Free The Tiger

I heard a story recently about a Siberian Tiger that had been kept in captivity for a very long time.  He was found in horrible conditions and allowed to roam free in an enclosed, protected area.  However, the tiger never strayed from the center of his nature perserve.  He paced 12 feet then turned, paced 12 feet then turned, paced 12 feet then turned, over and over again, walking the very same steps he'd walked from the time he was a young cub, retracing the circumference of the very cell that had kept him prisoner.

Free to roam, to stretch his legs, to explore and learn, the tiger was trapped in a cell of his own making.  How often do we fall into this trap?

I've been pondering this for days.  And what I've realized is writers tend to be like this tiger.  Why?  In the beginning of our careers, we're told how to write and to write what we know.  We follow formats and guidelines, genre and styles, only to be rejected because we aren't original enough or we're not submitting to the right line.  When we try to launch our ships, the very pristine prize we've spit-shined and polished, we're held back by a weighted anchor, unable to move full steam ahead.  Sometimes we hold the anchor below the surface, subconsciously sabataging our efforts.  Like the tiger, we forget there is a world beyond our guidelines.  To be honest, we're afraid.  Why do we fear artistic freedom?

I've been challenged by the story of this tiger to remember why I write.  I write because I love creating worlds with characters who desire love and yearn for the freedom to inhabit that love.  So what's holding me back?  What's stopping me from experiencing, through my characters, a love that's stronger than the circumference of a 12 foot by 12 foot cage?  And who wouldn't want to read about a powerful love like that?

I'll sum up what I've learned this past year, by saying this.  Write as if the world is at your fingertips.  Strip away the cage and bare yourself to the world.  Be courageous, not held prisoner to an invisible fence that's preventing you from stepping over into success.

Be the tiger, free and wild.  Remember at the heart of a good book is the power of the heart.  And the heart can defy any odds.

Are you trapped in a pattern that you think you cannot escape?  Think about the tiger.  Be the tiger.  FREE the tiger in you!

Katherine Bone
www.katherinebone.com
DUKE BY DAY, ROGUE BY NIGHT Oct/2012 Crimson Romance

Unexpected Things

Life is full of unexpected things.  In Jean's Monday blog, we saw that firsts become lasts, which then lead up to more firsts, and the cycle repeats over and over again.  Life is like that, isn't it?  We never seem to know when a first will blindside us.  Likewise, we don't know when a last will sneak up on us when we least expect it, leaving us fumbling for words to say.

I've been pondering this very thing lately because I've got a new book fermenting in my brain.  Along with it comes first love, the kind that develops during the course of a new story idea and the fleshing out of new characters with their firsts: first meet, first kiss, first fight... you get the idea.  ;)

Typing The End is ultimately satisfying because of the limitless publishing possibilities, but beginning anew is quite the adventure.  Expectation.  Suspense.  A compass that takes you where you want to go.  You name it!  When it comes to writing a new book, everything is at a writer's disposal.  But the choices a writer makes, the deeper into the book a writer goes, no matter how intricately plotted or conceived, oftentimes deviate from the designated fork in the road. 

To follow the plot or not?  That is the question. 

Characters like to blindside writers, don't they?  I find this part of the writing process to be the most intriquing part.  When a character comes fully-fleshed out, it's not like I have any say in the matter when that fork presents itself.

Once realized, stories become entities that no longer require a writer's vision.

I love this part about writing the most.  That moment when the story unfolds as if it is writing itself and the characters speak as though alive.  (Though it can get crowded up in here when that happens.  )

I'm having a moment like this now.  While finishing up my current book, I had a character who simply wouldn't allow me to write a scene.  He didn't like being told what to do.  (He's an Alpha male, of course and wanted things his way).  His way however, meant scaring my inner critique, that good ol' tried and true internal editor.  You know the one, or ones, in my case.  You see, my internal editor is a them, not a who.  They are the church choir staring over my shoulder, which makes it quite crowded in my tiny office space.  When the writing is good, it's so very, very good.  (Cue Hallelujah chorus, prayer hands and swaying bodies.)  But when the writing is bad, not bad writing, mind you, but writing that deviates to the deliciously bad and sexy, well... things can get ugly up in here.

