Reader Friday: Word Games

Do you know what my favorite part of the game is? The opportunity to play. —Mike Singletary

* * *

There seems to be some evidence that playing word games is good for your brain. Some people say it’s like a workout for your little gray cells. According to Dr. Oriana Cornett of St. Joseph’s Health

Incorporating puzzles and word games into your daily routine can be a game-changer for your brain health. These activities are more than just entertaining; they’re tools for maintaining and enhancing cognitive function and boosting mental acuity in a variety of ways.

Some of the areas of benefit she lists are

  • Improved Problem-Solving Skills
  • Language and Vocabulary Growth
  • Mental Agility

That’s great news for readers and writers (and for everybody else.) But whether word games improve brain function or not, they’re fun to play. Some I like are

  • Crossword puzzles
  • Wordle
  • Spelling Bee
  • Scrabble

I also have a few apps on my phone that are fun to play whenever I take a minute or two to relax. These include

  • 7 Little Words
  • Elevate
  • Wordbrain

 

So TKZers: Do you play word games? Do you think word games are good for brain health? What are some of your favorites?

 

Conversations With the Dead

“To attain wisdom, you must converse with the dead.” ~Pythia at the Oracle of Delphi to Zeno of Citium

On the surface, that’s a strange statement. It’s downright weird and completely impossible if taken literally. But I don’t think the Pythia at the Oracle meant this as anything but a metaphor or aphorism. I think she simply advised Zeno to gain knowledge by reading the words of long-gone writers.

Zeno of Citium (334-262 BC) was the founder of stoic philosophy. A literate man of his time, Zeno was a Cypriot merchant who suffered a shipwreck, lost everything, and washed up on the Greek shores near Athens. He found his way to the Agora (market) and into a bookshop where he discovered the recordings of Socrates.

Zeno was deeply moved by Socratic logic and critical thinking skills. This led him to start a school of wisdom and teach his ideas to students in the Stoia Poikile (Painted Porch) in the center of the market. Zeno’s followers were called the Stoicoi, now known as Stoics.

One of Zeno’s fact-finding trips was to the Grecian city of Delphi on the slopes of Mount Parnassus. Here was the Temple of Apollo where the Pythia at the Oracle of Delphi—a revered and sacred high priestess—channeled messages from the gods to mortal humans. Ancient Greeks believed the Oracle, hosting the Pythia, was the very navel (omphalos) of the world and a spiritual axis through which mortals could consult the divine.

The Oracle’s historic visitors included kings, generals, and philosophers covering hundreds of years. Thought leaders from across the Mediterranean pilgrimaged to Delphi where the Pythia rambled trance-like riddles to be interpreted by the truth seekers. According to a National Geographic special, the Oracle was a rock fissure that emitted psychoactive vapors and that the Pythia was, in fact, quite stoned when she uttered inspirations.

Regardless of the truth of the trance, it’s well recorded that Zeno was at the Oracle of Delphi around 300 BC and received his cryptic message, “To attain wisdom, you must converse with the dead.”

There is profound wisdom in this message when you consider it objectively. Learning from those who’ve gone before us is a powerful life tool. Take the inscriptions (translated into English) in the architrave of the Temple of Apollo entrance:

Know Thyself” — a call to self-knowledge and humility.

Nothing in Excess” — a warning about hubris.

Surety Brings Ruin” — a caution about overconfidence.

The Oracle of Delphi symbolized a truth that transcends time. Wisdom doesn’t come from answers alone. Wisdom arises from the questions we dare to ask and the honesty with which we face ourselves. Such as having conversations with the dead.

Personally, I’m thinking of two deceased men I can gain wisdom from. I have, but have never read, the memoirs of Winston Churchill and Dwight D. Eisenhower that I inherited from my father. This post motivates me to dig in.

Kill Zoners — What books do you recommend we read that are wise conversations with the dead?

Will You Read From Your Book, Please?

By John Gilstrap

I enjoy speaking to crowds. I like the immediacy of it, the direct interaction with the audience. I’ve previously shared tips and insights on how to deliver more memorable presentations (memorable in a good way–not the way we remember Uncle Henny’s drunken wedding toast). Today, I want to address a specific and mostly painful corner of every author’s public speaking life: the live reading.

Personally, I don’t get the attraction of readings. As a consumer of books, I’m much more interested in learning about the author and his process than I am in hearing him give what is almost always a bad performance of words that I’m going to read for myself anyway.

Said bad performances fall into two major categories for me:

  1. The dreadful, droning monotone of an author who seems somehow surprised by the words he’s projecting to either his feet or his lap. If he’s been given a microphone, he’s holding it in the hand that is also holding the book, rendering it useless. If they’re only moderately bad, they’ll be done in 10 minutes, but because Murphy rules the world, the really bad ones will mumble on for 20-25 minutes. When they’re done, the always polite bookstore audience will reward them with a golf clap.
  2. The pretentious literary author who took elocution lessons from Henry Higgins himself and over-enunciates every syllable of his golden prose that may or may not tell an actual story. When he’s done, his students in the audience will reward him with cheers and a standing O.

There’s a fundamental difference between delivering a speech vs. delivering a live reading.

When I deliver a speech or teach a workshop, I get to be myself. As the subject matter expert for the duration of the gig, I deliver my information my way. The only role I play is myself.

