And what’s this got to do with writing anyway?
One of my writing colleagues recently published an article about prejudice against beauty. What? Who doesn’t like beauty? We all enjoy seeing beautiful things, places, faces. But what we don’t usually consider is how that pretty face makes us feel. Envious? Intimidated? Intrigued? Superior? Before that gorgeous gal utters a single word, have we judged her based on appearance? Continue reading
The story of an unknown man
This is a continuation of excepts from Harry Nicholson’s excellent book, Tom Fleck. –Jeff Guenther
Read Part I
Introduction: “Tom Fleck is partly a response to the flush of novels about Tudor royalty. I feel small connection with those great lords and their ladies; I sense more kinship with the lives of ordinary folk. So I’ve imagined the lives and adventures of unknown men and women, people without heraldry, people who left no marks of their passing except for the blood that flows in our veins.” –Harry Nicholson
More Fragments of Tom’s world:
Tom is with his father, about to dig into a burial mound on the Cleveland Hills: Continue reading
Today’s guest poster is Harry Nicholson. I met Harry on Goodreads and was very impressed by the quality of his writing. And his poetry. And his artwork. The following post showcases his evocative prose, selections from ‘Tom Fleck,’ a novel. –Jeff Guenther
The story of an unknown man.
Tom Fleck Amazon Link
Introduction: “When I was tapping out Morse in the pitching wireless cabins of tropical steamers in the 1950’s, story-telling was not in my mind. A career in television studios might have brought it about – thirty years working with stories in pictures soaks the mind with images. These days, in a valley below the moorlands of North Yorkshire, I have more time to imagine at leisure. My first tale is about a humble farm labourer and his struggles to be free in Tudor England.” Continue reading
I’m sitting in a dark room sandwiched between two old women in wheelchairs. The one on my right is my mom. We are watching An American in Paris. I don’t think I’ve seen it before. Over the last month, my mother’s health and well-being have preoccupied my life. Continue reading
A few years ago, there suddenly appeared, as if from Heaven, a new rule for writers, no doubt engraved somewhere in marble or ivory: THOU SHALT NOT USE ADVERBS. (For those who are unclear as to what an adverb is, the rule has a variant: GET RID OF ALL LY WORDS. ) The source of this rule is unknown to me at this time, but one authority blames it on Continue reading
“Mostly I daydream. I use that well-known effect, whereby when you get in your car at the end of the workday, unless you stay alert, your hind-brain will drive you home. I do a lot of plot juggling then. Basic ideas often come as I wake up. I lie around, faking sleep, and drift through cobwebbed corridors, poking at heaps of junk that might yield some old iron pot or oily rag. Useful, all. Why not have X do Y to Z? a voice asks, and so I do just that, next time I’m punishing the keys.”–Gregory Benford
Public domain photo via Wikimedia Commons