Times like these call for extreme measures.  Believe me, I know.  That's why I love Alpha heroes.  Strong and sure of themselves, they won't let anyone stand in their way to a happy ending.  They're prepared to fight through the massing crowd with savvy and sword to exact my cooperation.  Until, my handsome hero defeats said internal editors and sends them packing off to the choir loft where they belong, I'm sometimes at a character's mercy.  And thankfully so.  Because when a truly fleshed-out character wants to make you his be-otch, you know the writing's good. 

When your story takes an unexpected turn, give your characters and stories their firsts and lasts.  Allow them to come to life.  Doing so, could possibly bring salvation.

How do you deal with that pesky Internal Editor?

Gardening Is A Process

I've been gazing at my garden with contented eyes and the sense that what is old is new again.  After having been neglected over the winter months, I always enjoy watching my garden sprout new growth out of the ground, be it Bachelor Buttons, Clematis, Stonecrop, Coral Bells, Hosta, Creeping Plox, Honeysuckle, Hydrangea and much, much more.  These days, a few of my favorite annuals, like Salvia, are actually rejuevenating after an unusually warm winter, an act of defiance which always excites me.  I have two batches by my mailbox that are already 12 inches tall.  Yay!  Which means, this year I'm going to have a grand show and an early one at that.  ;) 

Springtime rocks!  (Can I get an amen?)

In my garden, third and fourth generation flowers are growing wherever nature (or more like bird droppings) planted them.  These hardy seedlings often need replanting in better landscape, where sun and shade are at optimum levels for the species and I've always got nooks and craneys to fill.  I've also got tried and true originals, the bones of the garden, visual stablizers, usually in need of a trim, like Azaleas after they bloom, Holly, and Rhododendron.  And then there is the free-zone where annuals like my favs, Lantana, Salvia, Geranium and Vinca, are planted to create a colorful show once the threat of frost has passed (usually April 15 in my neck of the woods).

Watching a garden grow is one of my favorite passtimes.  Much preferred over watching a kettle boil.  What is that old saying?  "A watched pot never boils?"  (Tell that to writers everywhere waiting on contest results or submissions.)

When it comes to gardening, if you don't provide fertilizer, water and sun, not to mention, tender loving care, a garden won't grow.  And let's face it, someone's got to pick the weeds before they declare full-on war.  The same can be said for anything that strikes your fancy, be it painting, scrapbooking, quilting or knitting. 

I love to write so I'll put this in writerly terms. 

Writers have to write, plain and simple.  If a writer doesn't pick up a pen or touch the keyboard with his/her fingertips, the words won't write themselves. 

Writers can sit and stare at a blank screen but that doesn't achieve The End. 

Unless the gardener digs the hole (write the words), plant the seeds (string them together page by page), cover the seedlings with soil (write the book), and provide sun, water and fertilizer (revise, revise, revise), the gardener will not reap the harvest (sell the book).

It's spring!  Spring is a great time for a redo.  Didn't like last year's color scheme (plot)?  Redo.  The plants you chose for your home didn't quite measure up (characters)?  Redo.  The species you chose didn't like the soil, climate, amount of sun (genre)?  Redo.  Easy as 1... 2... 3.

What do you do when the writing needs a redo?  When contest judges declare a redo?  When critique partners don't get it?

 

Hard Work Takes Care of Itself

"To find a career to which you are
adapted by nature,
and then to work hard at it,
is about as near to a formula
for success and happiness
as the world provides.
One of the fortunate aspects
of this formula is that,
granted the right career has been found,
the hard work takes care of itself.
Then hard work is not hard work at all."

Mark Sullivan
(Thoughts on Success, Thoughts And Reflections From History's Great Thinkers)

I'm a writer. That's the career path I've chosen. Or was it the path that chose me? This is what I'm pondering today. How much of who we are as a person is wrapped up in our career choices?

In the process of cleaning out my study and reorganizing my bookcases, I've discovered interesting things about my journey as a writer. Years ago, I was hungry. I read everything there was to know about being a writer and took a great number of online courses to better educate myself on the in's and out's of writing. You see, I've always believed there was a formula for success. All one had to do was discover the basis for that formula, act upon it, and then... voila!

Mark Sullivan's quote offers truth to my theory, with a twist. The formula isn't how to, it's why.

