Issue 13

I am sitting outside today on my porch in Grants Pass, Oregon. The sky is partly cloudy with enough holes in the white puffy stuff to allow the sun to warm my face. I guess you could say I am getting my so called “vitamin D shot.”

I understand vitamin D is supposed to be good for you. Doctors claim it fights cancer and other scary diseases. Despite the benefits, I know I shouldn’t stay too long in the sun, because we are told by experts to fear the beast that is melanoma.

The good news is that my wife and I will be heading to the Oregon coast soon for hopefully five glorious days in a rented beach home in the town of Yachats. I am appreciating the slight breeze which touches my face as I look out into the distance, past the huge 100-foot Ponderosa Pines, quaking Aspens and the purple looming mountains on the horizon.

My eyes drift upward to take a scan of the grand, blue heavens poking through thosepartially white and gray clouds. As I start to lose myself in the sky, my breath is almost taken away from the sight of the biggest hawk I have ever seen in my life.

At second glance, I realize it may not be a hawk. The wing span is so large, I am reminded of a one-man glider kites. I think that awesome, floating bird could be a turkey vulture or maybe even a golden eagle. Whatever avian creature circles above me, the message that startles my consciousness in its presence is the importance of rising above all that we fear.

Fear is one of those dark secrets that hold writers, both young and old, captive from all we deserve to become. As a matter of fact, fear can be a force of self-destruction and negativity no matter what hopes and dreams we want to pursue. Let me present a more personal example of my struggle with the darkness that I call “writers fear.”

Almost a year ago in July of 2007, I was reading The Secret by Rhonda Burns. She makes the wonderful point about the “Law of Attraction,” claiming that what we project out from our minds and into the universe we will surely receive; send out the positive and receive the positive; embrace negativity and remain imprisoned by the negative.

The idea came to me as I pondered her formula of asking, believing and receiving. I asked myself: What was holding me back from sending that dusty, 20 year-old manuscript out into the universe?

I experienced an unpleasant twinge in my stomach: I was afraid that what I wrote wasn’t good enough. In a sudden splash of insight, honesty and openness, I told myself to use the skills and principles that help my clients overcome despair, mental illness, addictions, homelessness, poverty and incarceration. I wanted to finish the manuscript I started so long ago. Despite the burst of creative excitement I was experiencing, the inner dark side reminded me that I was a social worker, not a writer.

I took a deep breath for three seconds and slowly let the air out of my lower lungs for six or more. I went through my yoga, tai-chi and meditation routine. I used the “ask, believe and receive” process. I even added my own prayer of going into the Light within, praying, “Thank you God for all that I have and for all that I receive.”

I completed my book about hope and healing just one month later in August of 2007. In December of 2007, I pursued self-publishing. I sold some copies, but knew that what I really longed for was a legitimate publisher. Again, the hydra-head of fear reminded me that the likelihood of a publisher picking up my book is about as good as winning the jack-pot in one of the Oregon Native American Casinos.

For a while longer I danced with the fear monger and did nothing about it. This changed three months ago. After completing my relaxation and meditation routine, I visualized sending my book out to a publisher who would appreciate its value and potential.

I also prayed to my sense of Higher Power called the Love-Light. I actually felt warmth, comfort and the unconditional love of being in the Light. The thought came to me that I needed to send out query letters to established agents and publishers.

I found a service on the internet that would blast out my query letters to 500 agents and publishers. Over the last three months I received 498 rejection notices, and two positive responses. One was from a publisher in New Mexico, and the other was from SterlingHouse Publisher in Pittsburgh.

On June 18 2008, I signed a contract with SterlingHouse. I have no idea where this new journey will take me. I don’t even know what the title of my book will be or how many changes the editor will make. I surely don’t have a clue how to do book signings or how to begin the enigma of the marketing process.

I do know the sky is azure today; the sun is still warm on my face; the mountains always lift my spirit, and the eagle rises above the forces of fear and all dark secrets. Wherever you are, whatever you do, refuse to dance with the negative side that holds you back. Learn the skills to face your stressful feelings honestly and openly.

Find a way to enter the Light within. Then your writing will no longer require tedious work or even esoteric craftsmanship. You will find your inspirational voice and rise above like eagles.

