It’s a Birthday Party!

No, it’s not my birthday, it’s the birthday of Second Wind Publishing, LLC. The first book was published exactly one year ago today, and now there are almost thirty, including two of mine (with a third on the way.)

 

I have no doubts of the success of Second Wind. Mike Simpson has the uncanny ability of getting his authors involved in the business, challenging us to expand our abilities beyond the scope of writing. He’s gotten die-hard thriller writers to edit romances. He’s gotten shy authors to do book signings. And somehow (still don’t know how) he’s gotten me to become Second Wind’s promotion co-ordinator. Okay, I do know how. He genuinely likes the books he publishes, and says the most wonderful things about them. In an introduction to my 100-word stories that were included in the romance anthology, Love is on the Wind, Mike wrote: “Pat Bertram, author of the newly released duo of suspense novels, More Deaths Than One and A Spark of Heavenly Fire, is a writer who defies categories, a literary maverick whose stories transcend genre and transport readers to beguiling worlds filled with compelling characters.”

So, stop by and join the celebration!

Ten Lessons I Learned (The Hard Way): A Publisher’s Reflections on the First Year
What Second Wind Book Do You Wish to Read? You Might Get Your Wish!
Introducing the authors of Second Wind!

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To Trust or Not to Trust?

I recently helped run a short story contest for Second Wind Publishing, LLC — the first contest that was sponsored solely by the company — and it went smoothly. Until last week. That’s when we found out one of the finalists had copied a story from another writer who had posted it on the Internet. Whoooo. So not the thing to do!

Deborah J Ledford, a friend and fellow author keeps warning me about posting my writing on the Internet since such episodes are not uncommon, but I still persist in posting just about everything I write except for my novels. And even then, I post the first chapters on various sites. It might be prudent to be careful of what I post, but I have only one way of selling my books — getting known. And the only way I have of getting known is to write articles, bloggeries, mini fiction (100 word stories), whatever my brain can conjure up in the hopes of attracting some attention.

The way I figure it, a person can decide to trust everyone and post at will or distrust everyone and never post. So far, it’s been worth the risk. One of my blog posts was copied once, but I notified Google, and they made the people remove it. More importantly, I have made many friends because of my posts. I’d hate to have to worry about posting what I write — what new friends might I end up not meeting if I curtailed my writing? Still, it’s something to be aware of.

See also:
Plagiarism by Mike Simpson, Second Wind publisher

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Something Ew and Different

So, did you miss me? I bet you didn’t even know I was gone. I went to Las Vegas to a surprise birthday party for my brother, and I couldn’t talk about it beforehand since I didn’t want to be the one to un-surprise him. It was fun, though the town is wasted on me — I forgot to gamble. I guess I’ll have to find another way to get rich. I know! I’ll write a book, become a bestselling author, and make millions. Are you laughing, too? It would have been better for me to be a bettor.

I was hoping that by leaving the promotion conundrum behind perhaps my subconscious would work out the problem for me, and I would suddenly know how to sell tons of books, but no enlightenment came my way. I did discover that I’m not as addicted to the internet as I thought I was. I didn’t even miss it.

What I didn’t miss this time were the sex scene fountains — I finally got a chance to see them. It was like meeting a celebrity since I’d seen them many times . . . in movies. (What Planet Are You From is the only one that comes to mind at the moment.) During the sex scenes, the director showed the fountains at the Bellagio climaxing instead of the couple, so I call them the sex scene fountains, though I don’t imagine the Bellagio publicity department would appreciate the moniker.

What else happened? I met some online friends, which was a kick. After about thirty seconds to readjust the mental image, it was as if we’d known each other for years. Which we had.

I also got reacquainted with a nephew who is studying visual arts, and we decided to collaborate on a graphic novel. I’ll do the writing, he’ll do the art. He doesn’t want me to research how to write a graphic novel because he says that way I’ll write something totally new and redefine the genre. We’ll see. Should be interesting since I’ve never even seen a graphic novel. So now I have two writing projects that I’m not working on. One of these days I’ll get busy. I promise.

