Is It More Than Hype?

It's been awhile since I created a post. There have been a myriad of reasons. Not the least of which was a trip to Italy. I'm really blessed to have been able to afford such a trip, even if the Pope was too busy to grant me an audience. I guess I didn't have enough royal blood.


While I was gone, the academic fund-raisers were hard at work filling my inbox. The not-so-subtle message was that I should feel privileged to have attended the colleges that I did. Let's be clear, I didn't transfer around. My two degrees are from two colleges that are housed and exist within one land-grant university. And, my time was interrupted by a tour of duty for Uncle Sam. In fact, it was the GI bill, since modified, that allowed my return to school.


If my uneducated brain and psyche were elevated, isn't that what I paid for? Didn't the education process teach me to understand the world, especially salesmanship? No salesperson touts the negative or the obvious, just the benefits to achieve a sale.


I earned (a key point) a degree in journalism. So, if I now write novels, (It's a rhetorical question as all blog readers know.) that's within the realm of my education that I paid hard-earned dollars for. Should I be required to pay again? Those terms aren't used by the college solicitors. They use terms like donations or "giving back." If I bought a car two years ago and paid a fair price, should I now this year be required to pay more? Is education any different?


Now, if the educational institution had since my graduation given me additional enhancements, I would indeed be a slacker if I ignored the fair value of what I'd received. But that's not the case. The college hasn't shelved my novels in their library. They haven't invited me to speak to demonstrate that they've given me a special skill above and beyond tuition paid. They have neither purchased nor promoted the fruits of my paid-for skills. All correspondence has not been "how are you doing, we worry about you," but here's an envelope for your check, payable to us.


This year represents the 40th year since my graduation. What did the school do? They said, send us money and you can attend a reunion in your honor. Well, if I'm a guest to be feted, do I need to buy an admission ticket? If I was allowed to attend without paying, wouldn't the college be compensated by my spreading of good will? I guess they didn't wish to take the chance. It may say something about how revered they held my school attendance.


Reality is not sour grapes. Reality is what it is.  

Survival or Getting Through First Paragraphs

Review excerpt from Survival by A.M. Hargrove (Editor Sarajoy Porter) available on Smashwords.com.

Maddie slowly cracked opened (sic) her eyes to see the brilliance of the morning peeking through her tent. Squinting, she poked her nose out of her sleeping bag to test the temperature, and just as she imagined, the frost in the air nipped at her. She knew she would have to get up soon to use the facilities, if you could call the outhouse that, and also to make breakfast as well as break down (sic) her campsite.

(Three line paragraph excised. Think Christmas Day.)

She quickly unzipped her toasty sleeping bag, slipped her boots on, threw on a jacket, and unzipped the door to her tent. When she got her first glimpse of the morning, her jaw hit the ground, and she sucked in her breath. She was standing in a winter wonderland, complete with a three inch blanket of snow.

(Later....)

Cat was full of life. There was just no other way to describe her. From the first moment I met her. I knew we'd be BFF's-and I mean forever.  She was my soul sister. AND we were so much alike it was uncanny. Like me, she was constantly in a rush, and she always looked like she had just survived a hurricane. When Catherine made up her mind about something, well, that was it. She was as hardheaded as a cinder block, again, like me, in that regard - and funny! OMG, that girl could make me laugh until my sides were killing me.

She was born and raised in Asheville, North Carolina, so it was easy to find one thing we both loved. That was, no surprise, hiking. She had spent over the summer hiking the Appalachian Trail and was hooked.

Moments later, two adults appeared, which I correctly assumed were her parents. We quickly introduced ourselves and then the question I had so been dreading was popped.

"So Maddie, are your parents here?"

I felt my head swin a bit as I was thrust into another disturbing flashback. (End of quote.)

No star rating expressed since this reader stumbled with the distractions presented by the entrance into the novel's world. It's billed as a young adult paranormal, although the line of teendom and older becomes blurred by the main characters being in college. A male character, named "Henry," could be because the credits list a spouse as a Henry or it's a veiled reference to the character Henry in The Time Traveler's Wife.

Let me put forth my reaction to the excerpts presented, in no way highlighted as representative of the entire novel, just that the words arrived on early pages.

