Tip Tuesday

    Hello everyone!  Welcome to another Tip Tuesday!  I am so sorry that this is coming so late in the day.  I completely forgot that today was Tuesday. Anyway, I thought today would be a good time to discuss static and dynamic characters.  First off, what are static and dynamic characters?  Static characters undergo little or no change during the course of a book/story.  A good example of this is Sam off of Lord of the Rings.  I think we can agree that Same changes very little during the story.  However, that is what makes him so wonderful.  You know that he will always be there for Frodo.  He is a steady and reliable friend.   Dynamic characters, on the other hand, do undergo change.  To stick with the Lord of the Rings theme, I have chosen Frodo as a good example of this.  At the beginning, Frodo is just a normal, innocent Hobbit.  However, when the ring falls into his hands, he is forced to step out of his comfort zone.  Throughout the story, you see how he changes due to constantly being face to face with evil (the ring).
    Static and dynamic characters are both very important to a story.  We want people to change, but we love having those steady characters along for the ride.  We know that they won't change no matter what happens.  The point of all my rambling is this:  don't have all dynamic characters, and don't have all static characters.  They compliment each other.  Each one is important to the story. 

Word Wednesday

I know, I know, I missed Tip Tuesday yesterday (I'm filling in for Hope) ... I wish I could say I was busy, but honestly I spent a nice majority of my free time watching the Hobbit. So how about a Word Wednesday instead?

Before I reveal our word for the day, I'd like to wish a certain somebody a happy late birthday. She started this blog and brought us all together. On top of that, she's a wonderful friend and Christian sister. Happy Birthday, Hope!

And our word for today is ... you guessed it! Hope!

Definition(s) from Dictionary.com:

Noun

1. the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best.
2. a particular instance of this feeling.
3. grounds for this feeling in a particular instance.
4. a person or thing in which expectations are centered.
5. something that is hoped for.

Verb (used with object)

6. to look forward to with desire and reasonable confidence.
7. to believe, desire, or trust

Verb (used without object)

8. to feel that something desired may happen
9. Archaic. to place trust; rely

What I would like us to do with this word, which I'm sure we're all familiar with, is to share a specific time when someone or something gave you hope. Maybe it was a card someone sent you or a Bible verse. Whatever it is, you can put your thoughts in the comments or if you want to make a whole blog post or story about it, feel free.

I'm going to share about a time when Hope gave me hope :) Almost eight years ago, my family took three foster kids into our home, and it was during that time and shortly before, I lost my two closest friends. My new siblings kept me pretty distracted, but there came a time when I was really lonely. There were many nights when I would go to bed and cry, asking God for a new friend in my life. The order of events are a little jumbled up, but I remember sometime during this time receiving a letter from Hope, whose family had moved to another state shortly after we had gotten the kids. We had been friends, but we were different enough, we didn't always relate to each other very well. And here she was sending me a letter. I was pleasantly surprised and excited at the little question, "Do you want to be my pen pal?" I wrote back and thus began a long distance friendship that became deeper than I ever thought it would. We even discovered we had more in common than we thought. :) I suddenly had hope and encouragement of a long-lasting friendship for many years to come. Hope's letters and phone calls since then have been the highlight of many days. Thank you, Hope.

Tip Tuesday - Let There Be Inspiration!

I've always told myself, and maybe you have too, that I cannot write unless I have inspiration. Day after day, I live life just waiting for someone to inspire me, something to get me excited about writing again. I want the best idea, and I want it to be easy. Starting to see the issue? Who am I writing for? Is this the attitude I should have? No. If it is my goal in life to use my gift of writing for God's glory, I cannot just sit around waiting for an idea to hit me on the head. Full time authors certainly don't do this. They have deadlines, yet somehow they manage to publish amazing books. So how on earth do they do it? My English teacher posted this in our classroom a while back, and I believe it sums up my main idea pretty well:

Is this easy? No. But should I let it stop me? It better not. If I never write, if I never turn on the faucet, if I just sit around waiting, I may never find the river of inspiration I'm looking for. So let's write. Turn on your faucets, and if that means only writing 100 words a day, just do it. At least you'll be going somewhere, and eventually, you will find the current. 

