The Writer's Block--a Novel Approach to writing.

ATTENTION

2006-09-20T02:32:00.000-07:00

It is my intent to abandon this site in the very near future and to delete it soon thereafter. The reason being that I have a new site that will take its place. The new site is thewritetools.blogspot.com. On that site I am attempting to compile a number of tools and articles for the aspiring and the accomplished author. It matters not whether you are a poet, a lyricist, a novelist or any other -ist; hopefully the tools there will be of use to inspire or provoke you. As time goes on, I will add more. If you have suggestions, I welcome them, wholeheartedly. This is to be your site as musch as mine. Contact me at pointedwords@gmail.com and tell me what you want to see. I will respond as soon as I can, although these days I am very busy, so please be patient. Thank you for your support over the last year and a half. I sincerely hope that the next several will be even more productive for us all.

Viva la difference

2006-05-25T21:27:00.000-07:00

In sending a link to Dan Norman’s great site, I stumbled across a reference to my work that he used in an example of novel writing techniques. I include it here, because what he says has great merit and deserves attention. There is wisdom in his suggestions. Having said that, I also must add that I tend to be prolific (or at least profuse) in my use of words (couldn’t you tell?) I suffer (not painfully) from ideaphoria—the rapid generation of ideas. And then, too, Dan might understand that I felt the need to show thought processes in a bit more detail than he would choose to do. This is not to say he is wrong in his advice. It is just to say that his approach and mine are different. I still believe he is one smart cookie. Here is the link. Thanks, Dan. I love your site.

http://www.freelance-author.com/novel-techniques.html

More on Junk Science and clarity of thought and expression

2006-05-20T12:34:00.000-07:00

While we are on the subject of clearly expressing ourselves, and on the subject of “junk science”, as in the below letter to Stephen Hawking, I thought I would add another recent letter in somewhat the same vein. You might be interested in the workings of an everyday devious mind (I do not have my “EBI” degree—Educated Beyond Intelligence). I am acquiring my CS degree, however (Common Sense). I hope the subject matter is of interest to you. I feel it is certainly timely.

Letter to Michael Masterson
Michael,

There is a lot of junk science going around today and we are constantly bombarded by the fear mongers about the environmental issues that supposedly plague us. Most of them are just MENTAL issues, not environmental issues.

For example, after the Exxon Valdez spill, you heard an enormous outcry from the Green movement. What follow-ups do you have today? None. Why? Because the coastline has healed far more quickly and miraculously than they ever imagined possible--hence, no cannon fodder for their cause.

Regarding the ozone hole over the Arctic: AOL news has just today released a prediction from Japanese scientists that say it should disappear altogether by 2050. I also recall several years ago hearing Paul Harvey report that the ozone hole had enlarged and extended a thousand miles further south, into lower regions of Russia--due to "colder than usual temperatures". A light went on in my head with that one. Where do these "holes" occur? Over the cold regions of the world--the poles. And if they extended further, "due to colder than usual temperatures", then could they not be naturally occurring phenomena? By the way, only 30 years ago, we were being told we were headed into an ice age. Now it is global warming. So, which is true?

As to the carbon dioxide emissions.... The proponents of the ban on these emissions are all "tree-huggers", if you will. What they fail to realize is that trees breathe CO2, and provide oxygen. If you deprive them, you deprive us, too. Not a pretty scenario.

What would happen if the earth had a more temperate climate (AKA Global Warming)? Well, for one, we should have fewer and smaller hurricanes, as these are caused by temperature differentials, not homogenous temperatures. The same with tornadoes. Who wouldn't be for that? That has my vote.

And a recent issue of the journal SCIENCE listed home cooking fires in SE Asia as the leading cause of the world's man-generated pollution, not the industrialized nations of the world. Far beyond that is the pollution put out daily by the world's volcanoes. We will NEVER reach that level.

Far more important than asking if the claims of these protesting groups are true would be to ask what the motive is for the group or person claiming it. What do they have to gain and who is backing them financially. In other words, "follow the money".

One more, although I could go on. When you calculate the vast ocean surface, a rise of a foot is nothing to most areas. Also, know that the "experts" cannot agree. Some claim a foot and others as much as 45 feet. When you are dealing with environMENTALists, you can usually assume they have multiplied by at least 10, to get the fear factor up into the range they want it to be.

n experiment you can do on your kitchen table should relax your mind and make for sweeter dreams. Place some ice cubes in a glass of water and mark the level on the glass with a permanent marker (comes off with acetone or hairspray), then let the ice melt and check the level again. It should be the same as before. Why? Because water EXPANDS 10% when it freezes, therefore becoming less dense and therefore it floats, being about 90% below the waterline. So, again the crazies have cried wolf and are made out to be liars. If there is a great degree of actual shelf ice melting, it may be due to increased volcanic activity in the polar regions. Take Iceland, for example. Look back over the news and see what has happened there. No man, nor mankind, could have produced such effects.

So, Michael, just relax and take a deep breath. Life goes on and there is little you can do about it--unless you want to add some CO2 when you can (to feed the trees and temper the weather patterns).

Take care, my friend,
Steven O'Dell

No, Yes or Maybe?

2006-05-19T17:47:00.000-07:00

An Update:

Just an update regarding The Screenplay Agency, which showed interest (for a fee, of course) in my novel. It seems they are worthy of “great note” and are “award” winners (Top Twenty worst according to Writer Beware). Check this link: http://www.anotherealm.com/prededitors/peals.htm

Also, on a humorous note, I have recently queried the Charlotte Gusay Agency in L.A. They want books they can convert to film, which mine would do nicely. I spent a great deal of time making the very best query letter I could, included an excerpt, references to my test marketing, a handful of reader responses and a brief synopsis. I also noted that parts 2 and 3 are in the works to be expanded and fleshed out more fully. I sent this letter off and waited.

A few days later, I realized that with all the attention I had paid to the body of the letter, I had neglected to correct the contact info to reflect the new address and phone number for our recent move. I therefore sent off an amended query (this time on a nicely monogrammed letterhead, with corrected info and again waited. Our letters must have crossed in the mail—hers was a rejection letter. Oh, well, I thought. Many well-known writers were rejected a dozen or more times before making it into published status or film status. I am just one step closer to success, that’s all.

Not expecting another response after this, I was shocked to get a letter asking for me to send a synopsis and a sample of a few chapters. (Seems that monogram worked wonders.) I may have to start a line of clothing with it, to bring good luck to all my friends—hehe. Oh, there is a fee involved, but that was the only warning at the Preditors and Editors site. With this woman’s Rolodex list of director’s and screenwriters, I think it will be a great bargain if it pays off.

Also, if she has a sense of humor and this becomes a lasting working relationship, I may have the rejection letter matted and sent to her as a gift in the future. Ain’t I a stinker?

A Letter To Stephen Hawking

2006-05-16T18:06:00.000-07:00

There are many types of writing that the aspiring author may have to address in his or her growth. The stories, poems, lyrics, etc. are the most obvious in nature. There is also the query letter and synopsis to be considered, as well as letters of thanks or of clarification. I wish to address another type of letter today.

I guess this one could bear many titles, from letter of objection to letter of instruction. The following is a letter that I wrote a few years ago to the great Stephen Hawking, considered one of the most brilliant minds of our time. He is most noted for his studies and dissertations on Time and Black Holes. The reason I wrote to him is that I found what appeared to me to be glaring difficulties with the most recent theories of the time. I spoke my mind, regarding the views that are objectionable to me, and asked for further enlightenment, if there was any to be had. I then sent the letter to his email address and waited patiently. A few years later, I am still waiting. Perhaps I am not important enough to warrant an answer, so I now leave that to you, the reader.

There are times we have to express ourselves clearly and forcibly, to vent our frustrations, our objections and our concerns. That is, I submit, as much an art as the writing of any novel or poem and deserves as much forethought and eloquence. So, without further ado, here is the letter.

The Big Bang Fizzles Out

Dr. Hawking,

My writing to you has to do with the fact that I am greatly bothered by some issues that would seem to me to be evident to one of your mental stature--certain fundamental laws of physics as introduced by Newton. I am not all-seeing by any stretch of the imagination, but these seem to be glaring problems to me. If there are further advancements that have taken these issues into account and address them adequately, please refer me to them, if you will. Otherwise, I suggest that an entire re-thinking of the theory may be in order.

We (the general population) are told that "nothing can escape from a black hole". This includes even light. Then we are told that x-rays can and do escape. Hmmmmm,...okay. The fact is that if ALL matter, energy and whatever else may have constituted the materials for the original point of focus were in fact IN one point, then that would have been the "MOTHER of all black holes" and it would seem evident that nothing COULD escape from this, thus making moot the question of a Big Bang in the first place.

Let us assume for the sake of argument that the impossible did happen (maybe by an act of God) and that the singular point was indeed the origin of the event. Now we have other troubles to sort out. We are told that anything radiating outward from a single point will gradually distance itself from any other thing leaving that same point (divergence), even if they left side by side in the same general direction. Yet we are also told that there are numerous celestial bodies that cross paths and influence one another. How can these both be true--divergent and crossing?

We are informed that these bodies (some of which are called Quasars) are actually accelerating as they gain distance from their point of origin, yet they travel in a vacuum (all matter was in that single point, so there was no interfering medium to travel through) and should neither gain nor lose speed as they travel. This is simple Newtonian Physics. If they do the impossible and gain speed, then we must address that issue. Perhaps there is a repelling force at the center of the event that pushes the matter away? Yet how could this be possible, as the concentration of matter (whether it attracts or repels or is neutral) no longer exists, due to the "bang" itself. Then maybe there is an attractive force or object on the outer reaches of the universe that draw these Quasars in. That would pose the problem that NOT all matter was then in the center of the event, as well as the fact that there must now be an "eggshell" of sorts that is compelling the Quasars to accelerate as they gain proximity--this is, of course, preposterous. To think that all of the universe is contained in a gigantic eggshell, dense beyond description--shades of the ancient superstitions? Perhaps then these objects are self-propelled by some means we know not--they choose their own velocity (and trajectory)--not likely, I would say. Unless God IS interfering in some manner.

Well, there are other difficulties, too. Not the least of which is the "echoes" of the Big Bang. If there was nothing out there in the first instance, what is there to echo FROM, I might ask? I do hope you might offer some sort of clarity on this issue as it is most puzzling to me. Perhaps it is just background noise? If so, from what? And then there is that nasty problem of things happening far faster than they should in the creation of new stars and galaxies. Oh, bother!

As to the theory of an Oscillating Universe--when Quasars reach escape velocity, how will they ever be re-introduced to the system? It cannot be. One or the other is wrong.

The early Rabbis had theories (from their Torah) of several more dimensions than we even speculated on, until late. Maybe they were not so foolish as we are told? And is it not possible that all there was in the first instance was matter, space and intelligence and that the prime intelligence found a way to organize (the Hebrew word for “create” means to organize what was already there) that matter? As to intelligence--none of the major scientists (I use the term loosely in referring to evolutionists and their kind) ever addresses THAT origin and SHOWS it as nothing more than what they THINK it to be--"random or conditioned reaction to a wonderfully complex environment." Humbug!

The same "man of science" that says there is no God is trying at breakneck speed to BECOME one in his own right, is he not? There is none to become, according to that logic. And it is the height of all arrogance to think he may become such if there has never been nor ever will be. After all, is not all the universe decaying according to the "LAW" of entropy? Then why try? Not according to the brightest of our scientific minds--it is all a wonderful accident. Math, science itself, love, advances in medicine and every virtuous desire of the human heart and mind are simply the effect of random or conditioned response to our environment. Even IQ is then an illusion, is it not?

God save me from this philosophy then! I want no part of a science that breaks or ignores its own "laws" for the sake of convenience or to dumb down the masses in order to maintain some degree of imagined power or status for their own small circle of influence. This is no science--it is no more than medieval witchery. No disrespect meant to you, sir. If you honestly do see anything I have missed that could possibly enlighten me, please do so. I am not above being taught--I just object to being insulted. And perhaps I have taught you something as well. The true man of science pursues the truth, no matter how unpopular it may be in his own circles (for example--there are many individuals with HIV who have no AIDS and many with AIDS that have no HIV, yet it is the kiss of death to research funding if you suggest that perhaps HIV is not the cause of AIDS).

As to the existence of God--I know for myself that there is one, but I will be first to admit that I cannot prove it to another. It is an individual experiment and every man must choose for himself whether he will get into the test tube and be a part of that experiment or will by his choice remain ignorant of the results that others have experienced for themselves. There IS a plan and it all makes the most wonderful and supreme sense when you are privy to that knowledge. I invite you to participate in the grandest experiment of all--if He can create all of what you see, He can certainly answer a sincere prayer, can he not? It is far more wise to seek this answer than to continually try to write Him out of the equation--it will never happen because it is impossible and will only lead to frustration and madness.

Feel free to rebuke, correct, insult or whatever. I can take it. Any offense you may have taken to this is unintentional on my part, I assure you. I just think we need to hold ourselves to certain standards and not compromise them in the least degree for the sake of fame or popularity. I hope you agree.

Your friend,
Steven O'Dell

P.S. Here is one to think about--maybe what we call the Big Bang was just the White Hole on the other end of the process--a sort of "cosmic vomiting" into our regions? Maybe we are at the end of the drain pipe after all. A wonderful and complex cesspool and nothing more--doesn't that just lift your self-esteem? Take care, my friend.

Danny Norman's Freelance-Author.com

2006-03-25T19:36:00.000-08:00

A site I have recently been privileged to read is Freelance-Author.com. I have found it to be a well done and beautifully put together site. Webmaster Danny Norman must be a master. I shall have to learn from him, if he will teach me.

Danny has done me the kindness of posting several of my works on his remarkable site (http://www.freelance-author.com/featured-authors.html). Thanks, Danny. I am happy to recommend your site here for the pointers and guidance you offer. It appears you have done your homework well and I commend you for it. Adding you to my recommended links table on the right.

Several good links on the site for aspiring authors and for accomplished ones, as well. Take a close look, folks. Several examples of short stories, too.

A new project

2006-03-16T00:16:00.000-08:00

I have begun a new project. This one is with my son, Trevor. For a year now, he has been telling me about this great idea for a sci-fi novel series that has been running around in his head (for 8 years, it seems!) When he first told me of it, I was spellbound and knew it had to become a film someday. And every conversation we have had since then has done nothing more than to reinforce that belief. And each conversation leads to more and more complexity and details that just make me want more deeply to see this played out.