1. The words "cracked opened" in the first line must be a typo. The two words "break down" caused a reading hiccup. Perhaps the term should be "breaking down" or "strike," but, since these words apply primarily to the tent alone, the greater action may be to "pack up" the campsite.
2. Then there is the participle "Squinting." Participles are words ending in "ing" or "ed." They are to describe the subject of the conventional sentence. Does "squinting" describe the nose? Of course not.
3. Maddie supposedly sees the brilliance of the morning peeking through her tent. A paragraph later says, "When she got her first glimpse of the morning..." How can that be? If she had seen the peeking sun brilliance, she couldn't be first glimpse awe-struck when stepping outside her tent minutes later.
4. As one reads, one cannot help but be bombarded by the constant use of "to be" verbs. These inert verbs require the action to be exhumed and enlivened by vigorous verbs. Count the number of times the "to be" past tense verb "was" presents itself in the latter portion of the excerpt.  The inert verbs highlight the "telling" of a story, not its "showing." Review clauses such as "full of life," "were so much alike," and "like she had just survived a hurricane". What specifics are told? Are they cliches, overused and/or meaningless?
5. Metaphors can be confusing. Consider the use of the words "cinder block" connected to "hardheaded." A normal construction cinder block has a hollow core. Does the author wish to convery the character is an "airhead" or merely "stubborn." The traits could be polar opposites.
6. In the latter part of the excerpt, would  the two words "Moments later" be enough to avoid a mind-jarring interruption or merely slight confusion with the time shift from the past to the present?
7. Is all believable? Would a teenage female meeting her parents introduce herself? That's what the language says when it refers to "We quickly introduced outselves."
8. This final comment brings forth the question: Where's the present inciting action that sets forth the central conflict? The introduction travels through backstory with a minimal reader grounding. Yes, this is young adult literature, but how many teenagers spend today trudging through the past. If a teenager lost a parent, do they, at seventeen, lament their seventh birthday party when Mom lit the cake candles or do they suffer losing a job interview or being late for a longed for date when the car won't run and Dad's not there to fix it? And then, there's the placement of the two incidents on the conflict scale.

Author's Note:
Author Donan Berg writes murder mysteries with strong romantic elements and his latest E-book novels are Abbey Burning Love and Baby Bones, neither of which are young adult novels. They may be purchased at http://www.dotdonbooks.com/ and through major E-book retailers. Previews of all four Donan Berg novels are presented at http://www.amazon.com/ .

The Simple Thing - A Happy Reader

It's preached ad infinitum: the simple thing, do it, live it, praise it. For a writer it's often left unsaid what the "it" is. Let's take a crack.

It's simple to write about the tried and true, chase the hot fad. However, it's usualy counterproductive. Ask the author with the wastebasket of rejection slips attached to vampire pages.

How does one not follow a trend. First, stop. Second, think. Third, experiment. An author's desk surely has large paper clips scattered about or horded in a drawer. What use can be made of them other than clipping printed draft pages together until that chapter is finalized. And, by finalize, the smart author knows a rubber band for loose pages is the better method for publisher submission than paper clips. The leftover paper clips can be bent into holiday ornament hangers, while a stray one or two can manage unruly hairstyles.

Other everyday writing aids, pre-computer definitely, can have uses not stated by the manufacturer. Liquid correction fluid becomes a common solution to scuffed shoes when that personal publishing house interview is obtained. Binder clips might be the granddaddy for multiple uses. They can be seen holding bags closed, i.e., those chips munched on at two in the morning, clipping a reminder note to the vehicle visor, keeping tubes of paste rolled up, and, of course, maintaining tidy coiffures.

So when writing and the heroine/hero needs to keep a hair strand out of those gorgeous, sexy eyes for an extended period, amaze or comfort the reader with a paper or binder clip. If the reader hasn't come across this particular usage, haven't you created a moment where the reader thinks you're a creative genius. And, if a mystery, that clip foreshadows a later more critical use, e.g., the villain who thinks it hilarious and tosses it aside leaves a damning fingerprint fragment or a DNA sample.

Other than crime clues, everyday objects can become a symbol of a character quirk, fetish, red herring or point for humor. What does sucking a paper clip say that sucking a toothpick doesn't? Was the infant death by ingested paper clips accidental, negligent or murderously intentional by a distraught parent or caregiver.

