writer's club: issue #12

8/14/2019 Writer's Club: Issue #12

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1 Writers Beat


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3 Writers Beat

The Beat

Goes On...Whats On and About on the Writers Beat Forum

A lively discussion on the importance (or lack of) coffee took

place in The Inkster Incorporatedforum:

"Coffee is a constitutiona l right. If not, it should be ."

- Gary_Wagner

"I believe co ffee is the joy of peoples mornings."

- EstherMarie

But not everyone was as enthusiastic about a morningcup o mud:

"Coffee is the devil's brew. It makes users (addicts?)

indulge in motorm outh babel while their brains are hotwired on

caffeine. First step on the road to coke, crank and the cheap

thrills of pseudo-eph edrine cold med ication."

- Sta rrwriter

Useful Writers Tip from the WB Forum:

"I came across a tip that I found helpful and thought I would pass it on.Some words you just don't need. They clutter up otherwise clean writing.

There's a list of the most frequent offenders I keep near my keyboard. Here

they are:just, really, definitely, so, even, s uch, very, at all certainly,

exactly, anyway, some.

And some unnecessary phrases: started to, began to, proceeded to.You rarely need these word s. For crisper writing, lose the unnecessary

words.You'll have more room for your story to grow."

- PiperDawn

You Really Don't Need the Word "Really"

Writer's Beat Forum, Writer's Tips and Advice

Passages

Writers Club salutesliterary giant

Kurt Vonnegut, Jr

Nov., 1922 - April 2007

Like so many Americans,

she was trying to construct a

life that made sense fromthings she found in gift

shops.

- Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

Slaughterhouse Five

Works by Kurt Vonnegut,

Jr.:Player Piano

The Sirens of TitanMother Night

Cat's Cradle:

God Bless You,

Mr. Rosewater

Slaughterhouse-Five

Welcome to the Monkey House


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4 Writers Beat

Writers Beat

Monthly Contest

WinnersNon-Fiction Category

BATHING AU NATURELStarrwriter

For several years I bathed in thebosom of nature.

My first natural bath was a

waterfall pool in the tropical

rainforest on the island of Maui. I

lost hot water in my house when the

family that delivered propane gaswent out of business in the remote

area. Rather than take cold sho wers,

I decided to carry a bar of bath soap

and a towel to the pool below my

property.

The pool water was

refreshingly cold. I would strip

naked, jump in and gasp as my bod y

adjusted to the temperature. Then I

would lather up and dive under the

waterfall, breathing a fine mist rising

from the splashing water.

The pool was far enoughaway from the road that no one could

see me except wild animals -- birds

and the occasional mongoos e or wild

boar. My neighbors beg an calling me

"nature boy" and I felt like a Hindu

Brahmin performing his daily

ablution to the gods.

Later I built my own house

on the Big Island where I had

purchased three acres of rainforest

property. My only water source was

rain catchment from my roof into a

redwood storage tank.I ran a garden hose from the

tank to a gully. Using gravity feed, I

took cold showers beneath a tall ohia

tree that flowered twice a year. I

rinsed my hair with the sap of

shampoo ginger, a better hair

conditioner than any store sells.

Although my outdoor

shower "stall" was a long walk from

the road through dense rainforest, I

was interrupted once by a fetching

young lady who came for a surprise

visit. She was embarrassed, but I

only smiled. I finished my shower

while she talked with her back turned

to me. After I dressed, we drove to

the other side of the island and

camped on the beach that night.A few years later I came

down with a bad case of

"civilization." I built a tiny bath

house, installed an on-demand

propane water heater and a 12-volt

water pump, and I began taking hot

showers like everyone else. It

represented a fall from the state of

grace.

Now I live in the big city of

Honolulu where taking showers

outdoors is prosecuted as the

criminal offense of indecentexposure. City dwellers don't r ealize

what they are missing.

Fiction Category:

MAN ON THE MOONStarrwriter

My father was a hypocrite. When Iturned eight, he made a big show of

promising never to use physical

punishment with me again. Two

years later he kicked me down aflight of stairs for breaking a

window. From that point on I

despised him.

The last time I saw him was

the day Neil Armstrong walked on

the moon. I was just out of Air Force

boot camp when he invited me to

visit him and his new wife, Ruth.

I soon realized the visit was

a mistake. The night of the moon

walk my father got v ery drunk after

Ruth went to bed and he started

harassing me about my recent

divorce.

"Weren't you man enough

to keep your marriage going?" he

asked insultingly.

When he bragged aboutseducing a neighbor, something

snapped inside me. The next

morning I told Ruth about his

philandering and packed my things

to leave. I was backing my car out of

the driveway when my father rushed

out of the house to stop me.

"You stabbed me in the

back," he said incredulously.

"You asked for it," I said

and drove away.

He died five years later.

Poetry Category

THE PERILS OF

ONLINE SHOPPINGJosie Henley

There was a young woman fromVickers,

Who ord ered a new pair of Kickers.

She paid for a parcel

But regretted the hassle

When the box revealed three frilly

knickers.

Be sure to

enter the

Writers Beat

Monthly Contests!


5/22

5 Writers Beat

Misused,

Misplaced

andMisspelled:Spelling,

Grammar

and

Mechanics

Azael S., Hakeem S., Mridula C.,

Taya L ., Tina C.

Its not easy being a critic. Forgetthe fact that we have a weekly quota

of critiques to do; we often have to

trawl through travesties of the

English language. Lets be frank. If

you are taking the effort of writing

something, the very least you can do

is respect the language you are

writing in. Granted, not everyone is

a grammar expert, but a line mustbe

drawn when the basic upshot of a

story is:n den d a lil gurl liek totilly fel 4

dat guy hu woz liek sooooooo hot *faints*

Maybe we're exaggerating and

thats on the farther spectrum of

things, but that does not mean we

should ignore the b etter ones.

A discussion of our pet peeves

made us realise that an article

highlighting common faults we find

while critiquing would help. It

mushroomed from there and we are

now proud to present Misused,

Misplaced and Misspelled, a seriesof articles that will tackle several

issues from grammatical errors to

character development.

Without further ado, we bring you

Misused, Misplaced and Mis spelled:

Spelling, Grammar and Mechanics .

Writing Mechanics

Commas

Commas are the simplest of

tools; we barely notice theirexistence. But if you pay more

attention, you would notice that

without them writing is nothing.

While reviewing a piece of

writing posted on the boards, we

occasionally have to comment on the

same things: misplaced commas,

comma splices, serial commas, and

unnecessary commas. It is of crucial

importance that you proof-read your

work before putting it up for

reviewcorrecting your mistakes

will drain the critic, so lets justagree that it's your jo b.

How t o spot a comma splice:

Skim your writing, stopping at

every comma. If there are two

complete sentences at both sides,

then you have a comma splice.

Before anyone sees you, change the

comma to a period and act as if

nothing happened.

It is notnecessary that you change

it to a period; there are o ther ways offixing this horrendous mistake. Try

to replace the comma with a semi-

colon, use other punctuation, or

simply re-word, playing with the

clauses at hand.

Serial commas?

A serial comma, also called an

Oxford comma, is the one placed

before the last item in a list. We

know that you were taught otherwise

in school, but this is the real world. The first, the second and the third,

and the fifth book.

Journalists do not abide by serial

commas, but yo u most certainly have

to because most publication houses

prefer its use.

Unnecessary commas:

Admit it already; we know that

you like to put a comma between

every word.

O Do not write a comma after

Like and before Such as.

O Commas are not placed

before parentheses, b ut you

are free to write one after

them.

O Between most double

adjectives, a comma is not

necessary to use.

What you need to realize is that

writing is different from speech. You

may be tempted to use commas toindicate pau ses, mimicking the way

we talk thinking that its going to

make your w riting believable well

it is quite the contrary. Speech is

something, and prose is another.

