The Monster, Part 2

Posted on October 7, 2011 by Beth Hull

Yes, I will beat a dead horse. For the first installment of this scintillating poetastic series, click here.

The Monster, Part Dos

She could smell it’s1 breath, the crude stench lingering as the monster went back to the hole it slept in. It lied2 down and began snoring once more. What the heck is going on? Kimberly wondered. But she didn’t mind. The longer the monster slept, the more time James would have to realize what a moron he was and would come looking for her.3

Again, ITS, not it’s.
The past tense of lie, as in, “to lie down,” is lay.
I’m not getting a clear picture of how Kimberly is tied right now, and why she isn’t struggling more. I am wondering who the real moron is in this story.

Frantically, Kimberly looked around, taking in her surroundings as she did so.1 What if James was too angry this time, and didn’t come back for her? He knew she couldn’t find her way around in the woods, but right now he was probably too angry to care.2

What else is she doing as she looks around? Not taking in her surroundings?
James sounds like an Edwardian (of the Twilight, not the era) jerk. Perhaps the monster sparkles a little, and Kimberly can fall in love with the monster instead?

Kimberly decided that she couldn’t always depend on James.1 Sure, he had gotten her out of many tough situations,2 but right now he was being senseless. Kimberly looked around for a weapon. Naturally, there weren’t any nearby. After all, sorcerers aren’t widely known for their moronic stupidity.3

Yes, yes, and thrice yes!
Have there been other supernatural encounters? Or by “tough situations” does she mean how she forgot her homework, or got locked out of the house?
And that’s it, she just stops looking? Sorcerers might not be stupid, but they should have some kind of hubris, like pride, that causes them to overlook things that resourceful heroines can find so the heroines don’t have to depend on jerk boyfriends to come and save them like a god from the machine.

Then, all of a sudden, Kimberly heard the sorceress shouting angrily at something or someone out in front of the house. Could it be? Yes it was! It was James!1 “James!” Kimberly cried out desperately.2 “James! James! Back here!”

It’s a bird, it’s a plane, no! It’s horrible writing!
Watch those adverbs, sistah.

As if in a nightmare,1 the monster awoke. It looked around hungrily, then it’s evil gray eyes rested on Kimberly. Terrified, Kimberly was quiet. She no longer heard anything but silence.2 Had the sorceress gotten James, too? But then the monster lifted up its snout, sniffing the air. James bounded out of nowhere,3 tackling the vicious monster.4 The monster wailed in surprise, then began bucking and jumping, trying to throw James off its back.5

Whose nightmare? This is my nightmare.
Here’s something I read somewhere – that even in silence, you can hear noises. If nothing else, the sound of your own breathing. Or maybe there’s the wind in the trees, or the hum of the refrigerator. Any of these things is more interesting than absolute silence. Besides. You can’t hear silence, can you?
Nowhere? Like a wyrm hole or something? Something magic?! A nice twist would be if James were the sorceress. A little cross-dressing, a little dissociative identity disorder….
Swoon! My hero!
I feel sorry for the monster. It didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just doing its monsterly things.

And thus ends the second installment of “The Monster.” Next week, we’ll finish the story.

After that, I have a vampire story I wrote in high school. I think it’s even more embarrassing than this one.

Flu Shots

Posted on October 5, 2011 by Beth Hull

Z’s giving “flu shots” during her quiet play time. I mentioned that we need to go get them done this week, and she got a little apprehensive. You know the routine. “I don’t want a shot. I don’t need a flu shot. Why do we get flu shots?” And then, typically, flu shots show up in her imaginary play with her stuffed friends and dolls. Husband is home, and she just roped him into playing “flu shot” with her.

Z: Are you ready? Ask about the flu shot.

Husband: So what’s the story with these flu shots?

…

Husband: OW!

Z: Sorry.

Husband: That really hurt. Z, you need to be gentle. And flu shots don’t go in your head.

Ever-Suffering Mother: (unsuccessfully attempts to hold back laughter)

That’s all. I had no idea what to write. In fact, I’ve been playing stinking solitaire for the past hour, waiting for an idea to manifest itself between the Eight of Hearts and the Seven of Spades. Never happened. But now I can make fun of my husband’s pain so it all worked out, didn’t it?

NiFtY Author Stephen Brayton

Posted on September 30, 2011 by Beth Hull

Stephen Brayton is the author of mystery novels Night Shadows and Beta. He also rocks the taekwondo scene.

BH: Stephen, thanks for visiting us today! What’s your one-paragraph pitch for your latest book, Beta?

SB: There’s this time traveling guy who flits around the universe in a British police call box. Usually he has a beautiful companion…wait, that’s the premise of one of my favorite TV shows. Let me try again.