When done thinking of 101 uses for a paper clip in your romance, adventure, western, saga, and/or paranormal, experiment. Do it until you begin to read dozens of stories with fantastic paper clip uses. Then stop. It's a fad. Remember, we don't follow fads. Now take out a piece of scrap paper and, for an exercise, scribble frantically how you can use the rubber band in your writing. Don't get too attached to the actual rubber band before you for it'll be mailed off to that editor adoring your story.

  

Oh, that Christmas Jolly or was it Jelly

Twas the fifteenth of January in O' twelve, no willpower be.

No Ides would I fret, nor feet somewhere down yonder could I see.

The arm's once easy keyboard stretch now had fingertips barely touch;

The stomach plumped by Christmas berry pies, raisin pudding and such.

In upstairs closets and attic trunks I'd searched for a shirt and pants.

The only pants that circled the waist came from verbal "why, why" rants.

I'd eaten and eaten, no stop to my glorious holiday food intake folly.

Hams and potatoes, yams and jams, all entirely delicious, by golly.

A toast for the merry; glorious eggnogs, all whiskey or bourbon laced.

There was no thought to the dusty scale with the pound record I faced.

Another day I'd fast; for the next eleven months promised plenty of days.

Without holiday friends, no way could I exist, couldn't be me, no ways.

So today I cry, grunt and strain to tap keys to write this celebration lament.

Thank the bountiful cheer of Christmas, I do, good friends, family, and Lent.


May all enjoy a very Merry Christmas and the blessings of a New Year. Here's a thanks to the inspiration of Mr. Moore for this humble jumble of words. Enjoy novel A Body To Bones click here in 2012. And, The Bones Dance Foxtrot, Abbey Burning Love, Baby Bones. A preview of all are at http://www.amazon.com/ .

And, to all a good night. Oh, guess you heard that before. May the road rise to meet you. Oh, that's an upcoming celebration. Let's go back. And, to all a good night. Happy Hanukkah, Kwanza, too.

Newer Quotes Over Time

Done once before; now done again. Or is that well done. Let's hope.

Author Donan Berg click for website previously shared quotes. Now for the promised more.

Fiction is mankind's alternate face.

A riot is the exploding unheard expression of the oppressed.

A prayer can't be a wish turned inward.

Life is like a ten-speed bicycle. Most of us have gears we never use. (Charles Schultz as Charlie Brown)

Back to the quotes of Donan Berg:

Life is a dead end street with a fire escape if we look up.

Forget royalties, take free dry cleaning. (Advice to writers.)

Popularity -- a writer's smallest glory.

Popularity is the heady drink that fills the cup of vanity.

Captivating fiction is a beautiful flirt with a good heart.

If our life were a play, let's hope the plot isn't swallowed by needless drama.

And that's today's more. Come back for more quotes. The key will be in the door. (This line not a quote to the curious.)

Author Donan Berg has published four murder/mystery novels described best as entertaining mystery -- heartwarming romance. Visit here to learn more click for Donan Berg novels. Titles include A Body To Bones, The Bones Dance Foxtrot, Baby Bones, Abbey Burning Love.

Write Better with Four-Top Conflict.

By Donan Berg

Author of A Body To Bones

and The Bones Dance Foxtrot

            Conflict attracts and builds fiction readership. The concept is not a mystery, but challenges fiction writers with every story. How can authors master the task?

            Conflict as defined for writers is the clash of beliefs, values, and/or moral judgments. Conflict is not a left jab, right upper cut punch combination. Nor is it a hero defeating each opponent at every mile marker post on the interstate between journey start and finish.

            The author begins with a story hero, often called the protagonist. If he or she lives in an idealistic state with satiated desires and no worries, the hero may love it, but the reader will be bored. Life’s reality contains ups and downs; the reader expects novel conflict to surpass actuality with greater intensity and proportionality.

            In its simplest form, conflict for the hero involves one antagonist or a villain, as mystery writers will label the person or peril of nature. For illustration purposes the villain will be another human. To have the greatest conflict both the hero and villain must seek the identical goal. Both may crave the final say where there’s but one authority position. The hero desires to win the election to provide justice for residents. The villain desires to win the same election to fatten his or her bank account. A detective hero investigates to learn the killer’s identity. The villain uses every trick, lie, and false insinuation to avoid detection justifying the action as self-defense or biblical revenge.

