The Druid Dazzles with Daring-do

By Green Embers

By Green Embers

A: What exactly are you doing daringly that dazzles so much, D?

D: Wouldn’t you like to know.

A: Well, that was the point of asking the question.

D: . . .

A: I mean, you have something back up all that hype, right? Or you just a flimflam man?

D: Flimflam man? Are you calling me a sham?

A: With yams.

D: You are ridiculous.

A: Yes, I am. And see, I have proof, right here. In writing. Back it up, D!

D: Could I just get on with the tale-telling?

A: Certainly, my dazzling drivel-meister.

D: There is something wrong with you.

Celebrate it

D: John W. Howell, he of Fiction Favorites fame, has been published in The Paperbook Collective. Congratulations, John! Hey, A – do you think he’ll forgive me for mistaking him for that other guy?

A: That other guy?

D: Yeah, you know, that other John guy – John Milton?

A: Maybe if you ask real nice and offer to do a real interview with him, he’ll consider it.

Promote it

D: The Literary Syndicate, your resource for all things helpful in our literary world, has established a “Features” section on his blog. Want to showcase your work – look no further, as Features are Wanted!

A: And check out Papi’s first feature, Angie Skelhorn.

D: I have it on great authority – if one considers A’s assertion a fact (and I’m not sure I do, as she once insisted that fuzzy socks were a requirement for breathing. Her authority on anything has been mighty suspect after that), it can be more than a little nerve-wracking for writers to go beyond the borders of their heads, but Twitter at least allows one to do it while still in your bathrobe–

A: And fuzzy socks.

D: (Sigh) Legends of Windemere scribe, Charles Yallowitz offers up these tips to de-beak the Twitter-beast and instead, utilize the tool as an effective weapon in your promotional armory. Enjoy.

A: With fuzzy socks.

D: Seriously?

A: It’s cold.

D: Moving on.

A: Kill joy. You don’t know what you’re missing. And neither do you, out there in the blogosphere, if you haven’t, check out Green Embers. Green is this week’s Blogger of the Week at Readful Things, and frankly, there is no one more deserving.

Read it

D: there are more than a few talented wordsmiths here on the blogosphere – talented and prolific. One is Jessica Bell, who writes at the behest of Helena Hann-Basquiat. Check out the latest installment of the Bayou Bonhomme serial, In the Shadows.

A: And once you’ve shaken off the shivers and anticipation, check out Charles Yallowitz’s poem, Yesterday, She Was, at the Community Storyboard. It is beautiful and touching.

D: In other words, break out the hanky.

A: Finally, Sue Vincent has some great news – you can download The Initiate, adventures in sacred chromatography, to celebrate the upcoming launch of her books, The Living One and The Osiriad. Find out more on her blog, Daily Echo.

Debate it

A: Helena Hann-Basquiat has a thought-provoking and entertaining piece at the Outlier Collective, Euthanasia is Sexy

D: Did you just use the words Euthanasia and entertaining in the same sentence?

A: Yep. And don’t just think it’s for real people, D. . . characters can—

D: Don’t say it, A. Don’t even think it.

A: Then you know what you have to do, don’t you?

D: Take over the world and ensure that you are slave to my power for all time.

A: . . . .

D: Yep, thought so.

Write it

A: Only 14 days until NaNoWriMo!

D: I think there should be care and feeding tips for owners of writers embarking on the NaNoWriMo gauntlet.

A: Really? Aside from the pejorative terminology, that almost sounds like you care, D.

D: You think I want you going off the rails? I’m all for you trying to write series 2 in 30 days, but I’m afraid if you aren’t kept well, part of it might happen from a hermit cave or worse, a jail cell.

A: . . . your concern is touching. I think.

D: Don’t say I never did anything for you, A.

A: Never would I ever, D. . . .(Insanity is doing something, right?)

D: (You bet your aunt fanny it is.)

