Not Great News - Off to UK in AM

I will be offline for a few days. Major problems with dad and Altzheimer's in UK. Doing a mercy dash back for 3 days in the morning.

I Nearly Made My Beta Reader Cry: Yipee!

I received back three chapters from my beta reader. I was so thrilled when she told me, that one of them had nearly made her cry

Am I cruel for punching the air with joy?

No!

The chapter in question was a sad one, I had achieved my goal, my reader had felt the emotion I had tried to get across.
Editing is going well and my new opening has completed written beside it. Yes, I have moved on from Chapter 1 and have no urges to go back and change a thing. I spend a weekend studying and brushing up grammar. This is something I had intended to do sometime before the book idea reared its head.
I then spent Monday working through many, oh so many errors.

Satisfaction = Glynis at the moment.

I read so much about removing words such as: Was, the, as. Endings ing and ly. Then I read books, and guess what, they have all the things I have mentioned, dotted throughout.

My decision is that I will be guided, learn and put into practice that I believe to be fact. I will take my lessons from a few published authors, and editors I have met through blogging. They are doing it, they must know.

Some of the advice I came across on the Internet was written back in 2004. I had written notes for about half and hour, when I came across the date. Time wasted. Never mind, I calmed down, found what I was looking for and moved forward.

I am also enjoying Fire In Fiction by Donald Maass.

What are you up to? Where do you draw your advice from?

Rambling Responsibility: Banning Books

This linked article is an interesting one (the comments are interesting too). It is about a parent and author having an ongoing issue about banning books. The parent wants the school his child attends to ban the author's book. Read the letter from the parent and the response from the author.

I do not usually write posts like this, but here goes. This is my humble opinion, yours might / will be different. That is what makes us human.

We have a responsibility to educate the youngsters of this world. Whether it be to smile at them and say thank you when they shop in our stores. Whether it be to ensure the Government in office is the one that is going to care for their future. And we must read and write words. Words are important. They feed the mind, they form the future of our world.

The word HATE is an issue with the parent in the article I found. It is a word that is used flippantly around the world. It has two faces, the innocent and the evil one. I hate Mondays, I hate enough to kill...see the two faces?

When we write, we write for ourselves, then we write for our audience. We do not consider our book will offend, upset or disturb the mind of another - unless it is our intention to do so. The act of writing a book, getting it published and presenting it to the world today, is the reading material of the future generation.

Books I read as a child are now banned. Why? I was not affected by them. BUT- OTHERS WERE. Do they have a right though, to prevent the present day readers from making up their own minds?

See, we all have different views, different styles of absorbing material. The one thing I do say is that we should be allowed to find out for ourselves.

My three children were fed books for breakfast. They all had different likes and dislikes. Two are girls, so they enjoyed different things to their brother. He HATED theirs and they in turn HATED his. I controlled their reading material to a certain level, then decisions had to be made.

Our neighbour was a librarian, she pointed out to me that D1 was advanced for her reading age. The material on the shelves she was allowed to use on her junior ticket, was not stimulating enough for her. We agreed that she would select suitable books for D1 and have them at the desk for pick up. After the second week, D1 approached me. She was upset. I had taken away a pleasure for her at the library. Her right to choose a book, to lift it off the shelf, to hold it and read the blurb.

I was in a quandry; what was I  to do? I discussed it with DH, he does not read books, but understands their importance in the life of another.

She was 10 years old, very intelligent and a stable character. We made a decision and told my librarian friend, D1 could choose her own reading material from the YA section if they would agree a ticket for her.
I have no regrets, D2 was not interested as she HATED kissing bits in the books when she sneeked a peek.

All became highly educated adults( D1 became head girl). I know they will feed their children (when they have them), the same book food. They will let them taste and decide. I am certain they will be annoyed to see books they read, being banned because another disapproved of them.

The reader who demands banning books, cannot differentiate the word HATE from the word HATE. That is the educational part, teaching the meaning of the word. Where the word has two faces, show them the correct word in the correct environment. Not ban them from finding that out for themselves. That is not education, that is closing a mind.

Rant over.

BBC National Short Story Award 2010

The BBC National Short Story Award 2010 is now open for entries.

