Category Archives: good writing

SPECIAL LOOK: Out of the Ashes

 by
Sandi Rog
 

 

Last week, Charl revealed some of her early and not-so-great writing. This week, Sandi Rog addresses the flip-side of that post by giving us an excerpt from her recently published book, Out of the Ashes. The following post is taken (with permission) from Sandi’s blog Dare to Dream. You can find the original post and complete first chapter here.

The book opens with a note to my readers:

Dear Readers:

Had it not been for the Lord and the many thousands of people who prayed me through cancer, this book never would have been written. If you’re one of the people who prayed for me, thank you. Mere words aren’t enough to express my gratitude.

Having emerged back onto the writing scene after the two-year battle, and feeling rather beat up after the long fight, I needed something with a happy ending. Like a fairytale. Think Cinderella. That’s what this book is, something bright and cheerful. So, Out of the Ashes is a lighter read than my other books: The Master’s Wall, Yahshua’s Bridge, and even Walks Alone.

What a blessing it has been for me to have the strength to write Nathaniel and Amelia’s story. Thank you, precious readers, for walking with me as I dig my way out of the aftermath of this battle one step at a time. Or shall I say, one page at a time.

Blessings,

Sandi Rog

Book Jacket Description

A stranger. A kiss. A shotgun wedding.

NATHANIEL WARD, wealthy entrepreneur, needs a wife. But he’s not interested in the preening, high-society women who are offered to him on a silver platter. He wants one woman, and one woman alone: the girl who gave him all the money in her reticule years ago when the Great Chicago Fire left him destitute. He sets out to find this woman and discovers she’s unattached. There’s only one problem, a shotgun wedding may be able to bind them, but will he ever be able to win her heart?

AMELIA E. TAYLOR blows a kiss to a street rat. Little did she know, years later that kiss would follow her to Green Pines, Colorado. When a handsome stranger arrives in her hometown, she guards her heart from the stirrings this man ignites. Despite society’s disapproval of spinsterhood, she is determined not to marry, having witnessed first-hand the lack of love and horrors that accompany marriage. But will a shotgun wedding reveal blessings that arise out of the ashes?

Chapter One

Green Pines, Colorado, 1882

Gun smoke burned Amelia’s eyes and her ears still rang. She blinked the tears from her lashes.

“Do you, Nathaniel Ward,” the preacher scowled, “take Amelia Taylor to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Amelia’s father cocked his rifle and aimed it at the reluctant groom.

“I do,” Nathaniel said, his voice firm and unwavering. Despite her father’s threats, Nathaniel’s very presence exuded power, his raised chin, broad shoulders and wide chest unflinching against the barrel of the rifle.

Amelia didn’t dare look up at him. What must he be thinking? How many women had hoped to get him this far, and now, here she stood where most women dreamed of standing—shotgun wedding, or not. If only she could melt into the parlor’s wooden floor like the candle burning in the nearby lamp. Or disappear like the smoke. Disappear into nothingness, with no remnant left of her existence.

“Do you, Amelia Taylor, take Nathaniel Ward to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The preacher’s words rushed over Amelia like a gush of foul air.

She stood paralyzed, unable to speak. She’d vowed never to marry. How would she bear this cross? She’d seen enough loveless marriages in her life to know it wasn’t worth the heartache, despite the shame of spinsterhood. And now, to be forced on a man? What miseries awaited her? Abuse? Neglect? Slavery? Any man in his right mind would despise her for the rest of his days. It would be impossible—unthinkable—to procure his affection … his love.

The minister, still in his nightclothes, cleared his throat. His wife, holding up the lantern, glowered from behind him.

Amelia swallowed, darting a glance at her terrifying father. With a snarl, he narrowed his eyes at Nathaniel and pressed closer with his rifle. Would he put another hole in the preacher’s wall? Or Nathaniel’s chest?

“Amelia, girl.” Her father’s voice sent a shudder down her spine as it echoed through the quiet house. “You know, I always keep my word.” He’d threatened to kill Nathaniel if she refused to be his wife.

“I do,” she said, her voice small and trembling, quite the opposite of the man next to her. The horror, the shame. How did her life come to this?

“I now pronounce you man and wife.” The minister slammed his Bible shut and pointed it at her father. “Now get out!”

Shadows clouded Amelia’s vision, and her legs wobbled like those of a newborn calf. Her knees buckled, but rather than landing on the hard floor, she found herself caught in Nathaniel’s strong arms.

Now her husband.

You can find Out of the Ashes on Amazon and Sandi’s other works here.

Shakespeare Revamped–Not

by
Charlotte Firbank-King


Many authors from bygone days, like Shakespeare, are eschewed by writers and described as difficult to understand and boring. I took A Midsummer Night’s Dream and modernized a few lines—how boring is that version? Not to mention, clichés were all that seemed to work.

