Are Flashbacks Fizzling Your Fiction? Time as a Literary Device

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Kristen Lamb’s blog is a great resource for writers in any genre. Here’s a great one about flashbacks….

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One of the most common blunders I see with new authors is they botch the “flashback.” Why? Well, for starters I don’t think subjects/techniques like these get talked about in depth very often (though I could write an entire book on just flashbacks alone). This is part of why I created this Friday’s class, So You Want to Write a Novel. All the lovely stuff English class never taught you 😉 .

Additionally, many writers are mimicking what they are writing off what they “see” in movies. Problem is? Movies are a completely different medium. Film is concrete. Black letters on a white page? ABSTRACT.

But another problem with flashbacks? In my POV, the term “flashback” is far too broad.

We can mistakenly believe that any time an author shifts time, that THIS is the dreaded “flashback” I am referring to and the one I (as an editor) will cut.

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What was I going to say to a group of eighth-graders? Why do I write?

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semi finalist

Why do I write? A teacher friend of mine honored me by reading portions of my book Terra’s Call to her eighth-grade classes. She kept me informed about their continued interest and, in my excitement, I blurted out an offer to speak to her kids about writing. She accepted.

One reason I prefer writing to speaking is that my spoken words trip me up more often than not, and this time they trapped me in a commitment to speak to a group of kids who are, undoubtedly, going through the rigors of hormonal changes in addition to problems and issues that would fund a therapist’s villa in the Mediterranean, if they could afford a therapist. What words could I possibly say that would encourage them, engage them and keep their interest?

Why do I write? I could say it’s because I grew up without television, forced to read for entertainment and allowed to read anything I was able to understand, and much that I wasn’t ready for. How many of them would be able to relate to the world I grew up in, without electronics and in a land where I had to learn the language or flounder? Are there any military brats among them? Perhaps. Would I bore the rest with my accounts of a life lived long before they were thought of? Perhaps.

What if I turned the focus on them? Kids live inside their own skins. Life for some of them is all about self-preservation; survival. What gift could I leave them with? What do they need to know about themselves that they may or may not already know?

The speech formed in the middle of the night, in that realm of half-sleep where God sometimes speaks in a nearly-audible voice and ideas fall like rain, filling puddles with scenes and characters. This felt like a clear pool of light. Share my background. That’s a given. They won’t know anything about me. Why is this old lady talking to them about teenagers in her book?

Segue to a question that only they can answer. Each of the characters in Terra’s Call has a super power. What about the eighth-graders? What if they knew that each of them has at least two super powers? Can they guess what they are? If they would hang on until the end of my talk, I’d reveal the secret to them. Now what? I had a beginning and an end, so what comes in the middle?

I took a writing course where I learned that the active voice is better than the passive voice in most cases. With all the books I’ve read, you’d think I’d know that instinctively, and yes, the books I enjoy the most are written that way. The course defined my gut reaction in a way that I would later use in my writings. I passed that nugget along, with examples of the different voices. The speech was complete. What are the super powers that every young person in that room and in every room in every school shares? Stay with me and I’ll tell you at the end.

How do I define the drive, the need to express on my laptop what I can’t easily say? When the words come, the ideas flow and my characters play out scenes and conversations in my head, the pure magic of electric creativity shimmers through my fingertips. It’s happening, I celebrate and the keyboard clacks almost as quickly as I think. This is easy and I feel alive and vibrant.

And then, the crash. I’m stuck, held in a bog of a scene that goes nowhere and means nothing in the narrative. My feet, my mind, are held captive in viscous tar, and struggling only pulls me in deeper. Why do I write when I feel completely inadequate, even stupid with a void for a brain and my font of ideas runs dry? What do I do then?

I wait and pray. I spend time with my ever-supportive husband. I shop and visit family and go to the movies and meet with other writer friends for some quick exercises with prompts. I refill my empty tanks with life and love and laughter and people. And then, in the middle of the night, or perhaps while I’m driving or in the shower, the light comes on and my characters speak to me again, and I see them living their next scene. That’s how Terra’s Call happened. That’s how Triton’s Call is happening now.

When I entered my first contest with Terra’s Call, my first fiction work and the first book in the TetraSphere series, I had no expectations. I entered simply to try something I’d never done before. Imagine my surprise when I received an email informing me that Terra’s Call is a semifinalist in the published fiction for youth – young adult/new adult genre category of the 2016 Royal Palm Literary Awards competition. A semifinalist! I’m doing a happy dance right now. I can’t imagine how it would feel to be a finalist.