Why do writers write?  Is it the instant gratification?  No.  Illusions of grandeur?  No.  Writers write because they have to. Characters and stories refuse to be silenced. They clammor to be written and fleshed out onto the page. Fully formed images ride a writer's psyche until the writer is broken like a bucking Bronco, sits in front of a computer or a pad of paper, and attempts to do the work needed to bring them to life.  It's easy to understand why some writers have become tortured souls. Hemmingway and Edgar Allan Poe anyone?

Being a writer also means embracing solitude. For introverts, that's easy. For others, those wonderful extroverts, not so much. The job is a lonely one, often only visited upon by invisible friends and interrupted by unwelcome telemarketer phone calls.  The quest for perfection is an endless task. But oh! how real and tangible those friends can be when the writing flows and the story reveals itself!

As my office evolves into a place I can go to for quiet reflection and communing with the muse, I'm not only seeing a more organized space, I'm privy to the growth I've made as a writer. Many successful writers say that to be a good writer, you must write a million words.  A million words!  Sounds like a lot of hard work, doesn't it?

Sullivan says, hard work is not hard work at all when you love what you're doing.

Do you love what you're doing?  What career path have you chosen?  And has the hard work been worth it?

Zombie Bookalypse: Story That Never Dies

(Photo courtesy of ZombieSurvivalCourse.com)

Okay, listen here... it's that time of year for ghouls and goblins, ghosts and gore. Yes, it's a mad cap world out there, dear friends, and October is the month to celebrate the rich, colorful traditions of Halloween.

Samhain and All Hallow's Eve, leading up to All Saint's Day. The time of year the world could be taken over with a Zombie apocolypse. Funny isn't it? The oxymoronish title of a History Channel program, Zombie: A Living History. Yes, in my quest to understand everything Zombie, I watched with eagerness as the history of the living dead revealed countless stories of brutality. One such story revealed Zeus' father, Cronus, ate his first five sons so they could not take his throne. Zeus, hidden by his mother, Rhea, at birth, eventually returned to kill Cronus and lead the Titan world into Legend. The first flesh eater?

Dating back to prehistoric times, man learned to surround himself with tomb-like walls in order to protect himself and his clan from danger. Throughout history, from Rome and Vikings, to Huns and disease, man grew to fear what happened to bodies after death. Interesting is the idea that we bury the dead underground, place bodies in tombs, and even arrange corpses carefully so that the undead cannot escape the earthy sarcophagus. Some ancient bodies were ceremonially buried with stones in mouths so the undead could not come back to eat living flesh.

Lots of important lessons on the History Channel. Even a lesson on how to kill the undead. Helpful tip: keep a machete or a sharpened shovel nearby.

For kicks and grins, check out Cracked.com for the 5 Scientific Reasons a Zombie Apocolpyse Could Actually Happen.

So after watching the History Channel, I got to pondering... (We all know how dangerous that can be.) In the writing world, how do you vanquish the book that will not die? I'm talking about the undead manuscript. One by one, books like these gather under writer's beds, collecting dust, forgotten on the carpet of neglect. Buried unceremoniously, these zombies disrupt dreams, steal thoughts away from new projects, gum the very tender flesh off the muse until only pulp is left behind. Like a world overrun by a zombie horde, there is always the thought, 'can this book can be saved?'

I've been wondering about this lately. A couple of my books have finaled in contests, but not gone any farther. I've had requests for partials and fulls and great revision suggestions on a particular book. I want to make it sing but when do you ceremoniously bury a book with stones so it can't come back to bite you?

How do you rid your bedroom of the Zombie Bookalypse? Surely a machete could be useful against the paper horde but what would that do to your feather pillows?

How do YOU kill a story that NEVER dies?

Ain't Life Weird

Life has a way of weirding you out, doesn't it?

One minute you are on the path to the summit, wind in your hair, a country flag to stake with pride, and a vow never to quit upon your lips, and the next, an intimate knowledge of rocks and nature’s cruel realities force you to hurdle and jump to gain the smallest ground.

To every noble stride, there are steep grades to scale, and scrub brush to pick out of aching flesh. No matter where you go, there will always be rain and the diagonal grade of a mountain which becomes a slippery slope. (Cue the early Columbia scene from Romancing the Stone.)

“Ooh, what a ride!”