This story, called Turncycle, is just the first of a series of envisioned parts. The next two will be called Upcycle and The Psych Wars. If you are familiar with the detail and attention to complexities of authors like J.R.R. Tolkien and Frank Herbert, you will begin to understand to some degree where this story may end up leading us. When I say ‘us’, I need to clarify. The story is Trevor’s, without the shadow of a doubt. I am acting as a sounding board and advisor. Where he finds it difficult to develop characters and dialogue, I have no trouble doing so. Trevor never envisioned himself as a writer and still doesn’t, but the story won’t leave him alone and he has to get it written. I know that feeling all too well.

If you are interested in seeing the details as they unfold, we will be posting every now and then to turncycleprogress.blogspot.com. When the first book is ready to be published (which I expect to take some time, being this complex), it will be posted there and at turncycle.blogspot.com, the main site. In the meantime, feel free to comment on the posts as they are added. Ideas you provide may even be used. You never know.

Book Treasure House

2006-03-11T00:09:00.000-08:00

I have found one site that I am rather excited about. It is called booktreasurehouse.com. I truly recommend that if you are serious about promoting your work, you look into this and listen to the interviews at this link-- http://www.booktreasurehouse.com/radio.html

The amazing number of things offered here, for $10 per month, is astounding. Everything from a website to databases of TV and radio interview sites, etc. I am not far into the audio links, but I am already impressed with what is offered. Check it out.

Bottoms Up!

2006-01-13T17:19:00.000-08:00

I have recently read one of the funniest pieces of humor I have seen in a long time. The author goes only by the name Sissy and has posted this on fanstory.com. With her generous permission, I repost it here for your enjoyment and study. I feel it is a very well written piece that goes to the heart of the “war between the sexes”, if there is such a thing. If nothing else, it allows a glimpse into the advantage of being able to laugh at ourselves now and then.

I hope no one will take offense at the subject matter. It was not meant to poke fun at anyone, but was posted here 1). Because it is funny and 2). It addresses some universal and age-old differences of men and women in communication and understanding. It appeals to the human condition on a basic level and we can all identify with it in one way or another. Enjoy the read—and thank you again, Sissy!

--------------------------------------------------------------

Women Unite!

In 2006, let us all join forces and take up arms against our male counterparts. No, this is not a case for the Honorable Judge Moody. This is personal!

Let me explain.

Sissy Lancombed is going to have a very bad afternoon. After showing her faux Brad Pitt the door, she needs to take a potty break. Too much wine, and she's pretty certain that the venti-three shot-expresso-non-fat-mocha-vanilla-latte from the local coffeehouse chain hasn't helped.

Sashaying into the bathroom, she undoes the hundred-dollar butt-lifter jeans and the Vicky's panties (super-low rise bikini cut, striped) and goes into the age old position—

And the bad afternoon begins.

"OOPH!"

Splash!

I cannot repeat what words are coming out of Miss Lancombed's mouth because, well...it wouldn't be ladylike.

Grabbing hold of the countertop and the towel rack, she struggles mightily for a few minutes, then pulls herself out of the porcelain god. She takes stock of herself, then shrieks in horror. Her posterior, once a subtle shade of khaki from the local tanning salon, is now a horrendous Tid-y-Bowl blue.

See, Sissy Lancombed knows one thing. Her currently blue rear is going to clash terribly with her pale orange striped undies. She undresses with haste and leaps into the shower. She grabs her thirty dollar bottle of moisturizing wash and the loofa, and goes to work.

Still Tid-y-Bowl blue.

Half in a panic, she moves on to the sea salt scrub. Yes, that pricey one from Crabtree and Evelyn. She's sure the company did not envision their product being used as a fragrant form of Comet or Ajax...but these are desperate times.

The Tid-y-Bowl color holds fast.

Why is it so hard for men to put the toilet seat back down? I don't get it. If you can remember to put it up, why not back down again? I mean, seriously, it's along the same lines as say, zipping one's pants. I mean, occasionally one might forget, but not always!

Now, I know you men out there are reading this and thinking, 'Why can't you ladies just put the toilet seat UP after you use it?'

The answer is very simple. Women always need the toilet seat down. Men need it both down AND up. I don't know any man who does 'Number Two' with the toilet seat up. Do you? Otherwise, they'd find themselves in the same predicament as our heroine, Miss Lancombed--who is currently dissolving into tears because her butt is STILL blue. Resourceful as ever, she is contemplating the use of Crest White Strips on her nether region to restore it to its former glory.

Is it so difficult? The toilet seat, I mean. They aren't there for aesthetic purposes--even the pretty, soft, flowery ones like those in Sissy Lancombed's place. Aren't toilet seats meant to be SAT on?
I believe I learned about some law of physics or gravity or nature in my high school science class that went something like, 'What goes up, must come down.' Surely men can see the wisdom in that?

Maybe not, thinks Miss Lancombed, as she pulls on a pair of blue and white striped undies and a matching bra. Then the jeans and a light blue cashmere sweater. Now, at least her clothes match her behind, which makes her situation more bearable. She dries her hair into a perfectly coiffed helmet and heads for the door. Maybe the tanning salon can help.

Toilet seats need a timer. Better yet, how about one of those red dot laser sensors that are so common in rest stops, movie theater and Wal-Mart rest rooms? You know, the little dot that beams into your bare back as you use the facilities and causes the toilet to flush, generally with great force, as you rise to a standing position and release the used tissue.

Hey! Every toilet seat should come with these! The Man could lift the seat, do his thing and then as the targeted form steps away, the sensor on the underside of the seat would signal for its descent. Come on, it could work! That way, we wouldn't have to hear excuse like, "I forgot" or "I heard the game come back on" or "I thought I DID put it back down!"

It might save a lot of relationships AND prevent the spread of some pretty gross germs.

After all, it's one thing to land tush-first in our OWN toilets--quite another to splash down into an unfamiliar toilet at a party or in a unisex bathroom...

EUUWWWWW.

Or maybe our men should just try harder. After all, it really is just a silly little thing, isn't it?

Rules of punctuation (or rules of engagement?)

2006-01-01T22:28:00.000-08:00

I have recently been writing reviews for fanstory.com and have read some wonderful poetry, short stories and novel chapters. These have been a joy to read and review. I have also read some of the most horrendous work that ever graced a page. I never knew until recently that it could truly be painful to review and edit someone else’s work.

Below is my answer to one writer's reply for my review of his work. I have chosen only the most important of his claims to respond to. I thought that this could be educational, as I was stunned by his attitude and beliefs regarding rules of punctuation. I was amazed that the mis-use of commas was so rampant on the site. I suspect that it is not only fanstory.com that suffers from this disease, however. I often was forced to take a break to calm down. I was truly disgusted with the lack of familiarity with their supposed native language, although I always did my best to be generous in my praise and in encouraging them. I know that this does not come easily to everyone. We each have our own talents and aptitudes. Unfortunately, when I read the work of others, the errors seem to stand out like a neon light. (If only this were so in my own writing…. Hence the need for an unbiased and capable proofreader/editor.) Enjoy and learn.

Web,
I feel I may have inadvertently touched a nerve--something I never meant to do. Unfortunately, I must do so again. I must still adhere to the fact that good English is good English. This is not a theory. These rules have been accepted for a minimum of decades and are still considered to be correct. I again suggest you read up on rules of punctuation. A publisher will never (Editor's note: perhaps I should have said 'seldom') agree to this "loose-ness based solely on situation", as you do. He/she will think you are accustomed to internet chat lines and are out of your league. I do not wish to insult you. I only wish to help you. I hope you are open to that and this is the last time I will bother you, unless you should specifically ask.

You claim:

"...a point of whether the author wants it to be read slowly, or quickly. I want it read at a slower pace to help the reader become "attached" to Megan, so I add commas."

So, in theory, you assume that a comma is a sign to "slow down" and all you need do is sprinkle more of them in wherever you wish? What if your reader is too well educated to be aware of this new rule you have devised? And why not add more question marks or periods? The fact is that each has its place and that place is strictly defined, with few exceptions. These are called 'exceptions' specifically because they ARE few and not in SPITE of being few. Becoming 'attached' to Megan is not done with generous punctuation, but with wit, wisdom and talented writing. You cannot bludgeon your way into the realm of eloquence and finesse. Punctuation is not a 'magic fairy dust' you sprinkle on your tale to make it become suddenly wonderful. You must 'draw' the reader in with skill, as you would lure a fish. I have personally written many articles on this subject and seen them published on sites frequented by professional authors who are published many times over.

"For those people who need to have a higher meaning in what they read, that scene allows them to have it. It doesn't do anything for those who don't need it."

On the contrary, I found it to be unnecessary and distracting, as I have said before. As an author of three novels and several other works, I also find it to be unprofessional and insulting to my intelligence as a reader. What 'higher meaning' is there in base desire and lust that is covered in a single, unneeded 'filler' sentence? You must be teachable, first and foremost. Many edits and revisions may be required of you by a good editor of any reputable publishing company. If your writing is so sacred to you that you cannot revise it even for the sake of improvement, you will never be a success as an author. If you want your work to be carved in stone for future generations, you chisel away at it until the finished work appears and is liberated from the surrounding mass. This is not done by pronouncing the raw stone to BE the finished product.

"...used to be preferred. They are no longer preferred, but they are stilled perfectly acceptable." Ignoring your mis-spelling, can you mention any sources that support this theory?

"...starting a sentence with a conjuction is acceptable”…

(As a Hebrew idiom, perhaps, but usually not in modern English. Old English used it more often, it is true, but any modern manual of style (most of these have been in use for ages) will usually warn you away from such a practice. I personally allow for it infrequently, however, and have found it to be an exception that is occasionally necessary to the flow of the text.)

"This is not a formal writing, so I can get away with more. If I was writing a research paper, the rules would be different"

Again, I ask what source of scholarship and expertise you are quoting? Certainly not the Chicago Manual of Style or Strunk and White's Elements of Style (Editor's note: Being teachable and of sufficient humility to admit guilt, I add that this volume allows for such in some cases). If you are writing for IM chats, you are at the top of your class. If not, you cannot simply make up your own rules to go by--not if you wish to claim any degree of familiarity with your native language and its proper use as a communication tool.

Again, I mean absolutely no offense, but the attitude you show will never allow you to get past the wastebasket in an editor's office, let alone his desk. I sincerely hope you agree.

[It is at times necessary to eat one's own words. This was one of those times. I could have just taken these posts down and pretended they never happened, but in the end, I feel it is of more value to show that even one who is confident he is right may need to do some research and be willing to admit error. I fell down on the first point, putting my mouth in motion before my mind was in gear. I now take care not to be guilty in the second point, so I leave the posts here--warts and all.]

It's Official

2005-12-09T14:02:00.000-08:00

Appears I wont be getting to this, so I offer the domain for sale to the first reasonable offer. 520-491-9250

Okay, it’s official. I now am the proud owner of the domain name theultimatetext.com and will have all the rights and privileges of such when I have it up and running for my copywriting business. I will also have email at that domain, which will be a nice touch. Should be getting it going within the next six months, I would say. I know—that seems like forever, but something tells me that will go much faster than I like or imagine.

Credit Where Due

2005-11-26T14:39:00.000-08:00

It should be mentioned that the story "Yours for a Wish" came to me in a dream the night before I posted it here. It was written without any major correction or modification within fifteen minutes of sitting at the keyboard. Do I take credit for it? No. I credit God for sending it to me and I am simply grateful to have been the channel through which it came. Amazing things happen when you try to get in tune with loving spiritual sources.

Yours for a Wish

2005-11-21T19:26:00.000-08:00

Yours for a Wish – © Steven G. O’Dell Nov. 2005

The small boy stood eagerly on his porch, watching the deliveryman bring the large crate that he had wished for. Inside, he knew, would be all the wonderful things he had been told of and had come to desire so deeply. He opened the crate excitedly. It was so large. Out spilled all the wonderfully ornate, shiny baubles he expected. His eyes grew wide and he ooh-ed and ah-ed in complete amazement. These were all his and his alone, to do with as he pleased. Now they were all within his reach and his life could begin in earnest.

As he grew, the young man fondled and polished all the shiny accoutrements that he had wanted so early in his life. He noticed how some seemed to have lost their sheen with age. Others appeared to be cracked and nearly broken, but he was a prideful young man and nothing would take these things from him or demean them in any way while he still lived and breathed. They were still his and his alone.

The man grew older still. He was bitter now. None of what he had wished for in his life seemed of any consequence. Old habits die hard, however, and the tarnished baubles were still his and he still clung to them jealously, all the while hating them deeply.

The time came when the old man died and all of his worldly belongings were left behind to be sold cheaply to the next covetous young man who desired to accumulate all the world had to offer him. What the dead man took with him was a simple gravestone that marked his final resting place, soon to be forgotten by all but the groundskeeper.

Another small boy stood wide-eyed on his front porch. His box, too, had arrived. His mother and father handed it gently, almost reverently, to him. They took the time to explain the proper use of all the contents within his wonderful gift box and then bade him open it. With a sense of wonder and awe he carefully began to peel the ribbon from the small container that sat easily within one small hand. He could scarcely conceal his smile, so excited was he to be finally getting what he had been taught to so deeply desire above all else. The lid lifted away, the young man stepped into the full sunlight where he could more easily investigate the contents and to his great surprise, the light that was caught and reflected from the object within was nearly as bright as the sun itself. He shielded his eyes and squinted against the gleam of what appeared to be a beautiful cut diamond. His parents corrected him and explained that it was indeed a rare jewel, but no earthly diamond at all. It was far more valuable than anything so common as a diamond. The boy smiled, hugged his parents and promised to always cherish the gift throughout his life.

The young man had kept his promise and found that as he shared the beauty of his wonderful gift, an amazing thing happened—the shine seemed to get even more brilliant than before and would cast its light to greater and greater distances around him. All who came within the influence of his precious gift were touched and improved in some strange way. What tremendous delight this brought to the young man and all who knew him.

An old man had lived a long and fruitful life. He smiled as he thought back on all that had meant so much to him in this world. It seemed that everything he cherished most could not be bought with money or traded for insignificant worldly goods. What he most treasured were the moments of love and friendship with family and acquaintances. The memories of a lifetime graced the pages of his mind in the last few hours of his mortality, but before he went, he called to his side all of his children and grandchildren and with a shaking hand held aloft the same small box that his mother and father had delivered to him so many years ago. With wide eyes and awe-opened mouths, the family received from his lips the story that his parents had told him in his childhood. When he passed, they were sad to see him go, but knew that to a wonderful and very real extent he remained with them as much as ever. When he passed he took with him no more than the first man had taken. However, far more than the groundskeeper took notice of his passing. His name continued to be spoken within his town and in an ever-broadening circle, for generations thereafter.