            Hero versus villain is a straightforward back-and-forth contest. Like a tug of war, one can have the advantage, then the other, back to the first, the second resurges, and eventually the hero prevails, well most often, except in the tragedy. While this format presents an acceptable template for storytelling, the good versus evil conflict remains largely superficial without engaging character depth. The hero evokes no lasting emotional attachment in the reader’s mind.

            How can the author increase the conflict? And expand the emotional attractiveness of his or her characters. Try four-top conflict. Four-top is restaurant terminology for a table with four seats. Authors will have the hero at position one, the major villain at position two, nature’s peril or another adversary at position three, and the third adversary at position four. The potential for competing values is vertical, horizontal, and/or diagonal. The hero must not only face attacks from the major villain, but his or her weakness is exposed to positions three and four as well.

            Let’s consider a public safety mystery novel example. The detective hero must solve an accountant’s murder. The major villain must thwart the hero’s murder-solving goal so as not to jeopardize a personal real estate business scam. The major villain tries to pull political strings to have the detective’s boss reassign or not authorize the tools the detective needs. At position three is the actual killer. A winter storm traps and almost kills the hero at a desolate cabin in pursuit of a clue or the actual killer, a gun for hire. The killer becomes unhappy and threatens to expose the major villain unless he’s paid additional money. This pressure intensifies the major villain’s actions against the hero. The hero’s fourth position adversary can be a fellow detective who seeks promotion to the one departmental advancement vacancy. In acting for personal gain, the fellow detective intentionally misfiles evidence, doesn’t pass on evidence tips, and/or tells a potential witness that the witness would be better off not speaking to the hero.

            It’s easy to visualize the diagonal possibilities between the actual killer and the hero, often a simple clue detection tug of war. However, utilization of the four-top conflict model allows the major villain to complicate the perils the hero must overcome and aid the actual killer’s actions to prey upon the hero’s weaknesses. For example, unbeknownst to all others, the major villain plants a false clue that causes the hero to walk into a booby-trapped restaurant where the major villain had also induced the real killer and fellow detective to be spreading button on the same bread loaf. If the fellow detective avoids death, the fellow detective can challenge the major villain with exposure as he or she strives for personal promotional glory. The real killer may decide on revenge against the major villain.

The author’s illumination of how and why the hero acts and reacts to three, not one, adds depth to this main character. The same happens to other characters when the author shows how they are challenged or required to respond to the actions of others to attain desired goals.

Can the same four-top concept apply to subplots? Yes, for example, the home life of the hero can have tugs between a spouse, child, and mother-in-law. There are countless possibilities. Forget the mother-in-law and give the hero a serious addiction, your choice. Create the relationships between the hero and others or internally to show the hero with praiseworthy values and a personality flaw as a rounded character.

Don’t forget that the challenges to the hero’s beliefs, values, and moral judgments will change him or her in incremental stages to create a totally different personality when the story ends.

(Comments? Author Donan Berg may be contacted via e-mail at mystery@abodytobones.com.) A Body To Bones mystery novel. Latest E-book novel, Baby Bones.

Why Trekkies Come Home for Thanksgiving. It's not the turkey

This week brings the annual Thanksgiving trek for sons and daughters to the parental home. In the United States families are torn apart and harsh words linger for months if the respectful journey is not made. Of course there could be exceptions like medical or alternating years for married siblings. Not overlooked is late November storms, especially in the northern states.

Thanksgiving became important when the original colonists wished to thank God and native Americans for help in a bountiful harvest necessary to ward of disease and hunger to a dwindling encampment. Thus Thanksgiving became aptly named.

The holiday became inwardly focused unlike Christmas, which looks to religious deity, Easter, again religious, and then the other days that celebrate Presidents, national unity or individuals like sweethearts, Moms and Dads. These later ones are for personal recognition, not geared to the family unit.

Thanksgiving stands alone as the family reunion holiday. In the United States it's the societal tribute to the family unit. Even when family units multiply in structure not dominated by one man, one woman, and kids, the family as a unit remains the underlying bedrock.

Sons and daughters who plan to start and continue with their own family units adhere to the annual trek home to be infused with the annual tradition. The food can be an attraction for some, but not all. The first Thanksgiving focus overcome by a highlight on family unity.

Thus, wherever you are this Thanksgiving, may it be a Happy Thanksgiving.

Abbey Burning Love  Baby Bones available in MP3 for that drive to and from the turkey or tofu feast.

