Pages

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Countdown to the Year of Yi Chou



I had to chuckle. Here's the Beatles cartoon attempt at success writing books not music:

paperback writer


2009 - the year of the ox and signs pointing to prosperity. So will it be a good year all around? - the signs are there. Numerology, astrology or just plain wishful thinking - any way you look at it it's going to be good - I've put the vibe out there.

Happy New Year!!

Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com

Monday, December 29, 2008

Miracle in the Home Stretch


Like hoar frost on a tree, time is so fleeting. And every once in awhile we're reminded of that at least as far as our goals and ambitions and the daily time constraints we wrestle with to get it all done.

It's as 2008 runs out of steam that I realize my goal for the current WIP is heading into a time vacuum. Despite early mornings and meeting my write every day goal, it's going to be nip and tuck to finish the final draft by year end. Fortunately, it was a tentative goal, a goal really only made to self. One of those over-ambitious goals where there's a larger chance that an extension might be needed rather than a shout of "goal met!"

But - it's not over yet. There's still three days left in 2008 and it's back to work, if not to finish, to at least make a noticable dent in that WIP.

But like Nanowrimo last month - anything is possible!

How are your end of the year goals? Accomplished them all - or like me - looking for miracles in the home stretch?

Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com

Sunday, December 28, 2008

He Cried

I have to admit I have seen very few of the men in my life cry. I've never given it much thought until today. As I struggle with how the hero and heroine in my current story will ever resolve the impasse they are at, it came to me - Jon cries. I know that sounds simplistic but you've got to know Jon. He never cries - ever! This is huge and emotionally binding for the characters.


And then I went through my life and the men who have passed through it or are still in it and through all the heart-wrenching moments I remember few tears. I remember only two events ever and they were a long time ago - my grandfather and than once, my father. And that's it! And both times it was short lived unlike any of my female relatives or friends. Most of the women I know are criers given the right circumstance. But for the men in my life, unbelievably I remember no other tears.

Can that be possible. Do men just not cry? Has our society been that restrictive? Or worse, do they cry but that's why there's a lock on most bathroom doors.

Seriously, is a man that shows emotion to the point of tears, sexy - or just too much?

Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com
From the Dust

Saturday, December 27, 2008

Flatliner Alert - Said is Dead

Today I'm wearing my reader hat and I envision that it's lettered in pink with the word "ANNOYED." Because for more times than I want to count I'm ready to throw a book to the side before I've reached the end.

No blood!
No guts!
It's mid book and I have no connection with either of the main characters.

I've read a lot of writing advise while wearing my writer hat and one thing I read was that said should be sprinkled liberally as a reader just skims right over he said, she said. And apparently it keeps the poor fools on track. Okay, it didn't actually say that but it implied that a reader couldn't follow a conversation.

Wait - let me change the hat, to the one that says reader "ANNOYED."

Not true!

There is nothing more distracting than the liberal use of; said, stare, felt or any other verb that is so blandly generic that it says - well, nothing about the character. And yet that's what I see much too frequently. That and words that explain what the action already has. You know of what I speak. "She waved in recognition." Hold the phone people. Waved? Didn't that mean she recognized? Did I really need to be told that it was in recognition? I hear the distant nails screech down that imaginary chalkboard as I'm yanked from fantasy land.


So where was I? Right - I'm forcing my way through the latest flatliner. Yes, a book with no depth - a flatliner. The writing allows me to only skim the surface without ever getting to know a character. But I forge ahead and it's the slowest read of my life. Every word has become a painful plodding sort of torture, yet this is a romantic suspense. Worse, this is no beginning writer. The book is a bestseller and I expected more. Nor is it the first of its kind that I've felt like tossing before the end and sadly, probably not the last.

Do I expect more because of big name reviews, author status and the publisher? Probably I do. And if that's the case, why are flatliners happening with disturbing regularity? As readers have we lowered our collective bar? When I'm leaving more books unfinished than finished there's something wrong.

So what's wrong with this latest literary fiasco? Well - a little delving and it's not too hard to find for it's on almost every page. There's more telling than showing and as a result the characters feel lifeless and directionless and almost to compensate, there's a whole lot of repetition. Worse, there's no feeling at all for the antagonist and the story's all about the horror he/she is inflicting on the characters. It's as if the author never knew the antagonist either or maybe that's harsh. Whatever the reason, the omission has literally pulled the heart from the book.

Now don't get me wrong - it isn't all bad. I have my fave authors that deliver over and over again with a good read. And don't forget the up and comers that have sweated over every word to deliver a good product in a tight market.

Yes there's good books out there and they populate the bookstores in well-deserved glory. And than there's the others...

As a reader what's recently bugged you about a book?

Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com
From the Dust

Friday, December 26, 2008

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

Yesterday, my maternal grandparents sat side by side on the couch and softly sang a Christmas carol in long-wedded unison. My bachelor uncle, a lone wolf, an independent with incredible stories and great life advice, recounted the story of riding on the top of a boxcar looking for work and laughed at his youthful folly. My paternal grandmother chuckled at the mention of playing another board game and leaped to her feet to be the first one to the table.

That's how I remember them, at least how I remembered them yesterday. They're all long gone now but, whether we realize it or not, the memories they left shaped those of us left in one way or another.

You can see the past in each one of us left. A mannerism similar to a great grandparent. An eye color that isn't like anyone else in the family - except - anyone remember great Aunt Mable? You get it. We're not as unique as we'd like to think and not just genetically. It's not just about relatives gone, it's all those that have crossed our paths or even some that haven't. It's all been done before by those that came before. And maybe the past isn't as quiet as we'd like to think.

I know it's not so quiet when I write. When I'm searching for that illusive emotion, the moment when the questions arise.
How is the character affected?
What are they feeling?
How will they react?

And when there's nothing in my experience to grab, one of those voices from the past speaks up and says, "Remember when..."

Because it's all been done before; the bad, the good and the just plain ugly.

But does the past blend with the present or is it a collision of wills?


Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Rain or Shine

I've promised myself that I will write every day. And beginning today, Christmas day, I write. I'm feeling rather smug with myself too. After all I managed to write today the busiest of all days for many people. Of course, I have to consider the advantage I have. The bulk of festivities for our family are Christmas Eve and again later this afternoon and this evening. The morning, for now, is mine. So much for being smug, that just slid into the bucket of undesirable emotion from whence it came.

Today, I was out with Rourke, going for the inevitable dog walk. Rain or shine, cold or heat, with the exception of a few very cold days, we walk. Why? Because although some days I don't want to go, once I'm out there I enjoy it. And we both need the exercise. But it takes motivation to do it. And even a dog can be an effective motivator, of course Rourke isn't an ordinary dog, did I mention he's Irish?

Today what motivates me is the Doors Greatest Hits, one of this year's Christmas presents. I know Jim Morrison died before I was old enough to even appreciate who he was but his music is so earthy it's almost erotic, and I think timeless. What better background music to write a romance by!

And while it may be a tad sappy there's alot of truth in these quotes - Click here for a dose of perseverance.

Ralph Waldo Emerson said it best:
"What you persist in doing becomes easier. The task hasn't changed...
Your ability to do has increased."


What motivates you to persevere?


Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com