Now in its fifth year, the BBC National Short Story Award is once again open for submissions from published writers over the age of 18.
With £15,000 for the winning story, and £3000 for the runner-up, not to mention the broadcast of all five short-listed stories on Radio 4, the award is one of the most prestigious for short fiction and an established part of the literary calendar. READ MORE HERE

GreyHaus Agency Opens For Submissions In June

Scott Eagan has announce that Greyhaus Agency is open for Romance submissions on 1st June.

Taken from his blog:

June 1 is CATEGORY ROMANCE month! I am looking for those writers that want to start off and prefereably hang out for a while with the ladies of Harlequin and Silhouette. Carina Press is not on that list for me. If you are wanting to write for that line, please go directly to them.

If you are submitting category romances, please be sure that you know how your story truly fits that line. If I want more, please be prepared to submit the following:

1. The full manuscript ready to go (in other words, if the story is not finished, don't submit!)
2. 3-5 additional story ideas that also show fitting in that genre.

Stories do not need to be linked. They just need to fit the line.

WOMEN'S FICTION is in high demand...READ MORE 

I Lied...Well Are You Surprised? A Valuable Comment by KarenG ...Blame Her!

I could not leave the last post as it was. KarenG gave me some advice and me being me, had to try it out. Yes, I got my opening out again, and played with it. So this is her fault, I had no intention of sharing the opening with you again. You must be getting bored. Anne Spollen said she liked how I was sharing my revision with you. Believe me, it is a selfish past-time. I learn from you!

I read your comments, get your vibes and feedback. This blog is my writing group, I do not have one here, so I use my blogging friends. Wow, what a confession...I am using you guys. You are so supportive, and constructive critique comments are always welcome.

So what did Karen say?

The story sounds interesting! One thing to watch however is how your choice of language helps create tone. Using words like "silly" "danced" "flicker" "ambiance" give a lighter tone than I think this opening calls for.

Kitty shivered from the chill of the night air, and as she did so, she lost her footing. She reached out to steady herself against the wall and giggled.


If anyone had seen me then they would have thought I had helped myself to the ale at Ma Parker's.

   Rumours of a murdered woman had been confirmed by the local constabulary as fact. It was too close to home be ignored, and Kitty knew she had been silly to take the shortcut. She hurried along the alleyway, the clip of her heels echoed as she walked. Dark shadows danced around her. She would have preferred a live companion to escort her, not those who made her nervous. Every movement that flitted across the brickwork, made her glance over her shoulder, nervous adrenalin kept her moving forward.


   The flicker of the gas lamps, added nothing to the ambiance of the route she had chosen. If told she was foolish and irresponsible, at that moment, she would have to agree. She was late home and Arthur would be annoyed, the alley was the quickest way across town. He hated it when she was late for reading lessons. He would sulk in only the way Arthur knew how. It irritated Kitty to think she would have to sit and watch him scowl, tonight of all nights. She was not in the mood to passify him.

Do you know? She is right. I read it out loud, and it needed tweeking big time.
This is how it stands at the moment. I am sure it is not the last time it will be edited, but I can only hope.

Kitty shivered from the chill of the night air, and as she did so, she lost her footing. She reached out to steady herself against the wall and giggled.

If anyone had seen me then they would have thought I had helped myself to the ale at Ma Parker's.

  It was a nervous giggle, the further down the passage way she moved, the more nervous she became. Rumours of a murdered woman had been confirmed by the local constabulary as fact. It was too close to home be ignored, and Kitty knew she had made the wrong decision to take the shortcut. She hurried along the alleyway, the clip of her heels echoed as she walked. Dark shadows moved around her, they were everywhere. She would have preferred a live companion to escort her, not those who added to her fear. Every movement that flitted across the brickwork, made her glance over her shoulder. Nervous adrenalin kept her moving forward, it was too late to turn back.

   The poor haze of light from of the gas lamps, added nothing to the environment. The mustard yellow, against the algae green walls, added a dark and unfriendly shade to the route she had chosen. If told she was foolish and irresponsible, at that moment, she would have to agree. She was late home and Arthur would be annoyed, the alley was the quickest way across town. He hated it when she was late for reading lessons. He would sulk in only the way Arthur knew how. It irritated Kitty to think she would have to sit and watch him scowl, tonight of all nights. She was not in the mood to passify him.
What say you? Did I make the right changes? Has it improved the image I am trying to portray as an opening?