The two men came into this life with the same opportunities. Neither had the advantage over the other, except in one thing. What made the difference? The teacher. The first young boy was turned loose without guidance to desire what the world would teach him were things to be prized above all else. He found later in his life that these were but empty and meaningless things that brought no comfort to him or to anyone else that he came in contact with. The second boy, so similar to the first, was taught that what he held was the power to make the world around him a better place, if he would but do so. He was taught that the power he wielded could be used for good or for evil and that it must be used wisely or it would destroy him and all who came into contact with it. He was shown that as he used wisdom, the gift would reach out to enlighten and guide the lives of others, who in turn would enlighten then more lives beyond theirs. So great was the love of this young boy for his first teachers that he carried that gift with reverence all his life, simply to honor their names with each use. And so great was the joy that it brought, he could not help but pass it on to those who had come to love him for his shining example of beauty and benevolence.

You see, we are all placed in this world with the self-same promise—that “nothing shall be withheld from them which they shall imagine to do”. We hold within our hands the same gift, though to some it may appear large and to others small. Some trade it for baubles and beads that become mere trash and bring no lasting value to anyone, even their owners. Others learn the priorities of life and become a shining city on a hill, where none can hide the light from all who would draw near and truly see for the first time. You have that power to choose what you value most in life. You also have the power to become a revered teacher in your own right—to anyone you may touch in this life. The choice is yours. What do you wish?

Anywhere I Want

2005-11-19T16:05:00.000-08:00

Anywhere I Want—© Steven G. O’Dell Nov. 2005

Thomas Feldon had reached the end of his workday. He slogged dejectedly through the front gate and climbed the worn steps to his front door. He had no one to return to each day, he hated his job and he had not so much as a pet to complain to for comfort. He was exhausted—not physically, but mentally and spiritually. Thomas unlocked and opened the door for the thousandth time, slipped in quietly and closed it behind himself. There was no noise at all in his house. It was silent as a tomb.

Sighing to himself, Thomas abruptly dropped his briefcase and thought to himself, That is the last of you for the weekend. Removing his suit jacket, he dropped it onto the sofa and felt yet another weight lifted from his shoulders—No more nasty bosses for the next few days. Sitting down, he removed his shoes and again delivered himself from a not-so-imaginary burden. No more deadlines to contend with for now. He removed his socks, smiled and dropped them where they would. No more nasty looks from the bosses’ secretary until Monday. Thomas stood up and unbuttoned his shirt, breathing a deep sigh of relief and exhaling it slowly. Removing his shirt, he tossed it onto the back of the sofa and stretched his arms upward. No whispering around the water cooler when I am approaching. He grinned widely and with renewed determination headed toward the back door, clad in T-shirt and trousers.

There was nothing in Thomas’s backyard except the grass and the sunshine, a few flowers that had voluntarily come up this year and the sound of the birds in the neighborhood trees. No matter. He was now in complete control of his world. Thomas closed his eyes and with face toward the sun, immediately detached himself from life as he knew it. Eyes still tightly shut, he smiled confidently and mysteriously and then stepped boldly forth into the dense forest that had just appeared before him. What a grand adventure must await me there, he thought. Perhaps this time I shall not return at all. And this time he didn’t.

A vignette within a novel

2005-11-17T11:41:00.000-08:00

It occured to me, as I work upon my synopsis, that there is at least one vignette of sorts within the novel itself. I thought (since I have become so fascinated with the art lately) that I would post it along with the others below.

From Shining Armor--Book One--The Knight Appears (C) Steven G. O'Dell 2002

Her mood swung suddenly, growing sober and deliberate. She looked straight into his eyes with warmth that seemed to heat the room. Her gaze said more silently than she could ever express in words. He felt the muscles in his chest tighten with the anxiety of an inexperienced schoolboy as he sat frozen in rapt and anxious attention, watching her slow approach and wondering that he had ever been so shy and backward as to almost let this precious pearl slip through his fingers. Thank God for Barbara, he thought.

She lowered herself easily onto his lap and slowly leaned forward, gently placing her lips upon his. She saw that he closed his eyes and heard him let out an involuntary whimper. She, too, closed her eyes and they kissed for the first time. A long, perfect kiss that made time and space disappear altogether. Such a kiss as she was sure had never been equaled since the world began. A kiss that, for its perfection, even the very heavens must take notice of. When they again opened their eyes, what had been a sunset was now complete darkness, except for a streetlight that graced the window from afar.

The Guitar

2005-11-15T17:37:00.000-08:00

The Guitar--(C) Steven G. O'Dell July 2005

The music was unlike any she had ever heard. It grabbed her by the heartstrings and pulled her physically to itself. The otherworldly strains came softly from the inner recesses of the undistinguished and quaint little shop that she had nearly missed in her private rush down the narrow cobblestone street, but she now stood transfixed as the sultry tones of the simple acoustic guitar beckoned to her from the darkness beyond the door.

One step at a time, slowly she marched forward, led by the intoxicating siren sound of an unseen master. Gradually, as her eyes became accustomed to the dim lighting of the room, the form took shape of a seated man bent over a guitar. His eyes were tightly closed, as though in deep meditation and his head subtly bobbed and weaved to the emotional melodies that so fluidly poured forth. His behavior suggested that he did not just play the music, but that he also experienced it, lived in it fully and passionately.

His fingers were now gentle and quivering, then again swift and light and she knew that the music that so deeply stirred her did not come alone from the fingers and mind of the musician, but from the depths of his very soul. His roughly handsome face changed with each phrase; soaring, now weeping and then flights of ecstasy and beyond. Tears flowed easily from her as the melodies played about her heart and feelings. She felt nearly captive and helpless in the grip of this master musician.

As she watched his two hands orchestrate their dance around the instrument he held, it occurred to her that the device he so masterfully expressed himself upon bore strong resemblance to her own feminine shape. She blushed as a warmth surprisingly surged through her and she instinctively knew that such hands as could express themselves in this spirit-touching manner must also know their way around the body of such a woman as she--nay, even her very soul.

Now nearly breathless, she lifted her gaze from the interplay of man and instrument, the dance between fret and soundboard, mesmerized by the now open dark and penetrating eyes that seemed to search her inner depths. The soft smile on his lips assured her that any fears were in vain and she began to willingly open her heart and mind to this heavenly symphony that she had nearly lost in her desire to hurry to nowhere important.

Relative Size

2005-11-15T17:34:00.000-08:00

Relative Size--(C) Steven G. O'Dell Nov. 2005

The warm sunshine felt wonderful on her arms and legs as she ran across the large open yard. The breeze was gentle, but more pronounced as she ran inhaling the fragrant air that wafted from the nearby lilac bushes and rose garden. The grass brushed her toes lightly with each bounding step and all was right with the world in this little girl's life. She felt so alive in this great big world that surrounded her.

With a sudden leap, she rolled to the ground and lay still for a moment, basking in the sunshine that bathed her naked skin and warmed her from head to foot. Catching her breath, she could hear the birds in the trees and in the sky overhead. 'Such a great big world,' she thought. Rubbing her arms back and forth across the blades of grass, as though making a summertime snow angel, the softness of the experience caused her to roll over onto her stomach, where she began to inspect the wonders before her.

Each blade, though seemingly at first glance the same as all its neighbors, was in its own way unique, even if only because the mower had shaved each in a different manner--some smoothly, some more torn, some angled and others straight as could be. She marveled that she had never noticed this before and as she stared closely at one particular blade she noticed the movement of some small creature that caught her eye. It was an ordinary ant, but she was in a state of heightened awareness today that led her to study this insect as she never had before. What a wondrous little creation this was and she marveled over it for several minutes as it went about its business in the grass before her. Until another movement caught her now sensitive eye.

It was incredibly tiny and she actually strained to come closer and focus upon it. What appeared to her fascinated gaze was an almost unbelievably minute creature, red and having all the appearance of a spider in its nature. She was now struck with a sense of wonder that she had indeed never felt. Here was something that she was discovering for the very first time in her young life--as if it were a new world, only now revealed to the eyes of mankind.

The detail she observed in this nearly microscopic creature was stunning. Every needful part was there to allow it to function in its own huge world and each worked to perfection. The young girl suddenly knew two things very clearly. First, large as her own world had seemed but a few short moments ago, there were things that must feel so much tinier than she. And secondly, she knew that she would never see her world in quite the same way ever again.

All In How You See It

2005-11-15T17:31:00.000-08:00

All In How You See It--(C) Steven G. O'Dell Nov. 2005

The old woman sat on the park bench pretending not to notice that her husband was doing it again. It happened every time they went to the park. It happened when they walked the street as they did each day at this time. It was happening again--now--and the old woman had finally lost her tolerance for it. She had never said anything as she saw him looking at these young women in the park or on the street, but had held her tongue as long as she could. She would say nothing again today, but her silence was no indication of concession on her part. No, far from it. Today she would hold her peace and do what she had imagined for so long. She would finally put an end to his wandering eye forever. She only had to wait for the right opportunity, but she was confident it would soon come. Perhaps something in his evening cocoa or a mix-up in his medications. No matter how, she thought, the time had come and she would act upon it. There were limits to what a woman ought to tolerate and she had indeed reached her limit.

The old man sat quietly on the park bench beside his wife. Occasionally he would watch the young women there with their boyfriends or their husbands. He hurt each time he thought of how badly he and his wife had wanted children of their own, but had not been able to do so. Reflecting now that his wife had especially wanted a daughter, the old man gazed silently at the young lady passing before him and wondered to himself--if they had been blessed with a daughter of their own, how old would she be by now? What would she look like? Would she already have children of her own, making him a grandfather? Dismissing these thoughts from his mind, he sighed in a barely audible manner and turned to his wife and smiled. He had at least been blessed with the most beautiful and wonderful woman in the world. He had enjoyed many years together with her, despite having no children, and he hoped to have many more in loving her. He was indeed a happy man and could complain very little about the hand that God had dealt him.

Book Three--The Rival--first three chapters

2005-08-01T23:01:00.000-07:00

[This is likely the final edit of these chapters. One never really knows until it is finished altogether, but I post it here for your perusal, comment and critique, etc. Enjoy. Pardon the lack of italics and other amenities. It seems the blog program has suddenly taken a disliking to them. The final version will have that and more. Please do comment, whether good or bad. It helps me to make a better story.]

Chapter 1

It was in many respects a party like any other that she had previously attended; posh neighborhood, nice home, large rooms to accommodate the entertaining of guests, many of the same faces that had frequented other parties that she had been to. Again Jenna was surrounded by the typical suitors who had vied for her attention in the past. She was a beautiful woman and she had an attractive power that drew men of all ages to stare at her in rapturous delight. Many seemed stunned to silence or became babbling fools in her presence. She both loved and hated this attention. Loved it for the obvious reason--every woman wants to feel beautiful, attractive and be appreciated. Every woman wants to be to be popular, to be the center of attention now and then. She hated it for perfectly legitimate reasons, too. Other women alienated and resented her for her loveliness because they found it so difficult to compete. Jealousy from others was all too easy around her. Developing friendships with other women was difficult at best. It also made friendship with men difficult. None wanted to be just friends. They all became so enamored of her that mere friendship was the furthest thing from their minds. At times Jenna Smith wished she were plainer in features--just an ordinary looking woman.

So, here she was in what had become a very common situation for her, with the majority of the men surrounding her and the majority of the women gravitating to the edges of the room where they could quietly and secretly hate her, in groups or in private. Even within the few legitimate couples that might remain together, the men often shot furtive glances at Jenna that female counterparts may or may not let on that they had noticed.

Jenna was just a breath away from excusing herself and leaving the party with a firm vow to never attend one again. In fact, she could easily be on the verge of becoming a recluse, she told herself. Then it happened. One man stood beyond the circle that surrounded her. He stood slightly apart from the others, as though with the intent to make himself more visible. His face reflected a slightly amused look, rather like the Mona Lisa in effect. His intense blue eyes caught her attention and held her firmly. A connection had been made and a rapport seemed to be promised. At least he did not have either the ravenous hunger in his eyes or the mindless awe written on his countenance that many of these others did.

As Jenna admired this blond Adonis, so well dressed and self-assured, he silently nodded his head to the side in the direction of a quieter and more private place, signifying that she should follow, and he began to walk toward the door of a small parlor area of their host's home.

Jenna took the cue, knowing this was her perfect excuse to break away from all the attention that now burdened her. Sweetly and politely, she asked, "Would you gentlemen please excuse me for a short time? I should be back...."

Her words were interrupted when through the crowd pushed a man with dark hair like her own, though slightly unkempt. He looked out of place, not dressed for a party of this sort. He was not unpleasantly attired, just not appropriately so, being clothed in denim jeans and a T-shirt. He said not a word as he nudged and shouldered others aside, keeping his eyes on her and her alone. His whole gaze bespoke a man with an important message to deliver--a message of grave importance. And suddenly, there he was, directly in front of her. Without so much as a brief hesitation or even the slightest of introductions, he quickly leaned toward her and whispered into her ear for a few seconds before again standing straight. She had been almost expecting an uninvited kiss when he had come so close and her heart was pounding from the surprise, both that she had expected it and that he had not delivered. Though he now stood fully erect in front of her, he never took a step back from what would usually be understood to be her own personal space. He handed her a pen and paper, waiting silently and never taking his eyes from hers. She stared back, stunned with the intensity of his dark eyes and resolute demeanor. She gasped softly, realizing that in the depths of the moment she had involuntarily held her breath, but regaining her composure somewhat, she closed her opened mouth and began to write on the paper. Still looking slightly disoriented, she then handed back the paper and pen to this mysterious man as soon as she had finished with them. He smiled warmly, winked at her and silently departed as smoothly as he had entered, the questioning crowd moving aside as he left. She followed him with her eyes until he was nearly gone from her view, hesitating only to shoot a glance directly at her and vanish from sight.

