for want.

And, yes, this is how I tend to think of politicians and the experts who advise them. All too often, they are trying to do the wrong thing. Even when they try to do the right thing, they pass laws that appear as if they're doing something, but don't really tackle the tough problems head on. That's why I haven't been all fired up about the election; I suspect at least half my blogger friends could do a much better job than any of the candidates.

The World Is Poorer Tonight

Tonight, the world is a poorer place, since the death earlier today of Irena Sendler. In the midst of World War II, in Nazi occupied Poland, Irena Sendler dared to risk her own life to save the lives of roughly 2,500 Jewish children from the Warsaw ghetto. She was a social worker who stood up to the Nazi authorities and insisted on inspecting sanitary conditions in the ghetto.

On her visits there, she invented various ingenious ways of smuggling out babies, young children, and even teenagers. For those who do not know, in 1943, facing what they knew was certain death, the inhabitants of the Warsaw ghetto began to fight back. Untrained, with only limited, smuggled weaponry, they managed to tie up an impressive number of supposedly superior German soldiers armed with all the powerful tools of death the Nazi state could give them.

Finally, the Nazis admitted they couldn't stand up to the Jews face to face, even with superior weapons to back them up, and they pulled back. They shelled and bombed the ghetto into ruins, then surged in with overwhelming force to pump deadly gas into the sewers and cellar holes where survivors might be hiding.

In other words, of those who lived in the Warsaw ghetto, there were very few survivors. Of that number, 2,500 and their descendants owe their lives to Irena Sendler. Later, arrested by the Gestapo, she stood up to their torture rather than betray the names of those who helped her, and bore the scars of that torture on her body until the day she died.

Although she lived in obscurity for most of her life, and was embarrassed at the attention she finally received in her old age when her story was remembered, this was a woman we could all learn from, a woman worthy of admiration. The world is always in desperate need of more people like her. Anyone who believes in goodness and decency should mourn her loss tonight.

As we mourn, I think she would approve of this advice: learn from her life, from her love, from her courage. Stand up to help the weak, rescue the endangered, and protect the persecuted. Do what you can to make the world a better place. Look up to the true heroes: they aren't the richest men among us, or the most beautiful women. They aren't business leaders or celebrities. They are quiet heroes, who do what they can and expect no reward. Irena Sendler, may you rest in peace.

Artists, Photographers, and Writers, Wake Up!

I had planned to post several stories here tonight. That's right, several. I'm sorry to say that instead I am posting a warning about new idiocy contemplated by the United States Congress, idiocy that may deter me from ever posting a story again. Very quietly, something called the "Orphan Works Act" has been prepared to modify the Copyright laws.

Note that even if you live outside the United States, this would make it easier for a US citizen or corporation to pirate your work. It is also intended, in the arrogant plans of the US Copyright Office, to serve as a "model" for other countries dealing with the same problems.

I hate to tell my faithful readers this, but if it passes, I will be taking down many of the posts on this blog. I may take them down in anticipation of its passing. I hate to punish you, my honest readers, but like many other creative people who are already aware of this, I do not feel with such a law hanging over my head it is safe for me to share my work as I have done in the past.

Google that term, and read the details on this proposed law. If a work could truly be established as orphaned, something its creator had lost all interest in, I wouldn't mind the law. Owners of old photographs who want to get them retouched, but can't find the original photographer? There should be a way they can get their photos fixed up legally.

What concerns me is the vague legal language corporate interests have managed to get inserted. I learned, a few years ago, that the real lawmaking isn't even done in Congress any more. Those idiots just rubberstamp ill advised invitations to disaster, then, regulations are drawn up to define what the laws 'mean' by their vague language. That is when the real damage happens.

In this case, major corporations that would just love to steal intellectual property such as artwork, photographs, and writing at low cost, or get their hands on works the creator won't sell to them at any price, now have a great loophole. They only have to make "reasonable" efforts to find the copyright owner. So long as they follow "best practices" whose definition they can influence, they won't be breaking the law.

In addition, they have armies of high powered lawyers on constant retainer: with loopholes like this for their corporate sharks to rip through, no copyright holder who has to struggle to afford a lawyer at all will ever stand a chance against them. On one forum, an artist is calling for all artists, photographers, and writers, and the businesses that depend on them, to organise a day, 24 hours, of international protest against this proposed travesty of a law.

