Hello and Have a happy holiday if you’re into it,
I learned a few days ago I can hold a book signing at the New York Police Museum in Manhattan, on 100 Slip near Staten Island on tentatively October, 29. I am of course thrilled and so far not too nervous, I'm excited; for one, to get the chance to visit New York after all these years, to be alive in that great city. I have an itinerary of three excursions I hope I can do which includes not only the signing at the museum but to get to tour it as well, I have a feeling their police museum is terrific(Cleveland has one too and its a good one) filled with so much of the departments phenomenal history; I hope there’s an exhibit on Frank Serpico and the Knapp Commission.
I also hope to do a Ride-Along out of the 1-9 precinct, this would be terrific though I’m hoping it won’t taint my ideas of police life in the precincts for my novels—it probably will--I’ll just have to keep a rein on it because I’m satisfied with how I depict the police in my novels.
Lastly, I want to meet Mayor Bloomberg, this is not a weird request. I admire him and know he's done a wonder job for the city I'm in love with; so to meet him would be a terrific experience.
That’s my New York trip; unfinalized, but getting there. The most important reason for going there is in reality to get my novel and the next two known in the city they’re set and to also get the real feel, taste and smell of the place I imagine each and every day. I’ll keep you posted if and when I get the okay for parts of my itinerary; I’m going to do what’s necessary to make my trip a success because it’ll help make my novels that much better.
I hope you got to watch Barack Obama’s acceptance speech, it was awe-inspiring and one of the most important things I came away with from the experience was the fact that he or his team had to write it, face that blank sheet and come up with the best words, the sweetest historical references, the here and now experiences of us Americans and put it down on paper; it was an amazing undertaking. Yet, through the miraculous power of putting words and sentences together he's able to inspire the world.
If you have any comments or suggestions please e-mail me at my new address: shabazzl@adasbcc.org.
Until next time, God willing,
Lori
Friday, August 29, 2008
Friday, August 22, 2008
Hello and Happy Friday,
I know I do a lot of talking about writing, I say I write but who knows if I do? I do; so here's a short story, flash fiction I think and I hope you like it:
ICE CREAM AND CHRISTMAS TREES
Gerald shivered beside the rows of spruces, firs and pines, smelling their sharp tang as they glowed dark green under the string of Christmas lights. It was twenty degrees but felt colder, maybe because it was Colorado in December or because he’d been standing there for four hours watching people dressed in parkas, snow boots and ski hats eating all manner of ice cream; single, double and triple scooped cones, banana splits, sundaes, parfaits and frosty milkshakes as he tried to sell Christmas trees and watch for Sherry.
He stamped his feet and rubbed together his gloved hands as he watched car headlights come off the highway ramp and down the street toward him either to pass by or stop at Romeo’s Ice Cream Emporium where he sold the trees. He’d always thought it funny-strange how the place did a brisk business in winter where you would think the idea of having ice cream would be horrible. But Marvin Pile, the old man who owned the ice cream stand along with half the commercial strip, said folks seemed to love it even more in winter than in summer so that was one reason he kept it open year round.
“Some of my best business done in the winter,” said Marvin, a pock marked, skinny man who looked like he never ate a thing let alone ice cream. “People love the frozen cow’s milk whatever the time of year.”
Romeo’s was little more than a stand with a neon ice-cream cone tilted helter-skelter on its roof and was only large enough for two people to work inside at one time. A drive-through sized window was cut out its front with a lip attached; customer’s walked up, ordered and the order was pushed out on to the lip for pick up. A couple of picnic tables sat on the tarmac off to the side for anyone brave enough to risk a frozen rear for their frozen treat. Marvin, partial to entrepreneurs, had for the last three years kindly let him sell holiday trees on the small lot next to the stand for two percent of the take and it had worked out pretty well too; it seemed eating ice cream put a lot of people in a good mood to buy Christmas trees. There was a line even now at the stand though it was close to eight
Where was she? Did something happen? He looked at the cars coming toward him all passing by. A guy wearing a black down-filled coat and an orange hunting cap and eating two large scoops of what looked like to Gerald Rocky Road ice cream, walked over. Pointing to a balsam fir over seven feet tall, full from top to bottom and the silvery blue of a deep, clean lake asked, “How much is that one?”
“Its forty dollars,” Gerald glanced over the man’s shoulder at the passing cars.
The man looked at the tree, licked his ice cream, shrugged, “Its nice enough and a good size; I’ll take it.” He fished around in his coat pocket, told Gerald, “Hold this,” handed him the cone, took out a wad of bills and pulled off two twenties.
Gerald took the money and handed the guy back his ice cream. He cut a half-inch off the tree’s trunk, hauled it to the guy’s Ford pick-up and laid it carefully in the truck’s bed.
“Merry Christmas,” he called out to the guy just as Sherry’s red Corolla came off the ramp, down the street and pulled up beside him. Gerald felt the knots of fear in his stomach loosen a little at the sight of her.
She got quickly out the car looking at once beautiful, terrified and eager but mostly beautiful; they stared at each other, then met holding on to each other next to a set of decorative wreaths with red bows.
“I thought he wouldn’t let you get away.”
She stuck a strand of soft black hair underneath her cap, the plume of her cold breath smelled like fresh peppermint, “I didn’t think he’d buy my story but he didn’t give me any trouble this time; he usually has a fit if I got out without him.” The violet eyes in her slim face took hold of mines, “Do you have the money?”
“Cleaned out my bank account,” he said. I’ll never complain again about working day construction. You?”
She opened her purse, took out a white envelope and opened to the to the bills packed inside, “That’s everything. You think it’ll be enough to get us started?” Her glorious eyes looked again into mine and I nodded.
If we’d had ten dollars between us I would’ve still nodded; the money didn’t matter only that they were together and could get away together was his only concern and had been the first time he’d laid eyes on her; to have her, to make her his any way he had to.
“Have you sold a lot of trees?” she looked around.
“Not many, my mind hasn’t been on it tonight. You ready to go? There’s nothing else keeping us here is it?”
She shook her head and smiled, “I’m scared but ready. I love you.” She took his hand, “Can we have a last one to go?”
“Anything. I love you.”
They started for Romeo’s as her husband Jimmy came off the ramp, down the street in his green Cadillac STS, hitting a Fraser fir and tumbling it over to knock down six other firs before he stopped and jumped out of the car pointing a pistol at them; he was crying.
“I thought it was me you loved,” he waved the gun at them. The people buying ice cream had frozen as they stared at the three of them.
“Not anymore,” Sherry’s right hand went to my chest. “I’m Gerald’s now.”
“She loves me,” I said, “It can’t be helped, Jimmy.” My eyes went from his wet face to the gun, “There’s nothing you can do about it.”
Jimmy’s face sucked in as if he’d been forced fed a sack of lemons;, his eyes closing “You sure; that damn sure?” He pulled back the trigger.
Sherry and Gerald glanced at each other and nodded; their eyes only for each other. Jimmy opened his and saw it under the hanging Christmas tree lights and neon helter-skelter ice cream cone. He released the trigger, his arm sinking down from the weight of the gun and lost love. “I can’t leave here with nothing?” he said.
Sherry moved toward him, took the gun and tossed it into the front seat of the car, “How about an ice cream and a Christmas tree.”
The End
Send me a story if you want; the reading is almost as important as the writing.
If you have any comments or suggestions please e-mail me at my new address: shabazzl@adasbcc.org.
Until next time, God willing
Lori
I know I do a lot of talking about writing, I say I write but who knows if I do? I do; so here's a short story, flash fiction I think and I hope you like it:
ICE CREAM AND CHRISTMAS TREES
Gerald shivered beside the rows of spruces, firs and pines, smelling their sharp tang as they glowed dark green under the string of Christmas lights. It was twenty degrees but felt colder, maybe because it was Colorado in December or because he’d been standing there for four hours watching people dressed in parkas, snow boots and ski hats eating all manner of ice cream; single, double and triple scooped cones, banana splits, sundaes, parfaits and frosty milkshakes as he tried to sell Christmas trees and watch for Sherry.
He stamped his feet and rubbed together his gloved hands as he watched car headlights come off the highway ramp and down the street toward him either to pass by or stop at Romeo’s Ice Cream Emporium where he sold the trees. He’d always thought it funny-strange how the place did a brisk business in winter where you would think the idea of having ice cream would be horrible. But Marvin Pile, the old man who owned the ice cream stand along with half the commercial strip, said folks seemed to love it even more in winter than in summer so that was one reason he kept it open year round.
“Some of my best business done in the winter,” said Marvin, a pock marked, skinny man who looked like he never ate a thing let alone ice cream. “People love the frozen cow’s milk whatever the time of year.”
Romeo’s was little more than a stand with a neon ice-cream cone tilted helter-skelter on its roof and was only large enough for two people to work inside at one time. A drive-through sized window was cut out its front with a lip attached; customer’s walked up, ordered and the order was pushed out on to the lip for pick up. A couple of picnic tables sat on the tarmac off to the side for anyone brave enough to risk a frozen rear for their frozen treat. Marvin, partial to entrepreneurs, had for the last three years kindly let him sell holiday trees on the small lot next to the stand for two percent of the take and it had worked out pretty well too; it seemed eating ice cream put a lot of people in a good mood to buy Christmas trees. There was a line even now at the stand though it was close to eight
Where was she? Did something happen? He looked at the cars coming toward him all passing by. A guy wearing a black down-filled coat and an orange hunting cap and eating two large scoops of what looked like to Gerald Rocky Road ice cream, walked over. Pointing to a balsam fir over seven feet tall, full from top to bottom and the silvery blue of a deep, clean lake asked, “How much is that one?”
“Its forty dollars,” Gerald glanced over the man’s shoulder at the passing cars.
The man looked at the tree, licked his ice cream, shrugged, “Its nice enough and a good size; I’ll take it.” He fished around in his coat pocket, told Gerald, “Hold this,” handed him the cone, took out a wad of bills and pulled off two twenties.
Gerald took the money and handed the guy back his ice cream. He cut a half-inch off the tree’s trunk, hauled it to the guy’s Ford pick-up and laid it carefully in the truck’s bed.
“Merry Christmas,” he called out to the guy just as Sherry’s red Corolla came off the ramp, down the street and pulled up beside him. Gerald felt the knots of fear in his stomach loosen a little at the sight of her.
She got quickly out the car looking at once beautiful, terrified and eager but mostly beautiful; they stared at each other, then met holding on to each other next to a set of decorative wreaths with red bows.
“I thought he wouldn’t let you get away.”
She stuck a strand of soft black hair underneath her cap, the plume of her cold breath smelled like fresh peppermint, “I didn’t think he’d buy my story but he didn’t give me any trouble this time; he usually has a fit if I got out without him.” The violet eyes in her slim face took hold of mines, “Do you have the money?”
“Cleaned out my bank account,” he said. I’ll never complain again about working day construction. You?”
She opened her purse, took out a white envelope and opened to the to the bills packed inside, “That’s everything. You think it’ll be enough to get us started?” Her glorious eyes looked again into mine and I nodded.
If we’d had ten dollars between us I would’ve still nodded; the money didn’t matter only that they were together and could get away together was his only concern and had been the first time he’d laid eyes on her; to have her, to make her his any way he had to.
“Have you sold a lot of trees?” she looked around.
“Not many, my mind hasn’t been on it tonight. You ready to go? There’s nothing else keeping us here is it?”
She shook her head and smiled, “I’m scared but ready. I love you.” She took his hand, “Can we have a last one to go?”
“Anything. I love you.”
They started for Romeo’s as her husband Jimmy came off the ramp, down the street in his green Cadillac STS, hitting a Fraser fir and tumbling it over to knock down six other firs before he stopped and jumped out of the car pointing a pistol at them; he was crying.
“I thought it was me you loved,” he waved the gun at them. The people buying ice cream had frozen as they stared at the three of them.
“Not anymore,” Sherry’s right hand went to my chest. “I’m Gerald’s now.”
“She loves me,” I said, “It can’t be helped, Jimmy.” My eyes went from his wet face to the gun, “There’s nothing you can do about it.”
Jimmy’s face sucked in as if he’d been forced fed a sack of lemons;, his eyes closing “You sure; that damn sure?” He pulled back the trigger.
Sherry and Gerald glanced at each other and nodded; their eyes only for each other. Jimmy opened his and saw it under the hanging Christmas tree lights and neon helter-skelter ice cream cone. He released the trigger, his arm sinking down from the weight of the gun and lost love. “I can’t leave here with nothing?” he said.
Sherry moved toward him, took the gun and tossed it into the front seat of the car, “How about an ice cream and a Christmas tree.”
The End
Send me a story if you want; the reading is almost as important as the writing.
If you have any comments or suggestions please e-mail me at my new address: shabazzl@adasbcc.org.
Until next time, God willing
Lori
Friday, August 15, 2008
Hello,
I’m writing my second Owen Story novel as you know; I’m finishing the first draft to move into the long—but not too long—rewrite process which is the REAL process. My first step though is not to pick up the pen and get to it, I have to organize first. I don’t mean create an outline so I know where I’m going; I already know this for the most part, I mean putting all my notes, my snatches of information, my short story lines, my scribbled passages all together in front of me like a person opening a large box of chocolates a la Forest Gump and choosing the ones that best fit the story, the novel.
When I’m collecting these pieces written down on the backs of store receipts, in one of the small notebooks I carry around or on a stickem, I of course don’t know exactly where they may fit; only that they might. So when I gather them I try and fit most into the books storyline like working a puzzle where sometimes the pieces are large and give you an idea of the picture you’re creating and at other times, small and are needed just to help the picture develop while some you don’t need.
I enjoy this part of working my book because I find once I’m here, the book is alive and all I’m there to do is keep it breathing and healthy by feeding it the right words and taking out the useless, unnecessary ones; keeping it moving by throwing in a fast paced storyline ; filling it with excitement and adventure and with characters you want to know and love. It’s a pleasure to get to this phase though I have a ways to go until I’m done, but the fact I have gotten there lets me know I have a story worth finishing, that I enjoy and look forward to adding to it until it’s the way I want it to be and hope the end result will be a novel loved not only by me but my readers too.
Keep writing your novels, movie scripts, short stories, poems, because you love it.
If you have any comments or suggestions please e-mail me at my new address: shabazzl@adasbcc.org.
Until next time, God willing,
Lori
I’m writing my second Owen Story novel as you know; I’m finishing the first draft to move into the long—but not too long—rewrite process which is the REAL process. My first step though is not to pick up the pen and get to it, I have to organize first. I don’t mean create an outline so I know where I’m going; I already know this for the most part, I mean putting all my notes, my snatches of information, my short story lines, my scribbled passages all together in front of me like a person opening a large box of chocolates a la Forest Gump and choosing the ones that best fit the story, the novel.
When I’m collecting these pieces written down on the backs of store receipts, in one of the small notebooks I carry around or on a stickem, I of course don’t know exactly where they may fit; only that they might. So when I gather them I try and fit most into the books storyline like working a puzzle where sometimes the pieces are large and give you an idea of the picture you’re creating and at other times, small and are needed just to help the picture develop while some you don’t need.
I enjoy this part of working my book because I find once I’m here, the book is alive and all I’m there to do is keep it breathing and healthy by feeding it the right words and taking out the useless, unnecessary ones; keeping it moving by throwing in a fast paced storyline ; filling it with excitement and adventure and with characters you want to know and love. It’s a pleasure to get to this phase though I have a ways to go until I’m done, but the fact I have gotten there lets me know I have a story worth finishing, that I enjoy and look forward to adding to it until it’s the way I want it to be and hope the end result will be a novel loved not only by me but my readers too.
Keep writing your novels, movie scripts, short stories, poems, because you love it.
If you have any comments or suggestions please e-mail me at my new address: shabazzl@adasbcc.org.
Until next time, God willing,
Lori
Friday, August 08, 2008
Hello,
As writers we write for our selves and for other reasons of course; from hoping for a successful career—whatever you define as success; a prolific career, able to write a book or two a year a la James Patterson or because you feel you have something really important to convey; the list is long. One of the reasons I write is because of my sons; they’re happy when they see my book in the world. The other day my son thought he saw a woman carrying it in a store and he told me about it, smiling all the time. I don’t believe she had my book yet was happy he thought someone was reading it. My sons help me defy that blank page because they see in the book, the results of working hard, not giving up and bypassing roadblocks to create something positive. I feel it helps them understand they can do what they choose to do and pursue their life goals no matter what they are and as long as it’s a good—a great—choice.
I write for my self but my sons help me keep at it and write better.
Keep writing.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
As writers we write for our selves and for other reasons of course; from hoping for a successful career—whatever you define as success; a prolific career, able to write a book or two a year a la James Patterson or because you feel you have something really important to convey; the list is long. One of the reasons I write is because of my sons; they’re happy when they see my book in the world. The other day my son thought he saw a woman carrying it in a store and he told me about it, smiling all the time. I don’t believe she had my book yet was happy he thought someone was reading it. My sons help me defy that blank page because they see in the book, the results of working hard, not giving up and bypassing roadblocks to create something positive. I feel it helps them understand they can do what they choose to do and pursue their life goals no matter what they are and as long as it’s a good—a great—choice.
I write for my self but my sons help me keep at it and write better.
Keep writing.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
Friday, August 01, 2008
Hello and Happy Friday,
I was reading the other day, an article about the writer Stephanie Meyer who wrote the popular novel, Twilight. The story was of course filled with all the great things happening to her: she’s the new J.K. Rowling, a terrific three book deal, an eagerly anticipated book tour and so many other wonderful details, I of course had a flash of envy, who wouldn’t? I mean she is where I want to be some day. I said-flash of envy-because I kind of got over it quickly because I thought, I’ll be where she is some day or close and I don’t doubt it. Why should I be so sure? I don’t know, because I feel it? Lame but true, yet more importantly I believe I’m working toward it though not in the usual way because I can’t; I don’t have an agent, or even a one-book-deal, I don’t have a huge audience anticipating my next novel (though a few people are; which is a great thing) I don’t have a tour scheduled; my best is a trip to New York to do a signing at the New York City Police Museum which has yet to be confirmed and I’m not a full time writer; I write when I can.
Boy, doesn’t it sound like I have reason to be envious and not so sure I’m going to get even close to where Ms. Meyer’s career has taken her. Yet, I do feel I’ll get close because despite all what I don’t have; I know—know—I have great story lines for my trilogy, a terrific character in Owen Story and I don’t stint on writing as well as I possibly can with relevant details and interesting, well-developed characters; making sure I give the reader the best possible story, one that rolls along at top speed, is exciting and not a waste of a minute of their time. I do what I can to promote my novels and try to do so every day and in all the ways available to me.
As writers and as people, we want a slice of the “good life”—the book tours, the newspaper and magazine articles, the book deals, which I’ve always defined as being a successful writer. But as time has gone by I’ve learned to define success, not by the trappings of the so called good life, but by working hard on my novel and getting it to the point I can breathe because I feel I’ve made it the best it can be, I’m done and can present it to the world pleased with it.
Just write, the rest will take care of itself.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
I was reading the other day, an article about the writer Stephanie Meyer who wrote the popular novel, Twilight. The story was of course filled with all the great things happening to her: she’s the new J.K. Rowling, a terrific three book deal, an eagerly anticipated book tour and so many other wonderful details, I of course had a flash of envy, who wouldn’t? I mean she is where I want to be some day. I said-flash of envy-because I kind of got over it quickly because I thought, I’ll be where she is some day or close and I don’t doubt it. Why should I be so sure? I don’t know, because I feel it? Lame but true, yet more importantly I believe I’m working toward it though not in the usual way because I can’t; I don’t have an agent, or even a one-book-deal, I don’t have a huge audience anticipating my next novel (though a few people are; which is a great thing) I don’t have a tour scheduled; my best is a trip to New York to do a signing at the New York City Police Museum which has yet to be confirmed and I’m not a full time writer; I write when I can.
Boy, doesn’t it sound like I have reason to be envious and not so sure I’m going to get even close to where Ms. Meyer’s career has taken her. Yet, I do feel I’ll get close because despite all what I don’t have; I know—know—I have great story lines for my trilogy, a terrific character in Owen Story and I don’t stint on writing as well as I possibly can with relevant details and interesting, well-developed characters; making sure I give the reader the best possible story, one that rolls along at top speed, is exciting and not a waste of a minute of their time. I do what I can to promote my novels and try to do so every day and in all the ways available to me.
As writers and as people, we want a slice of the “good life”—the book tours, the newspaper and magazine articles, the book deals, which I’ve always defined as being a successful writer. But as time has gone by I’ve learned to define success, not by the trappings of the so called good life, but by working hard on my novel and getting it to the point I can breathe because I feel I’ve made it the best it can be, I’m done and can present it to the world pleased with it.
Just write, the rest will take care of itself.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Hi,
I told you how much I enjoyed my editing class; I’m using a few of the techniques she taught. Anyway, one of the things she mentioned is that how she had to learn to break some of the rules of writing that were ground into her from childhood, for example: a comma should be used before a conjunction introducing an independent clause—those long winded rules. We adhere to that rule because its ground into us as well, but for some writers they know and incorporate the rules so well, have done it all their writing career that they know how to superbly break them to give us knew and wonderful stories. My best example of who does this so well is Cormac Mccarthy; he breaks rules into splinters and takes your breath away. He can do this so effortlessly because of a few things: his writing skill, deep knowledge of the world and the people he writes about and because he’s fearless at the challenge and doesn’t care if we like it or not, he writes for himself.
