Some foods just naturally and traditionally go together—wine and cheese; cookies and milk; scotch and soda; peanut butter and jelly; coffee and mayonnaise. Whoa! Coffee and what?
Mayonnaise. It’s the perfect accompaniment to coffee. You can have coffee and a piece of pie, a slice of cake, a doughnut, a cinnamon roll, but nothing goes better with coffee than a sandwich and nothing goes better with a sandwich than a cup of coffee. A sandwich of anything—bologna, cheese, b-l-t, tuna, egg salad, chicken salad, roast beef, fried egg—put any of them on bread slathered with mayonnaise and you have an unbeatable taste treat.
Ah, but you might say, it’s the bread, not the mayonnaise. But not so, No matter what the bread—English muffin, sourdough, whole wheat, classic white, hamburger bun or a cold biscuit—they’re all from wheat flour of some description, just as are the sweet treats. You certainly could not say that the flavor that compliments coffee is wheat flour. Ever tasted plain old flour? No taste. And those pies and sweet rolls, except for the colorful sugary addition they’re pretty much the same baker’s flour with the difference in the pastry flavoring itself. Sure those go with coffee, but they couple equally well with milk, iced tea or diet cola.
If the magic is not in the sandwich filling or even the sandwich bread, then the one remaining ingredient of all those sandwiches that go so well with coffee is the mayonnaise. But maybe all is not lost with cake and coffee. The true test might be to substitute mayonnaise for the butter cream filling and frosting. Naw. Maybe it is the sandwich bread that makes the difference after all. I’ll have a cup of black coffee, no sugar, and a sandwich. Maybe pastrami on marble rye—with mustard.
What follows a gunshot after the noise dies away? The echoes are not all audible. The bullet cannot be recalled. Someone's life is changed, seldom, but sometimes, for the better. GUNSHOT ECHOES is a collection of fictional accounts dealing with guns and the aftermath of shootings. It is not a social commentary on the right, or not, to bear arms.
The Outlander, a novella of South Africa
When David Stone, an American who has adopted South Africa as his home, answers the telephone he is sure it is his boss and owner of Private Computers International, Alex Becker, calling from the United States, nine time zones away. David does not realize at the time just how far his upscale lifestyle is about to tumble when the caller identifies herself.
The beautiful Marjie van der Luen is an engineer for the South African electric power company. Her technical alliance has been important to PCI's success, but she wields an even more intimate influence on David's personal life. David has lost track of her for two years, and now she is just a scratchy telephone line away, and David remembers. Marjie remembers too. She remembers David's reckless promise that he will kill for her, and she’s calling in the favor.
The intended victim Diana Craighall, while unknown to David, turns out not quite a stranger. After gaining entry to her home through subterfuge, David discovers that Diana is the fiancée of his employer, Alex Becker!
Following the murder, David discovers that Marjie has set up a strategy to blackmail him, or perhaps to expose him as the killer. To protect himself David sacrifices Marjie to the authorities, and in the process murders twice more.
Through it all, David manages to conceal his involvement. However, Alex isn't convinced of David's innocence, and relieves him of his position with the company. While David is sorting out his crumbling circumstances, Marjie's friends kidnap and punish him for his treatment of Marjie.
The Short Stories
The "Mexican Holiday" is anything but as it unravels into an international kidnapping and drug smuggling terror. The protagonist is a travel magazine freelance writer who, with the aid of some friends and fellow travelers, saves the day for, and most of the lives of, a tour bus full of panicked vacationers from north of the border.
"Hambone Calls the Tune." Bonaparte Hammond is the new cop on the detective force, faced with investigation of a shooting that becomes the first in a sequence of murders. He masquerades as "Hambone," a newspaper music critic, in his attempt to unmask the killer, as the investigation leads the detective through the halls of country music.
"The Clay Pigeon" is a police procedural investigation and resolution of the shooting death of an international sportsman. Set in the Niagara Falls region, the story takes place in a skeet-shooting venue in which hundreds of participants from around the world bring hundreds of shotguns to the competition, and one of those guns is the murder weapon.
"Hobby House" is a publishing company in trouble that has nothing to do with the price of paper or print. The old owner-publisher steps down, his son steps up and steps on some toes, causing a writer and an editor to step forth with murder on their minds. A cop captain who can't remember names writes finis to the whole unwholesome chapter.
"A Murder for the Book" is a blueprint for, and completion of, the perfect murder, carried out by a world renowned murder mystery author who is well acquainted with leaving clues, or not leaving them at all. The story revises a historic adage that could be translated thusly: "Beware of friends bearing gifts."
Review of Gunshot Echoes : Jim Woods did a superb job with his title Gunshot Echoes. This exceptional Novella and compilation of several short stories is going to enthrall any murder mystery fan.
Woods knows how to keep the suspense and mystery alive, while leaving you eager to turn the page to see how the plots are going to unfold.
In the novella The Outlander - David Stone is a successful businessman in South Africa.
When the woman he loves shows up after years of absence, David is torn between his morals and regaining Marjie's love at her request for murder. In high hopes of having her again, he gives in to her demands and pursues his target.
Covering his tracks with every move he makes, David ends up implicating Marjie. Who is it that will be the one to get away with murder?
~Find out in this thrilling tale full of mystery and murder. Excellent read.
The Mexican Holiday - Raymond Yancey is a magazine reporter on assignment in Mexico.
When three Mexicans board the tour bus and hijack it, Ray must do some quick planning to help save them all.
~This story is one of those that has you punching the air saying, "That's right! Get him!"
Hambone Calls The Tune - Detective Hammond is at a stand still in his investigation. Three murders have occurred and the only connection is a country music bar.
Going under as a columnist for the local newspaper, Detective Hammond finally gets the lead he seeks to break the case.
~I enjoyed this read taking a special liking to Detective Hammond. He knows how to get things done.
The Clay Pigeon - When the biggest Shooters Tournament is held in the city of Buffalo, the shock of a murder was a little unnerving.
Law Enforcement Officials from all surrounding counties join this investigation when it is noted to have over five hundred guns as possible murder weapons.
~All the guns made this story a thriller. Keeps you guessing as to what will happen in the end.