Live readings of fiction require a level of acting which I don’t possess. I feel silly raising my voice to sound like a woman or a child. Acting and writing are related yet entirely different skill sets. Given that this is the entertainment business, nothing makes an audience more uncomfortable than an uncomfortable performer.

When the game doesn’t suit you, cheat.

Remember Kobayashi Maru? In the Star Trek universe, Star Fleet cadets are faced with an unwinnable simulation called the Kobayashi Maru test, in which the cadet has to choose between risking near certain death to rescue the crew of a fuel ship, or leaving the fuel ship crew to die. Captain James T. Kirk made history by being the first cadet ever to solve the dilemma. He did it by changing the program. He cheated because he didn’t accept the inevitability of losing. I always admired that about him.

When I am left with no choice but to read from my book, I do not, in fact, read from my book. Instead, I read an original work that is closely based on my book. That means never reading from Page One. If I did that, people in the audience who already had a book in their hand would be confused as they tried to read along, and they’d miss everything I was presenting.

My specially prepared piece is engineered to be 5 minutes long, give or take ten seconds, and it will end with a cliff hanger. The piece will include within the text all the introductory information needed to know who the characters are, and I will have excised all elements of backstory, and all unnecessary foreshadowing. It’s a stand-alone performance piece that parallels the book’s events and hopefully whets the appetites of potential readers who are on the fence about buying the book.

Because it will be the same piece every time I read for that particular book, I’ll have it largely memorized, so I’ll be able to make eye contact with the audience. Even if I can’t do the acting, I’m still communicating.

What about you folks? What are your secrets to surviving the live read-aloud?

Don’t miss the launch of Burned Bridges–the first book in my brand new thriller series!

First Page Critique: Get Quinn Moving And Out Into That Snow!

Before he was Marshal Dillon, James Arness was the terrorizing ...

By PJ Parrish

I love stories that take place in frozen tundras. Alien James Arness unthawed and on a rampage in The Thing From Another World. Neanderthal Timothy Hutton unthawed and seeking his god in Iceman. The Green Bay Packers vanquishing The Dallas Cowboys in the 1967 championship Ice Bowl game.

Icy climes have been the setting for some top-notch fiction. Maybe it’s the innate drama of the setting, or more likely the potential therewithin to exploit ice as a metaphor. F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 1920 short story “The Ice Palace” is about a southern belle who becomes engaged to a man from the North. She almost freezes to death in an ice palace at a winter carnival, which leads her to rethink the engagement. But ice stands as a metaphor for the differing attitudes of Northerners and Southerners.

Some of my favorites: Smilla’s Sense of Snow with its chilling opening at a Greenland funeral. Jo Nesbo’s The Snowman. And The Hunting Party, where Lucy Foley uses an important trope of the mystery genre: People aren’t always what they appear to be below their frozen surfaces.

And I have to add in here one of the most startling opening lines in fiction, from Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude:

Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice.

Full disclosure: Several of my own books take place in the frozen wilds of my native Michigan, including a scene where a body is found frozen in a lake and a terrifying trip across the “ice bridge” between Mackinac Island and the mainland that plunges my hero Louis Kincaid in the icy depths. So when this submission came across my desk, I was predisposed to like it. Thanks for offering it up, dear writer. I’ll be back in few minutes with my comments.

OUT ON THE ICE
a horror story

Hospital Corpsman Quinn Marie Chambers sat in the snow tractor her medical emergency kit in her lap, watching the other naval personnel and Marines investigating the beached whale. A small group of native Inuits looked on and seemed nervous.

There was little for Quinn to do as long as the other members of the Emergency Response Team didn’t get hurt somehow. She shivered at the cold.

The Inuit guide they called Mac sat in the back seat. He stirred, trying to get a better view of the goings on.

Quinn sipped warm coffee from her thermos cup and watched Chief Petty Officer Selsman trudge toward the big snow tractor. She finished her cup and poured another for him.

A nasty wind ladened with heavy snow and particles of ice blew into the cab when Selsman opened the driver-side door.

Quinn handed him the cup. “Beached whale?”

“Maybe.”

“What do you mean?

“Someone put nine bullets into its head.”

“Murder?’

“Maybe. Not sure if you can actually murder a whale.”

Mac said, “This will anger Qalupalik. This is an unnatural death. This will dirty her hair.” He shook his head in resignation.

“Who the hell is Qalupalik?’ Quinn asked.

“She is—”

“—a legend. A Greenland fairy tale. She is the monster in the deep protecting sea life. It teaches children not to screw up the ocean,” Selsman said.

Mac held his chin up and crossed his arms..

“Don’t worry about it. NCIS will be here soon to investigate to see if any of our personnel are involved. If not, it’s not our problem.”

In the back seat, Mac quietly chanted an Inuit prayer for the dead whale.

The two Marines on the team high stepped through the snow and wind toward the tractor. One held his hand wrapped in a handkerchief that had blood stains on it.

Quinn scooted over to let the marine have space to sit down. She tended to the wound. “How did this happen?’

“I was digging a bullet out of the whale’s head and my knife slipped.”

“Did you get the bullet?” Chief Selsman asked.

The marine smiled. “Damn right I did. And I bagged and tagged it as well.”

“Gotta love a good marine,” Selsman said.

“You should throw that bullet back into the ocean so Qalupalik can confront the killer with it,” Mac said.

“Can’t. It’s evidence,” Selsman said, starting up the tractor’s engine.