Meantime, as a lesson in how important copyediting is, I took a photo of a sign at a restaurant. One letter does matter!

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I Received an Invitation to be a Speaker at a Writer’s Conference!

My fame is spreading! Well,  maybe it’s not my fame that’s spreading, maybe it’s just my name. Or perhaps they are the same? Yikes, writing like that would never get into one of my novels. Inadvertant rhymes? That won’t do! Still, the sentiment is true. Someone, somewhere has heard of me, because yesterday I received an invitation to be a speaker at a writer’s conference!

Scribblers’ Retreat Writers’ Conference would like to cordially invite Pat
Bertram to be a guest speaker for one of our four conferences in 2010. We
have ten speakers for each conference and four conferences annually.

Scribblers’ Retreat Writers’ Conference is an international, non-profit,
literary arts organization dedicated to bringing together “those who have
made it” to “those who want to”. By creating the most innovative,
educational, and dynamic symposiums composed of the literary elite, we offer
those attending a unique opportunity to learn from and socialize with the
people they admire. This is a way to impart your talents to the global
community; to make a difference.

The conferences are held on beautiful St. Simons Island, Georgia. You will
be able to take advantage of the tranquil atmosphere provided by live oaks
and beaches, the history and art, ghost and dolphin tours, or even climb the
old light house.

Please look at your calendar to see which dates would be more preferable and
browse our website below. Join us in this grand endeavor in literacy and in
fulfilling dreams of success.

To talk about writing in a gorgeous place? Sounds like a dream. I have to choose a single topic, though. Hmmm. Which should it be: Style and technique? Networking? Writing support groups and blogs? I’ll get back to you — and them — about that.

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Creatures of the Corn

When he entered the cornfield and saw the stalks closing in over his head, his heart beat faster and icy beads of sweat chilled his brow. He wiped his clammy hands on his pants and forced himself to relax.

He looked around. A wide path cut through the corn, and the tall stalks afforded some protection from the incessant wind.

He stopped short. What was that?

He listened, but did not hear anything out of the ordinary.

Man, you’ve got yourself spooked. Get your head straight!

As he hurried to catch up to Pippi, he heard the noise once more.

Was something shuffling through the corn?

He stopped.

Listened.

Heard only the wind rustling the dry corn stalks.

He started walking again. Straining his ears, he thought he could hear the sound of footsteps, not in sync with his but a fraction of a second later, like an echo.

Maybe it was an echo? It couldn’t be. He barely made any noise.

He moved faster; so did the furtive footsteps.

Pippi stopped and waited for him. “Did you hear something?” she asked. “I thought I heard footsteps.”

“Me too.”

She shivered. “It’s like The Children of the Corn.”

He heard a metallic thunk. A rifle being cocked?

Without warning, Pippi took off running.

He hesitated a moment, then he trotted after her.

 *    *   *

That is a scene from my novel A Spark of Heavenly Fire. I’ve been wondering if the characters’ fear was a bit over the top, because it is only a cornfield after all. But now I know I didn’t go far enough.

This year a cornfield has been planted across the lane from where I live, and the corn is tall and dense and very, very spooky. Yes, corn does rustle. And yes there are strange noises. And yes, creatures of all kinds live in the corn. Or at least visit it. I’ve seen deer come charging out of the corn and cross the lane in front of me. I’ve seen birds, cats, skunks. And, most astonishing of all, a fox. Never seen a fox before, but there it was, slinking out of a row of stalks. It started crossing the lane in front of me, stopped, stared at me, then streaked back into the corn. Within a second it had disappeared.

Just to show you how dense the cornfield is, here is a photo of me standing three feet inside the stalks. (I’m in the far left row. You can see the shadow of my head in the bottom left hand corner of the picture.) When I realized how impossible it would be for you to see me, I considered taking another photo. Then I remembered: Startled deer. Foxes. And who knows — maybe even another me.

