Ain’t Our First Rodeo

Once again, some stories of mine got published. The anthology Ain’t Our First Rodeo: Another Fort Worth Writers Anthology just came out.

They roped me into co-editing this anthology, the third for which I’ve served in an editorial capacity. With any luck, another geological epoch will pass before I edit another one.

We wrangled a lot into this volume. Altogether, seventeen authors contributed eighty-six works, including poems, essays, chapter excerpts, and short stories. They hogtied every mood, topic, style, and tone you can imagine, and then some you can’t imagine.

As a rule, I don’t put my own stories in anthologies I’m editing, but, well, it’s more of a guideline than a rule. You’ll find three of my short stories cluttering this book.

“Voyage of the Millennium Quester”

A time-traveling duo ventures back to record the most incredible astronomical sight in history. If they’re not careful, the dumber one of the pair might mess things up.

“Weathervane Wally”

A Texas farmer claims his weather-forecasting armadillo surpasses Punxsutawney Phil in prognosticating prowess. Can he prove that to a Pennsylvania TV reporter?

“Bringing the Future to You”

Doctor Edison Thornwhipple couldn’t see anything in Doctor Rachel Clairvaux’s crystal ball, but what she saw changed the next ten minutes…and the world. First published (with some text differences) in the anthology Cheer Up, Universe!

Y’all can lasso your own copy of Ain’t Our First Rodeo here and get a good roundup of stories by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

9 Other Reasons to Join a Critique Group

In this blog, I’ve often suggested you join a critique group to improve your writing. Such groups can help you in other ways, though, aside from just learning to produce higher quality writing output (though that would be reason enough). In varying degrees, I’ve received all of these benefits from critique groups.

You can read about many of these additional perks in this fine post by poet Bruce W. Niedt. To his list I’ve added a couple more.

  • Writing Opportunities. Critique group members can alert you to writing contests, upcoming conferences, useful workshops, and writing classes. They can also warn you about scams.
  • Story or Idea Inspiration. Every now and then, a critique group member may say something that sparks your creative flame. It could be a snippet of dialogue, a setting description, a plot event, or an entire story. When this occurs, you should ask if you can use the idea.
  • Market News. Often, one member of the group will share information about a new fiction market opening up, or new trends that agents and publishers are looking for.
  • Promotion Help. When other members run a blog or post on social media, they’re sometimes willing to promote your writing on their platforms. It’s courteous for you to reciprocate for them, of course.
  • Taking Criticism. At some point, your writing will face criticism from editors and readers. Once you’ve learned to receive harsh blows from your critique group friends with understanding and without defensiveness, you’ll be prepared to endure anything others dish out.
  • Giving Criticism. Participation in a critique group also trains you how to critique others’ writing, which may come in handy should you ever work as an editor. Even more important, you’ll become a better reader. You’ll read with the perception of a writer.
  • Production Motivation. Critique group meetings serve as a prod, urging you to write and submit to the group. You’ll feel guilty when you have nothing to share. Without the schedule pressure of an upcoming group meeting, you might fall into lazy habits.
  • Peripheral Proficiency. There’s actual writing, and then there’s the other stuff—submissions, correspondence with editors, cover letters, bios, author photos, public speaking, book signing, etc. Chances are, someone in your critique group can prepare you for your first experience with these tasks.
  • Connection and Rapport. If those who live with you aren’t writers, there are things they just won’t understand. Worse, they may harbor suspicions that you’re not quite right. But the members of your critique group get you. To them, at least, you’re normal. It’s reassuring to socialize with people who share your interest.

You’ll benefit from a good critique group even if all it does is improve your writing. The incidental benefits add icing and candles and sprinkles, etc., to the cake. Join a critique group, or start one. You’ll enjoy it for many reasons, and maybe end up thanking—

Poseidon’s Scribe

When Critique Groups Go Bad

In previous posts, I’ve promoted joining a critique group as a way to improve your writing. I still stand by that, but critique groups—being made up of humans—aren’t perfect. Sometimes you might have to drop out and join a new one.  