What would we do to protest? Take down all creative content, replacing it with a statement: "This is what the Internet will look like if corporate interests have their way, and the Orphan Works Act is passed in the US Congress. If you don't like it, call your congresscritter now." I hope we can pull something like that together. If you think that is a good idea, you have my permission to reprint this post, in its entirety, or write your own post and link to this one.

One final note: the Copyright Office endorses this invasion of our rights in a snarky statement that implies copyright is somehow a privilege. Let's go further, and seek our natural rights. If a carpenter works on a table, is it not his to dispose of as he wishes? We work on our creations - they are ours. It is no privilege to say we own them. Let's seek full legal status with every other person who works for themselves, and has the right to keep the product of their labours, or to part with it on terms they choose.

Thirteen Questions

JM of Fiction Scribe posted thirteen questions for writers yesterday. I began to reply in the comments, but the questions, and my answers, seemed just a little too interesting to bury in a comment. And my reply grew rather long, in any case. I hope she won't mind too much if I answer them here.

1: Do I write novels, short stories, poetry, fiction, non-fiction?

All of those... Whatever comes to mind, whatever I have a reason or an inspiration to write. And I write in various genres, although some more than others.

2: When did I start writing stories?

As soon as I understood it was possible; I began reading very young, and at first I thought books and stories were magical things that just existed. Once I understood you could create them yourself, I went wild. It was amazing to me that I could have such power, to accomplish such a wonder.

3: Did I start with fan fiction or my own creations?

My own creations. Fan fiction didn't really exist when I was young, or if it did, I was unaware of it. My first stories, of course, were heavily influenced by whatever I'd been reading lately, but I did make a deliberate effort to make them my own and not plagiarize anyone else's story.

4: What is the first story I ever wrote? (How long, what was it about...)

The first one I have any memory of now was written to enter a contest in fourth grade. It was a mystery, featuring a boy named John Balla as its hero, and it won the first prize in the (very small) contest. A little later, I entered a contest in the "Young Folks Pages" of the Boston Herald, and won that, too. That was about 100 words, science fiction, about monsters on the moon.

In junior high school, I started writing a novel, Journey of a Karmigan. It was very derivative, and while I didn't actually plagiarize Tolkien, anyone who read it could have told I'd read The Hobbit. Before it was finished, someone grabbed the only manuscript from me, tore it up, and flushed it down the toilet.

Shortly thereafter, I wrote Star Chill, a very melodramatic short story about a man who was the only survivor of a tragedy in space, and how he suffered from "star chill" due to his experience. That was the first one I ever tried professionally submitting, to Analog. They rejected it, of course, but failed to hire an assassin to punish me for exposing them to such an awful story, which is probably what I deserved.

5: Out of all the books I've read, who is my favourite character?

King Arthur stands out, and Gummidge the kitten (if I recall his name correctly), but to name a single favourite out of so many wonderful characters just is not possible. I could easily make this post twenty times as long discussing all the wonderful characters I've known.

6: Who is my favourite character from my own stories?

I will not play favourites with my characters; I love most of them (except the villains, and even then, I understand them too well to hate them). They are all part of me. As I work on various books and stories, certain characters fill more of my mind than others, but that changes with whatever I'm working on.

7: Am I seeking or will I actively seek a job in the writing & publishing industry, other than writing and hoping to be published?

I'd love to set up a small press some day... I struggled to do that for many years, before POD technology existed, using letterpresses and hand set type. The costs were just too high, and the process required too much time. And starting a magazine I could edit would be fun, too. In both cases, I'd seek to be my own boss, so I could make my own vision a reality. It will probably never happen, although stranger things have occurred.

8: What is my greatest "Achilles' heel" as far as grammar goes?

Long and winding sentences.

9: Am I published in any way, paid or not?

I have been published in unpaid markets, paid markets, including paid professional markets (not just contest prizes, in other words), and I've self published some of my work. None of it is well known, none of it is in print, and I haven't been published nearly as much as I'd like to have been.

