Was she a bully? I’m not sure. I can’t remember a single time that she was really mean to me, but it was a long time ago. I remember her as a loner. She didn’t fit in. Didn’t have many friends. Was behind in school. She seemed hard and unfriendly.
One day in the swimming pool she snarled at me and said something rude. I retorted with something equally rude. I think she swore. My friend told the lifeguard, who asked me for details. I don’t know why, but I stretched the truth. I made it sound much worse than it was, and the “bully” was tossed out of the swimming pool, not for just the day, but for the season.
She was a lonely girl with not much going for her. In one thoughtless instant, I made her life worse.
I wish I could take it back.
I don’t know her name, or where she lives, but I wish I could tell her how sorry I am. I wish I could say “Come sit by me.” “Let’s go to lunch.” “Tell me how you’re feeling.” “Let’s go for a walk.” I’d like to show her that people can change. I’d like to make her laugh. I’d like to see her smile.
I don’t know how to reach out to her, but maybe I can reach out to someone else.
Come sit by me.
Linda Garner
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Pears and Pictures
I love to watch my children and grandchildren interact with each other. It’s fun to sit back at a family gathering and watch relationships form and strengthen. I’ve been thinking about this because of two incidents that brought it to mind this week.
My mother has a wonderful pear tree that bears the most delicious fruit. When her grandchildren were little, they loved to eat the pears fresh in the fall right from the tree. Now the grandchildren are grown and have children of their own, and they live from the east coast to the west and many places in between. They still talk about Grandma’s pears and how much fun they had picking and eating them. Mother and I decided several years ago, when the kids were complaining about not being there for pear harvest, that we could still continue the tradition. Mother and I now pick the pears and slice them onto the fruit dryer. In a few hours they are ready to mail. I send them to all parts of the country, and in the next several days everyone calls up to say they are sitting on the sofa eating dried pears and loving them. (Everyone, except the missionary in southern Argentina. He didn’t get them yet.) Everybody loves the pears, but more than that, they love the connection with their grandmother.
Our daughter has been scanning the old slides and downloading them onto an internet site so they are available to all the family. She put some of the pictures of extended family gatherings on Facebook and let the relatives know they were there. The cousins have had a good reminiscing about old times and catching up on family news. I know some of them haven’t talked since the last family reunion a couple of years ago.
Did you ever think Facebook would be a blessing in your life? I didn’t, but I do now.
Pears and Pictures have brought us closer together. Think of some of the connecting catalysts in your own family. Share your suggestions.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Stinkin' Old Wonderful Corner Thingy
"Do you want this? I'm just going to set it out on the curb and wait to see if someone takes it."
In the back of the truck was an old broken armoire, the special kind that can snuggle in a corner. It was dingy and its cupboard doors were off their hinges, its frame torn from it's center.
Oh yeah! A corner wardrobe thingy. I had always wanted one. I had some tools -hammer, heavy duty staples, varnish, time. Maybe I could fix it up. Even if I couldn't get those doors back on.
So the next day, I got to work. I washed, nailed, re-hinged, added awesome new knobs.
And then it was finished (I even got the doors fixed).
It turned out better than I thought. It was beautiful. (I cried a little. I also did a happy dance which turned out more embarrassing than I had planned when the mailman walked in front of my window.)
Today, it sits in my front room corner, hiding all my stuff and making my room actually look clean (I love that! Plus I can hide my chocolate chips in there and NOBODY knows- mwa ha ha). All to the thanks of all my tools. Thanks tools!
Sometimes my wip reminds me of that old broken armoire. I just want to set it on the corner outside and wait for someone to take it away. But deep down I know it can be fixed. I just need the right tools -crit buddies (super loves ya), revisions, rewrites.
It's going to be beautiful one day. And when it's done-I'm going to set that book down, inside the corner wardrobe thingy, where all my special stuff goes and do a super happy dance. I don't even care if the mailman sees me.
So how about you? How do you feel when you are doing rewrites/revisions? Do you feel like you can do it? do you feel like it's worth it?
p.s. I'm unplugging for a few days. The kids have school off and we are going to party (as long as they call cleaning out their rooms partying. Mwa ha ha)!
Have a great week guys!
In the back of the truck was an old broken armoire, the special kind that can snuggle in a corner. It was dingy and its cupboard doors were off their hinges, its frame torn from it's center.
Oh yeah! A corner wardrobe thingy. I had always wanted one. I had some tools -hammer, heavy duty staples, varnish, time. Maybe I could fix it up. Even if I couldn't get those doors back on.
So the next day, I got to work. I washed, nailed, re-hinged, added awesome new knobs.
And then it was finished (I even got the doors fixed).
It turned out better than I thought. It was beautiful. (I cried a little. I also did a happy dance which turned out more embarrassing than I had planned when the mailman walked in front of my window.)
Today, it sits in my front room corner, hiding all my stuff and making my room actually look clean (I love that! Plus I can hide my chocolate chips in there and NOBODY knows- mwa ha ha). All to the thanks of all my tools. Thanks tools!
Sometimes my wip reminds me of that old broken armoire. I just want to set it on the corner outside and wait for someone to take it away. But deep down I know it can be fixed. I just need the right tools -crit buddies (super loves ya), revisions, rewrites.
It's going to be beautiful one day. And when it's done-I'm going to set that book down, inside the corner wardrobe thingy, where all my special stuff goes and do a super happy dance. I don't even care if the mailman sees me.