___________________________________

First off, I like the concept here. I mean, a dead whale isn’t as sexy, crime-wise, as a dead human being. But the fact the whale has nine bullet in its head is pretty cool, but more intriguing: Why do these Marines care? So I was definitely willing to read on. Good original set-up. Haven’t read this one before.

Some other good things: The writer handles dialogue well. It’s easy to follow, clean and I like the clipped no-nonsense tone of the Marines. It feels authentic.

But. Here’s the one thing I didn’t like: The protag’s detachment. The clue is right there in the second paragraph: “There was little for Quinn to do as long as the other members of the Emergency Response Team didn’t get hurt somehow.”

She is watching. She is waiting. She is doing nothing. All the interesting action is happening apart from her. Now, here’s the problem: She is not an active part of this investigation. Her job is medical only. As the writer puts it, she can do nothing but sit there unless someone gets hurt. So right from the get-go, she is positioned as a passive character by the circumstances.

How could this have been fixed? Not sure. And it’s not up to me to rethink or rewrite someone’s story. And it’s not terrible the way it is. I just wish there was a better portal for Quinn to enter the story, grab the spotlight — and our attention. So I am going to ask the writer to step back and look for a different angle, a different perspective on this scene unfolding.

It could be something as simple as changing the order of events. Does Quinn HAVE to be sitting in the snow tractor waiting? Wouldn’t she be more interesting if basic curiosity moved her to go out and see the whale for herself? Maybe, dear writer, you entered your story a beat too late. Maybe you need to back up and have her out there on the ice with the others during the initial discovery?

What would that do to improve things? You eliminate distance and detachment. If she’s OUT THERE you can give us a description of the whale and the scene (right now we have none). If she’s OUT THERE, she can see for herself the whale’s head. Instead of you saying she is watching (passive) the marines investigate “a beached whale” you can have her OUT THERE thinking (active) “This was no beached whale. Someone had shot the whale in head.”

A couple years ago, a pygmy whale washed up on a California beach with a bullet hole in its head. True story. I will spare you the gory photos here. (here’s the link) but it would have made for a very bloody dramatic scene for Quinn to witness and describe for readers.

Quinn needs to see it. Quinn needs to feel it. Quinn needs to tell us what she is experiencing. The last place you want her to be is inside a vehicle, drinking coffee and waiting.

Make her a hero. Even if there is not yet anything heroic for her to do. You need to set her up as a potential hero. Active, not reactive.

Then, as she views this massacred whale, a marine gets cut and she finally has something to do. Maybe this then can provide contrast to her feeling of impotency, of NOT being a part of the action.

Two other problems: First, where are we? There is one reference to “Greenland fairy tale.” Does this take place in Greenland? Where exactly? Because you’re dealing with Marines, I assume we’re near Pituffik Space Base (formerly Thule Air Base). This is way up north and operated by the U.S. Space Force. It is one of the most strategically important military sites in the world.  (Hence its presence in our political news). You must find a way to establish this. It can be handled easily through Quinn’s thoughts:

They were at least twenty miles from the air base at Pituffik. There wasn’t a village or a single hut anywhere near this isolated beach. They were 750 miles from the North Pole and the nearest settlement, Qaanaaq, was more than 70 miles away.

Second problem: You really need to spice up your description. Such a fabulous setting. Such a gruesome “murder.”  Yet you don’t give us any sense of what it looks like, feels like, SMELLS like. (dead mammal on beach!). Again, we’re taking about the difference between telling and showing. Don’t tell me it’s cold; show me. Don’t tell me the Inuits “are nervous.” Show me via their actions, through her consciousness.

This is a good first draft, dear writer. With a re-positioning of Quinn and some vivid description (use all the senses!), you’ll have a stronger opening. Some quick line edits follow. My comments in blue

Hospital Corpsman Don’t open with a title. Find a way to slip in later, more artfully what she does. Her ACTIONS should do it. Quinn Marie Chambers sat in the snow tractor her medical emergency kit in her lap, watching the other naval personnel and Marines investigating the beached whale. A small group of native Inuits looked on and seemed nervous. This opening graph is passive. Why not opening with a vivid description of the corpse? Then surprise us by telling us, through Quinn’s thoughts, that it’s not a MERE beached whale.

There was little for Quinn to do as long as the other members of the Emergency Response Team didn’t get hurt somehow. She shivered at the cold. A little lazy; what does this cold FEEL like? Where is she from? Maybe this godforsaken Greenland cold feels completely different than the cold in her native WHERE? Never miss a chance to compare and contrast and to slip in a nuggest of her backstory.

The Inuit guide they called Mac sat in the back seat. He stirred, trying to get a better view of the goings on. More distancing. 

Quinn sipped warm coffee from her thermos cup and watched Chief Petty Officer Selsman trudge toward the big snow tractor. She finished her cup and poured another for him.

A nasty wind ladened with heavy snow and particles of ice I know you can do better than this. “nasty wind” is cliche. Has she been in this climate/place long or is she new here? Frame it through her experience and consciousness blew into the cab when Selsman opened the driver-side door.

Quinn handed him the cup. “Beached whale?”

“Maybe.”

“What do you mean? Again, she is passive. And you’ve deprieved the reader of SEEING THE ACTUAL SCENE! 

“Someone put nine bullets into its head.”  Bingo! This is where things get interesting. This should be like the third paragraph of your opening.

“Murder?’

“Maybe. Not sure if you can actually murder a whale.”