Why do I write? Because I share the same super powers those eighth graders have. You do, too. Here they are:

  1. Imagination. If you’ve ever spent a moment daydreaming; if you’ve invented anything or dreamed up a practical joke to play on someone or interviewed for a job or read a book or done something out of the ordinary, then you have it, too.
  2. The ability to choose your path. You can make good choices or bad choices. Your choices may be limited by your circumstance, or they might break you out of things that limit you. You have the ability to forge a path based on the choices you make.

Why do I write? I write because I have to.

 

Will they? Can they save the planet?

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(Image by Lucee)

Has anyone else noticed how weird the weather has been lately? A hurricane in January? Hurricane force winds and thirty-foot waves battering a cruise ship in February? A heatwave followed quickly by record snowfalls in the south? What does a writer do with all that?

May I get a little excited about this? It is my first, after all. The first of its kind, at least. I’ve carried it, nurtured it, shaped it, and now I’m about to birth it, and I’m excited!

It’s happening! TERRA’S CALL, the first book of the TetraSphere series, is nearly ready for publication! My first ever fiction work! What’s it about? Here’s a little hint:

Storms and earthquakes, sudden rifts in the ground and massive mudslides; the insane weather and natural disasters are escalating, and only a handful of people know the truth – a handful of people and two alien races. Mankind’s days are numbered.

Jewel Adams has abilities that forced her into a life of solitude as a young child, with only her parents as companions.  Things change during her senior year in high school, and she discovers she’s not alone when she meets the Fletcher twins and Storm Ryder. They share more than the unusual shape and brilliant colors of their eyes. They share a destiny, but do they have what it takes to fix Earth’s problems? If they fail, the fate of two planets, including Earth, hangs in the balance. Will an ancient enmity between two star systems cause their quest to fail? Will their enhancements be enough to save the planets? Are they willing to take the chance?

 

Stay tuned for the cover reveal, release date, and maybe even a give-away or two!

 

They LIVE!

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Some amazing new kids have made themselves at home in my brain. Each one clamors for individual attention. They want to be recognized, commiserated with, understood and loved. They need to make sense of their world and how they fit into it.

They speak to me and to each other in my dreams. When I awake, I remember snippets, but have lost the richness of the interaction. I try to recapture it, with limited success. They’ll fill it in for me later.

As I drive, one interrupts with an observation, and another points out a unique color in the sky.  I cannot write while driving. I ask them to remember, because I know I won’t.

While I’m showering, I see a scene as it happens. The action plays out in my mind and I forget to shave one leg in my hurry to get to the computer. Here I am, hair dripping wet, hurriedly dressed, no makeup, unwilling to move to the kitchen for some breakfast.

They have names, these characters, and personalities; histories, and gifts. In fact, they’ve given me their names. I see their faces. When I get an attribute wrong, they correct me. I’m their mouthpiece. My hands will craft it, but the story is theirs to tell. I’m only the reporter – the scribe.

Is this what it’s like to write fiction? I don’t know how it will unfold, but I now know that it will. The plot thickens, as they say, and I see obstacles and conflicts coming. My characters are smart and they will have help. The world needs saving, and they are the only ones who can do it. I believe in them.

The Creator of the Universe has given me this new family in my head, as if we don’t already have enough children and grandchildren. Truth be told, we don’t. There is always room for more.

My love of reading developed from the life God gave me as a military Brat growing up overseas. I started writing late in life, but now that the Lord has unwrapped this new gift, I can’t stop.

My characters are alive and growing. I can hardly wait to read their story.

Howling at the Moon

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I’d like to say we’re shape-shifters because that would just be cool. Sometimes I feel like one, when the dark side appears on those rare occasions. This wasn’t one of them. Imagine immersing yourself in a warm pool of shimmering talent under a full moon. You come out of the water, shake droplets from your fur… Too much? 

The truth is, we sat around a big table, eating, talking, socializing — doing what any group of people does in a private room at a restaurant. For some of us, it was the first such meeting. We were there to howl at the Moon — not as werewolves, but as writers and musicians. 

From poetry to fiction, folk tales to inspirational writing, we were encouraged, enthusiastic, entertained and excited to get to know others driven by the need to create. It was a gathering of souls intent on communicating, eager to connect as humans with something to share. 

You are vulnerable when you share your work openly among people who are, themselves, brilliantly talented. I was unsure whether I’d be willing to read to this group. What if they don’t like my writing? What if they criticize? What if they don’t laugh at what I think is funny? What if I sound like a dork? What does a dork sound like?

