JUNE CW BLOG CHAIN — PURSUING YOUR GOALS

Climber at the top Mt. Hood. 
(Photo by Trin Yuthasastrakosol)

Hello My Friend and Welcome. 

Today we add our link to the Christian Writer’s Blog Chain. This month’s topic is pursuit and, as usual, we’ll examine it from an authorial viewpoint. Pursue is an active verb implying movement toward a goal. So the question becomes, what is your goal? 

Each year an estimated 8-10,000 people attempt to scale Orgenon's talest peak, Mt. Hood. The operative word is attempt. Despite great intentions and a vigorous pursuit of their goal, as in all endeavors only a few make it to the top.

In her inaugural post, new blog chain member, Holly Michael, shared that when her son attended rookie camp with the New Orleans Saints his coach told the group, “Each of you are one out of three million kids that started playing football. There are 2,800 left. That means you are in the top 0.01%.” As someone whose mother once confessed she worried I’d never learn to walk because I kept tripping over my own feet, I stand in awe of such an achievement.  

The novel as a distinct literary form, though predating the era of professional athletes, is also a relatively recent phenomena. The origins of this unique method of storytelling coalesced in the 18^th Century. One of its early pioneers, Jonathan Swift, is credited with introducing allegorical elements and verisimilitude in his book, Gulliver’s Travels.  

Although the novel continues to mutate and evolve, most of its essential components, along with a diversity of genres, were firmly in place by the close of the 19^th Century. By then, Edgar Allen Poe had laid the groundwork for the macabre mystery novel, Jules Verne and H G Wells invented what used to be called science fiction, Wilkie Collins and Arthur Conan Doyle defined the first detective novels, Lew Wallace created the Biblical/Historical novel, and Mark Twain developed a uniquely American-style of writing that melded humor with gritty realism. 

Compared to our predecessors, we modern novelists have it pretty easy. The form is there and so are the plots. After all, how many times haven’t we been told, “There is no such thing as new plot?” Not only that, but we are blessed to live in the computer age. It boggles my mind to think of typing War and Peace page after page through various iterations. Nowadays it’s no problem to re-arrange sentences, paragraphs or even chapters. Highlight, Ctrl X, Crtl V and it's done! Change your main character’s name from Helen to Monique? No problem…Find and Replace All.  

But easy or hard, the ultimate question remains Why bother to write in the first place? Whether you’re sitting down to a stone tablet with hammer and chisel or a comfortable desk in front of keyboard and monitor, you must have some goal in mind…you’re in pursuit of something. Perhaps you’re seeking personal fulfillment or a resolution to some inner conflict. You may feel led to share your unique viewpoint, experiences, truths and insights. Then again, maybe you just find filling a page with words arranged in a special order to be fun. Though I would never eschew the blending of art and commerce; a laborer is worthy of his wages.  

In the final analysis, writing is a very personal endeavor and there is no right or wrong reason to write. I would, however, caution anyone pursuing fame and fortune to evaluate their goals. I always tell people that there are many garage bands, but few Beatles…just as there are lots of kids playing sandlot ball and only a few make it to the Pros. Even those writers who are regularly published seldom derive a living from it. Think hard before quitting your day job. 

Matthew Kelly, an Author and Inspirational Speaker whom I enjoy listening to, says God has a place for each us in his plan. We can know we’ve found our particular spot when we find a deep, abiding fulfillment in an activity, time seems to vanish whenever we pursue it, and we’d do it for free if no one would pay us for doing it. That describes a lot of writers I know.

Until the next time, we wish you Peace and Blessings.

CHRISTIAN WRITER'S BLOG CHAIN - SAVOR

 

Hello My Friend and Welcome. 

Today is our turn on the Christian Writer’s Blog Chain. This month’s word is savor and, as usual I’ll slant my comments to the writing life. We live in the Coos Bay-North Bend area on Oregon's South Coast. The city of Coos Bay, originally named Marshfield, surrounds North Bend on three sides. The fourth side is water. Marshfield existed first and then, in 1903, Timber Baron, Louis Simpson, founded a new town at the north bend of the Coos Bay and named it accordingly. North Bend currently has approximately 9.700 people. The 1910 census credited the new town with slightly over 2,000. It steadily increased to a peak of 9,779 in 1980 and has pretty much stayed there. 