For a second time Jenna excused herself and this time it was she that was pushing her way through the gathering in a desperate attempt to follow the man who had so recently exited the room. Hurrying through the assembled men and rushing out the doorway, Jenna came to a complete stop and scanned the new room, then continued on through the next doorway and into the front yard. Again, she halted and searched in all directions. Her eyes stopped as she saw her denim-clad messenger sliding swiftly over and disappearing behind the stone wall surrounding the yard. Her heart raced as she stood staring foolishly at the wall, as though expecting him to again pop over the top and answer her numerous questions. She chuckled softly to herself at the thought when, lo and behold, he did indeed peer over the wall and grinning widely, blew her a kiss and again dropped out of sight. Jenna's heart jumped again, pounding so hard she thought it would be readily apparent to anyone who should stand near her. Her hands instinctively went to her chest and she privately grinned at her behavior, so out of character and unexpected. 'I'm twenty-five years old and acting like a high school girl with a crush', she told herself. 'I don't even know his name, for pity's sake'.

It suddenly occurred to her that she had neglected to write her own name on the paper before handing it back. Though he now had her phone number, he still did not have her name. What a strange turn of events, she thought, still staring fondly at the spot where he had vanished. Her silent reverie was interrupted by a male voice from behind her.

"Having second thoughts?"

Startled, she jumped visibly and turned quickly to face the source of the voice. It was the gorgeous blond who had caught her eye earlier. Inelegantly, she answered, "Huh? Sorry, about what?"

"Well, I had thought we might be alone for awhile, but I went one way and you went another, so I thought perhaps you were having reservations and had decided it more prudent to escape." The good-natured humor was still apparent on his face.

"Oh, that," she mused. Her hand came up and waved a quick dismissal to his comment. "No, just a temporary distraction, that's all." She found herself looking again toward the stone wall, as though a magnet drew her attention involuntarily.

The new suitor followed her gaze, a more serious look now replacing the previous humor. "No problem, I hope."

"Oh, no! No, none at all." She swung swiftly back to face him and smiled passively.

Returning the smile and offering his hand, he replied, "My name is Perry."

"Jenna. Jenna...." She stopped suddenly short of giving her last name, not certain that she felt thoroughly comfortable in doing so.

"I assure you, Jenna-Jenna, that I do not bite." He made a joke out of it to alleviate her discomfort, emphasizing the last three words good-naturedly.

She laughed softly and responded, "I'm sorry. Is it that obvious?"

"You positively radiate nervousness," he replied with a warm smile.

She relaxed a bit and starting again said, "Jenna. Jenna Smith," extending her own hand in return. The raised eyebrow of suspicion he gave made her laugh again. "And I assure you that Smith is my real name, okay?"

"If you insist. Shall we?" He suggested they return to the party, motioning toward the house and offering his arm.

Though she took it, the first urge was to run for the wall and bolt over it herself, no matter how unlady-like it might appear to do so. She fought the feeling, thinking it strange that she would regret one unknown man not knowing her name, yet hesitate to give it to another, having had virtually equal exposure to both of them, socially-speaking. And especially when she knew literally nothing about either of them, that she would even be having such feelings at all was quite extraordinary.

CHAPTER 2

Two days had passed and Jenna was beginning to feel a letdown. No call yet from the mysterious young man who had crashed the party. It was the only logical conclusion--he was simply a gatecrasher. No one knew him or had invited him. He would have been forcibly ejected from the party within minutes had he not left when he did. It was all so daring of him and she was dieing to know who he was and why he had done it, but now she was starting to think he'd done it simply on a whim or as a dare and that in the end he would never call her at all.

But, perhaps the party was not a total loss. She had, after all, met Perry Rollins. He seemed a nice enough man--polite and gentlemanly and so good-looking. It could be that he, too, would understand the curse of beauty as she did. Still, something inside her yearned to again see the dangerous, exciting man who had her number, but not her name. Well, if he waits too long, I shall be very angry indeed, she thought. Perhaps I should be angry even now--this is no way to treat a lady. Yes--yes, I shall tell him off and hang up on him when he calls...if he calls. She corrected herself and was surprised to find her heart sink at the thought.

Within seconds, it rose again dramatically as the phone rang. She surprised even herself with the speed and the unthinking response. The phone was at her ear almost before she was aware of it.

"Hello?" She stood breathless and awaiting an answer--a male voice. Please let it be him.

"Are you alone?" came the voice on the other end.

It was him. She froze a few seconds before answering. "Yes...yes, I am." Her eyes closed involuntarily, as if to shut out the world and be even more alone than she already was. "I thought you'd never call," she said demurely.

"That would be no way to treat a lady, now, would it?" He said it matter-of-factly and she laughed silently, eyes still closed, to hear him repeat what she so recently had been thinking.

Her free hand rose to brush back her hair and then came to rest at the base of her neck, just above her breasts. She was breathing shallowly and rapidly in anticipation. "Who are you? Why did you ask for my number?"

"Why did you give it to me?"

Confused, she answered hesitantly. "I don't know. Something about the way you spoke, I guess. I thought you could be trusted--can you?"

Many seconds of silence went by before he answered pleasantly. "A bit late for that now, isn't it?"

"Yes, I guess it is. My name is Jenna. May I have yours, please?"

"Sure; it's Tom. When can I see you?"

"Tom what?" she asked, trying to maintain some degree of control in the situation. It was unexplainably difficult and she hated herself for that.

"Does it matter, really? What's in a name? A rose by any other name, as they say...." He stopped and waited.

"Shakespeare--what a surprise. An educated gatecrasher," she shot back. Suddenly surprised by her own insolence and inwardly wincing from the pain she may have just caused him, she waited silently for what seemed ages before he responded, holding her breath and hoping he would not hang up.

"I wanted to take you to a nice place I know of, but if you would rather not...." He again waited without finishing the sentence.

Her mind was racing. What should I do? What do I say? Jenna blurted out her answer from instinct rather than premeditation. "Try me!" Oh! So stupid! How ungraceful.

"Alright, seven o 'clock tonight, then. What's your address?"
Silence again as he waited for her response.

Why am I doing this? Jenna's thoughts were positively whirling, but before she could think rationally, he had her address and had hung up the phone. Jenna sat down heavily, exhaling in resignation. Tom--that's all she knew. His name was Tom. I must be mad, she reasoned and shook her head before placing it firmly between her open palms.

The phone rang again. A second time her hand shot out to bring it to her ear. "Yes? Tom?"

"Tom? No, this is Perry. From the party, remember?"

"Oh, yes. Of course I do. How are you, Perry?" It was a strange anti-climax when compared to the feeling she had felt a brief moment ago.

"Fine, thank you. I wanted to say how much I enjoyed talking with you the other day. You are a very charming woman. I had hoped to ask you out and get to know you better. Tonight, perhaps?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Perry. Tonight is just not possible."

"I see. A date with Tom, I take it?"

"Umm...well...yes, actually. Could we make it another time?" she recovered.

"Yes, of course. It would be my pleasure. Tomorrow night, then?" He never missed a beat.

Alright, Perry. Tomorrow at seven, I will be ready. My address is..."

"I already know your address, Jenna." Her silence told him she was stunned, afraid or both and he rushed to reassure her. "I asked our hostess, that's all. She had seen us talking so pleasantly and she thought it no breach of trust to tell me where you live. Was I wrong to ask?"

So smooth, she thought. Not, 'was the hostess wrong,' but 'was I wrong?' Very smooth indeed.

"Little we can do about that now, so I'll see you tomorrow at seven, okay?" Her inference was that she was a little peeved at him, but willing to forgive. The truth was that her irritation stemmed from the letdown after the initial adrenaline rush from talking to Tom. There was a danger, a mystery and the excitement of the possibly taboo there. It was over all too soon and back to the mundane. She was drawn to Tom, she knew. That's all she knew about him--just Tom. It was all quite maddening.

Perry, if he noticed, chose to overlook her implied resentment and simply continued. "Fine, then I will see you in a little over twenty-four hours. 'Bye for now" and he disconnected.

Startled, Jenna looked at her watch. He was right about the time, which meant that she had little more than an hour to be ready for Tom. She dropped the phone sloppily and ran to prepare herself. There was a shower to get, her hair to be done and just the right dress to choose. Makeup, fortunately, was a small issue for one blessed with such features as she, but tonight Jenna fretted over it as never before, all the while feeling foolish for doing so and yet unable to resist.

The appointed hour came and the minutes ticked by--five, ten, and now fifteen. Excitement and anticipation had begun to turn to frustration when the doorbell finally rang. Though expected, it still startled Jenna enough to make her jump in the midst of her incessant pacing. Her hands fairly shook as she opened the door and her eyes met his.

"Please forgive my tardiness. I wanted this wrapped properly before I gave it to you." He handed her a small box with a bow on it and a single red rose tucked through the wide ribbon, adorned with Baby's Breath and the fragile fern greenery that completed the magic. It worked on Jenna, for all thoughts of resentment vanished like the frost beneath the sun.

"Oh...," she stood breathless and melting.

"Please, allow me." Tom took the rose and began to pin it to her dress before she knew what he meant to do. She shivered at his touch as his hands deftly pinned the corsage above her left breast. Frightened and excited simultaneously, she thought he spent a bit too much time pinning it to her.

"I must be careful. Can't have the pin harming such perfectly lovely skin, can we?"

Jenna could feel her face begin to heat and was certain she was beginning to blush. "Uh,....shall I open this now or later?" she changed the subject.

"What would be your preference?"

Eager to change the mood, she dove into the task of opening the box, only able to nervously smile where she felt she should be saying something eloquent to show her gratitude. Each time she tried, she saw that his eyes never left hers and she nervously retreated again into silence and to the task at hand.

Finally, with the ribbon untied and the lid removed, Jenna saw a roll of paper inside, held by a ribbon of the same color as the outer one, but more delicate and befitting of this new task. "What is it?" she asked, looking directly at him this time. A brief smile graced his lips and his eyes sparkled, nearly laughing. Jenna felt drawn into the dark depths of those beautiful eyes. She saw they’re a warmth and passion, hidden just out of reach, which was there for the taking by the right woman.

"Please, read it." His eyes now looked to the roll and again to hers, expectant and waiting.

Jenna turned to the nearest table, set the box down and opened the roll of paper by sliding the ribbon off one end. As she unfolded the parchment, the text and feel of it all struck her in a manner she could not explain. It seemed as if she were about to get a revelation of some sort. There was a feel of great antiquity to it and a spirit of its own that she could somehow sense. Around the corners were graphic adornments, penned in a fragile and delicate hand, adding a sense of romanticism to the entire presentation. The text was in black ink and bore the look of calligraphy or quill penmanship. All of this told her it was exquisite--and this before she had even read a word.

Startled at her feelings, she began to read and as she did, she also began to melt from the passion of these written words. It was a love letter and she knew suddenly that the feelings of its antiquity were no accident. This was the genuine article. She looked again at the wooden box. It, too, was not of recent construction and she now noticed the handcrafted and delicate details of it that she had failed to see before. "I don't understand...." she began and ended.

"Read on and you will." Again his eyes motioned to the paper and this time stayed there.

The words were the sincere and passionate words of a man deeply in love. They were rare and beautiful words of the heart, spoken to the woman of his desires. She was a precious jewel to him and he left no doubt of that in every phrase he penned. Everything about it was surpassingly magnificent. His heart ached to be one with her and Jenna felt that he would die if it could not be so. Jenna caught her breath and shaking her head in disbelief, told Tom, "You can't give this to me."

"It's mine. I can give it to whomever I choose," he spoke softly and firmly.

"No, you don't understand. I can't take it."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but a moment ago you were the one claiming not to understand. Now you're saying it's me? Aren't you a bit confused?"

"No...well, yes, but...." Jenna closed her eyes and hoped the confusion would all go away. When she opened her eyes, Tom was gone. Just as quickly the puzzle was solved when she heard him again, now from behind her.

"Would you like to sit and discuss it?" He had silently walked around her and now stood beside her couch, as though in no hurry to leave.

"Mmmm...you know, I think we can talk this over later. I am rather hungry all of a sudden," she lied.

"Shall we?" Tom offered his arm to her and she felt no choice but to accept.

CHAPTER 3

The restaurant was a quiet and intimate little place; unpresumptuous, but charming. Jenna could not recall ever seeing the place before and would have sworn there was no such place, if asked in casual conversation. Yet, here it was.

"This restaurant is wonderful. How did you find it?"

"Yes, it is wonderful. I'm glad you like it. I found it one evening when I was walking the streets and feeling sorry for myself. I've come back every now and then since that day."

"Sounds ominous. You come here to feel sorry for yourself?" Jenna asked half-jokingly.

"No, nothing of the sort," he laughed. "There were a few couples here that first night and I watched them from the safety of my little corner. They looked so happy and they gazed so deeply into one another’s' eyes that I vowed I would one day come here and bring with me someone I might feel that way about."

Jenna tensed and before she could stop him, Tom had taken her hand in both of his and held her firmly, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Jenna, listen to your heart. You don't want to be afraid, do you?"

Her head was swimming. "This is all happening far too quickly, Tom. I need time to think." She tried to pull her hand back, but he was firm.

"Time to talk yourself out of the only true and complete happiness you ever wanted in your life?"

She pulled her hand again and this time she was free. "This is insane. I don't even know you and you don't know me." She was standing up and preparing to retreat when he answered.

"Yes, you do know me and I know you! Examine your heart--your feelings. Do you want the plain vanilla boring life you've led until now?"

Her head was shaking in confusion and all she could say was, "I have to go now." In seconds she was gone and out the door.

On the street Jenna walked in silence, quickly and staring at the sidewalk. With no idea of where she was going, she suddenly froze with fear at the sound of a bus horn, seemingly inches from her. A hand grabbed her and pulled her onto the curb. It was Tom. Jenna was shaking like a leaf and made no attempt to resist as he took her into his arms and held her close. Uttering not a word, it was several minutes before she stopped trembling and he said simply, "Let me take you home." She nodded wordlessly and they turned to go to his car. He said not a word to her and they rode the few miles in utter silence.

At her apartment, Jenna again reflected confusion when the door was opened and she needed to step in. Sensing her dilemma, Tom answered her unspoken concern. "I have to go now. You get some rest. You have a lot to think about." His hand brushed her hair back affectionately and his soft smile caused her to relax a degree.

Nodding assent, Jenna entered the apartment and closed the door, leaning her head against it and listening to Tom's fading footsteps in the hallway. I'm tired, she thought. Turning toward the table across the room, she now caught sight of the box and the scroll of parchment. The thought of chasing after him to return it was overwhelming at the moment and Jenna simply unfastened her buttons and walked to her bedroom. Tomorrow is another day.