Will I ever get to the point to be able to write so well or to be so fearless at it? Honestly, I don’t think so but I don’t toss it out but see is as a possible goal along with my other writing goals: doing it well and loving it.
Enjoy what you’re writing even when you sometimes can’t enjoy the writing.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
I told you how much I enjoyed my editing class; I’m using a few of the techniques she taught. Anyway, one of the things she mentioned is that how she had to learn to break some of the rules of writing that were ground into her from childhood, for example: a comma should be used before a conjunction introducing an independent clause—those long winded rules. We adhere to that rule because its ground into us as well, but for some writers they know and incorporate the rules so well, have done it all their writing career that they know how to superbly break them to give us knew and wonderful stories. My best example of who does this so well is Cormac Mccarthy; he breaks rules into splinters and takes your breath away. He can do this so effortlessly because of a few things: his writing skill, deep knowledge of the world and the people he writes about and because he’s fearless at the challenge and doesn’t care if we like it or not, he writes for himself.
Will I ever get to the point to be able to write so well or to be so fearless at it? Honestly, I don’t think so but I don’t toss it out but see is as a possible goal along with my other writing goals: doing it well and loving it.
Enjoy what you’re writing even when you sometimes can’t enjoy the writing.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Hello,
It’s funny how writers are always trying to improve their writing—at least I do—and by all means at my disposal. I believe I do it out of part fear I don’t know enough as a writer and I’m missing something and part I can always—always do better for my sake and most importantly for my readers. I took an editing class at my local university yesterday and it was good, I learned a number of useful tools and I’m grateful for it because they will help improve my writing no doubt. I have an issue with my editing prowess anyway, I’m not good at it and the chance to improve is welcome.
As we all know, it’s a long-winding-improving road for a writer, no matter how long his career, the object is to get better each novel and along with courage and hard-work it takes knowledge to do so and l take advantage of this fact. The professor is teaching a grammar class and I will be taking it, a brush up now and again is a plus, every little bit helps and I will take advantage of every opportunity that presents itself to make my stories, my novels better and better.
Grab a book like The Everyday Writer by Andrea Lunsford, I’d bet you pick up something that’ll help your writing.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
It’s funny how writers are always trying to improve their writing—at least I do—and by all means at my disposal. I believe I do it out of part fear I don’t know enough as a writer and I’m missing something and part I can always—always do better for my sake and most importantly for my readers. I took an editing class at my local university yesterday and it was good, I learned a number of useful tools and I’m grateful for it because they will help improve my writing no doubt. I have an issue with my editing prowess anyway, I’m not good at it and the chance to improve is welcome.
As we all know, it’s a long-winding-improving road for a writer, no matter how long his career, the object is to get better each novel and along with courage and hard-work it takes knowledge to do so and l take advantage of this fact. The professor is teaching a grammar class and I will be taking it, a brush up now and again is a plus, every little bit helps and I will take advantage of every opportunity that presents itself to make my stories, my novels better and better.
Grab a book like The Everyday Writer by Andrea Lunsford, I’d bet you pick up something that’ll help your writing.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Hello and Happy Friday,
Working on the second book, a lot of reading and research; yet doing it no matter what—with a little writing thrown it--and its going well because its part of the writing process isn’t it? A large cog in the machinery of writing. I’m reading about the Iranian revolution and about the CIA; and a piece of the story I was missing for the second novel—how to work out how Owen comes by an important piece of information central to the story—presents itself, the answer I needed to keep the story rolling and it made my day.
I’m not the kind of writer who can plot my novel step-by-step before the writing, who knows what happens before it happens; I of course have an idea of the plot of the story, how it should go, it’s the how to get there that’s my mystery… until I start to read, research, write and think.
Writing is involved, tedious, time consuming, but such a joy and a wonder, I love it and can’t imagine doing anything else. So you write too, it’s worth it everyday.
Write,
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
Working on the second book, a lot of reading and research; yet doing it no matter what—with a little writing thrown it--and its going well because its part of the writing process isn’t it? A large cog in the machinery of writing. I’m reading about the Iranian revolution and about the CIA; and a piece of the story I was missing for the second novel—how to work out how Owen comes by an important piece of information central to the story—presents itself, the answer I needed to keep the story rolling and it made my day.
I’m not the kind of writer who can plot my novel step-by-step before the writing, who knows what happens before it happens; I of course have an idea of the plot of the story, how it should go, it’s the how to get there that’s my mystery… until I start to read, research, write and think.
Writing is involved, tedious, time consuming, but such a joy and a wonder, I love it and can’t imagine doing anything else. So you write too, it’s worth it everyday.
Write,
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Hello and Happy July 4th to all who celebrate,
Writing is such a funny thing, you never realize until you think about it how important it is, how much you do it and the big difference it makes to your life if you do it right. I’m popular at my kids school, why? It’s not because I’m the president of the PTA—I’m not--but because I write great e-mails and notes to their teachers in my request for information about my sons or to thank them for what they do for my children. I make sure to put my best words in there to convey I believe them to be great for my children and taught them well and it’s easier for me to write than to do the face to face; I believe my writing helped me have a better relationship with them and helped my children have a good one with them too.
Today I needed a lawyer, to ask some questions and provide some information but instead of talking to him, I wrote a letter instead, well an e-mail as an introduction and to pass along some details. I did the writing because I knew I wouldn’t be able to get my point across, the facts, exactly the way I needed to if I had to speak with him off the cuff, so writing was what I did and it worked. In my note my information was succinct and clear and received the response I needed; verbally, I couldn't of gotten my point across nearly as well as I can using a pen and a piece of paper.
Writing smooths my life out more than I could imagine and that's a tremendous blessing.
Write well and all the time,
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
Writing is such a funny thing, you never realize until you think about it how important it is, how much you do it and the big difference it makes to your life if you do it right. I’m popular at my kids school, why? It’s not because I’m the president of the PTA—I’m not--but because I write great e-mails and notes to their teachers in my request for information about my sons or to thank them for what they do for my children. I make sure to put my best words in there to convey I believe them to be great for my children and taught them well and it’s easier for me to write than to do the face to face; I believe my writing helped me have a better relationship with them and helped my children have a good one with them too.
Today I needed a lawyer, to ask some questions and provide some information but instead of talking to him, I wrote a letter instead, well an e-mail as an introduction and to pass along some details. I did the writing because I knew I wouldn’t be able to get my point across, the facts, exactly the way I needed to if I had to speak with him off the cuff, so writing was what I did and it worked. In my note my information was succinct and clear and received the response I needed; verbally, I couldn't of gotten my point across nearly as well as I can using a pen and a piece of paper.
Writing smooths my life out more than I could imagine and that's a tremendous blessing.
Write well and all the time,
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Hello, hitting you Wednesday instead of Friday,
How much do you know about book publishing? I don’t know much I admit and there seems so much information out there especially for self-publishers though some of it does repeat itself. I just learned today what to do with the foreign rights of your novel and releasing those rights to publishers around the world and how to do it.
It would be great to have one definitive book that would tell you everything you should know; the best direction you should take for your novel—stop dreaming right; there is no such thing. It’s like your being the only one who has to find the light switch in an unfamiliar ball room in the encompassing dark: you have to do it by yourself, you have to keep trying, getting around the obstacles the best way you can, working at it hit or miss until you find the best ways to work your book or turn on the light.