Abide by the comma rules, and you

shall be safe.

Dialogue Punctuation

Nothing vexes us more than a

piece of dialogue not properly

punctuated. When writing dialogue,pay close attention to every comma,

period, question mark, exclamation

point, and especially quotation marks.

From The Chicago Manual of

Style, 15th Edition:

Periods and commas precede

closing quotation marks, whether

double or single Typographical

usage dictates that the comma be

placed inside the [quotation] marks,

though logically it often seems not to

belong there The same goes for

the period. Question marks andexclamation points are placed inside

the quotation marks only when they

are a part of the quoted matter.

You know, said is not the only

speech tag in the world. Try to make

your dialogue more lively and

believable by using other tags. That


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6 Writers Beat

being said, you can use saidafter a

question mark. (Am I an idiot? you

said.)

Keep in mind that dialogue is

primarily a tool to help d evelop andmove the plot. Do not overwrite it!

Speech Tags:

There are four types of tags:

speech tags, action tags, thought

tags, and description tags. You may

write, I love you, Jack grinned,

but that is purely incorrect. If you

think about it, you will conclude that

you cannot grin and talk at the same

time! Therefore, the cor rect version

of both the speech tag and the action

tag would be I love you. JackgrinnedorI love you, Jack said.

To show direct thoughts (that

little voice, which speaks inside your

head), use italics or simply

underlining. Make sure you use a

thought tag: " I suppose I got this

right, Jack though t."

You can also let your reader

know more about the characters

personality by using body language

and facial expressions. You use

description tags for this.

I love you. Jack turned hishead, feeling ashamed.

Ellipses and Dashes

Ellipsis points (which are three

periods not seven) are not used when

a speech is interrupted, but used

when the speaker is at loss of words.

It can also be used to portray

hesitation or stuttering. You use four

periods when the ellipsis is at the end

of a sentenceno, the fourth periodis not included within the ellipsis; itisonly the full stop at the end of any

sentence, you fool. (We say either an

ellipses, o rellipsis points.)

An em dash is equal to the width

of two hyphens. We use it when we

want to set something apart from the

main sentenceplacing emphasis on

what is after itor when the flow of

a sentence is strongly broken. An en

dash is half the width of an em dash.

This one is u sed to indicate a certainrange between dates and numbers.

Please bear in mind that no space

precedes or follows an em or en

dash. (You do know why they were

named like this, don't you?)

Another thing; the overuse of

dashes is a sign of inexperience or

amateurish writing. Do not say we

did not warn you.

Numbers in Writing:

Serial numerals that are reallylong are not spelled out; it would tire

the reader. Don't say one thousand

two hundred and fifty six pages for

an example, simply write 1,256

pages. Remember, you must put

commas after every third digit from

the right or it will be hard to read.

Dates are not spelled out and the

numerals are written. H owever, don't

begin your sentence with numerals;

always u se words.

Capitalizing Titles:

If you want to post a story on

the boards, please make us look good

and capitalize the title properly.

You capitalize everything in a

title except for articles (a, an, the),

prepositions, and conjunctions. Be

careful though, the first and last

words are always capitalized no

matter what. Subtitles are not

different; they follow the same rules.

Punctuation in Poetry

As was already said, in poetry

there are no rules for grammar, but to

facilitate reading, think of how the

poem should be read. Even if your

idea is the best one ever, if the

grammar is bad, no one will know

The Beat

Goes On...Whats On and About on theWriters Beat Forum

Free-Writing: a spotlight on

short works

Capturing the

Momentby T-Mania

Something happened. It

didn't just happen like that out

of the blue. There were events,

people , decisions, action, and

mistakes leading up to the

moment, culminating in that

apex that purpo rts to explain

the chain of cause and effect.

Emotions w ere involved,

decisions made, conversations

exchanged, and plans

executed. The atmosphere,

the psychology, the tension,

the cu rious stares, everything,

rushing up to that moment,

waiting to break loose, is

necessary to capture the

moment.

Something happened.

That's just the beginn ing, the

first sentence that invites us

back in time, back through the

chain of cause and effect, to

the beginning, to the

explanation, to the cause if

there's such a thing. Captur ing

the moment really is capturing

the series of causes leading upto the effect; that is, one must

capture moments to capture

the moment.

- Posted on theFree Writing

forum, Rough Draft section

on Writers Beat


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7 Writers Beat

how to read your poem to get the

best out of itit is as valuable as a

piece of paper with scribbles.

Commas are used to either make

a stop or to tell the reader, This iswhere the thought for this line ends.

Avoid using commas too much; in

poetry, a comma could b e substituted

by ending the line. Periods are not

used much in poetry, unless it is the

end of a stanza. Periods tell the

reader to make a stop. If used in the

middle of a stanza, it could mess up

the poems flow. There are no

periods in the middle of a line.

Period.

Spelling and Grammar Usage

Whether or not you weather this

storm of advice is up to you.

Misspelled words are often a writers

bane. While computer spellcheckers

root out several errors, they do not

a l w a y s p i c k u p o n

e v e r y t h i n g p a r t i c u l a r l y

homoph ones. For the less-informed,

homophones are words that sound

similar and are hence often misused.

Similar, but just not the same!

Effectis a noun and is therefore the

'subject or object' of the sentence.

The ef fect was startling. Affect, on

the other hand, is a verb and

therefore is the 'action' in a sentence

and should be used like this: Th evirus is destructive and can af fect the

heart mu scle.

Past is an adjective, which is

used to 'describe or modify' a noun

(see above.) Things have beenterrible in the past year. However,

Passedis a verb: The bullet passed

right by him.

Exceptis conjun ction; it means 'if

not' or 'unless'. All the King's ho rses

are white, except for Dobbin, who

was technically a pony. Acceptis a

verb and should be used like this:

Jenny could not accept Jeremy's

proposal of marriage.

Alter (verb) means to change

something; Altar (noun) a table orsurface where religious ceremonies

are conducted. Jack altered the

altar's height by a co uple of inches,

so next time; it would be easier for

him to rea ch the sac rificial virgin.

Allusive and elusive are not the

same. I say, My girlfriend is so

allusive; she's always asking w hether

I like kids or not. Allusive is used

when someone's speech/actions

contain hidden meanings or

intentionsnot necessarily ill

behaved. Elusive is quite different; it means

subtly mischievous: When I prepare

different exam papers so my students

cannot cheat, I am b eing elusive.

People sometimes write illusive

instead ofelusive, and that is not just

a spelling mistake.Illusive is a word

that describes a devious person, a

trickster. (The negative side.)

Therefor is not a misspelled

therefore ; the former is the ancient

meaning for "for". We t rust that you

know the latter; therefore, we are notgoing to say any thing.

Timberand timbre have nothing to

do with British/American usage.

Timberis that thing your hut is made

of, while timbre is the distinctive

trait of a complex sound. To avoid

confusion, the latter is occasionally

referred to as a "vocal timbre". Yeah

I know; we have m usical experts on

the beat!

The old wether(a castrated male

sheep) was wondering whetheror not

the weatherwas going to get worse.What do you think?

And our p ersonal favorite:Desert

(noun), which generally means a

sandy piece of land with very little

water. Dessert (noun) - meaning

something with whipped cream,

glace cherries and preferably

chocolate sauce!

And remember, its i before e

except after c. So, its chief, not

cheifand receive , not recieve.

Other commonly misused andmisspelled words are: stair and stare,

whole and hole, stationary and

stationery, practice and practise,

maybe and may be, night and knight,

knew and new, and great and grate,

not to mention several others. The

only way to get past this problem is

by reading a lot. Above all, if you are

not sure how to spell a word, go

open a dictionary.

Speaking of which, heres a

handy tip for getting its and it's right.

Whenever you are contemplatingwriting it's, decide if you could

replace it with it is, because that is

what its with an apostrophe means.