Ship Loading Logs for Export on North Bend's Bayfront

Because I find myself between projects, my long-suffering spouse has been asking, “Didn’t you promise a play day once your book came out?” To which I can only answer, “Yes, Dear.”

We both savor life here on the Oregon Coast and a play day for us means visiting some of our favorite attractions that the area has to offer.

The McCullough Bridge Crosses the Bay into North Bend

So today, I thought I’d take you along when we go to some of our favorite spots, but with a little twist. My book LOST is set on the Southern Oregon Coast in the mythical town of Pine Crest, which coincidentally bears a strong resemblance to North Bend. Interestingly enough, my characters also visit some of our favorite places. Small world, huh? But rather than tell about these places or add captions to the photos, I'll use excerpts from the book to annotate the tour. I hope you enjoy your day on  Oregon’s Bay Area. Be sure to fasten your seatbelt...it's there on your left.

Eddie carried a bag with sodas, crackers and a smoked fillet of albacore tuna they’d bought at a fish market. It was the middle of the week and the two men had the beach pretty much to themselves. The air was clear and crisp under a partly cloudy sky and the tide was on its way out. As it receded, it left behind a wide expanse of firm, damp sand for them to walk on.

After they’d walked a while, Tom noticed a large drift log partially buried in the sand, an impromptu picnic table. The men straddled the log facing each other and unwrapped their lunch. Despite a steady breeze coming off the water, the air around them filled with the smell of the cured and smoked fish.

A Chopper from Coast Guard Air Station North Bend

He handed the guard a business card. “I have an appointment with Captain Harrison.”

The guard scanned the day log, found his name and picked up the phone to notify them inside. “Someone will be out to escort you into the building.”

The sudden high-pitched whine of a jet engine precluded further conversation. On the other side of a high fence, one of the Coast Guard’s HH65A Dolphin helicopters revved its engines in preparation for takeoff.

Tom stepped to the fence to watch.

The red-orange chopper slowly rose into the air. It hovered a few feet above the tarmac for several long moments as if suspended by an invisible wire. Then its nose swung around and the craft quickly lifted up and away from the base in a northwesterly direction. Once they attained sufficient altitude, they leveled out, swept across the bay, and vanished over the crest of the dunes.

The drive to the Eugene meandered through the Umpqua River valley. The river steamed with patchy, morning fog. Traffic was light, the scenery beautiful. On Highway 38 east of Reedsport, they passed a large herd of elk. Charlie popped his head up in the back seat when Marty called them to Tom’s attention. The dog scrutinized the large animals, gave a soft woof then settled back to resume his nap.

Eddie left Tommy’s and drove to Charleston. He turned onto a small road that skirted the slough and parked alongside a metal-sided building. The gray, windowless building was two stories high with sliding doors front and back. Orange rust stains on its tall metal walls indicated where the gutters leaked. Oil drums, a rusting anchor, cable spools and other paraphernalia lay scattered along the side of the building.

Eddie heard voices and pounding inside. He slid the door open a crack and stepped through. He slowly approached the large blue ship that filled the room and stood with his hands in his pockets staring up at its bow.

Bright overhead lights illuminated the work area and heavy blocking and stanchions supported the ship. They’d set ladders against its sides. Equipment, parts, coils of electrical wire and toolboxes lay around the base of each ladder. Multiple electrical extension cords snaked across the floor and up and over the ship’s gunnels.

Those stormwatchers who went to Shore Acres State Park got what they came for. The wind whipped the incoming tide into frothy whitecaps and sent waves smashing against the cliffs with the chest thumping intensity of summer fireworks. Huge plumes of water roared up the sides of the steep, rocky ledges leaping a hundred feet into the air before crashing down on the storm-watchers.  Farther north, gusts swept across the dunes turning sand into buckshot and bowing solitary shore pines till they threatened to snap.