Tip Tuesday

It's 9:45 p.m. and I just remembered that I was supposed to fill in for Hope today. Here's a quick tip, although I hope it's not one we've already done.

Sometime when my brother came home from college for a visit, I had asked him to read one of my stories. He did so cheerfully, which I've been so grateful for so many times, and he gave me a wonderful little tip that has greatly improved my writing: Try not to use adverbs to describe your verbs. Why? Because chances are, if you're wanting to use an adverb, you probably need a stronger verb. Instead of saying "The boy quickly climbed up the ladder," you should be saying, "The boy scrambled up the ladder." Of course, this doesn't mean you should always abstain from using adverbs. It's just a reminder to check your verb choice.

Stephanie Morril posted in more detail about this on Go Teen Writers if you want to know more:
http://goteenwriters.blogspot.com/2014/01/why-should-i-not-use-adverbs.html

The Aldridges and the Indians Part 5 - Final!

 All righty, here is the last part of the story I was posting before we took our break!  =)

The next morning at breakfast Inga decided it was time to bring up her request.
    “Aunt Rena,” She began.
    “Yes, child? What is it?” Aunt Rena looked up from her plate of “rich food”, as Inga had come to call it.
    “I-I was just wondering....” Inga paused slightly and Aunt Rena jumped in.   
    “Elisabeth, must you stutter so? It’s quite unbecoming of you. If you have something to say, say it without hesitation.” Aunt Rena instructed.
    “Yes, ma’am. I was wondering if I could go back home.” Inga said quickly and louder than necessary.
    “My hearing is not impaired, Elisabeth. You needn’t speak so loudly. Go home? Is it just because I asked you not to stutter?” 
    “No, Aunt Rena! Quite not. I’m just missing my family, that’s all. I didn’t realize this was going to be an extended visit. Well, I guess I didn’t know how long I’d be here, but I certainly didn’t think it’d be this long, and I have been feeling rather homesick of late. It’s not that I don’t like England or anything; on the contrary, your home is to be spoken of with high regard, as well as the care I have received during my stay, extended though it may have been. So it is with utmost hope that I request this, that you may understand my reasons and consent.” Inga concluded.   
    “My goodness, child! Such a speech! It sounds as though you are requesting to be released from prison!”
    “Oh, no, nothing like that, dear aunt --”
    “Elisabeth, I wasn’t finished, and I don’t intend to hear another of your pleading speeches. Your request is granted. When do you wish to leave?” Aunt Rena asked.
    “Oh, as soon as possible!” Inga exclaimed eagerly, then caught herself. “Ah, whenever it is convenient for you.... It’s not a hurry.”
    “Very well. I became aware of the fact that the train for the United States leaves tomorrow morning. Would it suit you to leave then?”
    “Oh, yes, aunt. I will be ready and waiting.”    
    “Very good. Go on now, one of the maids will help you pack.”
    “Oh, if it’s all right with you, I’d just as soon pack on my own.”
    “As you wish, Elisabeth.” And so the two departed.   Inga ran up the stairs and into her room, grabbing up her suitcase and stuffing her nearest belongings into it with a flourish. So excited was she to pack, it was quite a sloppy ordeal, and one of the maids had to repack later that evening when Inga was in bed.      