100_1304c

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Claire Made Me Do It

I have a confession to make: I seldom leave comments on the blogs I visit. Mostly I don’t want to sound like an idiot (or a spammer) and say: Thanks for sharing, though sometimes that is exactly what I want to say — so many bloggers write fantastic and helpful articles.  Occasionally I don’t understand the repartee going on in the comments, so I skulk away without leaving my mark. And all too often I don’t have the time to come up with something witty, clever, or even passably intelligent to write. Every task on the Internet takes way more time than it should, so I always seem to be scurrying from one link to another, one discussion to another, one blog to another.

And I don’t always respond to comments left on my own blog, either. Some bloggers respond to every single remark. Some don’t respond to any. I fall in the middle. It’s a question of hospitality. As the host, do I let the guest have the last word? Or do I acknowledge their comment with one of my own?

Last night I was discussing blogging with a fellow author at Second Wind Publishing, LLC, one who has developed a blog following in a very short span of time. How did she do it? By finding humorous blogs she liked and leaving a trail of comments back to her own. Truth be told, she was a bit appalled when I told her that I don’t leave comments, and she strongly urged me to go through my blogroll and visit each blog. So I did. Read the articles I hadn’t yet taken a look at. Left a comment everywhere I went. 

If the comments aren’t intelligible, blame Claire. She made me do it.

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Sun-Warmed Apricots and A Court of Western Kingbirds

July is almost over. I could ask where the time has gone, but I know the answer to that one — it passed me by while I was paying attention to other things. No, writing is not one of those things, unless you call sending dozens of emails and posting several blog articles writing. Of course, those are writings, and they are creative, it’s just not the sort of writing that adds pages to a manuscript.

So what have I been paying attention to? Starting a new blog for Second Wind Publishing, as if one isn’t enough! Posting to my own blog. Editing my final manuscript. Editing a great thriller written by another Second Wind author. Cleaning house. Oops. That’s not strictly a writing-related activity, but it is something I’ve been putting off and putting off for . . . let’s just say I’ve been putting it off for way too long so that I can participate in writing-related activities.

I’ve also spent too much time emailing and IMing friends I’ve met online. Can’t seem to get it through my head that just because I’m online, it doesn’t mean I’m being productive. But writing isn’t always about being productive. Sometimes it’s just about living. Replenishing the creative wells. Treating the senses.

I had a bit of a sensory treat today. I was standing in a small clearing, watering my trees and bushes (planted hundreds of them, turned this acre of land into a miniature forest), when I heard Western Kingbirds — a whole court of them — in the leaves a few feet above my head. Though I looked, I never caught a glimpse of a single bird, but I feel privileged to have participated in the aviary world for a few minutes.

Actually, I had two sensory treats. Several apricot trees planted themselves among the other trees, and this year they produced a bit of fruit. So as I was watering, I plucked one of the apricots, warm from the sun, and ate it. Truly a taste to remember.

Both these experiences will wind up in a one of my books, but those upcoming scenes wouldn’t exist if I had been writing and not experiencing.

So, what are your writing concerns? What writing activities have you been involved with this week? Did you have any successes, breakthroughs, realizations? How have you replenished your creative wells? Did you treat your senses?

Let’s talk.

The group No Whine, Just Champagne will meet here: No Whine, Just Champagne Discussion #75  for a live discussion about **** on July 23, 2009 at 9:00pm ET. I hope you will stop by. At least you cannot use the excuse that we don’t talk about what you want to talk about! If you can’t make it, we can have a discussion here — just leave a comment.

**** Insert your choice of topic here.

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The Apollo Moon Landing, The Dish, and Me

I was taking a walk on earth forty years ago when men were walking on the moon. Unlike everyone else, it seems, I wasn’t sitting in front of a television. For one, we didn’t have a television, for another, the whole thing seemed rather ho-hum to an inveterate reader of science fiction. If we hadn’t been there in truth, we’d been there in stories, in imagination. So, oblivious to the excitement, I went for a walk.

The passing years — and all the movies and the books about the subject — didn’t change my mind. Perhaps it was as great an achievement as people seemed to think. Perhaps we had wasted our money in a moon race instead of solving our problems here on earth as many said. But the matter never caught my attention. Until . . . The Dish.

