Happy Halloween. Heeere's Johnny!

We had our writing meeting of the Headwaters Writers' Guild today and I was inspired to write a short Halloween story that I HAD to post. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thanks to Richard for the many prompt suggestions I used.

"How many times do I have to tell you 'Never run with a sharp cleaver!'" Johnny's mother yelled at him for the tenth time that day.

"For heaven's sake, ma," he said. "I know what I'm doing. I've been a butcher for thirteen years now."

Ma stood in the doorway and glared. The colour combination of her outfit was hideous, but none of her customers seemed to mind. Particularly not the ones she led to the back room into Johnny's lair.

"I'm a psychic," she said. "Don't you think I know what's going to happen?"

Johnny rolled his eyes. "Then how come you can never predict the Super Bowl?"

Ma waved him away. Her gaze fell on the severed hand that still clutched a red rose. "Will you finish cleaning up in here already? I have a ten-thirty appointment and the last thing worn out housewives want to see in my shop is disembodied body parts unless--"

He groaned. "Unless they're bat wings or newt eyes or snake fangs. I know, I know."

The bells of the front door chimed and Ma straightened her black wig. Her own hair hadn't been black since Trudeau was in office. She shot him one last warning glance and disappeared through the black curtain.

Johnny grinned and finished tidying up the workroom. This would be the final guest he would have in the back room of this shop. After tonight, he and Ma would take their act out on the road.

The smell of incense greeted his nose and he held in a sneeze. He hated the stuff, but it added to the aura of the fortuneteller's store front and masked the smell of the blood. Ma murmured to the customer out front. A woman, he knew. Johnny could recite the entire routine in his head. "You will come into money. You will meet a tall, dark, handsome man." The normal schtick. He had thirty minutes from the time their guest sat down until his debut in the waiting area.

Today, however, he was tired of the usual routine. He longed to get on the road and see a different part of the country. For today, Johnny decided, he would go into the room through the black velvet curtain rather than around the building and through the front door. Ma would be angry, but she'd get over it.

A red light flashed above the doorway. It was a signal that he and Ma had hooked up between her seat at the table and the back room. An emergency beacon in case anything went wrong. Johnny watched the light flash once then twice before it remained dark.

"Now what?" he asked the silent room. "Is she in trouble or not?"

He picked up the cleaver and crept toward the black velvet cloth. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed a long-stemmed red rose and pulled aside the curtain. "Here's Johnny!" he said.

A scream shattered the stillness of the night. His mother's eyes were wild. "Run, Johnny, run!"

"Don't bother, Johnny." The well-dressed woman across the table from Ma turned her gun on him. "You're under arrest."

Johnny dropped the cleaver. "Some psychic you are."

Happy Halloween!

Hi ho, hi ho...

It's been a busy couple of months for me. We've been short staffed at my "day job" so I haven't had a lot of time to write or submit. What precious time I have had, has been spent editing. I am lucky to have some great readers/editors in the Headwaters Writer's Guild who have been nudging me along with my work.

I had a boost of inspiration this weekend by an email from Wynterblue Publishing. They host a 24 hour contest every month with different prompts to get your juices flowing. If you are a member, they are free to enter. If not, they ask for $5. Being a member, I decided to get on board and write a 1,500 word short story. I even entered it.

This got me on a roll this weekend. I also submitted a short story called "Tula's Miracle" to Glimmertrain.
AND another short called "Ball of Beige Wool" to the Dorothy Shoemaker Literary Contest out of the Kitchener Public Library. The Wynterblue contest may be closed by now, but the other two go on until the end of October for Glimmertrain (they always have contests brewing) and the end of November for KPL.
Feel free to join me!

Now that I've got the contest stuff out of my hair, I'm back to editing and working on two new stories, one of which is for my kids and their patience with me is running out quickly.

This week will be another busy work week, but I know I've gotten some submissions in and that makes me feel a lot more like a writer than I've been feeling lately.

It's raining, it's pouring...

There's a gentle rain that has been falling all night. Much nicer to wake up to than the frost on the lawn yesterday. Frost is too closely related to snow for my taste! I find rain to be good for my writing. I'm forced to stay indoors and at my computer since I can't be out working in the yard or walking. (Although I could get the laundry done if I wanted.)

Today, however, I am using the rain to my benefit. Editing and writing top the list.
I attended a Brian Henry writing workshop Oct 2 to learn more about writing for children and young adults. From that workshop, I have been inspired to do two things. 1) Edit the two or three YA book I have tucked in a closet and 2) start to write a book for my two younger boys.

The editing part is causing less stress than having to create a new chapter every night! At least the boys are having fun listening to it and giving me more and more ideas. I take note of the suggestions and use the ones that will fit the storyline. So far I've discovered two things: my kids have great imaginations and (thanks to me and Gordon Korman) they are terrified of going to summer camp! Good thing it's autumn.

Fall is a great time for reaping ideas, squirreling them away and using them up all winter.
Happy squirreling!

Ridding myself of the deadwood

After a wonderful vacation, which included a lot of driving, I came home to nearly a hundred emails - most of which I deleted. From those emails, I got the sense that I was being sent things that I shouldn't have been sent. Disagreements between other people that I was being indirectly involved in. I decided to lighten my load and rid myself of two volunteer positions that were dragging me down and taking away from my creative time and energy effectively giving me Writer's Block. One of these positions, I was unclear about cutting ties from until today.