Hobby House - New publisher Jack Connelly is brutally murdered in the lobby of his office building.
The murder weapon leads investigators on a wild goose chase in Mexico in pursuit of an Antique Arms and Swords Collector.
With a missing sword and gun and a previous argument with his publisher, the collector becomes the main suspect in Jack's murder.
As the investigation develops, it leads detectives to within the company.
~I enjoyed this story as Woods added humor to a good plot of murder.
Overall, Gunshot Echoes is an excellent read and will definitely appeal to the fans of this genre. It had me anxious to read to the end and I give it ****½ (4.5)Stars~BK Walker-Author/Reviewer of BK Walker Books, http://bkwalkerbooks.weebly.com
Every writer needs an editor. A qualification to that assertion: Every writer who expects or wants to be published, requires an editor in his corner. And in using the “in your corner” metaphor, I don’t necessarily imply a supporter, although he/she certainly could be. It’s more like the pugilist’s “cut man”– someone to stave the flow of blood, tape over the wounds, and shove you back into the ring when the bell sounds.
The professional writers who may be reading this know what I will expound here, and are excused. It’s you aspiring authors to whom this is addressed.
There are three stages of editing before publication, with the initial stage, self-editing, being perhaps the most important. There was a golden time, I’m told, when the gift of story telling, in handwritten script, or composed on old-fashioned typewriter keys, was all that was necessary to sell a story or a book. Someone from the publisher’s editorial staff who worked closely with the artist-writer coaxed the promising tale into publishable form. Those good old days have joined the rest of ancient history.
Nowadays if the writer isn’t also the first-line editor, there may not be another reader except himself. Well, of course the work will be read and no doubt appreciated by family and friends, but that’s not editing. I’ll return to that blasphemy later; we’re in the midst of self-editing.
Editing your own is tough; I won’t kid you on that. It’s akin to looking critically at your own child and admitting to what the neighbors are whispering, “There’s something wrong with that kid!” You have to take an objective look, and accept that his ears are too big. Since all newborns are beautiful though, you have to make the critical appraisal a few days following the birth.
With your manuscript, put it away for a week or two while you are off to other projects. Then read it objectively. Start by eliminating words. You can do it! Line through the words with a colored pen; hit the delete key. Take it out! Examine the copy word by word and take out all the words that really don’t have to be there. Sure, this is going to slim down the manuscript; that’s part of what we’re after. Following that, look critically at each adjective. Experiment with changes to them. Make sure that each of them imparts exactly your intended characteristic to the noun it modifies. Look at all the short, choppy sentences. Combine them. Vary the sentence lengths and patterns. Search out those favorite words that you have used twice in the same sentence and four times on every page. Find a different word for ninety percent of them. Rewrite! There is nothing sacred about a first, or second or third draft. None of it is final until it goes to press, and mistakes found after the presses roll might as well be etched in stone; they are around forever.
Going to press is pushing the schedule a bit for now though. It’s time to turn the manuscript over to your editor. Not your mother who’s an English teacher; not your daughter who’s a psychology major; not your fishing buddy who swears along with you about the giant bass that jumped off your hook. Of course you are going to impose of friends and family to read your Great American Novel. Of course they will shower you with accolades. That’s what friends and family are for. The frontispieces of first novels are filled with expressions of appreciation for all the readers who encouraged the authors. The friends would be hurt if their names are not noted and the author would feel guilty for leaving someone out.
Technical and academic books are different. The name listed as author usually is not the sole creator. That author grants proper credit to those professional associates and research staff who gave aid in assembling the book. Those acknowledgements may become résumé entries for those otherwise anonymous toilers behind the scene. In your short story or novel it’s hardly necessary to name every friend who offered encouragement to your creative efforts, and your professional editor does not expect recognition there.
That editor may be a friend, or at least friendly, but more than likely you’ll see him/her as an adversary. It’s not his job to stroke and soothe. If fact he may be totally devoid of bedside manner. You need someone who can get down to the business of editing, unencumbered by personal feeling for the author; however, it’s not his job to destruct simply because he has that power. Let’s assume you have made your arrangement with him based on the recommendation of other professionals. You probably will have had a personal consultation with him. Once you have come to a professional and financial understanding, accept and act on his advice and criticism.
It is quite within the realm of possibility that your professional editor will return your manuscript with little criticism and only a few changes redlined in the margins. Congratulations. You do good work. You obviously have paid attention in creative-writing classes and have studied the self-help writing/editing books. However, just because your manuscript was not mutilated does not indicate that your editor didn’t read and analyze it. Personally, when I find a manuscript page that doesn’t call for my red pen somewhere, I initial the page just to assure my client that indeed I have read it. I must say though, that few page get only my initials in the corner.
Okay. Review your editor’s corrections, make the ones you agree to or that the editor has convinced you should be made, and once again, re-write. Now, does this mean automatically that the publisher of your choice will accept your story or novel without further change? An emphatic No! However, it does mean that the publisher may take the time to read the story through simply because it was professionally presented to him in the first place. Let’s assume that it is accepted. Now the staff editor gets his crack at it.
Your independent editor would not have known which publication or publisher would wind up with your creation. That eventual publisher may specify a different style guide than that used by your independent editor. These style guides are decidedly similar, but different publishers and organizations hold differing opinions on word usage and punctuation. As a writer myself, I once was exposed to a company editor whose first rule was that the word “albeit” was never to be used‒period! I probably would not have used it, albeit a proper word. To satisfy the editor who authorizes the payment to you, you’ll just have to take out the “albeits.”
That final editor and his staff also will do some fact checking if warranted, and the publisher’s legal expert will “edit” for libel, plagiarism, privacy invasion and copyright infringement opportunities. Finally, the copy editor will check the spelling of every word, even though the author originally employed his computer spell-checker and the interim independent editor found those words spelled correctly but misused in the story’s structure. The author may get the opportunity to incorporate the publisher’s corrections, but more than likely will be surprised at them once the story sees print.
