Just Give Me A Great Story

I once had someone say to me, "Truth is stranger than fiction because it can be. But fiction has to make sense. It can be as fantastic as you care to make it, but it must have an inherent logic to it at all times."

My question to that is – logic to whom? What is logical to me is not logical to someone else and vice versa. What is plausibility? To whom must it be plausible? This whole issue with logic and plausibility, I believe, lies in the lap of the reader.

My best friend, Tina, is part of a large book club in Ohio. Like a litter of starved puppies, they devour books one after the other. Their opinions vary -- widely -- on the books they read. Each member takes a turn and chooses their "book of the month." But in the meantime, my Tina will read an average of three or four books in addition to the book-club pick. She's got more books in her library than Congress.

A voracious reader, Tina is any writer's best friend. She eats, sleeps, and breathes books. Has been helplessly addicted all her life. Would rather read than eat. She's been known to go without a shower for days and days while her nose is stuck in a book. I remember when she read the Outlander series, her speech turned Scottish for a while. If she loves the book, Tina will immerse herself in the story. She allows herself to be transported into the midst of the action. And she's not all about one genre. She'll read anything that appeals to her. She's my best critic, by far.

She should've been part of the industry, gone to New York, worked for a major house. She knows every major and mid-list writer. Tina is a great reference for me. But I have to laugh when I get the call after a bad book. Her comment usually goes like this. "... oh my God, Pam ... how did this book get published? It was awful! Just awful. I could barely get through it! And then there's your book, a page-turner, a book just waiting for a publisher!"

Well, of course, she loves me. She knows how hard I've worked to get Televenge into the light of day. Her advice and edits were critical on this book. But we don't always agree. Some of the books she's read and not liked, other readers absolutely love.

My whole point here, is that logic and plausibility and backstory and even, yes, the craft of writing itself (to a degree) ... is subjective. (I can hear the boo and hiss from the creative writing teachers now.) I agree, you need to know the rules before you break them. But I'm finding that most experts believe unless it's written a certain way, unless you follow their formula for story arc, character development, and conflict enhancement, then you can kiss your chances of publication good-bye. Unless a book grabs them by the balls in the first two pages, they (or their 22 year old assistant) fast-pitch it into the slush pile. How sad for them.

I believe many of the finest and best stories ever written, will go unread. All because writers are at the mercy of opinion. These unknown writers don't even get the chance to market their work, because some industry professional who has been in the business since God was a boy, believes they know best.

I say, just give me a great story. As much as I believe every writer should study the craft and write well, I want a story that moves, inspires, and makes me cry. Or laugh. Or cleverly holds my interest until the writer's skill sneaks up behind me and shocks me with a powerful punch to the gut. Break the rules and give me an unnamed lead character, as with Elizabeth Kostova's, The Historian.

Of course, not every book is good. Not every story can be published. But don't force your formula, your opinions, your "doesn't fit my list" on the rest of us. The Internet has been instrumental in bringing readers and writers together, bypassing major book publishers altogether. I believe the face of publishing will change in the future. The rules will change. Opinions will change.

Because in the end, all we really want is just a great story to read.

Blessings to you and yours.

Inspired By My Elders

Last evening, my friend Dena http://www.denaharris.com/ and I spoke to a lovely group of seniors at Well Spring Assisted Living Community in Greensboro. These folks wanted to hear our presentation on the topic of "Passing Down Your Family Stories." Many in the group filled shoe boxes with photos, notes, and letters, expressing interest in writing their memoir. A few were storytellers. Others, just came for the pure entertainment of it. One thing for sure, it was fun! I'd return in a heartbeat. Even to just sit and talk with these folks.

Dena and I both began to feel as though we could've listened to their stories for hours. Some were retired professors, teachers, homemakers. One man wanted to write his own obituary. They were interested in how to get started and I think we helped them with advice like--set aside ten minutes a day to just jot down notes and memories in a notebook. Keep your pen and paper handy because you never know when inspiration will strike. Develop a ritual. Find your own writing spot and train yourself to enter it at the same time every day. Make it a good habit. Use your five senses--allow them to dig into the cobwebbed corners of your memory. On and on ... we spoke for an hour, answered questions, laughed, and then ... we listened.