Critique groups consist of writers who review and comment on each other’s work. Always voluntary, and usually free or low cost, they meet either in person or online. Through these interactions, you can learn how to improve your writing, and how to give effective critiques that help your fellow writers. Useful ideas often come from these meetings, and you’ll find yourself hearing the voices of your fellow writers as you work on your manuscripts.

Still, they can go bad. As discussed by Anne R. Allen in this informative post, there are several types of critique group members to watch out for. I’ll summarize her list and put it in my own words, but the ideas are hers.

  1. Perpetually Offended.  These are writers who can’t look beyond their personal belief systems, whether religious, political, racial, sexual, etc. It’s one thing for them to point out a stereotyped character in your story. That’s fair, and valuable. But to tell you that your writing offended them is not helpful. You won’t receive good critiques from such people.
  2. Enforcers of the Old Rules. Some group members might say you can’t end a sentence with a preposition, or hit you with some other outdated rule they learned from a high school English teacher. Or they might be just plain wrong. Either way, ignore these criticisms.
  3. Ignorers of Group Norms. Critique groups need rules, whether written or not, and members should abide by them. How does the group get new members, or kick out a disruptive one? How long can submissions be? How are critiques offered and received? Members that violate the rules detract from the critique experience.
  4. Bad or Missing Group Moderator. Groups can sometimes work better with a leader, but a bad leader can ruin the experience. Anne R. Allen listed this item, but I don’t entirely agree. I’ve been a member of a leaderless critique group for twenty years. It’s small (four people), and we did once discuss having a leader, but we never chose one and haven’t suffered for it.
  5. Grammarians in a Gaggle. You’ll benefit from having at least one grammar expert in the group. But if that becomes the group focus, rather than plot or character or description, then you’re missing most of what critiques should be about.
  6. Control Freaks. Some group members might get grumpy or angry if you don’t take their advice. These folks forget whose name will go on the published story—the author’s, not the critique group members. You are free to take or reject any advice from any group member, and their inability to accept that is their problem.
  7. Pollyannas. One or more members might give you only praise—nothing negative. A good critique should have positive and negative elements. We feel good when others like our work, but if they don’t point out the bad parts, they’re not helping you.
  8. Re-writers. These folks think they have a better idea for your whole story concept, and it sounds like something they’d write. Listen to their advice in case it contains a useful nugget, but otherwise ignore them.
  9. Self-Proclaimed Experts. Some people sound authoritative and spew false assertions with utter confidence. You’ll probably believe them the first time, but after a fact-check proves them wrong, you should doubt their advice after that.
  10.  Initiation Shamans. On occasion a group includes someone who makes things tough on newcomers. Their scorching critiques are enough to make a newbie quit the first day.

Got enough of these types in your critique group? Quit and find (or form) a better one. No need to remain part of a group that’s not helping you.

Also, (need I say it?) you should avoid exhibiting the above behaviors yourself. I’ve probably hit about half of them at some point, so don’t join any group that includes—

Poseidon’s Scribe

November 21, 2021Permalink

Retreating to Write

Would you go on a writer’s retreat? I’ve blogged about them before, but that post took the form of a warning to set reasonable expectations for what you’ll accomplish.

This weekend, while on a retreat, I’ll put on a more positive spin and discuss the benefits. I’ve retreated to an old house in a small rural town with three other writers—the members of my critique group. Here’s a view from the house’s balcony.

The house stands an hour and a half away from my home, where I usually write. The perspective, the atmosphere, the ambiance, is different here. I like to think it sends my mind down different grooves and lets my thoughts wander strange and unexplored byways.

There’s something invigorating about being among other writers, too. When not writing, we sit and talk. It’s fun to learn of their struggles and dreams, to celebrate their victories and commiserate over their defeats.

Non-writers have their own hobbies, of course, and join with like-minded hobbyists for weekends away. But their weekends are not like those of writers. If you could be here with us, you’d see us each in our own corner of the house, quietly busy with laptop or pen. At the moment, we’d rather talk to you, our readers, through our written words than to each other through spoken ones.

