In the waning of the year

pexels.com | Tom Fisk

(I wrote this for my turn on my Lake Summerset Writing Gals blog, but it’s doing double duty this month.)

Cold weather tends to put me in mind of warm fires, hot mulled wine and poetry. Sadly, I have no fireplace. (But I can always put that Netflix fireplace video on my TV.) I can manage the wine, or maybe hot chocolate, and I always have poetry.

I still remember the day I discovered Robert Louis Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verses in the kids’ section of my hometown library. One of my favorites was “My Shadow.”

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.
– Robert Louis Stevenson

At one point in my life, I memorized “My Shadow” and a few other verses in the book.

When I was in high school, John Lennon’s poem, “The Toy Boy” appeared in McCall’s Magazine. I cut out the page, memorized the poem, and took it on the road as my entry for our forensics club in the poetry category. (Back then forensics meant speech team, not CSI.) I think it’s still in my filing cabinet, but I haven’t looked for it in years. I did manage to find a post of the original image on Pinterest. I printed a copy and it’s hanging on the wall near my computer.

I just discovered “December” by Joseph D. Herron. I don’t know much about the author, but it felt right for the snowless chills we’ve had lately. The poem is included at one of my favorite websites — DiscoverPoetry.com. Another site I like is PoetryFoundation.org, which publishes Poetry Magazine. Both sites feature a poem each day; you can subscribe for free to have them emailed to you.

(Illustration by Sharon P. Lynn)

A third favorite poetry site is the Haiku Society of America. I love haiku, a traditional Japanese form of poetry. Like English sonnets, haiku has a specific format: seventeen syllables in three lines of five, seven and five. I was taught that the original haikus, before they even had that name, were supposed to be about nature. Today, at least in English, that rule has been abandoned. I’ve also seen variations on the seventeen-syllable format.

My first writing successes came in the newspaper business. But my first printed work that wasn’t nonfiction was poetry. I submitted several to my college literary magazine. A long-ish free verse took first place one year. A few of my haikus were also selected for publication there and in other small-circulation volumes.

I’ve never entirely abandoned my interest. I think my “old-year’s resolution” will be to read at least one poem a day before I start my own writing. I think it inspires me to write with all my senses. Maybe it will inspire others, too.

Back in class

The Sisters in Crime Guppy Chapter offers a variety of classes to its members every year. I just finished one about story structure last week that has not only helped me chart a path for my revision of a NaNoWriMo draft, it also led to a breakthrough on a plot hole. The former is due to James M. “Jim” Jackson who has developed another great Guppy class. The latter is thanks to my writing pal, Llewella Forgie, who spent some time brainstorming with me at the end of a writing session.

The class also left me with a notebook of great lectures, homework assignments and miscellany that Jim recommended along the way.

I also bought a couple of the books he talked about that I thought deserved my additional attention. And I decided I needed to reconsider a few characters. So I bought books about that, too.

The week before the two-week class started, I was lamenting to a few of my local writing group gals that I thought I had the wrong plot for the characters. I was considering scrapping the whole book and giving the plot elements to a completely different main character in another book, also a NaNo draft. (I have about a dozen drafts in various stages from participating in National Novel Writing Month.) The gals can vouch for the dismay I was feeling at the time.

Then I took the class. Talk about eye-opening. I tend to operate by “feel” when I throw my first drafts together. Some might consider what I do an elaborate outline rather than a draft. I firmly believe that you can’t fix what isn’t already on the page, so I do consider the NaNo stories to be my first drafts. But, unlike some, I have no illusions that they’re ready for prime time. They are, in fact, big messes. The goal of NaNo is crank out 50,000 words in 30 days. Sometimes pantsers like me run cold during the month. But, as one of my NaNo buddies says, if you get stuck, bring in the ninjas. Well, my NaNo drafts are full of “ninjas.”

And cleaning up the ninjas is what I’ve been trying to do with my drafts for the last few years. In each case, I think I have decent main plots, and I liked my characters when they came out of my head. Making them presentable has been my challenge.

Going through the class assignments — they were pretty involved — also convinced me I didn’t like what I’d done to one of my characters. I thought changing her would add drama to the story, but it just made me dislike her. I plan to go back to her original personality and make other adjustments to the plot. Hence the splurging on books about characters.

I still don’t have a finished novel, but thanks to classes, friends and bit of persistence, I hope to have one soon.

A bientôt!