What we took home from this beautiful facility, was the warmth of these folks. They reached out and we reached back to embrace them, encourage them. In return, they removed a little bit of our apprehension of growing old. It's scary to many of us who lead full lives with so much left to do. But for me, I looked out over the room of beautifully lined faces, and realized these people were happy. Really happy. They're content. They've lived, loved, and learned how to accept the fact that old age can be a beautiful place to be. One woman told me they're all busy, every day. That's one of the reasons she came to hear Dena and me. To figure out how to squeeze more time out of her schedule in which to write!

This gorgeous facility gives these folks not only a sense of security, but of family, and purpose. How wonderful. Yes, it's truly more blessed to give than to receive, but in this case--I enjoyed receiving inspiration from these gracious senior citizens.

I suppose my point is that although we went to Well Spring to give of ourselves, we took with us even more than we gave. My heart is full this morning.

Don't you just love it when that happens?

Blessings to you and yours.

Mom's Day All Year Long

Every morning I get up and read my normal blogs, along with coffee in hand. And then I think ... I've got to blog more than once or twice a week. Though my once or twice a week is consistently that, I know I may attract more readers if I'm a daily blogger. It's often difficult, however, to find that much interesting stuff in my daily life/routines. Although my friend Dena, would disagree. Except Dena writes some great and funny stuff. Me? I tend to ramble on when blogging. http://blogsbydenaharris.squarespace.com/ Check it out.

Anyway, yesterday was Mommies Day. I wished Mike's mom a happy one, then my mom by way of telephone, my kids called ... all is well in the world. Just another Hallmark holiday. It's my opinion that every day should be Mom's Day. For every good thing a mother does during the course of her lifetime, think about it, who could ever repay her? We need to send mom a card or flowers or a good book just on a whim. In August. Or November. Who cares if it's not her birthday or Mother's Day? Do we really need a corporation like Hallmark or Walmart to tell us when to celebrate Mom? Or Dad, for that matter?

But we do it in May for those who forget. Actually, I plan to give my mother something very special in the near future, so all I sent was a card. She'll have to wait a couple months, and then we'll celebrate big time. My point is, you don't have to give your mom a thing on that May holiday. Maybe a phone call or a card, but presents are not the goal. Gifts from the heart come at the most surprising times. That makes the whole idea of "Mom" more special.

Love is free. You can give it to anybody at any time. We don't need Hallmark to do that.

Blessings to you and yours.

You Can Feel It

I arrived home from Ohio with great expectations. Contemplating the marriage between my son and his future bride, I feel a certainty. This one will defy the odds. You can just feel it.

Aaron Christian and Anne Marie. Or Annie, as she's called by those who know and love her. The couple's shower, given by Uncle Gordon and Aunt Elaine, was a total success. A beautiful day for Northern Ohio, the guys went golfing early in the morning, and later ... everyone gathered on the farm to celebrate the upcoming nuptials.

For two people who do not like to be in the spotlight, Annie and Aaron were certainly the center of attention last Sunday. But along with that, Auntie Elaine and her dear friend, Jane, put on a regal shower ... We feasted on top-notch food, wine, and exquisite cupcakes for dessert. Everyone introduced themselves and told their relationship to the soon-to-be bride and groom, and then the comfortably-seated 40+ folks in the room watched as this precious couple opened their gifts.

No longer in their twenties, this 30-something couple are in control of their direction. You can feel their devotion to each other. I think we all felt it.

Later, a gaggle of golfers lined up to hit golf balls across the pond, hoping to be the first to hit the dock. My friend, Tina, won that honor. When the air chilled, it was time for a bon-fire. Cigars for a few, cold beer, and side-breaking laughter rolled around the fire from each of us. Though most who lived a distance away left before dark, the rest stayed and shared memories, stories, and tales of yesteryear.

Uncle Gordon and Aunt Elaine have been surrogate parents to my children for many years. Aaron lives on their farm in the "extra" house. A large farmhouse behind the main house. Gordon raises Clydesdale horses on this gentleman's farm. Watching those magnificent beasts in the pasture at sunset brings a sigh of peace to your lips. Tranquil and inviting, this patch of land has been home to G&E and their two beautiful children for the past few decades. Their farm is the perfect spot for a shower, or a wedding, or a tractor ride.

It was a quick trip, but one of the best trips ever to Ohio. It was wonderful to see my sister and her two lovely girls, as well as meeting all of Annie's family. Michael, as usual, snapped tons of pictures. We enjoy ourselves with any trip to Grand Maples Farm. This was definitely another treasured memory. We now look forward to June and the storybook wedding. Between a conservative country boy who loves to hunt and a liberally dark-haired beauty, a doctor who said, "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you." No two people could be so different, yet so perfect together. You can see it, you can feel it.