Private Investigator Mallory Petersen, a fourth degree black belt with her own taekwondo school in Des Moines, Iowa, splits her time between teaching martial arts and her often inane cases. When she accepts a case to find Cheryl McGee’s kidnapped eight year old daughter, Mallory is pulled into the dark underworld of child pornography. The trail soon leads to the Quad Cities, where Mallory partners with an officer from the Special Case Squad. Mallory discovers that there’s more to the girl’s disappearance than her client let on. Adult readers will find grave issues tempered by humorous scenes.

BH: I notice one of your previous books, Night Shadows, is only available in eBook form, and I have some writer friends currently exploring publishing their manuscripts as eBooks. Can you tell us what influenced your decision to publish Night Shadows as an eBook?

SB: What influenced me? Two huge guys in black suits who slammed me against the wall, wrenched my arms behind my back, and told in calm but raspy voice that if I didn’t do as they asked, then bad things were going to happen to my collection of Batman comic books. Well, what else was I supposed to do?

Actually both books are eBooks. When I contracted with Echelon Press, they mentioned all new authors start with eBook format.

BH: You’re involved in Taekwondo – you’ve even got your own academy (click here to visit that site). How does your martial arts experience relate to your writing…or do you try to keep the two separate?

SB: Do you want to know about my experience getting knocked out at a tournament or the time I took on five guys one night outside a local bar? Oops, sorry I was dreaming there for a second. Actually I did get knocked out once, but I don’t think I suffered too many after effects. I’m sorry, what was the question? My favorite ice cream?

In Beta, I have Mallory Petersen use a lot of the skills I’ve practiced over the years. The challenge was to come up with different techniques she can use so the reader isn’t always getting the same front kick or punch. So I had to devise various scenarios where she can show off.

BH: What are you currently working on? Can you share any details?

SB: Does working on my tan count? You probably don’t care about the details. Oh, you mean writing projects.

I’ve started on a few different stories. I’m stalled in the sequel to Night Shadows trying to determine the direction of the story. The next Petersen story is finished so I’m gathering ideas for the third book. I’m also working on a thriller with a woman who uses Army Ranger skills to survive in the woods after being attacked by four men. I’ve also started (and don’t let it be passed around too much else my reputation will be totally shot. Lol) a romance. I’m hoping to collaborate with another author on this one.

BH: Which of your characters do you think is the most like you, and why?

SB: Mallory. Yes, she’s a woman, better looking, and way more talented, but she has a cool sense of humor, is intelligent, caring, and dedicated to her jobs.

BH: What does your workspace look like?

SB: Surprisingly, or maybe not so much, I do very little writing at home. I usually wait until I go to work. Since I work the graveyard shift, I rarely see anybody and I have a lot of free hours. So I’ll sit behind the desk or out in the lobby with either a notepad or the laptop. It’s quiet except when I turn on the classical music station and I’m usually not distracted by too much activity.

BH: What is your favorite book on the craft of writing?

SB: Any Dr. Seuss book. Especially Green Eggs and Ham. Awesome book.

Seriously, I tap into Todd Stone’s Novelist Boot Camp. It’s helped tremendously when I go through the editing phase.

BH: What is the best writing advice anyone has given you?

SB: “Take a hike, loser, you bother me.” Oh, wait, that was what the last girl said when I asked her to dinner. Then she proceeded to…well, we won’t get into that right now.

I think my Dad has helped me a lot. He encouraged me to keep up the writing. Also, when I’ve needed assistance, he’s told me I can pay him back “When I’m a rich and famous author.” Words like those that have kept me persevering.

BH: Stephen, thanks for visiting today! Everyone else, for more information on Stephen and his books, check out his website here, and his blog here. You can buy Night Shadows by going here. He’s also on Facebook and Twitter.

Note for weekend commenters: I’m out of town until Sunday evening, and won’t be able to moderate comments until then. This means if you’re a first-time commenter, your comment won’t show up until Sunday or Monday. Thanks for your patience!

The Lazies

Posted on September 28, 2011 by Beth Hull

I knew it would happen sooner or later. It always does. I’m working away, feeling fantastic and productive, feeling glorious, and then. BOOM. Attack of the Lazies.

It manifests slowly, sneakily. One night I might rebelliously leave all the dirty dishes in the sink, without even rinsing them off. Then instead of doing something “good,” like critiquing a friend’s manuscript, or getting a blog post ready, I’ll play a game (or fifty) of solitaire on the computer. It’s just one evening of laziness – we’ve all been there, right?

But then the next day, I don’t exercise after dropping Z off from school. I rationalize this, telling myself that having a second breakfast is more important than fainting on the elliptical machine. I further rationalize this by imagining the fainting scenario, complete with knocking myself out on the garage floor, then being unable to pick Z up at noon. And how she’ll be waiting there with her teacher, watching as all the other little kids get to go home with their parents, and “Where’s my mommy?” and how this abandonment will manifest itself in thousand-dollar therapy bills when she’s a tween.

