Archive for the ‘Writing Rambles’ Category

I see my mom do this quite a bit, flipping to the back of a novel to see how it comes out. I admit I’ve done it myself, but only because a) I don’t like the story and want to see if it’s worth reading to the end. It never is. Either the story is just as muddled in the last chapter as the first few ones, or everyone dies and what’s the point then in going further? b) I need to make sure a character, usually an animal, doesn’t die. If the animal, usually a pet, dies, I’m not reading the book. End of discussion.

I’m not quite sure why my mother reads the last chapter. She’ll have a quarter of the book down and then flip to the back. She’s given several answers why, but I don’t remember them all. Sometimes she continues reading, sometimes not.

I’ve heard other people do this as well and they seem quite happy with the arrangement. They like knowing where they’re going. I prefer to let the story take me there. There are times where I really, really, want to know how it ends. Will the main character make it (not die, reach his destination, etc), or be successful (solve the mystery, save someone or something, etc), but no. I am firm. I march on, page after page, relishing in the fact that I. Do. Not. Know. I want to be surprised. This is especially true when I haven’t a clue what’s going to happen, where all the foreshadowing doesn’t enlighten me or the author creates a huge puzzle.

And that’s how it should. The journey of reading a fiction book is one page at a time, sequentially.


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When I started this blog, it was for my writing. I don’t quite feel I’ve been doing that these last couple of years and I want to go back to that. I also want more Pawnee Kitty and Angus adventures. That’s another aspect of my writing, so that fits in too. Book Reviews. I’ll still do those.

I feel that I swayed from my path too much with more posts in the Whatever file. I will not go forego those because interesting things happen.

Starting next year, 2018, in January, I’ll be writing more on writing. It won’t be every post, but at least once a month there’ll be one for the Writing Rambles category. Stay tuned.

And Happy Holidays.


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While I wrote a Christmas book this year, I didn’t publish it. I was going to, really, I was. The words were written. The pictures drawn. I only needed a few tweaks. Then I found out that the place I go to sell them, moved up the bazaar a month early. No way I would get this done by then.

So, bummer. But, to be truthful, I wasn’t really feeling this story. It was an okay one, but I thought I could do better. I certainly could have done better on the pictures, that’s for sure. Some are really good. Some not so. So this ‘bad’ thing is really a good thing.

I learned certain things with this latest adventure. One, start early. Really early. I already have by honing my drawing skills. Two, choose the story wisely. While I like this story and think I did a bang up job of making it better, a better story would have been the way to go. I haven’t done that, picked a story, but I have a few in mind.

Next year. I’ll be better prepared.

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Having grown up on military posts, I like that there are more children’s books with kids who have a parent (or two) in the military. If I see a book like this I pick it up, but sometimes with reluctance. Sometimes the scenarios of the books are so far off from when I was a kid. Either times have changed, and that’s a good possibility, or the author takes quite a bit of liberties with the story line.

For instance, in some books the kids are almost mini-soldiers, using military lingo and doing things the ‘Army way’.  In a few books, the kids sneak in places that are off-limits and just go wherever they want. In the latter, I guess, for the sake of adventure that’s okay. Not that I like those kind, but I’ll go with it.

Still, it’s not like real life. I can’t remember any of my friends going around playing or talking like soldiers. We did play with those plastic army men, but I think, everyone did. We did play army dodge. That’s where if you’re hit by the ball, wherever it hit, you were ‘wounded’, but not out. I actually liked that version.  We played a lot of dodge ball. Basically we were just regular kids who had a parent in the Army.

There was no sneaking around the base. I never even entertained the thought. Not only would I get in trouble, but so would my Dad. If someplace was off-limits, it stayed off-limits. There was a time when we used to be walk through Campbell Barracks in Heidelberg (now closed and maybe even torn down) to school, but when they tightened restrictions, forget that. We had to walk all the way around and if you wanted to go in, be prepared to show that ID.

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People keep telling me sprains take a long time to heal. It’s been over a month now and I want it back to normal. Nope, got to wait a bit longer. Two months or more depending on the severity. I’ve got to clomp around in a cloth brace. That’s better than a moon-boot I suppose, but in summer SC, any added bit of clothing article is too much. Even on your foot. Every day I think, okay, tomorrow I can ditch the thing and then my ankle hurts a bit so it’s on for another day.

I’ve taken to wearing one of my shoes and one of my Dad’s. He wasn’t a large man so his shoe fits me and the brace almost perfectly. I’m sure I get some weird looks, but who cares? It works. I can walk. Now if only I can do my daily walking exercises. I miss  them. And I don’t miss them. The time I used for walking is now re-appropriated to drawing lessons from a book and to my writing. What’s not bad about that? I’ve been able to write more. I’ve finished a story and written two (very) short stories and am working on a Christmas one. I’ve not written a new one in the while and I’m excited about this one.

Back to the ankle. According to the x-ray, a ligament tore a bit of bone off and that’s causing some of the trouble. It’s better than having the ligament torn and needing surgery. I’ll have to take what I can get. As long as it gets better soon so I can continue my photo trips. Since I’m walking better, with no limping and no pain, that should be soon.

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I’m reading through my old books, deciding which to keep and which to sell or give away. A number of books are Star Trek novels. I’ve already given a lot away, sold them. I didn’t get much. There’s a glut of used Star Trek books on the market.

On the technology side, Star Trek books are usually up there. Even if our twenty-first century tech trumps it, it didn’t matter. You can accept the difference. This one, however, not so much. It was about a huge bomb exploding on the planet Centari. In it, Chekov washed dishes, Kirk called the front desk for room service, and citizens drove gasoline powered cars.


Even if it was written in the 1980’s, it’s out of date. People were even smoking cigarettes.

I thought first I’d keep the book because the premise wasn’t bad, but the technology kept getting in the way. It almost read like a book that had been written for the seventies in the seventies, but revamped for the future. I’ve read plenty of older books where modern technology surpassed what was in the book, but it could be forgiven. The science fiction books from the fifties are so from the times, you take it in stride. In those, the main characters are male oriented and they use flying cars and head off to Mars in rocket ships. That’s excusable. This Star Trek book was not.

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The Perfect Pen

When writing my first drafts I prefer to write with a pen in a notebook. There’s no battery to monitor. There’s no powering it up and opening up a word document. Just grab the notebook and the pen and nestle on the couch to write. Pens are perfect. Except they do run out of ink. And not all do the job well.

The wrong pen puts a kink in writing. Some fight you, dragging you down, making the words come slow and sloppy. Other pens gush ink so freely it runs the letters together marring the page. Finding the right pen isn’t easy. When I used to go to conferences, finding pens wasn’t so hard. I picked up tens of them and would go through to select the best ones. They might be cheap, give-aways, but they wrote smooth and fine. Now I’m at the bottom of my pile, the rejects, and they are so not working.

It’s off to the store I go. The inexpensive Bic pens and their other brand counterparts will not do. The nib is hard and the ink doesn’t roll off the tip. I find a more expensive kind, wishing I could try them out. Maybe I should have gone to the office supply store. I decide to take a gamble and pick out a pack. There are five in the pack and it’s advertised to be smooth. And it is. I’m happy. Except I wish they didn’t run out of ink so fast. A good pen should last a good novel’s length plus. This pen conks out before then. I may have to find another pen, the perfect pen.


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