A: (eye roll.) Speaking of writing (and not from a jail cell or otherwise) Catherine Ryan Howard, from Catherine Caffeinated, asks, How Much Time Do You Need to Write?

D: And while you’re writing, here are some words to avoid like the plague

A: Do cliché’s count?

D: Maybe…

A: You’re hopeless.

D: Thank you. Keep in mind this list doesn’t apply to all but it is a helpful guide.

Publish it

A: Every once in a while, we do aim to educate.

D: Every once in a while? A! I educate all the time.

A: Pray tell…

D: I’m a time travelling Druid. My very being is educational.

A: The scary thing is, you believe that. But since you don’t know anything about the publishing industry (and I know precious little myself), check out this 2-part series from Critical Margins:

D: If you like your publishing tips a little on the funny side, check out Fiction Favorites and 1WriteWay’s simu-published “Top 10 Things Not To Do When Trying To Get Published.”

Prompt it

D: that doesn’t make sense, A.

A: People can infer, D. I’m pretty confident that the intelligence level around here is capable of that. . . well, maybe not you.

D: I will fong you.

A: . . . .

D: You aren’t the only one who can make tv and movie references, woman.

A: Fine. Fong away. Meanwhile, at the Community Storyboard, the prompt of the week is Yesterday. Check out the offerings, including mine, and submit your own!

D: And The Queen Creative’s Prompts for the Promptless this week is Kintsukuroi. A wrote a lovely piece here.

A: You thought it was lovely?

D: Of course I did. You thanked me at the end. I can hold that over your head for the rest of your days. It’s beautiful.

A: I will fong you!

D: And with that, we wish you good night, ladies and gentlemen – thank you for catching up with us here at the D/A Dialogues.

Broken

Courtesy Google Images

Courtesy Google Images

I am a collector of broken things. Usually I’m the one who did the breaking – butterfingers is a kind term for what happens when breakable objects come within reach of my hands. And broken things linger; I have a spot for them – a home – to wait until I get around to applying the glue that will make them whole again. It can take years before that happens, however. Once broken, it takes me a long time to find edges that match and patterns that connect. The piece waits to tell its story.

This is the story of a book I broke.

I didn’t know I was doing it at the time. In fact, I thought I was fixing it. I thought that the character that had been handed to me would make the book. I thought he would save it.

I wasn’t fond of him, that Druid interloper, but as his story spun itself out in my head, I knew he belonged. It was his story, just as much as it was mine – just as much as it was the story of the characters that populated it long before he made his appearance.

So I broke it – even as I kept writing the second and then the third book in the series, I was working with a mutilated thing, a limping shadow. It had so much potential, but I couldn’t find it. He felt out of place, as though he hadn’t had time to come to love the other characters as I did. And they – well, they resented him almost as much as I did. His edges and patterns did not match. I was afraid they never would.

I relegated it to a dusty corner of my mind, to wait with all the other broken things, until I could see it fully. It took a decade.

When the Druid stepped out of that corner, fully himself, I realized the book could be whole again. I sat down right away and started typing. I called it a revision at first, but it became obvious, as I wrote in my 500-word-a-day chunks, that it was more than that. I was putting the story back together, the way it was supposed to be told.

The edges – where the Druid started and the story he adopted ended – were mended. The patterns – the weave of his life as it affected the clan who made him – burned brightly. Instead of a jumble of pieces, it became a tapestry. Each thread was lovely but the tale they told left me breathless. Good or not – quality fiction or not – that it gave itself to me, and waited for me to fix it, means a great deal to me.

The story that was broken is now whole – and I love it. I even admire, just a little, the Druid who trusted me enough to wait until I was ready. Thanks, D.

This was for Prompts for the Promptless at Queen Creative: Kintsukuroi is a Japanese noun meaning “to repair with gold”; the art of repairing pottery with gold or silver lacquer and understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken.

Check out these other “Broken” prompts: