Affirmation–The Payoff for Hard Work

To those of you who have followed this blog for a while, “Thank you.” I can think of moments when several of you, through comments, kept me motivated, tilting at my windmill–finishing my novel. When I doubted myself, you chided me. When I celebrated a breakthrough, you cheered me.

Besides writing my book, I had another goal: I wanted to share what I was learning with others. I wanted another writer to learn from my mistakes or discover a tool to save time. In that vein, I shared my embarrassing moments or time-wasters, so you could learn. Other times, I shared wisdom from experienced authors, so we all benefited.

Yesterday I received a tweet from youth book author Jim Denney that is one of those special remarks. The tweet read:

“Jim Denney‏@WriterJimDenney @MooreFay By the way you have an awesome blog for writers at https://faymoore.wordpress.com/ . Every serious writer should follow it. All the best!”

Thank you, Jim. If you are unfamiliar with Jim Denney, you can learn more about him here:

Jim Denney Author of the Timebenders series for young readers, beginning with Battle Before Time. Author of the ebook Writing in Overdrive: Write Faster, Write Freely, Write Brilliantly. Visit me at my Timebenders blog site: Jim Denney’s Timebenders and at my blog site for writers: Jim Denney’s Unearthly Fiction. On Twitter: @WriterJimDenney

Vocabulary for Science Fiction or Fantasy Novels

In science fiction and fantasy, there is normally a cornerstone culture, central to the story, that is malevolent. It is oppressive of its citizenry, setting the stage for the rise of a hero, an avenger of the people.

There are two words to describe such a culture:

• cacotopia
• dystopia

Both words define a world that is the opposite of Utopia, or paradise: a world of deprivation, horror and exploitation. Usually the people are enslaved, if not physically, then through economics or some psychological method. Or earth changes, like  global coastal events caused by meteor strikes or the aftermath of world wars, have disrupted normal society and destroyed convenience systems, such as the electrical grid or banking. Whatever the cause, the new world order is a system that grinds those under its bonds to grist.

Now that your imagination is twisting, turning, leaping and bounding with images, get writing!

Want to Create Your Own New World?

The Hobbits of Middle Earth will have nothing on you.

Usually the creation of a new world in literature has a basis in fact. I don’t mean that there is a Middle Earth. I mean that the idea for a fictional place called Middle Earth started with an idea inspired by a real culture somewhere. New Zealand claims to be the inspiration behind the Hobbit story.

Science is presently upending the long-held view about who originally populated the Americas. The old premise is that Asians crossed a land bridge from Russia to Alaska to Canada and turned south, setting up civilizations along the way southward into the South American Andes. The migration took place about 13,000 years ago, science says.

Now, archeology is uncovering, on the east coast of the United States, sophisticated stone tools to match those used in the region around modern-day France and Spain 17,000 years ago. The tools are turning up in places like Pennsylvania and Virginia.

The new first peoples are believed to have been Solutreans. Europeans, not Asians, first settled America, according to the new findings.

That name, Solutreans, has a real ring to it, doesn’t it? These were stone tool-making, western European seafarers who lived on the edge of the biologically rich  ice shelf, much as the Eskimos and other peoples of the arctic regions do today. It is believed that during a glacial period, the mariners put to sea in sealskin boats and hunted their way along the ice from Europe to North America.

Read more about the new findings here: http://www.bostonglobe.com/ideas/2012/03/17/did-solutreans-settle-america-first/9xYYgZLa4iTkGzG4rcM3nM/story.html

Perhaps you’ll be inspired to create a new trilogy about your own brave, new world after reading this. If you do, please give mention to this humble wanna-be for tickling your fancy in the forward of your book! 🙂

More on Drones for Syfy Buffs

I clipped this from a forum on the subject. Since this portion from the chat gave a link, I am posting the remarks and the reference here. Those writing science fiction, futuristic or fantasy stories may find this information helpful.