Quite some time ago, I grew discouraged, both with my own ability, and with the apparent direction the publishing industry was taking, and turned all my efforts towards improving my writing, then self-publishing the results. I did improve with practice, but the expenses of self-publishing proved impossible to bear, and for a few years I tried to forget writing. I was miserable. It was one of the worst mistakes I've made in my life, which is saying a lot. Once I understood this, I gave in to the inevitable. I am a writer. I will go on writing until I die; I will seek publishers when I believe I have a chance of success, but whether publishing trends embrace me or reject me, I will not stop writing.

10: What are my dreams for my writing?

To learn to be as good a writer as I possibly can, to develop my skill and my talent as much as they can be developed, so I can do as good a job as possible of telling the stories inside me. I have so many stories, so many characters, so many worlds, all clamouring for attention inside me. I hope to leave behind as much of those stories as I can, as well told as I'm capable of, but I fear if I lived for a thousand years, I wouldn't be able to get the hundredth part of it all on paper.

I do hope to be able to move to making a full-time living as a writer, not because I have any illusions that will make me rich, but simply because, as long as I can even scrape by, that is the path which will allow me the most time to practice and develop my writing. I wish all writers could have the same opportunity.

11: If I could talk to any author, alive or dead, who would it be and why?

Anne Frank, so I could let her know her writing was not lost, nor was it in vain; that her words triumphed over her murderers in the end. And so I could tell her that I mourn the loss of her life and of her potential - in murdering her, the Nazis stole from the world an incredible talent.

I have noticed certain keywords draw would-be commenters. Take note; I am aware the cause of Anne Frank's death was technically typhus. However, she would not have been malnourished, weakened, exposed to typhus, or broken by the deaths of friends and family, if the Nazis had not, against her will, done those things to her. The fact her murder was slow and agonising makes it no less murder. I've replied to your comments in advance, to save you the trouble of making them, and to spare myself the necessity of being exposed to your filth.

12: What inspires me?

In the broadest sense, every facet of life inspires me; in a narrower sense, cats, nature, sunsets, trees, leaves, the ocean, ruined buildings, mountains, fog, wind, the moon, tall ships, fountain pens, the act of writing, the act of printing, swans, geese, raccoons, otters, King Arthur, Winston Churchill, Anne Frank... even when I list specifics, the list could go on and on.

13: Why do I write?

That question implies an alternative - in my case, there is none; I cannot bear not to write. Asking why I write is like asking anyone on the street why they breathe.

Brief Update

Well, as my regular readers from the past can see, the curse is still in effect. Whenever I name a specific date I will post, something happens. In this case, it was a few minor crises, several planned get-togethers that lasted far longer than planned, and a brief but nasty little 'bug'. And, oh, yes, did any of you note my flippant comment in the last post?

I'm not sure if something at the back of my mind was already warning me of this, or if it was the action of the "curse", but the story I was working on may, indeed, turn out to be a novella. If not, it will be awfully close... I still want to thank my readers, and show my appreciation - I hope to put up a few stories, as soon as I can. (Note the new caution. Finally, the Wandering Author learns from experience - do not give a date!)

First, however, as I have a good idea all worked out in my mind, I hope to enter DBA Lehane's contest before it ends (the deadline is the 30th). And I am looking into an interesting idea I may follow up on, if I decide I can keep up the pace. I'll let you know more about that, one way or the other, once I decide how I will be handling it. Yes, and I do remember I have a few awards / memes to catch up on; some date back to last fall, when life (or, more accurately, death) put all my activities and plans on hold for a while.

I hope I will have the sense, from now on, to only promise a post on a certain date if the post has already been written. Ideally, I'll have it all set up in Blogger to auto-post on that date (yes, this is possible for Blogger users, and has been for at least a little while). If I forget, I hope you'll forgive me.

The Mystery of the Missing Story

I promised to post a story sometime today, to show my appreciation to my readers on Blog Reader Appreciation Day. Yet this is not a story, and there is no new story below it. Where is the story I promised? Happily, the mystery is easily solved. I have over 2,500 words of the story written. It is turning out to be a bit longer, and a bit harder to wrap up, than I'd expected.

I choose to believe my readers would prefer, and would feel my appreciation of them was best expressed by, a story I didn't slap together just to meet the stroke of midnight. And some of you will no doubt go crazy if I post just the part I have done so far. So, I will be posting the story tomorrow, unless it turns into a novella :-D without warning. I am sorry for the delay, and hope you'll find the story, when it is up, was worth the wait.