Friday, July 31, 2015

Writing and Research - The Bare Bones

 
Even in the most imaginary stories of our time
you will find research as the backbone of the story
a platform for the characters
to take the stage in your hands
Books are such a rich and wonderful necessity to enrichment
of your life and yet most never pick up a book
while others are insatiable.
 
My first memories of reading were the Sunday comics
but my need to read became apparent when
I went through the encyclopedias at the age of four
beginning with the stories and going on to
real facts...what happened to encyclopedias?
I guess they became google
but they were in their time wonderful adventures.
 
I love to research the background of my stories
and generally get lost in the historical details of the times
and location in which I plot my romance
I would think that to write in a genre of the future would be easier
for you create the world but that world must
have some connection to the past and history to be realistic.
 
Fiction is about part reality and part imagination
the bare bones of your story must fall
on something that your readers can sit on with confidence
especially since my characters generally
not your average girl next door
so when you spin off challenging your readers
you must give them something that makes them comfortable.
 
That should be the end of the sentence
but there is the fine balance of too much history and not enough
it is like painting clouds on your canvas
to detail the history of time and place on the heavy side
will lose the attention of others and will also
make readers argue with your details
but to not have enough makes your story flimsy
but each story has it's own needs of details of the times in which
a character lives.
 
The greatest thing about researching is how much I learn
how many details I would have never known
or things that would have never been important in my life
research is my ultimate love
writing is my passion
and reading is something in my DNA.
 
barb

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Empaths Can Not Kill


Nor can we comprehend
   the simplicity of the human who can
We don't get anger so great
   that they end the light of another
Or adrenaline that is like great sex
   where you can look into the eyes
Of another creature, large or small
   and extinguish that life.
 
I understand the outrage of Cecil
but what about all the animals across the planet
that are mistreated, abused
and killed...
are vegetarians just empaths
who can't eat a cheeseburger without feeling?
I don't judge others
oh yes I do
I spent 40 years with a family
that shoots and hunts and fishes and whatever
and here I was a girl who couldn't hook
a worm because it would cause pain
it is I who is out of sync
who cringes at the thought of needless
killing...screw the
'we do it to eat crap' - eat an apple
Release the animals
before the series "Zoo" becomes reality
maybe the Raptors were killed off
way too early
for man does not fear even himself
and yet we are outraged
when man kills man.
oh well...I think I'll go back to worrying
about men wanting to keep
me pregnant, stupid and in the kitchen.
some days I don't like
men...not one bit.
 
barb

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Don't Do Tattoos

Don't do tattoos
I grew up in the military
where anchors and other things
were always
on the arms of friends
of my fathers
but I didn't really give much thought
at all to tattoos
until it became more than
sailors and motorcycle riders
and I think the ink
today
is very, very good
in fact
some of them are so good
that you are impressed beyond words
but
I had enough trouble
getting my ears pierced
in one of those mall stalls with
the zillions of earrings
and the gum smacking
tattooed girl with the big gun
that took pain
to a level of 'what the f*ck
I am good with just one ear done
really I am'
so you can imagine
without further ado
how far a man with a needle
would get
before I would flee naked
and screaming
in pain.
There's nothing you could write
upon any part of me
that would make
the pain bearable or even the
thought tolerable
nope...I don't do tattoos.
Not now
Not ever Not going to do
Tattoos.
[but he does have a nice ass don't you think?]
 
barb
 

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

New Book

 

 


Faberge Eggs and 1920s Boston
 
I have written a new story
that takes place in the 1920s in Boston
during the prohibition and before the crash of the stock market
at the moment I am cleansing the story
which is my term for
making sure the train stays on the track
from the opening word
to the final word
Much like following the Yellow Brick Road
where I get off track
or throw in characters or directions
that die without resolution
and without really adding to the storyline.
 
I always write off the cuff
no outlines
no little boxes filled with characters
or plots - I just start writing until I have some idea
what I want to elicit in the story
the hardest thing that I deal with is killing off a good character
it is much like the GPS
sending you down the wrong street
in a neighborhood that you have never been in
and you have to take a deep breath
and find your way back.
 
So the main character and I are trying
to define the road we are travelling
without losing any readers
and hopefully those reviewers who never get to the story
due to their inability to not critique
the non-story parts of a book
will just not want to read my work anymore
they are useful and sometimes
their 'know it all' attitude drives me insane
but honestly I have never cared
about the other stuff
for it is the story that I am looking forward to.
A review that is based on your personal
quirks does nothing to improve
a writer's ability to tell a story.
 
barb


Saturday, July 4, 2015

4th of July

I can only surmise
of the struggles for independence
to chart a future
the archaic methods of communication
the loyalties
the hard days of providing
just the things needed to survive
we struggle as a world
where ownership of a plot of land
and the people thereon
drives us to shed
our blood and nail our principles
to the stately oak tree
independence
is an illusion which is never exposed
for we believe
despite reality of our history
it is something
we somehow, somewhere achieved
it's an illusion
without the stage and smoke
the gilded mirror
aging in our presence as we believe
we are now forever free.
 
barb