Gary Eby, has a Masters Degree in Social Work with more than 38 years of professional experience. He lives in Grants Pass, Oregon with his wife Susan. He currently works as a therapist and counselor at Options of Southern Oregon, the local mental health agency. Mr. Eby has also provided life coaching on eBay for many years. Contact Gary at qlcoach@getresponse.com. He will listen, remain supportive and provide you with free samples of his positive life change process.

Cunning and cruel, gremlins sulk in dark corners of the mind, waiting in shadows to pounce. They scold and belittle, telling us we will fail, we have no business writing, we might as well quit and do something else. They interpret and judge our past, playing on our fears, and author the debilitating fantasies we sometimes indulge about the future.

Like chameleons and writers, they shift form and attack at varying levels of intensity, their voices echoing through our heads in first-person, repeating the awful words, “I can’t, I won’t,” which can make us equate them with ourselves. Your gremlin might be disguised as anxious behavior or fear of success. Its ferocity ebbs and flows, but it’s always there, lurking in your cellar.

You may never have consciously focused your awareness on its presence, but this is the first step toward locking it down. Like finding the hidden image in a stereogram, noticing your gremlin gets easier with practice. As your skills increase, you will see that you and it are not the same thing: you are its observer, and it has no power beyond what you grant.

Here’s how to notice your gremlin and keep it from climbing the stairs:

• Breathe. I say this a lot, but it’s essential. Breathing feeds oxygen to the brain and raises emotional, mental and physical awareness, all of which help you focus your attention.
• Pay attention to your emotions. If you don’t feel good when you’re writing, this is a clue that your gremlin’s on the scene. Close your eyes. Notice your feelings without judging or interpreting them.
• Identify your thoughts. If you catch your gremlin speaking through you saying, “I suck, just quit, etc.” put up a mental stop sign and observe the thoughts without analyzing them. Your gremlin knows you’re onto it now.
• Inhabit your body. Gremlins can elicit uncomfortable physical sensations, such as tightness in the chest or gut. Identify these sensations, note where they occur and think of them as gremlin detectors.
• Notice the interaction between your heart, head and body. If you feel discouraged, are you thinking wrong thoughts? Is your jaw clenched? The more cues you take that your gremlin’s afoot, the easier it is to pan back and see it.
• Observe your gremlin. What does it look like? What does it do? Mine is a huge, gelatinous thing that flings slime. Yours might be a wiry guy with a megaphone. Giving it an image makes it easier to notice, and to ignore.

  When you become adept at noticing your gremlin, power shifts to you, the observer. With awareness comes choice. Now you can make proactive decisions about how to respond. We’ll examine more of this in part two.

  In the meantime, if you’re determined to keep your gremlin downstairs, I suggest reading Rick Carson’s excellent book, Taming Your Gremlin. Carson’s approach is effective and simple, and will give you techniques to keep the cellar door closed.

  Part Two

  Have a question for Doug? Click here to submit it to THE WRITE MIND.

  Doug Kurtz is a published novelist, certified life coach and the owner of Write Life Coaching (www.writelifecoaching.com). He earned his MA in creative writing at the University of Colorado, where he also taught fiction writing. He currently lives in Boulder, where he’s busy coaching other writers and working on his next novel.

  

My nose was the last thing on my mind. It was the last inning of the second round of the Little League All-Star baseball tournament. With just one out remaining, I had what every pitcher dreams of having intact with the game on the line; a no-hitter. Any one pitch could do so many things, could end so many things. This next pitch could be it.

I had never read The Chosen by Chaim Potok and wouldn’t until I was a teacher entering my fifth year in the classroom. In the novel’s opening chapter, Reuven Malter, an Orthodox Jew, gets hit in the face with a baseball off the bat of Danny Saunders from a rival Jewish sect. The two boys hate each other in this opening chapter because the two teams hate each other, and well, that’s just what they’re supposed to do. Potok even implies that Danny somehow has control over the direction of the baseball off his bat and that he purposely lines it at Reuven’s face, shattering his glasses and putting him in danger of going blind.

