7 Lessons Puppies Can Teach Writers

1. Puppies and writers need structure. Don't fall asleep at your writing desk.

2. Engage readers like puppies on a sniffing expedition. If my puppies get the scent of something interesting, they'll vacuum dirt.

3. Puppy training requires patience. It's easy for writers to get overwhelmed and discouraged. Don't frustrate your puppy.

4. Puppies don't hold grudges. When they're corrected they get over it, and wag their tails. May you and I be as charitable.

5. Puppies who bark constantly and jump on people are annoying. Know when to bark about your book. But don't knock people over.

6. Don't poop on your story. (two examples)

• Don't let the story wander around in long-winded scene setting
• Be sure you are actually writing a story, not a cluster of life sketches.

     7. Keep wagging your tales.

Finding Ideas for blogs or books

Whether you write books or a blog, where do you get ideas for stories?

This one came from a local police report, and then was reported in a local newspaper in Georgia. All I did was change setting, characters, and add more humor.

Hearing loud voices in the theater's lobby, I flew through the auditorium and banged opened the doors, only to face the threatening prongs of a pitchfork. A man with a thick uni brow wearing overalls blocked my way. He aimed the weapon at my chest, and motioned for me to stand next to Jada, the theater's office manager, and a teenage girl I'd never seen before.

The man wore a red kerchief over his nose and mouth, that sucked into his face when he inhaled and flapped outward when he talked.

“Don’t nobody move, and nobody gets hurt.” Flap. Flap, the kerchief waved at us. Then sucked against his mouth. “Hand over the money.” Flap-flap-flap, the hanky puffed at us.

“We don’t have any money here,” Jada said.

He hesitated a moment and looked around bewildered that a community theater would have no money.

“You had opening night here last night…that stupid puppet on a stick.” Flap-flap.

Oh great! Even the pitchfork, LooneyToons-burglar is a critic.

“We never leave cash overnight here,” Jada said.

“Then gimme your purses. C’mon, throw ‘em down here. I ain’t got all day!”

Jada and I flopped our purses down.

“What about you?” He brandished the pitchfork at the girl.

“I don’t have a purse.” Her voice level and firm, her dark eyes squinted at him.

“She’s a kid,” Jada said.

“Kids have phones. Toss it.”

“You can’t have it!”

He angled the pitchfork towards her. “Now!”

She pulled it out of her back pocket, and skidded it across the floor. He stooped and picked up the phone and two handbags. He fumbled with the pitchfork. We watched as he moved to the front door. The pitchfork slipped. He grabbed it, cussed, and repositioned the loot. As the man hurried through the doorway, the pitchfork clattered to the floor.

The girl bolted. Grabbed the pitchfork. Dashed after him. Down the steps. She covered ground like a missile.

“You took my phone, you bastard!”

She caught up with him, and rammed the pitchfork into his buttocks. It caught him off balance. He fell.

By then, Jada and I had reached the thief.

“Gimme my phone!” Pepper stabbed him again while he was on the ground. He yelled.

Then Jada sat on him. “You try to grab me, and I’ll break your arm.”

I retrieved the girl's phone from the ground and dialed police. We had our man.

Quick Pick Book Reviews

This week, my guest post is by my friend and writing colleague, Sally Handley.

Sally Handley, author of “On Reading, Writing and Retirement” (www.sallyhandley.com)

Unbelievable(Cassie Baxter Mysteries #1)

by Cindy Blackburn (Goodreads Author)

A cross between Mayberry and Hooterville, Lake Elizabeth is a thoroughly charming and zany little town in Vermont. History professor Cassie Baxter is perpetually exasperated by her science fiction writing father, her neighbors and the wacky inhabitants of the town. When Cassie takes a kayak ride and discovers a body floating in a boat, she’s drawn into solving the mystery…especially when the body disappears, and, in a town of eccentric characters, she becomes labelled “looney tunes". If you want a cozy mystery that ratchets up the wacky, you’ll really enjoy this book. 