Mac said, “This will anger Qalupalik,” Mac said. This will dirty her hair.” He shook his head in resignation.  Great line! Let it stand there alone for a second.

“Who the hell is Qalupalik?’ Quinn asked.

“She is—”

“—a legend, Selsman said.. A Greenland fairy tale. She is the monster in the deep protecting sea life. It? teaches children not to screw up the ocean,” Selsman said.  Love how you brought in the Inuit lore.

Mac held his chin up and crossed his arms.. Not sure what you’re going for here? Anger? 

“Don’t worry about it. NCIS will be here soon to investigate to see if any of our personnel are involved. If not, it’s not our problem.” Who’s talking? And you need to start dealing with Greenland officials or at least bringing it up. Whales are both hunted AND strictly protected in Greenland. They would be obligated to immediately notify proper authorities.  

In the back seat, Mac quietly chanted an Inuit prayer for the dead whale. Unless Quinn understands Inuit, she wouldn’t have a clue what he’s chanting about. STAY IN HER POV. She can think that he seems to be chanting or singing but she can’t really know, can she? That is YOU the writer talking, not the character. Again, stay in her POV: What does it SOUND like? Don’t tell me he’s chanting; describe the sound.

The two Marines on the team high stepped through the snow First mention, btw, that there’s snow on the ground and wind toward the tractor. One held his hand wrapped in a handkerchief that had blood stains on it.

Quinn scooted over to let the marine have space to sit down. She tended to the wound. “How did this happen?’

“I was digging a bullet out of the whale’s head and my knife slipped.”

“Did you get the bullet?” Chief Selsman asked.

The marine smiled. “Damn right I did. And I bagged and tagged it as well.”

“Gotta love a good marine,” Selsman said.

“You should throw that bullet back into the ocean so Qalupalik can confront the killer with it,” Mac said.

“Can’t. It’s evidence,” Selsman said, starting up the tractor’s engine.

So, dear writer….again, thanks for submitting. I enjoyed reading this and want Quinn to claim her spotlight. And make this setting a “character” in itself. Remember what Smilla said: The Inuits have a hundred words for snow. You need more words! Would love the see your next attempt. Keep writing!

 

Should You Use Profanity in Your Writing?

My guest today has a fresh perspective on the use of profanity in fiction. Should we? Shouldn’t we? Is there a happy medium? Please help me welcome one of the most supportive writers I know.

If you’re unfamiliar with Joy York, she grew up in Alabama but has spent much of her adult life in the Midwest, currently living with her husband, Terry, and their golden doodle, Loki, in Indiana. Inspired by a family legacy of oral storytelling, she began creating stories and adventures for her son when he was growing up. With encouragement from family and friends, she began to write them down.

Her first book, The Bloody Shoe Affair: A daring and thrilling adventure with the jailer’s daughter, a YA mystery set in the rural south in 1968, was published in 2015. It became a series, The Jailer’s Daughter’s Mysteries, when The Moonshine Murders, Book 2, was released in March 2024. Genuine Deceit: A Suspense Novel was published on Amazon in May 2021. Protective Instinct: A Thriller (World Castle Publishing) was published in January 2024.

Welcome to TKZ, Joy!

Thanks, Sue!

Whether or not to use profanity in your writing has been a much-debated subject. In recent years expletives have become much more prevalent in writing to add realism. Some more conservative thoughts are that profanity of any kind detracts from the quality of your writing and should not be used under any circumstances. Others feel it reflects poorly on your credibility.

In an article published by Nathaniel Tower, Managing Editor of Bartley Snopes, Should Writers Use Profanity? he offers some excellent guidelines. He agrees that it can add realism but using too much can lessen the quality. Context is key. It can enhance real life situations portraying rough, gritty characters and emotionally charged scenes. He cites Wolf of Wall Street as an example of liberal use of profanity to depict the “high-stakes and fast-paced atmosphere.”

It is important to consider your purpose for the use of expletives. Is it for shock value or to show explosive emotions in a scene or is it to show your character’s edgy personality? Gratuitous use can take away from your story and put your readers off. You must consider your target audience.

Most other resources agree with Tower’s assessment of when not to use profanity. Children’s books, fantasy, and academic or informational writing. Other include religious writings.

Cole Salao wrote an article for TCK Publishing, How and When to Use Swearing. He believes you can learn a lot about your characters personality, background, and mood from their choice of words. To ignore the language that would portray a gritty character would make them sound unrealistic. My interpretation is if you have a scene with a drug dealer getting ripped off by a buyer, I doubt he would say, “Please sir, give me the money you owe me before I get really mad.”

Salao’s lists some appropriate uses:

  • Emotional Impact
  • Swear words can be used as an enhancer. It can depict emotions like anger, frustration, and extreme joy.

Establishing Voice or Tone

  • It helps define your character and adds authenticity.

Connecting With Your Audience

It can make the reader feel like the writer is having an honest, unfiltered conversation with them. It can especially work well with personal essays, memoirs, or blogs. Don’t forget the audience you are trying to reach. Beware that some cultures and regions interpret words differently.

Salao’s Tips for usage

  • Use profanity intentionally. Will it fit or ruin your purpose? I love this quote he uses to explain his meaning. “Think of it as a seasoning. A little enhances the flavor, but too much can overwhelm your readers and dilute your message.”
  • Less is more.
  • It should be natural to your character’s personality, though using it to show them breaking a rule or making an out of character statement can make an impact.
  • Check your publication guidelines.
  • Sometimes using subtext instead allows the reader to fill in the blanks.
  • Swearing is usually only used in non-fiction if it is a personal story, quoting accuracy, or emphasizing a point.