What Potok is doing in a masterful way is using the physical impairment of Reuven’s eyes to trigger the spiritual growth he’s beginning to experience and “see” as the story unfolds. He and Danny both change, becoming best friends despite their religious differences. Reuven suffers tremendous pain in the hospital because of his injury, but had it not happen, the boys would have left the baseball field that day no better off than they were. Physically intact? Yes. Spiritually enlightened? Not even close. The walls of bitterness would have been even more impenetrable.

But the ball did manage to find Reuven’s face that day. Just like the ball managed to find mine so many years ago. It was a hot July day, and I was manning my position at shortstop. We were just days away from the start of the baseball tournament, days away from my potential no-hitter on the mound. The ball was hit in the gap between me and third base, and when I dove, it took a bad hop.

My face exploded in pain, just like Reuven’s does in the book. Blood rushed from my nose and everyone scurried around me. My coach squatted down and looked at my face, and I remember him saying, “I don’t think it’s too bad. I don’t think it’s broken.”

Mama showed up. I got in the car and checked myself out in the mirror. My nose was entirely shifted over toward my eye. Coach wasn’t a very good liar.

We went to the doctor. He told us that surgery would be the day after I was scheduled to pitch, so I knew then that I’d get at least two games under my belt. That was what I was hoping for, anyway.

“So it’s broken,” my mom said. “I guess he can’t play baseball.”

The only thing I was worried about was not playing baseball. I wasn’t even scared of the surgery. I was just hoping she wouldn’t bring up not playing, so I’d have a reason to play. You know, ask forgiveness instead of permission. I knew what the answer from the doctor would be. Season over.

“What’s the worse that can happen?” the doctor replied, as dry as he’d been from the start. “He can’t break it anymore.”

His answer was yes, I could play, and yes Ms. LeJeune, even the night before the surgery. He told me to go do my best and win. He even feigned a smile. As dry and uninspired as he was, the simple simplicity of his words has stuck with me for eighteen years.

He was right. I couldn’t break the nose any worse, even if I did take another ball off the face. Likewise, Reuven Malter in The Chosen couldn’t have felt any more pain and any more fear, but the tragedy was a necessary obstacle to a new and great opportunity. The lesson here is that no matter how many baseballs explode in our face on the field, no matter how painful life gets, there is always a doctor telling us to go win and go do our best. There is always a caring coach telling us no, it’s not broken, you’re going to be just fine.

And even when he’s lying through his teeth, there is still a message in the words.

Life is rough, and when trying times happen, the dragon tries to discourage us with full force. But we have to realize that the eyeglasses can be replaced, the noses and eyes will heal, and life around the bend will place us on the pitcher’s mound with one more out to go, primed and ready for glory.

More often than not, our writing is inspired by the bad parts of our lives, for example, getting smashed in the face with a baseball. This is okay some of the time. This week, let’s focus on the coach who told us to keep going. For many writers stuck in a rut, this is often the jump start they need.

Jeff LeJeune is the author of The Final Chase and Postmarked Baltimore. After a deadly disease during college redirected the course of his life, Jeff became a teacher at St. Louis Catholic High School in Lake Charles, LA where he was recently named a Claes Nobel Educator of Distinction.

CW: In our previous piece, we began to address our two requirements for writing: inspiration and perspiration. The Muse is a part of our inspiration. She is the goddess of creativity, an otherworldly creature inspiring the artist at work. She has usually been portrayed as a being outside of us.

The Albert Brooks movie “The Muse” and our writing experience remind us that the best Muse lives inside us if we will only heed her calls.

She usually can’t be forced. She waits while our ideas come up, hibernate and percolate. As we wait, often frustrated, we remind ourselves that we need more substance (e.g., research, practice, imagination, notes to ourselves.) What we are about to write next is something new, but still unknown and incomplete.

Then one day she appears. Slowly or quickly. She moves into our thoughts, minds, and hearts; she is there most our life, and through our waking and sometimes sleeping hours. What we then write ideally flows, and sometimes goes laboriously slow.

Barbara gives us some examples.

