The Olive Tree

My server has been down for over 12 straight hours. I called this morning and they assured me that the techs were working hard on it. They just got it back up again.... naughty, naughty. I guess it doesn't matter what time on Friday I get my story up, as long as it's up on Friday, huh?

Anywho, time for writing with Selma again... this time around she has given us the prompt, The Olive Tree. I thought maybe I'd have to veer off the story with that one, but then I typed it into google, and ta-da! Here we have it:


Since Mitch had taken over my bed and Paul had the computer desk (kinda hard for him to do web searches without it), my sad fate was to enjoy the hardwood rocker we had drug in from my parent's room. At least I had the orb to fiddle with, trying to discern what the markings meant, careful not to put the two pieces together. What a boring way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Our parents were pretty freaked out over Kate and asked us to stick close to home. We were pretty freaked out too.

Not that we'd admit it.

"Moooooom! Joey's friend has his feet on the bed!" a little girl's voice sang outside my bedroom door.

"Make it go away," Mitch moaned, flopping his head back on my pillow.

I chuckled at Mitch clutching the sides of his head mimicking a migraine.

"Welcome to the world of big families," I shared. "Hang out over here, and you'll see what you 'only child' people have been missing out on."

The door opened just enough so my 8 year old sister, Liberty, could peep her nose into my room again. I pressed my fingers to my lips, indicating for Mitch to keep it quiet so that Paul's continuous click-click of the keyboard and mouse buttons were the only sounds in the room. She edged in a little further. I winked at my wincing friend, letting her face lean in a few more centimeters before speaking loud enough to make her jump.

"Lib, go get us some of Mom's cookies, 'kay? Leave Mitch alone."

Liberty opened the door enough to stick her tongue out at Mitch before slamming the door shut. Paul snickered.

"Missing out?" Mitch sniffed. "Maybe on insanity..."

"Oh, I don't know. It's not like I was one of the older ones. With it being just her and I around here most of the time, it's not too bad."

"Like I said..."

"Hush up," Paul snapped from my desk. "I think I found what Kate was looking at."

A pack of ravenous wolves couldn't have been as fast as we were crowding around the computer screen. The pieces of the orb dug into my hands.

Paul had conjured up a genealogy website called The Olive Tree. There was my Grandfather's name, Joseph May, listed among others including a Lance Martin, four names above his.

"What's this a list of?" I asked.

"OSS members," Paul answered. "There's all kinds of OSS junk on this site. Look, you can even view their sabotage manual, since it's been declassified."

A few clicks of the button brought up a Footnotes link to a page in the manual he mentioned.

"Cool. Where'd you find this?"

"Your mom," Paul admitted, blushing. "I remembered she and Mrs. Johnson liked to do that genealogy stuff together."

"Yeah, kind of a hobby with them," I admitted. "Kate probably asked her mom how to search this kind of stuff."

"Yeah, well, I didn't want to ask Mrs. Johnson, what with Kate in the hospital and all, so I asked your mom. She was right - this site is incredible."

Mitch whistled through his teeth.

"So Gramps really was a secret agent, huh? Cool!" Mitch nudged me hard.

My head was wheeling. So many questions.

"Does it say what his assignment was?" I found myself asking.

A few more searches came up with impossible amounts of documents to search, nothing too specific. Mitch drummed his fingers on the back of his chair.

"Nooo..." he finally answered. "But if we cross reference some of the information, maybe we could come up with a contact for Lance Martin. Since he said he had served with your Grandpa, maybe he could tell us. Or, we could get on a message board and make a query..."

"Wouldn't Kate have already thought of something like that?" Mitch threw in.

"Yeah, I bet she would have," I agreed. "Check the forums, Paul."

Paul's fingers moved in waves while my heart slammed against my chest.

"Yeah, she's got a few queries out there. Some comments have come back, too."

Another click of the mouse revealed the same information Kate had looked at two nights prior.
I pointed to the screen.

"And look who's left an email address from Colorado," my voice cracking with excitement.

Lance Martin.


I know - it's short and sweet. :) Now head over to Selma's for her take on the prompt this week! she's always so creative with the prompts, you won't want to miss what she's got going on!