One time I “sold” (read “donated”) a short story to a Canadian anthology publisher. I had been thorough with the pre-editing and the story had been passed-on by a second editor. The setting was the southern region of the United States; the language proper for the time and locale. In the publisher’s final editing, two or three of my carefully selected words and phrasings had been Anglicized, an alteration necessary for that publisher’s primarily north-of-the-border market. If may not have destroyed my creation, but certainly sullied my story’s authentic Southern flavor. The editor had the last word, as usual.
Most of us in audience to this Blog write in English. It may Canadian English, Australian English, American English or The Queen’s English, all of which are somewhat confusingly similar. However, absolute foreign words and phrases, particularly Mexican/Spanish ones for those of us who reside in the Southwest region of the United States, or European phrases for writers who set their work in other exotic milieu, increasingly work into our English writing. Speaking for myself and my locale, many Spanish words have become commonplace, such that they don’t get recognized as anything but Spanglish. But you don’t have to be a linguist to insert occasional foreign words into your English writing for special effect, just dare with a bit of savoir-faire.
Many of us intentionally place a foreign word or phrase into our short stories or novels because they fit the mood or scene. I make appropriate use of languages other than English in my novels set in South Africa. With the interaction between several different cultures in that multilingual country, my characters occasionally are addressed by one who speaks a different language. An Englishman may converse with an Afrikaner or a Zulu, and it helps to have the non-English speaker identified by words common to his other-than-English language. It’s a way to identify the speaker without all the “He saids.” For instance, if one character addresses another one with the subservient, “Baas,” the reader will know that a black man is addressing a white, and probably an Afrikaner and not an Englishman. By the same token, if one character refers to another as a verdoem rooinek (damn red-neck), you can be sure that the speaker is Afrikaner and the object of his insult is English.
Assuming that all who read this are writing in English, use italics when a foreign language word or phrase is necessary to the text–but only if that foreign word or phrase has not become familiar to the English-speaking world. For instance, in writing in the Southwest for a southwestern readership, “tortilla” need not be italicized but “galleta” (cookie) probably should be. Make the determination on a word-by-word-case basis. Never italicize foreign proper names.
Whether you write romances or military adventure, you almost always can make use of “rendezvous,” and you don’t have to italicize it, the French word having become universal in its use. However, should you want your lovers to rendezvous in the garden, you could arrange the tryst under the tonnelle rather than the arbor.
I got that education from the packaging on my arbor kit. These days you can almost learn a second or third language from such commercial packaging. My arbor kit instructions were repeated in French and Spanish; and the legend on the carton noted that the product itself was Made in Canada, Fabrique Au Canada, and Hecho En Canada.
It’s impossible to buy electronics without being exposed to several world languages in print, including Asian ones in characters that don’t spring from my keyboard at all. The other languages that do use our same alphabet though, can be translated simply by comparison to the English version of the claims and instructions. Not only do the individual words become clear in translation, but sentence structure can be studied as well.
In our misplaced but unintentional superiority, we tend to think of those packaging labels and assembly instructions as being translated primarily from English to whatever other secondary languages that may be involved. However, when I purchased a roll-bar kit from the BMW factory, the primary installation instructions, not too strangely, were in German. Not only that but I had to thumb through several pages of other dialects of the world, including some I assumed to be Arabic, before locating English embedded amongst the world’s “secondary” languages. I suppose Germans and others have the same right as the English-speaking peoples to take pride in their native languages.
We are not alone in this world, and writing for the electronic markets certainly will cause even more blending of the world’s languages. In the meantime, and even for local consumption, toss a foreign word into your written stories or articles now and then, just for worldly effect. Explain it though, and if it’s very unusual, italicize it too. However, make sure of your translation.
In the grocery market recently, a floor under mopping maintenance was adorned with a cautionary sign in both English and Spanish. I assumed “piso” to mean “wet”– think about it– until later at a hardware store, I understood from reading a tile package that “piso” is “floor.” I was floored.
Errors and misunderstandings caused by language translations work both ways. Acting in my capacity as contract editor on a manuscript by an East European author, I changed her written phrase in the scene where her character in hiding was about to be discovered, “He retained his respiration” to “He held his breath.” It’s not that the author had selected individual words from her American dictionary that were incorrect, or even that the combination of words did not, with a little study, convey her character’s dilemma, but a part of my commission was to Americanize the language of the author’s novel. She made a special point in our initial contact to let me know that English was not her native tongue, as if I couldn’t have guessed. Some of the more blatant misuses by my European author client include interchanging subject and verb, a condition we do see in languages other than our own English. It’s not entirely wrong but hers gave the dialogue a rather stilted read, and as I say, a stipulation from my client was to Americanize her writing.
Her book is structured around the Berlin Airlift of the post WWII era, so military references are used throughout. She talks of soldiers “at the first lines” which I changed to “on the front line.” We all try to be civil but my author, in differentiating military characters from non-military ones, refers to the nonmilitary as “civil people,” a phrase I changed, repeatedly, to simply “civilians.” Because the background is the airlift, flight and aircraft terminology comes up in her writing. She writes of the “bombardments” dropped on Berlin, which I changed to simply “bombs.”
The occasional use of a foreign word or phrase can be very effective in the right places in your story or novel, but like my East European client, Hungarian actually, if we depend on a dictionary of the language we really cannot handle, we should run the copy by someone who is familiar and fluent in the language. Otherwise, we could quite likely select the wrong word, and thereby end up quedar en ridiculo (looking ridiculous).
* ~ *
Contributed by Jim Woods, author of Champagne Books:
Gunshot Echoes; Assassination Safari; and Parting Shot
Four groups of people are concerned with the length of a sentence—judges, lawyers, prisoners and editors. An acquisitions editor turned back my recent submission of a themed short story collection with both lavish praise and condemning criticism. She really liked the stories, but hated the sentences. I had thought early on that one or two of the stories might be too long in word count, but that was not the problem. I was rejected for my sentences being too long; rejected with an offer that if I would “write down,” using less complex sentences, she would be glad to reconsider publishing the collection. I chose to look elsewhere.
However, just in case she might have a point, I did take another look at my complex sentences and found them good. But thinking that the acquisitions editor perhaps might be fresh out of an eastern liberal arts school, and perhaps did not study the same authors I did, I’d reprise my study of several classic authors whose work influenced me when I was in college.