Personally, I do think this is it...or is it?

Jiggled and Filed

Do you ever feel you are plodding in the wrong direction? I am sure you have done in the past. When I first started my novel, I felt that way at times. I recorded it in previous posts. Today, I felt I was still plodding, but making progress. I might actually be heading in the right direction, my goal.

I played around with the opening of Ripper, My Love, again. I am going with the advice of Emily Bryan with the opening lines. A few other lines have been jiggled and chapter one has been filed away. Chapter two and three are cowering in the corner. I will attack them again this week.

New Opening:

   Kitty shivered from the chill of the night air, and as she did so, she lost her footing. She reached out to steady herself against the wall and giggled.

If anyone had seen me then they would have thought I had helped myself to the ale at Ma Parker's.


   Rumours of a murdered woman had been confirmed by the local constabulary as fact. It was too close to home be ignored, and Kitty knew she had been silly to take the shortcut. She hurried along the alleyway, the clip of her heels echoed as she walked. Dark shadows danced around her. She would have preferred a live companion to escort her, not those who made her nervous. Every movement that flitted across the brickwork, made her glance over her shoulder, nervous adrenalin kept her moving forward.


   The flicker of the gas lamps, added nothing to the ambiance of the route she had chosen. If told she was foolish and irresponsible, at that moment, she would have to agree. She was late home and Arthur would be annoyed, the alley was the quickest way across town. He hated it when she was late for reading lessons. He would sulk in only the way Arthur knew how. It irritated Kitty to think she would have to sit and watch him scowl, tonight of all nights. She was not in the mood to passify him.

New Opening: Edit Session Outcome: What Do You Think?

I have been busy rewriting Ripper My Love. Edits have given me mixed emotions.

• Do I carry on? 
• Can I do this? 
• Yeah! That reads okay.
• Oh, I am pleased with this
• Woah, what made me write that?

I am sure you can all relate to the list.
I would like to see what you think of part of the new opening chapter. I think it sets the scene much better than before my Red Pencil session with Emily Bryan.

Please leave comment and constructive critique should you so wish. All help is gratefully received.

Before Emily's Red Pencil treatment:

He stood back in the shadows and watched as the young redhead tripped, then reached out to steady herself against the wall. She didn't look as if she had been under the influence of alcohol, as many of the women in the area were. The watcher decided to stay within the blackness of the shadows, this was not the girl for him tonight.

Kitty lifted her skirts as she stepped gingerly through the dirty alley way, the gas lamp flickered and cast shadows about her. Never one for being nervous of her surroundings, Kitty felt a new sensation, a feeling of being watched or followed. No noises had made her skin crawl, just a feeling deep inside. She walked a little quicker and the clip of her heels echoed around the dimly lit, narrow lane.
Her father would skin her alive if he knew she had taken this way home. Before the new street lamps had been put in place, the city of London was in darkness and she would never have walked home this way. She mentally chided herself ,only a few weeks previous, a woman had been murdered in the area and they hadn't caught the murderer yet. Some of her neighbours with relatives near the murder scene, had been told the woman had been hacked to death, but her friend, Billy Irish said she had been cut up by a professional.

Billy never said any more than that, just 'cut up by a professional'. Kitty often wondered what sort of person would be considered professional in Billy's eyes; maybe he meant a doctor. One of the surgeon types who cut off her mother's leg when the ulcers ate deeper into her flesh. If the woman had been hacked to death it would probably have been by a gang member from the riverside.

'Cut up by a professional', the words made Kitty shudder, it was a horrible thought that the murdered woman's life ended in a neat and tidy killing. Carried out just to satisfy another's need or fantasy. Maybe she had fallen behind with the rent and the landlord arranged her demise.
Kitty allowed her mind to continue along the morbid path of murder, her blood ran cold at the thought and she regretted walking through the short cut. The next time she returned from visiting her friends she would walk down Whitechapel Road. It was probably much safer, as there were more people walking along the street. She could hear the noise from the crowds turning out of the public houses and theatres in the distance, Kitty wished she was amongst them at that present time.
She shivered from the chill of the night air, and as she did so, she lost her footing, she reached out to the wall to steady herself. If anyone had seen me then, she giggled inwardly, they would think I'd been helping myself to the ale at Mrs Parker's.