Ultimately, whether you decide to use profanity is up to you. If done well, it can add authenticity, emotion, and impact to your word.

I have used profanity sparingly in my two adult thrillers. In one book, I felt it was natural to the characters and situations to show heightened emotions in a scenes. In the other, it was to show contrast in personalities between characters. I received a review challenging me to not use profanity in my future books, but they gave me a very good review. Another gave me a good review but warned others in the text that there was some language. I suppose I will never know if anyone put my books down when they read the first swear word.

Have you used profanity in your books, or do you steer clear?

When self-absorbed, international bestselling author Sebastian Bartoli refuses to write the biography of the infamous, mob-connected Maximillian Fontana, the consequences turn deadly.

Check it out on Amazon.

 

 

 

Connect with Joy:

Website: https://www.joyyork.com

OnX @joyyorkauthor

BlueSky @JoyYorkAuthor.bsky.social

Facebook: Joy York Author

Instagram: @JoyYorkBooks

LinkedIn https://www.linkedin.com/in/joy-york-5050aa11

Thesaurus Love

by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

Let’s give a little love to the poor thesaurus. Because there’s a bit of writing advice that’s been floating around long enough to become a critique-group axiom. It has to do with the work of Mr. Peter Mark Roget (1779 – 1869) and the throwing of shade thereon.

I trace this back to an article written for the 1988 Writer’s Handbook (which sits on my shelf) by one Mr. Stephen King. It is titled “Everything You Need to Know About Writing Successfully—in Ten Minutes.”

In said article Mr. King advises not looking at reference books when writing a first draft. Use them later if you wish. Except the thesaurus. “Better yet, throw your thesaurus into the wastebasket…Any word you have to hunt for in a thesaurus is the wrong word. There are no exceptions to this rule.”

A similar edict was issued by the author of Robert’s Rules of Writing (a book I am not gifting to Brother Gilstrap): “The minute you pick up a thesaurus, you’ve muddied the waters. Into the clear running stream of your prose, you’ve introduced a foreign agent. Nothing sticks out in a piece of prose like the words you’ve plucked from those long lists of synonyms, each one more obscure than its predecessor.”

Not that these gentlemen have an opinion or anything. But I wonder, is such unqualified vitriol (or should I say contempt? Or disdain?) justified? I think not.

First, King offered his opinion in the context of writing a first draft. He didn’t want a writer stopping to grab a physical reference book off a shelf, thus breaking “the writer’s trance.” Just make a guess or mark the spot, and look stuff up after the draft is done.

That’s valuable advice for writing in “flow.”

But with the digital tools available to us today, you can find synonyms in under ten seconds. Flow isn’t the issue it used to be.

Second, both of the above authors assume that the word one is looking for is a “fancy” word, one that does not traipse easily into the writer’s mind. That word will always be “wrong” they say, because its obscurity will confound the poor reader.

However, it may not be a fancy word the writer is looking for. It might simply be an alternative to the word that he immediately typed. With a synaptical flex of the brain a preferable word may come easily to mind. But if not, a click opens the e-thesaurus for a quick perusal.

Example: In my fourth paragraph, above, I originally wrote A similar command. I didn’t sound right to me; not precise enough. No writing guru has a warrant to command anything.

So I clicked open my Mac dictionary, typed command and hit the Thesaurus tab. Up came this list: order, instruction, directive, direction, commandment, injunction, decree, edict, demand, stipulation, requirement, exhortation, bidding, request. I chose edict right away. This isn’t a “fancy” word, or a word I wouldn’t normally use. Boom, in it went, and I continued typing.

That’s the value of a thesaurus for me—it reminds me of words I do know but can’t quite put my finger on at the moment.

The thesaurus also gives me a more expressive word when I need it. If I type something like He walked into the room I might want a more descriptive word than walked. I can usually think up something better on the spot, but on occasion I’ll pop open the thesaurus for a quick look.

I also will use the thesaurus when editing my previous day’s output. The other day I was editing a short story about road rage, where I’d written that a character driving a car gave a hefty blast on the horn. A few paragraphs later I wrote The monster truck’s horn blasted. That’s what I call an “echo.” I don’t like using the same descriptive word in close proximity. So up came the thesaurus. I chose blared.

I know there are some who might say that’s too much “work” for so little “return.” To which I have a simple rejoinder: Bosh. (I also could have used nonsense, balderdash, gibberish, claptrap, blarney, moonshine, garbage, hogwash, baloney, jive, guff, tripe, drivel, bilge, bunk, piffle, poppycock, hooey, twaddle, gobbledygook, flapdoodle, crapola or tommyrot. But I digress.)

I’ll take this ROI every time, not only because it pleases me to do good work, but because I also believe most readers, even subconsciously, appreciate the effort. (Now is the time to repeat Twain’s oft-quoted aphorism (maxim, adage, precept, dictum): “The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter. ’Tis the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning.”)

By the way, you might want to hang on to your printed thesauri (yes, that’s a word), for who knows what AI will do to the digital versions? This is not an idle thought. A few weeks ago I was working on a post for my Substack, about the late George Foreman. I ran it through ProWritingAid and it flagged “Foreman” fifteen times, suggesting (in no uncertain terms) that I change it to “work supervisor.”