Swarms of cyborg insect drones are the future of military surveillance

The kinds of drones making the headlines daily are the heavily armed CIA and U.S. Army vehicles which routinely strike targets in Pakistan – killing terrorists and innocents alike.
But the real high-tech story of surveillance drones is going on at a much smaller level, as tiny remote controlled vehicles based on insects are already likely being deployed.
Over recent years a range of miniature drones, or micro air vehicles (MAVs), based on the same physics used by flying insects, have been presented to the public.
The fear kicked off in 2007 when reports of bizarre flying objects hovering above anti-war protests sparked accusations that the U.S. government was accused of secretly developing robotic insect spies.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/a…lance.html

After writing this post, I stumbled onto a humorous video about microbots, including a photograph of a mosquito-sized drone that can extract a DNA sample from a human covertly. As TheTrutherGirls says, “Get a fly swatter and screens!” Enjoy the video!

And just to feed your paranoia, here’s a video from a NSA whistleblower. He confirms the government’s program of domestic intelligence collection. Just think of all this stuff as research for your novel about nanobots and their nefarious controllers. :-p

The Origin of the Fantasy Genre Is Noble

Fantasy Masterworks: The King of Elfland’s Daughter.

I am not a fantasy reader or writer. But after spending time reading the post I’ve linked from the blog Fabulous Realms, I am tempted to give the genre a try.

An Irish lord created the genre. That, in itself, seems  ironic, since the romanticized life of princes, princesses, lords and ladies dominates the imaginary world of fairy tales and fantasy worlds. It seems most fantasy readers want transported into a royal realm to vicariously experience it. With Lord Dunsany, you have a nobleman capturing his own culture using the fantastical. His escape is no escape at all.

I was encouraged to read that Dunsany refused to be restrained by genre in his work. He was a versatile and creative writer, with works including fantasy, drama, poetry, science fiction, prose and autobiography. According to Fabulous Realms, Dunsany’s surviving published works exceed 80.

Yet, I was floored to learn the skill of this 20th Century author. Once he imagined a tale, he may practice it orally before an audience. But once he started to write–by hand–his manuscript, he rarely rewrote it. His first draft was the draft which ended up with the publisher.

He had an interesting writer’s ritual. He wrote sitting upon a crumpled hat. It’s as if it were a magician’s hat, conjuring up rich vistas and characters to populate Dunsany’s story. As the story goes, the hat was stolen by a visitor to Dunsany castle.

My guess is the thief was cursed, if not with a pox, then certainly with bad dreams, where the thief is chased to his death by dragon-riding elves.

Need a nudge this morning to get the writing started? Take a moment to read about writing Lord Dunsany-style. I think you’ll be bewitched.

Here’s the Link to Preview the Anthology

http://www.amazon.com/Writers-Desert-Cafe-An-Anthology-ebook/dp/B00ARYTOYC/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1356216202&sr=1-1&keywords=writers+of+the+desert+rose+cafe#_

Clicking on the link takes you to the cover and a brief look inside the first few pages of the new Anthology. Coincidentally, my work appears first in the book, so it is my work that is open to be read as part of  a free preview. Talk about pressure. If my work doesn’t nab a reader, then the rest of the authors may never get read. My work has to convince the site visitor to buy the book.

We priced the book at an affordable $2.99 because we want many people to take the chance to buy the book, then read it.

Remember, if you purchase a copy of the book and have constructive feedback for any of the authors, please share it here. The book is the first product of our writers group, reflecting our growing as writers. You, as reader, matter to us and we want to hear what you think, good or bad. Just make the critique constructive so an author can improve based on what you say.

 

 

The Anthology Is Going to Press

Within the week, the Writers of the Desert Rose Cafe Anthology will be in the hands of Acorn Book Services for formatting. Within the month, the e-book will be available for sale on Amazon.com.

The anthology integrates the varied writing interests of the authors into a fast and easy read.  There’s something for everyone: young adult to inspirational to fantasy to adult fiction to poetry to ultra-short story (such as 33- or 55-word stories). Whatever your tastes in reading, the anthology offers enough variety to satisfy.

Sound like an advertisement? It is.

