YOU KNOW MORE THAN YOU KNOW YOU KNOW

“Write what you know.” “Write what you read.” I bet there is not a person reading this who hasn’t heard those words. I’m here to tell you, you know more than you know you know.

If you read romance, it has created a comfortable nook in your mind where you can go to escape. You know where everything is located in your cubbyhole and can pull it out whatever you need. It is your place and you know it well.

If you read science fiction, you know what a believable alternative world is. You read it – you know it.

I read fantasy almost to the exclusion of everything else. Therefore, I must write fantasy. When I started writing, I knew I was a fantasy writer. What else could I be?

Along the way, something went wrong. Three and a half years into my writing “career”, I don’t have a single completed work of fantasy. (To be fair, the fantasy story I am “working” on is a novel. I have six “scenes” written, but that is as far as I have gotten.) I have written romantic-adventure. A shape shifter story. A serial killer story. I have a Zombie, two life transition/redemption stories and a science fiction story. I have written a non-fiction piece about my tour on a submarine. I have a gangster story. Most shocking, I have written nine poems. (I have no idea where they came from.)

It is easy to see that some of the above are loosely related to fantasy. But, what about the others?

It turns out, I know more than I knew I knew.

I have been receiving Newsweek and US News and World Report for years. I receive two computer magazines. I have been reading non-fiction that includes tight, concise writing.

The others, (the gangster, romantic-adventure, serial killer, and the redemption stories) come from TV and MOVIES. I firmly believe that if you watch it, you know it.

You know what makes you laugh – you had to choose between Frasier and Home Improvement. How many SVU’s have you seen – hundreds?

You say you don’t watch romantic adventure. Didn’t you love Mr. and Mrs. Smith or the Star Wars series? How about Burn Notice? (Yes, Burn Notice.)

I do NOT read romance. I loved The Notebook movie.

The point is, when it comes to your writing, you know more than you know you know. Use it to write anything you want.

Recovery III

What's new with me? Steve is doing much better now that they've taken out the k-wires near his knees. Enough to let me leave and come home for a few days. My brave boy is an inspiration to me and everyone around him.

The legs are still not as straight as the doctor wants them to be, so we're still cranking those struts until next Tuesday. This is done to two struts per leg in the morning, another two in the afternoon and the last two before bed.

Got great news tonight. He went twelve hours without getting another pain pill. For someone who was constantly checking with me for when his next dose was due, this is a tremendous feat. Today was not as good for my husband. His phone sent Steve's call to voice mail while he was checking his voice messages. Steve was so worried, he called the desk at the house for someone to go look for his dad in the dining room. LOL!!

I have to understand my boy is feeling more vulnerable than we've ever experienced with him. This is hard to grasp and we sometimes tend to take it lightly. However, it's a serious issue with Steve and we have to be very careful to keep the lines of communication open when we're not in the near vicinity.

Obsessed, written by Sandy Istvan

My husband thinks I’m glued to my chair, and I understand that. Almost daily I spend five hours or more writing. Call me obsessed. My characters are more familiar to me than friends and neighbors. I tell them what to do and save them from disaster; help them fall in love and console them when their relationships fall apart. Must be how God feels about His misguided flock.
In the past twelve months I’ve submitted two manuscripts to two publishers. And you guessed it; both were rejected. Ah, but rejection doesn’t daunt me; at least not for long. I just guzzle coffee and begin the hatchet job. Words that end in ‘ly’ are taboo. Can’t use the words was, were, had, has. If you search for such inappropriate wording and highlight it, an amazing crazy quilt of color enhances your pages. So it’s hack and substitute; hack and substitute. Sometimes it’s helpful to invert a sentence here and there. Why write ‘she was a beautiful young woman who had a lot to learn’?? After all, ‘men remained a mystery to the gorgeous babe’ says the same thing – doesn’t it?
After a time, the substitutions come automatically. But then the writer runs across the limited selection of replacement words. Say ‘had’ for example. She had a headache. Try ‘her head pounded like a trip hammer,’ or maybe ‘her head hurt so much she couldn’t see straight.’ More colorful, right? More interesting. Also more wordy, and therein lies the rub. Oh it’s a great pastime, this word folly.
I imagine seasoned authors spend a lot less time with word play. They’ve learned all the right words – even the proper off-color phrases their salty detectives and floozy females speak so well. As I said, I have a lot to learn. Gotta go – my lovers are waiting for me to send them to bed.

Book Reviews

Several years ago, for a short period of time, we had a regular spot on our meeting agenda for book reviews. Newly published or years old, it didn't matter, as long as the book was "new" to the LCRW reviewer.

I'd like to revive that agenda item here on the blog. There are a couple reasons for this. All are personal: I don't have to worry about a blog topic and it gives me an excuse to read for pleasure or research. Anything to get away from editor work.

For my first effort, I offer John Sanford's "Heat Lightening" a police procedural set in Minnesota, the second in the Virgil Flowers series. I learned about B.C.A. officer Flowers while listening to the audio version of Sanford's latest Lucas Davenport "Prey" story. Virgil is a younger, handsomer version of Lucas--to quote Mr. Flowers.