As she walked on she was relieved to see the end

Emily's guidance rewrite:

Kitty shivered from the chill of the night air, and as she did so, she lost her footing. She reached out to the wall to steady herself. If anyone had seen me then, she giggled inwardly, they would think I'd been helping myself to the ale at Ma Parker's.
She lifted her skirts as she stepped gingerly through the dirty alley way.

The gas lamp flickered and cast shadows about her. Never one for being nervous of her surroundings, Kitty experienced a new sensation, a feeling of being watched or followed. No noises had made her skin crawl, just a nag deep inside to stay alert.
She walked a little quicker, the clip of her heels echoed around the dimly lit, narrow lane. She was late for her reading lesson with Arthur, and he was not one for being kept waiting. It always set him off into a sulky mood. His moods irritated her, and she did not want her day to end trying to passify him.

The alleyway led out onto a small narrow yard. The yard was empty, it looked different to how Kitty usually saw it. There were no shadows that danced, no welcome glow, no matter how dim. It was much darker than where she had just walked from. She squinted her eyes and could just make out the exit. It was a distant grey area ahead. The black represented solid buildings and the grey, is where a faint trickle of light fell from the main road. Black shapes lined the backs of the buildings, she knew them to be barrels stacked up on top of one another. They didn't look like it tonight. When she walked through the yard in daytime, they were weathered tan in colour, their evening shade was not so pleasant. A sudden movement in one corner made her heart thump. She heaved a sigh of relief when she saw it was only a rat going about its business. It was clear that it had disturbed some rotten food behind one of the barrels. Within seconds, the scuttle of several rats added to the eery atmosphere. The hairs on Kitty's arm tingled and her stomach knotted with fear. It had not occurred to her that the tanner would not light his yard at night.
It was with relief Kitty knew because of where she was, the main road was not much further and she kept up her quickend pace. Why did her legs feel like rocks, when she needed them to float like feathers? Her father would skin her alive if he knew she had taken this way home.

Before the new street lamps had been put in place, the city of London was in darkness. In those days she would never have walked home this way in the evening. She mentally chided herself. Only a few weeks previous, a woman had been murdered in the area.

The final edit, edit number six: (optimism at its best, LOL).

    Kitty hurried along the alleyway, the clip of her heels echoed as she walked. Dark shadows danced around her. She would have preferred a live companion to escort her, not those who made her nervous. Every movement that flitted across the brickwork, made her glance over her shoulder, nervous adrenalin kept her moving forward.

She shivered from the chill of the night air, and as she did so, she lost her footing. She reached out to steady herself against the wall and giggled.

If anyone had seen me then they would have thought I had helped myself to the ale at Ma Parker's.

   The flicker of the gas lamps, added nothing to the ambiance of the route she had chosen. If told she was foolish and irresponsible, at that moment, she would have to agree. The rumours of a murdered woman had been confirmed by the local constabulary. It was too close to home be ignored, and Kitty knew she had been silly to take the shortcut. She was late home and Arthur would be annoyed, the alley was the quickest way across town. He hated it when she was late for reading lessons. He would sulk in only the way Arthur knew how. It irritated Kitty to think she would have to sit and watch him scowl, tonight of all nights. She was not in the mood to passify him.

It had been five years since she lost her mother, and the visit to her grave tonight, had triggered memories and tears. She had spent longer at the cemetery than she had anticipated.

   A noise made Kitty's skin crawl. The hairs on her arm tingled as she experienced a new sensation; a feeling of being watched or followed. A nag deep inside told her to stay alert.

   The alleyway led out onto a small narrow yard. The yard was empty, it looked different to how Kitty usually saw it. The sudden lack of lamplight was unexpected, and it was much darker than where she had just walked from. She squinted her eyes and could just make out the exit. It was a distant grey area ahead. The black represented solid buildings and the grey, was where a faint trickle of light fell from the main road. It was not a welcome glow, just an indication of the yard exit. Black shapes lined the backs of the buildings, she knew them to be barrels stacked up on top of one another. They didn't look like it tonight. When she walked through the yard in daytime, they were weathered tan in colour, their evening shade was not so pleasant. Another noise and sudden movement in one corner made her heart thump. She heaved a sigh of relief, it was only a rat going about its business. It had disturbed some rotten food behind one of the barrels, Kitty could smell the decay. Within seconds, the scuttle of several rats added to the eery atmosphere. Kitty's stomach knotted with fear. It had not occurred to her that the tanner would not light his yard at night.

