The Historical Role of Writers and Authors in Society

 

 

 

 

 

I believe our global world is teetering on a precipice or an abyss. However we wish to view our global situation, because there are too many dictators that have now gained power. The supposed purpose of our American Democratic Republic was, and hopefully will be again someday, for religious freedom and economic prosperity. Democracy, however, is losing.

Therefore, in my opinion, writers can and should share their views.  The governmental policies are everyone’s business, because our lives, how we live our lives, are dependent upon on our written and verbal voices.  Writers have a voice, an audience, a vibrant and often collective voice.

Fiction, especially, is a vehicle to express societal needs and wants for a better life. Consider A Tale of Two Cities, To Kill a Mocking Bird, The Scarlet Letter, Jane Eyre, Oliver Twist, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Roots, and so many others.  All of these written works represent writers speaking out about the horrors of tyranny placed on people of poverty, of color, of sex, and of faith.

Furthermore, all of the above classic literature, speaks to the appalling human conditions forced onto society by tyranny, greed, hate groups, ignorance, and loathe. The cruelty of mankind is a poison without a cure…unless humankind speaks loudly, writes loudly about injustice, poverty, bullying, hate, fear, racism, greed, and tyranny.

For instance, religion is a set of beliefs based on faith, a policy of doctrine, and religion has changed lives, for better or worse, consider: The Malleus Maleficarum, The Salem Witch Trials, The Trail of Tears, The Holocaust, Roots, and so many other travesties and horrors, based on tyranny or tyrannical religious precepts, basically humans being inhuman. I say this, because some forms of religion do not wholly, truly represent the founding of beliefs that a prophet gave to people of a certain time in history.

All religions are faith and politically based beliefs—by speakers, writers, authors, and preachers. Our lives are based on faith. Faith is what we believe to be a given right: freedom to pray, to think, to express our beliefs, and nothing is more political than the faith of our choice.  It is our right to believe in a higher power or not to believe, and we all believe differently.

Our collective belief in a democratic republic is policy-based, and we came to believe in a democratic republic as written by authors, who expressed their views, their faith in the ability to tell us stories, stories that are based on democracy or tyranny. We, as writers and authors, are at another dangerous point in our humanity.

We should and can choose to write short stories, novels, and commentaries that support our democratic republic; if not, we will fail miserably to defend our right to write stories. Without this right, we may see our written work burned in the fire of a tyrannical and often insane dictator.

As it is today, so many great written works are on the banned books list and are not allowed in libraries. Who knows? Your religion could be next or any and all religious doctrine based in faith, could be banned and our writing banned as well.

Whether tyranny is religious or theoretical, what we believe collectively becomes the law of the land. The voices of our written work: our novels, our commentaries, our short stories, our speeches, all are critically important to our way of life, our democracy.

Our lives depend on the written word that will reflect our collective voice for freedom of thought, of choice, of faith in our union as Americans.  What we allow to endure, without our voices, will be our fall from grace.

 

Steve the Crossing Guard

Steve the Crossing Guard, a teacher-at-large, and his amazing gift to children.

A Teacher's Reflections

There are teachers, and there are remarkable teachers.  Steve the Crossing Guard is one of the remarkable teachers, and he doesn’t teach in a classroom. He teaches on the street at a school crossing.  The children at his crossing will often learn far more than they learn in the classroom.

I got an email from Steve the Crossing Guard at 6:39 AM.  It was titled,
“Boston Massacre 3/5/1770”.

The text simply said:

Yes, you bet we’ll discuss it, within the hour…

Have a great day!
Steve

WOW!

This is exactly what Steve the Crossing Guard does.  He is so excited for what’s to come, because he has planned questions and challenges for the students. The anticipation of knowing and then wanting to pass it on is the greatest feeling. Really.

At 8:01 PM that night, he emailed:

Jennie,

So much history tomorrow: Michelangelo’s bday; fall of the Alamo; Dred Scott…

View original post 437 more words

Twas The Night Before Christmas….

A reblog from last Christmas! I will be away for Christmas and these are my favorites to share! Merry Christmas to one and all!