If you can't, then it must be its.

So for instance, in this sentence:

Its a joy to watch a hawk dive after

its prey.

Can you say, "A hawk dived after

it is prey?" No way! Therefore, no

apostrophe. You can also use this

trick for wasnt (was not), havent

(have not) andshouldnt(should not).

Remember, the more grammaticallycorrect your story is, the more likely

you are to get feedback. And for the

love of all that is sacred, please do

not expect anyone to w aste their time

correctingyourspelling errors.

Structuring Sentences

Several novice writers do not

know how to structure a sentence.

Its easy if you think about it

logically. Every sentence hasone subject and one predicate. A

subject is the part of a s entence about

which something is said. A predicate

is the part of a sentence that says

something about the subject.

Confused? Here is an example:

(Continued)


8/22

8 Writers Beat

The Beat

Goes On...

Whats On and About on the

Writers Beat Forum

A random pick from the

Poetry Forum:

Summer Day- Poemgirl

Dripping sweat,

sun burnt nose,

blistered hands,

tired feet.

Shady grove,

shallow pool

cool and sweet,

splashing in

What relief!

Work hard, yet

at times, stop.

See this day,

cream-blue sky,

quiet fields,

gurgling stream

open lilies,

singing birds.

Summer days

are not here

forever

so pause, stop

and listen

Leopards are excellent hunters.

Here, leopards is the subject and

the predicate is are excellen t hunters.

As long as your sentence has asubject and a predicate, you should

be fine. However, dont forget

fragments. Those are sentences

where there is either no subject, or

no predicate. Sentences where

thoughts are left incomplete are also

classified as fragments.

Examples:

The young boy. (No predicate)

Ran to his mother. (No subject)

If he had not found her.

(Incomplete thought)

Fragments are very valuable forcreating an impact. Needless to say,

if you insist on over-using them, you

are killing a useful tool. You alone

are to be blamed if you still go ahead

with the fragment-attack

Grammar Exercises

Dont groan! Were not forcing

you to do this, though if you are one

of the reasons for this article, you

should already be pulling out a pen

and paper , or opening that documenton your computer. Here are some

exercises for you to check if you

have learnt an ything f rom this article.

Answers are at the end of the issue.

Punctuat e the following:

Phe bought fruits and

vegetables books and pens

Pwhen the drunk husband

stumbled into their house hiswife was furious

Pbefore he did anything Daniel

Fischer asked the girl would

you go o ut with me

Peveryone can write not as

perfectly as Paris Hilton and

get published

Pwoman without her man is

nothing

Make corrections:

P It is recommended thatwriters persue a career as

columnists.

P His attempts to escape his

fa t he rs t y r rany were

desparate.

P The desert was magnificent!

It was complements from

the cheif.

P The occurence of any

developement can yeild

good results.

P At my house, eating brocolli

is an in dispensible fate.

If it were up to us, we would make

grammar and s pelling so sacred that

by messing them up, you would be

breaking a cosmic rule.

Unfortunately, we dont have any

axe to follow you around with.

Instead, we are going to settle by

giving you all of the advice above.

Don't get us wrong though; we are

not trying to make writing harder,

but sometimes it enrages us to see

the language mishandled. After all,

this is a writing forum!

For Answers, see page 11

"The great art

of life is the

sensation, to feel

that we exist,

even in pain."

-Lord Byron


9/22

9 Writers Beat

Joyce:A Portrait

of the Artist as a

Young Manby Taya L.

Every now and then, a naggingvoice in the back of my head tells me

I should be reading more edifying

books than the ones that currently

grace my bookshelf. The voice tells

me my next book should be one of

those classics that fill book club

reading lists. Ive never liked that

particular little voice. Dont get me

wrong, those classics arent all bad.But I never liked being told what I

should read.

On March 16th, that voice got

itself a microphone and so I decided

to tackle James JoycesA Portrait of

the Artist as a Yo ung Man . Ill admit

that Im cheating a bit; this isnt the

first time Ive cracked th e binding on

a copy of Portrait. But the last time

around I was on the verge of

graduating from high school and I

was finding my English class a bit

tedious.P o r t r a i t i s a

s e m i - a u t o b i o g r a p h i c a l w o r k

published in 1916; the footnotes

kindly included in my Penguin

Classics edition make it clear that

many of the characters are near

carbon-copies of Joyces college

chums and Joyce himself appears in

the form of an alter-ego named

Stephen Dedalus. The choice of this

name is an important one. Another

Stephen, this on e from biblical times,

was martyred and became the firstChristian saint. Daedalus is a master

craftsman of Greek mythology. He

built King Minos great maze to

house the Minotaur but when Minos

refused to let him dep art from Crete,

he created waxen wings for himself

and his son, Icarus, to fly away on.

As is well known, Icarus flew too

close to the sun, the wax melted and

he fell into the sea. Because Stephen

is also son of a Dedalus, Stephen can

therefore be both Daedalus, the

artist, and Icarus, the fallen man, theone who committed hubris. The fire

and water imagery associated with

this myth pervades the five sections

ofPortrait.

The plotline follows Stephens

life in Dublin from early childhood

through his years at a Jesuit boarding

school and then on to university.

Told in an elu sive manner that leaves

much unsaid, a reader without a

considerable amount of knowledge

of early 20th century Irish history

may find it difficult to understandwhat Stephen is experiencing.

Charles Stewart Parnell, the political

leader, has a great impact on young

Stephen, but he remains a shadowy

figure, referred to at dinner table

conversations, an image in Stephens

mind that is never fully articulated.

Equally vague is the Dedalus

familys, particularly Mr. Dedalus,

position. Frequent removals to

progressively poorer sections of

Dublin let on that Stephens father isin financial trouble, but young

Stephen was left in the dark and so

too, therefore, is the reader.

Despite the murky nature of the

narrative, one thing becomes

extremely clear: Stephen doesnt

know what to do with his life. He

struggles with religion, philosophy,

beauty, politics, sin and Irish

nationalism. He rebels against the

conventions he is brought up with

a n d h e s e e k s i n t e l l e c t u a l

individuality. There is no middleground in his psychology and

actions; when he commits, it is fully

done. For instance, in the third

section of the novel, he is convinced

that he is so very damned that he

should die for his sins. Then, pages

later in the fourth section, he

considers himself to be so very pious

that he should die for his excessive

purity. And you tho ught John Kerry

was wishy-washy. In short ,

everything in Stephens life has

fallen short of his expectations andhe must f ind something else to give

himself to.

This something else comes in the

form of art. The church is

abandoned; St. Stephen is trampled

by Daedalus; Stephen leaves for

Paris to pursue his calling as an

artist. Though a read er may welcome

this conclusion, the final sentence of

the novel is an ominous one.

Old father, old artificer, stand

me now and ever in good stead.

Here Stephen is Icarus, askingDaedalus for help. But we must

remember that the last time Daedalus

aided Icarus, it ended with the young

man drowning.

A Portrait of the Artist as a

Young Man is not an easy read. And

re-reading it was no easier. The


10/22

10 Writers Beat

Rules For CritiquingExcerpt from Guidelines for Critiquing

Posted byLacy, Writer's Beat forum, Writing Tips & Advice

TAlways be kind and considerate when making a critique statement. Respect and support your fellow

writers. We are all in the same boat and no one person has the paddle.

TWhen offering critiques, please follow the rules: no profanity or personal at tacks.

TRemember that unless you are a trained Editor critiquing apolished work for pub lication, your critique is

only a suggestion to help someone work on a draft. They do NOT have to accept your word as law.

TWhenever possible, try and present your comments as an experienced opinion rather than gospel or law.

Many writers join critiquing groups and forget that everyone is just learning. No one has all the answ ers.

Steven K ing was told that his writing was so horrendous that he shou ld just stop writing all together and get

a real job.