I had feared I might find myself cuddled up with a clone of Lucas, but soon realized that Virgil is a character all his own, and vastly different from the smart mouth, sarcastic Davenport. Don't get me wrong, Virgil's got a mouth on him, too, particularly when he discovers the next in a long line of ex-wives. Not yet 40 he's been married 3 or 4 times; must be the influence of his minister father [marry them before you ____ them]. Rather than a former hockey player, he's an outdoorsman who quotes Virgil, Camus, and Proust and is better known around Minneapolis and St. Paul for the naturalist articles he writes for magazines which attract fans who hunt, fish, trap etc for fun, profit, and relaxation. Plus, an occasional quote from the Bible.

Add to all that an interesting mystery that has me turning the pages. I appreciate a book that you can't put down, don't you?
Kat

Recovery II

My son, Steve, is slowly recovering from his bilateral tibia/fibular osteotomy with application of Taylor Spatial Frames. This is his opinion. The opinion of the medical professionals - his orthopedist and physical therapists - is that he's moving along rapidly and with great improvement. His recovery speed is up to him.

I, myself, see improvement in his walk, his ability to maneuver between the chair and bed, as well as his mental state. He's holding up pretty well, but is upset when he encounters what he considers set-backs. These would be the temporary inflammation of the pin sites, or stiffness of his knees. This is to be expected with this type of surgery. However, Steve wants to be well and on crutches NOW. He's beginning to see how 'human' he really is.

The hardest part of all this is learning to hold my tongue. Steve's feeling things he's never felt before, and not just physically. He's feeling vulnerable. With vulnerability comes harsh words, snapping and general crabbiness. In such close quarters, it's hard to not react or respond back with equal venom.

We stop turning the struts on the frames Saturday night. That would be twenty days of turning 6 struts. Hopefully as the bones knit together, he'll be in less pain and find his mental equilibrium again.

More again next week.

For the last six months I have been taking a Creative Writing course at Monroe Community College. I have been reading non-fiction, literary short stories and poetry. On my own I read The Help by Kathryn Stockett – a wonderful summer read – and a book a friend recommended. (Twice I tried to finish it. Twice I failed. She is still a friend, but is no longer allowed to make recommendations to my reading list.)

There were numerous handouts and assignments in the assigned text – Metro, Journey’s In Writing Creativity. The point is, I had not been the Captain of my reading list in a very long time.

A couple weeks ago, with ten poems ready for submission, I picked up The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss.

What I found shocking was the physical reaction I had within the first ten pages.

I can only describe it as how I felt on a Thanksgiving leave from the Navy. I was sitting in the living room, my dad in “his” chair, my nephew playing with Match Box cars on the floor. Mom was in the kitchen whipping up a feast and the smells where overwhelming me.

The feeling of being home is a physical thing as well as emotional. Fantasy is my home.




Let's start a collection of "You could be a writer if."

You may respond to this blog and I will collect them and send them out. (Credited or non- you're option.)

To get things started, I have included one of my "IFs"

You could be a writer if:

• When stopped at a traffic check-point, rather than ask what is going on, you ask for the back-story.

Recovery

Recovery comes in many forms. It's the healing of the mind, body and spirit. My son, Steve, is recovering from surgery on his legs. This will be a long process, as we adjust the struts holding the bones to either lengthen them in one direction and shorten them in another. All this to make his legs straight so he can walk, run and play without pain. The recovery isn't and won't be without its share of pain.

We have intermittent times of pleasure when he's feeling fit and without much pain. Our time together is enjoyable. Then there are the days where the pain sets in, and it's hard to walk or even move. These are the days when prayer is all that gets me through them. When he's in pain, he lashes out and I'm usually the closest target. What I need to remember is he's in pain and really doesn't mean it. I need to let it go and stay calm and not react.

Not reacting is the hardest thing. Every action has a reaction. We've been taught that all our lives. Yet, reacting is not necessarily the best thing to do in some cases. Sometimes we need to think and decipher if a reaction is appropriate. What a hard lesson.

So far, Steve's progress is good. He's impressing the physical therapy staff with his achievements. However, some of these achievements come with a price of soreness and stiffness the next day or two. Today we start our second week of therapy with the pool session. He really likes that because he can usually walk without assistance.

Post-Surgery Blues

It's been a little over a week since my son's surgery. He's doing wonderfully, making great strides in his recovery. There are some drawbacks, however. The pain medication made him sleep all the time, so he decided to back off on the dosage. This was great at helping him stay awake, but sitting for long periods of time were never his strong suit.

He's impatient to get up and moving, but the long periods in bed, in the wheelchair or in the arm chair tend to make his knees stiff, his legs sore and swollen. Naturally, this frustrates him and he lashes out. The target usually is me, his mother. I try my best to help him move, but if he snaps at me, I may move too quickly or with jerky motions. This causes pain and he talks as if I'm intentionally hurting him on purpose.

I know intellectually he's just venting, but with the stress and strain of longs days keeping him company and pushing his wheelchair up and down the steep walkway between the Ronald McDonald House and the hospital, my nerves are strained as well. All I can do is pray to God and his best friend to help him through his frustration and to keep us both sane. It hurts when he tells me he's scared for what'll happen when his dad goes back home for a few days. He's afraid I'll just keep hurting him and put all his hard work in physical therapy back weeks, not days.

So I want to thank all my friends for all their support and ask that you bear with me through this. I'll be making more phone calls than I have lately, you can be sure of it. It's so heartbreaking I'm almost tempted to talk with the RMH social worker about finding someone for me to talk things over with. My husband isn't much help in that department.