BW: I thought I had finished my book The Natural Soul two years ago. I gave it to an agent. A few months later the Muse sent me a new chapter. It was inspired by a friend who was having a lot of trouble realizing that this great man she was dating was “Him.” I started putting a few thoughts down on paper. I separated Hollywood’s myth of romance with the personal experience I like to call, “The Love of my Life.” I wrote the missing chapter for my book which I then called, “The Love of our Life.” It was then that the book sold.

A few weeks later, I was going over the final touches before sending the manuscript to be published. It was then that the Muse took over once again.

I emailed Kenneth Ring, a colleague from our research into Near-Death experiences for an endorsement. He answered that he just finished an article for the Journal of Near-Death Studies on after-death communications with a near-death experiencer we both knew who had died a year ago. This deceased man was now communicating from the other side of the “veil” with a few people here in this reality. His name was Tom Sawyer (no, not the one from Mark Twain,) although his personality certainly stood out like Twain’s Tom. All of his communications, some with people who never knew him when he was on Earth, sounded exactly like the Tom we knew.

I couldn’t sleep. In the middle of the night I added a section to a chapter in the book, called “Soul Contact across the Veil.” I typed a new subheading for this section: “Tom died. Or did he?” I thought, “Finally…I’m going back to bed.” But I still couldn’t sleep. Tom didn’t want just a section in a chapter; he wanted his own chapter! Within a few days, with the help of the Muse now as Tom, the new chapter flowed. The Muse had my fingers dancing on the keyboard.

I really thought the book was finished this time. I was on my way to the gym. After my workout, I was headed to the printer to print the 130 pages of my book to be mailed. Believe it or not, I got two emails from Tom’s friends immediately before hitting the gym, saying I could interview them for more information.

Halfway to the gym, I was living the scene in “Oh God” when John Denver is driving and George Burns, as God, is in the back seat talking to him. I wasn’t going to the gym. I was getting some quotes from Tom’s two friends. I turned the car around and went home. At nine that night, I was still working on the paragraph I had gotten from each interview. It made the chapter even stronger.

And after all that, what did the Muse teach me?

When I think a manuscript is finished, and when the Muse is finished with it, are totally different deals.

Charles and Barbara Whitfield share a private practice in Atlanta helping adults that have addictions and/or were repeatedly traumatized as children. They are the authors of 15 published books and numerous articles. They also give talks and workshops. For more information, visit www.cbwhit.com and www.barbarawhitfield.com

I was attending my first Natural Golf Clinic in New Orleans. It was a beautiful day. The air smelled crisp and clean, and the temperature was perfect. I was waiting with three other students outside the clubhouse. The Master Instructor, Tom Sanders, was a protégé of Moe Norman and had an excellent reputation of being a lot like his mentor. Moe Norman was a golf savant, and his unusual mannerisms were legendary. I will never forget meeting Tom for the first time. He came around the corner of the clubhouse dragging his bag of clubs. He was sort of pear-shaped, his cap was on crooked and his shirt tail was out of his pants on the left-hand side. He introduced himself and promptly led us to the driving range where there were four piles of balls. I’d never seen so many balls in one place. He teed up two balls, pointed to the 200-yard sign and announced he was going to hit the sign. He addressed the ball and, without any hesitation, swung. The ball bounced off the metal sign with a loud bang. Before anything could be said, he struck the second ball and it hit the sign with a “ker-thunk.” The four of us, speechless, looked at each other in awe. Tom looked up at us and realized something was going on and asked, “Is there something wrong?” One of the students spoke out, “We’ve never seen that done before.” Tom, the Master Instructor, looked at us matter-of-factly and uttered, “Well, it’s a pretty big sign.” The sign was, at best, three feet high and four feet wide.

Next, Tom showed us the Natural Golf grip, stance and swing. For the next three hours, non-stop, we hit balls. Tom moved from student to student, saying the some thing over and over. We took thirty minutes for lunch and returned to hit balls for three more hours without breaking. Two of the four participants gave up and quit after the first hour after lunch. Two of us remained, and at the end of the six hour lesson, Tom started picking up his things to leave. He thanked us for coming and half heartedly asked, “Do you have any questions?” Although exhausted, my co-participant explained the brochure indicated that there was a lesson on how to get out of a sand trap. Tom looked stunned and replied, “You want a lesson about sand?” My partner nodded. Tom quickly retorted, “Stay out of it.” He turned on his heels and left.