Rogue Lawyer (Rogue Lawyer #1)

by John Grisha (Goodreads Author)

John Grisham just keeps getting better and better. I admire his taking on the tough issues and exposing the underbelly of our justice system. In this book he challenges our unquestioning regard for men in uniform, particularly policemen, since 9/11 and shines a light on the problems resulting from the militarization of our local police forces. Keep shining the light in dark corners, John.

The Atomic Weight of Love

by Elizabeth J. Church (Goodreads Author)

This book is a superb slice of women's history, tracing the life of one woman, Meridian Wallace Whetstone, from before World War II up through 2011. You ache for the wasted potential of the this strong, intelligent woman, as she defers her dreams to accommodate her husband's. You also cheer her every victory, no matter how small. And you'll never look at crows the same way. Thoroughly good read.

Confessions Of A Writer

A year ago, I thought I was almost finished writing my first novel, “A Killer Show.” But then I gave the manuscript to some friends who taught writing, or were authors. They had agreed to read through and critique it.

What came back knocked me over. A lot was wrong with my writing. It was hard to pull the slings and arrows out of my creative self. The story sat for a long time. Perhaps what I had learned in writing class, and tried to accomplish had been a waste of time.

Understand, this isn't about blaming anyone. Everyone who took time to read and critique my work put in time and thoughtful consideration. They were doing me a favor.

I emailed my mentor, John Yeoman, PhD in creative writing, and shared what had happened. Normally he doesn't edit for his students. This time he made an exception. Yes, there definitely was a problem with the story's structure, but it was an easy fix. He gave examples, and reassurance. I began the rewrite.

Now I'm almost finished, immensely grateful for the critiquing. The rewrites fashioned a story a hundred times better than the first one. I am so grateful.

If you're a writer, I hope this encourages you. And if you love to read books, I hope you appreciate that writing a novel is not so easy.

 “A Killer Show” will be completed and available in December this year or early 2017. When it is, you will be the first to know.

When Little Irritations Get Out of Hand

The grocery cart rocked on its wobbly wheel. I thought about exchanging it for another cart, but I was in a hurry. Halfway down the cereal aisle it squealed and pitched like an obstinate pig.

Darcy, my best friend since second grade, waved as she strolled toward me, a basket looped over her arm.

“Hi. Fancy meeting you.” Darcy frowned. “Your cart clunks.”

“I know.”

Why does she always point out the obvious?

“Exchange it.”

“I'm almost finished.”

She knotted her eyebrows, and stepped in front of me to pull a box of rice off the shelf. “Suit yourself. But I wouldn't put up with that.” She adjusted her glasses and turned the box to its content side.

“Maybe I like a challenge.”

She looked back at me and raised an eyebrow. A marimba rift interrupted us, and

Darcy glanced at her phone. “I need to take this.” She dropped the rice into her basket and stepped away. “See ya,” she called over her shoulder.

I thrust my carriage forward as it wobbled and lurched past the Sugar Pops. Even though she was my friend, she could be annoying. Truth was that clunky wheel was getting to me. I was peeved with Darcy and this cart! I gave it a good shove. The left wheel locked. I gritted my teeth.

By now, the difficulty with the grocery cart had become a significant battle. And I wasn’t backing down. Not this time! I jammed the cart forward. It bucked and pitched. My patience had evaporated. I pursed my lips. Then rammed it. Rammed with the force of a raging elephant on steroids. The cart hooked a left. It smashed into an end-cap that balanced a pyramid of soup cans. My eyebrows shot up. My mouth fell open. Cans cascaded to the floor. The whole display collapsed in a deafening roar. Cans spun and rolled. In every direction. There I was in the middle of the mess. All eyes were on me. Several shoppers stepped over the rolling cans, and proceeded on their way. A couple of baggers in Grocer-green aprons arrived to clear the aisles of soup cans. Darcy approached the chaos and made no effort to hide a smirk.

“Ma’am,” A young man hurried toward me. “Are you ready to check out?”

I nodded, eager to leave. It must have been mutual.