Tag Archives: prose

Coffee & Conversation: How to keep your characters from being interchangeable? (2/2)

11 Monday Oct 2021

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How to keep your characters from feeling interchangeable? (2/2)

Last week I talked about making sure each character from a specific book feels unique. Today I’m going to talk about the second way characters can feel interchangeable.

That is, from book to book each point of view character reads just like the last point of view character. This is an issue that will lead to burn-out from your readers, because well, if you’ve read one, you’ve read them all! That’s…not a response you want your readers to have. You want them to feel like your stories are all experiences, each one wonderful, but so very different.

There’s a few ways to help make sure you don’t fall into the trap of the same-old, same-old point of view character just with serial numbers filed off and a new name and face slapped on.

VOICE

In my previous post, I mostly talked about character, but this time around, I’m talking voice. When writing from a perspective, you’re writing with a specific voice in mind. That voice will dictate EVERYTHING in a story.

Description: What does this point of view character notice? What would they take time to examine? What makes them perk up? What makes them passionate? What could they study for hours?

A good example you can check out is Agatha Christie’s Cards on the Table. In this novel, Poirot interviews four different characters, all of whom describe the exact same room where a murder took place. Each of those four characters gives a vastly different description based on their personalities. Reading those differences and how it affects the story is a great example for understanding how to focus a particular character’s voice when crafting the description of a setting. (Please note: I’m more talking about points of view that are character-driven in some way, since in objective view would preclude a description via a person’s view.)

Inner Dialogue/Musing: What does this character care about? What are they constantly thinking about? What is important to them? What sneaks in when it shouldn’t? What isn’t there that another character would have noticed? Continue reading →

Canvas Blues – LXXXIII: Present

06 Wednesday Oct 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXXXIII: Present

“It wasn’t Casey’s Mustang. The cops found no evidence of blood or…anything. No evidence of it being cleaned. They went through both Casey’s mom’s house and dad’s and they were thorough. He’d been poor enough…”

Orion and Brendon lay against the bed, Brendon staring straight up at the ceiling and its dusty fan, Orion twisted onto his side, hand propping up his head. All attentive, likely stripping Brendon’s expressions into finely-tuned blocks of information to file away.

Brendon took another long breath before continuing. “He’d been poor enough that he didn’t have resources others did. Didn’t have the ability to hide what he’d done. But without any evidence of the crime, the case only had circumstantial evidence with Casey’s word against Dylan’s death.”

“And what was Casey’s word?”

“That a completely different car came driving up and crushed Dylan.”

“What kind of car?”

“That’s the thing.” Brendon turned his head toward Orion. “He claimed, at least to the police, that he didn’t know.”

“But you said Casey loved cars. Knew them.”

“Exactly,” whispered Brendon.

Orion dragged his gaze all over Brendon’s face, like he was searching for something more. Then he twisted and lay flat on the bed, the two of them staring up at the blank ceiling like answers might pop free from the white paint.

“You think it was the Le Mans,” stated Orion. Continue reading →

Canvas Blues – LXXXII: Yesteryears

29 Wednesday Sep 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXXXII: Yesteryears

The cause of Dylan’s death was not revealed to Brendon; he was not kin nor friend, merely a witness who hadn’t witnessed anything. But he knew Dylan had been crushed. Slammed against the wall of the garage, shaking the foundations, the car then thrown in reverse to rev away with murder in its fender.

In the aftermath, Casey was a pariah in Castlebrock, blamed by proximity before due process took hold. Brendon’s parents forbid him from calling, at least until the situation resolved itself into some semblance of responsibility, citing many things as reason, some of them frail—such as “you need to focus on something positive”—some of them steeped in reality—such as “he’s a white boy; you’re not.”

That blue Mustang was confiscated as evidence based on Robbie and Brendon’s testimonies. Then was released from custody two months later. With no arrest.

Brendon overheard his parents talking one night, the rumor mill up and working overtime through the town.

“So they’re hunting for a different car? The one that hurt that boy?”

“Seems they can’t figure out what exactly happened.”

“But they know he was crushed.”

“Cross his torso, I’ve heard.”

Silence. Mom turning the water on to scrub out her teacup. The light chime of it hitting the counter as she set it down. Continue reading →

Coffee & Conversation: The best ways to expand your vocabulary?

27 Monday Sep 2021

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What are the best ways to expand your vocabulary?

As a writer, you never want to remain stagnant because then your phrases and plots and characters will all begin to blend together. Now some of this is unavoidable because you’re you and all your writing is coming from you and you will never not be you, but there are ways of working to teach yourself new things so that your stories don’t begin to blend together in reader minds.

One way is to expand your vocabulary that you might have new sentences, new metaphors, new ways of saying the same old things.

1) Read. A lot.

This one’s the most obvious and the most valuable. The more you read, the more words become familiar. Different authors have different vocabularies. Different genres use different base words. Because you’re given the word within context, you’re also usually able to guess its meaning to some degree, and the more you see that same word in different contexts, the more refined its meaning will become in your own mind.

By continuously reading, especially when you’re stretching yourself beyond your normal books or authors, you can cement more words that become a part of your normal vocabulary.