I had nothing to fear. Howling at the Moon is a bonding experience. I felt lifted up and encouraged. I made some new friends.

If you’re a published writer, hope to be one, or just dabble in it, I encourage you to join a local writer’s group. The two I belong to are not critique groups, but suggestions and help are offered when asked for.

The organizer gives us prompts and a set amount of time to write something — anything — that has to do with the prompt. Afterwards, we can choose to share what we’ve written or not. I can feel the old brain become more elastic as I try to meet the challenges. 

Writing is a solitary exercise, but it doesn’t mean you have to be alone to create. There are worlds to explore, friends to meet, and a big old Moon to howl at! 

IF YOU CAN DREAM IT…

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I have always believed that we can imagine only what is possible. Science fiction, fantasy and art are venues where seeds of dreams are germinated, nurtured and eventually born as reality — sometimes in our lifetimes.

In the movie MINORITY REPORT starring Tom Cruise, automobiles were automated. Imagine the technology it took to produce a Sci-Fi movie depicting non-existent technology! Yet, here we are, just a few years later…

Volvo has been testing self-driving cars in traffic in Sweden. Audi has begun a cross-country test drive in the USA of an automated car using Delphi technology. The car is traveling from the Golden Gate Bridge to midtown Manhattan. Three passengers are on board, with one in the driver’s seat in case human intervention is necessary. Mercedes and BMW are keeping up with self-driving technology of their own. Google has its own version.

In the late fifteenth century, Hieronymus Bosch painted surrealistic landscapes that seem to be depictions of another world. In one, a pink rocket sits on a rocky island in the Garden of Eden. In another, an interracial crowd cavorts without clothing among earthly animals and unearthly buildings and glass bubbles. His paintings are haunting, with flying ships, creatures that rival Tolkien’s orcs and armored fish that carry passengers. I wonder if his works inspired Salvador Dali. Today, we see the reality of much of what he imagined, in a much less twisted way. Sky ships, submarines, rockets – all commonplace today.

Leonardo da Vinci invented an early helicopter, a flying machine, the anemometer, a parachute, an armored car, a triple barrel canon, the clock, scuba gear, a revolving bridge, a robot and the precursor to the self-driving car – a self-propelled cart. Da Vinci and Bosch were contemporaries in the late 1400’s to early 1500’s.

Long before cell phones became extensions of ourselves, the crew of the Star Trek Enterprise routinely used their communicators over vast distances. Dryers seem to have mastered the art of teleportation, at least where socks are concerned. If there’s any truth to this imagination theory, we’re close to getting “beamed” to our island vacation every winter.

In James Cameron’s AVATAR, Pandora is a moon born of imagination; inhabited by extraordinary creatures, bio-luminescent landscapes and floating mountains. Could such a place exist? Is there anyone who can disprove the possibility?

We routinely fly today. We take trains that travel at super speed, drive our own vehicles, use robots, have personal computers and carry little hand-held devices that have more computing power than the linking of dozens of the room-sized computers I learned on more than forty years ago.

Anything we can imagine is possible. If that is true, then human minds cannot imagine what is impossible — even in dreams. My theory is based on nothing concrete or scientific, but it would be as difficult to disprove as to prove. How can you prove that we can or cannot conceive of the impossible? We can’t see into the future — yet.

Imagination fuels growth, inspires creativity and invention, and spills out onto paper in the hands of writers and artists. If you can dream it, it is possible. See you on Pandora!

A Musical Talent for the Non-Musically Talented

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I grew up in a family that oozes music. My Mom and siblings sing and most play various instruments. Even Dad, who claimed he couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, had a beautiful singing voice. I was the exception. The only keyboard I can play is the one I’m typing on. It took a while, but I finally discovered my own unique musical talent.

I am the audience! I offer enthusiastic applause. I clap and dance in my seat as I watch and listen to the artistry of the performance. I sing along when my voice can blend with many others. My talent is appreciation!

Here is a link to a free download of a song written and performed by Amber and Ewald and their band made up of her brothers. Their song was featured as the anthem for a multi-national Global Prayer Conference recently held at Krakow, Poland. It’s called “Standing with Israel.”

And here is an excerpt I wrote about them from my book REFLECTIONS OF A MISFIT.

Big Dreams

Our gifted niece Amber grew up in a musical family. My brother Dan’s band played our high school dances, and he and his guitar were inseparable. When he married, he and his wife Cindy had six children. Each of them learned to play an instrument or two, sang, and learned the mechanics of setting up a sound system, a stage, and recording their music. They made some wonderful CD’s as a family, and have led worship in many different venues.