Write,
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
How much do you know about book publishing? I don’t know much I admit and there seems so much information out there especially for self-publishers though some of it does repeat itself. I just learned today what to do with the foreign rights of your novel and releasing those rights to publishers around the world and how to do it.
It would be great to have one definitive book that would tell you everything you should know; the best direction you should take for your novel—stop dreaming right; there is no such thing. It’s like your being the only one who has to find the light switch in an unfamiliar ball room in the encompassing dark: you have to do it by yourself, you have to keep trying, getting around the obstacles the best way you can, working at it hit or miss until you find the best ways to work your book or turn on the light.
Write,
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Hello and hope you’re doing well,
A few minutes ago I got a phone call from someone who read You Don’t Know Me and she let me know she really enjoyed it and gave it to her friend who enjoyed it as well and asked when the next would come out; her phone call I can tell you, made my week and it does help with the writing.
I’m writing and listening to books on tape, the book is The Terror by Dan Simmons, very, very good and its twenty-two disks, yet I've listened to each one and I’m now re-listening to the first disks to put in context everything I’ve read—listened to. One of the interesting things about the novel is its serious detail. The Terror is the fictional story of a ship called The Terror who in 1845 as part of the Franklin Expedition, gets stuck in the Arctic Circle which is bad enough but added to this misery the crew and those of its sister ship are being slaughtered by a beast. The novel is filled with details about how the ship works and looks, how a working ship faces ice, how the ship is piloted and so on, all interesting because the writer doesn’t pommel you with the details yet its full of them, even minute ones.
Details in a novel are necessary and tricky for any writer I believe, no matter how much experience you have; if you put in too much you over shadow the story and if you don’t enter the detail just right the story becomes boring and too tedious to plow through; if you don’t put in enough the story doesn’t sound real enough or reads amateurish, so the key is to put in just enough, the right kind, to make sure the story is solid so the details run so seamlessly through it the reader doesn’t notice and if they do its complimentary; so like I said, detailing a story is a tricky business. For me to get around this “trickiness” I read some of my favorite writers and I've found that though they detail very well, they sacrifice most of it for great story and I work on doing the same.
Write and keep at it,
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
A few minutes ago I got a phone call from someone who read You Don’t Know Me and she let me know she really enjoyed it and gave it to her friend who enjoyed it as well and asked when the next would come out; her phone call I can tell you, made my week and it does help with the writing.
I’m writing and listening to books on tape, the book is The Terror by Dan Simmons, very, very good and its twenty-two disks, yet I've listened to each one and I’m now re-listening to the first disks to put in context everything I’ve read—listened to. One of the interesting things about the novel is its serious detail. The Terror is the fictional story of a ship called The Terror who in 1845 as part of the Franklin Expedition, gets stuck in the Arctic Circle which is bad enough but added to this misery the crew and those of its sister ship are being slaughtered by a beast. The novel is filled with details about how the ship works and looks, how a working ship faces ice, how the ship is piloted and so on, all interesting because the writer doesn’t pommel you with the details yet its full of them, even minute ones.
Details in a novel are necessary and tricky for any writer I believe, no matter how much experience you have; if you put in too much you over shadow the story and if you don’t enter the detail just right the story becomes boring and too tedious to plow through; if you don’t put in enough the story doesn’t sound real enough or reads amateurish, so the key is to put in just enough, the right kind, to make sure the story is solid so the details run so seamlessly through it the reader doesn’t notice and if they do its complimentary; so like I said, detailing a story is a tricky business. For me to get around this “trickiness” I read some of my favorite writers and I've found that though they detail very well, they sacrifice most of it for great story and I work on doing the same.
Write and keep at it,
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Hello and Happy Friday to you,
Do you do all you have to do for your writing or to get it recognized? It could be a lot of work involved when you’re already writing all and when you can. I’m talking about submitting your work to relevant contests, applying for artistic grants, sending out press kits and information to get your work known, talking to people about your novel, holding book signings—a host of things to get people talking about your book and characters; it’s a job in itself. I try to promote my book a little each day in some form, today I’m sending a copy out to my brother-in-law, a soldier in the United States Army stationed in Afghanistan, he requested a signed book so along with it I’m also sending post cards I hope he'll give to his fellow soldiers who will want to read the book; I’m offering a free copy to anyone of them along with the free download available at Lulu.com. My local newspaper, The Plain Dealer, is doing an occasional story on local artists, writers and their Muse, I submitted an e-mail offering the story of my novel and Muse and also had friends submit for me, I’m hoping my story is chosen, it would be great publicity for the book.
Whether any of my efforts pan out who knows, yet I keep trying to get the word out every day, it's part of this book thing and the fact you want to give your novel and characters every chance to be heard. Yet, what really makes all your efforts worth while is the knowledge you do have a book out there you love and feel is worth promoting no matter what you have to do and while you’re doing all this; you’re writing the next.
Write always and always keep the faith,
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
Do you do all you have to do for your writing or to get it recognized? It could be a lot of work involved when you’re already writing all and when you can. I’m talking about submitting your work to relevant contests, applying for artistic grants, sending out press kits and information to get your work known, talking to people about your novel, holding book signings—a host of things to get people talking about your book and characters; it’s a job in itself. I try to promote my book a little each day in some form, today I’m sending a copy out to my brother-in-law, a soldier in the United States Army stationed in Afghanistan, he requested a signed book so along with it I’m also sending post cards I hope he'll give to his fellow soldiers who will want to read the book; I’m offering a free copy to anyone of them along with the free download available at Lulu.com. My local newspaper, The Plain Dealer, is doing an occasional story on local artists, writers and their Muse, I submitted an e-mail offering the story of my novel and Muse and also had friends submit for me, I’m hoping my story is chosen, it would be great publicity for the book.
Whether any of my efforts pan out who knows, yet I keep trying to get the word out every day, it's part of this book thing and the fact you want to give your novel and characters every chance to be heard. Yet, what really makes all your efforts worth while is the knowledge you do have a book out there you love and feel is worth promoting no matter what you have to do and while you’re doing all this; you’re writing the next.
Write always and always keep the faith,
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Hello, it’s Thursday instead of Friday, like you didn’t know it,
I have solicited—doesn’t that sound awful though funny--another book review from a reviewer on Amazon.com for You Don’t Know Me. Shouldn’t I be done with getting book reviews or recommendations for that novel? I would like to say yes, but I know I never will. The one thing I’ve found about having a book in the world, you’re always building it up, getting it a stellar c.v. and will do it for the rest of your life and especially for it’s immediate future because you want millions to read it and to get them to do so, others have to have read it and pronounced it good—or bad; I’ve heard a bad review isn’t sometimes bad—prompting others to want to check it out.
I of course want a good review to add to the one I have from Mr. Lecard because as we all know, a good review is just that and I believe it does help. You have to go after them and as self-published writers; we have to go after them much harder than someone who published traditionally because self-published doesn’t have an entire publishing house helping and backing their work which is not at all a bad thing; working hard gets the writing done to your own satisfaction and you have to work just as hard on all other aspects of having a self-published novel out because for the most part; it’s you and you alone driving it toward success.