I think it loses something vital and beautiful in the translation. Writers can learn a lot from the likes of Shakespeare, Dickens and even Homer.


THESEUS
Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour
Draws on apace; four happy days bring in
Another moon: but, O, methinks, how slow
This old moon wanes! she lingers my desires,
Like to a step-dame or a dowager
Long withering out a young man revenue.

Hey, sexy Hippolyta, not long before we tie the knot, babe.
Four days before the next moon rises and the nights sure drag.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a cool time with you.
But, man, this old moon is slow to disappear, and I really have the hots for you.
That moon is like an old woman pushing my buttons.
And I don’t know how long I can hold back.

HIPPOLYTA
Four days will quickly steep themselves in night;
Four nights will quickly dream away the time;
And then the moon, like to a silver bow
New-bent in heaven, shall behold the night
Of our solemnities.

Relax, four days and nights will go in a flash.
Then a new moon will hang out in the sky like a sliver of light.
And hey, presto, we’ll be saying our vows.

THESEUS
(to PHILOSTRATE)
Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments;
Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth;
Turn melancholy forth to funerals;
The pale companion is not for our pomp.

Hey, Philostrate
Go get our Athenian buddies.
Tell then to snap out of it, catch a wakeup and organize a party.
I don’t want any long faces at our bash, like someone died.

 Exit PHILOSTRATE

I woo’d thee with my sword,
And won thy love, doing thee injuries;
But I will wed thee in another key,
With pomp, with triumph and with reveling.

Hippolyta, my darlin’, sorry I nicked you with my blade in that street rumble;
But, hey, it won your love.
I promise our wedding will be different.
I’ll show you a real good time with all the bells and whistles.

Not the same, is it? Perhaps Shakespeare is antiquated, but there is a lot we can learn from the poetic way he crafts his syntax.

What are You Reading?

by
Rhonda Browning White
I know you’ve heard it said before, “Good writers must read good books.” For most of us, this is a no-brainer. But do you realize how much what you read affects how you write? It’s true; the books and novels you read will directly impact your writing. Thus, it’s important for each of us, as writers, to read constantly and closely with the intention of improving our own writing. Author Francine Prose’s Reading Like a Writer is an excellent text on how to read with fresh eyes, to receive not only inspiration, but also instruction and technical assistance, from a great story.

What? But won’t reading with such concentration take the pleasure out of a story?

Of course not! In fact, with a little bit of effort, close reading (reading with attention to cunning plots, breathtaking sentences, suggestive detail, and other building blocks of writing) can make your reading experience more enjoyable than it has ever been. When we read a story with a keen eye on the way in which it was crafted, we learn how to apply those tricks to our own stories. Reading a powerful story in which we’ve examined every sentence—every word—seeking to understand why the author chose to use in the way she did, we can experience revelations, both about the story we are reading and about the way in which we chose our own words and phrases. We can discover new pleasures in selecting words for our own stories as we dive into the beautiful, bottomless pool of language discovery. Books and novels become our own private classrooms in which we study lessons in the art of writing. So, then, which classes shall we take?

I highly recommend starting at the top. No, this doesn’t mean we should forgo contemporary stories for Homer, Ovid and Shakespeare (though there’s much to be learned about plot and storytelling from classic literature). 

Begin with the bestseller lists. What makes those stories so popular and powerful within their genre? Read a few recent bestsellers similar to the story (or at least in the same genre that) you are writing. Find an author in your genre whose work moves you, and read everything they’ve written. Pay attention to what it is in their work that captures your attention, and try to mimic that style in your own writing. If you write mysteries, pick up this year’s edition of Best American Mysteries. (You can’t go wrong with any of the Best American series in your genre, whether it’s Best American Short Stories, Best American Essays, Best American Sports Stories, or any of their other excellent collections.) We often learn best from the books we most admire.

Study books on the craft of writing. You’ll hear our editors often tell you how important it is to continually study the craft—professional writers make a career out of studying writing and applying what they’ve learned to their own work. Personally, I read at least five or six books a year on writing craft. This week, I’m reading Jesse Lee Kercheval’s Building Fiction. Next on my list is John Truby’s The Anatomy of a Story. Other texts I’ve read and to which I frequently return for advice and inspiration include The Art & Craft of the Short Story (good advice for many forms) by Rick DeMarinis, and what may be my all-time favorite, The Lie that Tells a Truth by John Dufresne.  

Medical students watch surgeons and copy their skills and techniques in the operating room. Dancers study the moves of famous choreographers and practice until their bodies ache from effort. Professional writers study the best authors, conscious of style, diction and sentence structure, and apply those construction details to their own work. 

Reading is what real writers do. What are you reading?