This is the time of year where children’s books take center stage and all around us we see magical stories, Fairies, stardust, Reindeer prancing, Elf’s in fancy hats, jingles bells everywhere and snow falling. Yuletide Christmas Trees are brightly decorated with lights that sparkle, twinkle, and seem to light up the world with their glow.  While dear St. Nick travels afar, just to bring gifts to one and all.  It is a time when we can believe that there is more to the world than we can imagine and the gift of children helps us to believe in a world more wonderful than we know, and that anything is possible, if we just believe it is so. 

A Halloween Poem: The Witch of His Dreams!

THE WITCH OF HIS DREAMS

She comes to him at Midnight,

The Witch of his Dreams,

Her eyes a forest green,

Her hair, dark and long,

Her voice, a sweet magic,

Calling out his name,

He could not help but watch her,

Dance among the flowers,

Beneath a waxing moon,

She whirls and cast her spells,

Upon him,

A haunting chant she sings,

And soars into his soul,

On gossamer wings,

She whispers things he longs to hear,

Of secret longings in his ear,

She enchants him with delights,

Though she must fly into the night,

She tells him of her love,

And casts her spells upon him,

To love him evermore,

Though never shall she return,

For she was only ever,

The Witch of His Dreams.

Composed by K. D. Dowdall October 2017

A Review: French on English – A Guide to Writing Better Essays


A Review of French on English – A Guide to Writing Better Essays 

 by author Charles F. French

French on English – A Guide to Writing Better Essays,  is an essential tool for writing, that you will keep on your desk, as I do, for easy reference when writing a resume, a college essay or thesis, a commentary on your blog, or a fiction or non-fiction book.  This well-thought-out little book, reveals in simple and easy steps, ways to make almost any written work error free. An added plus is Dr. Charles F. French’s free online companion site for French on EnglishA Guide to Writing Better Essays.

Charles F. French, author of French on English – A Guide to Writing Better Essays, earned his PhD in English Literature from Lehigh University.  He has been teaching writing courses in composition for more than twenty-five years at Lehigh University, Bethlehem, PA, and at Muhlenberg College Wescoe School of Continuing Education, Allentown, PA.

Dr. French’s essential reference book on writing skills, French on English—A Guide to Writing Better Essays,  includes examples of often forgotten English grammar rules that we learned in high school. He also included in simple and easy steps, how to create that first draft of a college essay or that novel many of us are hoping to write. Another important feature, is learning to create perfect citations that when improperly written, will cause a great paper to be marked down, one that should have been an A+ paper in college.

Another key feature for me when I am writing a first draft of a novel is that moment that finds me in fear of developing Writer’s Block. Dr. French has brilliantly included, in his spectacular reference book, a section entitled, ‘Brainstorming Ideas’ using the technique of ‘Free Writing’ that breaks through the dreaded Writer’s Block.

I know that you will find, French of English—A Guide to Writing Better Essays, an essential writing tool, and you will want to keep it on your desk for easy access, as I do. It is truly a treasure trove for essential error free writing!  

 

Zodiac Sign for June 21-July 22

Zodiac Facts about the Water Sign Cancer 

Symbol:   Crab

Element:   Water

Polarity:   Negative

Quality:   Cardinal

Ruling Planet:   Moon

Ruling House:   Fourth

Spirit Color:   Violet

Lucky Gem:   Ruby, pearl

Flower:   Orchid and white rose

Top Love Matches:   Taurus & Pisces

Key Traits:   Intuitive, emotional, intelligent, passionate

The Motto:   “I feel, therefore I am.”

The Cancer Personality

Emotional, intuitive, and practically psychic; ruled by the moon and characterized by the crab, Cancer has so much going on in its watery depths. Cancers may seem prickly and standoffish at first meeting, once they make the decision to become friends with someone, that person has a friend for life.

Is love in your stars? Find out with a live psychic reading.

Most Cancers have been called psychic at some point, and with good reason—Cancer can often intuit relationships, ideas, and motivations before anyone has actually spoken. That can make for challenging interactions with this sign—Cancer hates small talk, especially when it contains white lies (like saying, “How nice to see you!” when it’s clear that both parties would rather avoid each other). That’s why social gatherings can be overwhelming for Cancers. They’d much rather spend time in small groups where everyone is on the same page.

In romance, Cancer is a giving and generous lover and expects the same in return. The Crab is above mind games and hates the thrill of the chase—if you love someone, why not say it now? It’s not uncommon for Cancer to fall into committed love after just a few days or weeks, and even though that decision is sudden, it can easily last a lifetime. Cancers tends to be happiest when they’re part of a pair, and the best relationship brings out their greatest traits. But even though a Cancer thrives in a duo, he or she also has an independent streak, and needs plenty of time to do things solo. This sign has an active internal life, and is often are happy living in the realm of imagination. Sometimes Cancers need help from one of the more grounded signs to make their dreams a reality.