Does that sound odd? Pathetic? Rude? Introverted? Boring? Perhaps it would, to non-scribblers. To a writer, it is bliss. Here, for one glorious weekend, the urgencies of life do not interrupt, the excuses for not writing are absent, the schedule collapses to just one task.

There’s something too, about a change in perspective. It unshackles the mind. If you always write in the same chair, the same room, the same desk, is it any surprise that each of your stories seems like the others? Similar characters, similar plots, similar settings? For this reason, while writing at home, I sit in different chairs in different rooms. But this retreat, to a location I’ve never been, grants me a fresh outlook.

Retreats come in different flavors, of course. Some are more like writer workshops, with an expert providing occasional instruction. Some are solitary, where the writer goes unaccompanied to a remote locale. Each of these has pros and cons.

Your retreats need not be frequent, or expensive. My group goes only about every two to three years, and never to the same place twice. We’re mindful of costs and share the monetary burden. For us, the point is not to enjoy breathtaking scenery or to visit nearby attractions. All we need is quiet time. That’s worth emphasizing: Quiet. Time. Need ‘em both.

So, writer, consider a retreat. Withdraw from the daily demands of chores, work, and family. View things from a different angle for awhile. Socialize with other writers who strive, like you, to sharpen their scribbling skills. You might find you benefit as much from it as does—

Poseidon’s Scribe

My Weekend at Chessiecon ‘16

What a great weekend! I was at Chessiecon, a science fiction/fantasy conference near Baltimore. In case you missed it, here’s the recap:

I moderated a panel on “Gadgets in Fiction.” We discussed how it’s easy to get too passionate about your faster-than-light drive or the workings of your hand-held ray gun, but your audience doesn’t want a textbook. How do you share your geeky idea without straying into too much? When does over-reliance on gadgetry start to take away from the plot and characterization?

The talented and knowledgeable panel members were Martin Wilsey, Nicole “Nickie” Jamison, and Steve Kozeniewski. They had some great ideas about how to discuss and describe gadgets in your fiction without boring readers.

chessiecon16-gadget-panel-2-2
Martin Wilsey, Steve Southard, Nicole “Nickie” Jamison, and Steve Kozeniewski

 

Later, I moderated another panel called “Care and Feeding of Critique Groups.” The blurb for that panel was—participating in a critique group can be a great way to improve your writing. Not all such groups work out well, though. The panel will discuss ways to keep a critique group helpful, vibrant, and long-lived.

My willing and able panel members were Danielle Ackley-McPhail, Jay Smith, Margaret Carter, and J.L. Gribble. It became obvious to me that critique groups come in all sizes, shapes, rules, forms, etc. The keys to success appear to be setting expectations, actively participating, being fair in providing critiques, and being thick-skinned in receiving them.

chessiecon16-crit-panel-5-2
Danielle Ackley-McPhail, Jay Smith, Margaret Carter, J.L. Gribble, Steven R. Southard

 

All that was Friday. On Saturday, I moderated yet another panel, this one called “Dive! Dive! Submarines in Science Fiction.” The idea of this one is that not all SF takes place in outer space. Panelists will discuss their favorite undersea fiction and undersea vehicles.

I called myself the Captain of this panel, and my crew was D.H. Aire, Leslie Roy Carter, Kelly A. Harmon, and Martin Wilsey. Sorry, no picture of this one. We had a great time discussing favorite science fiction submarines, and what sets submarines apart from other story settings.

catseye_final-72dpiAt my book reading, I read the entirety of “The Cats of Nerio-3,” my story from the recently published anthology In a Cat’s Eye. I hope the audience enjoyed the story at least half as much as I loved reading it.

chessiecon-16-book-signing-4I had a fine time at the book signing later Saturday night. For one of the copies of In a Cat’s Eye, the woman asked me to sign it to her two cats. First time I’ve done that! I hope her cats enjoy the story. I sold another copy to a young girl who just loves cats. I forgot to tell her and her mother that the stories in that anthology are a bit on the dark side. Oh, well…

All in all, a delightful weekend! It’s fun to gather with fellow authors who write, and with readers who love, science fiction. It just warms the heart of—

Poseidon’s Scribe

December 1, 2016Permalink

My Chessiecon Schedule

Those of you who’ll be in the Baltimore, Maryland area during Thanksgiving weekend might want to stop by the Radisson North Baltimore Hotel and drop in on Chessiecon. Chessiecon is the science fiction convention formerly known as Darkovercon.