The Dish, a movie released in 2000, tells the story of the Australian participation in the 1969 moon landing. A dish, placed in the middle of a sheep paddock in Parkes, Australia, was to actually transmit the landing and moonwalk to the world.

Why did this movie about a little known aspect of the mission catch my attention? The characters. The quirky characters, their humor, and their excitement to be a part of this major undertaking made me experience, for the first time, the wonder of the achievement.

Thinking of the Apollo landing (now why would I be thinking about that today? Hmmmm) and subsequently The Dish, I was reminded that if we filter our stories through the eyes of our characters, if we make the characters excited about the events of our story worlds, if we make them want to know the facts of our worlds, then we will allow our readers to experience the excitement for themselves.

(What, you thought I’d pass on the chance for an object lesson about writing? Surely, you know me better than that by now!)

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No Whine, Just Champagne Writing Discussion

Another week of summer has passed since my chat group No Whine, Just Champagne last met. Don’t know whether to be glad the heat is going to be leaving us, or whether to be sorry that winter is creeping up. There. Now don’t you feel just a trifle cooler imagining the coming snow? Lately, I’ve been thinking about how writing is a way of playing with our readers, making them worry about the outcome of the story, making them think one thing is going to happen and surprising them with another, making them feel what you want them to feel. Words are powerful tools, and writing is a wonderful way to use one’s time.

I’m in the midst of editing my final manuscript which means that this winter I will have no good excuse not to get back to writing. I’m sure my poor hero will be thrilled. I can’t remember if he’s still feeling angry under a blood-gushing red sun, or if he’s feeling playful under an orange one. Either way, it’s long past time for me to do some creative writing. And, for the first time in a very long time, I’m looking forward to getting back to my story world. I have learned a lot in these many months of editing, and I know one thing — I will not make the mistake of using too many wases. It’s agonizing — and time consuming — to get rid of them.

I’m also at a standstill with promotion. Don’t know where to go from here, so it’s just as well I have all these manuscripts to edit. 

So, that’s where I am in my writing life. Where are you in yours? Do you have any writing concerns you’d like to talk about? Anything new, such as a different direction you’d like to take or a technique you’ve learned? How have you been manipulating your reader? Have you learned the secret of promotion?

Let’s talk.

The group No Whine, Just Champagne will meet at the group Discussion #74  for a live discussion about **** on July 16, 2009 at 9:00pm ET. I hope you will stop by. At least this time you cannot use the excuse that we don’t talk about what you want to talk about.

**** Insert your choice of topic here. 

If you can’t make it to the live discussion, post your comments here. I’m listening.

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Sex Scenes: Self-Concept and Sex Concept

I just finished reading a book about how to get anyone to do anything, and the basic premise is that you figure out what a person’s self-concept is, and you play up to that. For example, if the person thinks of himself as a good father, you appeal to his father image: “If you help me, it will make a better world for your children.” If you go against a person’s self-concept, he will resist you and may end up disliking you. For example, asking the father to work on a night when he promised to be at his kid’s little league game is a sure way to lose his good will.

Since I have sex scenes on the brain — my last few posts focused on sex scenes — it occurred to me that one way to make a sex scene an important scene rather than just throwing it in because you felt it was time to add a sex scene, is to play on a character’s self-concept. What if a character were making love to a person other than a spouse? Would this lovemaking enhance his or her self-concept, or would it go against it? If the scene enhanced the character’s self-concept, we would learn more about the character. Perhaps she sees herself as a great lover, in which case nothing mattered except the lovemaking– not her marriage vows, not her husband, not her children — and so we know what kind of character she is. If the scene went against the character’s self-concept, then we have a character with inner conflicts. Perhaps the character sees herself as a faithful, till-death-do-us-part wife. In which case, no matter how exciting or tender the scene, it leaves her in turmoil.

I wonder if a character could have a sex concept that is the opposite of his self-concept — a great lover and a faithful spouse? In this case there would be no conflict if the character had an affair. Or would there?

I’m not sure what I’m trying to say—as usual, I am using this blog as a way of concentrating my thoughts. I guess the point I’m trying to make is that a sex scene is a good time to show a character confronting his essence. Without, of course, destroying the mood.

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