Wanderlust

Sharp-tailed Grouse strutting for the ladies

Wanderlust is yin to my staying-at-home-hibernating’s yang. I am content to remain in one place until I am not, and then I hit the road, which is where I am now as I write this blog. This 47-day road trip will take us (my much better half, Jan Rubens, is with me) from our winter abode in Savannah, Georgia out to Hood River, Oregon, back east to Greece, New York and finally to our summer home in the wilds of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula woods.

Air travel is my least favorite way to get from point A to spot B. I do love trains, but they run on rails and more or less on schedules; both inhibit our ability to get outside and enjoy seeing, hearing and touching ground. Walking would be great, but I don’t have sufficient time (or energy). That makes automobile travel the happy compromise.

We plan our day-to-day travel to include National Wildlife Refuges, National Parks and Monuments and other outdoor attractions whenever possible. We’re not much for cities and museums. This trip we have added a different twist: every 50 miles as measured by the car’s odometer we stop and take a picture. This methodical approach does not capture the highlights of the trip, but it has captured the topography changes as we moved from east to west; from lush to dry to lush again; from low to high to low. (The album is on my personal Facebook page.)

Yellow-headed Blackbird

The saying, “a picture is worth a thousand words,” is not accurate for me. However, I do find that pictures stimulate my memory. Often when I see a photograph I have taken, I recall not only the specifics of that locale, but what led up to it and what happened afterwards. One added enjoyment of this trip has been to see how these more or less random pictures have triggered memories in folks who follow my Facebook posts.

We usually prefer taking backroads, which can make for more interesting pictures than those taken along interstates. On this trip, time constraints on when we could leave and when we had to be in Hood River made it necessary (well, at least very convenient) to do much of our early travel on interstates. Given that, these pictures provide a sense of the modern American society, rushing by the land at 75 miles an hour in our air-conditioned, nearly hermitically-sealed autos.

Northern Gannets billing

As much as these roadside pictures draw comments, the photographs I periodically take of the birds we see always bring responses. Some people have never seen the particular birds before and marvel at their colors or shape or antics. Others of my friends are avid birders and share their own experiences with the birds or the location.

This sharing, initially from me, but then back to me, provides a continued sense of community with my friends and acquaintances regardless of how physically far apart we are. Even those who do not comment on Facebook will, when I see them in person, often engage me in detailed conversations about a recent trip. Those conversations, which can occur months after the trip, allow me to relive my wanderings.

I’ve found writing mysteries has a similar communal affect. I write the mysteries and then some time (often a long time) later a reader will talk to me about the story, or the characters, or the setting, and I have the opportunity to relive the story, yet experience it through the filter of someone else’s eyes.

That is the essence of my wanderlust: to experience, to share, to re-experience and to learn.

~ Jim

Toward the infinite

Originally published on Writers Who Kill Blog 4/26/15

Drawing the Reader In

Think of a book you really loved. I mean really loved. Was it because of its perfect plot? A twist ending so surprising it astounded you? Because every word was exactly the right word?

I will go out on a limb and suggest that while those elements may have been present, you loved the book because you became deeply invested in at least one character. You cared about what happened to that individual, in how they would fare in the world they inhabited, which may be very different from any world you will experience.

Writers are beaten about the head and shoulders with the mantra to “show, not tell.” As I write this blog, I am participating in a weeklong Donald Maass workshop. We spent a good portion of day three discussing how to tell, not show.

What?

Yep!

Here is a diamond of understanding I picked up. Writers, you might try it out and see whether it deepens a story you are working on. Readers, see if you can catch a favorite author sucking you into their make-believe world with this technique.

Have your character tell (yes, tell) about an emotion they are feeling. Incorporate the following elements in the description. [My parenthetical example happens to use first person, but it works as well in third.] Include this in an action scene (not as a reflection or reaction scene) to make it immediate. Make it short so it does not feel to the reader as though the action has stopped.

Step 1. Use an analogy to describe the emotion. This objectifies the emotion and makes it safe for the reader. [My anger glowed as hot and fragile as a freshly blown glass figurine. One false move and everything would shatter.]

Step 2. Have the character make a moral judgement about their emotion. [No matter how much justified, surely God despised this much anger.]

Step 3. Include inner conflict regarding what the character is feeling. [And yet, within that fire, that blinding white rage, I felt a corner of my mind evaluating my posture, the tightness around my eyes, noting sagely that I was showing none of what I felt. The fury, should I let it slip its leash, would come as a complete surprise to the other wedding guests.]

Step 4. Add a touch of self-reflection. [There, I said it: should I let it slip its leash. It would be conscious if I did, and even if others called me insane, I would know it for a conscious effort. It was my beast to wrestle, to control.]

Had you read this on the first or second page would you be interested in reading more about this character? If you read it later in the story, would it deepen your understanding of this character? If this telling occurred while the individual stood as best man, watching the bride-to-be walking down the aisle on her father’s arm, would it have stopped the action, or indeed would it have been part of the action, even though it was all exposition?

Remember, I just learned this and so am practicing, but I do think it works. What about you?

~ Jim

This blog first appeared on Writers Who Kill 4/12/15