I looked to Hemingway first. The 1996 reprint copy of the 1935 Green Hills of Africa that was formatted to serve as a textbook study of the great author’s work, and that I was about to read for fun, seemed like a reasonable place to start. The back cover copy praised Hemingway’s body of work, then went on to justify him as a subject of literary study: “Ernest Hemingway did more to change the style of English Prose than any other writer in the Twentieth Century, and for his efforts he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1954.” Obviously, I had come to the right place.
The blurb continued: “Hemingway wrote in short, declarative sentences and was known for his tough, terse prose.” Perhaps the acquisitions editor who turned me down knew of which she spoke. The balance of the blurb mainly listed Hemingway’s numerous published titles. I opened and read. PART I, Chapter One, pages 5 and 6. To set the scene, Hemingway’s hunt day is over, and the object of the day’s hunt was not achieved; the kudu quarry did not come to the salt lick where Hemingway had rigged his blind. He’s traveling via motor vehicle back to his distant camp:
So now, going along the sandy track of the road in the car, the lights picking out the eyes of night birds that squatted close on the sand until the bulk of the car was on them and they rose in soft panic; passing the fires of the travelers that all moved to the westward by day along this road, abandoning the famine country that was ahead of us; me sitting, the butt of my rifle on my foot, the barrel in the crook of my left arm, a flask of whisky between my knees, pouring the whisky into a tin cup and passing it over my shoulder in the dark for M’Cola [a member of the hunting retinue] to pour water into it from the canteen, drinking this, the first one of the day, the finest one there is, and looking at the thick bush we passed in the dark, feeling the cool wind of the night and smelling the good smell of Africa, I was altogether happy.
Terse? One hundred sixty three words! One extremely complex, thought provoking, sentence streaming the scene and the hunter’s innermost satisfying and disturbing thoughts, streaming them long before streaming became a household cliché as applied to the new day technology of cell phones and digital cameras. This man, Hemingway, certainly knows short and declarative! So I looked further and to other well-known authors whose works find place on my bookshelves.
On the morning of the eleventh of November, 1937, precisely at eleven o’clock, some well-meaning busybody consulted his watch and loudly announced the hour, with the result that all of us in the dining car felt constrained to put aside drinks and newspapers and spend the two minutes’ silence in rather embarrassed stares at one another or out of the window.
The preceding sixty-two-word sentence is the opening to one of my favorite novels, Random Harvest by James Hilton, published in 1942. It’s not the wordiest example I could find; many of the classic authors make use of sentences much longer, up to seventy, eighty and more words.
Granted, the two preceding examples are from the 1930s and 40s and I admit that they may not apply to literature of today, or may not be acceptable to the television generation. I read, but I watch television too. One thing I’ve noticed that whether it’s on the big motion picture screen or the flickering TV, a story based on a book seldom translates completely to the visual medium. That’s not to declare that there are no good movies, but the print version wins out a preponderance of the time.
Moving on, a television presentation of The Jewel in the Crown some years backdrove me to read the book(s) that inspired the TV series. I appreciated the understated characterizations portrayed by the British actors, I liked the period in history, and I enjoyed the locale--mysterious India. In the closing credits at the end of each weekly segment was the information that the story was derived from the “Raj Quartet”, a series of novels by Paul Scott. I eventually assembled a complete set of the four titles in print, written in the 1970s, before I dared to read any of them.
As if I needed a reason to prefer a book over the movie, the written version is far superior to the shadows on screen. The film, any fiction film, can’t exist without dialogue, but these books include so much skillful descriptive narrative that cannot be presented by actors mouthing roles. It’s a difficult read though, first, due to its anglicized words and phrases, then the east-Indian words that don’t appear in my English dictionary. And even though it’s in pure English, I really stumbled over this sentence:
There is, for instance, under glass, the old briar pipe that long ago was filled and tamped by the broad but increasingly shaky finger of Sir Henry Manners, one-time governor of the province in which the town of Mayapore played, in 1942, its particular historic role, but Manners was gone ten years before that, carried temporarily away by retirement to Kashmir and then off permanently by the claret and the sunshine which he loved, and a disease which even now is curable only in Paris, Athens and Mexico and of which he knew nothing until it ate through the walls of his intestines and attacked his liver, which the doctors described as a cancerous invasion.
One sentence, one hundred-fifteen vivid and superbly coupled storytelling words written in the 1970s-- but don’t plan on hearing them at the movie.
Are long sentences the purview then, of the old school of writing? What of the contemporary authors? In this era of one-hour television dramas and compact newspapers designed for busy consumers, do we adults have to write, and speak, as the characters in our basic reading texts of times gone by? See Spot run.
Half a century after James Hilton, popular novelist and author of Pleading Guilty, Scott Turow, writes: The saying about law firms is that there are finders, minders, and grinders, referring first to people like Carl and Martin and Brushy who find big-time, big-money clients to employ them, then the service partners, guys like me, who make sure that skilled work is carried out by supervising the third group, the young toilers laboring in the library amid the ghosts of dead trees. Sixty-seven words. Obviously the lengthy sentence is alive and well in today’s literature.
The only rule governing sentence length is to write to the appropriate reading level of the intended audience. There is no rule for a maximum sentence length, or a minimum for that matter. Long sentences often work well and frequently are necessary. The stream-of-consciousness treatment almost always demands long, complicated sentences to reflect the run-on thought processes of the character. The quote from Pleading Guilty falls into that category. On the other hand, James Hilton’s paragraph establishes the time, locale, and conditions in such a manner that none of that paragraph need be omitted; nor should it be broken up since it encompasses a complex scene in a single, connected narration.
Hemingway is capable of short sentences, as are Hilton, Turow and Scott. Outside of dialogue where short sentences should predominate, Hilton’s character, the confused Charles Ranier, describing an account in the first person, related: I said nothing. That’s concise. To pick a like example from Turow and his character Mack Malloy: I stared. That’s equally succinct. Hemingway, in describing a scene that included local people, used first a fifty-seven-word sentence, then one of nineteen words, and then: Others carried spears. Finally, Hemingway was terse. Paul Scott of The Raj Quartet, and the easily the wordiest of this selected quartet of authors, can write short when the situation requires it, as in these two consecutive sentences: Mildred stood out. Almost disdainfully.