Naturally, I hope you will read the anthology and share feedback with me. Your feedback helps the writers of Desert Rose Cafe to improve and grow. Criticism is welcomed when it is meant to help.

The project itself drove several of the authors out of a comfort zone. Writing within a group setting is very different from writing alone. For a couple of the writers, the process of publication is a first experience. Others have years of creative expertise. One of our own developed the book cover with group input. Members assumed varying responsibilities such as editing, content organization, setting timelines and the like. The satisfaction of bringing the projection to completion is almost at hand.

As an aside, one of our authors has Asperger’s Syndrome, a developmental disability that affects one’s ability to socialize and communicate effectively with others. Can you imagine the huge satisfaction that writer is feeling right now?

Now the marketing begins, along with the next learning curve for some of us. When the e-book is available to purchase, I’ll share where to buy it.

As I learn what works and what doesn’t on the marketing side of the venture, I’ll share those lessons, too.

Later, ‘gator.

The Psychology of the Sociopath as Minion

I’m obsessed with bad guys because I love writing about them. In order to write about them, I learn about them. I study where and how they live.

In science fiction or historical stories, there is ALWAYS the character that stands out for his willingness to oppress others on behalf of the boss. In exchange for doing the dirty work, the story’s minion receives a benefit, usually a modicum of power or an elevation of status or income.

The current TV character who comes to mind is Captain Tom Neville, played by actor Giancarlo Esposito. Neville is a former insurance adjuster turned militia leader under bloody General Monroe in TV’s saga Revolution. Neville will turn on his peers, getting them tortured and demoted, to advance himself. Yet he is fearful without the structure and protection offered him by Monroe.

As an author, it is important to be accurate when writing about the personality. Although the variety of personalities is numerous, the personality type is fairly fixed.

So what does psychology say about these overzealous minions? What are common traits among sociopath sycophants?

In the normal work-a-day world, he will likely screw-up regularly or use chaos to camouflage his childish character. He is seen as sleazy in the community or office. He will set aside morality or abandon principle if it is to his advantage to do so. He is drawn to a culture of corruption where questionable acts done on behalf of superiors advance his status.

Once he is given authority, he will demand respect from those under him, even if he doesn’t deserve it. He savors weakness in others. He will use title or force to exact submission from the weak under his jurisdiction. Show defiance to his authority and reap the consequences of his ire. He will abuse those weaker than himself.

There is no room for discussion or disagreement. It is his way or off with your head. In the face of reason, this minion will attack. Yet to preserve himself, he will avoid conflict with someone who may best him.

This character loves rules, regulations, and rigid structure. He seeks total control of his environment. He will twist the legal system to fit his own logic. He loves to force compliance on others.

Behind the facade of power, the sociopath minion is a follower, unable to operate without an elaborate system or leader to guide him. He is cowardly at his core: a follower, not a leader. The more bureaucracy clutters the landscape, offering him regulations to twist or hide behind, the better. He likes the smokescreen of obfuscation.

The minion draws his power from the ruling entity. Therefore, he supports the powers that be wholeheartedly. He disregards the rights or unique value of the individual. Control is easier to maintain in the absence of individualism. Therefore, he prefers the group mentality and will promote that sort of thinking. He cannot imagine functioning without an establishment to direct him. His self-identity comes from being part of it, not independent of it.

The sociopath as minion may wear a state uniform and wield power by turning in citizens for minor infractions of the rules. A tyrant or an oligarchy relies on him to grab and maintain control. He relishes being useful to and part of the machine. He is obsessed with continuing the power that gives him meaning. No bad act by those ruling will shake his devotion. He is a willing tool in the hand of his master.

Portions of trait description adapted from Brandon Smith of Alt-Market 

An Enchanted Forest Ride

For those who are curious about what one does with a classical song prompt, you aren’t alone. I was curious, too. I was surprised where my imagination took me. I think I was as much influenced by the name of the Geminiani piece–La Foresta Incantata–as the music itself.