But Jenna got very little sleep that night. She had just had her first date with Tom and still did not know his last name. Add to that the fact that he had given her a very precious, but very confusing gift. And to top off this whole mix was the fact that he had quite likely saved her life tonight. Emotions ran high and she had disturbing dreams, when she did manage to doze. Please, let morning come, she thought. How had her life become so complicated in so short a time?

Strange thoughts at strange times--The Guitar

2005-07-28T20:36:00.000-07:00

Funny at what times the darndest thoughts can hit you; like a short story at midnight when you are trying to go to bed and are way overdue. The following story hit me at just that time and was insistent enough to delay my sleep for another half hour. This story seemed to have a life of its own and the imagery was extremely captivating, even to me. I knew immediately that it was very powerful and needed to be shared. Preliminary feedback has been tremendous. I hope you like it.

The Guitar--Steven G. O'Dell July 2005

The music was unlike any she had ever heard before. It grabbed her by the heartstrings and pulled her physically to itself. The otherworldly strains came softly from the inner recesses of the undistinguished and quaint little shop that she had nearly missed in her private rush down the narrow cobblestone street, but she now stood transfixed as the sultry tones of the simple acoustic guitar beckoned to her from the darkness beyond the door.

One step at a time, slowly she marched forward, led by the intoxicating siren sound of an unseen master. Gradually, as her eyes became accustomed to the dim lighting of the room, the form took shape of a seated man bent over a guitar. His eyes were tightly closed, as though in deep meditation and his head bobbed and weaved subtly to the emotional melodies that so fluidly poured forth. His behavior suggested that he did not just play the music, but that he also experienced it, lived in it fully and passionately.

His fingers were now gentle and quivering, then again swift and light and she knew that the music that so deeply stirred her did not come alone from the fingers and mind of the musician, but from the depths of his very soul. His roughly handsome face changed with each phrase; soaring, now weeping and then flights of ecstasy and beyond. Tears flowed easily from her as the melodies played about her heart and feelings. She felt nearly captive and helpless in the grip of this master musician. As she watched his two hands orchestrate their dance around the instrument he held, it occured to her that the device he so masterfully expressed himself upon bore strong resemblance to her own feminine shape. She blushed as a warmth surprisingly surged through her and she instinctively knew that such hands as could express themselves in this spirit-touching manner must also know their way around the body of such a woman as she--nay, even her very soul.

Now nearly breathless, she lifted her gaze from the interplay of man and instrument, the dance between fret and soundboard, mesmerized by the now open dark and penetrating eyes that seemed to search her inner depths. The soft smile on his lips assured her that any fears were in vain and she began to willingly open her heart and mind to this heavenly symphony that she had nearly lost in her desire to hurry to nowhere important.

Book Two--The Evil Returns

2005-07-26T21:14:00.000-07:00

I have finished transcribing the second installment of the Shining Armor series. It was all handwritten (my family loved their computer time as much as I do) and still needed typed. What surprised me is how much room the handwritten word can take up in a notebook and how little room it can appear to be on the printed page. Aside from having to flesh out the story to the tune of about 100%, no worries. I have faith it can be done, but have to admit that the temptation was there to just tack it into the first cover and call it 'part two' from there. Cooler heads prevailed (well, that remains to be seen) and I will do my best to fill it out some more. The basic premise is good and I am sure it will hold up to the tweaking (if 100% fleshing out can be called tweaking).

The siren song of part three is calling me wildly and I may have to get it down on PC first. It covers a good portion of two handwritten notebooks. (Funny, the first one was taken from notes that filled very FEW pages and I had less trouble developing it into over 60,000 words than I am with this second one.) Well, here we go again.

Preliminary Excerpt from Book Two of Shining Armor series--The Evil Returns

2005-07-26T17:06:00.000-07:00

[The following will likely be fleshed out a bit more and detailed better, but it is here in rough form for commentary by any readers that wish to respond. Thanks for all the support.]

The day had come for Ron to see the insurance investigators. He and Denise walked in with all of his financial records, income statements, affidavits of his character and every other scrap of evidence in his favor that he could procure.

“Mr. Jameson, I’m Charles Findley. Would you please come with me—alone, if you don’t mind.” He glanced at Denise as he said this.

“Alone? Why is that?”

“The policy is in your name. Unless, of course, this is your attorney….” He waited for Ron to verify.

“No, this is my wife and she has every reason to be interested and supportive in this matter, wouldn’t you agree?” Ron's manner was firm. It was obvious he was not going to bend.

“Ah…yes, of course. This way, please.” The point had been made and Findley turned to lead them. Victory number one for our side, Denise thought and she winked covertly at Ron.

After all were seated, Findley immediately began to state his company’s policies and their stand regarding Ron’s situation. The pile of papers in front of him seemed endless and Ron now showed his impatience just as quickly.

“Can we just cut to the chase here, Mr. Findley? You think I burned my own home for the insurance money. It’s quite obvious that you do. I know it and you know now that I know it. The fact is that you are paid to find ways not to pay on policies that your company cheerfully takes money for. I can almost accept that as legitimate. It has its place in cases of fraud, but it is entirely reprehensible and may be fraud itself to take money from honest folks when you know that you have no intent to deliver on your advertised promises. And, if I am not mistaken, I believe there is at least a law regarding truth in advertising, in addition to breach of contract….”

“Mr. Jameson….” Findley attempted to interrupt and again gain the high ground in this battle of wills, but Ron maintained his newfound momentum and pushed forward with a strength born of excess frustration and pent up rage.

“One moment, sir. I might add that the Attorney General could well be interested in the outcome of this little meeting. Now, you have quite a stack of papers there in front of you. You must have before you every aspect of my life. Your resources are probably much better than you’d ever admit. Then it should also follow that you will know that I am not in any dire financial straits—i.e., I am not a gambler, I have not of late contracted any diseases, nor do I have any pressing and expensive medical needs of any kind, etcetera, etcetera and etcetera. You have likely checked my background deeply enough to have seen that I had top-level security clearance in my work for the government, so the moral veracity of my character is above reproach.” Ron now stood and glared down at Findley from his fully erect height. “You could have verified anything that you chose to, but just in case you have missed something, I have a present for you.” He slammed his own pile of papers onto the desk in front of Findley, who involuntarily jumped at the sound. “Add this to your reading. Perhaps there are details your diligent staff of investigators chose to ignore. If you are an honest and a wise man, as I hope you are, you have nothing to fear in this matter, but if you are not, I will go to every legal measure to hold you personally responsible. Do you understand?”

Findley was a seasoned veteran in the insurance business. Still, he was unused to such treatment from those that he was supposed to be intimidating. The whole thing was very unsettling and he tried unsuccessfully to maintain an air of indifference. “Mr. Jameson, there is no need for threats, I assure you.” He was now on his own feet, trying to regain the lost psychological advantage. Before he could do so, Ron took Denise by the arm and left, slamming the door loudly. Findley stood in stunned silence, staring at the now closed door. Much as he wanted the last word, he actually hesitated to follow.

“That did feel very good.” Ron clenched his fists in a half-raised gesture that signaled his own feeling of invigoration.

“That was an inspiring performance. You’ve won this round, Sir Ronald. Absolutely magnificent.”

He smiled so wide that he feared it would become permanent. “I was inspired, I guess. It felt so good to blow off some steam at the petty little tyrant. I think I scared him, don’t you?”

“Well, he won’t soon forget Ronald Jameson, I can assure you." She laughed aloud as she pictured his face again. Her laughter was like the sweetest music to Ron. It had been far too long since he had seen her really happy and encouraged.

Thank God for (some) distractions

2005-06-09T17:43:00.000-07:00

There are times in ones life that you may find you are obsessing and stressing. There has been a lot of that in my own life of late. I am not sure if it is in general just the human condition or if it is specifically the writers condition. At any rate, when that happens I find myself thankful for the distractions and the variety that are the changes in scenery on the bumpy road to where I am trying to go.

One of the more interesting changes of scenery has been writing in other genres. In previous entries below you will see some jokes. You may be surprised by that, but it really surprised me to see the new twist that I include in this entry. The internet and e-mail sales letter! I think I have a flair for it, though. Well, the need was there, I felt, because I have started a business on the side that may benefit from the added exposure--leaving me to write a LOT more than I do now. See, there was an ulterior motive. Well, I welcome your responses, whether good, bad or ugly. Tell me what you think. If you like it and want me to write something for you, I will be glad to do so. Just click the contact button on the right. And with that...on with the show.

The Sales Letter:

I Know Something About You

It may surprise you when I say that I already know something about you, though we have yet to meet (but that could soon change and we will be good friends). What do I know about you? I know that you often feel "there must be a better way, a better opportunity just around the corner, some way to take care of all my troubles, whether health or financial." I know your eyes and ears have been open to it and you are seeking that opportunity diligently. Maybe even desperately, as I was so recently. And I know you will instinctively recognize that opportunity when it arrives, just as I did. That is why I ask--no, demand--your undivided attention for the next three minutes. Three minutes that could alter your life forever. I know that is a claim you think I cannot possibly defend and fulfill, but you would be wrong to assume so. What I am about to offer you is like receiving the world itself in a basket. It could have that much influence for good in your life and for those you most care about.

Alright, do I now have your attention? Are you relaxed? Are you where there will be no distractions? If not, chase the kids and spouse out for a moment and tell them you will apologize later--this is too important for you to miss even one word of what I am about to share with you. Focus totally on what I am about to tell you. I want you to imagine something very exciting for a moment--and I want you to believe it can and will happen to you! Imagine this...

What If….

What if you could join today one of the top 5 fastest growing companies of all time? Right up there with Dell, Yahoo, Ebay and Microsoft.

What if it was a debt-free company that was, even in its infancy, already breaking all records of companies 10-30 years old in their multi-billion dollar industry?

What if this company had a completely unique and totally proprietary product that could be sold and used worldwide today without any restrictions?

And what if it had gone through all the growing pains already, was approaching its 3rd anniversary and you were getting in after all the proof had been shown and while all the fortune-making potential is still there?

What if you knew that brand name recognition would eventually be in every household--that it would be the first name thought of and be totally synonymous with the product forever, because the company could well be here forever?

And what if, as a distributor, you never had to worry about unchallenged patent infringements, lawsuits, questionable marketing methods or even stocking, selling (if that is what you chose) and never getting stuck with unwanted products?

And what if you never had to worry that your product was back-ordered when you needed it most? Or your friends and family wanted it fast?

What if you could be proud to offer not only a product that changes lives healthwise, but can improve lives financially, just like magic?

And what if you knew that a percentage of everything would go to the most worthy charities, helping kids around the world?

And maybe as impressive as any of the other points, what if you knew that hundreds more doctors every month were recommending this product to their patients and that world-renown medical facilities were now doing the same?

What if you could do all this from home—maybe you are a stay-at-home parent who needs that freedom? You can do it just that way and succeed beyond your wildest dreams, because with this system there is no such thing as ‘no support’.

Dreams Do Come True

I know that’s a lot of “what if’s”, but there is such a company and such a product. Both are unique and honorable. Both have the ability to change your life forever. The company and the product are called XanGo (pronounced zan-go). This is the opportunity you have been waiting for.
There is no question about it. This Is It.

Getting to the Point

You may know how careful one has to be with making medical claims regarding any product produced today. Thirty years of documented scientific research relieves you of that worry with XanGo. Want to know what I thought when I first heard the claims about XanGo? I thought the claims were too far-fetched--preposterous. I thought, 'you have got to be kidding--a magic bullet, some cure-all panacea? You can't possibly prove it.' Well, I was wrong. The XanGo people can and do prove it!

Why is XanGo special? It is all due to the high concentration of some very unique molecules that are extremely rare in any other botanicals. The number of medical indications XanGo has been proven for are too numerous to list here, but a look into thirty years of research will prove the claims. To be honest, I was stunned! And overjoyed at the same time! I had finally found an honest company with a genuine product that had lasting power. I knew they would not be a here today and gone tomorrow company. My opportunity had arrived. What is more important is that your opportunity has arrived, also. I want you to be certain of that. And I can honestly say that I have seen improvements in my own life and the lives of family members and friends. I recommend it because it works.

Do you ever get paid to tell others about a great movie you have seen? No? Well, you can be paid to share with others what XanGo has done for you. Will you want to? YES! I believe you will be so pleased with the results you see in the improvement of your own health and well being that you will not hesitate to tell others whom you know will benefit from the XanGo miracle, also. Why do I call it a miracle?

Because it helps so many different kinds of ailments that afflict our world today.
Because so many M.D.’s are now prescribing it enthusiastically to their patients.
And because those patients are getting well and shouting their joy over it.
It works--without resorting to toxic or invasive methods of any kind.

Count On It

As a XanGo user and distributor (much like a membership through which you save nearly half the cost and purchase wholesale) you will get paid when others join through you, but you will never have to compute down lines and count bonus points and payment checks and so forth. None of the hassles of running a business will keep you from enjoying the benefits of a profitable home business or having a more carefree life. The efficiency and integrity of XanGo is at the top and then some. This company is successful because the organization is above reproach. That means a lot to you as a prospective XanGo distributor. As a member of the fastest growing organization within XanGo that you are now being invited to join, you will receive your own personalized and amazingly professional website, just like this one: Click Here To See What Your Own Website Can Look Like.

There will also be a second website that has an auto responder to send regular educational e-mails to your opt-in contacts. In addition, you have the instant option to offer your site in Spanish, too. Your website will have links to everything from training to testimonials, so there will be nothing left out that you will need to succeed in this business. There will be no hosting fees or cost to you to use and promote your business online. You will be allowed to recruit and sell anywhere in the world that you choose, for the Internet knows no limits. You will have opportunities to join in radio co-op campaigns and other great things as they come to life. You will have educational and informational resources second to none and at fabulous prices. I feel so fortunate to have joined this, the fastest growing organization within the fastest growing health supplement company in the world. And I want you to be able to feel the same way.

In one year I want you to be broadly smiling at what you left behind and jumping in ecstatic joy for what you chose to do with your life. It can and will happen, if you believe.

Your Next Move

XanGo is destined to alter the health supplement market forever. XanGo is the brand name of the century—of the future. XanGo is the first to this market and holds the full patent rights to this product in its most effective form. Imitators already know this and are scrambling to steal a portion of the market in any way possible, but anything else is a pale substitute and XanGo is jealously guarding and aggressively protecting this product and opportunity for you. You are about to see a virtual explosion on the health drink supplement scene, unlike anything to have come before. The eastern hemisphere has known about the benefits of this product for thousands of years. Thirty years of scientific research and data now prove the claims and the western world is just now discovering XanGo.