So how about you? How do you feel when you are doing rewrites/revisions? Do you feel like you can do it? do you feel like it's worth it?
p.s. I'm unplugging for a few days. The kids have school off and we are going to party (as long as they call cleaning out their rooms partying. Mwa ha ha)!
Have a great week guys!
Monday, October 11, 2010
Getting in Character by Christy Monson
I'd like to introduce you to Christy Monson, one of my new writer buddies. Christy did a Guest Blog for us a couple of weeks ago. She's joining our blog as a regular, as soon as we can figure out the technicalities of adding her to our blog. Okay, so Carolyn and I are a little technically challenged. (Where are you, Laura, when we need you.) Christy will post on Mondays, so check back for more from her next Monday. I'll be back again next Tuesday. LG
I attended a workshop with Clint Johnson at the League of Utah Writer’s Roundup in September. He had us write an incident from one character’s point of view, and then he asked us to write the same scene from another character’s point of view. In each exercise, the setting was seen from different eyes. The smells and sounds were different. The voice of each carried a unique view of the world. Internal and external dialogue differed according to the person.
When I write my scenes, do I take time to get into each character’s head to really know their world? Do I really let them have their own thoughts and actions?
Relationships with my characters can be tricky sometimes. It takes time for me to become friends with my characters. And, as friends, sometimes we don’t think alike. We have to discuss issues and come to an agreement, and I’m the one who usually has to ‘listen up.’
For instance, in my novel, CLAWING EAGLE, my main character (a Hopi Indian Youth) and his friend go to the Grand Canyon to capture a young eagle. At first I had them climb down a ledge and throw a blanket over a sleeping eagle, but both the boys let me know that wasn’t how they wanted to catch the bird. Besides, didn’t I know the eagle would fly away. Then I had them throw a net over the raptor when he was eating a rabbit, but that wasn’t right either. They informed me that was how you catch fish. Finally, I contacted a raptor expert who told me exactly how to build a blind to catch the bird. The boys constructed a shallow grave and covered it with pine branches. One of them crawled inside to wait. The other tied a rabbit to the cover. When the eagle dove for the rabbit, the boy inside the grave reached between the branches and caught the eagle’s leg. Both boys liked it, and they were successful.
Go figure! Whatever works, I say.
Christy Monson christymonson.blogspot.com
I attended a workshop with Clint Johnson at the League of Utah Writer’s Roundup in September. He had us write an incident from one character’s point of view, and then he asked us to write the same scene from another character’s point of view. In each exercise, the setting was seen from different eyes. The smells and sounds were different. The voice of each carried a unique view of the world. Internal and external dialogue differed according to the person.
When I write my scenes, do I take time to get into each character’s head to really know their world? Do I really let them have their own thoughts and actions?
Relationships with my characters can be tricky sometimes. It takes time for me to become friends with my characters. And, as friends, sometimes we don’t think alike. We have to discuss issues and come to an agreement, and I’m the one who usually has to ‘listen up.’
For instance, in my novel, CLAWING EAGLE, my main character (a Hopi Indian Youth) and his friend go to the Grand Canyon to capture a young eagle. At first I had them climb down a ledge and throw a blanket over a sleeping eagle, but both the boys let me know that wasn’t how they wanted to catch the bird. Besides, didn’t I know the eagle would fly away. Then I had them throw a net over the raptor when he was eating a rabbit, but that wasn’t right either. They informed me that was how you catch fish. Finally, I contacted a raptor expert who told me exactly how to build a blind to catch the bird. The boys constructed a shallow grave and covered it with pine branches. One of them crawled inside to wait. The other tied a rabbit to the cover. When the eagle dove for the rabbit, the boy inside the grave reached between the branches and caught the eagle’s leg. Both boys liked it, and they were successful.
Go figure! Whatever works, I say.
Christy Monson christymonson.blogspot.com
Thursday, October 7, 2010
You've Got Syle, Baby
I‘m also in the middle of revising my dystopian TORN.
Plus, I post here on my blog. Which I love. (Love ya blogger buddies!)
The funny thing is…when I write—in my book, for my school projects, on my blog—my tone of writing changes. Yup, my voice changes.
I try to be articulate when I write for school, making sure every word sounds elaborate and knowledgeable. (For example: “The obscure editorial's statistics do not calculate in favor of variation. Therefore, I conclude that it does not work.”)
When I’m writing in my book, I put myself in my character’s head, writing only words and thoughts that she would say. (Like, “Her voice was sweet. Too sweet. And she blinked at him way too many times for her eyeballs to be moistened.” She's a little jealous.)
On my blog, I write in more of myself. I like fun light things, so that’s how I write. (Plus I always add in a little random thought here and there, which sometimes makes no sense at all. But I can do it, because I’m a writer—at least that’s my excuse.)
See? My writing style changes.
I think as writers, when we are looking more than one character in our wip, we need to look at the style and voice we want to give them. Because no two people are alike, neither are our characters or their circumstances. They talk differently, they act differently. That’s how you can differentiate them and give them style.
What do you do to make your characters’ voices and style different?
p.s. Thanks Carolyn A (her name totally rocks!) for the awesome Strangely Irresistible ~ Yo Gabba Gabba award! I love it. I will pass it on, hopefully soon. =D
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
God's Post-it Notes
Aren't they cute. I know they're tiny, but if you click on them individually they get bigger. Come back tomorrow for more great thoughts like these.
I hope I don't get in trouble for posting this. It's not my work. It was an email forward. I loved it enough to share it with you. Enjoy. Have an awesome day.
Linda Garner
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