A Body To Bones Reading Guide

When reading Author Donan Berg’s A Body To Bones, consider the following:

1.  The story begins in a church confessional ten years before Chapter One. What kind of emotional tone does this establish? Does the tone, in perhaps a different context, reappear? Is it engaging, neutral or off-putting?

2.  Are there any visual descriptions that leave a physical impression, either on what just happened, what may be in store, or that cleanse the reader’s palate? As to a cleansing pause, consider James Joyce in “The Dead” where he ends one scene with the following before beginning a subsequent dramatic scene:

            “The morning was still dark. A dull yellow light brooded over

            the houses and the river; and the sky seemed to be descending.

            It was slushy underfoot; and only streaks and patches of snow

            lay on the roofs, on the parapets of the quay and on the area railings.”

3.  In all mysteries a reader should expect clues, red herrings, and suspense. Did you find any or all? Is there a pace consistent with the action?

4.  The story is told in the present tense with several point-of-view character shifts (i.e., the character whose head the reader is inside). Does either tense or point-of-view character shift accentuate or detract from the story narration? What about tense or point-of-view in gaining an understanding of the novel’s characters?

5.  Are there any symbols that are important? E.g., a dove represents peace.

6.  Sarah, the leading character, has what positive character traits, flaws? Could she represent a broad spectrum? Midnight Assassin commented on isolation of midwestern women at the turn of the 20^th century. What 1963 book contemporaneous to and mentioned in A Body To Bones has similar theme?

7.  Does the author present a theme as distinct from an action plot or subplot?

8.  Does the author inject social criticism? If so, what? How is it treated?

     (Please note there are no correct or wrong answers to any of the questions.

      No test nor penalty for ignoring these and thinking of your own.)

The above utilized for a book discussion group. A Body To Bones novel available here.

Murder by Souffle

     Drive-weary Irene Kraft leaned on the kitchen doorframe, the 2011 soufflé recipe award in her right hand definitely superfluous. A steel mallet would’ve tenderized chicken breasts the way thumping Cranberry Falls, WA, EMTs pounded the woman’s chest—and with equal life-saving result. Tugging wrinkles from a casual red pullover above blue jeans and sneakers, Irene guessed the blue-purplish grotesquely distorted face on the stretched prone body to be Ellen, the newspaper-reader-voted recipe award recipient for the greater Puget Sound area.

     Ellen, in the entry’s biographical data, touted her culinary sisterhood as a soufflé that never collapsed. Five twenty-something women, first meeting at a township chocolate tasting, fast became inseparable enjoying fluffy desserts and aromatic specialty breads. After two decades, maternity ward visits, Lamaze coach stand-ins, and now calorie counting waist watchers, they’d bonded for life.

     From the five’s 2009 soufflé cookbook cover, Irene recognized the three in the kitchen. Kerchief-wearing Ruth, slumped in a chair, dabbed a napkin to swollen eyes and morphed into irrational blubbering protoplasm. Gertrude squeezed past Irene to clasp Ruth’s hand. After the kitchen door slammed a minute ago, Thelma’s chest heaved in and out behind a monogrammed yellow apron as she leaned backward against the kitchen’s center island. Right hand yellow-tipped fingers grasped white cotton gloves.

     “What happened?” Thelma asked. “Sarah and I stepped outside for a few puffs. Warned Ellen last week thirty pounds way too much for her to lose in two months.”

     “Why? Sarah dropped forty this summer, and smokes,” Ruth muttered aloud.

     Irene scanned the huge kitchen, nothing seemed out of place. No blood drops or splatter. No plausible murder weapon discernible or visible. “She been sick?” Irene asked.

     “Not recently,” Gertrude replied. “Suddenly confused, collapsed. When she didn’t respond, I punched 9-1-1 on cell phone. Maybe five minutes ago.”

     Strutting into the kitchen, color faded quickly from Sarah’s face. A sun-tanned Gertrude dropped Ruth’s hand to rush to her strudel-eating friend. The crouching, stocky EMT dipped head to avoid Gertrude’s swinging arm. After a shrug, the EMT assisted a colleague in raising the gurney with straps belted across a still Ellen, discarded oxygen mask dangling to head cushion’s side. Gurney wheels clunked past Irene before two EMTs lifted Ellen and gurney into an awaiting ambulance. Irene noticed no lip blisters or redness nor pressure marks on distended neck veins. Thelma began to soak a dishtowel under foamy suds in the kitchen sink. “Don’t wet anything,” Irene called out. Ruth shuddered as if attacked by the sound waves.