Cancer loves creating and needs some type of creative outlet, whether it’s painting, writing, or even just reading. Cancer also loves connecting to a higher power, and may find comfort in religion or spiritual practices. And even though Crabs can be intense, they also have a funny side with a wry sense of humor, and they’re adept at observing and mimicking people around them.

Finally, Cancer is incredibly loyal, sometimes to a fault. Cancers will go to the ends of the earth and even against their own beliefs to help someone they love. Learning how to step up for what they believe in—even if it means turning down or against a friend—is a lifelong lesson for Cancer. As the emotional heart of the Zodiac, this sign teaches everyone else that, while there’s so much in life that we may not be able to see, we should still pay attention to the unseen because it does exist—and we do need it!

Cancers are amazing! Their name says it all:

C for caring

A for ambitious

N for nourishing

C for creative

E for emotionally intelligent

R for resilient

Cancer’s Greatest Gifts

With off-the-charts emotional intelligence, Cancer quickly cuts through the BS and noise to the heart of an issue. Crabs don’t need all the facts and figures to know the right course of action, and their ability to trust intuition without judgment can aid them well. This gift is one that other Zodiac signs can learn from and be inspired by.

Cancer’s Greatest Challenges

While Cancer easily and accurately reads situations when they’re presented, he or she may not share those opinions with others. Speaking up is key, because turning inward with emotions means that those emotions may erupt unexpectedly. Crabs also expect others to know what they’re thinking, which is another source of pent-up frustration. Learning to voice opinions, even if it leads to conflict, is a lifelong lesson for Cancer.

Cancer’s Secret Weapon

Emotions. While many Cancers probably get the message to “be less emotional,” the huge range and depths of Cancers’ emotions may in fact be their secret weapon. When this sign is happy, the world knows it; when they’re unhappy, the world will work to shift their situation. In general, a Cancer’s mercurial moods do a better job than a long speech, and by sharing their emotions with the world, Crabs help other signs tap into theirs as well.

The 5 Top Reasons to Love Being a Cancer

Practically psychic, Cancers can take the emotional temperature of almost every room they’re in, and can intuit whether a situation is good or bad before anyone says a word.

Passionate lovers, Cancers are adept at throwing both mind and body into over-the-top relationships. They absolutely adore letting go and totally connecting to their body in bed.

Ruled by the moon, Cancer is incredibly in tune with the earth’s rhythm, and finds solace and pleasure in nature. More than many signs, Cancers intuitively know that tuning into the natural rhythms of the earth, the moon, and the planets can help when they have a problem.

Incredibly loyal, once a Cancer chooses to become friends with someone, he or she will have that person’s back for life, and won’t let judgment get in the way of an amazing friendship.

Creative and resilient, Cancers can always find pleasure in their own company and their own mind, and they can make anything—even jury duty or a trip to the DMV—a fascinating story.

Get Your 2018 Horoscope! Find out what you need to know about this year. https://www.horoscope.com/zodiac-signs

Anwen and Aodhan, A Celtic Short Story by K. D. Dowdall

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(this is a previous post I did from 3 years ago)

The year is 500 A.D. in the wilds of Ireland where Druid kings rule and the Gods and Goddesses speak to the high priests in each tribe throughout the land. It is a time when lives depended on the spirits in Oak trees, Standing Stones, and nature’s creatures to guide with wisdom, each of the lives of every member of each tribe. Through the magic of Runes, each inscribed with ancient symbols, the future is foretold.

Anwen, a Celtic maiden, named for her beauty, as custom demands, is assigned at birth to marry a local Chieftain. She grew up to become a beautiful and desirable maiden. Anwen did not wish to marry the much older Chieftain of her tribe, Cathal, a powerful warrior. This was not because she was childish or selfish. It was in a dream she was told of her true love that existed somewhere in the land of her ancestors.

Her years went by and still she dreamed, although by now, she had married the older chieftain and bore him a son and a daughter. Anwen, now the healer of the tribe with powers given to her by the Goddesses dutifully went about her healing with love and care, yet inside, her deep loneliness cried out to the Goddesses to grant her the power to see her true love that she had dreamed of all of her life.