A point to consider: The health and wellness industry grosses over 200 billion dollars a years. It is projected to be over one trillion dollars by 2010. With the western world just discovering this incredible product and the whole worldwide open to market via the Internet, why would you want to wait?
XanGo has broken every growth record in this industry during their first two years. That's why this single-product company has outsold decade-old companies that have hundreds of products in their line. The success of XanGo is product driven. Pay special attention to this next sentence: It took Microsoft 14 years to become a 1 billion dollar company. XanGo is on track to be a 1 billion dollar company in only 7 years. That’s half the time!
The ground floor is now. Therefore, there is only one mistake you can make and that is to not act now. Don't be sorry you waited. Be glad you acted early. But, if for some unexplainable reason you decide not to act now, pass this life-changing information along to someone you care about. They will thank you and maybe be able to convince you better than I have what an astounding opportunity this is.

Okay, now I want you to imagine again. I won’t ask you to imagine how miserable you will be when you see all your friends and family that responded to this opportunity when it first knocked. What I will ask you to imagine now is all the good you will see as you, friends and family who may be ailing physically are able to heal and improve the quality of life. As you and they are able to change forever the financial well being in your lives. No worries about where the house payment or electric bill money will come from. No concern over medical bills or college funds. And maybe even having the means to help someone anonymously when you desire to do so (but tell them about this opportunity, too—they will thank you).

What more could you ask for?
- A great product (we've got that)
- A great company (we've got that too!)
- Great timing (your timing couldn't be better)
- The ability to easily Duplicate Yourself (that's where the MyMangosteen system comes in)
All that’s missing is you.

Oh, and one more question...what if you could retire in 18 months with a steady income assured--even if you never actively worked your XanGo business again? Would that be something you would like? I can introduce you to someone who has already done it--with XanGo. (Okay, the truth is that he retired from his own construction business after only 18 months and he may NEVER quit telling others about XanGo—just as I would expect). This is that opportunity that can change your life forever. You have found the needle in the haystack. The question is, do you want to be next? The next move is yours.

Make your decision based on ALL the information. Visit my website, then call me. (Imagine…you could soon be directing others to your own website, just like I do).

Steven O'Dell
Home ph. 509-762-4212 Cell: 509-989-4499
mymangosteen.com/steveno
Click here for further info in your e-mail.
Write me at: xango@yours.com

You may be accident prone if...

2005-05-29T09:21:00.000-07:00

Hey, when you're on a roll, go with it, I say.

You may be accident prone if...

You've ever fallen out of a pair of shoes.
Your bruises heal up and friends ask, "What happened to you?"
You have callouses on the side of your head.
You can fall upstairs.
People have tried to attach training wheels to you.
You once got a cell phone caught in your ear.
You get personally offended at slapstick comedy.
You know people around you are taking bets, but won't tell you why.
You get hurt while climbing the wheel-chair ramp.
You've ever cut yourself with a butter knife.
Standing up makes you very nervous.
Your standing up makes others very nervous.
You won't use a pencil sharpener because "mechanical things" scare you.

Others clear a room to "wait until you are finished with it."
The hospital has a welcome mat with your name on it.
The Guiness Book people have called you "because you are famous."
You are Evel Kneivel's hero.
Scientists want to study you and are willing to pay handsomely.
You have been hit by more than three meteorites...this month alone.
You have a permanent asphalt tattoo on your forehead.
Any sudden movements, like waving, makes others cringe.
You think using a file cabinet should be "left to the experts".
If mail addressed to your house is prefaced with, "Keep out of reach of..." and bears your name.

Your closest friends have had a special walker made for you, "just like the ones toddlers use, only bigger."

You're thinking of volunteering for a cloning project.
You've ever crossed your fingers because it was less noticable that way.
You have a "permanent wave" in your skull.
Inanimate objects seek to move out of your way.
The words "I'm going to..." meet with peals of laughter.
If everything in your house is decorated in early Nerf.
Your "train of thought" has ever resulted in a wreck.
You cut your finger on a string while practicing "air guitar".
Dinner forks make you break out in hives and give you hiccups.
You've ever had a tea cup removed from your esophagus.
A new wing at the hospital may soon bear your name, though you don't recall contributing anything.

You are the poster child for any medical organization.
Paramedics thank you for making their early retirements possible.
You get Christmas cards from Johnson & Johnson.
You refer to common sewing repairs as sutures.
You've been made an honorary lab rat.
You change a tire and can't pull your hand free without removing lug nuts.
You've been named the Ninth Wonder of the World.
You've ever pursed your lips and couldn't un-purse them.
You were told to "zip your lip" and got it caught in the zipper.
The mere act of waking up causes nosebleeds.
You discover you have several new wounds upon waking up.

And last, but not least, a definite sign: If you've ever gotten hurt while changing your mind, you may indeed be accident prone.

If you enjoyed the humor, please show your appreciation by visiting my website for info on what is as close to a natural health miracle as I have ever seen. http://www.mymangosteen.com/steveno

You may be a lousy cook if...

2005-05-29T09:07:00.000-07:00

I guess I have needed a lot of diversion lately, 'cause here is another one:

You may be a lousy cook if...

Your dog starts howling each time you move toward the kitchen.
Your children really believe there is such a thing as the Charcoal Lover's Pizza.
You are always the "guest of honor" at all the church potluck dinners and as such have "no need to cook".

You think of beans and franks as exotic cuisine.
You make two kinds of Jello--smooth or crunchy.
Your biscuits are heavy as lead, but they won't go down.
A food fight with your cooking causes life-threatening injuries.
If you start hearing things like, "No thanks, I ate just yesterday."
If a new meal is greeted with, "Leftovers again?"
Your guests ask you to identify which are the peas and which are the carrots.
Your children start following dinner with ipecac and epinephrine chasers.
Several neighborhood dogs have died of mysterious circumstances.
Dry heaves are just a part of your life.
You've ever bought Pepto Bismol in the handy 5 gallon size.
Your family doctor has a stomach pump with your family crest on it.
Your dinner table has ever been quarantined and you were banished from the kitchen for extended periods.

Your family invented anorexia and bulimia.
More than seven of your favorite recipes use Ramen as the main ingredient.

The Surgeon General and several FDA officials are on a first name basis with you.
The World Health Organization and the Center for Disease Control have adopted your family.
If Saddam Hussein ever asked you for your recipes.
Alka-Seltzer is considered a dessert in your home.
The makers of Raid, Black Flag and Roach-Prufe have all offered to buy you out.
Tour bus occupants drive by, slow down, point and shake heads, but never stop.
That "spontaneous picket fence" around your house is made entirely of handmade crosses, donated by anonymous caring individuals.

Your meat balls, when fired at high velocities, have been demonstrated to kill vampires.

A new and unusual syndrome has been dubbed in your honor.
If Anyone eating your home-made bread has ever broken a tooth or fractured a jaw.

Portland Cement Company has identified three new molecular structures in your biscuits.

Your dinner rolls may have newfound applications in rail gun and particle accelerator technologies.

The Department of Defense has classified your cooking as Top Secret in the interest of national security.

Your kitchen has ever been lovingly referred to as Ground Zero.
If your waste-basket or garbage disposal ever threw up.
The mere thought of "eating in" causes spontaneous diahrrea and vomiting in your family members.

If you find that cooking is the quickest and most effective threat you can make.
Your pancakes are often mistaken for the plate.
Your husband asks for more pancakes just before he goes skeet shooting.
Your children are caught skipping your pancakes across the lake and several ducks are hurt.

You discover your kids stacking your homemade cupcakes and running for cover when they begin to tilt.

The baby begins crying when you ask if anyone is hungry.
The fumes from your cooked cabbage can peel paint...at a distance of three blocks.

The FDA has asked you to attach a warning label to all your concoctions.
You've inspired Hollywood producers to consider a new approach to the Lethal Weapon series of films, but Mel Gibson and Danny Glover are afraid to star in it.

Your Peanut Butter/Tuna Noodle Surprise brought the house down--literally.
Your kitchen has been listed as a Superfund Cleanup site.
And a huge indication to consider: If shoe repairmen use your waffles because they last longer than synthetic soles, you may indeed be a lousy cook.

If you enjoyed the humor, please show your appreciation by visiting my website for info on what is as close to a natural health miracle as I have ever seen. http://www.mymangosteen.com/steveno

You may be a heavy drinker if...

2005-05-26T12:45:00.000-07:00

Every now and then, when the stress gets to be a bit stifling, I like a diversion. I included my kids in this one and we came up with a line patterned after the Jeff Foxworthy "Redneck" jokes. Why we chose the topic of heavy drinkers is anyones guess. Maybe next time it will be Liberal jokes--you never know. At any rate, I hope you enjoy them. I post them here because there are many types of writing and because we just had a great time doing it. If they seem out of place, read them a few more times until you start to acclimatize (or build a tolerance). One of us will be glad you did ;-)

You may be a heavy drinker if...

· You've ever awakened in the morning with "carpet face".
· You don't recall your shoes being that color a moment ago.
· Everywhere you go is uphill.
· Close friends wear raincoats on sunny days.
· You spend more than one minute digging for your car keys
before you realize boxer shorts have no pocket.
· You don't recall the door being there when you came in.
· It has taken you more than 1 minute to find the door.
· You've ever put your shoes on backward and it felt right.
· Even the dog hides your car keys.
· You're glad you drove because you were in no shape to have walked.
· Your head is in the toilet more than your backside.
· You ever tried to bum a dollar from a cop or a parking meter.
· Just hearing the word "medicinal" makes you thirsty.
· You ever answered a hiccup with, "I'll drink to that".
· You've ever gone after more beer on your riding lawn mower.
· You've ever tried to climb over a sidewalk.
· If your idea of a balanced diet is a beer in each hand.
· If you dress like the Michelin Man for safety reasons.
· You conclude that you must have had a good time, because you can't
remember a thing.
· If you ever had more than one beer cap removed from a single body part.
· If gravitational anomalies seem to focus around you in particular.
· If someone burps and you holler, "Another round!"
· If you've ever screamed, "Stop! Let me off!" while in a prone position.
You consider a day without alcohol to be "fasting".
· You think of alcoholic drinks as 'staples'.
· If you stargaze a lot during daylight hours.
· You've ever tried to answer the phone and don't have one.
· If you can name more local bars than Presidents.
· If you don't like water because fish swim in it.
· You've ever tried to put a drink coaster in your CD player.
· You and your drinking buddies think you may have decoded the
TV test pattern.
· If you have ever had a "good conversation' with your dog.
· If you have ever wondered why you can't get the fishing
channel on the microwave.
· If you ever hit the bottom stair and just kept going.
· If the only thing on your Christmas list is beer.
· You think Smith and Wesson is a new distillery.
· If using the doggie door is easier than finding your keys.
· If, when pulled over by a cop, you've ever said, "Oooh, look at
the pretty lights...."
· You've ever ordered another drink while wondering if you have
a drinking problem.
· And the biggest indicator of all--if you've ever set your hand
on fire while blowing out a match, you may indeed be a heavy drinker.

If you enjoyed the humor, please show your appreciation by visiting my website for info on what is as close to a natural health miracle as I have ever seen. http://www.mymangosteen.com/steveno

When fiction and reality meet

2005-04-06T23:12:00.000-07:00

I have recently been reflecting that often in my fiction I include vignettes based on fact from either my own life or the life of another. The information may not be portrayed exactly as it happened in the real persons' life, but may be loosely based about it. It becomes a record of personal experience to some degree, whether ones' own or that of an acquaintance. For the reader, as well as for the writer, it adds a deeper dimension of life to the story because there is some realism and actual fact involved. These are things that could possibly happen to a reader because they may have already happened to the author or a friend.

At present, my third son is writing an assigned story with the instructions that it be a fiction tale based around some actual historical event. He has chosen to write from the viewpoint of someone experiencing the original Woodstock concert of 1969, an event that took place when I was just a year younger than he is now. I found this to be fascinating for several reasons, not the least of which were the discoveries that he has a natural writing ability and that he does his research to perfection if he is able. He asked such questions as, "Was it called a VW micro-bus or mini-bus?" The truth was that I could not recall for sure which it was, but the fact that he asked and cared enough to be accurate about this and several other details impressed me and made me proud of him. I complimented him on his writing abilities (he knows how to draw a reader in immediately with realistic detail), whereupon he told me he wasn't sure he would want to do this very often--didn't really enjoy it that much--and he dashed any vision I had of him becoming a young accomplished writer. Just some of the joys and challenges of parenthood, I guess. Nevertheless, I am anxious to see the end result of his labors and to congratulate him on his efforts.

I am impressed that it is supremely important to write from personal experience to some great degree, because it will generate a unique subliminal appeal that will draw the reader into your tale in a way that total fiction will not. You will write with more detail, and more convincingly, than you would by generating pure fiction alone. You will bring your words to life more fully and paint more powerful pictures in deeper hues in the minds of your readers. Never--I repeat, NEVER be afraid to share personal experiences in your stories. Never be afraid to let down your guard and be vulnerable for the time it takes to record your story into the fiction you write. Only you will know. You will be glad you did and so will your audience.

Why Romance Novels?

2005-03-28T15:19:00.001-08:00

This info from the suite101.com site impressed me and I felt to pass it on to you.

Why concentrate on the Romance Novel?
The romance industry is HUGE, generating $1.5 billion in sales in 2001 and accounting for 54.5% of all popular fiction sold. That’s more than Mystery/Suspense, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Westerns, and male action novels combined! And, the romance genre can and do include all of those other elements. The love element is the universality in any story. Regardless of time, place, social customs, economic conditions, politics, wars, crusades, etc, there exists the relationship between men and women. As a regular reader of romance, you’re off to a good start. If you’re looking to break into print, the romance genre is for you, as most first time writers are published in genre fiction. If you’re writing in another genre, this course will help you with the craft of writing, enabling you to incorporate romance sub-plots.

Great article on Falling in Love

2005-03-28T14:26:00.000-08:00

Suzanne James has posted a great article on Falling in Love, part of her series on How To Write a Romance Novel. Definitely worth a read.

How May I Help You?