I’ll be speaking there this time, and here’s my schedule:

Date Time Topic Location
Friday, Nov. 25th 3:00 – 4:15 Gadgets in Fiction Greenspring 1
Friday, Nov. 25th 6:45 – 8:00 Care and Feeding of Critique Groups Greenspring 2
Saturday, Nov. 26th 10:00 – 11:15 Dive! Dive! Submarines in Science Fiction Greenspring 1
Saturday, Nov. 26th 1:45 – 2:15 Book Reading Greenspring 2
Saturday, Nov. 26th 6:45 – 8:00 Book signing Atrium

chessielogoThat schedule is subject to change. I’ll post any changes here as I find out about them. There are many other things to see and do at Chessiecon, other than attending my panels, readings, and signings.

Why do they call it Chessiecon? Chessie is a huge beast thought to inhabit the Chesapeake Bay environs, but few have seen it and it may be mythical.

Hmm… that describes me!

Anyway, I’d love to see you at Chessiecon. Please attend. You could get a priceless selfie taken with—

Poseidon’s Scribe

November 13, 2016Permalink

After the Martians—the Story Behind the Story

It’s the question readers ask authors most often: “Where do you get your ideas?” I’ve blogged about that before, but today I’ll reveal the birth of the idea behind my just-launched book,AftertheMartians72dAfter the Martians.”

It wasn’t my idea at all.

My friend, fellow author, and critique group partner, Andy Gudgel, thought of the idea. Heaven knows where he got it. At one of our critique group meetings, he mentioned he’d like to write a sequel to H.G. Wells’ The War of the Worlds, but his story would deal with the aftermath, with dead Martians lying around, but also their technology. After all, the tripod fighting machines would be still standing where they stopped. The assembly machines would be intact and stationary near the landing sites of the Martian projectiles. Even a few flying machines might be available.

Andy’s idea was that humans would then use these weapons in a very different version of World War I.

This notion captivated me, and I urged him to write the story. Each time he sent us manuscripts of other tales, I’d ask him about the Martian story. “This one’s good, Andy,” I’d say, “but when are you going to give us that War of the Worlds sequel?”

Then at one December meeting, (at which we exchange little gifts to each other), I unwrapped his gift to me, and there were all his notes, and his copy of H.G. Wells’ novel. A note stated he was giving his story idea to me. I should write the tale, since he would not likely ever get around to it.

Wow! That could be the greatest gift one writer could give to another.

I say ‘could be’ because of an emotionally painful event that happened to me some twenty years earlier. At that time, I belonged to a different writing critique group. One other group member had written more than half of his novel. As I recall, it involved a modern-day (well, mid-1990s) nuclear attack on the United States.

Sadly, this writer died young. He had not completed writing that novel, let alone sent it to any agents or publishers.

His wife wrote to me to say how much her husband had appreciated my critiques of his work, and said he’d wanted me to finish, and seek publication of, his novel.

With a heavy heart, I had to decline the offer, but found it gut-twisting to tell his widow that. To write a story, I must have passion about it and care deeply about it and about the characters. I just didn’t feel that way in this case. Moreover, even if I’d had that enthusiasm, I would have had to rewrite large portions of the other writer’s novel to make it mine, and would have felt terrible about not honoring the deceased writer’s wishes exactly, or not living up to his hopes.

In the case of Andy’s WotW sequel, he hadn’t started writing yet. He’d compiled some notes and a rough outline, but I decided to take the story in a different direction than he’d planned. I didn’t feel badly about that, since he hadn’t begun the actual writing and my passion drove me toward the story that became “After the Martians.”