TComments such as "This is how it has to be," or "you have to do it like this" are not constructive. Instead

say, " this is what I would do ", or "could it maybe be said this way?"

TBe honest in your reviews bu t at the same tim e be thoughtful. You are not here to point out every little

nit pic or mistake the writer has made. You are here to nurture and support the writer while helping one

another to grow and learn.

___________________________

Source, as cited in the original thread:The Allyn & Bacon Handbook. 1999

For the rest of this informative post, see the thread Writing Tips & Advice on the Writers Beat forum.

narrative style makes it difficult to

connect with the characters and I

found that I was reading it with the

intent of turning pages rather than

savoring the experience. However,many of the scenes are really quite

brilliantly done and there is no

question that Joyce was a master of

language.

In the end, I suppose I should

say Im glad I took on Portrait one

more time, but I have to admit that

statement wouldnt be completely

true. Sure, I got a lot more out of it

the second time around and I

understand why its considered one

of the greatest novels of the 20th

century, but in terms of my personaltastes it will never be cherished like

some books I own.

Joyces World

Interested in learning about theman behind this story, James

Augustine Aloysius Joyce? Check

out:

www.themodernword.com/joyce.

Readers Speak Out

Reviewers on B arnes and Nobles

website gavePortraitfive out of five

stars, comparing Joyce to literary

giants like Homer and Shakespeare.

Amazon customers were slightly

more critical, giving Portrait fourout of five stars.

WB

...you can't writeinteresting stories until

you have lived an

interesting life. That

means taking risks in life

as well as in writing.

- Starrwriter

How I Became a Fiction Writer

WB forum,Inkster Incorporated

__________________


11/22

11 Writers Beat


12/22

12 Writers Beat

Characters

That

BreathePart 1By Tina C

No matter what genre you prefer, allwritten characters come from the

same premi sePeopl e . Any

character you create, if it doesnt

have that people factor your

characters will seem flat and u nreal

to your reader. It is easy to believe

that because each and every human

being has a different appearance

from the next, and has differing

personality traits that you can be

lacking in the consideration of y our

character. You would be wrong. It

sticks out like a sore thumb. Here are

some things to consider when you

are creating your hero, arch enemy or

sidekick.

Describing PhysicalAppearance

Tall, dark and ugly is fine, bu t it

is all too easy to give a list of hair

and eye colour, the style, type and

colour of clothes. However, a long

list is boring and your readers will

pick up on it. Keeping it simple

allows the reader to fill the gaps with

their imagination.

In the Dragons of Pern series,

author Anne McCaffrey describes

one of her main characters Flar, as

a dragon rider whose dark fringe

flopped into his eyes and who

smelled faintly of leather. Oh be still

my beating heart! Som etimes simple

is sexy.

If you cant keep it simple then

imagine for a moment you are

standing on an empty street. Then,

from around the corner someone

appears. Yes, you will notice what

they look like, but you will also start

t o make j udgement s aboutthem...Hark, I hear cries of, No I

dont...Im not prejudicial!

Unfortunately the truth is, yes you

are. We all are. The urge to prejudge

is built into our most basic of

instincts, which is, Do I need to be

afraid of this person? It is the fight

or flight instinct.

W e d o t h i s

subconsciously all

the time. This is

n o t t h e o n l y

question we ask. Inorder to make a

j u d g e m e n t o n

threat, we also ask,

What does their

appearance mean?

For example,

if I had just robbed

a shop, had a TV

in my arms and the

person who came

around the corner

was in a policeuniform, to me it

c o u l d m e a n

trouble. On the

other hand, if a serial rapist had just

chased me down deserted alleyways,

the sight of a police uniform would

be more of a com fort.

As a writer you must consider

what your characters appearance

means to your reader and to your

other characters.

Play with it. Just think of all the

fun you can have turning this on itshead. It is much more interesting if

after being chased by the serial

rapist, I run over to the policeman

and discov er that hes sixteen, drunk

and going home after a fancy dress

party or the policeman is the serial

rapists partner in sexual deviance.

Let Your Characters

Show Their Story

There are so many articles andthreads on Writers Beat on this

subject that I am loath to mention it

again, but...show, dont tell! Take a

look at these two examples,

Alan was so envious of John he

wanted to spit. He had Joa nie and a

fantastic flame-red Ferrari. John

seemed to have

everything Alan

did not.

In this

e x a m p l e , t h e

writer is tellingthe story, but that

makes Alan a

very dull boy.

G e t y o u r

characters up and

moving! This is

what the reader

paid their hard

earned cash for.

Characters who

do things are

alive.

Alan stuffedhis clenched fists

into his jacket

pockets, smiled

and nodded his

farewells to John and Joanie. He

watched the flame-red Ferrari turn

out of the driveway. Out of sight, the

smile fell from his face. He sniffed

hard, turned and spat green mucus

onto their snot coloured lawn.

Hopefully, you can see that

Alans actions mean exactly the same

as the previous example, but thistime he is much more interesting.He

isshowingthe reader the story.

Characters with

Developmental

Problems!(Continued)


13/22

13 Writers Beat

In 99% of all fiction the

protagonists personality grows. The

reader expects it. Your protagonist

needs to change and develop if they

want to have a reader who believesin them and has sympathy for them.

If your hero remains the same from

page one to page six hundred and

one, they will be incredibly boring.

For example, let us look at an

archetypal hero character: Buzz

Lightyear. Now Buzz, at the

beginning of the movi e Toy Story, is

a heroic Space Ranger. No one

doubts it as all his actions and

dialogue shows us this. However, he

is flawed. He is completely

delusional, but over the course of thefilm, his character begins to realise

that not all is at it seems and his

character develops and grows along

with the plot. This is what makes

Buzz a sympathetic character. It

doesnt matter that he is a toy or a

d i g i t a l l y e n h a n c e d b i t o f

animationBuzz lives for one hour

and thirty minutes!

The starting point is the flaw.

Every protagonist needs something

they struggle with. It enables the

reader to relate to them. It makesthem human (even Buzz). However,

they key is growth. Over the course

of your story the character must

show how they are overcoming this

flaw. If Buzz remained the same all

the way through the film he would

become very annoying.

Now conversely, antagonists

dont have to have a personality that

grows. Lets go back to our serial

rapist. Your story might start when

he is eighteen and just stalking his

victims. Throughout the plot his behaviour progresses from just

stalking to physical assault, to rape

and eventually murder. That is

definitely growth. But a serial rapist

who commits rape and murder in the

first chapter and does it again and

again throughout thirty-three

chapters is perfectly acceptable.

Too Much,

Too Little,Too Late

Whether you are describing your

character, putting them into action or

making them grow, it is all about

revealing your characters in

measured amounts. This is not easy.

If there is too much de tail, you will

slow the pace in your story and put

the reader too sleep. Too little and

there is not enough for the readers

imagination to build a realistic

character. If too late, your reader will

have moved on to the next book on

the shelf!

e e e e e e e

Ten questions to ask

your characters1. W hat is distinctive about their

appearance?2. Wh at does that say about them?

3. What do they do during a normal

day?

4. What things do th ey like/hate?

5. What is their favourite

saying/phrase?

6. What is their most common

habit?

7. How would they react if

_________ ? (fill in the

blank).

8. How w ould they feel?

9. What would they say?10. What do they want most in life?

____________________________

(End o f Part I. Be sure to look for

Characters That Breath in our next

issue)

WB


14/22

14 Writers Beat

WB

Critics

ChoiceFebruary & March 2007

Well! The nominations and scoring

are finally done and finding our

winners was a very tough decision. It

was close to the wire all the way! But

that is what we expect from a forum

full of very talented people. The

standard and quality of writing is

fantastic to see.

We critics would like to

congratulate the winners and thank

all our members for contributing

their wonderful work to the site and

for giving us some fantastic reading.