On a star-filled Beltane evening, with all the neighboring tribes celebrating together the rituals of fertility and renewal, they gathered around the high priest and the great wooden tower of fire to give prayers to the Gods and Goddesses for a bountiful year. Suddenly, as Anwen watched the Beltane fire as though the flames would reach the stars and out shine them, she felt a knowing, a certainty. Her true love was near, and her heart fluttered with joy.

Aodhan, a Chieftain from the farthest reaches of the land, arrived with his fellow tribesmen and women to Celebrate Beltane and unity with all the other tribes. Aodhan, a widower with no children, was father to all, in his small tribe in the far away mountains by the northern sea.

For Aodhan, named for Ireland’s ancient spirits of fire and light had the power of knowing, this, his gift from the Gods. He watched the other tribal revelers be enraptured by the tower of fire, as the flames roared and filled the night sky, Aodhan felt the terrible power of this omen, of things to come. Aodhan, looked at the moon, as a flicker of blood red crossed its path, foretelling brutal future. It bodes ill for the coming times.

Aodhan turned his back to the celebration and saw the most beautiful maiden that made his heart beat wildly. She was smiling at him as though she knew him, had known him and he felt this longing, a life time of longing and knew she was that need in him, his true love.

Aodhan approached her as though he had known her since the heavens formed the sky and starlight was born. He held out his hand and she hers. They held each other knowing without saying a word that they had at last found each other. The Goddesses had answered Anwen’s prayers.

As they held each other and gazed deeply into each other’s soul, memories long forgotten of centuries passed filled their being, knowing they had lived and loved before and that they would again one day, in another life. Their lips touched, but once, and their souls embraced and for that moment, they were one, Anwen the beautiful and Aodhan of fire and light.

The night hurried by as they sat on a hillside, looking at the stars until the morning sun crested the Celtic hills with colors of lavender, pink, and gold that bloomed across the sky. Anwen and Aodhan’s fingertips parted with the dawn light and both slowly turned away from each other, knowing their time would come in whatever future the Gods and Goddesses deemed for them. It was enough, this gift of knowledge, knowing that a future life would bring to them, an eternal embrace until the end of time.

The Boy With The Indigo Eyes – A Short Story by K. D. Dowdall

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jenna Sweet was taking a walk back in time. It was now mid-afternoon, sunny and warm. A slight breeze rustled through the trees. A dog barked in the distance. She walked along the side walk, not really aware of where she was headed. Jenna guessed it was by instinct alone, a path she could not forgot. A narrow bridge was ahead of her and Jenna knew it was the bridge that crossed over Stoney Brook.

It was a place where she swam and frolicked as a kid. It was where her mother and her aunt would bring lunch for Jenna and her cousins. Her mom and Aunt would sit around the picnic table talking, laughing, and smoking cigarettes. Both of them have been gone for a very long time now. It was a terrible accident. It changed all of their lives forever.

Jenna stood looking over the bridge, looking down into the rippling water feeling pensive and sad. She listened to the flow of the brook over the rocks and stones as the afternoon sunlight glittered on the water like sparklers on the fourth of July.  She breathed in the sweet smell of the glacier-fed brook and the musky scent of wet moss along its banks. A long kept memory of a young stranger came flooding back into her consciousness from the past.

Jenna was once again walking through the forest and it was cool and shadowy. She remembered how the sunlight coming through the tree tops dappled the forest floor with shades of sun-kissed yellow.  The forest, thought Jenna, was a masterpiece of infinite color, with shimmering emerald leaves, azure sky above, and chestnut brown earth below.  The pungent memory scent of evergreens enveloped Jenna’s senses. She remembered the feel of the waxy substance of the fallen leaves beneath her bare feet as she padded through the dense forest and listened for the sound of water against rock. She would follow the sound to discover the hidden part of the Brook that few had ever ventured to see.

Beneath the forest canopy she heard a slight rustle and then she saw the boy. His long slender legs moved with an effortless grace like a white-tailed deer through the brambles and bushes. He leaped dancer-like over decaying logs and skipped stone by stone over mossy growths, wet with dew.

The tall, dark-haired boy stopped now and again to smell the air as he made his way through the forest. Jenna, Indian-like, followed the boy through the brambles and bushes. She was almost close enough now to see his nostrils flare. In the distance, Jenna heard the flow of water over pebbles and stones as she followed the stranger who followed the sound of the brook.