The genre of the story is a departure from anything I have written before. Is it a dream? You decide.  So here goes:

An Enchanted Forest Ride

by Fay Moore © 2012

“I’ll be back for dinner,” the master called out to his manservant, as he rode his horse across the courtyard cobblestones, heading for open field. The master saw the servant’s reflection in the rippled glass of the manor house window, in his hand the ledger that he had been reviewing with the master for several hours. The reflection looked like a man dressed in a floating sheet.

From atop his horse, the master admired the finely chiseled ears on the head of his prize stallion; ears forward, the horse attended to the direction the lord of the manor was steering him. The woods loomed ahead. As the master recalled his steward’s ghostly specter in the window reflection, his neck hairs tingled.

The owner of the equine settled deep into the curve of the leather seat, relaxing his back, pelvis and legs to float upon the saddle in tune with the motion and gait of his mount.  The tension that built up through the hours spent in accounting flowed down through his loosened frame and out the bottom of his stirrup-cradled soles, where breezes carried the bad energy off into space.

The day was magical. A cold front pushed all heat and humidity from the air. Neither man nor horse perspired as the sun beat upon their backs. Zephyrs blew both creatures’ hair, lifting and dropping tresses in waves, the same way ribbons flutter from the end of a lance.

Sensing the tempo playing in the air, man and horse began to move in union with it in a slow, deliberate canter. The rhythmical rocking of the rider crescendoed with the hoof beats of the stallion. By the time the pair entered the cutaway into the forest, they were galloping.

Once inside the shade of the forest canopy, the duo felt the air temperature drop. The freshness of the air and of the horse’s spirit urged the animal faster into a dead run. Birds flushed in droves from the bushes, but the pair ignored the feathered bursts. Dirt clods flew into the air, flung aloft by pounding hooves. The man loosened the reins to give the horse its head. Ahead in the path, a small tree was down. Horse and rider sailed effortlessly over the log in one motion, a union of body and spirit. Off to the left, a herd of deer, thrashing through the understory, scattered like a burst of fireworks. The horse dashed on.

 Ahead the lord spied a shaded opening in the trees. He felt drawn toward the space. He slowed the horse to a walk, patting the animal’s powerful neck. The exhilaration of the run caused both man and horse to breathe deeply.

In the opening, the master dismounted. The air glittered, amazing the man. He rubbed his eyes. The horse yawned. Their breath took shape and sparkled in clouds before them. Overtaken with a sudden urge to sleep, the horse folded its legs beneath itself and dropped to the soft, cool earth. It stretched out its neck and rested its jaw bone on a mound of grass. The man followed suit, sitting on the ground and leaning back against the prostrate animal. As if cast under a spell, both were soon snoozing.

Out of fallen hollowed logs and half-standing snags at the edge of the opening, or descending by spider-silk from leafy bowers in the treetops, a troupe of ragtag phantoms and sprites appeared. A shade stood by the head of the horse and a shadow by the head of the man, each casting dream dust when the sleepers’ eyelids fluttered. The others poured over the prone bodies, emptying the man’s pockets of two gold coins and gleaning half-chewed corn from between the horse’s teeth. Six tiny hands grabbed a loose thread in the man’s woven vest and pulled, unwinding the wool. A team of specters wound the thread into skeins and whisked the rolls away. When their work was done, an apparition looking like a fairy waved a wand above the sleeping pair. The magical troupe disappeared in a flash.

The sun was falling fast toward the horizon, and shadows were growing long. The gentleman was confounded that he had slept. What earlier seemed an enchanted space, now grew chilled. He leaped to his feet as the horse surged up from the ground. Wasting no time, he hoisted his toe into the stirrup and pulled himself up into the saddle.  Reins in hand, he spun the horse on its heels and spurred the steed. Shaking off its supernatural drowsiness, the animal plunged through the woodlands, racing for its barn.

Feeling cold, the horseman glanced down and spied his  vest was missing. Only a wisp or two of the distinctive yarns remained, caught in his belt buckle. As the dusk deepened, there was no time to sound the depths of his confusion. He bent at the waist, tucked himself as close to the body and neck of the horse as he could, and rode for the manor as if ghosts were chasing him.