February winner:

Surfing Talesby Starrwriter

I never tried to learn board surfing

for a couple of reasons.

I have a lousy sense of balance.

At different times in my life I tried

other sports that required good

balance like riding a surfboard -- ice

skating, roller skating, skiing. I

couldn't do any of them.

Board surfing is also dangerous. I

knew two surfers who suffered

extensive injuries when they were hit

in the head by their own surfboa rds.

Frank was an Air Force buddy. He

raved about the joys of surfing, but

one day he reached in his mouth and

pulled out his upper front teeth. It

was a partial bridge of false teeth.

His real front teeth had been knocked

out by his surfboard.

For s ome reason the sight of false

teeth and bare gums in a young

person like Frank horrified me. I

suppose it made me think of

premature old age and death. All at

once I was afraid of surfboards.

A few years later the case of

another surfboard victim convinced

me to stay away from the damn things.Mark was a hapa-haole (part

Hawaiian) young man who worked

in the composing room of the Maui

newspaper where I was a reporter.

He was mellow, soft-spoken and

pleasant to work with. Although he

enjoyed surfing, he was the anti-

thesis of surf Nazis -- maniacs who

had no real life on dry land.

One day Mark had a surfing

accident that changed his life. In a

bad wipeout his board struck his

head, fracturing his skull and causingbrain damage. He was in the hospital

for weeks and when he was finally

released, he wasn't the same person.

The new M ark was fine physically,

but the brain injury affected him

emotionally. He spoke too loudly

and used a different kind of

language. He seemed agitated and

unhappy. He lost his job because he

couldn't concentrate. His friends

thought he was too weird and bailed

on him. He either didn't notice or he

didn't care. He lived in his ownworld, which obviously wasn't a

good place.

It was a tragedy and I felt sorry for

Mark.

But I loved the ocean and I

couldn't stay away from it, so I took

up diving and eventually body

surfing. Laying down in a wave

doesn't require a good sense of

balance and the ride gives you a

thrill similar to board surfing.

One day some friends and I went

to a remote beach in Wailea, Maui,

(now occup ied by a huge resort.) The

surf was ideal -- perfect form and 4

to 6 feet high, which is big enough

for a great ride but small enough toavoid serious injury if you "went

over the falls" or wiped out.

I went out around noon and

started catching wav es. I didn't have

to paddle for position, they simply

picked me up and carried me all the

way to the beach. Every hou r or two

I went back ashore to drink a quick

beer, then returned to the surf. By the

time I left the water for good the sun

was dipping below the horizon.

It was the most perfect day of

body surfing I ever experienced. Ifelt exhilarated and serene at the

same time. It was the first time I truly

understood why people surf in spite

of its dangers. When you encounter

ideal conditions, the ocean caresses

you with a power you can feel in

your bones. The surge of water is

like a pleasant electric tingle and y ou

never forget the magical rush.

Later on I pushed my luck and

went body surfing in waves that were

too big (10-15 feet). I nearly

drowned twice before I learned mysize limit and I continued body

surfing for years.

I don't body surf any longer.

Getting old and all that. Now I stick

to free diving and spearfishing in

calm water. You can't see the fish

very well in churned-up surf.


15/22

15 Writers Beat

What the critics saidAs always, I find his writing flawless.

I think the ending is a little bit

disapp ointing, but the whole p iece is

perfect.

What can I say the guy can write.

Wonderful!

Excellent description, flawless

writing.

March Winner:

Scissorsby OnceUponATime

(Warning:. Rated R for excessive

violence, gore and strong language.)

Derek watched the light wink on inthe second floor window of Emily's

house. As much as he enjoyed her

company, the time had co me for him

to collect his reward.

Her skin.

"Hmmmmm... not too bad," Sheri

said to herself after reading what

she'd just written. She leaned back

from her keyboard and sighed. Her

back ached, yet she was unable to

stop writing, and her eyes wept from

staring at the screen far too long.

Massaging her fingertips, she

returned them to the keys. Sheri

couldnt quit now, even if she

wanted to. Derek, her serial killer,

was stalking his first victim.The house around her remained

quiet, save for the clicking of keys

and occasional tiny blip from her

computer. Her cat, Solomon, twined

around her legs in a bid for attention.

She gave him a quick scratch on his

ear. "Chill out, Sol. Ill feed you as

soon as Im don e with this section, I

promise."

He meowed, and she detected a

note if irritation. T hen again, maybe

shed been awake far too long. Times

like these were rare, though. Whenthe Muse finally called, Sheri

answered the damn phone.

She typed on; her mind caught up

in her unfolding tale. Then, an hour

later, she paused and noticed a

headache brewing. She massaged her

temples and re-read Chapter Two.

Derek checked the front door

and the doorknob turned easily. He

gave a no d, satisfied. Emily grew up

in a small town where they didntuse locks. Shed told him so.

Pity.

He crept into the house, setting

each foot down with care onto the

clean tile floor. Emily didnt like

carpet shed told him the day

before that a rug was hard to keep

clean.

Somewhere, deep in the house, he

heard the sound of an appliance

churning. A dishwasher, perhaps.

Positive that the machine made

enough noise to cover his footsteps,he ventured further in, past an

ornate mahogany grandfather clock

and a ta ble covered with a collection

of porcelain piggy banks.

How odd, he thought and

suppressed the urge to laugh. E mily

collects pigs.

A floorboard upstairs creaked

and he froze, listening. Emily moved

about, maybe preparing to take a

shower. Hed watched her through

the window of the house across thestreet for several days running and

knew that she showered several

times a day. Her bedroom window

stayed open, affording him an

excellent view. The walls groaned as

water rushed upward through rusty

pipes.

"Thats my girl," he whispered

and licked his kips. "Right on

schedule."

Emily feared germs like others

feared rapists and m urderers. He felt

a rush of pleasure knowing that hedsoon bring an end to her suffering.

Calculating from memory, he

estimated the time it would take for

her to undress and step into the

shower. She would stand beneath the

steaming water for at least ten

minutes before she began to scrub

herself. He had p lenty of time.

He slipped into the kitchen.

Solomon jumped up on Sheris

desk and set o ne of his velvety black

paws on the keyboard, typingmmkljnk. She laughed and hoisted

him off the keys and got up to carry

him to the bedroom door. He felt

heavy, warm and fuzzy in her arms,

and for a moment, she buried her

face in his fur. When s he looked up,

the digital clock on the nightstand by

her bed told her that shed worked

way past bedtime.

Three thirty-three a.m. Ive

been at this for over fourteen hou rs.

Holding both Solomon and her

cell phone, she peered out into thehallway. Through the darkness, she

made out the shape of the light

switch on the wall beside the stairs.

"I swear I hate this place at

night," sh e said, more to herself than

to the cat.

Solomon purred and rubbed his


16/22

16 Writers Beat

face against her neck, not worried in

the slightest. Holding him close, she

hurried to the light switch and

flipped it on. The stairwell plunged

down into utter blackness - theyawning throat of the house.

Solomon blinked at her, his bright

yellow eyes reflecting the overhead lamp.

"I suppose if youre really

starving, I can brave the depths of

the first floor." With a shudder, she

descended, each wooden step

creaking beneath her.

-This is an excerpt of a longer

work. To read the story in its

e n t i r e t y , v i s i t

http://www.writersbeat.com/scissor

s-t9083.html

What the critics saidThe descriptions were very well

written in every respect. Almost

putting m e as the writer.

A terrific story, Jiilian; wonderful

plot and great characters.

Spectacular stuffwhat did I say

when I first read this? Oh YeahI

wanna write like this when I grow

up!

Other Recommended

ReadingHere were the other nominations,

which we would highly recommend

you take a look at. Congratulations

to all of these writers for a job well

done!