A final note: I went to the bookstore and finally found the thesaurus I wanted. But when I got home and opened it, all the pages were blank. I have no words to express how angry I am.

Your turn (chance, moment). Do you ever use a thesaurus? 

(Note: I’m teaching at the Vision Christian Writers Conference at Mount Hermon today, so will check in when I can!)

Let Me Tell You a Short Story

I’ve written a few short stories. A couple were included in small anthologies, and in creating them, I realized they required a different technique.

I recently finished one that will be included in the Rough Country anthology I’m editing for Roand and Weatherford publishing. After I wrapped up Where the Road Forks, I remembered talking to Joe Lansdale about that idea and others a few years ago.

Joe is the accomplished and successful author of the Hap and Leonard books that eventually became a television series. Talking over sushi in Nacogdoches, Texas, I asked him about short fiction.

“I really don’t have that many ideas for short stories.”

“You’re surrounded by them.” He waved his chopsticks in the air, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d snapped a fly from the air like Mr. Miagi. The slender bamboo utensils seemed to fit his hand, because Joe is an International Martial Arts Hall of Famer and even created his own style of fighting. Those experiences often show up in his work. “I can prove it. Tell me something that happened when you were a kid.”

I thought about it as a chunk of wasabi burned its way through my sinuses, making my eyes water. The shock that went through my frontal lobes gave me time to think. When I could breathe, I told him of something that happened to my older cousins way back in the late 1950s.

Sporting flattops and one slicked-back duck tail haircut, they were three of the coolest and toughest guys in their little rural community, riding motorcycles and rolling cigarettes in their T shirt sleeves. When they heard Elvis was coming to town, Tom announced to the others they were going to meet the famous singer.

Dick and Harry allowed it was something to do, and they rode their Indians to the Grand Theater where the future king of rock and roll was waiting to go on upstairs in the “green” room at the top of a second floor exterior fire escape.

The boys parked their bikes in a nearby alley and came up to the theater opposite the bright entrance. Stomping up the metal steps in their square-toed boots as if they had backstage passes, they were met at the top of the stairs by the Memphis Mafia who heard them coming up.

One of Elvis’ buddies told them they weren’t welcome.

Harry said they didn’t care and intended to say howdy to Elvis, and they tried to push past the obstacles between them and their hero.

As Tom told me. “We thought we were tough, but those boys were tougher and more experienced. They handed us our asses, and threw us back down the stairs. When we rolled to the bottom, and we dusted off, got up, and went home.”

Joe laughed and took a sip of iced tea. “There’s your short story.”

I came home thinking about it, but haven’t yet written it down. But it’s there, perking along until the day I write the first sentence, “The boys finished their Schlitz beers and decided they were going to meet Elvis Presley, come hell or high water,” or something like that.

Those stories come easier than I expected. Maybe it’s because I write mini-stories every week for my newspaper columns in The Paris News, Country World, and now for Saddlebag Disptatches magazine. They come to mind as a single sentence, and then I watched as my fingers tuype out 950 words in one sitting that will “go to press” the next day. They’re mini-short stories, a snippit of time or experience, in which I give readers a quick glimpse into the view from my own hill.

When we’re working on novels, authors create whole new fictional worlds and can revel in taking their time to describe these worlds and establish character backgrounds and settings. In a short story, we create a can of condensed soup in a sense that, if we wanted to, could sometimes expand into a novel.

I think of them as that tiny world inside a globe, those glass spheres containing a tiny piece of a mythical world. In this case, these miniature scenes don’t always have snow, unless it’s essential to the plot.

Essential to the plot. In short stories, every element, word, character, and bit of dialogue has to be informative, moving the story forward, and must relate to everything else. The logic of the narrative has to be short and concise.

To me, it’s like flipping through the pages of a novel and picking out the necessary bits and pieces to write a book report. A quick read of what could be more, but isn’t.

There’s no room for sweeping descriptions and extensive development. In my view, the author has to know the character’s entire backstory at the outset, and the setting’s history that’s revealed by bits of information dropped in a sentence or two, or as action dialogue tags.

Readers must be swept into these juicy stories with the right words, phrases, and pacing. I suppose it’s like satisfying our need for immediate satisfaction these days. In other words you have about 6,000 words to set up the story arc, very short Acts 1 and 2, before that last couple of pages in which the bombshell drops. In fact, some authors set off that climax bomb in a couple of paragraphs, or even one breathtaking sentence.

Writing short stories is an excellent way to warm up, to refill the creative basket between novels, and to achieve the personal satisfaction of a job well done.

Reader Friday: Hitchcock

 

“Drama is life with the dull bits cut out.” —Alfred Hitchcock

Almost everyone I know has a favorite Alfred Hitchcock movie. I have several that I love. One of them is The 39 Steps. It was an early Hitchcock film (1935) starring Robert Donat as the cool and suave Richard Hannay on the run in Scotland. It’s doubly special because my husband and I spent a few days while in Scotland driving around looking for locations where the film was shot.

Other favorites are Vertigo, Dial M for Murder, Rear Window, and Spellbound. And who can forget the crop duster scene in North by Northwest.

 

 

So TKZers: What’s your favorite Hitchcock film?