Though this one is the number one best way to expand your vocabulary, it’s also the one that is the least targeted. You’ll slowly morph over time, but perhaps not as quickly as you’d like.

2) Subscribe to a word-a-day.

If you’re just interested in introducing yourself to new words in general, this can be a good way to go about it. Especially if you subscribe to one that also lists the etymology behind the word, as story tends to help you remember things better. This way, you’ll begin to pick up new words, especially if you consciously attempt to use them in your stories. Continue reading →

Canvas Blues – LXXXI: Yesteryears

22 Wednesday Sep 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXXXI: Yesteryears

Fire hung in the air. The rubbery kind that tasted of oil and street-races and midnight hours.

Yet it was midday. The sun poured in brightly, flashing against the Mercedes and BMW in the garage. A smoke lingered in the air, just grey enough to be visible.

Brendon caught a flash of blue as the Mustang turned the corner down the street, taking Casey far, far away.

Robbie shouted. And shouted. But from a distance. From a distance that crawled further and further away. Into a dreamland. Into a state Brendon wasn’t sure existed, yet there he was, dwelling in it.

Crumbled against the wall, below where the bikes still hung, lay Dylan. A mass of maroon and limpness. A mess of limbs and brokenness. A lump of death, but Brendon didn’t know in that awful moment.