    The next morning Aunt Rena’s chauffeur drove Inga in one of the finer carriages to the train depot. Soon Inga was aboard after the farewells had been exchanged. She felt a tingle of excitement as the train started up and chugged down the tracks toward the dock, where she would board a ship to continue her journey home.
                ________
Back in Kansas, Benjamin and Caleb were heading down to Uncle Red Deer’s teepee when Eliphelet came running up to them. 
    “Say, Benji, Caleb, you want to take that pig back?” Eliphelet asked.
    “How come, Phelet?” Benjamin asked, using Eliphelet’s nickname that they’d given him.
    “’Cause Shua and Hama have been making me and Eli take care of it. They don’t care one bit about it.” Phelet complained.
    “Aw, that’s too bad, Phelet. Ah, I have an idea! Have you seen an extra cow or dog around these parts lately?” Caleb asked, grinning with an idea.
    “Maybe. Why?” Phelet asked suspiciously.
    “Because I was wonderin,’ that’s why. But if you tell us where those two animals are, maybe Benji and I can help ya’ll take care o’ that ol’ pig o’ yours.” Caleb explained.
    “Hmmm..... How come you want to know?”
    “Because they’re ours, and we haven’t seen ‘em since we got here.” Caleb said.
    “Ah! How about if I find them and return them, you take over complete responsibility of the pig?” Phelet bargained.
    “Nope! Not good enough. It’s your family’s pig, you’ve gotta take care of most of it. Just show us where that cow and dog are being stowed away.”
    “Well, I think they’re planing on eatin’ that dog soon.” Phelet said.
    “Nuh uh! I haven’t seen one dog bein’ ate since we’ve been here, and that’s been a long time. You’re just trying to scare us.”
    “Oh, all right already! Follow me.” And the three youngsters trooped down the path away from the teepees.
                ___________
    “Anika, Anika!” The call rang out as Ma was doing the wash a few days later. Grandmother Tia was running swiftly towards her.
    “What is it? Is something wrong?” Ma asked.
    “I don’t know, there’s a wagon coming!” Grandmother Tia exclaimed. “Are you expecting someone?”
    “No, I don’t think so.   I wonder who it could be!” Ma gathered the laundry and together they hurried back to the teepees.
    “There, you see?” Grandmother Tia pointed to a wagon slowly approaching.
    “Do you suppose we should get the men?” Ma asked.
    “I don’t think so. There’s just one wagon.”   Grandmother reasoned. Ma nodded. Soon the children had gathered around, and by then the wagon was stopping in front of them. A young lady jumped out of the back and ran towards them. It was Inga!
    “Inga! You’re home!” Adah was the first to speak, running and surrounding Inga in an embrace. “You didn’t tell us you were coming!” Adah said in delight as the others crowded around.
    “It was a surprise!” Inga said, laughing.
    “Well, you certainly surprised us!” Ma laughed.  
    “Ah, good, I wouldn’t want my surprise to be ruined!” Laughed Inga. “Where’s Papa?”
    “He and some of the others went hunting.”
    “Ah, fresh meat for supper! Sounds good!” Inga smiled.
    “Really? I thought you might be missing fancy food!” Ma chuckled.
    “Nope. I’m ready to be an Indian again! I’ve had enough of fancy life!” Inga laughed. “And am I ever glad to be called by my real name again!”
    Ma looked at her questionably but when Inga didn’t elaborate decided it wasn’t of importance.
    “Well, come, you must be tired from your trip. You can rest until supper.” Ma said.
    “Ah, I’d rather not. I’m tired of being pampered, I want to do something useful!” Inga said with an exaggerated sigh. They all laughed as they headed towards the teepees with Miss Piggy trailing after them.