Are you reading anything while you’re writing? I just picked up a historical novel titled The Terror by Dan Simmons and it’s not bad, rather good; interesting details mixed with an intriguing storyline.
I love writing; you probably got that by now.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
I have solicited—doesn’t that sound awful though funny--another book review from a reviewer on Amazon.com for You Don’t Know Me. Shouldn’t I be done with getting book reviews or recommendations for that novel? I would like to say yes, but I know I never will. The one thing I’ve found about having a book in the world, you’re always building it up, getting it a stellar c.v. and will do it for the rest of your life and especially for it’s immediate future because you want millions to read it and to get them to do so, others have to have read it and pronounced it good—or bad; I’ve heard a bad review isn’t sometimes bad—prompting others to want to check it out.
I of course want a good review to add to the one I have from Mr. Lecard because as we all know, a good review is just that and I believe it does help. You have to go after them and as self-published writers; we have to go after them much harder than someone who published traditionally because self-published doesn’t have an entire publishing house helping and backing their work which is not at all a bad thing; working hard gets the writing done to your own satisfaction and you have to work just as hard on all other aspects of having a self-published novel out because for the most part; it’s you and you alone driving it toward success.
Are you reading anything while you’re writing? I just picked up a historical novel titled The Terror by Dan Simmons and it’s not bad, rather good; interesting details mixed with an intriguing storyline.
I love writing; you probably got that by now.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Hello,
It’s a busy Friday as usual but I wanted to get my blog out; it’s important to me to be as consistent as possible on getting it out each week. Consistency is important to me and especially in my writing life. Now, that the book is out I have been told “you published a book, that’s great” or “you should be so proud to have a book out”. I’m thankful for all my well wishes but I think every time, “…a book or the book”, one book, my goal is five, ten or fifteen books though it has to start at one but oh, I can’t wait to get past “the one” and have two, three, etc out in the world; this I have to consistently work on day-by-day, it’s the only way and it will accept no less from myself. I’m working on the second novel and getting it done--I have to--prolific I don’t believe I’ll be, yet steady, CONSISTENT, and putting out my best work in the world yearly, I’ll do it because it makes me happy and it’s a blessing to do it and I’m glad to be so blessed.
Write always.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
It’s a busy Friday as usual but I wanted to get my blog out; it’s important to me to be as consistent as possible on getting it out each week. Consistency is important to me and especially in my writing life. Now, that the book is out I have been told “you published a book, that’s great” or “you should be so proud to have a book out”. I’m thankful for all my well wishes but I think every time, “…a book or the book”, one book, my goal is five, ten or fifteen books though it has to start at one but oh, I can’t wait to get past “the one” and have two, three, etc out in the world; this I have to consistently work on day-by-day, it’s the only way and it will accept no less from myself. I’m working on the second novel and getting it done--I have to--prolific I don’t believe I’ll be, yet steady, CONSISTENT, and putting out my best work in the world yearly, I’ll do it because it makes me happy and it’s a blessing to do it and I’m glad to be so blessed.
Write always.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Hello and I hope you have a fun weekend,
For a number of people—me included—this will be a holiday with time off, but for me it doesn’t mean I will not write, I hope to write more because I’ll have a little extra time to do so though it's so easy to procrastinate at writing isn't it? I know you understand; sometimes it’s as easy as breathing. I can come up with a thousand chores, excuses and reasons not to write even when the time is there, yet it’s takes a huge effort on my part to sit down in front of the blank page--even a half-filled page—and do it.
Fear, is the reason I mostly procrastinate and why fear? Of not getting my ideas across, of writing too slowly, of not knowing what I’m writing about and other issues that are not true issues just my imagination coming up with any kind of reason not to write. Though in the end, none of it matters because I do manage to overcome procrastination; move my mountain of excuses aside and write, its not easy and sometimes I have to grit my teeth to do it but I do it for a number of reasons: I can’t help myself, I love to write; the story has to be told and I need to tell it and my writing is one of the ways I define myself and to not do it is not an option. I’ll be writing during my holiday and deep, deep down, enjoying it immensely; you do the same.
Keep writing and see you next week.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
For a number of people—me included—this will be a holiday with time off, but for me it doesn’t mean I will not write, I hope to write more because I’ll have a little extra time to do so though it's so easy to procrastinate at writing isn't it? I know you understand; sometimes it’s as easy as breathing. I can come up with a thousand chores, excuses and reasons not to write even when the time is there, yet it’s takes a huge effort on my part to sit down in front of the blank page--even a half-filled page—and do it.
Fear, is the reason I mostly procrastinate and why fear? Of not getting my ideas across, of writing too slowly, of not knowing what I’m writing about and other issues that are not true issues just my imagination coming up with any kind of reason not to write. Though in the end, none of it matters because I do manage to overcome procrastination; move my mountain of excuses aside and write, its not easy and sometimes I have to grit my teeth to do it but I do it for a number of reasons: I can’t help myself, I love to write; the story has to be told and I need to tell it and my writing is one of the ways I define myself and to not do it is not an option. I’ll be writing during my holiday and deep, deep down, enjoying it immensely; you do the same.
Keep writing and see you next week.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
***************************************************************************************************
Excerpt from
Begin at the End
The Second in the Owen Story Trilogy
Chapter 1
It was a beautiful New York City day for the Eighty-First Annual Macy’s Day Thanksgiving Parade, an event that had become a tradition for people around the world. The temperature was a balmy thirty-five degrees, the sky a clear winter wash blue with a touch of sun. All along the route from Seventy-Seventh Street to Seventh Avenue people dressed in their winter warms laughed and shouted as they enjoyed the sheer camaraderie of watching a parade.
The crowd hadn’t really come to see the B list celebrity entertainers, the spunky dance numbers, the high school marching bands or even the spectacular floats that sailed overhead, they’d come as strangers to stand together in the cold early morning light to catch a glimpse of the true star of the show; the man who’s recognized as the ultimate ubiquitous symbol of commercial getting and giving, the one and only Santa Claus who’s arrival would not only signify the end of this year’s parade but the official beginning of the race to the finish line of the holiday shopping season.
Thousands watched the show on the street while millions watched it from their homes in front of their television sets or on their computer screens while they listened to the mildly interesting commentary tossed off by the NBC hosts Meredith Viera and Matt Lauer who, in their warm enclosed booth at Herald Square were trying valiantly to ratchet up the excitement for the arrival of the main attraction.
“We’ve been so lucky the promised rain has held off,” said Ms. Vieira who smiled with perfect teeth at the viewers. “An icy cold shower would’ve just ruined the parade.”
“Yes, we’ve been lucky so far and luckier still because this is the largest crowd since ninety-seventy-five so there’s hundreds of officers out there to keep everyone safe; a phenomenal effort,” said Mr. Lauer who flashed his own set of capped pearly whites to the world. “But I predict no matter what happens no one would miss the arrival of the man himself.”
“Folks, here he comes approaching Herald Square. Oh, my goodness doesn’t he look wonderful,” Ms. Vieira bounced in her seat. “He looks exactly like the jolly happy Santa I remember from my childhood.”
“He’s just stopped in front of the decorated windows of Macy’s department store officially ending the parade folks,” added Mr. Lauer. “The red nose, the red plush coat fronted by white fur—”
“I hope that’s not real fur?” Ms. Vieira cut in her smile losing a couple of wattages as her eyes narrowed on Father Christmas.