South and back

Just yesterday, I heard a “honk of geese” (that’s not the collective noun, but it should be) and looked up to see two V’s flying southeast over my house. That annual flight pattern always makes me think it’s time to get ready for winter.

Pexels pic

All month long, I’ve been meaning to do the math to figure out how much farther I’ve faux-walked (treadmill) and faux-biked (stationary) on the virtual trek I started down the Mississippi two years ago in October. Less sedentary folks would have made the journey multiple times by now. But I’ve been too busy to find each day’s tally. I do know I’ve made progress this year, but knowing the actual distance will have to wait. I can already pledge to try to do better next year, though.

I did make an actual car trek to Alabama in the beginning of the month to visit my youngest and his family. (No pix, sorry.) The worst of that trip was the day I–the avowed five-hour-a-day-max driver–was stuck on a highway that I later learned was closed by state police for two hours to conduct a high speed chase. Their high speeds meant turtle pace and stand-stills for the rest of us. I missed an early rerouting that might have saved me some of the nine hours I eventually spent in the car. Threw me off the rest of the ride home. (The visit, by the way, was wonderful.)

Guppy illustration

But the biggest delay in Mississippi River math early in the month was making final revisions on my short story for the Sisters in Crime Guppy Chapter eighth anthology, Gone Fishin’: Crime Takes a Holiday. (It’ll be out in February.) It’s my first fiction publication and I’m probably more excited about it than I should be. But I have always loved short stories. The first fiction I ever wrote was a short story–science fiction–about a lab that reached absolute zero. This one is about a vacation in Croatia that goes terribly wrong for a nanny and her ward. It’s called “Blood on the White Rose.” I can hardly wait to hold it in my hands.

Making the changes the editor suggested (after finishing the ones my critique group suggested) was different. He saw some clear holes, only one of which I knew I hadn’t dealt with well. I hope it’s better now. I have no idea if my post-acceptance experience was typical. But I’m working on another short story, so, with luck, I’ll find out. In any case, it was one of the challenges keeping me from the Mississippi walk math. And I’m anxious to get back to my short story now.

I’ve added two writing sessions to my routine this month. I need more time on task (and, apparently, less doing Mississippi math). And I signed up for the Sisters in Crime November Marathon. With luck, that will help me make progress on my novel! I’ll keep you posted.

A bientôt!

More mystery

(Photo courtesy Library of Congress)

Just about all I’ve been doing lately (apart from the two weeks I took off to visit my son’s family down south — where it was already spring) has been to research the history of the mystery. I gave the talk about it last week, and was surprised that my timing was as good as it was. It fit the two-hour time block just great.

I can’t speak to how good the talk was, but several people said they liked it. I know I had fun putting it together.

While I worked on it, and even as I gave the talk, I kept thinking I was covering 100 years of mystery.

But, in fact, I started briefly before Edgar Allan Poe, who introduced us to the amateur detective C. Auguste Dupin in “The Murders in the Rue Morgue” in 1841. But my research convinced me I had to go back much further to set the stage. In fact, one source suggested that without Voltaire, who in 1748 divided people into two categories — those who observe and deduce versus those who intuit conclusions — we wouldn’t have either today’s detectives or mystery stories.

But from 1748, then 1841, and all the way to this year’s Edgar® and Agatha award winners gets us into the 200-year range. No wonder I felt a little rushed.

At any rate, I hope to give a couple more talks about mysteries. I think the first would focus on cozies. Another might just look at women’s contributions to mysteries. There are sooooo many!

Another possibility might include just “locked room” mysteries. Poe is credited with creating them in “The Murder of Marie Roget.” The “locked room” or  “closed room mystery is a puzzle based on a crime in a place with no apparent exit, yet somehow the perpetrator manages to sneak in and out, leaving, if not dead bodies at least mayhem in her or his wake.

A French mystery writer, Gaston Leroux’s most famous book isn’t really a mystery. He gave us The Phantom of the Opera. But in his 1907 book, The Mystery of the Yellow Room, Leroux expanded on the notion of the locked-room mystery.

Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None, set on an isolated island, is a “remote location” mystery, a variation on a locked-room mystery. She also gave us variations in Murder on the Orient Express, Murder in Mesopotamia, and Hercule Poirot’s Christmas.

Gigi Pandian is another devotee of the locked-room mysteries. Her Under Lock and Skeleton Key (2022) is part of her Tempest Raj series of novels.

I might even consider doing a talk about Chicago and the mystery. That could be fun to put together.

À bientôt!