Ahead of them were large granite boulders and the sound of rippling waters. She watched the boy as he skillfully scampered over the huge glacier boulders and disappeared from view. Jenna followed suit and climbed over the boulders to reach the rocky banks of the brook, but when she looked around, the boy was nowhere to be seen. She sat down for a moment and sighed as she wondered who he was and why she had never seen him before. After all, reasoned Jenna, this was a small farming community with only one middle school.

Jenna dangled her feet above the crystal clear water as she looked at her reflection that was gazing back at her. Her long golden brown braids framed a face that was tanned from the summer sun, hazel eyes now as deeply green as the moss beneath her feet.

She then slipped her slender pubescent body into the cool waters of the brook and was suddenly struck by an incredible sense of freedom within her being that was exhilarating and daunting at the same time. She was growing up and her life and all of life was before her.

Jenna looked down and saw that the wet cloth of her blouse had fallen away, revealing how her body was changing. Suddenly, she was aware of someone looking at her from above. It was the tall dark-haired boy. He was looking down at her. She was sure he had been watching her and then he smiled. Jenna blushed crimson. The boy’s broad shoulders and long muscular legs glistened in the warm sunlight as he stood high on the rocky over-hang above her.

Without acknowledging it, both Jenna and the boy were awakening to their bodies as they grew and changed. Soon, thought Jenna, they would no longer be the carefree children who swam with abandon and ran like deer through the ancient forest. Jenna turned away from the boy, but secretly smiled at this sweet flirtation as the sunlight sparkled like diamonds on the rocks, the trees, and the water’s surface.

The boy, not unlike an Indian brave stalking his prey, suddenly appeared near Jenna, having silently slipped into the water. It was his indigo blue eyes that startled her. The depth of emotion that emanated from his eyes, she didn’t understand. The boy smiled knowingly at Jenna. He could read her thoughts, she knew.

“Listen, he whispered to Jenna as he placed his hand near to his ear. “The water is whispering – do you know what it is saying?”

Jenna leaned into the water to hear the voice of the brook. The brook murmured as it gently flowed over the rocks.  Puzzled, Jenna could only shrug her shoulders.

The boy leaned closer to Jenna—his face just inches from her up-turned nose. His indigo blue eyes, now glittering in the sunlight, looked into Jenna’s eyes, willing her to somehow absorb the mystical knowledge of the brook that he so easily understood.

“You must hear it for yourself” he replied gently, in a voice that was softly mesmerizing. Jenna felt spellbound by his presence and she opened her mouth to speak, but she could only shake her head.

Suddenly, a flock of Canadian Geese flew over their heads and broke the spell. Both of them she remembered, had looked up together to see the geese majestically crossing the azure blue of the endless sky. So close to them, she thought, that she could feel the air move around them. A single feather swirled downward to the water’s edge and the boy gently cupped it in his hands. He then placed the feather in her hand. She brought it to her lips to touch and smell the still warm and fragrant odor of wheatgrass, marsh, and meadow. The white quill was downy soft and still warm. She would always keep it.

When Jenna turned to thank the boy, he had already climbed back up to the rocky ledge and was staring at her.

“Wait”, she cried out. “Who are you?”

“Someday you will know, Jenna.” And then he was gone.

Jenna stood on the bridge over-looking the brook remembering those moments long ago. She was now twenty-four years old and her life had taken many twists and turns since the day that seemed a lifetime ago. It surprised her how constant the memory of the boy stayed with her. How many years, she thought, have I returned to this town, to stand on this bridge, wondering whatever happened to the boy.  Jenna took the single white quill feather from her pocket and brought it to her lips. It still held the scent of wheatgrass, marsh, and meadow.

Jenna suddenly became aware that someone was watching her. She then turned to see a tall, dark-haired young man. He was staring at her. His long slender legs moved with an effortless grace as he walked toward her. She was stunned. There was something about him, she thought. Her mind raced with speculation.

The young man came to stand in front of her. He leaned in, closer to Jenna—his face just inches away from her up-turned nose. His indigo blue eyes, now resplendent in the afternoon sunlight, looked into Jenna’s, willing her to remember. “The water is whispering,” he said with a grin. “Do you know what it is saying?”