“If it is, he’s not going to be sliding down any PETA chimneys this year,” answered her co-host with a plastic chuckle.
Television screens all over the world were presented with the real time image of a huge red Christmas sleigh filled with wrapped presents and seated among the bounty children of all ages waving at the crowd. High above them on a throne sat Santa Claus, with one hand he held on to white reigns attached to imaginary flying reindeer while he waved with the other. The crowd shouted and waved back as if he were the Second Coming.
He was dressed in the traditional Santa suit complete with jaunty red hat, wide black belt with large gold buckle and black knee-high boots but what hit home to all the viewers in television land as well as those gazing at him from the streets was that he did look like everyone’s ideal fairy-tale image of Father Christmas, a white man with a long white beard, rosy cheeks, a round fleshiness to his stout body and wearing a smile of what looked like innocent joy.
He stood atop the magnificent sleigh handing down packages to eager hands. As he picked up a gold wrapped present and straightened, his grin suddenly broke and disappeared. The package dropped from his fingers as the fur lining the front of his coat went from cloud white to crimson red to match the rest of his suit. He fell back onto the throne, shocked surprise on his face as the huge shouting laughing crowd around him went silent.
“What was that?” Mr. Lauer’s alarmed voice came over as the image of the slumped Santa was frozen to screens. “What happened? Anyone see what happened?”
“You see that?” Ms. Vieira’s voice was heard loud and afraid.
Before the stunned world-wide audience Santa lay slumped until the top of the throne and his head disintegrated in blood and wood that sent him over the side of the sleigh.
“Gun,” someone yelled.
Pandemonium in the streets.
Excerpt from
Begin at the End
The Second in the Owen Story Trilogy
Chapter 1
It was a beautiful New York City day for the Eighty-First Annual Macy’s Day Thanksgiving Parade, an event that had become a tradition for people around the world. The temperature was a balmy thirty-five degrees, the sky a clear winter wash blue with a touch of sun. All along the route from Seventy-Seventh Street to Seventh Avenue people dressed in their winter warms laughed and shouted as they enjoyed the sheer camaraderie of watching a parade.
The crowd hadn’t really come to see the B list celebrity entertainers, the spunky dance numbers, the high school marching bands or even the spectacular floats that sailed overhead, they’d come as strangers to stand together in the cold early morning light to catch a glimpse of the true star of the show; the man who’s recognized as the ultimate ubiquitous symbol of commercial getting and giving, the one and only Santa Claus who’s arrival would not only signify the end of this year’s parade but the official beginning of the race to the finish line of the holiday shopping season.
Thousands watched the show on the street while millions watched it from their homes in front of their television sets or on their computer screens while they listened to the mildly interesting commentary tossed off by the NBC hosts Meredith Viera and Matt Lauer who, in their warm enclosed booth at Herald Square were trying valiantly to ratchet up the excitement for the arrival of the main attraction.
“We’ve been so lucky the promised rain has held off,” said Ms. Vieira who smiled with perfect teeth at the viewers. “An icy cold shower would’ve just ruined the parade.”
“Yes, we’ve been lucky so far and luckier still because this is the largest crowd since ninety-seventy-five so there’s hundreds of officers out there to keep everyone safe; a phenomenal effort,” said Mr. Lauer who flashed his own set of capped pearly whites to the world. “But I predict no matter what happens no one would miss the arrival of the man himself.”
“Folks, here he comes approaching Herald Square. Oh, my goodness doesn’t he look wonderful,” Ms. Vieira bounced in her seat. “He looks exactly like the jolly happy Santa I remember from my childhood.”
“He’s just stopped in front of the decorated windows of Macy’s department store officially ending the parade folks,” added Mr. Lauer. “The red nose, the red plush coat fronted by white fur—”
“I hope that’s not real fur?” Ms. Vieira cut in her smile losing a couple of wattages as her eyes narrowed on Father Christmas.
“If it is, he’s not going to be sliding down any PETA chimneys this year,” answered her co-host with a plastic chuckle.
Television screens all over the world were presented with the real time image of a huge red Christmas sleigh filled with wrapped presents and seated among the bounty children of all ages waving at the crowd. High above them on a throne sat Santa Claus, with one hand he held on to white reigns attached to imaginary flying reindeer while he waved with the other. The crowd shouted and waved back as if he were the Second Coming.
He was dressed in the traditional Santa suit complete with jaunty red hat, wide black belt with large gold buckle and black knee-high boots but what hit home to all the viewers in television land as well as those gazing at him from the streets was that he did look like everyone’s ideal fairy-tale image of Father Christmas, a white man with a long white beard, rosy cheeks, a round fleshiness to his stout body and wearing a smile of what looked like innocent joy.
He stood atop the magnificent sleigh handing down packages to eager hands. As he picked up a gold wrapped present and straightened, his grin suddenly broke and disappeared. The package dropped from his fingers as the fur lining the front of his coat went from cloud white to crimson red to match the rest of his suit. He fell back onto the throne, shocked surprise on his face as the huge shouting laughing crowd around him went silent.
“What was that?” Mr. Lauer’s alarmed voice came over as the image of the slumped Santa was frozen to screens. “What happened? Anyone see what happened?”
“You see that?” Ms. Vieira’s voice was heard loud and afraid.
Before the stunned world-wide audience Santa lay slumped until the top of the throne and his head disintegrated in blood and wood that sent him over the side of the sleigh.
“Gun,” someone yelled.
Pandemonium in the streets.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Hello and early post,
I had my first book signing last Saturday at my local Barnes and Noble and though I worked myself up to a fit of nervousness, I have to tell you it was all for nothing, it turned out to be one of the best experiences of my life, I had Fun with a capital: F-U-N.
Why was it fun and not as traumatic as I knew it would be? It wasn’t because of me, I was still nervous, a few minutes late and forgot my cards and handouts, what made all this not important, was the folks who showed up to support me and the novel; friends I hadn’t seen in years, new friends, folks who had heard about the novel or seen me on the television interview, folks I work with—it was wonderful to see everyone and to have their good wishes. I sold books in between —always a plus right—but having such fun and enjoying my first book signing with good vibes all around was a revelation and I hope it’s the template for my future book signings. I have to make sure of it; that they are a great experience not just for me but for those who make the time to come and buy my novel, it’s the least I can do and it would be a thank you to them for their faith in my work which I hope they read and enjoy.
Talk to you soon and keep on writing.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
I had my first book signing last Saturday at my local Barnes and Noble and though I worked myself up to a fit of nervousness, I have to tell you it was all for nothing, it turned out to be one of the best experiences of my life, I had Fun with a capital: F-U-N.
Why was it fun and not as traumatic as I knew it would be? It wasn’t because of me, I was still nervous, a few minutes late and forgot my cards and handouts, what made all this not important, was the folks who showed up to support me and the novel; friends I hadn’t seen in years, new friends, folks who had heard about the novel or seen me on the television interview, folks I work with—it was wonderful to see everyone and to have their good wishes. I sold books in between —always a plus right—but having such fun and enjoying my first book signing with good vibes all around was a revelation and I hope it’s the template for my future book signings. I have to make sure of it; that they are a great experience not just for me but for those who make the time to come and buy my novel, it’s the least I can do and it would be a thank you to them for their faith in my work which I hope they read and enjoy.