What goes up must come down or vice versa, right? Isn’t that Darwin’s Theory? There will always be hurdles to jump and whistles to answer. Life is filled with Plain Jane rules, but it is more often than not a master of disguise and a mischievous villain contorting the hands of fate. Just when we think we’ve learned all we can, the way to our prize, destiny, is abraded by an unseen hand. What do we do? Scatter? Curl into a ball and pray? Or do we strap on a harness and repel down the mountain to safety?

The choices we make are the difference between succeeding and failing. Settling for normal has killed a great many gifted souls. Without a mountain to climb, there can be no appreciation of a beauteous summit. Without scrapping a knee or bloodying an elbow, nothing in life is worth the trouble.

I often ask myself why mountaineers scale Mt. Everest, Mt. McKinley and all the historic peaks of the earth. What draws climbers? What lures them to face challenges that kill and maim? Is it being able to say, “Only the favored few have or will ever make it to the top?” Or is it the struggle, the guts and brawn needed to make it there, which appeals to us the most? Does the prize mean as much when dues haven’t been paid? What happens when we make it to the top but are afraid of the heights?

Fighting for what you want will always take your breath. No matter the hurdle, whether that be starting a new job, bringing a child into the world, fighting for freedom at home and abroad, grieving death, the loss of a job, separation from family, there will always be a valley on the other side of the mountain. Whatever the mountaintop, rocks, mudslides, snow, wind, rain, and thirst, cannot stall the human condition. If the ambition/drive is there, the quest for excellence can and should be achieved.

In Romance the Stone, Joan Wilder, the mousy, NYC writer, took the first step up the mountain (in Manolo’s, no less) to reach the other side and save her sister. In the process, a true hero entered her life. The way up the steep grade was not easy. Columbian drug lords, thieves, and crocodiles proved to be tremendous hurdles. But together, Joan and Jack scaled the summit, attained their heart's desire, and repelled to safety, winning an HEA. Success came at great cost to their 'normal', but they discovered more about themselves than they thought possible during the climb.

Are you like Joan, stepping out of your comfort zone and risking it all? Or are you like Jack, hiding from destiny only to be called out of the jungle by fate?

What mountain rises before you? Share your stories with us under the Tulip Tree today.

What Keeps You Going?

Last week the RITA and Golden Heart finalists were announced. I'd like to congratulate everyone who finaled, especially Kieran Kramer, Paula Graves, Gwen Hernandez and Sharon Wray.

Contests can be a wonderful way for a writer's 'book of the heart' to find a home. Though luck and timing prevail, contests are a constant temptation on the end of a baited hook, which, when the rod is flicked and the reel thrown through cyberspace, entices writers out of their caves with promises of grandeur and hopes of advancing past the slush pile into an editor's or agent's heart. Seeing other writers final in contests can be motivating. But to many entrants, submitting to contests is a game of Russian roulette. What a writer gets out of a contest is the answer to an individual quest. It is the result of character, determination and perseverance.

For most, there will be no glory, no certificate of achievement or one-way ticket to an agent or editor's desk. If you're lucky, like I was last year when my entry, PIRATE BY NIGHT, finaled in the Georgian/Regency/Victorian category of the Romance Through the Ages contest, you're given a nod that you're on the right track.

This year, I'm happy to say I've finaled in the Romance Through the Ages contest again. The hero from my book, LOVE NEVER DIES, James Butler, finaled in the Legend Award category. Heroes out of all the entries in the contest are considered for this award. James, a 100 year old warlock charged with protecting an unseasoned witch and the talisman her ancestors have hidden for centuries, has been nominated for best hero. He's up against 6 other charismatic men, but the fact that the judges fell in love with James is very satisfying. The final results won't be announced until the Hearts Through History AGM in NYC, the end of June. In the meantime, I'm revising my entry and preparing it for the final round.

Every artist, no matter if they are a writer, painter, sculptor, love to needlepoint or garden, needs positive feedback. Contests can be that for many or they can be deflating. Everything depends upon your mindset.

I found a wonderful mantra from Jack M. Bickham and his book, The 38 Most Common Fiction Writing Mistakes (And How to Avoid Them). Put this on index cards and keep it handy or tape it near your computer for easy access when the world tries to break you down.