 

 

Writers Beware: Here’s what readers really hate

By Elaine Viets

Don and I are moving, and our condo is chaos. I’ve reposted a favorite blog about what readers dislike. Are these your pet peeves? Would they keep you from buying or recommending a book?

Does the novel you’re writing have a long dream sequence? And it’s in italics, to enhance the ethereal effect? How about sizzling sex scenes? And, for comic relief, a talking cat who solves crimes and a wisecracking kid who’s five going on forty?
Uh, you may want to rethink that work in progress.
Ron Charles, the Washington Post book critic, “asked readers of our Book Club newsletter to describe the things that most annoy them in books. The responses were a tsunami of bile.”
Here are some things that Ron salvaged from the tsunami.

(1) Readers hate dream sequences.
Yes, I know dream sequences are a staple of literature. In Crime and Punishment, Raskolnikov has guilty dreams, including one about a whipped mare. In Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, the Boy Who Lived is deceived by thoughts implanted by a bad guy. Winston in 1984 worries his dreams will get him in trouble with the Thought Police. A Christmas Carol is a long life-changing dream. And then there’s Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
So why should we be wary of dream sequences?
Raging readers told Ron Charles this:
“‘I absolutely hate dream sequences,’ writes Michael Ream. ‘They are always SO LITERAL,’ Jennifer Gaffney adds, ‘usually an example of lazy writing.’”
Aha! So readers hate lazy writing and literal dream sequences. Writing coaches caution writers to avoid cheap tricks, especially the old “and then I woke up” dodge. They say you can use dream sequences if the dreams are premonitions, illustrate an important inner conflict, or help a protagonist realize something major. In short, the dreams must advance the plot. So craft your dream sequences carefully.

(2) Readers hate historical anachronisms and factual inaccuracies.
The Washington Post says, “Karen Viglione Lauterwasser despairs over errors ‘like calling the divisions in a hockey game “quarters” or having a pentagon-shaped table with six chairs.’ Deborah Gravel warns authors that taking a cruise to Alaska is not enough to write a novel about the Last Frontier. Kristi Hart explains that when your characters are boiling maple sap to make syrup, they should not be stirring it. ‘You just boil it until the sugar content is correct, and then you’re done.’”
My pet peeve includes the treatment of black people in historical novels in the first half of the Twentieth Century. With some exceptions, until the late 1950s or 1960s, black people were not allowed to eat in most white restaurants or sit at lunch counters with whites. Nor could they stay at white hotels, go to white schools, use white toilets, or even drink out of white people’s water fountains.
In 1968, I encountered my first segregated water fountain, on a trip through Mississippi. In the local courthouse, the white people drank chilled water from a modern metal fountain. Black people had to drink warm water from a dinky white porcelain fountain. At a Catholic church in the same state, my family arrived late for the service, so we sat in the back. An usher told us that section was for black people (actually, he said “Negroes”) and we had to move.
Encountering this segregation was shocking, but it existed, and to deny it in novels is to deny the shame, hurt and humiliation black people suffered – and still do.
(3) Readers hate typos and grammatical errors.
This is also bugaboo for TKZ readers and writers, and we’ve written often about how to catch typos, while understanding those slippery little devils slip into the best books. But typos seem to be getting worse, especially since traditional publishers are cutting back on copy editors and some indie authors don’t hire them.
The Washington Post noted: “Patricia Tannian, a retired copy editor, writes, ‘It seems that few authors can spell “minuscule” or know the difference between ‘flout’ and ‘flaunt.’ Katherine A. Powers, Book World’s audiobook reviewer, laments that so many ‘authors don’t know the difference between “lie” and “lay.’” TKZ’s Terry Odell wrote a helpful blog on that subject. Read it and sin no more. https://killzoneblog.com/2023/03/are-you-lying-or-laying-around.html

Personally, I wish writers would know the difference between grizzly and grisly murders. While it’s true the Cocaine Bear and some bears in the wild do kill humans, in most mysteries humans performing those grisly murders.
And please realize that the South American country is spelled Colombia, not Columbia. There’s more, but it’s not a good idea to get me started.
“While we’re at it,” the Washington Post wrote, “let’s avoid ‘bemused.’ Bemused ‘doesn’t mean what you think it means,’ says Paula Willey.”
And please, please learn how to use “chute,” as in where you toss your dirty clothes. I’ve seen major writers call it a “laundry shoot,” which can put holes in clothes.

(4) Readers hate bloated books.
According to the Washington Post, “Jean Murray says, ‘First books by best-selling authors are reasonable in length; then they start believing that every word they write is golden and shouldn’t be cut.’ She notes that Elizabeth George’s first novel, A Great Deliverance, was 432 pages. Her most recent, Something to Hide, is more than 700.
“But it’s not just the books that are too long,” the WashPo says. “Everything in them is too long, too. Readers complained about interminable prologues, introductions, expositions, chapters, explanations, descriptions, paragraphs, sentences, conversations, sex scenes, fistfights and italicized passages.”
(5) Readers hate long italicized passages.
“‘Long passages in italics drive me nuts,’ Susan Spénard told the Washington Post.
“‘Cormac McCarthy does entire chapters in italics,’ adds Nathan Pate. ‘Only the rest of his writing redeems that.’”
(6) Readers hate when writers don’t use quote marks.
“‘Sometimes you have to reread a passage to determine who is speaking,’ one reader said.
Quick now, a few more complaints:
(7) Readers hate “gratuitously confusing timelines.”
“‘Everything doesn’t have to be a linear timeline,’ concedes Kate Stevens, ‘but often authors seem to employ a structure that makes the book unreadable (or at least very difficult to follow). There seems to be no reason why this is done other than to show off how clever they are.’”
(8) Readers hate two kinds of show-offs.