     “We ain’t gonna cook no more. Can’t leave Ellen’s kitchen like this.”

     Among the bowls, utensils, and baking paraphernalia, Irene spotted ten or more fluted white porcelain ramekin dishes, contents partially eaten, dotting the island, kitchen counter, and stovetop. “Stop,” she yelled at Gertrude tossing silver and wooden spoons into dishwasher. “You’ll destroy evidence left by Ellen’s killer.” As the newspaper’s food critic, Irene carried no official power, although two years ago Seattle police credited her insight with exposing a soda jerk killer with the research help of a medical examiner boyfriend who’d chased off bystanders and chastised police officers for not protecting death scene integrity.

     Sarah’s knees buckled; her limp torso caught in the arms of a pivoting Gertrude.

     “Did Sarah eat the same as Ellen?” Gertrude, hugging Sarah erect, asked of no one in particular.

     “Didn’t we all?” Thelma replied.

     Irene stepped to Gertrude in case she needed help with Sarah and to ask questions. Gertrude explained: Shared ingredient use rare. Constant baking surveillance, never. The five swore a culinary sisterhood oath on family spatulas never to divulge either ingredients or methodology unless agreed or published. An uneasy truce most often adhered to with a wink and a nod. Tasting forbidden except with permission. Only a peculiar phobia of Sarah’s had her don latex gloves to mix or knead instead of using floured hands as the other four did.

     A recomposed Sarah allowed Gertrude to answer the telephone. Gertrude, jiggling like a hooked fish suspended on a raised line, let the receiver slip from left hand and dangle above the floor. Thelma and Sarah rushed to Gertrude’s side. Ruth, helped by a hand on the island, staggered to join them as Irene heard Gertrude mumble,  “Ellen’s mother notified her daughter passed.”

     Irene, respectful of the moment, waited to step forward. “Which dish did Ellen eat from?”

     “This one.” Gertrude’s right forefinger pointed left to the counter next to the stovetop.

     “So what was in this?” Irene bent forward to eyeball a ramekin, soufflé partially eaten.

     “Egg yokes and beaten egg whites combined with sugar and selected ingredients. We were testing soufflé recipes for a second cookbook,” Gertrude said. “We all, except Sarah, won county blue ribbons. In fact, Ellen garnered the most by a two-to-one margin.”

     Blue ribbon disparity among friends for twenty-plus years represented a weak motive for murder, Irene thought. “Ellen married?” She remembered Ellen’s initially dropping left arm and hand’s ring finger circular paleness, not created by flour whiteness.

     “Was. There’s restraining order. Her ex gets really violent.”

     “Anyone here this afternoon besides you four?”

     “Ellen spoke to Rev. Randolph, Thelma’s husband, in the dining room. He left half-hour ago. Thelma tried to eavesdrop.”

     “Did not,” Thelma muttered. Unmoving eyes above hand shielding mouth glared at Gertrude.

     “Reverend held Ellen’s hands at church,” Ruth said. Gertrude’s head shook sideways.

     “Any recent confrontations not involving the husband?”

     “Ruth argued with Ellen last week,” Thelma spit out.

     Ruth with brows tight and lips compressed slowly raised a fist to Thelma as the latter shoved gloves into apron pocket. “She claimed I gave her the wrong sweet soufflé sugar blend. I didn’t.”

     “Now, ladies,” Gertrude interjected. “Ruth’s right and Ellen apologized.”

     “What about Sarah’s complaint at the Spokane contest?” Thelma continued. “Ellen was furious. Failed to dial down an oven and burned first soufflé ever.”

     “Stick a fork in it, Thelma,” Sarah blurted out, eyes squinting, lips compressed. “That oven overheated because Ellen got distracted answering the telephone for your UPS sugar delivery.”

     “You’re making up tales,” Thelma retorted. “Ellen didn’t need to pick up the phone.”

     “Not so quick you two.” Gertrude stepped between them, fixed eyes on Thelma. “Don’t say you don’t use special sugar?”

     Thelma twirled and stopped short. “Never.”