February

Member: rocklion

Title: Honeysuckle Blues

Member: Torpeh

Title: Crucifix Hill

Member: novu

Title: W hite Rain

March

Member: starrwriter.

Title: The Mushroom People

Member: gunner

Title: Murder at Willow Bridge

Member: Toyzrock

Title: Another window

Member: gary_wagner

Title: Ahmed of A ramco (Cont)

Member : starrwriter

Title: A Tale of Two Fathers

Member: tarakanTitle: The Adventures of Tarquin

Jenkins - Bare Faced Cheek!

Member : starrwriter

Title: The Dreaming Pool

Member: pugh7755

Title: Retribution

Member: gary_wagner

Title: The freakasaurus

____________________________

You know you're

a writer when...

everyonearound you

seems like a

very good

characterfor your next novel.

- Fanci

From the Inkster Incorporated

forum on Writers Beat

Top ten clich sinsBy Tina C.1. No LukeI am your father. Need I say anymore about this plotline,

hmm?

2. Characters solving plot deficiencies by g oing to the libraryor even

better the good old let it slip in tactless conversation.

3. Dialogue that starts with Hey, or Say.

4. Chapters that begin with the weather.

5. Incorrectly spelled names, so that characters appear cool. Trust me,

they dont.

6. Those Mundan e metaphors. You know the ones I meanit was as

cold as iceicy fingers ran down his spineher eyes were the colour of

the sky.

7. Any sentence that includes Little did he/she/they/it know that

8. One for the fantasy writers Wizards with long grey/white beards and

flowing cloaksermthis may come as a bit of a shock but it has been

done already.

9. One for the horror writersVampires who are traumatised by their

condition but are down right sexy d oing it!

10. One for the SF w riters Aliens who attack the human race because

they have had an ecological disaster on their home worldor they

attack us just because they can.
http://www.writersbeat.com/scissors-t9083.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/scissors-t9083.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/scissors-t9083.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/scissors-t9083.html


17/22

17 Writers Beat

Once I am

certain that this

is a person, Ireach for my

mobile phone.

I am horrified

to think of

what might

have happened

to her.

A Writers

Beat VIP Club

F e a t u r e d

Story.

Ocean Maidenand Apple King

by Josie Henley

Iwas born at sea; I spent the first100 years of my childhood in the

ocean; if it were my choice I would

die at sea. The land is not right. It is

heavy, hard and static. The water is

uplifting, yielding and fluid. The first

time I came to land, I could not force

my legs to work properly. They felt

like great lumps of meat with big

clunky feet, knobbly knees and h orny

toes, it was all wrong, wrong! Not

like the smooth and beautiful

rainbow-reflecting scales that I was

used to.

In the sea there are three

dimension s: forward-b ack; left-right;

up-down. On land you cant dive

down deep or leap up high. On land

you must stick rigidly to a two-

dimensional life. If it were my choice

I should not visit the land ever again.

But it is not my choice, for I have

been sent on a mission to this dry

and brittle realm. I must bear the

desiccated land until I have

completed the task set out for me.

As children we are taken up the

channel, gradually a few miles more

each year through the noxious

brackish water. We must learn to

bear it until we are prepared for dry

earth. I have a strong memory of the

relief felt when swimming back out

of the channel to delicious cool

salinity. Each time I make the

journey, this memory floods my

mind and I am a youngster again.I have been sent three times in

total, and this is my last chance to

accomplish my duty. The first time I

travelled this path the baby was

male, which happens. As the wise

one told me, it cannot be helped and

it must be borne.

Some stay and raise

the child themselves

for as long as they

can, some find it a

home or abandon it

and escape to thesea once more.

It is a risk to stay

for love . Soon

enough the son will

turn against the

m o t h e r , i t i s

inevitable. We are

different. Compared

with their short and

brutal lives, we

m u s t s e e m

immortal. There are

o t h e r m i n o r di ffe rences : our

famed beauty is

e n t r a n c i n g , o u r

voices captivating.

It is a great burden to bear, to be so

attractive to those for whom o ne can

only feel sorrow.

There is little of us in a boy,

perhaps a talent for fishing and a

love of sailing coupled with a

propensity to stare wistfully out to

sea on long evenings. I stayed untilhe was weaned and it broke my heart

to leave him, but his father was a

good man. The longer we stay, the

more difficult it is to go back but I

have heard of those who chose to

linger before returning, and those

who never return. I have heard tales

of ones who were driven out by the

locals, or worse: burned, and the

child too.

I knew that the day would come

when they noticed how I did not age,

and I cou ld not let this happen. I stillthink about my son sometimes. His

dark brooding eyes contrasted with

the blonde curls that all our babies

are born to bear. I called him

Benjamin for his father. Although he

is long dead now, perhaps his

d e s c e n d a n t s

continue to work

the estuary.

My second child

I rarely think about

as it hurts so much.

It is my own faultthat she perished. I

went too far inland

t o sa t i s fy my

curiosity and when

the time came to

birth I could not

make it back to the

sea. She was born a

mile from the coast

in the hovel of an

old woman. I was

running, running

along the trackwhen she caught

me. I screamed for

her to leave me for

I still thought that I

might reach the water. But she

pointed to the trail of bloo d and on ce

she had hold of me my legs


18/22

18 Writers Beat

crumpled. I lay back and she put her

hand on the babys head. At least I

was on the earth and not confined

between the womans stone walls.

A few minutes later I was holdingmy daughter. If the old woman

expected me to be happy then she

was disappointed: I was discon-

solate. I cried so passionately that my

tears washed the ch ild until her skin

glistened. I begged the woman for a

bucket of water and tried to sink the

baby in it, but she stayed my hand.

She thought I was trying to drown

the poor mite. It would have been too

late anyway. If the baby is not born

under water then she will not beco me

a full Ocean Maiden.She would not die from exposure

to the air, but neither will she find

her fins. She will be forever trapp ed

with legs and lungs, wandering the

barren earth in search of something

that she cannot say, yearning and

hoping and eventually being driven

mad with unrequited need. I did not

want that for my daughter. I left the

old womans shelter some days later

and suffocated my poor darling,

taking her little body back with me to

the deepest trench to mourn my loss.I had not named her, as this would

have contributed to my suffering.

Following that I stayed in the sea for

some centuries and have not

ventured out. But I have been told

now by the wise one that I must go. I

must fulfil my obligation to my grandmothers.

My mother had three daughters, and

my sisters each have two already. I

am the only one in our family who

has failed in this way. Thus my

desperation this time to conceive a

girl and bring her to birth. I so wanta daughter and it is this wanting that

draws me forward, out of the water.

The method of choosing a man is

taught to us before we make our first

journey to land. He must be clean

and free from disease; he must be

young and fit, not burdened; he must

have a spark of intelligence. But

most of all, he must be alone.

I fall on the rocks several times as

I pick m y way toward the land, try to

make it to the thick sharp salty grass.But finally I give up and drop onto a

hard, smooth bou lder, naked, bruised

and shivering. I shall lie here and

wait for dawn, gathering my strength.

I am a fish out of water.

I was born under an apple tree.

My family have owned this farm for

centuries, and now I run the

business. We bre w organic cider and

p e r r y a n d h a v e r e c e n t l y

experimented with liqueurs for thegrowing market. I am not rich but I

would say that Im comfortable. Folk

around here call me The Apple King,

which does make me laugh. My

name is Benjamin, a name which has

been handed down through my

mothers family for generations.

Most of the family on her side were

sailors, but my fathers family were

farmers. The land is in my bon es, the

cider my blood.

I like to think that I have a bit

more intelligence than the averageNeanderthal you might meet in this

small town. I read classics, I play

sudoku. I run my own accounts and

use the internet to sell my specialist

liqueurs. The internet is also a handy

way to keep a track of the latest

c o m p e t i t i o n . I h a v e s o m e

companionship in the form of my

employees, but my parents are both

dead and my only brother emigrated

to New Zealand to run a sheep farm.