That’s the story behind the story written by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

Writing Blurbs

Whether readers buy books online or in a bookstore, they look at the cover first and the blurb second. If the blurb doesn’t grab them, they move on. Don’t kill that sale with a bad blurb.

BlurbA blurb is defined as a short description of your book, written for promotional purposes and appearing on the back cover. That definition sucks all the life out of the word, though. Scratch out “written for promotional purposes” and substitute “written to seize the prospective reader’s attention and imbed an irresistible desire to possess the book and read every word.”

My primary publisher, Gypsy Shadow Publishing, asks for two blurbs for each book—a long one that’s less than 150 words, and a short one no longer than 25 words. Both of these are difficult for me to write, but the short blurb is the toughest.

What should be in a blurb?

  • Hint at the plot or main conflict.
  • Name and mention distinguishing trait of main character(s).
  • Describe the setting or ‘world.’ This is vital in science fiction and fantasy.
  • If available, include quotes about this book or your previous books.
  • If space available, include an author bio.

How do you write one?

  • Study other book blurbs in your genre. Learn the common words and language.
  • Write a summary of your book (if not done already), then shorten it down to its essence. What’s the book’s “elevator speech?”
  • Use image-laden words, those powerful words that speak to readers of the book’s genre.
  • Ensure the tone of the blurb matches that of the book.
  • Write several blurbs and combine the best features.
  • Set it aside for a few days, then read it again. If meh, rewrite.
  • Ask your critique group to comment on it. You are in a critique group, right?

Further Reading

You can find out even more about blurbs from Amy Wilkins, Marilynn Byerly, and the master of writer advice, Joanna Penn. I’ve shamelessly stolen from them in writing this post.

Examples

Here are three of the 25-word blurbs from my most recent books. These don’t contain all the elements noted above, but the 150-word, lengthier versions do:

  • Ripper’s Ring:” The ancient Ring of Gyges grants the power of invisibility to Jack the Ripper. A Scotland Yard detective tracks a killer who can’t be seen.
  • Time’s Deformèd Hand:” Time for zany mix-ups in a clock-obsessed village. Long-separated twins, giant automatons, and Shakespeare add to the madcap comedy. Read it before it’s too late!
  • The Cometeers:” A comet threatens Earth…in 1897! Of the six men launched by cannon to deflect it, one is a saboteur. It’s steampunk Armageddon!

With some practice and creativity, your blurbs should be even better than any written by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

After the Writer’s Conference

You returned home energized after attending a writer’s conference and you know that feeling will fade, but you wish it wouldn’t. Are there any techniques for maintaining your enthusiasm level?

Of course there are, and you happened onto the very blog post that reveals them.

Post-Conference ElixerLet’s backtrack. After months of laboring in solitude, coming up with ideas all by yourself, and typing away at manuscripts alone, you go to a writer’s conference.

While there, you attend panels and hear published authors discuss tricks of the trade. You hear editors and publishers talk about current trends in your genre. You hobnob with writers and readers, bounce book ideas off other people, discover websites and software that might help you with your next story.

Heady stuff! Your mind is abuzz with plans and notions. You can’t wait to put all that information to use. This conference has revealed to you the hidden secret of getting published, and you’re convinced that this time, at this moment, and armed with this knowledge, you have finally cracked the cypher and will write your masterpiece and the world will stand in awe of the miracle that is you.

Back at home now. Sitting at the computer, your fingers are hovering over the keyboard. You’re ready for greatness.

Really ready.

Any moment now.

But something happened. Someone opened a mental drain valve and the fervor has flowed away. The passion has ebbed and leaked out.

It isn’t fair! One moment you held the key to immortality in your hands, and the next it’s gone, and there’s only you and an unhelpful blinking cursor again. Along with a hungry cat, or a dog that wants its walk, perhaps.

Sadly, there’s no concoction you can drink to restore the zeal you had at the conference. There’s no Excitement Elixir, no Talent Tonic, no Passion Potion. Top scientists are at work on the problem and may someday achieve a breakthrough, but for now you’re pretty much out of luck.