Earlier today I was in the local library and stumbled across a copy of Psychic by Sylvia Browne. I read it in pretty much one sitting. One passage she wrote particularly jumped out at me:
As sometimes happens when I'm overwhelmed, I begin sinking into a deep depression. Since I know that's not uncommon, it's worth mentioning that I later learned to call it a "psychic attack." Please don't let that conjure up an image of me on a rampage through Cleveland with a machine gun. The term refers to an attack on the psyche when we involuntarily begin hearing and believing all the negative, debilitating, confidence-shattering "tapes" that play over and over and over again in our minds when we're exhausted, ill, and/or far too busy for our own good. The tapes are the insults and insulting thoughts aimed at us by the dark entities we've let into our lives.
She goes on to say that everyone has those same tapes playing in our heads and they all sound remarkably alike.

This paragraph struck a chord with me. I've been miserable and suffering "psychic attacks" for a long time now. From both volunteer posts which have nearly driven me to drink and a friendship that I've been struggling to free myself from. As fate would have it, one of the volunteer jobs came to an end of its own accord. The other I was driven out from out of sheer frustration. And the friend is moving. To help life return to a better balance, I have a permanent post at my job which lets me work two days a week and spend the other three pursuing my dreams of being a writer.

Sometimes Writer's Block, isn't a block at all. It's a sign that something has to give to make room for the creative self.

Lazy Days of Summer and Fall Resolutions

Wow, what a crazy summer! Between taking my oldest to Sudbury for the 2010 Ontario Summer Games, working, keeping my kids amused and trying hard to get some writing done, summer is nearly gone. The leaves are starting to fall for heaven's sake!

On the plus side, Fall brings me more time to write. My work schedule will be more routine this year and the kids will all be at school. At our HWG meeting Sunday, someone asked how many books I've written. I couldn't give her an exact number. I ballparked it at ten. Sounds about right. This year, however, they are almost ready to go.

Ready for what? Ready to be polished and queried. I have one that is ready, The Secret Life of the Bookstore Lady. The next book in that "series" is called Date with a Dead Guy. It still needs some edits and a good query letter. Once it's older sister is gone, it'll be close behind. The third book, Padded Walls, I have to take another look at. When they do get published, I will be indebted to my wonderful editor Laura LaRocca forever!

But before I get into all the intensive edits and rewrites, I'm taking a vacation.
My brain is distracted by a new story that won't leave me alone. This one takes place in the southern US where I plan to go soon. Nothing like a little research! I'll give you more details later and maybe even post a chapter.

In the meantime, if you are on Facebook, check out the new HWG site! My friend RichardGoodship set it up and it's already getting a few members. Just search for Headwaters Writers Guild and you'll find us!

Enjoy what's left of summer!

The Roads We Travel and Towns we Build

I'm going to Sudbury this week for the Ontario Youth Summer Games. My oldest son is competing and I am taking the opportunity to do some research. One of my novels has a section that takes place in Sudbury and, so far, I've been stuck researching vicariously via the internet and maps. Now I get the opportunity to go there and see it for myself.

There is something to be said for accuracy. When you create your own little town, like I have for my series, you can build and remove whatever you want. When you use a real city or town, like Sudbury, you have to remain true to what is there. Of course, if you want to use your creative license to build an imaginary building on an empty lot that's your own perogative.

Creating a whole new world for your characters isn't always easy. I've had to map it out since more than one book takes place there. And I still make mistakes! For towns in the real world, Google Earth and Google Maps can be your best friends. (Aside from going there in person.)

Have fun playing and building new worlds as well as new characters. Look what it did for J.K. Rowling.

Hearing Voices

I haven't had a lot of time to write anything over the past week. My job in the real world has a bad habit of caging the little voices that compel me to write and stifling them. I have to force myself to think in a linear fashion, not in my usual whirlwind of creativity. The job I currently have, however, introduces me to characters that even I could not make up. When my friends say those "characters" are stereotypes, I beg to argue. I've met them! They're real.



Do I really hear voices? Technically, no. But I do get whole scenes, lines and even stories flashing through my head. Some are gone before I can write them down, but others haunt me until I do and insist they be given their own life.



Remember way back when to a show called "The Facts of Life"? Mindy Cohn's character Natalie Green was a writer and insisted that she needed to work a variety of jobs in order to get to meet people and gain experience in the "real world". The one that comes to mind is when she drove a hearse. I can't say I have ever driven a hearse, but I have held a variety of jobs and met a variety of people.

Watching and talking to people is one of the best ways to find characters. Or to make composites of characters. It's like mixing paint. You take one part of Aunt Minnie, two parts of your good friend Sandy and a dab of Uncle Sal and get my wonderful character named Mimsy Lexington. Okay, just and example. I really don't know who Mimsy is a composite of, but she's a fun character to get to play with!

Characters appear everywhere and in everyone. Your boss, your spouse, your kids, the old lady who lives across the back alley and keeps rabbits in her garage . . . even parts of yourself that you would rather no one know about. The one who hears the voices.