If there is no hard-and-fast rule for sentence length, there certainly is a practical rule against being boring in your sentence structure. Mix your sentence lengths. Use terse ones where they fit the mood, but avoid the stilted; write longer where it advances or supports the storyline. And don’t worry yourself about acquisitions editors. They may invoke power to temporarily sidetrack your career advancement, but don’t allow them to wreck your writing that you know is right. For me I’m allying with my loquacious role models, the Messers Hemingway, Scott, Hilton and Turow
The three basic reasons that writers write creatively and voluntarily are therapy, money and immortality. I use the disclaimer “voluntarily” because some authors, advertising copywriters for instance, or research and scientific report writers, write because they are required to as a condition of their work. This obviously may be classed as writing for money, but it can’t be considered under the voluntary reasons for creative writing.
Grief is a strong motivator for writing. Pain is eased, suffering is shared, death is made easier for the living, as all these become the subjects or objects of writing. Words that might never be spoken aloud are often given full voice when their effects are committed to paper. Therapy writers seldom are widely recognized for their literary efforts, and in truth, most of such writing is not intended to be seen by anyone but the writer and very close family and confidantes, and perhaps others who have experienced similar circumstances as the writer.
Writing for therapy crosses into writing for immortality, especially in relation to the genre of family history. Recalling, in print, the accomplishments, disappointments, failures, foibles, and personalities of distant and current family members makes for good literature– for a limited audience. That readership, limited though it might be, usually is greater in number than for the more private grief therapy writing. The writing also revives the past, and that gives its subjects, as well as the writer, a measure of immortality.
Of course, if that writing was widely read while the writer lived– a best seller– then the author might have claimed long-lived notoriety as well as money. Writing for wealth, as opposed to writing for wages, is a goal for many but an accomplishment for few. As long as literary success is measured in money, it follows that the writer whose books sell more copies makes more money. Almost everyone who writes for commercial reasons, and that would be every writer other than those writing for therapy or immortality, expects to author a best seller. Book sales numbers will prove that to be a goal rarely attained. A case could be made that immortality is more likely for a commercially successful writer than one not so successful. It stands to reason that the more copies of a book in existence, the more likely that more of them survive time.
Author immortality, rather than subject immortality, may just be the most important motivator in writing. A commercially published work that is a financial failure is printed on the same stock as a best seller. Vanity published works also can be recorded on durable paper. The fact that books, however well they sold or how well they were written, frequently are not so fragile as the flesh of the writer, and that allows the books to be more lasting that the authors themselves. We write, therefore, perhaps to leave something of us behind for future generations, but more likely for those future generations simply to take note that we passed this way before them. A paper-printed work may not be thought to be as durable as granite engraving, but it tells so much more about the person than the stone alone.
And all this is simply one man’s opinion.
~ * ~
Contributed by Jim Woods, author of Champagne Books Assassination Safari, Parting Shot and Gunshot Echoes.
When I was a young boy in Kentucky around the end of World War Two, a man in our neighborhood had a pastry delivery truck. In time, I was to learn that he was an independent operator, a franchise holder, although the truck carried the signage of the commercial bakery that supplied the products he dealt in. I know now that he serviced an exclusive area that he had acquired through lease or purchase. The retail stores within his territory, if they wanted to carry his baker’s brands of cakes, pies and snack cakes, had to deal with him. Although I did not grasp the franchise theory at the time, I did eventually learn about franchises and profit commerce in general.
The unfathomable mystery to me at the time was why, when the route man retrieved the outdated pastries from the store shelves, and replaced them with fresh ones, that he did not give away the day-old or two-day-old pastries. I coveted them, and I was not alone. Practically everyone in the neighborhood was poor, although most had jobs. My brother and I added to the family income by mowing lawns behind a push mower, sometimes for the princely sum of twenty cents. Mostly we got a dime to share. But those dimes could never be spent on a snack cake, but we were tempted.
The pastry route man was one of our lawn-mowing clients, so we had access twice a month to his back yard in order to perform our work. Several were the occasions when we saw him sprinkle kerosene on a pile of mouth-watering but shelf-dated cellophane wrapped pastries, and touch off a match to them. They smelled so good when they burned, and we were confused and angry at what we saw as awful waste. Other times when our lawn mowing didn’t happen to coincide with the ritual cake fires, the circular mound of ashes in the middle of the lawn that we mowed was a reminder of cakes gone up in smoke without sating any sweet tooth. The man did not even tip us with a small snack cake, but paid us our dime apiece. His was a big back yard, thus the double dimes.
At some time in my understanding of ways of the world, I came to realize that if he had given away his outdated pastries, the recipients soon would come to expect the largess on schedule, and the stores would not sell his fresh cakes; the store patrons in the neighborhood knowing that if they were patient, those day or two-day-old cakes would come to them free. The store would lose out on retail sales and the route man would suffer loss of his wholesale business.
Moving on, in my later adult life, I was privileged to hunt in Africa on several occasions. The reasons and conditions don’t matter; I was there. In South Africa, safari operations frequently are conducted on farms and ranches where crops and domestic animals share the land. Those farms and ranches largely are not as mechanized as similar operations in the United States, and for sound reasons in the country’s economic structure. They have large numbers of personnel to serve as farm workers, and the government at the time encouraged the farmers to employ more hired help than they needed, with attendant lower wages spread over more recipients. As might be concluded from such an arrangement, those workers were near the bottom of the economic scale, although part of their wages was basic food rations. Those rations did not include fancy cuts of meat, but may have included the lesser and non-marketable pieces, and even entrails that the workers found acceptable as food.
On one occasion, on a cattle ranch that also was home to a safari outfit, a cow was discovered in the bush, down and disabled with a broken leg, presumably from stepping into a hole or possibly from stumbling during panicked retreat from a predator. Buzzards were chased from the scene but not before having just started to pick on the still-live cow. The animal had to be destroyed. The farmer used the same method of destruction as the cake man. After shooting the cow, he doused the carcass with diesel fuel and ignited it, and we hung around until he was satisfied that the carcass was completely consumed.
Up to that point, I had suggested that since the animal was still alive and meat was still fresh, it could have been salvaged, for workers’ rations if nothing else. But his reasoning was that if he gave the meat to his workers, he would find other cows meeting similar accidents every time they wanted meat. I understood his implication. He was in the beef business. Like the cake man, he couldn’t give away the product without adversely impacting the market value of the rest of his product.
I was witness to almost the same scenario another time and locale in Africa. This time it was a game animal, a wildebeest that was down, and duly reported to the farm owner by one of his black staff that had discovered it. We drove out to investigate and the animal was indeed freshly dead, but without apparent cause. The farmer/safari outfitter performed an autopsy in the field, and pronounced the animal expired of “heart water”--fluid around the heart. According to the farmer, it was fairly common for this particular species in this region, and usually caused by the animal being pursued until it dropped, by man or other predator. So while he had lost an animal for which guest hunters would have paid a substantial trophy fee, he also refused to permit the meat to be salvaged for his crew. To give away his product would have been to invite further animals pursued till their hearts stopped too. Like the other South African farmer, and the cake man, the no longer saleable merchandise was destroyed.
In addition to being a writer and author, I’m also an editor, by a lifetime of education, training and experience. I’ve been around the business long enough to know that independent editors’ livelihood comes from paid commissions for their editing services rendered to private individuals or corporation clients. All too often, the private author requesting editing of his book manuscript or short story is hurt or angered when the editor lays out a fee structure for his editing expertise and work. Those editors seemingly are expected to work for nothing, or for goodwill. But like the cake man in Kentucky and the game farmers in South Africa, most professional editors do not devalue their product by giving it away. So unless the requestor is a very close friend of the editor, or unless that editor volunteers his editing skills, don’t expect them to work for nothing. Their time and experience have value from which they are entitled to benefit, and that’s the frosting on their cake.
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Contributed by Jim Woods, author of Champagne Books Assassination Safari, Parting Shot and Gunshot Echoes.
It’s a given that our world is shrinking, through education, ease of travel, the Internet, and most notably in commerce. Products made in countries other than our own—this assuming this essay is presented in the United States, but with deference to the just referenced Internet, it obviously may be read anywhere around the world.
But to make my point, we in the United States have become increasingly dependent on automobiles and electronics made in Germany, Japan and Korea—even my brand new American brand name laser printer is made in Viet Nam—and a myriad of commercial items ranging from furniture to toys from China and Mexico; clothing from Honduras, Thailand, and India; and foods from all over the world.
And the latter brings to mind my millennium cruise around South America and our layover in Argentina. I discovered the piquant meat sauce, chimmi churri, and tried to buy up the local supply so as to not go without it, once back home.It wasn’t all that easy to find but I did find a few bottles in a hole-in-the-wall grocery on a back street in Punta Alta.I bought the entire stock, only to find that at home, a popular specialty grocery routinely stocked all the chimmi churri I ever could use. So much for my pioneering discovery.
I shouldn’t be surprised at any “made in” label these days, but I was. My wife purchased a pair of Gloria Vanderbilt Capris, those three-quarter length pants that the ladies like.The tag displayed the exotic information: Made in Jordan, Hecho in Jordania, and Fait au Jordanie. The tag also recorded the fabric data: 98 percent cotton, 2 percent Spandex; 98 percent algdon (which has to be “cotton” but in what language, I haven’t a clue), 2 percent Spandex; and 98 percent coton, 2 percent Spandex. I thought it interesting that Spandex is universal while cotton can be spelled in numerous ways.
I’ve been to Jordan in my travels, but never considered the historic country to be a source of clothing for commercial availability outside its own boundaries. Had I associated textiles with the country’s products at all, I probably would have limited my uneducated assumption to rugs and carpets. But we were intrigued that the Capri pants came from Jordan. I think that was a determining reason for buying them. Jordan is among the more exotic places we have traveled.
Well, that and the Gloria Vanderbilt label, plus the fact that my wife earlier had purchased another set of Capris of the same label that became one her favorite casual garments. Strangely, we came to realize, that even though the label and size of both sets of Capris were identical, and even the style and cut too, the Jordanian product did not fit.The same set of Capris in a different fabric and color, but made in Sri Lanka, did fit. That was a huge disappointment for my wife—an article of clothing that she knew she liked, and this particular sample from Jordan, a country that she truly appreciates—then the letdown of not being able to wear the clothing.Did we blame the retail store for the disappointment? Did we blame the Gloria Vanderbilt fashion house for not holding to the same size standards wherever the garment was produced? No. We misdirected our blame to Jordan, the country.
Several years back when the car was introduced, I purchased my BMW Z3 roadster that was built in South Carolina, not Germany from where all BMWs should come.A subsequent year model of the car was equipped with integral roll hoops behind the two seats, and a factory kit using the same hardware became available for retrofitting some past models, mine included. I signed on for the kit and for the dealer installation.Although I never had the kit in my personal possession—it was shipped to the dealer who installed it—I did receive the installation manual that was part of the kit once the job was done.
Although the car itself is manufactured, or assembled at least, in the United States, many of the components come from other countries. The engine is from Canada, the remote alarm/entry fob is made in Japan; and many of the lesser hardware parts do originate in Germany. That installation instruction book also originated in Germany, and in fact was printed in German. The contents page included text in several languages though, simply because there was an entry titled “Secondary Languages.”Flipping through the illustrated instructions finally revealed instructions in those secondary languages, among which was English. That’s a bit of culture shock for anyone whose language is English to have that language listed among the secondary languages of the world.
Subsequently, while in South Africa, our cruise ship laying over in Port Elizabeth, I somehow discovered that the city was home to an auto license registry facility. Not too unique, I suppose, the city being the hub of a major commercial region of the country. Anyhow, I got the brilliant idea to acquire a South African license plate for my BMW Z3. My home state requires only a rear license plate, and front license place spaces are ripe grounds for expressing personal interests—religion, politics and devotion to alma mater—just about any message. (I “heart” my cocker spaniel.)