Except…

I have some ideas for—at least partially—restoring that feeling:

  • Review your conference literature and notes.
  • Write descriptions of your favorite conference moments, and what you learned.
  • Using those descriptions, notes, and brochures to write down an action plan of things you’d like to try out.
  • Whenever you get stuck, blocked, or depressed about your writing, review your conference notes and descriptions.
  • E-mail any contacts you met at the conference, and engage with them.
  • Join a critique group.
  • Join a writer’s group.
  • Take a course in creative writing.
  • Read a book about writing.

If all of those fail, well, you can always register for the next writer’s conference. That will at least restart the cycle, beginning with the thrill of anticipation.

It was a great conference, though, wasn’t it? We can’t bottle the feeling, but we can at least recall it and relive it in our minds, and try other things to rekindle it. Though I’m no Snake Oil salesman, I hope you derive some benefit from the ideas you get from—

Poseidon’s Scribe

10 Reasons You Really Are Good Enough to Write Fiction

Perhaps you have a story inside you, but you feel too scared or intimidated or inadequate to believe you could ever write fiction.  Here are some ways to banish those feelings.

First, there are at least three levels of fiction-writing.  (1) These days you can write and publish something yourself without an editor, at near zero cost.  (2) You can get your writing accepted by a publisher, but not make enough money to live on.  (3) You can write fiction as your sole means of support.  I’ll limit myself to discussing level (2) today.

Never be a writerTrue, some people aren’t cut out to be writers at all.  My purpose today is to keep you from cutting yourself out of the running at the start.  Let’s look at ways you might think you’re not fit to be a writer:

  1. I just know I could never be a writer.  Where is your resistance to writing coming from?  Do you immediately think “I could never do that” when presented with other opportunities in life?  Maybe this isn’t about writing at all, but your general negativity toward trying new activities.  How many amazing human initiatives haven’t happened because somebody said, “I could never do that,” hmm?
  2. I don’t know anything about writing.  Don’t let this stop you.  That’s the part you can get help with, through critique groups, writing courses, books about writing, writing conferences, etc.
  3. I’d never write as well as [insert your favorite famous author’s name here].  Stop comparing yourself to the great authors.  You can’t know today how you’ll stack up against them one day.  So what if you’re not quite as good?  You can still get published and win over some readers.
  4. I’m unknown, and people only read books by known authors.  Think about it; all published authors started off unknown.  What if your favorite author had talked herself or himself out of writing?
  5. No editor will read my stories because I’m unpublished.  Not true.  Consider that latching on to a new, undiscovered top talent is every publisher’s dream.  All they need is one (you?) to make their career.
  6. Novels seem so hard to write.  No need to begin with a novel.  Try a novella, a short story, flash fiction.  Do blog posts for a while.
  7. My teacher told me I’d never be a writer.  Is one long-ago English or Language Arts teacher still in your head criticizing you?  Keep that teacher in your mind, but dedicate yourself to showing how wrong he or she was; sweet revenge will be yours one day.
  8. My story idea seems trite, or already used, etc.  At this point your idea is just a story concept; it might match hundreds of already-published stories.  Once you flesh it out and write it down, it becomes uniquely yours, different from all others, and possibly publishable.
  9. It takes too long to write a story.  True, writing takes time.  But, of all the skills and abilities you’ve developed in life, how many did you master in a day?  Let the strength of your story idea sustain you.  If it’s truly grabbed you, you’ll persevere until you write it all down.
  10. I couldn’t stand being rejected or getting a bad review.  That does stink, no denying it.  Any creative endeavor requires a thick skin.  Look at editor’s rejections as permissions to send your story elsewhere.  As for bad reviews, remember it’s far easier to be the critic.  At the worst, the reviewer may actually have a valid point you can use to improve your writing for the next story.

See?  You are good enough to at least try being a writer.  Shake off those negative emotions.  Let your imagination soar.  Allow yourself to try it out.  Someday, when you’re a famous author, be sure and give partial credit to—

                                                Poseidon’s Scribe

November 17, 2013Permalink