     “What about your Boy Scout cookie recipe with its secret sugar/spice mixture?” Ruth asked. “You wouldn’t let any of us sample the package you had.”

     “Why you battering me,” Thelma replied. “I needed that. We all help community charities.”

     Irene asked, “Where’s your sugar, Thelma?”

     “Why?” Thelma planted both feet shoulder-width apart, hands on hips.

     “Look in the green plastic bag under the dining room table,” Gertrude suggested.

     Irene lifted the re-taped white and blue sugar package from the green bag and returned to the island to slit the clear plastic inside. She pressed two left hand fingers into the white powder, licked fingertips. “Taste isn’t sugar. Thelma, don’t leave.”

     Gertrude, after calling police, cornered Irene. “What made you suspect?”

     “Sudden disorientation. Soufflés. Sugar. Drug taste like cocaine. Had to be one of you since neither ex-husband nor minister present close to the collapse. As to motive, a jealous Thelma misinterpreting why Ellen befriended Randolph, while not conclusive, seemed most logical. Collapse either natural causes or induced. If induced, drugs likely used and it’s easy to substitute cocaine for sugar to overdose. And, no pun intended, but finger pointed to Thelma clutching white cotton gloves, you said you four never wore baking.”

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     Author Donan Berg can be contacted at http://www.abodytobones.com/ . His latest full-length fiction novel is entitled Baby Bones. Click title to order e-book or mp3. Happy Veteran's Day Friday 11/11/2011.

Oops, Writing Too Tight

Cramming old magazines into shopping bags, buying an extra flashdrive, saving everything because one never knows when it will come in useful are hoarding traits we can practice or relate to, at least in a limited degree. Writers attempting to cram big thoughts into few words is a gargantuan task. I know. Been there; done that.

When newspaper copy editors do a wonderful job we seldom pause to admire, however, the reverse is a horse of a different color. After many years I can still recall trying to create a headline for a short story about Richard M. Nixon on vacation playing golf on several consecutive days. I came up with: Nixon Teed Off Fourth Day In Row. Of course, it was self-censored and not printed. Nevertheless, the task of headline writing has stuck all these many years.

All writers, journalists, fiction novelists, and jingle creators at times need to hone the craft. What is a headline if not the title of a book?

It's a serious undertaking and, if not done properly, the fodder for late night TV. Thus, headlines can be humorous, give the reader a chuckle in a bland boring day. So stop and think at the following examples. They give a hint at how singular words can have multiple meanings.

-- Police Begin Campaign to Run Down Jaywalkers      (What will happen on Election Day?)

-- Panda Mating Fails; Veterinarian Takes Over    (Guess more than his heart is in the right place.)

-- If Strike Isn't Settled Quickly, It May Last Awhile  (Dah)

-- Cold Wave Linked to Temperatures  (Wasn't the hand close enough to the sun?)

-- Local High School Dropouts Cut in Half  (What the Dickens? Or, was Alice scared?)

-- Hospitals are Sued by 7 Foot Doctors  (Did somebody step on somebody's toes?)

-- Miners Refuse to Work After Death   (No dedication?)

Attributes to the guilty have been left off. One has to have some compassion for other writers even in a time of whimsy. If you're writing anything short, inspect it at all angles and delve deep to expose all intended and unintended meanings. However, if the words sell your book, disregard all changes. And remember, when you're bending down to place that tee in the soft earth, it's not improper to say a prayer that you'll send the ball off into the distance, maybe 300 yards.

A Body To Bones - Donan Berg novel  Thanks to the shelving of A Body To Bones by Barton Library, El Dorado, Arkansas, and Seminole County Public Library System, Casselberry, FL.

Welcome

Welcome to the A Body To Bones mystery novel blog by author Donan Berg.

We welcome each of you on this day Americans remember 9/11 on the tenth anniversary of the infamous attack on three United States locations.

If you have a comment or input, please feel free to express your thoughts within the bounds of common decency.

We look forward to sharing with you excerpts of past novels, future novels, and short stories. Author Donan Berg has published four murder mystery novels: A Body To Bones, The Bones Dance Foxtrot, Baby Bones, and Abbey Burning Love.  He's also published a collection of short stories entitled Bubbling Conflict and Other Stories.

Visit this blog and help us grow. You can also visit author Donan Berg at www.authorsden.com/donanberg.