The South African license plates at the time were long and narrow, completely dissimilar to the standard rectangle design of U.S. plates. It was but little trouble getting a custom plate expressing my affection of BMWs. South Africa requires both front and rear plates, with equipment violations cited for not having both or for having a damaged one. I found the license registry and convinced the clerk that my front plate had been crumpled in a crash and I needed a replacement. I presented a sheet of paper with my personally composed license legend spelled out, paid the fees, and the attendant disappeared behind closed doors for a few minutes, and returned with a freshly stamped, black lettering on yellow background, license plate to my specifications. The receipt for my payment actually was a record of registration of my vehicle in South Africa, but of course the car has never been driven there.I convinced myself that I could gently bend the elongated plate to the curvature of the front bumper of my Z3 roadster.
We sailed on, stopping next at the cruise terminus, Cape Town, where we were accommodated in a day room at a public structure till our homeward flights were scheduled for departure. The building just happened to be the BMW Pavilion.
With the BMW name and logo adorning the structure, it was quite normal that a portion of the ground floor was devoted to display of BMW automobiles, motorcycles, and accessories. The Z3 Roadster was the current hot item; my own Z3 that I reluctantly had left at home for my cruise was barely a month old. The Z3 on polished display at the pavilion was my main interest, but not for the steering wheel curiously being on the wrong side, but for the front license plate area. The display roadster was fitted with an interface structure that adapted the unique South Africa license plate to the lines of the roadster front bumper. I had to have one of those molded fixtures to go with the license plate that was packed in my luggage.
The pavilion was strictly an informational display—vehicles or accessories could not be purchased. A formally suited host did aid me in locating the local BMW dealership, including making the phone call to make sure the license plate fixture was in stock before I spent a lot of rands for the cross-city cab ride.I anticipated the enjoyment of not only returning to my Z3 but also adorning it with the license plate and the obviously unique accessory for my car that would tie my treasures together. The part was wrapped in clear plastic sheeting with a small black-on-white adhesive label that declared the part number, etcetera, but the manufacturing point of origin was deflating—it was not made in South Africa but in South Carolina from where all Z3s are assembled!
The combining of affections for my roadster and the country of South Africa still is in place, and my front license plate draws the requisite inquiries from passersby and observers.The real rear license plate later became a point of interest too when I found a frame that declares the driver to have been a “Destroyer Sailor,” and announces the name of that honorable ship, U.S.S Harry E. Hubbard, DD748. That molded plastic frame—it’s made in China. That’s okay too, While aboard Hubbard half a century past, on another less-luxury cruise, we ported in Hong Kong for several days. It all comes home that indeed ours is a small planet, full of wondrous things.
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Contributed by Jim Woods, author of Champagne Books Assassination Safari,Parting Shot and Gunshot Echoes.
Jim:Hi, Carol Costa, and welcome to the Champagne Books blog site and author interview forum. Tell us all about Carol Costa, author, playwright, literary agent, mother, grandmother, accountant and gambler in twenty-five words or less. Sorry . . . Times up!
Carol:I demand a continuance to make my case.
Jim: Okay, but is sounds like you may be planning to testify about cops and perps and characters that get between them. Did you ever write any crime mysteries?What are you doing for Champagne Books?
Carol:I’ve written in several different genres and have published both fiction and nonfiction, but my books with Champagne have allowed me to combine the two fiction elements that I am most interested in writing about: mystery and the paranormal.
My first published book with Champagne is Invisible Force featuring a ghost who comes back to the house where she was murdered to find her killer. Champagne also has accepted another novel, Ask Aunt Emma, for release in March 2010. The main character in that book is investigating a murder, aided by the spirit of her dead husband.
Jim: Both those sound like something we may all want to read. But give us some detail about some of your other published works.
Carol:Since I have a background in accounting and taxes, I have written four financial titles for Penguin USA. They are Teach Yourself Accounting in 24 Hours;Teach Yourself Bookkeeping in 24 Hours;The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Surviving Bankruptcy; and the latest book due out in December, The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Starting and Running a Thrift Store.
I also have the Dana Sloan mystery series and two romance novels published by Avalon Books as well as a romantic suspense novel. Last but not least is a great short story collection I did with Jim Woods, titled, Olla Podrida.
Jim: That’s a lifetime of writing. Do you find any time for reading? What sort of writing from someone else can pull you away from writing your own books?
Carol: I enjoy all kinds of books, but mainly read what I like to write, and that’s mysteries
Jim: There must be distractions, or I should say, equally important interests and activities that compete with your writing time. What takes up your time beyond writing and maybe reading? I suspect that like all the rest of us, family is foremost among those priorities.
Carol: I am the mother of four, the grandmother of six. My husband and I baby-sit for our two youngest grandchildren everyday and they are a joy. I’m also the treasurer of two nonprofit organizations: The Society of Southwestern Authors and the St. Vincent De Paul Conference at my church.
Jim:I know that you write and produce plays. What’s that all about?
Carol: I actually started my writing career as a playwright and a journalist. My plays have been produced in New York Off-Off Broadway and in a number of regional theaters. One of my plays, The Last Decent Crooks, has just been published.Live theater is my first love and I run a Readers Theater from time to time.
Jim: Have your works that were published originally as books or short stories gone the stage play route? Or perhaps the other way? Has a play gone later to print, or are the two disciplines mutually exclusive?
Carol: I have converted some of my one-act plays into short stories that have been published, and into audio scripts that have been produced, but I keep the full-length plays I have written as stage material only.
Jim:Okay, you’re the gambling guru according to the Video Poker title that’s displayed on your website next to your books on accounting and bookkeeping. How do you reconcile the disciplines of accounting and gambling in your collective works? Are you cooking the books?
Carol:Despite the fact that everyone knows I love to gamble, my nonprofit groups still trust me with their funds. My financial background causes me to analyze anything that has to do with money, so I’m a conservative player, always looking for ways to beat the odds. My years of research led to writing the book on gambling, Video Poker: Play Longer With Less Risk.
