Trusting the Stars

Gallery

This gallery contains 1 photo.

John M. Daniel is a freelance editor and writer. He has published dozens of stories in literary magazines and is the author of fifteen published books, including four mystery novels, two of which (The Poet’s Funeral and Hooperman) earned starred … Continue reading

The Birdhouse and a Farmer’s Market

Gallery

This gallery contains 2 photos.

Today’s guest is award-winning author Laura Hilton. A breast cancer survivor, she lives in Arkansas with her husband and five children she homeschools.  She has several Amish series published, and another three-book series is under contract. She gives us a … Continue reading

Pushing Through the Ugly

Gallery

This gallery contains 3 photos.

Today, we get some good advice from Jennifer Slattery. She writes soul-stirring fiction.  She also writes for several Internet sites.  Take it away, Jennifer. “This story stinks,” I say, as I close my computer and stomp toward the kitchen—to make … Continue reading

I Wish I Had a Different Father

Gallery

This gallery contains 2 photos.

Christine Lindsay was born in Ireland, but now makes her home in British Columbia, on the west coast of Canada with her husband and their frown family. She tells us some of the motivation behind her historical series. What on … Continue reading

We Are Surrounded by Story Ideas

I’m often asked where ideas for a book come from.  I’ve spoken and written on this before.  For a writer—at least once he or she really gets into the routine of writing—ideas are everywhere.  The newspaper and TV news programs are full of ideas.  My 94,000 word novel The Silver Medallion was the result of reading a two paragraph article in the Los Angeles Times.

A few years ago, a number of churches in east Texas were burned.  Cleansed_by_Fire_cover blog 3 The police finally caught the two young men who were setting the fires.  But no real motive came out.  It appeared to be a prank to see if they could get away with it. I thought about the fires and began to wonder what motive a person might have to burn several churches. Out of that came Cleansed by Fire, a novel now in paperback, e-book and audio.

William Carl wrote his first novel, The Prize, based on some of his experiences as a chemist. He said he introduced a murder to make it more interesting, but the basics of the story were similar to his real life. Another of his books, Daring to Love, was a fictionalized version of a real-life drama he watched while he was in management.

The Sickles Compass, by Stephen Woodfin, is a work of fiction whose central theme is Alzheimer’s Disease.  Woodfin had dealt with this progressive disease in his family.

Sunny Frazier has written several books in which the protagonist works in the office of a police department and has a strong interest in astrology.  Sunny herself worked in law enforcement for many years. And she has been a serious student of astrology even longer.

Walt and Ann Davis took a trip, visiting every Texas county that touched the border of the state. Out of that came their illustrated book Exploring the Edges of Texas.

Our cover-MAC youngest daughter, Diane Bailey, a well-published writer of middle grade and YA books, sang in a chorus that placed fifth in the International finals of the Sweet Adelines.  We decided that would be a good setting for a murder mystery.  Murder a Cappella was published by Wayside Press.

Some time back, I read an interesting folk tale about Texas before it was an independent country. I don’t write historical novels. So, I wondered how that folk tale could affect life in the twenty-first century. A Ton of Gold resulted from reading this folk tale. The book is 90,000 words long; the folk tale was four pages. Clearly, long novels can come from small prompts.

Corey Mitchell, a Los Angeles Times bestseller, writes true crime. He searches for some crime already resolved and researches all the facts. He then weaves those into an interesting book. Obviously, they are popular books.

Take a story from the day’s news and ask the famous writer question: what if? What if the crime had not been solved? What if the police made a mistake and arrested the wrong man? What if the victim had been a celebrity, or not a celebrity? What if the girl had gotten on the wrong bus and this handsome man had helped her find her way back? What if the boy’s dog had been hit by a car and wasn’t there to defend the little boy? What if you gave a mouse a piece of chocolate? What if the President ‘s daughter, just as a lark, escaped from her bodyguards?  What if the star quarterback broke his thumb before the big game with all the scouts present? What if you were writing your memoir and discovered a family secret that (pick one) shocks, amazes, terrifies, enlightens, changes your view on …?  What if you find some letters from your grandmother that no one else has seen? What if your reclusive neighbor suddenly needs your help and must explain why he lives as he does?

Then, let your mind tumble ideas and see where they lead. Nothing is impossible. Outlandish things can happen. The range of things people are capable of, good or bad, is unbounded. And no character you can dream up is beyond reality. You cannot make your characters bigger than life. But you can make them bigger than normal, bigger than those around you, bigger than you have in previous writings.