We hope your enjoyed your short visit to the Oregon Coast and will come back soon. The weather's mild here - winter lows in the 40's and highs in the mid 50's. In the summer the temp soars to the mid 60's with an overnight low of about 50. Of course, on a stormy day at Shore Acres it can feel a lot colder.


P.S. In all fairness, I am forced to admit that after I posted this a freak winter storm swept in Monday night bringing with it six inches of snow. We were also without power until 4:00 PM on Tuesday. Lights are back on and the snow is melting like crazy. High for the day was 48...nothing like life on the South Coast.

Next time we'll resume our Lenten/Easter series with the prophecies of Palm Sunday, Good Friday and Easter.
Until then, we wish you Peace and Blessings.

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CW BLOG CHAIN — GIFTS FROM THE HEART

Hello My Friend and Welcome.

 

Today’s post is our monthly installment in the Christian Writer’s Blog Chain. December’s topic is Gifts of the Heart…an appropriate one for the Christmas season. As usual, our focus will be on the writing life.

Isn’t any story worth its salt truly a gift from the heart, the author’s heart?

WORKING WITHOUT A NET

I remember reading about a famous comedian pouring himself a stiff drink before going on stage. Someone noticed and gave him a judgmental glance. He turned to them and said, “You don’t think I’m going to go out there alone, do you?”

The era of the hard-drinking writer has, thankfully, come and gone. There was a time, however, when the drunk writer was almost considered de rigueur. The prevailing myth of the time said the rigor of writing involved such angst and suffering that an author could only execute his or her craft when fortified by regular doses of stiff drink. In his book The Courage to Write: How Writers Transcend Fear, Ralph Keyes never goes so far as to prescribe alcohol, but he does validate the wear and tear on a writer’s psyche.

Why should that be?

WRITE WHAT YOU KNOW

We’ve all heard the old saw, “Write what you know.” We can take that admonition as literally as we choose. Insider information and personal experience can be a valuable tool for a writer. For instance, Nicholas Sparks lives in New Bern, NC and most of his novels are set along the southeastern Atlantic coast. John Grisham practiced law for a number of years and writes legal thrillers. Stephen King, a New Englander, often places his characters in Maine or greater New England. Similarly, I strove to develop a strong sense of place in both of my commercial novels. LOST is set on the Southern Oregon Coast where I have lived for many years. Much of PROMISES takes place in Appalachian Kentucky, a place where I worked and traveled as a young man.

Does this mean the dictum write what you know means every story must be set in a town remarkably similar to the one in which you reside? Does every main character have to have the same day job you do? Of course not! We write what we know by reaching inside ourselves and tapping into universal feelings, yearnings and emotions that define the human condition.

This is why Keyes talks about transcending fear. It can be a scary thing to tap into all the stuff, much of it negative, that we keep tucked away inside us…the unrequited love, the unrealized hopes and dreams, those embarrassing moments, the gaffs and goof-ups. Robert Frost said, “No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.”

Paul Gallico, author of the Poseiden Adventure, put it more caustically, “It is only when you open your veins and bleed onto the page a little that you establish contact with your reader. If you do not believe in the characters or the story you are doing at that moment with all your mind, strength, and will, if you don’t feel joy and excitement while writing it, then you’re wasting good white paper…”

In real life our sixth sense usually tells us when someone’s faking it. Guess what? If a writer wants to touch his/her reader, the situations, emotions and feelings, the responses and reactions have to be honest…true. Why? A reader can tell when you’re faking it. So the bottom line is, honesty is not only the best policy; it’s the only policy. An Indian storyteller clearly understood this when he told his audience, “I do not know if this happened, but the story is true.”

MAKING A VOW 

Okay, writers, hand on your heart. Let’s agree here and now to only write true stories. No Deus ex Machina, pointless plots, meandering dialog, meaningless scenes, and predictable endings. In other words, no tepid fiction allowed. By committing to dig deeper and write only true stories, we’ve come back to this month’s theme. After all, isn’t any story worth its salt truly a gift from the heart, the author’s heart?

Until next time, we wish you Peace and Blessings.