While I eat instead of exercising, I need something to do. Reading while eating is a luxury I don’t get quite as often as I used to (i.e. every meal), so I relish a good book with a good bagel. An hour later, the bagel is long gone, but I’m at a really interesting point in this Margaret Atwood essay, so I better keep going.

Next thing I know, I have half an hour to work on my manuscript before picking up Z. So I stare at my revision to-do list for fifteen minutes. Then it’s too late to actually do anything. So I play a few games of solitaire before turning off the computer.

And so the week progresses. The dishes in the sink pile up. The mountain of monster zucchini piles up. The laundry on the designated Laundry Chair piles up. The kitchen floor is sticky, the refrigerator’s full of expired leftovers, and I don’t even make Z clean up her toys because I feel like such a hypocrite.

Nothing happens. Nothing gets done. It’s a miracle I took the time from my busy life to write this blog post.

The Monster, Part 1

Posted on September 23, 2011 by Beth Hull

Have you ever written something, a letter, story, poem, Facebook or Twitter post, and, sometime later, thought that was the stupidest thing I ever wrote? If so, you’ll empathize with me here. Of course, in my standard confessional style, I’m going to share something Private and Personal, something collected from that sticker-covered filing cabinet, something melodramatic, juicy, and juvenile.

And then I’m going to tear it apart with my Critiquer Teeth.

So. Here goes.

The Monster

Kimberly whirled first to the left, then to the right. But the monster was nowhere to be seen.1 She sensed something in the air.2 Slowly, she turned around. There was the monster, not any more than twenty feet away, it’s3 jaws dripping with saliva. It was facing to the right, it may not have seen her yet. But then slowly, agonizingly slowly, the monster turned to face her, it’s4 cruel olive green face twisted with anger.

Good, I like this in medias res, although the language could be a little more original.
What? A smell? A movement? Describe, girl!
ugh, I hate that its/it’s error, although I think we’ve all been guilty at some time or another
again?!

There was nothing for Kimberly to do. Nowhere for her to go.1 She was tied to the tree, impossibly tangled in the coarse yellow rope.2 How had she gotten here? It was all James’ fault.3 They had had a fight. Oh, how she hated it when they fought! They had been walking through the forest, with the sunlight weaving through the trees4, creating a romantic and peaceful aura. Then came the fight. The awful fight.5

By the way, where the heck is she? We should know this already.
Okay. Good. The tree…what tree? In her front yard? In a foreign country? In an alternate universe?
I think it should be James’s, not James’, but honestly I feel like a minority on following this rule, so we’ll let it slide here.
nice image
Yeah, we get that it was a bad fight, she hates fighting, and so on. MOVE ON.

It was the biggest fight that they had ever had. Kimberly thought about it and shuddered.1 James wanted her to go to college in Nevada with him, but what she really wanted was to go to Florida. They had different career interests, and there wasn’t one college that offered good classes for both.2

Really? The fight is making her shudder, and not that saliva-dripping monster in front of her? And the fight isn’t…interesting.
Yawn.

And then what happened?1 James had stomped away, leaving her alone and lost in the forest. His temper was just too much.2 His fury would blind him from thinking logically, and now look what resulted from it!3 The sorceress came and took Kimberly to her house. The sorceress needed food for her pet monster, and Kimberly was pretty handy, all alone and vulnerable. So the sorceress tied Kimberly to a tree in her back yard and left her there for – for what? What was this…thing?4

I don’t know? Are you going to further bog us down in boring backstory by telling us? Of course you are.
You know, writer, my patience is wearing thin and if we don’t get back to that monster, I might tear Kimberly apart and cook her myself.
Look at what? Did we finally remember the monster? No….
Dude, you’ve killed the tension by taking us into all this backstory. Killed it. Deader than the monster is going to be.

Slowly, the monster sauntered1 over to where Kimberly was tied up. It looked at her hungrily.2 Oh James, this is all your fault, but I won’t care as long as you save me! Kimberly prayed silently as the monster stepped up even closer.3

sauntered? This is the kind of verb used for a disinterested shopper forcing herself to browse the aisles of an auto parts store. Try stalked, if you want to really wring the melodrama out of this thing.
Other than being green with big teeth, what does this monster look like? I’m having a hard time feeling scared, picturing the one-eyed dude from Monsters, Inc.
And this is the absolute worst part of the whole story. Helpless princess in the tower syndrome. I need my man to save me. Ugh. Let’s pretend someone else wrote it.

Well kids, that’s all for this week. This’ll be a story critique in three parts. More on Kimberly’s underwhelming (un)adventure next Friday! Oh wait, no, not next Friday, I’ll be out of town. The Friday after, then! I know, the suspense! The intrigue! Try to contain yourselves.

For Part 2 of The Monster, click here.