Fiction is without bounds. Let you imagination run wild on story and characters.  Do not be afraid to write an outlandish story. As unbelievable as you might think it is, it is not stranger than real life. There is only one restriction on you.

You must write it well.

 

Over My Dead Body

On May 1, the second Father Frank Mystery, Over My Dead Body, is scheduled to release.  So, today, I’m going to preview chapter 1.  Let me know what you think.

 

Chapter 1

Syd snorted and thrust his chin toward his adversary. “Over my dead body.”

The man almost smiled. “If you insist,” he said easily.

Seventy-two year old Syd Cranzler squinted against the bright Texas October sun and scrutinized the well-dressed man in front of him. Syd was probably six inches shorter than the man, but Syd’s voice had more iron in it. “Was that a threat?”

“No sir, Mr. Cranzler,” Duke Heinz said.

Syd didn’t like this city slicker, wouldn’t have even if he weren’t trying to steal Syd’s homestead. Even Duke’s clothes irritated him. The conservative black pinstriped suit, power-red tie and black wing-tips polished to perfection made the man look like he was posing for a magazine picture in New York City. And what was this “Duke” bit? Did he think he was John Wayne? “Why don’t you just mosey on down the road a mile?” He jerked his hand up and pointed. “Lots of land there.”

They stood on pine needles under three towering trees. Forty feet behind them was Syd’s small, frame house, looking like a giant, square tumbleweed.

Bud Wilcox, Pine Tree’s City Manager pushed his straw hat back a little and took a step forward. “Syd, Pine Tree wants this shopping center here, inside the city limits. Think of all the tax revenue we’ll get.”

“So’s you can waste even more’n you do now? It ain’t your house and land, Pipsqueak”

Bud reddened at the nickname Syd often used on him, but kept his mouth shut.

A mud-caked ‘92 Camaro rattled to a stop half off the black-top road. A man got out and started across the yard to where Syd was shaking his finger at Bud.

Duke started to speak, but Syd cut him off. “And don’t tell me again it’s twice what it’s worth. You don’t know what it’s worth to me. And what’s this ‘fee simple’ bit?” He cocked his head to the side. “You think I’m simple? Take your money and go back to Jersey.”

Bud waggled his balding head. “It’s a lot of dollars.”

“He don’t need your money,” said the man from the Camaro. “He stole enough from me.”

“Stay out of it, W.C.,” Syd snapped. But his focus never left Duke. “You keep your money; I’ll keep my land.”

Duke spread his hands. “Mr. Cranzler, the Supreme Court says eminent domain can be used to obtain land needed for a project in the public interest.”

“I know all ‘bout the Supreme Court, and how they trampled all over people’s property rights. I’d like to see some private company try to take the land they live on. They’d change their tune right fast. But that case was decided for a Yankee town. This is Texas. We still believe in property rights down here. And this ain’t in the public interest. It’s in Lockey Corporation’s interest.”

Duke smiled as he pulled a folded paper from the inside pocket of his coat. “Here’s the court order, and it’s signed by a judge right here in Texas.” He held the paper out to Syd.

Syd ignored it. “Judge McFatage, right? He’d sign anything for a price.”

Bud Wilcox leaned in. “Now, Syd, you shouldn’t talk about the Honorable McFatage that way.”

“Honorable, my foot. He’s for sale. Common knowledge. You know what they say: he’s the best judge money can buy. And it looks like Lockey’s the buyer.”

“Look, Mr. Cranzler,” Duke said. “We’re going to start dirt work in three weeks. I’d like to have all the paperwork in order by then. You’ve lost this fight. You might as well recognize that. You can delay signing. But by fighting this, you may end up getting less money and paying a lot of it to lawyers. You can’t stop it. This project will be built. And it starts in three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” Syd pulled on his chin and a sly grin crept onto his leathery face. “I’m bettin’ my lawyer’ll have my appeal filed before then. And I’m thinkin’ I can tie this up for years. You sure Lockey wants to wait that long?” His head bobbed up and down as he continued. “Be a lot faster to go somewheres else.” Now he laughed. “Bet they’re gonna cut you loose when this don’t happen. Can your butt.”

Duke’s smile faded and his eyes turned hard. “Two months from now, this will all be asphalt.”

“Like I said, over my dead body.”

Duke put the paper back in his pocket. “Old man, you’ll hardly make a bump in the pavement.”

 End of Chapter 1

 Jim:  Let me know if you think this works as an opening.  Thanks.