Talk to you soon and keep on writing.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
Friday, May 09, 2008
Hello and Happy Friday,
I told you at our last visit I was reading the novel No Country for Old Men by Cormac Mccarthy http://www.cormacmccarthy.com/s, it’s a terrific tale and I mean tale in the sense of the spell binding, long lost lore telling fashion that has kept generations of writers w—I believe Mr. Cormac is a master of story telling because he is only spare on the not-necessaries: over punctuation, he doesn’t use quotations around characters words, he just lets them speak; character description, Mr. Cormac lets the characters paint the pictures of themselves in your mind by what they say and how they say it, so each one stands out and you know which one you’re reading about immediately. And his description of the world, the land, these folks are from and live in, you not only read about it but its as if you feel it, smell it; the cold river Llewelyn jumps into to save his life, the water stinging his bullet wounds or feel yourself reaching for the mountains the sheriff looks toward that seem a million miles away as they stand in silent judgment of you and all before—finding us wanting in every way--as he ponders what kind of human monsters he’s up against.
Mr. Cormac takes liberty with structure, he has earned the right to do so, he’s brave to do and it works beautifully and he does it for story alone which is a gift. He is a storyteller in its most meaningful term and its few like him still around to our detriment. There is such much to think about, love and rejoice in when reading a novel like No Country for Old Men and it helps me with my writing in the sense, I want to reach my special place in writing where story is king, a handsome, kind, sad and riveting king, but king nevertheless; Mr. Cormac has reached his special place.
Talk to you soon.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
I told you at our last visit I was reading the novel No Country for Old Men by Cormac Mccarthy http://www.cormacmccarthy.com/s, it’s a terrific tale and I mean tale in the sense of the spell binding, long lost lore telling fashion that has kept generations of writers w—I believe Mr. Cormac is a master of story telling because he is only spare on the not-necessaries: over punctuation, he doesn’t use quotations around characters words, he just lets them speak; character description, Mr. Cormac lets the characters paint the pictures of themselves in your mind by what they say and how they say it, so each one stands out and you know which one you’re reading about immediately. And his description of the world, the land, these folks are from and live in, you not only read about it but its as if you feel it, smell it; the cold river Llewelyn jumps into to save his life, the water stinging his bullet wounds or feel yourself reaching for the mountains the sheriff looks toward that seem a million miles away as they stand in silent judgment of you and all before—finding us wanting in every way--as he ponders what kind of human monsters he’s up against.
Mr. Cormac takes liberty with structure, he has earned the right to do so, he’s brave to do and it works beautifully and he does it for story alone which is a gift. He is a storyteller in its most meaningful term and its few like him still around to our detriment. There is such much to think about, love and rejoice in when reading a novel like No Country for Old Men and it helps me with my writing in the sense, I want to reach my special place in writing where story is king, a handsome, kind, sad and riveting king, but king nevertheless; Mr. Cormac has reached his special place.
Talk to you soon.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
Until next time, God willing.
Friday, May 02, 2008
Hello,
Remember when I told you I was reading non-fiction as well as fiction? I'm still doing so but I've halted my non-fiction reading for a day or two because I've been overtaken by a fiction work I just cannot put down, it's No Country For Old Men by Cormac Mccarthy. I know the movie has been out for a long while, but I just happened to pick up the book and fell right into it. In this novel do I find no truer term than "the book is always better than the movie". The novel is outstanding and I'll tell you why next week.
If you have any comments or suggestions, please e-mail me at: matwrite1@hotmail. com. I’ll love to hear from you.
Until next time, God willing,
Lori
Remember when I told you I was reading non-fiction as well as fiction? I'm still doing so but I've halted my non-fiction reading for a day or two because I've been overtaken by a fiction work I just cannot put down, it's No Country For Old Men by Cormac Mccarthy. I know the movie has been out for a long while, but I just happened to pick up the book and fell right into it. In this novel do I find no truer term than "the book is always better than the movie". The novel is outstanding and I'll tell you why next week.
If you have any comments or suggestions, please e-mail me at: matwrite1@hotmail. com. I’ll love to hear from you.
Until next time, God willing,
Lori
Friday, April 25, 2008
Hello and Happy Friday--again,
I’m writing—I have to—but I’m also doing a lot of reading and not just fiction, non-fiction as well, and it’s wonderful. I usually don’t read much non-fiction because I believed (or once believed) most especially the scientific works would be above my head—too intellectual—or worst; boring. But I’ve found it not to be true by seeking out books I find deeply interesting and are written on a level that’s down to earth and understandable and if a good story is throw in them I’m sold.
For example, I read this great book titled: Superthief: A Master Burglar, the Mafia and the Biggest Bank Heist in US History. Now, with a title like that I couldn’t keep away from it and I found to my delight it was a terrific narrative for a number of reasons, one; it was written with Phil Christopher, the main character of the story telling about his life in his own words, the author of the novel, Rick Porello, jumped in now and again but he let Mr. Christopher tell his own tale and it made for easy and enticing reading learning about Mr. Christopher and his criminal adventures. Two, Mr. Christopher was from my hometown and named many places I knew which kept me turning the pages because of the familiarity as if he were a neighbor--a crooked neighbor--but a neighbor just telling me his story, an absolute great read.
Another title: Satan’s Circus: Murder, Vice, Police Corruption and New York’s Trial of the Century, it sounds so great I hope it lives up to my expectations. Bottom line, it’s all non-fiction and what it has in common that makes me so eager to read them is that the topic of each novel is intriguing, they are written in a concise and not overwhelming manner and are about topics I find interesting,this combination makes me look forward to devouring the next and the next knowing I’ll learn in the bargain as well as be delighted by the larger than life stories.
Talk to you soon and keep on writing.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
I’m writing—I have to—but I’m also doing a lot of reading and not just fiction, non-fiction as well, and it’s wonderful. I usually don’t read much non-fiction because I believed (or once believed) most especially the scientific works would be above my head—too intellectual—or worst; boring. But I’ve found it not to be true by seeking out books I find deeply interesting and are written on a level that’s down to earth and understandable and if a good story is throw in them I’m sold.
For example, I read this great book titled: Superthief: A Master Burglar, the Mafia and the Biggest Bank Heist in US History. Now, with a title like that I couldn’t keep away from it and I found to my delight it was a terrific narrative for a number of reasons, one; it was written with Phil Christopher, the main character of the story telling about his life in his own words, the author of the novel, Rick Porello, jumped in now and again but he let Mr. Christopher tell his own tale and it made for easy and enticing reading learning about Mr. Christopher and his criminal adventures. Two, Mr. Christopher was from my hometown and named many places I knew which kept me turning the pages because of the familiarity as if he were a neighbor--a crooked neighbor--but a neighbor just telling me his story, an absolute great read.
Another title: Satan’s Circus: Murder, Vice, Police Corruption and New York’s Trial of the Century, it sounds so great I hope it lives up to my expectations. Bottom line, it’s all non-fiction and what it has in common that makes me so eager to read them is that the topic of each novel is intriguing, they are written in a concise and not overwhelming manner and are about topics I find interesting,this combination makes me look forward to devouring the next and the next knowing I’ll learn in the bargain as well as be delighted by the larger than life stories.
Talk to you soon and keep on writing.
If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com
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