Thank you, G&E, for all you've done. We all appreciate it more than you know. This shower rates as one of the best ever. A first-class event for a first-class couple.

Blessings to you and yours.

Smelling History

The High Point Literary League hosted Erik Larson this week. Author of The Devil in The White City and Thunderstruck, I found him entertaining. Especially because he put us in a time machine and transported us back to turn of the century Chicago. Can you imagine?

A writer of historical fiction, Mr. Larson evoked our senses ... especially that of smell. "If you opened this time machine," he said, "and stepped out into the Chicago of the past, the first thing your mind would register is that of horse." Yes, horse. He pointed out that during this Gilded Age in Chicago, there were over a million horses at any one time in downtown Chicago. Each horse excreted 30 gallons of urine a day. Allow your sense of smell to take over. Nasty.

Ha! It made me think of our country's history and how technology and our modes of travel have changed not only the landscape, but what we hear and smell.

Evidently, back then, every man smoked cigars. (Probably to cover their own smell or that of their horse.) But Mr. Larson was quick to point out those were the two most dominant smells of any city. Horses and cigars.

As a writer, we must not forget to titillate our readers with the sense of smell. There's no more powerful sense that can pick us up and transport us back in time.

Smelling Chicago of the past was fun. It made me think of how other smells bring back memories of my own past. Like opening a box of Pampers- (My early years as a new mom.) A freshly mowed lawn- (Summertime as a kid.) The inside of a freezer- (My grandma's basement.)

Smelling history. It's like stepping into your own time machine.

Blessings to you and yours.

What Day Is This?

This past weekend is a blur. Friday we headed to Kentucky and the KYOWA 180 Writing Conference at the Greenup County Resort, in KY of course. Accommodating, the resort and grounds were storybook-beautiful. Much of the surrounding vegetation bloomed and blossomed, sending pollen and fragrance into the air. The lodge nestled itself into a hillside and every room had a view of the lake. Quiet, serene, one night of ... crack! Spring thunderstorms! The electric went off Friday evening ... long enough to shrug and say, "Might as well go to bed." But it was so dark, and so quiet, I had a quite a time getting to sleep.

Saturday, all was well and the sun came out. I sold books, spoke for an hour in the morning to a room full of romance writers, then headed to a quick meeting in Ohio. All in all ... another hurried weekend that's going to roll into another trip to Ohio this coming weekend. A couple's shower for my son and his fiance. In the meantime, I have an agent who wrote and requested chapters of Televenge, a meeting on Thursday, and final stories to read for the West Virginia Writers Contest.

It's no wonder we wake up one morning and ask our self ... "what day is this? May? I thought it was March!"

Blessings to you and yours.

Odds And Ends

First, let me get this out of my system ... I should NEVER gloat over the fact that the sun shines more in NC than in other states! LESSON LEARNED. Never, since I've lived here all these seven years, have I seen such a string of sunless days! I HATE THIS WEATHER!! To quote my best friend in Ohio, "....it's weather that makes you want to slit your wrists!" Okay, that's over-reacting, but I'm really not used to weeks of solid gray skies anymore. This stinking low has hovered over us now, for what--a month at least. It's depressing, and there's not a damn thing anybody can do about it. My apologies to Ohio. The South is stuck in your normal weather pattern ... maybe just to remind me that I should never gloat about the sunny South again.

I'm rapidly putting final touches to a speech I'm delivering this Saturday at the Dogwood Writing Conference in Kentucky. My speech to writers of mostly the Romance genre, will focus on issues of writing yourself out of a dark spot. It will be video-taped and hopefully, with any luck, I'll put pieces of it on the web. I've taken the speech, Coming out of the Dark and into the Life of a Writer, and put a spin on it. A new twist for a writing audience.

Michael and I have a few new projects on the horizon, and some very good news about Southern Fried Women! So keep your eyes open for these future blogs: A Re-release for Southern Fried Women ... Home is Where the Heart Hopes to Be ... AND Fearless at Fifty. The New Trend - Corporations letting go of their older employees. How to survive as a baby-boomer who's too young to retire!

Ah, the ranting continues.

Blessings to you and yours.