In Today’s Journal
* Quotes of the Day
* Wow
* A Horror Show of Myths
* Audiobook Narration, and a Brief Memoir
* Of Interest
Quotes of the Day
“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” Anton Chekov (Widely attributed advice emphasizing active, sensory imagery over passive statements.)
“Caress the details, the divine details.” (Highlighting how intimate, precise descriptions bring a fictional world to life.)
“If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it.” Elmore Leonard (A famous rule of thumb reminding writers to keep descriptions invisible and natural.)
Wow
Welp, I’m a student again, this time in Dean’s “40K Seminar” (see Of Interest), and on day one I’ve already had a epiphany.
By that, I mean I learned one thing about branding and book covers that I should have already known—after all, I’ve studied dozens of covers—but just never quite noticed.
So over the next few days, in addition to attending class, writing, etc. I’ll revise all 55 of my Blackwell Ops covers and probably more beyond that. It’s much overdue.
Some revelations are freeing, but they can still create a lot of work. (grin)
A Horror Show of Myths
I’ll be brief.
If you’d like to see “what works” (but really doesn’t work at all), read “The Most Productive Writing Day I Never Had.”
I didn’t bother leaving a comment because if the author had responded with any version of “Well, it works for me” I think my head might’ve exploded.
Writing is an action.
To write is to put new words on the page.
Doing anything else is not writing. Thinking is not writing, talking about writing is not writing, researching is not writing, and folding laundry is not writing.
And no, your “most productive writing day” is never a day when you don’t write. That’s just ludicrous. It’s like saying “On my most productive walking day I never left the couch.”
Look, it really is simple:
- If you’re a writer and you’re writing, good for you.
- But if you aren’t writing because of a life roll or because you have chores to do or for whatever other reason, don’t make excuses. Just own the situation, work through it as quickly and well as you can, and get back to writing when you’re able.
Okay, now for something fun.
Audiobook Narration, and a Brief Memoir
Yesterday, my audiobook narrator Jason McGinty sent me Chapter 8 of the first novel in the Wes Crowley series. (See the first post in Jason’s three-part guest series here.)
In the email that accompanied the audio file, Jason mentioned his favorite part of the book so far was the exchange between the Reverend Perot and Herbert McFadden.
In my initial reply to Jason, I wrote
“I didn’t remember I’d memorialized Reverend Perot in any of my books or stories, but I’m glad I did. He was my pastor in the Church of the Nazarene in the sprawling metropolis of Tatum, New Mexico when I was a teenager roughly 1500 years ago.”
Then, of course, I set everything else aside and listened to Jason’s rendering of the chapter.
As expected, he did an absolutely excellent job with the accents and inflections of both the Reverend Perot and Pappy McFadden, men of similar age but with very different upbringings and occupations.
He also did a great job with the voices of Wes and Mac and with the narrative in between.
As I listened, I learned that I’d also memorialized Reverend Perot’s wife Edith, who was also my teacher for the second half of my first-grade year, as Herbert McFadden’s deceased wife.
And finally, that chapter hit on two of my personal favorite parts of the entire series:
- The advice Herbert (Pappy) McFadden gave Mac and Wes after he handed them two used Navy Colts, and
- Wes’ horse Charley naming himself soon after Wes and Mac rode south from Pappy’s house in Watson, Texas. Charley plays an important role and is a fairly major character until his eventual heroic death much later in the series.
All of that caused me to write to Jason again, and I added a brief memoir, which for some goofy reason I thought he might enjoy. I thought I’d share it with you. This is from years later, after we’d moved away from Tatum and then moved back when I was in 9th grade.
Reverend Perot was a Louisiana boy and a fire-and-brimstone preacher.
He had a conservatively cut mane of white hair and a body like actor Charles Durning in the film Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? His face had the self-righteous glow of Billy Graham but with fat cheeks and the melting, squashed features of Jabba the Hut from Star Wars.
When the good reverend was feeling his oats on a Sunday morning, he’d get so fired up he’d parade (stomping) back and forth across the small stage in the tiny Church of the Nazarene in Tatum, wagging one index finger in the air and occasionally slapping his palms together for emphasis (usually a second too late) as he delivered his sermon.
Mrs. Perot, who doubled as the church organist, would occasionally hit a dramatic key combination when her husband hit a high point.
Meanwhile, my buddy Paul and I (around ages 12 and 14, respectively) were sitting in a pew beside Paul’s angelic mother (Sally), often giggling into our hands, whereupon Sally would glance at us with the slightest smile on her face and stage-whisper “Hush, you boys!”
Of course, that was a recommendation we most often ignored, primarily because although we had the desire to comply, we lacked the ability.
Fortunately, the little church survived and the Reverend Perot never noticed our silliness. Or at least he never let us know he noticed.
Good times and great memories. Thanks for letting me share.
Talk with you again soon.
Of Interest
40K Seminar… This seminar actually started yesterday (Monday) and he’s already taken more students than he’d planned, but he might still take more if you email him. Good luck!