2005-03-20T21:44:00.000-08:00

I have been lately looking back over my life and realized that my talents in editing and proofreading, as well as ideaphoria (rapid generation of varied ideas) have not been used to their full potential. I should have long ago taken a hint from those who remarked that they wished they had my talents for these things and my eye for detail. Lest you think I am bragging, I realize that we all have talents that others may wish for. I admire those who can play piano with such passion, those who are true scholars of the Constitution (and those who are much better at keeping their heads down and their mouths shut at critical times than I often am).

As a result of some encouragement, I am now offering to hire out my abilities to any interested parties. These services will include ghostwriting, copywriting, editing, proofreading, consultation regarding your ideas, lyric composition and any other thing you may want to challenge me with. Of course, I will still be continuing to write at this site and offer information links that will be instructional to all, but this offer will allow me to work with you on a personal, one-to-one basis. Feel free to contact me at anovelapproach@writeme.com. If we can come to an agreement regarding your present project, I will then give you a direct phone line to reach me. Let's make this a win/win situation, shall we?

Sage Advice

2005-03-20T21:36:00.000-08:00

After the Sale Three resolutions that may help you.

Query Writing Mistakes to Avoid

2005-03-20T21:34:00.000-08:00

Query Writing Mistakes to Avoid So you are ready to send off a letter of inquiry to a publisher--you may want to do a rewrite first.

Bringing Your Characters To Life

2005-03-09T14:52:00.000-08:00

Just as a two-dimensional world would be very flat and confusing, so is a storybook character that is less than three-dimensional. The question to be answered is how to make a character stand out as different from all the others in your story. I have heard some writers say, 'I can write a plot and tell a good story, but I am no good at dialogue'. I have heard others complain that they have trouble coming up with characters that are interesting. There is a lot to finding a good character for your story and you should not feel bad that you struggle a bit. I choose to use the word 'finding' a character, because I feel that if we are ready for it, a character will suggest himself to us and when he is clearly defined as to who he is, the dialogue will also come more naturally.

Let's begin by asking what makes your mother different from your aunt Martha (feel free to substitute another name). Or what sets your uncle apart from your grandfather? The number of differences can be staggering when you begin to list them. You may genuinely be surprised by it as you attempt the task. We tend to trust our senses and just 'take it in', recognizing that this is Mom and that is Great Aunt Tilly, but let's be more discriminating this time. (None of your relatives may fit the descriptions below, but traits like these can keep life interesting and fun!)

Start with physical features. Who is taller? Who is heavier? What color is their hair? Do they HAVE hair? What is the eye color? Is the nose short or long, wide or thin, chiseled or crooked? What is the general build--like a weight lifter? A bicyclist? A dock worker? A pencil pusher? A chef (there are some thin ones, but I wouldn't trust them)?

What does the voice sound like? Music? Breaking glass? Thin or rich? Similar to someone famous? What is the general mood of that person? Is he or she usually good-humored, sulking, flamboyant, shy and retiring? What are the mannerisms--are they confident, putting on airs, nervous, paranoid? Your relatives may not be like this, but your characters could be quite easily. What is the manner of dress? Is the individual fastidious or sloppy? Is the hair combed perfectly or just adequately? Maybe not at all--looking like it was 'combed with a mixmaster' or 'looking like an unmade bed'? I have looked in the mirror some mornings and the first thing that comes to mind is "The Wreck Of The Hesperus". Does your character smell of wine, of perfume, soap or just smell? All the senses can be used and observed to describe these beings. Only if it adds to the story, though.

Some of a persons' features may not show on the surface very easily. Is this person jealous by nature? Vengeful? Shy? Maybe a bit insane? A gossip? A lot of things make a person more interesting to a story. I have said before, but it bears repeating, that even identical twins will have some differences that makes them unique and sets them apart from one another. Perhaps one is more talkative, more studious, more gregarious and outgoing. Maybe one hates tomatoes and the other adores them. "Find" the differences that keep these people real and interesting. Look to others to get inspiration. Here is an exercise for you. Go to the mall or out on the street and sit and watch people (don't make them nervous or you could end up being questioned downtown). Take notes (also carefully). Imagine what kind of person this is--does he look like a spy? Is she a fashion designer or a model? Has he just come from strangling his boss? (Did he at least want to? Just curious...). Use your imagination, so that your readers can also use theirs. There is nothing worse than boring a reader by not giving them a clue as to who you are talking about. You can give too much and bore them, too, but it is a balancing act to find the right amount of information that will set a fire in the readers' imagination--that will let them connect with the 'movie' you intend for them to watch in their own minds. After all, you cannot force a story upon anyone--you must lead them into it and they must come of their own accord, getting caught up in it until they don't want to leave and suddenly it is an hour past their bedtime and... and... see what I mean about getting caught up in it? In a way, you need to 'see' the movie first in your own mind, before you can ever hope to have your reader captivated by it.

Is your character a good person, a villain (or villainess), a saint, a sinner, humble, arrogant, abusive, psychotic? What makes this one unique? Do they speak with an accent, a drawl, a lisp or do they stutter? Are they a genius or an idiot savant, mentally unstable or impaired? Is this one the underdog or the top dog? A schemer and conniver or without guile?

You may by now be saying to yourself that all I have done is make your choices more difficult by adding more variables, but it is the variables that make up life. A homogenous world with bland creatures makes no life you would want to live, nor any story you would want to read. Viva la' difference!

Having your name up in lights....

2005-03-02T22:54:00.000-08:00

Can you imagine having your name up in lights? Or to be recognized by your peers for your work? I have just had the honor of being the recipient of that very feeling and for that very reason. I have been paid the wonderful compliment of having three of my articles posted this month at latterdayauthors.com, a site where fellow authors share and learn from one another. I owe a great debt of gratitude to authors Kerry Lynn Blair, David Woolley and Patricia Wiles for this opportunity and honor. I do hereby publicly thank them, one and all, for the privilege--thank you all.

On Being Evil--Without Becoming a Villain

2005-03-01T18:41:00.000-08:00

The actual title should be something more like How to Write a Villain Into Your Story Without Becoming One in the Process. Writing is often a balancing act. You must tell enough to keep the reader interested without giving away the plot line too soon. Your characters must be touchable, human and believable. At times they must seem almost superhuman or super evil, while remaining believable. That is where the tight rope walking comes into play.

What makes a good villain? (Now there is an oxymoron, if ever there was one!) What makes a villain memorable to a reader? What would make a person want to continue reading? Often the only incentive to read on may be that the reader has a sense of justice that makes him or her want a valid punishment for the trouble-maker in the story. Not that your other characters can be lackluster, but the villain, if portrayed effectively, can be a huge part of what carries the story. Tension and opposition are a part of life and add to the thrill of a good read.

While I was writing Shining Armor (read five chapters here), the character of Ted Randall seemed to take a route all his own. He came to life in such a way that he began to "tell" me who and what he was and I wrote it down as I "watched" the play unfold. Ted was not just a jealous boyfriend. He was not just an abusive, spoiled child in a mans' body. He was the very embodiment of evil--unpredictable to the extreme, mentally unstable and capable of doing great harm while taking deep pleasure in the act. His persistence was absolutely frightening in scope, but almost admirable, in a strange sort of way. He just would not give up. Where other men would take a hint and weigh the pros and cons, Ted did not. It was all about him, all about winning, all about revenge if it came to that. He did not quit until his goal was reached--ever--and by whatever means was deemed necessary. It was this singleness of sight and his belief that he was always right that made him so formidable a threat to the safety of Ron and Denise in the story. The reader wants Ted to get his due come-uppance, without any doubt. At the same time, the reader cannot wait to see what he will do next. Ted is a fascinating character, due in great part to the fact that he is so evil. If Ted were to expire from the story too soon, the story would be anti-climactic. If he were to win totally and unquestionably, the story would be a disappointment also. Again, the balancing act. An equitable answer must be found to the dilemma.

Ted was the kind to push his weight around and bully others, something Denise Payton does not discover until she is already in a relationship with him. He is the type to be dangerously jealous, which she also determines later. He does not tolerate losing, even to a family member, as they are soon to find out. This in no way implies he is stupid, for he is very clever and insightful in his own warped way. He uses people to his own ends and says what he pleases, when he pleases. This was a point of discovery for me as a writer--how to give the impression of foul language without actually using the language that would make the book objectionable to the reader (and to the author). What I did was what many others have had to resort to--description instead of dialogue. This was followed by a stream of blue invective that shook the diner from one end to the other--or some such treatment. The reader may wonder why the invective is blue, or even what invective is, but the words seem to suggest that whatever he did was not nice and upset everyone within earshot. The implication is there and that is usually far more effective than the language itself.

Ted is not your average bully, either. He has no self-esteem problems in the normal sense of the word. If anything, he has too much self-esteem and none for his peers. He does not cower when pressure is put on him by others, though he may bide his time and wait for the appropriate opportunity to act. He sees this as a challenge to his own authority. One cannot help but wonder what miracles this man could accomplish if only he would harness this intense power for good.

Another aspect of portraying a villain is how to appropriately illustrate the violence he may do, without the description becoming too gory or objectionable to the reader. I truly believe that a major part of any authors' story has to be allowing the reader liberty to use his imagination to the maximum possible extent. An active imagination is what allows the writer to do the story in the first place. Why would not an active imagination be essential to the reader as well? It is the vital connection that the author and the audience have in common. You have no movie screen to place your cinematography on, except the readers' mind alone. You have no soundtrack that can allow the reader to hear the crush of leaves as the villain chases the woman into the dark woods. The reader supplies this and more. The reader is (and must be) an active participant in the unfolding of the tale. If you don't believe this fully and firmly, you will never get the reaction you want from your audience. The reader will always wonder where it is you are trying to go with this work. I think that is why I always had a problem with the writings of Charles Dickens. He wrote for the stage director and the manager in charge of props and costumes, but he never wrote for me. By way of comparison, Edgar Rice Burroughs fast became my favorite author at an early point in my development as a consumer of novels. He utilized all the most effective techniques, such as cliffhangers, etc. The difference between him and Dickens was that he was not so hung up on the peripheral and useless details that he forgot to tell the story and let me supply the imagination. (In all fairness to Dickens, he wrote at a time when authors were paid by the word, hence the incentive to be wordy).

I think that is about all for now. Experiment in your own way with these suggestions. You may be an author and use them firsthand, or you may be a reader and have just been made aware that this is the process that was taking place in your own reading. Either way, have fun--and good imagination to you!

On Being Different--Standing Out From the Crowd

2005-03-01T17:35:00.000-08:00

Every year there are thousands of songs written (and recorded), thousands of books written (and published) and thousands upon thousands of other things that are the same as everyone else is doing, ad infinitum. It is easy to get lost in the shuffle. But it is not impossible to get to the top and be seen.

What makes you stand out from the rest of humanity? First of all, I would ask what makes YOU different from those around you? Do your friends always say things like, "I love your sense of humor" or that you are the "level-headed" one? Who are you to your peers? Find that unique thing or two about you that makes you different. Now ask yourself how to package it and capitalize on it. A comedian can't just be funny. He or she has to find a way to stand out from the crowd of peers. A niche is needed. Jeff Foxworthy has found a niche--Redneck humor. Bill Engvall has found a niche also--Texas humor. Will Rogers was unique in his time. A lot of folks spoke about politics, but he did it differently. Groucho Marx also had a niche--he was borderline insane, but in a lovable way. Don Rickles--insulting humor, from the nicest man you would ever want to know (a natural choice in order to be different, because it was NOT him). Phyllis Diller--cheap chic--she "out-Rosanne'd" Rosanne before there ever WAS a Rosanne Barr. Moms Mabley--one of the funniest and homeliest women you ever saw and you could not help but love her. Godfrey Cambridge...made a living out of saying, "Oh, YEAH!" in his own unique way. Red Skelton--couldn't help but laugh at his own jokes, especially when they went wrong. I could go on. All unique and original. No copies here.

A niche may be nothing more than your own personal little twist that you can add to it--something that makes it uniquely yours. My oldest son was wanting to learn to play guitar and has since shown a lot of talent in songwriting. While he was trying to decide what to play in front of an audience, whether to do 'cover' tunes or not, I gave him this advice: First, Don't play any song if YOU don't like it. The audience will know if you are having fun and if you are it will be infectious--they will have fun, too. Secondly, if you choose to do a cover tune, you must approach it one of two ways--either do it EXACTLY like the original, vocals and all, or put a twist in it that makes it uniquely yours and yours alone. Because of that, he has taken a hybrid approach and thrown some bits and pieces of several ethnic styles into his own truly unique works--enough to make an audience say, "Aha!" as they discover a new twist they never knew existed in todays' music.

He is also very outgoing and gregarious, so it was a natural thing for him to become a salesman--but he does it with a twist. Instead of trying to get the biggest commissions he can by sending a customer out with the most expensive thing he can, he tries to send them out with as much as he can for their money without compromising their overall quality and buying experience. For example: "Why spend that much on a top-of-the-line stereo and still not have enough to get good speakers that will do it justice, when for the same amount you could step down one--get this excellent stereo, STILL have enough to get good speakers AND have better cables to carry the signal and make it sound as it was meant to?" Then he takes them into the listening room and proves it will sound just as good. The funny thing is this: to the customer it sounds BETTER because their deal just got sweeter. Instead of one small box in their arms when they leave, they have a full cart and a total experience they never thought they could afford when they went in. And my son has never failed to be one of the top two salesmaen within a month of being hired--at several companies! He applies his own twist and it pays off in greater numbers in the long run. People he doesn't even know come in and ask for him by name. Why? Because he treated the FIRST customer so well that they told their friends. That is advertising at its best--advertising you cannot buy. I went in with him on his day off a few times, so he could show me the latest thing he was excited about--(oh..another way he stands out--he does his homework on a product so he can educate a customer or at least build confidence that he isn't giving them a snow-job)--in the first half hour, each time, there were customers AND salesmen asking for his assistance. And he was out of uniform! Now, that speaks highly of his level of service and knowledge. Armed with this technique he was actually training salesmen within his second month at one store.

Am I proud? Sure, but the moral to the story is that when you do it right it pays off for a long time to come. Do it in your own way, but do it right. All this may sound like common sense and simply the way it was meant to be--and it is. However, it is not very common for anyone to want to do their homework so they know what they are talking about (research for your book), so they can convince a reader that they know their stuff. It is uncommon to care about customer (reader) service by making the experience as good as it can be (rewrite and polish). It is uncommon to do the little value-added things that matter (neat PDF format, good cover design--even for a downloadable copy, contact information, author bio, jacket notes, etc.) These days it seems that doing things right is like breaking the rules. You get accused of making others look bad when you do. You stand out from the crowd!