I Did It

A monumental moment - I have completed the prologue and the first full chapter of my y/a novel - the one that keeps coming up in all the prompt writing. It's still pretty raw, but I'm just excited to have forced myself to have this much completed in a month. I just about drove my husband nuts using every excuse NOT to focus, but ta-da... I did it anyway.

Now, it's time to move forward to chapter two...

Smiles all the way! :)

Imagine the best you can!

Image creates desire. You are what you imagine. ~ Gallimore

My Synthesis Paper for the Writer's Week

To get my college credits for the writer's week I had to write a synthesis paper. I couldn't think of a better way than to group all that info. together than to make it into a letter to the reader. Thought I'd throw it on here since it highlights a lot of things.

Dear Young Adult Reader,

I am aware that you are from a very lazy culture, and as such need your brain hooked in much sooner than later. As such, I promise to hook you into my story within the first two paragraphs. By the first five pages into my novel you will not be able to put it down. I will have already woven intrigue, likable characters, and introduced you to a world you will not want to walk away from. I will not start my story with more than two to three characters. It's too confusing for you, and exhausting for me.

I promise to write eight characters in my story, or at least have the eight archetypes represented so that my story moves forward without your being suspicious why. My characters' back stories will be woven in with tangibles and dialogue so that you will feel like you've always known this about the characters instead of me feeding the information to you. Their voices will sound in your head as old friends you can't bear to part with, and instead of telling you how delighted they are, I will show you their delight. Instead of telling you how terrified they are, you will feel their terror. That way you can experience the emotions with the character.

When something happens to my characters to change their lives, I promise to spend a little time on those frozen moments. Every detail of those moments will be shared so that they can become frozen for you too. My characters will learn principles along the plot line, but through natural means instead of trying to force propaganda down your throat. While some propaganda literature is fine, my personal taste is that you learn naturally with my characters, not because I spelled it out for you. This is why I have to keep up with what your world is like at the moment, and keeping the dialogue sounding as if you would say it.

My plot must be plausible, and will answer all those little questions you have, such as, “What does the protagonist want?” “Why?” and “What happens if he or she doesn't get it?” All these answers and more will be answered in a smooth storyline. This is plot. Since I am writing my first book, it will be kept simple, but as I grow as an author, I can promise more complex stories. One book can have several plot lines being interwoven, as secondary characters have a life too.

During my creative process, I will read aloud what I have written to see if the sentence structure flows. I will even role play to make sure I have the movements of characters correct. During my everyday life, I will use my character's minds to see how they would react or hear what they would say so that I can stay in touch with their voices. I may break the rules in dialogue, but never during the narrative. This makes it easier for you to read . As a youth writer I realize I must never use an adult voice, but to keep it in a voice that you would have respect for – one of your own.

When a conflict is resolved, something has to be given up to be gained. This is the way life works. However, it doesn't have to be loss of life. It can be loss of friendship, loss of innocence, even loss of respect. It is my responsibility as a writer to respect the natural consequences of the world. I promise not to repeat things in the same story, IE: two murders, two rapes, three muggings. Unless of course we are talking about a serial killer type of thing, but even then it will not be dwelt upon. One frozen moment of a kind is plenty.

To do these things, I make my writing a habit. I clear my mind of all the things life brings that normally clutters my mind. They are written down and placed to the side so I can enter my character's world and be clear on what is going there. I write everyday, so as not to loose the momentum I begin to build each time I sit to write. Otherwise, I might never finish the story!

When the novel is complete, it is a good idea to have my target audience to look over the manuscript and ask them questions. If the response is favorable and when I am finished making corrections, then it is time for me to find my agent. I will submit my manuscript following guidelines that are specific to different agencies, and if I'm lucky enough to get two or more responses, then I need to pick one right then out of courtesy. I will have to be careful and choose an agent that is from a reputable group so that you are not cheated out of my wonderful novel, and I do not become discouraged and bitter. Having an agent will increase my chances of being picked up by an editor, and will bring me more money. I know you are wondering why this is important to you. The more money I make, the more inclined I will be to endure the process again, which results in more wonderful stories for you to read.