                THE END!

Of Men and Dragons--Part 1

    This is one of the first stories I wrote.  The only fiction I had written up to that point was what I had written for a creative writing class and perhaps another random story or two.  My point is, it is not very well written.  However, I enjoyed writing it at that time.  So, enjoy this story that has been hidden in the dust bin and was never completed.  Yes, that habit started early on.  *sheepish grin*  By the way, I just made up the title on the spot because I never bothered to name the story.  So, if it seems cheesy, that is why.  Enjoy!

 

   Robert coughed hard, trying to clear dust from his throat and vent some of his frustration out on something.  “Come on, horse.  Gimme a break.”  His brown eyes narrowed and he bounced the loop of the rope in his hand, preparing to cast it at the wild horse once again.

    The stallion reared and let out an angry cry.  It was wired and upset.  With another scream it galloped towards the fence, a wild look in its eyes.  Surprise filled Robert as he realized its intentions.  Dust swirled up and around the horse as it reached the fence and then shoved itself upward into a soaring jump.

    “No!” Robert clambered over the fence and hastily threw the rope.  The horse could not escape, he would not allow it.  The moment the stallion landed the rope settled about its neck.  Robert could not help but grin.  “What a perfect throw,” he thought, “I doubt anyone else could hav- Umph!” He opened his mouth trying to draw in air.  Sticks and rocks scraped his elbows and tore at his pants and shirt.  In front of him, the black tail of the horse streamed.  Panic coursed through Robert’s body; he had to let go of the rope.  Yet, his hands seemed glued to it.  Pain shot up his side as the horse turned sharply, swinging him into a boulder.

                                                                                    ~

    Black dots swam before Robert’s eyes when he opened them.  He raised his head slightly, stopping when pain pierced his side.  It was night-time.  Was he near the ranch house, or had the horse continued to drag him away from it?  He slowly raised himself into a sitting position.  “Oh!’ He groaned. 

    Suddenly, from behind him, he heard the crack of a twig.  “Hey, Steven, is that you?”  Robert called out, hoping it was his brother.  “Could you come give me a hand?”

    Silence.  Then, cold metal touched Robert’s throat.  “Who are you?” an unfamiliar voice queried.  Robert turned his head slightly, his eyes straining to make who was standing next to him.  “I asked,” came the voice more forcefully, “Who are you?!”

    Trying to keep unneeded fear from tainting his answer, Robert said with a forced calm, “My name’s Robert, and what are you doing on my property?”

    “Your property?  Ha!  I happen to know that this is not your property.  Do you know where you are?  You are in Ventigo!  The home of the elves!  In fact, the very land you are sitting on does not belong to anyone but the birds and the beasts and the plants.”

    Great, thought Robert, Not only am I hurt, but I am with some loony guy who thinks he is in the land of the elves who is an animal rights person.  “Listen,” Robert said, hoping to talk a little sense into the guy.  “I don’t have a clue what you are talking about, but I think you must be confused.  My home is right over there,” he waved his hand towards the left, “and I would greatly appreciate it if you would help me there . . . after you put down the sword.” Robert slowly edged away from the sharp point.  I wonder where he got that thing.  I am definitely going to have to report this guy to the police.

    “Your home is over there?  Whatever, there is nothing over there but a lake.”  The man grabbed Robert and yanked him to his feet.  Pain shot up Robert’s arm, and black dots made their appearance again.  A firm hand shoved him forward.  “Move!” 

    “Alright, alright,” Robert muttered, gently massaging his hurting arm.  For the next hour, he and the crazy man walked over uneven terrain to who knew where.  Whenever Robert began to stop to rest, the man poked him in the back with the sword.  As time passed Robert became painfully aware of the full day’s work he had already put in.  His feet felt like lead.  Finally, not even the fear of being stabbed in the back with the sword could keep him on his feet.  Pain and exhaustion won out.  Robert could hear the man threatening him.  Before he could defend himself blackness claimed him.

~

    Robert jerked, and sat up.  Where was he?  Around him light flooded in through dirty windows and an empty door frame.  Unfamiliar walls and a ceiling seemed to be staring out at him through knots in the wood.   I guess last night was not a dream.  “But if it wasn’t, where is the man that kidnapped me?” he muttered, while trying to lay his tousled brown hair in a sense of order.  Disgust filled him as dirt came off on his hand.  He slowly slipped off the cot on which he had been laying.  What a dump.  If this is where that guy lives, I don’t blame him for going crazy.  Dirt covered the floor and walls, and the cot that had served as Robert’s bed was, well, Robert didn’t even want to touch it. 

    He took one step out of the cabin, and then stopped.  In front of him, gigantic mountains rose high into the sky.  White fluffy clouds danced around their middle keeping the rest of their mass hidden in the fluffy folds.  Robert squinted his eyes trying to see their tops.  He shook his head in amazement.  They could not be seen.    

    “Good morning!” came a musical voice.  Robert jerked in surprise and whirled around.  A young girl with slanted eyes and a pert nose was watching him.

    “Good morn-hey!  Why are your ears pointed like that?” 

    The little girl tossed her golden hair with a laugh.  “Why aren’t yours?  I guess Lyden was right.  You aren’t an elf!”