“Unrealistically clever children or talking animals . . . are deeply irksome in novels — along with disabled characters who exist only to provide treacly inspiration.”
Some cozy readers adore talking animals who solve crimes, so this objection doesn’t apply to everyone.
(9) A few more things readers hate, according the Washington Post:
– “Susan C. Falbo is tired of ‘protagonists who have had a hard day, finally stagger home and take a scalding hot shower.’” My protagonists sometimes do that, so I guess the key here is to not overdo it.

– “Connie Ogle and Susan Dee have had it with ‘lip biting.’ Ogle explains, ‘If real people bit their lips with the frightening regularity of fictional characters, our mouths would be a bloody mess.’
– “Gianna LaMorte is tired of seeing ‘someone escape a small town and rent a large house, get a job at a local paper or make a living gardening.’” The person who flees to a small town and makes a living writing for a newspaper gets my goat. Especially if they have their own office and come and go as they please. Small town newspapers barely pay enough to keep reporters in cat food. And editors want to know where they can reach you at all times.

And I’m with Tobin Anderson, who wrote, “Vomiting is the new crying. I think it’s part of the whole hyper-valuation of trauma — and somehow tears seem too weak, too mundane. But imagine a funeral filled with upchuckers.” I’m seeing a lot of barfing on TV these days, and watching folks toss their cookies while I’m eating in front of the tube makes me want to . . . well, you get the point.
So, TKZ readers, what are your pet peeves?

Bulwer Lytton 2024

Bulwer-Lytton 2024
Terry Odell

Following up Debbie’s post with some more humor, something I think is lacking in our lives these days. I’m sharing some of the winners of the 2024 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. These entries, I believe, are all of the human generated variety. If you’re unfamiliar with the contest, here’s the skinny from the website:

“Since 1982 the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest has challenged participants to write an atrocious opening sentence to the worst novel never written. The whimsical literary competition honors Sir Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, whose 1830 novel Paul Clifford begins with “It was a dark and stormy night.”

The contest receives thousands of entries each year, and every summer our Panel of Undistinguished Judges convenes to select winners and dishonorable mentions for such categories as Purpose Prose and Vile Puns.”


2024 Grand Prize

**She had a body that reached out and slapped my face like a five-pound ham-hock tossed from a speeding truck.
Lawrence Person, Austin, TX

Grand Panjandrum’s Special Award

**Mrs. Higgins’ body was found in the pantry, bludgeoned with a potato ricer and lying atop a fifty-pound sack of Yukon golds, her favorite for making gnocchi, though some people consider them too moist for this purpose.
Joel Phillips, West Trenton, NJ

 Crime & Detective

Winner

**She was poured into the red latex dress like Jello poured into a balloon, almost bursting at the seams, and her zaftig shape was awesome to behold, but I knew from the look on her face and the .45 she held pointing at me, that this was no standard client of my detective agency, but a new collection agency tactic to get me to pay my long-overdue phone bill.
Jack Harnly, Sarasota, FL

Dishonorable Mentions

**Magnus was in a tough spot…the Icelandic Police were pressing him to cough up the name of the top capo in each of the 3 main cities in which the Mafia operated—Reykjavik, Akureyri, and Middelf—threatening to lock him away for life if he didn’t, but he knew that if he ratted out the Reykjavikingur or the Akureyringur the Mob would kill him for sure—so he just gave them the Middelfingur.
Mark Meiches, Dallas, TX

(Personal note: I’ve actually been to Akureyri, but don’t ask me how to pronounce it.)

**That sweltering Friday evening she not so much walked but slithered into my shabby strip mall P.I. office, showing off all her curves, and I knew then I was in for a weekend of trouble because Dave’s Reptile Emporium next door, from which the ball python had escaped, was closed until Monday.
Douglas Purdy, Roseville, CA

**Staring unblinkingly into the pleading, tear-filled eyes of yet another dame looking for me to solve all her problems, I sighed, stretched, scratched my whiskers, stuck my hind leg in the air and bent my spine at a 45-degree angle to reach down and lick my butt clean, then donned my fedora—Taco, Cat Detective, was officially on the case.
Gwen Simonalle, Grenoble, France

There are many more categories. You can find everything here.

Any favorites? Have you ever entered?


New! Find me at Substack with Writings and Wanderings

Danger Abroad

When breaking family ties is the only option.

Madison Westfield has information that could short-circuit her politician father’s campaign for governor. But he’s family. Although he was a father more in word than deed, she changes her identity and leaves the country rather than blow the whistle.

Blackthorne, Inc. taps Security and Investigations staffer, Logan Bolt, to track down Madison Westfield. When he finds her in the Faroe Islands, her story doesn’t match the one her father told Blackthorne. The investigation assignment quickly switches to personal protection for Madison.

Soon, they’re involved with a drug ring and a kidnapping attempt. Will working together put them in more danger? Can a budding relationship survive the dangers they encounter?

Available for pre-order.

Like bang for your buck? I have a new Mapleton Bundle. Books 4, 5, and 6 for one low price.


Terry Odell is an award-winning author of Mystery and Romantic Suspense, although she prefers to think of them all as “Mysteries with Relationships.”