Contrary to popular belief, editors are there to help the writer realize their visions. They see a manuscript, and know how to make it better. With the editor, I will rewrite and rewrite and rewrite until the project is a thumbs up. Sometimes I may need to vent, and it's okay to take a day or so to cool off before going back to chat with the editor. I will not blast them because I don't see eye to eye creatively. They are not looking at my creative genius – they are looking at how to sell my genius. After this process, they will have a publicist work with me, and I always have the right to know where my work stands in the publishing process. I needn't be afraid to ask.

In the end, the process will have been worth it because it will end up in your hands. As Edward Necarsulmer IV said, “Everyone has a book. Not everyone writes it. That is not what inspires people.” Tracy Hickman at the banquet shared that he had a soldier wheel up to him where he was signing books. The young man gave him his purple heart, because he had been inspired by the Dragon Lance Chronicles to be a better soldier and ended up saving lives. This is why I put myself through the time and agony. I may or may not inspire you to be a better solider, but I hope you are a better person for having read my material. That alone is why many authors write. I am one of them.

Sincerely,

The Author

Square Your Shoulders and Get Movin'

I just happen to love this movie line from the new Star Trek Movie:

"I dare you to do better." ~ Christopher Pike

A Soft Answer

Writing with Selma.... Our prompt this week is A Soft Answer. Sorry this is getting posted a little later than last week - things have been a little nuts around here. Which results in not my best work, and a continuing story instead of a new one. For those of you who remember, I am referencing back to the WWII piece I did awhile back - yeah - they all fit together.

Since everyone wanted to know what happened next from last week, here we go:

deviant art by Sweet-Grape-Muffin

"Joe, maybe you should visit the bathroom."

It took me a minute to understand what Paul was saying. After wondering if he'd blown a gasket after Kate's attack, I noticed he was staring at my midsection. That's the first time I became conscious of Kate's blood dried into a crust on my hands. My gray t-shirt and the knees of my jeans were covered in large carmine stains, a few shades darker than those shirts they wore on the original Star Trek.

"Mrs. Jenson?" he motioned towards Kate's mom in the ER. "She about fainted when she saw you. Go wash up."

I stood from the chair I'd been sitting in since the police had me sit there for questioning, my muscles stretching on their own.

"Where's Mitch?" I asked, my brain registering for the first time how empty the room was. I hadn't noticed his absence.

"I sent him out to get you a shirt. Might as well throw that one in the trash. It's a prop right out of a horror movie."

I shot him a look of hate, walking past. Watching Kate lose consciousness was a horror movie. Moron.

"Sorry, Joe. I didn't mean," he retracted.

"Yeah, I know." I didn't want to hear it. "Tell Mitch where to find me."

I strode into the bathroom, feeling for the first time the last few hours weigh on me. News that Kate was in stable condition did nothing to relief me when the rest of the news had been delivered. A basilar skull fracture. Close observation, but stabilized. Cat-scan scheduled. The doctor's responses had hammered themselves into my memory for instant recall.

I tore the shirt over my head, tossing it into the garbage, hoping the action might rip away the fears that were nailed in place as well. What if I hadn't asked her to go look up that stuff for me? What if it wasn't a burglary? What if, what if, what if?? I pumped the foaming soap vigorously, noticing it turned rust brown in my hands. It was a relief when the water ran clear, so by the time Mitch found me, I was pretty clean from the waist up.

"Hey. Got a shirt for ya."

In the mirror I saw one of my shirts that I knew had been laying on top of my dresser for home. I arched my brow in question.

"Yeah... Paul thinks of everything, you know? When the cops called our parents, he asked the guy if he'd tell your mom to bring a shirt. Which, I gotta tell ya, Joe, you looked like hell."

I grunted as I held out my hand for the shirt. I didn't feel like myself. I didn't know how Paul or Mitch could be so.... normal. Of all people, Kate was not the person that should be in the hospital. Kate, who was always on top of things, who prepared ahead of time, who was anal about being walked to her car, or always screaming at us for jaywalking because it wasn't safe. People like her didn't get attacked. She knew self defense. Why didn't she use it? A lump formed in my throat making it hard to swallow.

"So are you going to stare at it all night, or are you putting it on? 'Cause standing here in the men's room with you just ain't my thing, ya know?"