Jenna’s eyes opened wide. She nodded to the tall, dark-haired young man with the indigo blue eyes and smiled. “We are like the brook–a constant thing, she told him. “Nothing is ever truly lost, if one seeks to remember.

“Yes,” he said, “that is the secret of the brook.” The young man took her hand in his and together they walked down memories road, into the future.

Also posted on <a href=”https://www.bloglovin.com/blog/18450453/?claim=aaxzcdmsmpa“>Follow my blog with Bloglovin</a>

 

 

 

How to Write Better Stories

How to Write Better Stories

better stories

A few insights to help you write better stories.

You know that feeling you get when you read a novel and become completely lost in it? You can’t put it down, so you lose track of time. When you finally finish, you wish it would just keep going.

Isn’t that the kind of story you want to write?

Over the past year, I’ve read only a few books that I couldn’t put down. Unfortunately, several of the books I started to read didn’t keep my interest past the first few chapters. There was a time when I forced myself to finish every book I started, no matter how boring it was. But I don’t have time for that anymore. My book pile is big and my reading list is long, so if I’m not compelled by the time the second act gets underway, I move on and find something more intriguing.

As a reader, I’m on a perpetual quest for better stories. What does that mean for writers? 

1. The Best Fiction Sticks

I’ve been thinking about what makes some books so easy to put down and what makes others impossible to let go of. After reading The Catcher in the Rye, for example, I had the strangest feeling that Holden Caulfield was a real person. I expected him to come walking around some corner and start mumbling about the lousy week he was having. This sensation lingered for a few days, both times I read the book.

But let’s go back further. I read Charlotte’s Web when I was about six years old. Then I read it again. And again, and again. I watched the animated film over and over. No matter how many times I read the book or watched the movie, I always cried at the end. To this day, quotes from the book and scenes from the film get me choked up. It’s a story that sticks.

A few years ago, I couldn’t put down The Hunger Games. I’m a science-fiction fan, so the dystopian world intrigued me, but what really kept me glued to the page was the heroine, Katniss Everdeen. She wasn’t fearless, but she was brave, strong, and honorable.

Stories like these haunt readers, lingering in hearts and minds. These are the best kinds of stories.

2.  Writing Better Stories

If we want to write better stories, we need to read the best fiction and figure out what makes it so excellent. When I’m absorbed in a book, I always try to keep one corner of my mind focused on what the writer is doing so brilliantly to keep my full attention on the story. Some things are obvious: compelling characters, an interesting plot, realistic dialogue. Other elements of the best fiction are more elusive. Here are some observations I’ve made about how to write better stories:

3.  Give People a Reason to Read

If I get to the third chapter of a book and still don’t care about it, I’ll probably put it in the donation pile. The characters have to want something badly enough to go out there and try to get it. They must have purpose, an objective if you will. The characters’ purpose gives me a reason to read their stories. Intriguing mysteries and unanswered questions are also good reasons to keep turning pages.

4.  Don’t Bore Your Readers

Pages of description, minute details that are neither interesting nor relevant to the plot and dull scenes that have no essential function to the story will bore readers. Keep the conflicts coming and the action moving, and your readers will stay up to read your book rather than reading it to help them fall asleep.

5.  It’s the Little Things

Too much detail and description gets boring, but the right details can make an otherwise average scene extraordinary. One liners that make readers laugh, subtle (or overt) pop culture references, and symbolism that has deeper meaning keep readers stimulated.

6.  Stimulate Imagination, Provoke Thought, and Pull Heartstrings

Speaking of stimulation, it’s one of the main reasons people enjoy reading so much. Sure, lots of readers are just looking for escape and entertainment, but plenty of us want to engage our imaginations and have our intellects challenged. Get readers emotionally involved, and not only will they enjoy your book; they’ll also become loyal fans of your work.

7.  Do Something Different

Forget about trying to be completely original. I doubt that’s possible anymore. Every story is the result of stories that have come before. But that doesn’t mean you can’t put your unique stamp on the canon. Give old story premises new twists and your stories will feel fresh and invigorating.

7.  Write Smooth Sentences That Make Sense

This one is last on the list for a reason. One of the best novels I recently read did not have the best sentence structures. In fact, some paragraphs were fragmented and disjointed — not so much that I couldn’t understand what was going on, but it was jarring at times. The story was strong enough that I didn’t care that much, but this type of oversight can mean the difference between a four-star and a five-star review.