What fool I am, stupid, stupid fool.

  It was with relief Kitty knew where she was, thanks to the outline of the left hand building. The main road was not much further and she kept up her quickened pace.

Why do my legs feel like rocks, when I need them to float like feathers? Father would skin me alive if he knew I had taken this way home.

   Before the new street lamps had been put in place, the city of London had always been in darkness. In those days she would never have walked home this way in the evening. Had she known the yard was not lit, she might have decided against the shortcut. The killer of the murdered woman had still to be found. Speculation as to who had done it, made for daily conversation. Some of her neighbours with relatives near the murder scene, had been told the woman had been hacked to death.

Blog Awards: Charmaine Clancy

Charmaine Clancy over at Wagging Tales has awarded my blog with a selection of awards. Yes, more than one...three!

Wagging Tales is a great blog to visit, Charmaine is supportive of all bloggers. She encourages the young blog writers, and writes for YA and Children.

I am going to share the awards out and the task for receiving is to follow Charmaine, (I just made that up, so you can choose someone of your own). Tell her I sent you, I think it is great when someone tells me, so and so sent me and I now follow your blog.

We're like Soulmates, goes to my mentor Louie Jerome. We met over the Internet in a writing website group. Our ideas and humour are alike, so I feel this is the award for her. She has been a bit off colour lately, so I hope it cheers her up.

Blogger Buddy Award goes out to you ALL! You are amazing Blogging Buddies and I thank you for your support and encouragement. There have been times when I felt that, poetry and short stories are all I can manage to produce. You showed me, I can write this novel with the support of writing friends. Even if I never have it published, I would have written it, thanks to you.

 

You are my Sunshine award for supportive comments again goes to my favourite people... The Important Ones. I appreciate all of your comments and if you want to take the award, do so with my blessing.

Negative Writing List

 I am a great believer in turning a negative into a positive. This is my NEGATIVE writing list. The word negative is a positive in my dictionary. It is now on my pinboard and is my 'get it done' motivator.

Never give up

Enter with a positive mind

Get Organised

Add courage

Talk less, write more

Increase word lists

Victory can be had

Endings will be written

What are the words that keep you focused on your writing?

Living On Hope

H O P E

As writers we live on hope. The word sits in the back of our minds daily. It is a four letter word and this is how I use it.

• I hope this word is spelt correctly
• I hope I have not use too many ly and ing words
• I hope this chapter gets finished soon
• I hope this character is strong enough
• I hope my vocabulary is strong enough
• I hope I can complete this dang thing
• I hope it is time to walk the dogs
• I hope it rains tomorrow, I can get a lot of writing done
• I hope it stops raining, I can get to the vineyard to write something 
• I hope this editing lark is worth it
• I hope I get published one day
• I hope the power stays on
• I hope my brain can cope with the extra workload
• I hope my blogging friends are OK
• I hope this WIP gets finished this year
• I hope I show and not tell

I hope you are all happy with where you are in your writing life at the moment.

How do you use your four letter word - Hope?

Alliterative Allomorph: Contest...Fabulous Prizes

Jessica over at Alliterative Allomorph is hosting a contest. The three prizes are amazing. For example the first prize is:

First place:
Free CRITIQUE and EDIT of your FIRST CHAPTER. Plus 20% off a full manuscript edit (the 20% off offer will last for a month from date of win), by the amazingly talented Susan Lakin. She is a wonderful writing mentor, professional editor, and published author.
The other two are just as fabulous, so go and enter. You will not be disappointed with her blog, so you are a winner anyways you look at it.

Scott Eagan: Working With Editors

I follow Babbles from Scott Eagan. If you have never seen his blog, I recommend you go and read some of his posts.

Scott is is the literary agent for Greyhaus Literary Agency, representing romance and women's fiction. He gives information about the writing world, in a easy to read, almost casual manner.


The post I read today was interesting. He explains how to work with an editor. Check it out HERE.

Blog Award

Wendy aka Quillfeather gave my blog an award. Thank you Wendy.
Her blog is informative and fun...W.M. Morell's Musings From Down Under.

I am busy with my rewrite, I will catch up with you all soon.