You want a lesson on writer’s block? Stay out of pressure situations. Authors that write for the enjoyment of it, the fun, the excitement, never ever come close to getting writer’s block because there is no pressure. Don’t get into a position where you have to write something. It is that simple.

Dr. James Payne, a nationally-recognized scholar, educator and speaker, is a professor of Special Education at the University of Mississippi and a Fulbright recipient. He is the developer of the PeopleWise Event Management System and the PeopleWise Profile System.

For those of you who grew up living in a home with a basement, this article should recall some fond memories of those treks down the creaky steps into the dim and musky bowels of the house. Like many older homes, the basement was the final resting place for an odd assortment of items.

Old baseball gloves, deflated footballs still bearing the scuff marks of the street, plus an assortment of old table games like “Monopoly” and “Life,” none of which contained all of the pieces to actually play the game. Old clothes and shoes in cardboard boxes nearly covered with mold. All of these items are remnants of an earlier time in life when these things were useful.

But in addition to the stacks and piles of useless junk, there was a terror that haunted the basement of every home. Somewhere in a dark corner, an old washer and dryer waited, half-cocked on the uneven concrete floor, patiently holding their ground until a human form appeared before them.

Remember the nights when your mother told you to go to the basement, remove the wet clothes from the washer and put them in the dryer? Your knees buckled from fright as she pushed you to the old creaky door that opened to the rickety basement stairs. Reassuring you that nothing was down there only made matters worse. Swallowing hard, you gingerly went down the steps knowing the creature was probably going to grab your ankle through the open steps.

The only light bulb, which was hanging on a thin wire from the ceiling, was miles away and ten feet in the air. Who knows if you could reach it before you were devoured by fanged jaws? You mother certainly didn’t care if you got eaten or not, but it was obvious that she didn’t want to risk coming down here either.

Jumping up to snag the string, the light cast shadows on the walls as it swung back and forth. Quickly, you stuff the clothes into the dryer, then turn around slowly to check and see if the creature is standing behind you, his sharp claws ready to shred the tender skin from your body. The swinging light reveals a large moving shadow coming for you and simultaneously the light bulb “pops” into oblivion, throwing you into total darkness.

Your feet are frozen to the concrete, but a noise behind the washer propels you toward the stairs, your feet pumping furiously on each wooden steps trying to avoid the clutches of the creature. Slamming the door and pushing the small locking bolt into place should be sufficient to keep whatever demon was down there in his place.

Then you remember you forgot to start the dryer! You reach for the door knob, but then pull back and head for your bedroom. You can always swear to your mother that the dryer was running. She can deal with it in the daytime, the only time she will ever go down there anyway.

The question remains: What is more frightening? The creature in the basement, or your mother sacrificing you to the underground demons of your house? Sound’s like the beginnings of a horror novel to me.

Brian Douglas Coyle, a graduate of Kent State University in Ohio, has over 30 years of experience in the banking industry. He is currently the Community Development Investment Manager at BB&T, the eleventh largest bank in the country. Brian is the author of Soul Riders and the 2008 release The Devil’s Sanctuary.

Last week, we worked on developing the physical characteristics of our protagonist (see part one). This week, we’re going to dive deeper into our character by creating a character of the opposite sex, naming our protagonist and smashing stereotypes.

Character Exercise Two
Objective: To create another character of the opposite sex

Despite what some people say, men and women are very different in the way they view life, and as a novelist you will probably need to create realistic male and female characters of a variety of ages. Try to avoid writing stereotypical “men” or “women” or characters who are “all bad” or “all good.” Most people are a little of each.

The kind of visualizing exercise you’ve just gone through is very effective as a first step in imagining the potential in all kinds of main characters.

For this exercise, we want you to repeat the steps you took in Character Exercise One last week, this time creating a character of the opposite sex from the protagonist you envisioned in the previous exercise. You may wish to change the character’s race, ethnicity, religion or whatever pleases you.

Character Exercise Three
Objective: To brainstorm character names

This exercise is simple and fun. Get an old magazine. Cut out ten pictures of people. Do not select the picture of anyone you know, including historical figures, contemporary actors, singers or politicians. A writer creates characters; he doesn’t rehash them.