8.  How Do You Write Better Stories?

When you’re reading and writing fiction, do you think about the little things that make the difference between a mediocre story and a mesmerizing story? What was the last book you read that you couldn’t put down? What was it about that book that made it so potent? How do you apply what you’ve learned as a reader to your own fiction? How can authors learn to write better stories? Share your thoughts and experiences by leaving a comment, and keep writing!

My brief thoughts about this article.

I found that number 4 Suggestion really stood out regarding my own writing. I really write way too much description about scenery, weather, scent, and backstory.  I started out in my life drawing scenes of people, nature, landscapes of all kinds and then as a clinical researcher, detail was everything. So, now that I have found a pertinent excuse, I can excuse my excesses, however, it is a lesson now learned.  Karen

B is for Brand!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I came across this great article on Writer’s Digest, entitled Alpha-Blog Soup, by Gabriela Pereira, published this month and can be found Writer’s Digest on:  https://www.writersdigestshop.com/writer-s-digest-magazine-may-june-2-wd0618

I was totally engaged with the content. It appears there are levels to conquer before I can reach B for Brand! Great article, I thought. “But, I don’t have a brand!” I said aloud. I am a mix-match of a bit of everything,

Starting with A for Audience. Audience? I was hoping for everyone. It turns out my posts are meaningless without a Brand? So, 4 years of meaningless?  Well, I am not one to give up on having a Brand!

Now, taking my lessons from the author, I must find out the following:

  1. What themes come across in my novels?
  2. What emotions do my stories evoke?
  3. Why would readers want to read my novels in the first place?

I am told I must get into my readers heads and to do so, I must consider using The Breadcrumb Technique!

Step 1. Choose a ‘Comp Title’ and find one that is in my same genre. A competitive title is a book that is in the same genre and would draw the same kind of reader. But, but….my three novels are all in different genres. My current manuscript that I am writing is a mix of paranormal and a historical fiction. Hmmm….

Step 2. Browse the Reviews on Amazon in my chosen genre and look for only 3 stars and 4 stars (5 stars are not reliable, and 2 stars are by people with an axe to grind). Well, I thought, good to know!  Study a few of them and pick out phrases and specific word choices.  I can do that, I suppose.

Step 3. Examine the Reviewer by clicking the reviewers name and go to their profile (do all reviewers have profiles?).  Hmmm…that seems a little too crafty for me, but I will try.

Step 4. Choose a New Comp. This means to view genre books that have been reviewed by the same reviewer. If that doesn’t work out, then go to “Customers who bought this item also bought…” and continue following the breadcrumbs about readers who might like my books too. Okay…I can do that!

Step 5. Stop and Implement, because it is easy to get sucked into a research rabbit hole.  Oh, of course, and considering I am a clinical researcher by career, I would end up with dozens of pages and a hypothesis!  I would give up writing fiction and write a non-fiction about the psychology of reviewers! Well, that is not such a bad idea!  I will put that on my New Project List forthwith!

Now, I thought, for the real “red meat of the article”. B is for Brand!  Yes!!

Step 1. Look up my name on Google.  Find out what is being said about me? Someone is talking about me?? Good Grief! Well…I was shocked. I should have used a pseudonym. I am strongly considering it, but it may be too late for that now, I guess.

How can they list my email address, my old address, my writing on WordPress and even Facebook, as well as my daughters names and more! Much of it is completely wrong…and is about another person(s) named Karen Dowdall. I was surprised to see how many have my name too!  Is this legal, I thought, However, I could use my maiden name and maybe from this point forward I will. But, then again, I would have to start all over, from scratch.

Step 2.  Imagine. I must use imagery for my blog writes the author.  Well, I do that in spades!  I am good to go for imagery!  I have my photo on my blog too, and that is important, as the author writes, “for making that human to human connection.”

Step 3. Voice.  “This is perhaps the most difficult aspect of branding to quantify or explain.”, writes the author. I must be approachable, have a presence for my readers and how they feel when they interact with me or my blog.  Hmmm…. I guess I need to do a survey?

The author continues with C is for Content and Conversions and then D, E, F.

It is an excellent article and the author of this article, Gabriela Pereira, has been down this road herself, obviously.  I am now going to Google her!

by K. DeMers formally Karen Dowdall …just kidding!