You CAN sell without an agent
Publishers ARE looking for new writers
Beginners DO break in every year
You DO NOT have to live in NYC to succeed
Your next story WILL BE better
Your luck IS NOT worse than most
Persistence WILL win out
The struggle IS worth making
You DO have enough talent
Anything you still need to know CAN BE learned
Tomorrow WILL look brighter.

(Jean and Stephanie will love this!) Bear Bryant said: "Don't give up at halftime. Concentrate on winning the second half."

Joe Paterno said: "The will to win is important, but the will to prepare is vital."

And here's my favorite, a great quote that taught me to send my babies into the world. "You have to send a ship out before your ship can come in."

What keeps you going?

A Journey of Fate

I recently went on a trip to Oklahoma, the state where I went to High School, college, where I met my hubby and got married, where my youngest daughter was born, and where my youngest son has been going to a particular Army school. During this trip, our family went sightseeing during my son's free time, through the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge, a place teaming with wildlife, boasting Geronimo's gravesite, and the Holy City, where an audience can witness the full range of Jesus's life, birth to sacrifice, every Easter. The Wildlife Refuge also boasts one mountain, Mt. Scott. Of course, I wasn't pleased to drive up to the top of it as there are barely any guardrails, and the ones in existence are mountain rocks vertically buried into the side of the mountain. Hardly enough to stop an out-of-control car from plunging over the edge. But I digress...

So it was with reflection on the past and my eyes fully on the present, that I made this journey to see my son, and, through it, learned how far I've come as a writer. Yes! Yes! You knew it was coming. This post will relate to writing. You know how I am. ;)

Observe the early writer in all her glory, eager to face the hazards of the written word, ready to embrace the road to publication with nary a concern.

Resplendent with thick luxurious fur to keep her warm on long winter nights of endless writing, she's armed with horns to stave off the critics and those who laugh off her first drafts.

Oh, magnificent speciman! How valiant you appear!



It isn't long, however, before the harsh realities of writing, critiques, contest results and issues of self-worth reduce our valiant novice from magnificent Buffalo to reluctant Prairie Dog with an urge to dive into the nearest hole. The muse has unleashed a torrent of abuse. "You'll never get published." "You're characters are unsympathetic." "You will never be able to show your face in public again!"

Such is the life of a writer! Enter the coon stage...



Our lonely, troubled writer becomes nocturnal in her efforts to create the best written work since J.K. Rowling. She hides her precious gem from the world, building bridges all the while that will help her make it out of the dark. She attends conferences, takes online classes, doing everything she can to hastily but lovingly build the dam that will hold back the forces of fate and hate.



After a time of solitude, she emerges once more, only now she's developed a thickened skin. No more the frightened Prairie Dog or nocturnal Raccoon, she is now the Armadillo, able to roam during the day and contend with nightly visits by the muse. Here, our writer excels, often dreaming of the day when her tomes will resonate with editors and agents. Now, she can clearly see herself receiving The Call.



Yes! At last, our lovely writer has aged well. No longer hiding her talents, she ventures forth out of the tunnels to channel her strengths and pass them on via mentoring to the young and hopeful walking in her very shoes.



Oh! But the road to fame is littered with bull. And, even though our glorious writer has endured the worst of times, and the stenchest of fumes, she must now find a way to keep the barbs of ongoing criticism and angst from decimating her flesh.



From courageous Buffalo to Prairie Dog, Raccoon, Armadillo and back, our writer takes up her yoke, doing it all again, in order to win the day. Like one of the creatures on the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge, life goes on. Our writer takes up her pen, taps on her computer, plots and brainstorms, living in and out of darkness for love of the written word. Stories are like nature. They come and go, some swiftly upon a storm, others gently like a soft rain or nurturing as the warmth of the sun. Though the process repeats itself over and over again, there is nothing finer than the knowledge that life, and the story, lives on.

There are plenty of dangers in the wild, rattle snakes, buzzards, copperheads, coyotes, and wolves. But there are dangers everywhere. Don't let your heart get caught in the vise of a snake.

I'm proud of my sons and my future son-in-law, who have commited their lives to serving our country. And I'm grateful for the time I recently got to spend with #3.

Are you a Buffalo, Prairie Dog, Raccoon, Armadillo or is the dung so pungent you can't tell the difference? Tell us what stage of life's journey you're in.