Once that is done, write one sentence describing the nature of the person and/or the job he holds. Now name each person:

Example:
The Picture: A thin, balding, middle-aged man clutching a briefcase.
The Description: The uptight CPA who just learned his wife has left him and drained their bank account.
Name: Matt Downer

Character Exercise Four
Objective: To smash stereotypes

Part 1
Write a short vignette on one or all of the following characters who are the opposite of what the clichéd characters usually represent. As you write, consider what events shaped the characters’ personalities and helped them reach their present situations. How do these contrasts offer possibilities of change? How do these characters demonstrate their personalities?

1. An old-west sheriff who is a serious academic.
2. A prostitute who is independently wealthy and does not especially enjoy sex.
3. An African American civil rights activist who, perhaps secretly, is fascinated with English history and civilization.
4. The rich snob whose closest friend is a homeless person.

Part 2
Now that you’ve smashed the above-mentioned stereotypes, create your own list of characters who go against type. Write a short vignette on any or all of the characters you create.

Example:
Here’s a character sketch of a general-issue character, the crusty old woodsman, with a twist.
Herman has lived alone in the Cascade Mountains for twenty years, ever since his wife’s death. He knows every kind of tree, flower, animal and mineral that’s to be found here. People aren’t to his liking, and although he often guides tourists and fishermen through the woods, he’s a curmudgeon and doesn’t do much socializing. When he does say something, he’s likely to be caustic, sarcastic or melancholy, although, when pressed by adversity, he has a heart of gold and will go through hell and back to help a friend. He loves the mountains, hates politicians, and is wary of environmentalists.
Herman spends his free time painting in oils. Since he is quiet and solitary, he expresses his feelings, hopes, dreams and fears through his art. He doesn’t paint for money, although his abstract paintings are beautiful. He has a degree in fine arts from a prestigious university, but he doesn’t flaunt it. Whenever he experiences difficulty in his life, instead of turning to the whisky bottle, he turns to his easel. His acquaintances wonder about the man: He’s a contradiction in terms, gruff on the exterior, but obviously a sensitive soul.

Part Three

For more helpful tips and exercises, visit www.sterlinghouse-bookstore.com and check out:
Writing Aerobics I by C. Sterling and M. Davidson

Agree? Disagree? Tell us at editor@writersnewsweekly.com or join the discussion on facebook.com.

William Dietrich

William Dietrich is a Pulitzer Prize winning- journalist whose historical fiction has sold in 15 languages. His latest novel is The Rosetta Key.

Q: Journalism keeps you disciplined. How important is it for writers to exercise discipline in meeting deadlines for each consecutive draft/revision?

A: The old saying that writing is 10 percent inspiration and 90 percent perspiration is pretty much true. Journalism, by not tolerating writers block and providing frequent deadlines, can be a good training ground for the necessary, “it’s-8 a.m.-and-time-to-be-in-front-of-the-computer” discipline.

Q: How do you choose the specific era, landscape or figure to write about?

A: I believe what fascinates me will fascinate readers. What I really look for in history is what makes the basis of a good story, which always includes colorful characters and meaningful conflict.

Q: Describe the research that goes into preparing to write a historical novel.

A: I average about 50 nonfiction books per novel, mined first for a historical overview and then for the kind of detail that brings a story alive. I try to travel to the location of the story. Sometimes I can find experts willing to help. Maps, books on local plants and animals, weather tables and technical information on uniforms, guns or food are all useful.

Q: How can writers channel their passion into an interesting novel?

A: The reader can’t have fun unless the writer is having fun, and that means writing about what you’re interested in and care about. It’s important to remember, however, that the facts and the passion must serve the story.

Carlotta Holton is the author of Salem Pact and Touching The Dead, and is a member of the National Federation of Press Women and an affiliate member of the Horror Writers Association.

Carlotta Holton has just received her second award for Touching the Dead from the National Federation of Press Women Communications Contest. Click here to purchase the book.

Emmanuel Young lives in Cleveland Heights, OH. The Psalms of a Warrior’s Heart is the first book by this up-and-coming author who was featured in Los Angeles this year at Book Expo America.