I rolled my eyes at him, pushing the white t-shirt with the word brainfrizz printed across the front over my chest. I couldn't help but smile, remembering Kate's jokes about it the last time I wore it. Settling the edges over my pants, I felt my hand brush the phone in my hip pocket. Curious, I whipped it out to look at the time, and noticed the silent alert of a phone message. From Kate.

"Uh, Mitch, go get Paul."

Mitch shot me a puzzled look, but didn't argue. He shot out of the bathroom headed back towards the ER. I pushed the green button, wincing when Kate's whispered voice echoed out of the phone.

If you'd answer your phone I wouldn't have to leave all these messages! There's a marriage in Hammelburg, 1943. So Joey, that puts your Grandpa there at the same time. But that's not where your dad said he was, so I cross referenced Lance Martin. You remember - the guy we met who said he served with your grandpa in the Pacific? Anyway, he comes up OSS, which then I looked up OSS officers, and there was your grandpa! Only his name wasn't Joesph May. So I... crap. Alejandro's on his way over, so I better shut down. Call you later... To replay this message, press one. To delete...

I played it two more times, listening to the soft spoken answers that only brought more questions. By the time Paul and Mitch returned, I was past feeling, rage burning away any sense of self I had left. Kate's recorded message confirmed it.

The attack was our fault: mine, Grandpa's, and I had no doubt, Lance Martin's.



Hope you enjoyed. Now head over to Selma's for her take on the prompt HERE. She's already given the prompt for next week... oughtta be a fun one!

Empty

deviant art by newMico

Dear Diary,

Sometimes, I feel empty.

Where before I couldn't fit more joy, love, excitement and grace into my heart and arms, now I only have ghosts to grasp.

My brain tells with me it's illogical. It isn't possible. It's all a matter of attitude.

Still, my heart withers, the dried weed that it is.

Somedays, are like today.

No matter the affirmations I chant, no matter the solid effort to smile, no matter the acts of love I throw in, no matter the countless scriptures I gorge myself on... Somedays, it's all I can do to close the door on the world, throw myself in bed, and weep.

And hope tomorrow, might not be like today.

Maybe, the sun will shine brighter. Maybe, my heart will be filled again.

Why? Because it always does. Eventually. Sometime. The playground may be empty today, but it takes no time to fill up. At some point, the swings will be high in the air, the slides covered with laughter, and park benches filled with smiles.

So it is with my heart. It's all about timing.

Too bad Joey's timing sucks.

Trish


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Free Associations

There is this place called Unconscious Mutterings where you can do free association. I did one on the poetry blog and turned it into a poem. I wanted to do a few more, with the intent to use as some prompt writing - it helped to get my thoughts flowing. You might get a good laugh looking over these - or you might realize some of my darker secrets. Anyway, I'm posting them because I am going to use them - I did 10 for now. That's 100 word associations - but they're a quick read. :)