I am lonely, you see, a nd isolated. I

cant think of a way to change thatsituation as Im also painfully shy.

I like to drink at a coastal bar,

which is really just an old stone

shack with a couple of barrels and

some rough seating. I prefer this to

the local which is all done up for

tourists. Dont get me wrong, I like

the local, and the tourists. Between

them they give my profits a hefty

boost. I like them, but I wouldnt

want to drink with them, if you kno w

what I mean. This bar is the only onewithin walking distance that doesnt

have a TV b laring in the corner.

On a Frid ay night I generally

find myself drinking my own cider at

the bar, paying a bit extra to drink it

from a glass instead of straight from

the barrel. Shep comes with me and

sits under the table. He gets an

ashtray full of bitter and lots of

petting from the old guys who gath er

to play dominoes. Apart from the

mobile phone in my pocket, this

could be fifty years ago. I like that.Soon enough the sleepiness of this

town will be overtaken by the global

machine. Why not enjoy its last days

of leisure?

Occasionally we get a

disorientated tourist here. The lost

adventurer who has made it past Ice-

Cream City, through Amusement

Arcade Jungle and discovered that

there is life beyond Theme Pub

World. A weekend ramb ler marching

out into the landscape and co nfused

by the lack of facilities. I shouldntdo them down, really. Some of them

are pretty smart folk. But the more

that come, the more likely the

landlord is to give in to the pressure

to renovate the soul out of the old place.

So far the only concession to

tourists is the old dog-eared poster

writing up the history of the house,

done back when the current landlord

first took over. Apparently, hundreds

of years ago, an old dear used to

cater for sailors and travellers. She

was mobbed by locals for helping awitch to kill her baby and the place

was burned down. No-one wanted it

so it fell into ruin. Folk said it was

cursed and haunted and all that. It

was turned into a bar then in 1920 by

an enterprising old navy man and a

photo of him hangs between the


19/22

19 Writers Beat

optics. He looks a bit like Popeye.

The sun is long gone and the last

orders have been called. I could stay

for longer. Im sure the landlord

wouldnt mind, me being his mainsupplier. But I dont feel like

sticking around tonight. I feel

restless for some reason, perhaps its

the heat.

Hup, Shep! I say and he d oesnt

need a second telling. I take my

leave of the old lads and hitch up my

trousers before walking out into the

night. I wouldnt use the toilet here,

little more than a hole in a hedge it is

anyway. I need to go so I walk down

the coastal path till I find a bush. Its

the long way home but old Sheplikes a run on the beach before bed.

As Im pointing over the sea

front, I notice a gleaming shape on

the rocks out there. Its probably just

an old bit of bleached driftwood but

from here it looks like it could be a

person. You never know what you

might find washed up on the shore.

Curiosity leads me down onto the

first boulders to try and get a closer

look. The nearer I get, the more it

looks like a woman, lying down with

long hair spread out around her. Ireach for my hip-flask apple

brandy of course in case sh e needs

resuscitation.

Cautiously I approach. There is a

strange smell, a fishy musky smell.

Not unpleasant, a bit like lobster

perhaps. Once I am certain that this

is a person, I reach for my mobile

phone. I am horrified to think of

what might have happened to her.

She is naked and by the way she is

spread-eagled I think that she must

be dead. Who could do a thing likethis? What is the world coming to?

But then, just as I am about to dial

999, I jump nearly out of my skin

because she mov es. Not only a small

movemen t but she virtually leaps up

to a standing position as if shes a

puppet being pulled with strings.

I stammer a few w ords and s tep

backwards, tripping in a rock-pool.

Shep runs up to us barking and I put

my hand out to stop him. I apologise

to her and put my phone away. She isobviously uninjured. Maybe shes a

strange hippy-tourist who de cided to

come for a midnight swim alone in

the nude. Who knows whats inside

these peoples heads?

She walks towards me and I back

away again. Calling Shep, I turn and

meander back up to the headland,

trying to appear casual. I am glad of

the cover of darkness because I am

so embarrassed that I think my face

is as rosy as an apple in full blush.

When I get to the top, I turn, fullyexpecting to see her gathering a

towel or running in the opposite

direction. She is not. She stands there

looking at me for a moment, then

slowly and deliberately strides ov er

the rocks towards me.

The panic I feel is like nothing ever

before, even the kiss I had in high

school. I make a grab for my hip-

flask and take a massive swig,

ignoring the burn in my throat. I wait

for her to step onto the path and then

open my mouth to speak. But I cantget my words out. Her eyes bore into

me, as if she can see deep into my

soul. She takes two s teps nearer, her

hips swinging suggestively and by

her look I know whats on her mind.

I stumble backwards again. She

makes a cooing noise, as if

reassuring me.

I try to tell her to go find another

man, someone with more of a way

with the ladies, not me! She lifts a

finger to stay my lips, then leans

forward and replaces her finger withher own lips. Then I am gone and I

can think no more. I fall into her

embrace like a drowning man

accepts his watery grave.

________________________

Another VIP

W r i t e r s

S h o w c a s eFeature:

Ahmed of

Aramcoby Gary_Wagner

Ahmed was a light-skinned, blue-

eyed Saudi, a rarity in the land of

black hair, dark-brown eyed, latte-

colored skin Arabs. His blue eyes

and light skin were the gene pool

inheritance from his Lebanese

mother. Ahmed also dressed in

western clothes, instead of the ankle-

length thobe m ost Saudi men wear.

I first met Ahmed standing outside

the doors of the main Aramco office

building in Dhahran. Ano ther rarity

for Saudi A rabia, the office building

there had just been made smoke-free.

Smokers had to make their way

down to the ground floor and smoke

outside in the oppressive heat.

Ahmed approached me and told me

he really liked my shirt, which was

not all that surprising - it was my

favorite shirt, a Ralph Lauren that

my wife bought for me. Well, who

am I kidding, I have only bou ght two

shirts in the thirty-one years we have

been married she has bought all the

rest.

I had no idea Ahmed was a Saudi.

He didnt tell me and I didnt ask. If

you have never worked in Saudi

Arabia you might wonder why that

matters. If you have ever worked

there, you would realize that either

being a Saudi or not makes all the

difference in the world. It is their

country, we were little more than

servants working for them at their


20/22

20 Writers Beat

I felt like running for

the door. Instead I had a

couple of sidiki and

colas; got really

mellow. Then I smokedone of the half-tobacco,

half-hashish cigarettes

Mohammed made for

me. I was 39 years old

and just had the first

illegal drug of my life.

whim and desire, and they were not

shy to let us know that. Granted, w e

were highly specialized and highly

paid servants, but we understood our

place which was lower than theSaudis in all matters. Americans used

to rank highest in the non-Saudi

pecking order, at least which was

still true in 1996 when this story

occur red . We

were higher than

o t h e r

nationalities, but

definitely second

class citizens. We

tolerated it in

return for them

paying us twicetimes as much

money as we

c o u l d m a k e

anywhere else in

the world, full

pay retirement

benefits at age

50, paying for

our housing and

u t i l i t i e s ,

providing us with

a car, six weeks vacation per year,

private schools for our youngerchildren, luxurious private boarding

schools anywhere in the world for

our high school children, and paying

airfare for a trip home once per year.

Ahmed and I talked about

inconsequential things - normal

smokers chit-chat. It seemed like

over the next week or so, he was out

there smoking every time I went out

for a smoke. He knew I was working

there with my family still back here

in the USA , and I knew that he lived

alone in the bachelors section of theAramco compound.