Sometimes you have to bend or even break the "rules" to get noticed. I once broke the rules in order to get a job interview. (Well, actually several times...but....) The popular wisdom says never show up at lunch time and expect to get an interview. Well, that was the only time I could show up, so I made the best of it--and made myself stand out from the crowd. I told the girl at the front desk to tell ___ that if she would drive, I would buy lunch. I had done my homework and knew the name of the HR representative ahead of time. I had never met her and didn't know if this would work or not, but I had nothing to lose. The girl at the front desk looked puzzled for a moment and then went to the back and did as I suggested, assuming I knew the woman in question. Did I get an interview? Yes, for 45 minutes--during her lunch! She had a sack lunch, but she was curious as to who would be inviting her out to buy a lunch for her. The truth is that I was nearly broke, but I could have bought her lunch if I did without my own, which I was willing to do. Now, I did not get a job from it, as there were none then available, but I got in where the conventional wisdom said I could not. I did the "impossible".

Another time when I wanted to get through on the phone directly to someone who was "impossible" to reach without an appointment, my wife said, "give me the phone". She then proceeded to pull off the most simple and brilliant stunt I had ever seen. She rang the number and when the personal secretary/screener answered, my wife said, "Personal call for ____" and then waited quietly. Again, the several second pause. Again, the assumption that the caller knew the intended recipient. But this time, the secretary also assumed my wife was either an operator or another personal secretary. She would have felt foolish asking what the call was in reference to, after being told it was a personal call. She would have felt silly asking if my wife were a secretary or an operator. So, she just hesitated long enough to know there was no graceful way for her to do her assigned job and then she patched the call through like a good secretary should. Brilliant! We found a way to stand out. Call it guerilla marketing.

JK. Rowling has found her niche in writing about magic and a world that exists alongside ours, where nothing is without its surprises. The Harry Potter books are wildly popular and are spawning a series of movies (and making 'tonnes' of money for Rowling, who doesn't really have a middle initial, but don't tell her I told you). Lemony Snicket (no, I did not make that up, though it is not his real name) has found a niche in writing a series of books called A Series of Unfortunate Events, now a movie. Stan Lee was a noted comic book author and has gone on to become popular fodder lately for the movie market as well. Spiderman, the X-Men, Captain America and others attest to that. Personally, I feel my first novel would make an extremely exciting movie and I intend to work in that direction.

You must do something with your writing that makes you unique in the world of writers. You may be covering the same old subject as others have, but find a way to do it differently, through the back door or a window, so to speak. What do you know or what do you do differently that will make your writing stand out? Do you have an area of expertise that will do the trick? There are many books by Michael Crichton that are unique to his background in the chosen subject matter. W.E.B. Griffin, Tom Clancy and others have found their niches in military and espionage books. Douglas Adams has found his in the sci-fi humor field--now there is a twist! The Hitchhikers' Guide to the Galaxy is now a movie. Who would have thought?

A recent acquaintance, Melanie Hurd Goldmund, is writing a book she calls an LDS space opera. Being a Mormon, I knew what LDS was, but the space opera bit threw me and I begged an explanation. What she described was a very ambitious sci-fi project with a real twist to it--something that would definitely make her stand out from the crowd. I am not at liberty to divulge that Top Secret information at this time--she would have to kill me if I did--but suffice it to say that I am impressed and can't wait to see the manuscript when she is ready for a proof-reader. "Oh,...Pick me! Pick me!" (Waves arms furiously).

So, what is your niche? What is the twist you could add? In the sixties a lot of bands would pick a name by some very unorthodox methods. They might throw slips of paper into a hat and choose two or three and see if they went together--which actually meant to them that they should do anything BUT go together--which made it more cool and it was definitely different. That is how we ended up with band names like Bubble Puppy, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Ultimate Spinach, Moby Grape, Glass Harp and scores of other names of that ilk. Others would make a chart or a wheel-like device that would rotate in separate rings and match (or mis-match) words. Very creative, really. What will you do to find the twist you need? Maybe you like crafts and also want to write a book about white-water rafting. (Could a woman knit her own raft? Hey, it's your story--I'm just asking!) Branch out and don't be afraid to look at the world differently. Through a childs' eyes, through a bugs' eyes, through...wait, this is YOUR assignment. Get busy, be creative and have fun!

GREAT self-publish FOR FREE info!

2005-02-28T23:07:00.000-08:00

lulu.com This is a great site I ran across. You can actually make money this way, it appears--even in small numbers of sales. Worth a long look and free to join.

See also Power Posters' blog

Another Great Press Release link

2005-02-25T00:55:00.000-08:00

One I neglected to include. Sorry. This is VERY good information.
More Great Press Release Info

Good PR (not Public Relations, but Press Release) Info Links

2005-02-24T20:42:00.000-08:00

If you want to promote yourself, you might have to do a press release. Basically this is a sales letter (you have to sell yourself and your product--your story, your article, your song or what have you). You are sending it to someone who can give you the publicity you want and in return you must give them something they want--an interesting article or story for their own readers. This is the classic "you-scratch-my-back-and-I'll-scratch-yours" scenario. It is a trade, in essence. You make the newspaper, the magazine, the weblog, the radio or TV station look good to their readers, listeners, or viewers. They, in turn, make you look good to the same audience. Here are a few links you may want to see on the subject. I ALWAYS suggest doing further searches yourself--and if you find something really great, share it by posting a comment here, okay?
PR Hints
PR Blunders

How Many Rewrites Is Enough?

2005-02-23T22:29:00.000-08:00

Hmmmm,......you tell me. Read and decide. My first novel has been two official rewrites so far and 4 or more strong tweaks after that. And still in testing phase at this time. They say you are truly done when you can't stand to look at it anymore.

Thanks to Kerry Lynn Blair

2005-02-17T12:00:00.000-08:00

A special thanks goes out to Kerry Lynn Blair, author of This Just In and five other published novels. (I hear another is about to go to the publisher even as I post--best wishes, Kerry). Anyway, the reason I wish to thank her is that noted and respected author Kerry Lynn Blair has done me the kindness of offering to read and comment on my first novel, Shining Armor-Book One. She has also made some very flattering comments (Reader Comments) regarding my methods of building a following. I am very gratified to have her take time from her busy schedule to assess my work. Thank you sincerely, Kerry. I guess this is just one of many reasons you are so adored by your fans! (P.S. to readers: I may also get a sneak peek of her new one--if she can convince the publisher to allow it--is there an emoticon for "keep-your-fingers-crossed"? I look forward to writing a review here in the near future).

CLICK HERE for Reader comments...thank you!

2005-02-17T03:19:00.000-08:00

get-free-publicity.com

2005-02-14T21:55:00.000-08:00

www.get-free-publicity.com

I highly recommend you look into this offering. Yes, it will cost a bit, but it is like hiring your own expert to help you promote yourself or your product. The time and effort saved will be tremendous. Listen to the recorded testimonials and decide for yourself if doing it as the experts would do is worth your while.

Take a close look here....

2005-02-12T12:03:00.000-08:00

http://www.ult-media.com/selfpublishing.htm I am very impressed that this may be worth the nominal price and I intend to check into it myself to continue my own personal education and eventual business.

Another recommendation

2005-02-12T11:56:00.000-08:00

http://www.ult-media.com/writingcontests.htm The judges and professionals advice section down the page is excellent and you should copy and paste it for study every now and then. Do the same with the previous recommended site, also.

Recommended site

2005-02-12T11:46:00.000-08:00

I heartily recommend you check out this site, with some excellent ideas for storyline and character improvement. http://www.writing-world.com/contests/articles/judge.shtml

Shining Armor--reader comments and summary

2005-02-04T18:44:00.003-08:00

Reader's Comments:

"Steve, I finished your book this weekend. I loved it. I think you've found your niche in life. I look forward to reading the rest of them. The book was engaging and I had a hard time putting it down. Loved the characters and action. Thanks for letting me read it."
Marci St. Germain

"...your book sounds intriguing. I already admire your creativity and innovative way of building a following."
"I predict great things from you, Steve. From what I've seen thus far, you are a savvy, talented guy who's going right to the top."
"... I really like your book!"
"...you have a great voice and a great story. Don't change any of the "big" things -- including your name. It's about time the...market knows a man can write romance with the best of them."
Kerry Lynn Blair--author of This Just In and 6 other novels

"... I really enjoyed the story, it was great and really pulled me in."
Christine Jensen

“I’ve been enjoying it, which really surprised me, being this particular genre. I hadn't expected to like it so much.”
Sarge McClintock

"Very romantic, Steve. I love the part about the dreams in the field of wildflowers. I have read the book twice and I want more. I knew you could do it."
Suzette ___

"wow, Wow, WOW!!! I was hooked the moment I started reading until the end of the 5th chapter. I can't wait to read the rest of the book. "...yes, you did leave me hanging there wanting more. Although I'm not a real fan of...romance novels...yours seemed more real, totally believable,...had more substance to it than most of the romance novels that I've read. The book flowed so well. I felt as though I was right there; no awkward spots. I'm impressed! Perhaps you will change my attitude toward romance novels."
Katrina Wildeboer

"…it could take me a little while to get through the story. But then again, if I get as captured as I was during the first 5 chapters, it may not take so long.
"I COULDN'T PUT IT DOWN. I love it, but it was really unfair to give me only the first five chapters to read,...I want more, I want to know what happens.
"I think it will be a wonderful book. You have a great way of capturing the reader very quickly. The characters seem so real, it's like watching their lives unfold.
"Chapters 1 through 5 were so captivating. I wanted to keep reading to see what was going to happen next. If you remember, I couldn't wait for you to send me the rest of the story. ...I was so captivated from the first page. The suspense had my heart racing as I was trying to read faster hoping Denise would get further ahead and away from Ted. I liked that Denise had inner strength, courage to endure and courage to outwit Ted, and at the same time was vulnerable.
"I hope your book does well and will be anxious to see it in print."
Roxane Raley

"Through your writing, you've managed to make me feel like I AM Jenna, which I feel is the mark of a great writer. I'm beyond the point where I just want to read more. I'm at the point where I NEED to know where this goes.” “Deep and thought-provoking…”
Jenn Zigan

"I read 10 chapters today and have thoroughly enjoyed the book…the insights that the characters have and the way that they interface with each other. This is my kind of book."
Teri Rodeman

“This is the way romance was meant to be.”
Karen O.

"Gotta say WOW. Just got home and read a few chapters – I’ll tell ya, it sure does keep your interest. I know—honest. Well, I have to say I’m very impressed. Can’t wait to get to the rest of it. I’m very excited…keep ’em coming…fantastic job--and when do I get the chance to buy the first copy?"
Barb ___

"Draws you right in. More like watching a movie than reading a book."
Mary Harrison

“Finally…a romance/adventure...with an ordinary couple in extraordinary circumstances. A hero with frailties and self-doubt, a heroine with unexpected inner strength…."
Linda R.

"I am enjoying the story so far. I wish you the best of luck getting it published."
Mindi Battraw

Summary:

If you are looking for a Fabio-type hero, you will not find him here. What you will find is a man who has been hurt and needs healing with the love that only one woman can give him. And she, in turn, needs this man like she has needed no other in her life, for she suspects fate has drawn them together for a purpose—both dizzyingly wonderful and truly frightening. (The author)

Summary: Ronald Jameson is an ordinary man: unassuming and probably not noteworthy to the majority of those he passes on the street every day. He minds his own business and keeps to himself socially, as well. Socially? The truth is that he has no social life. Some events in his past have caused him great pain and there seems little chance they will ever be rectified in his lifetime—that is, until he meets Denise Payton, a marvelous woman he rescues from a raving madman she desires to leave behind as quickly as possible.

Denise has a problem that is much more serious than anything she has ever dealt with before—one that could cost her very life. In fact, it could also cost her newfound love interest his life. The problem is Ted Randall; an ex-boyfriend, mentally and emotionally unstable, who thinks the world revolves around his needs and him alone. Ted is true evil in the flesh and never lets anyone forget it for a moment.

Before their ordeal is over, Ron and Denise will have to face the trials of nature in a mountainous region, their own weaknesses and the worst that their unrelenting and very formidable antagonist can throw at them. Facing these challenges may bring them closer together—or it may tear them apart forever. Before they can answer that, they must first survive.

“It was an amazing experience to write this series. It seemed to literally take on a life of its own at one point and I found myself saying, ‘I can’t wait to see what happens next.”—Steven O’Dell

Comments regarding the vignettes and short stories:

RE: The Guitar
I have to tell you - that short story is fabulous. You are an incredible writer - and I don't say that lightly, because I'm highly critical. Reading that - it was so descriptive that I didn't even realize I wasn't "reading" anymore, but it felt like I was *there*. ...I was really impressed.

…it was really good. I don't usually give a lot of feedback, but that was very moving, so I just had to say something.

I found it to be absolutely fantastic. A must-read, people! This guy is good!
--Jenn Z.

Your vignette is wonderful. Truly mesmerizing. I hope you publish
it, so other readers may enjoy it as much as I did.
--Lyn D. Nielsen, author of Place of Sage

Very expressive. ...I was extremely moved by it...
--Mary H.

RE: The Guitar:
...really talented...That is just beautiful. The imagery is very vivid and potent and speaks of a perfect moment.

RE: The Guitar:
Thank you for reposting this and reminding me of it. The first time I read it, it gave me goosebumps, and it has done so today. It is just so visually real and carries you off so you see what she is seeing and feel what she is feeling. Wonderful work.

RE: Relative Size:
This is such a stunning insight into what it is to be a child and discover things for the first time. The mind of a child is so open to new experiences and, sadly, it is something that you lose as you get older. Beautiful vignette. Just stunning.

RE: All In How You See It:
This is absolutely wonderful. It is so sad and bittersweet. It makes me want to take the two of them and shake them... Him - to make him communicate his thoughts with his wife and her - to make her have trust in her husband. Beautifully written.
--Minx—Latvia

I so LOVED the imagery in The Guitar…So many vivid descriptions
to bring to mind what an instrument of beauty a guitar is. You do have a way with words; a master with words.
--Teri Rodeman

Very powerful imagery. The entire piece definitely gives the phrase "the touch of the master's hand" a whole new meaning.
--Melanie Goldmund

RE: The Guitar
Beautifully written, now write the rest of the novel (smile)
--Judith Tramayne, author of Conspiracy