All he knew was Robbie shouting. All he knew was Casey running. All he knew was the phone in the Westerman’s house was black and cordless and its buttons slipped under his fingers as he pressed them and stuttered into the void so that help might come and fix a horrible mistake…that didn’t look much like a mistake.

~~~~~~~~~

Next Chapter Coming September 29th

Canvas Blues – LXXX: Present

15 Wednesday Sep 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXXX: Present

Orion broke the kiss first, but kept himself close, their lips still touching, Brendon’s heart battering against his chest and his mind a wash of color that refused to take on shapes that would make sense of this moment. He resisted the moan that wanted to escape his throat. Resisted the urge to grab Orion and drag him backward on the bed. Resisted even the urge to shove his tongue back into Orion’s mouth.

Because Casey stared down at them knowingly, watching their clothing get tight.

“I’m sitting here, in your bedroom,” said Orion. “Which means you know, you believe, that this painting of this old car did something to someone you cared about.”

Brendon twisted his neck slightly, just enough he could see the wall out of the corner of his eye where Casey’s shining smile grew ever more glorious. Youth and freedom and hope. That was why he’d hidden the painting in the back of the closet, behind a dozen others. Youth and freedom and hope, all things that had felt so possible then. Impossible now.

Guilt seized him.

“You want to tell me about it. About the pain,” said Orion.

“Is this why you kissed me?” asked Brendon dryly as he set his glass down on the carpet at his feet. “Seducing the man you think powerful enough to kill through his paintings so I shed some secret?”

“I’m seducing a man I find handsome.” Orion’s hand slid up further till the crotch in Brendon’s jeans forced a stop. But there he curled his fingers so they pressed against the underside of Brendon’s balls, thumb landing casually against the base of Brendon’s cock. “Could tell you how incredibly attractive you are, especially when you get that look in your eye, the one that says you’re not quite seeing what I’m seeing. There’s a part of me that wonders… Wonders just how powerful you truly are.” Orion murmured those final words directly into Brendon’s ear, then dragged teeth against his lobe, a tongue along his neck, while his fingers massaged a gentle rhythm against his jeans. “I am sorry about your friend though.”

“My friend…” whispered Brendon. Continue reading →

Coffee & Conversation: Contract Terms Series (Attribution)

06 Monday Sep 2021

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Contract Terms Series (IANAL)

There’s a bunch of contract terms for writers that can be difficult to parse for newcomers to the genre, so I want to go over a few in a short, easy contract terms series.

(Note: I am not a lawyer. I am merely speaking from experience on the author side.)

ATTRIBUTION

This is an easy one and is mostly in reference to pen names, but ultimately, anyone who wants to be attributed probably needs to have at least something written in their contract about it.

Attribution is just how you, as the author, will be attributed within/on the book. IE, your author name and your copyright on the copyright page, etc.

This is important particularly for pen names because legal documents are written up with the use of your legal name for legal reasons. Which can mean that the author’s pen name/name they want to be attributed as, isn’t anywhere on the page UNLESS some form of attribution phrasing is used somewhere in the contract.

It’s a small thing, but very important for a lot of people.

In other words, make sure they have a legal requirement to get your names right :)

~Emmi

Canvas Blues – LXXVIII: Yesteryears

01 Wednesday Sep 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXXVIII: Yesteryears

Dylan’s garage—with its nice gym equipment, with its fancy bikes on their fancy hooks on the wall, with its expensive cars that didn’t even include the one his parents were driving that wasn’t there at the moment—had this open, hollow feel to it despite the four of them taking up so much space, filling the air with intensity and riled hormones.

In the driveway, the Mustang glared them down with sun-reflecting headlights splotchy from dirt roads far from here. The gentle warmth of an autumn breeze coasted down the street ruffling HOA-controlled lawns with a hoity-toity attitude. Like the breeze had stepped up on the social ladder when it soured over Ol’ North Main.

“Your friend,” said Dylan, with an eye roll at the word “friend” as he turned to Robbie, “thinks he can just barge into my house. But, man, I don’t want lice. Mom would kill me.” But he smiled as he said it, reminding Brendon of when Dylan had pestered Donna Pierceman with idiotic questions during art class, as if art was beneath him, a useless endeavor when one could be a lawyer, a doctor, an upstanding member of society rather than playing finger-paints.

“Lice,” snapped Casey. “I’ll give you lice.” And he stepped forward, fist pulled back, but slow-like. As if Casey were thinking about punching Dylan rather than having already decided to do it.

Brendon grabbed his arm. “He’s just being a dick, trying to rile you up.”

Dylan laughed, a giggle almost, a lilting up and down sound that rankled along Brendon’s spine in a pitter-patter of condescension and classism. Robbie had hopped the steps by now, had approached with concern Ving across his forehead. He gave Dylan a light punch in the arm, one of those hey-stop-it, but hey-you’re-kind-of-right sorts of jabs.

“No one thinks you have lice, Case,” said Robbie. “But what are you doing here?”

“No one invited you,” added Dylan.

“That’s damn obvious,” said Casey. “Can’t invite the folks from the wrong end of Castlebrock, can you? Or is it just those you can use?”

Brendon rocked back, putting space between him and Casey. Use. The thought hadn’t occurred to him before, and now, with it chilling in the air between the four of them, he wondered, casting Robbie a glance as the idea of it percolated insidiously, round and round, without any real logical sense to its confines. Continue reading →

Coffee & Conversation: Contract Terms Series (Right of First Refusal)

30 Monday Aug 2021

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Contract Terms Series (IANAL)

There’s a bunch of contract terms for writers that can be difficult to parse for newcomers to the genre, so I want to go over a few in a short, easy contract terms series.

(Note: I am not a lawyer. I am merely speaking from experience on the author side.)

RIGHT OF FIRST REFUSAL

This is a fun one. This is the right of the publisher to see an associated work/story before any other competitors. I say “associated” here, but in some cases that isn’t necessary.

Essentially, let’s say you are signing a contract for one book with your publisher. You want to write sequels to this book. The publisher thinks the book might do well. But no one knows the future. So, instead of buying or optioning a second/third/etc. book, the publisher adds a clause that states they get the right to see any associated books (as in, associated with the book they’re buying) first. You would not then be allowed to submit any books involving the contracted book’s characters or setting, etc. to anyone other than that publisher.

They still have the right to refuse the book, of course, at which point you are free to shop the book anywhere you like. But if you were to sell that second/third/etc. book elsewhere without your contracted publisher getting a chance to say NO first, then you would be in breach of contract.

Also of note: Even if you submit this book and even if they offer you a contract for it, you, as the author, still have full rights to say NO to whatever the contract is. So in some extreme cases, when the author knows they won’t be working with a publisher anymore, this can turn slightly toxic, with a publisher holding onto a story for a prolonged period of time. Just for funsies, I guess.

Right of First Refusal can be applied to non-associated works as well. Ergo, the first book you write next, etc., though the language there is a little more generic and I’m not entirely sure how that would work. It can also be applied to all lengths and forms, as in you write a short story tie-in and the first refusal terminology wasn’t strict enough to ignore short stories. (This can happen even if the publisher doesn’t even TAKE short stories. So can be a little silly.)

When looking at your contract, make sure that 1) the right of first refusal is specific, and 2) that there is a specific time limit they must respond to once you have proof of submission.

~Emmi

Canvas Blues – LXXVII: Present

25 Wednesday Aug 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXXVII: Present

“I spent so many hours on that painting,” said Brendon. “It was a birthday present. There was this old car out in the forest at a dump site that Casey found when we were kids. A bunch of old cars, actually, but that one in particular he loved playing in. I wanted to give him something of it, but make it more alive.”

“Do you try to make things alive often in your paintings?”

Brendon rubbed his thumb over the divots in his glass. “You think that’s the clue, then? That if I try to make things alive that they might become so?”

“Just another thought. Trying to solve the mystery of Brendon Kotes.” The corner of Orion’s lips tugged up and those bright blue eyes, shadowed here in Brendon’s bedroom, all but shimmered with suggestion.

With a hard, hard breath, Brendon straightened, the action pressing their thighs closer together. Yet still, Orion didn’t pull away. So Brendon didn’t either, his heart beginning a painful thud as his sticky dreams from last night came sneaking through his mind, teasing, testing things that might not come.

“I’m not really a mystery.”

That corner tug slowly gave way to a gently warm smile filled with disbelief. “Then that must mean I am a much slower man than I always give myself credit for.” He leaned in as he spoke, gaze never leaving Brendon’s, not even when Brendon flicked his tongue out to wet dry lips in instinctual anticipation.

“You think highly of your abilities.”

“I do,” agreed Orion on a rumble that pulled straight from his throat like the deep purr of an engine. Then his lips touched Brendon’s in a gentle, coaxing question. The whiskey on his breath burned a track down into Brendon’s lungs. Continue reading →