Amber and her husband Ewald have produced a CD with music they wrote and performed together. She plays keyboard and he, a master guitarist, gives his guitar voice. They both sing to honor and worship the Lord.

God gave her a dream that they would one day praise God in front of a vast audience. She’s concerned that the dream is of her own making, and that her desire to fulfill it comes from pride. It seems God might have a different view.

“Good people, cheer God! Right-living people sound best when praising. Use guitars to reinforce your Hallelujahs! Play praise on a grand piano! Invent your own new song to him; give him a trumpet fanfare.” (Psalm 33:1-3)

It sounds to me as if King David was speaking directly to her! Guitar, piano, writing your own song – it’s all there. She and her husband are following God’s directions. Wouldn’t it be more prideful to refuse to use the gifts God gave them? His people need worship leaders!

“Worship God if you want the best; worship opens doors to all his goodness.” (Psalm 34:9)

If God gave her that dream of leading the worship of multitudes, he will fulfill it. When it happens, I want to be in the audience to fully participate in cheering God. I can hardly wait!

———-

It seems as if God is already fulfilling her dream with this song.

The Value of Reading to Our Kids

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Did your parents read to you when you were little? Do you remember the books they read, or the ones you might have read to your little ones? Our parents opened up worlds and dimensions, history and adventure by reading to us until we could read for ourselves.

We kids didn’t know we were supposed to read age-appropriate books. We read everything we could get our hands on. We grew up in Germany and Italy and didn’t have a television in the house. We checked stacks of books out of the post library every week, and read them all.

I read Ernest Hemingway and Robert A. Heinlein before middle school. I cried for Anne Frank and Corrie Ten Boom, and wanted so much for Scarlet O’Hara and Rhett Butler to live happily ever after. I read classics and romances, mysteries and fantasy epics. I soared over Pern on Anne McAffrey’s dragons and fell in love with the natives of Fletcher Christian’s Pitcairn Island.  I traveled to new worlds, traversed time and dimensions, and found my faith through the written word.

I found this treasure of an article with a list of 25 read-aloud books. There are some I haven’t read yet! I will, though. I certainly will. Grandkids, gather around. Gramma wants to read to you.

When Life Gets In The Way

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My husband has learned that when I start snapping at him, yelling at the commentator on the news program, or shouting at other drivers on the road when we’re traveling, I probably need to eat something. Hunger makes me cranky — sometimes before I know I’m hungry.

The same thing happens when a life event interrupts my need to write; only then it’s more like mental constipation. Words, thoughts and ideas swirl around in my mind, stirred up by a faint sense of guilt and fueled by an anxious need to get my fingers on the keyboard. Then, when I do get a moment to write, nothing comes out.

The daily tasks and schedules of life are not what I’m talking about. I welcome and heartily participate in time spent with loved ones or in pursuit of relaxation or business. It’s the other stuff; when someone is sick, or the car needs repairs. It’s when one crisis chases another in quick succession. I know you know what I mean. If your heart is beating, you’ve been there, too.

So how do we handle it when life gets in the way of our writing? I came across this post by Melissa Donovan on the Writing Forward site, entitled “The Best 22 Writing Tips Ever“.  Click on it!

I was inspired to share it with you, and so my fingers have had a little exercise on the keyboard today, and my mind is feeling much clearer, thank you.

How Reliable Are They?

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I keep telling myself, I’m a READER, not a writer! There are so many great books and talented writers out there. Who needs one more? What do I have to say that hasn’t been said much better by someone else?

Here’s a writer who struggles much the same way I do. I count her among the ones I love reading, especially now that her own self-doubt has made her dear to me.

Let her encourage you, too…

chichikir's avatarChichiKir

Helen Hanson said:

“Inspiration is the windfall from hard work and focus. Muses are too unreliable to keep on the payroll.” 

Have you seen the movie ‘The Muse’ directed by Albert Brooks, and starring Albert Brooks and Sharon Stone? It is a 1999 comedy about a neurotic screenwriter suffering from writer’s block, and his modern-day muse.

I used to believe that muse, i.e. inspiration, comes to us writers like a bolt of lightning, and at once with a feverish excitement and a twinkle in our eyes we begin to write. Well I never experienced anything like that. As a beginning writer I struggle with self doubt for days on end. That painstaking urge to believe that everything I have ever written or will ever write is a total mess haunts me like a ghost.

Writers differ in their views on almost anything related to the art and craft of writing…

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