Ahmed invited me to his apartment

to watch some videos and drink

some homemade booze on new-years

eve, which is not celebrated as a

holiday there. I still had no idea at

the time he was a Saudi or I would

have never agreed. I went there, we

watched Pink Floyd videos, I got

drunk and threw up, and slept it off

on his couch a common night out

for a western expatriate in Saudi.I went back to his place about a

week later. A f riend of his was sitting

on the floor, obviously a Saudi with

the clothes, complexion, hair, and

e y e s t h a t

declared his

nationality loud

a n d c l e a r .

There was a

n e w s p a p e r

spread out in

front of him

where he wasdisassembling

cigarettes and

pushing the

tobacco in a

pile. I was a

little nervous

because I was

not about to

d r i n k

h o m e m a d e

hooch in front

of a Saudi. Never had, never planned

to, too risky.His friend introduced himself, said

his name was Mohammed (true of

about half of all Saudis) and that he

and Ahmed were going to drink

Sidiki (the homemade booze) and

smoke hashish. W ould that bother me?

I was floored. I had traveled to

London and Los Angeles with Saudis

I worked with and they could drink

me under the table in a heartbeat, but

I never had one admit drinking while

in kingdom before. It was a huge

unspoken rule. Plus, alcohol can getyou in a lot of trouble there, illegal

drugs carries the death penalty. No

kidding, they cut peoples heads off

for that with a big curved sword at

noon in public squares, one Friday

per month. Fathers pack a picnic

lunch and take their sons to watch.

There are no protests, no candlelight

vigils; its just something they accept

as part of their normal life.

I was seeing a glimpse into the

private life of a Saudi lives keptextremely private, especially from

the eyes of expatriates like me. There

w e r e r u m o r s , t h e r e w e r e

assumptions, there was talk, but this

was the first glimpse of reality I had

ever had while working there.

I felt like running for the door.

Instead I had a couple of sidiki and

colas; got really mellow. Then I

smoked on e of the half-tobacco, half-

hashish cigarettes Mohammed made

for me. I was 39 years old and just

had the first illegal drug of my life. Igot a little goofy and had another.

We were all goofy and laughing at

everything. Put the Pink Floyd video

on again, it was hilarious. Ahmed

asked for my keys, which I gave him,

and he told me to come with him

when he ran for the door. I knew

Ahmed didnt have a car or a

drivers license. I never asked why, I

just knew he didnt because he told

me more than once. I didnt really

care much in the haze of booze and

drugs.He didnt drive us far, just to a

hill in the compound not far from his

apartment. He parked the car and

said, I just wanted you to share this

beautiful sunset with me and took

my hand.

I have never become sober so fast

before in my life.

Let me back up a minute and

explain something about men

holding hands in Saudi. It is a very

common practice and doesnt usually

connote anything except friendship.We shake hands in greeting, they

hold hands. The pinky hold is pretty

common too. It is rather jarring to

see two policeman walking down the

street carrying automatic weapons

over their shoulders and swinging

their arms with their pinkies linked


21/22

21 Writers Beat

Writers Block?Try some of these

prompts:

From the Story Starters

thread in Writing Tips &

Advice on Writers Beat

K Pick three characters who

have nothing in common. Place

them together in an unlikely

setting and describe what they

talk about as well as what

happens.

KWrite from a clich - taken

literally.

K Think about a person from

work or school whom you cant

stand. Write a couple of

paragraphs from their point of

view.

KWrite a character sketchabout a person who people dont

normally pay attention to.

KWrite about a dream you

would like to fulfill before you

die.

KWrite a story about a weird

event in your towns history.

KWrite about a colorful familymember / ancestor

KWrite a poem about an

awkward moment in your life.

together. It is such a common

practice that I have had Saudis at my

office reach out and take my pinky in

theirs while we walk down a hall

without even thinking about it. It issomething you simply have to get

used to. To refuse or pull your hand

away would be an insult so you just

accepted the difference. All of our

contracts contained a clause that we

could be terminated and deported for

insulting a S audi.

The way Ahmed was holding my

hand, they way he referenced the

sunset, and the way he was looking

at me told me instantly that he was

looking for more than a friend.

Earlier that evening I had justlearned that Ahmed was a Saudi

citizen. That changed the balance of

the equation. Saudis have an inherent

power over expats, its just a fact of

life there. Piss off a Saudi and you

might as well pack your bags and go

home, or worse, get set up for

something and go to prison, or worst

of all, get your head cut off.

I endured a few minutes of

extreme discomfort before I told

Ahmed I wasnt feeling well and

would have to go home. He offeredto let me sleep over, I declined, lying

that I was scheduled to call my wife

back in the USA at a predetermined

time and couldnt miss it. I prob ably

said the word s, wife and family

half-a-dozen times as if I needed to

remind him that I was married with children.

I began using a new exit from the

office building and found a different

smoking spot. I nev er saw Ahmed or

Mohamm ed again. I guess neither of

them wanted to make trouble with

me for running away and breakingoff contact without another word

spoken between them because

although they could make trouble for

me, I could make just as much

trouble with them. We had reached a

stand-off of MAD (mutually assured

destruction) and both decided to just

keep quiet and move on with our

lives in hopes that they other

wouldnt cause a ruckus because

everyone would go down in flames

together if any one of us did.There are still things about that

situation that I do nt know and dont

necessarily want to know. Did I

somehow lead him on? Did I

misunderstand the watching the

sunset incident? Did he miscalculate

the depth of my loneliness being

there alone before my family came to

stay with me? Does this incident

make me a homophobe? And the

biggest question, how could I be so

blind and nave to a situation

unfolding around me.It doesnt bother me as mu ch as it

used to, but it will always still bother

me to some extent. I hope I didnt

hurt his feelings too much but he

sure freaked the hell out of me.

If you would like your work f eatured

in Writers Showcase, simply join

the Writers Beat VIP Forum. See

this link for more details:

http://www.writersbeat.com/view_go_vip.htm

"What is written

without effort is in

general read

without pleasure"

Samuel Johnson

(G.B. Hill (ed.), Johnsonian

Miscellanies, Vol. 2)
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22/22

22 Writers Beat

Paper or Plastic?WB Members comment on the

difference between w riting a draft

on paper or on a computer:

I use both. If I'm sitting in my

room working on som ething, I

generally click it into my computer.

But I also like the feel of having a

pencil scratch the paper, especially

for my non-fiction stuff. Also, I

find ideas flow better when my

materials are right there in hard

copy lying on my desk.

-Alyosha

I always type my actual writtenwork, but I never go to sleep

without a notepad nearby, because

handwriting is still the best way to

hammer o ut those demented scraps

of genius that wake you from your

sleep. -Darthwader

I prefer the computer because Ican type faster, and should I ever

need to go back and edit,

Backspace leaves a clean sheet of

paper. No scribbles or circles or

arrows. Also, if I have a pen in my

hand, I'm probably more inclined to

doodle than I am to write.

- Citizen

Does anyone remember

this anachronistic thing

called a typewriter?

-jec5579

_______________________

Excerpts from

What Do You Prefer: Pen and

Paper or the Computer?

Inkster Incorporated,

Writer's Bea tForum

Photo PromptHopefully, a picture really IS worth a thousand words.

See if you can write a few paragraphs based on thisphotograph:

Need another idea? Try going through your family photo

albums. Find one from your early childhood and focus on it

for a few moments. Do you recall any events from the time

the photo was taken? If so, put yourself back into your

kids-sized shoes and write about your memories.

If youd like to seeyourartwork

or photo on cover of the n ext

issue of Writers Club, submit it

to us by either using Contact Us

form on the Writers BeatForum

main page, or contact StarPanda

for more details,

WB Official Publication 2007 WritersBeat.com

All writing works a nd photos

contained within are either property

of Writers Beat or used with

permission by the authors/artists

noted. No p art of this publication

may be copied, printed, reproduced

or otherwise circulated without

permission from the a uthors.
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writer's club: issue #12

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