1. Divorce :: nasty, sometimes necessary
   
2. Napkin :: manners
3. Camera :: photography
   
4. Leather :: old west
   
5. Fractures :: hospitals - yuck!
   
6. Flip out :: I'd be flipped out if one of my kids got a fracture!
   
7. Coroner :: someone I never want to meet.
   
8. Atomic :: bomb
   
9. Liz :: Taylor
   
10. Leave :: ing on a jet plane!

1. Nudity :: Hollywood
   
2. Domestic :: Goddess, homemaker
   
3. Burp :: rude
   
4. Baby :: cuddles and coos
   
5. Dateline :: news
   
6. Retract :: newspapers spreading lies again
   
7. Suppose :: assume
   
8. Surreal :: real seems not real
   
9. Infidelity :: jackass (sorry - Texas roots coming out!)
   
10. Token ::video games
    

1. Hockey :: boring
   
2. Twirling :: it was fun
   
3. Montreal :: Canada
   
4. Better :: happier
   
5. New :: exciting
   
6. Rally :: noisy
   
7. Stanley :: and the big book of everything (TV show)
   
8. USB :: ports
   
9. Scouted :: indians
   
10. Cough :: oh hell, not again
    

1. Nursery :: lots of babies
   
2. Side effect :: drugs
   
3. Heart to heart :: I hate those kinds of talks
   
4. Try :: there is no try - only DO!
   
5. Hog :: stinky
   
6. Symptom :: illness
   
7. Collide :: pain!
   
8. Fury :: tornadoes and me
   
9. Incorporated :: business
   
10. Summer :: grass

1. Vex :: Jane Austen
   
2. Relapse :: I never want one
   
3. Twinkle :: stars, and eyes
   
4. Crawls :: kids walking like crabs (where did that come from?)
   
5. Optimistic moment :: joy
   
6. Cage :: how I feel
   
7. Superwoman :: who I want to be
   
8. Personal :: this meme
   
9. Vapor :: wispy
   
10. Grocery store :: I want more money
    

1. Again :: and again and again and again
   
2. Shower :: soap
   
3. Flirting :: fun!
   
4. Moving on :: sad - who's left behind?
   
5. Rachel :: my sister-in-law
   
6. Chips :: crunchy
   
7. Texting :: annoying
   
8. Feel better :: hallelujah!
   
9. Cashmere :: expensive - I want
   
10. Sucked :: jerk

1. Avoid :: the dishes.
   
2. Castle :: Redbeard's home should be
   
3. Episode :: tantrum
   
4. Limited :: oppression
   
5. Nail polish :: sparkly
   
6. Dip :: A sign on the road I didn't observe. OUCH!
   
7. Share :: something I'm always telling the kids
   
8. Damage :: something I have to pay for
   
9. Improper :: something I usually said
   
10. Handle :: that's Redbeard's job (take that either way you want)
    

1. Soul :: spirit
   
2. Fold :: laundry
   
3. Breakup :: teens
   
4. Will :: desire
5. Fond :: like, but not especially
   
6. Powers :: Superfriends
   
7. ho-hum :: many of the people I know
   
8. Hustle :: move people!
   
9. Avenue :: strolling down the...
   
10. Tower :: The Two Towers, LOTR
    

1. Lease :: I hate renting.
   
2. Dead :: alive
   
3. Removed :: why?
4. Broke :: Frustration, anger
   
5. Lips :: full, soft, shiny
   
6. Flight :: stairs
   
7. Three hours :: church is over!
   
8. Give :: take
   
9. Technical :: boring
   
10. Hurry :: up!

1. Animal :: furry
   
2. Temporary :: maddening
   
3. Moan :: ecstasy (whoops!)
   
4. Rapid :: water
   
5. That’s for me to say :: like hell!
6. City :: dirty
   
7. Bumper :: sticker
   
8. Eclipse :: moon
   
9. Problematic :: people's paradigms and attitudes
   
10. If? :: Only... sigh.

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Quotes I Enjoyed

"Talent is a dangerous word. If you think you have it you won't rewrite enough, and others don't think they have it and quit too soon. No gift is polished without work." ~Robert McKee, Story

"Write a little bit everyday and don't give up for 10 years. If you give up you'll never publish." ~Anne Lamott

"Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor." ~ Anne Lamott

"You cannot ask the question which is more important, plot or character, because they are the same thing." ~ Robert McKee, Story

These quotes were taken at the conference, so if someone finds an error, let me know - I was writing fast. I looked them up online to verify, but didn't see them. They might be out of conferences the speakers had been to. :S


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A PHD in Plotting

~ I'll have to share her name later - it's not on this page. ;P

Please remember these are my NOTES from the Conference - some are sketchy. They're here for me, but if you run across them and find them useful, then that's great!

1) Ask, "What is my story about?" It's got to be something original - at least, original to you.
2) Where to start? "The Life of Pie" Begins whens?
3) What does the main character want? (his object of desire)

Object of desire can be split into two things:
-Concrete object
-Emotional object

Must have these to start a novel.

Make your character likeable. Your main character needs to be a "hero". Some examples of reasons to like are:

courage
cleverness
altruism
a big dream or plan for self depreciating
in jeopardy
love and are loved
sense of humor

Then give your character a flaw... make him or her real.

Now ask:

Why does your main character want the object of desire?

What happens if he doesn't get it? (have more show, not tell)

Why else does he/she want it?

Keep it simple for the first book.

How does your main character struggle? This is 90% of the book. He/she needs to try and fail three times in a book.

When is it hopeless?

How does it end?