Jim: Other than the upcoming release from Champagne, Ask Aunt Emma, what do you have in work that we may read in the future?
Carol: My agent is marketing a historical novel based on the true story of the House of David, a religious colony in Benton Harbor, Michigan where my family owned a summer home. I’m also collaborating with an infamous New Orleans madam on a book called, From the Cat House to the Dog House. And of course I have other Dana Sloan mysteries in the works.
Jim: Where have you lived and where would you like to, and how do your travel experiences, places and people, impact your writing?
Carol: I was born and raised in Chicago. We moved to Tucson, Arizona, in 1973 because our oldest daughter had health problems that benefited from the dry climate. I have traveled all over Europe and my favorite places were London and Rome. I guess I still like big cities but am content to live in Tucson.It’s the people I met while traveling that have influenced my writing the most. I use a lot of my experiences with them in my books.
Jim:Case dismissed. Thank you Carol, for letting the Champagne authors and readers gain a glimpse into your busy life and career.If they wish to contact you personally, or professionally, how can they get in touch?
Carol:They can visit my website: www.carolcostaauthor.com and send me e-mails at ccstarlit@aol.com. I’m happy to hear from readers and answer any questions they might have about my books.
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Interview contributed by Jim Woods, author of Champagne Books Assassination Safari,Parting Shot and Gunshot Echoes.
Jim:Hi, R.M. Parrish, and welcome to the Champagne blog site and author interview forum. Authors all have good reasons for their pseudonyms, and I respect your choice, but can you share with Champagne authors and friends the name behind the initials?
R.M:Hello, Jim, thanks to you and the Champagne blog for inviting me here today. I work as an actress under the name Robyne Parrish, so I choseR.M. to differentiate myself from… well… myself, as it were.
Jim: I do want to ask about the acting side of your life, but first, let’s talk books. Tell us about your writing and particularly your upcoming Champagne Books title.
R.M:I generally write romance for Young Adults. My new title with Champagne, Love, Savannah is my first go at novel for adults. It is a historical romance that’s mostly in keeping with my YA stuff, but I do have one YA book that is contemporary romance. My debut novel Robbie Lee and the Wilds of Houston Valley was released 2007, and has received some very good reviews.It is a historical fiction novel based on the life of my grandmother who grew up during the Great Depression. The story has been compared to Little House On the Prairie, by Laura Wilder, if you like that sort of story telling. I grew up on it and love it.
Jim: Everyone was something else before becoming a writer and author. Now’s the time to tell us about your day job.
R.M:Well, as I admitted earlier, I am an actress. I have been in the theatre since I was five years old, so, for over thirty years!Jim, did you trick me into revealing my age? Just kidding – actually, I have never been afraid to admit my age. I think women get better with age, like good wine. People in general do, really.
Anyway, theatre is the thing I have always wanted to excel at. Writing, on the other hand, has always just been a part of who I am. I kept a diary since I could write, and have been writing stories and poetry since I was a child – like most writers it was my way of expressing myself and maybe getting rid of some extra stress and energy! I am also a teacher, currently enrolled in a Masters program for theatre and pedagogy, which meansteaching at the college level. This fall will be my second year teaching freshman at Point Park University in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
Jim: If we may return to books, I find that most writers are avid readers. If that applies to you, what do you read when you find time in your apparently very busy schedule?
R.M:I try to read the type of book I want to tackle next as a writer. Lately that is medieval romance! I also try to read books by my peers, other authors from my publishing house. I want to support other writers when I can. I read a lot for school as well… a lot of plays especially. I have very little time to read outside of this. Additionally I’m finishing a Masters program in Psychology fall, on line, so you can imagine my reading list is rather long!
I can tell you some of my favorite books as a girl (I love YA books and books for children): At the Back of the North Wind – by George McDonald (my absolute number one favorite book), The Wizard of Oz series, (all of them of course), ANYTHING Sherlock Holmes by Sir Author Conan Doyle, A Little Princess and The Secret Garden. I am a big fan of Anne of Green Gables books as well and of course, Little House.
Jim: We know that Little House made it as a big success on the little screen, but what big screen movies do you count among your favorites? Did they evolve from any of your favorite books?
R.M: The Wizard of Oz is far and away my favorite movie on the big screen. So yes, this did evolve from my love for Frank L Baum or maybe it was the other way around. In fact, I think I saw the film before I read the book.
Jim: Champagne authors are placed all over the world; where do we put the R.M. Parrish map pin?If you were to relocate that pin, where would you punch it in?
R.M: I grew up in the South, in the Carolinas, both North and South, but I live between New York City and Pittsburgh right now. My husband lives in New York in our apartment there. I wanted to live in NYC my entire life, for as long as I could remember and of course, that is where you go to act!
Jim: Is there any place else in the world you’d like to travel, or even possibly live?
R.M.:I spent a summer in London, studying at the Royal National Theatre. I would not mind living there for a time, but not forever. I would like to retire in the South eventually, in Charleston, South Carolina.
Jim: As a writer, what sort of support do you have from family?Tell us about your family—husband, children, dogs and cats—not necessarily in that order.
R.M: My husband is extremely supportive. He designs games for the IPHONE, or apps as they are called. He’s the visionary. He has his own company www.canned-bananas.comHe started out as a visual artist and he is very talented. No kids yet, but five birds!!I know – it is a lot! Three parakeets and two finches. Their names are Monkey, Banana, Jack, Dash and Snow.
Jim: Okay, enough about books and stages and films and birds. Tell us something about R.M. that we really don’t need to know. Who is R.M. Parrish when not behind the keyboard or not in front of the camera?
R.M: I am a crazy workaholic; a total addict. I cannot stop working and always have tons of stuff going on. I am very driven, but I am a late bloomer. I have learned to be patient with myself over the years. Things don’t come easily to me. I have to work for them. I am an entrepreneur much like my father and grandfather.
Jim: Anything else?
R.M: Hmmmm, I guess a good secret is I am an introvert although I appear to be an extravert. And I LOVE Michael Jackson.
Jim: Thank you so much, R.M., for revealing yourself to us here briefly. Our members and readers just may wish to contact you personally, or professionally; can they get in touch with you privately?