    “Who’s Lyden?”

    “The elf that found you.  Don’t you remember?”

    “Well, I never really got to see his face, and it wouldn’t matter even if I had.  It isn’t like he introduced himself to me.”  He brought his eyebrows down in a scowl.

    The girl let out another tinkling laugh.  “Since you haven’t seen it fit to ask, my name is Lydell.  What is yours?”

    “Robert.”

    “Well, Robert, follow me.  I am sure you wish to resolve your being here as swiftly as possible.”

    Robert hesitated, and then realized that, since he had no clue where he was, following the girl was his best bet at getting out of here. He followed the girl, which he judged to be about ten into a forest of stately trees.  Lush green grass, with groups of flowers scattered about, grew under the canopy of leaves.  Birds that he had never before seen lept from branch to branch letting out calls that made him want to sing and dance.  The girl seemed to have no reserves around strangers and laughed and chattered while, every now and then, turning around to see if he was still following her.  Robert entertained himself part of the time by studying her clothing.  She wore a green dress with brown piping.  It looked common enough, what caught his attention was a small belt that was buckled around her waist with a dagger hanging from it.  Did all the young girls around here go around armed?   For the most part he ignored what the girl said.  Then he heard a word that caught his attention.  “Did you say dragons?” he stopped and stared.

    “Yes, haven’t you been listening?” she glared at him for second, then continued.  “As I said before, we live quite peaceable here except for the dragons that plague us ever now and then.  They are violent creatures, and there seems to be no hope for their befriending.”

    “You talk as if they could be befriended; as if they could talk.” 

    “They can.”

    His eyes widened in shock.

    She reached down and gently fondled an orchid.  “They don’t speak like you and me; however, they can communicate through the mind.  And before you ask how we know, we know because they overpower us with their minds so we can’t defend ourselves.”

    Robert looked around him at the forest, suddenly feeling chilled.  “But it feels so safe here.”

    “But it isn’t.  Not a bit.”  She cocked her head, “However, perhaps someday we will be able to break through to the dragons.  Many of our old songs and ballads speak of such a day.”

    They continued on in silence; Robert pondering on what she had said, and the girl seemingly content to study the surrounding wildlife.  Then once again, her musical voice took wing, and he found himself hearing descriptions of the animals that they caught sight of now and then.  Some of the animals were the same as ones that lived near his house, while others where as different as the day is from night.  This place was most certainly a wonder.  Yet, even the beauty of it did not keep fear from wrapping its fingers around his heart.  This place was most certainly not anywhere near where he lived, and how he got here, and who these people where, was an even bigger mystery.     

Tip Tuesday

    Have you ever read a book that had so many characters that you kept forgetting who was who and what so special about them?  Lots of characters can be fun to write about, but you want to make sure your reader can tell them apart.  How can this be done?  One way is to make their circumstances and who (or what) they are very unique.  Tolkien's Lord of the Rings is a good example of this.  In the first book, Frodo has a dizzying amount of companions with him through part of the book.  There is Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, Boromir, Aragorn, Pippin, Merry, and Sam.  That's a lot of characters to keep track off and tell apart.  However, most of them are fairly easy to keep straight.  Gandalf is a wizard.  Legolas is an elf.  Gimli is a dwarf.  Aragorn is the rightful heir of Gondor (he is also the other main character in the books).  And Boromir is the slightly suspicious character who comes from Gondor.  All of those are easy to tell apart.  The hobbits are a bit more tricky, but you can usually keep them straight as well.  Now, imagine if they had been all hobbits or all men or all elves?  That would be so confusing.  
    Another way to help readers to tell your characters apart is simply by using nicknames.  Have you ever read the Sugar Creek Gang books?  Each one of the boys in the gang had a nickname (Circus, Poetry, Dragonfly, etc.).  As soon as you read the nickname it would immediately draw your mind to what character it referred to, making it easy to tell them apart.
    You may not think that your characters all run together, but remember, you are the author, of course they don't seem to run together to you.  You created them. :)  
    Hopefully this was helpful to you.  Have fun writing!