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The Writer's E-Zine

 

Produced and published by the members of Writers' Village University since 1998    ISSN 1521-2639       
20 November 2008
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Craft of Writing

Eric D. Lehman

Becoming the World's Strongest Writer

"To write, you must read." - Kurt Vonnegut

"She needs to read more poetry if she ever wants to become a better writer," insisted my colleague when talking about one of our weaker creative writing students. I agreed heartily, having browbeat a screenwriter friend with this idea for years. "But I need more time for writing," he would counter. "I don't have time for reading with a job and family." "True enough," I grudgingly admitted. This creates an apparent paradox for authors. We need quality input to generate quality output, but unless we have nothing else to do all day, reading books takes away from production. Nevertheless, this is a little like saying that eating protein takes away from weight-lifting. These activities are inter-related in such a way that one cannot exist meaningfully without the other. If that creative writing student does not ingest volumes of poetry, her own work will remain weak and frail, unable to lift the most generous reader's heart.

Of course, we often need to research a subject before writing about it, and this is the most basic sort of necessary input, the sort no one can disagree with. To write a mystery novella that involved cryonics and cloning, I needed to research these disciplines, at least enough to use them without making factual errors. However, it's not just ideas and data that we mine this input for, but style, words, images, and stories. While writing a book about hiking in Connecticut, I read dozens of long-distance walking and adventure stories. This input increased the quality of my final product in a way that would never have happened if I had not been reading. The rhythms of our language and the word choices we make do not appear from thin air. As a newborn baby learns its language from its parents, writers learn from their own literary lineage. The idea of "originality" may trouble some writers, but even divine inspiration comes from somewhere, by definition. We must take the language of others deep into our blood, combine it and transform it, and finally make it our own.

What if you just don't have time for all this? Then, I'm sorry to say, it's time to lose the popcorn and sugar snacks and get to the hard-core protein. What constitutes protein? Well, that depends on what you are writing. "Stop watching sports," some teachers might say. Absolutely. If you're not writing something that would benefit from it. If you're composing a short story about a decaying baseball player or a screenplay about a crazy fan, then watching sports is the protein. If soap operas give you ideas for poems, then by all means watch them. Still, though it probably doesn't need to be said, if you are working in the medium of writing, then reading other texts will usually be far more productive. Only you know what input is a guilty pleasure and what is both fruitful and soul-stirring.

Of course, it is hard to know exactly what will help us until we read, but we can guess. Recently, I visited a used bookstore and found an entire shelf of outdoor adventure stories that I longed to devour. A few years back I had gulped down many hearty meals of this genre while writing the hiking book I mentioned earlier. But now I was writing a memoir of college life that required a different approach and a different kind of input. So I passed those adventure stories by, searching for memoirs and college novels.

And that is the point. If someone wants to write the best she can, while holding down a job, a family, and an active lifestyle, then this critical attention to input is absolutely necessary. Critical attention does not mean you won't enjoy the books. Read what you like, but push the boundaries, and read consistently and vigorously. In the long run, laziness in this regard is just as detrimental as sloth in the writing itself.

To increase the daily input, try alternate methods like books on tape. After listening to forty-eight lecturers on Ancient Egypt over a month of driving to work, I have more ideas than I can possibly produce. Maybe I overdid it, but what would I have done instead? Listen to the news or music? These are both worthy activities, but were not helping my writing, so I had to cut them. I try to read on breaks at work, on trains, in traffic jams, and at every boring event I am forced to attend. At all times I have a book as well as a notebook, ready to use at any spare moment. Waiting for a late student to show for a meeting becomes ten minutes of solid input. The more I read, the faster I get, devouring books like a champion bodybuilder. My reading comprehension skyrockets, and those snatches of reading during television commercials become actually productive.

As an author, your number one job is to start writing. We can get drawn in by the lure of input, as it is generally easier than the writing itself. It can become an "excuse" to put off our great masterpiece. Nevertheless, input and output build on each other, like lifting weights and eating protein. Writing, like weight-lifting, will make you hungrier, and eating protein-rich books will help those muscles grow. The more you do of both, the easier both become. If you want to be the World's Strongest Writer, you have a lot of reading and writing to do.


About the Author
Eric D. Lehman is an aspiring chef, a poetry addict, and the founder of the Bridgeport Explorer’s Club. In his spare time he tracks animals and tries to read at least a hundred books per year. He is also a Professor of English at the University of Bridgeport in Connecticut and has previously published travel stories, fiction, essays, and poetry in various journals, such as Hackwriters: The International Writer’s Magazine, Switchback, Nature’s Wisdom, Identity Theory, and Artistry of Life.


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Craft of Writing

Carter Jefferson

The Semicolon Solution

In the misty past semicolons were workhorses, slaves of writers, tossed about with abandon. They began turning up like raisins in buns during the 16th century; Ben Jonson, Shakespeare, Jane Austen, and T.S. Eliot found them useful in ways we wouldn't.
 
But times have changed. In our modern, more puritanical society, the poor semicolon has been forced to take a narrow path it must follow without flinching, no matter how attractive the pastures on either side may seem.
 
Here's what a semicolon is for.
 
When you have two sentences that are closely related, so closely related that you don't want a cold and callous period to separate them, use a semicolon to join them in happy union. These have to be full sentences, not simple words or phrases. Each one must be an independent clause, able to stand on its own, bravely facing the world without help from anything or anybody. Like Romeo and Juliet, however, they yearn to be joined.
 
Thus we might be faced with this situation:
 
"I awoke in a cold, dark corridor. Wind whistled through, chilling me to the bone."
 
As you can see, each sentence is complete and fully formed. Under some circumstances, depending on the flow and rhythm of the piece you're writing, they would do perfectly well as they are, each one capitalized and furnished with its own personal period. But suppose the circumstances are different, and you feel a great need, usually for reasons of rhythm, to bring them more closely together? Then you may do this:
 
"I awoke in a cold, dark corridor; wind whistled through, chilling me to the bone."
 
If the sentences were these, you couldn't do it:
 
"I awoke in a cold, dark corridor. Something told me Ginny was fixing supper."
 
Those sentences just aren't that closely related; they aren't total strangers, but they aren't kissing cousins, either.
 
You can't do these things:
 
"I awoke in a corridor; cold and dark."
 
"I awoke in a corridor; frightened out of my wits."
 
"I awoke in a corridor; dark, cold stones.
 
"I used a semicolon; just because it looked so nice."
 
Join full sentences only, please. Of course, sometimes what's really a full sentence doesn't look that way on paper, because parts of it are understood. Here's one:
 
"George likes rare steak; not for me."
 
The "It's" is there; you just can't see it.
 
The rule still holds when you join clauses with a conjunctive adverb:
 
"I badly wanted to retrieve my bathing suit; however, the waves were so high I feared I'd be swept away if I tried."
 
If you're using a semicolon, that second clause has to be a sentence that could stand by itself. Starting sentences with "however" and other conjunctive adverbs is not usually a good idea, though it's done all the time in bad writing and everyday speech. There are better ways to say that, don't you think? Don't forget simple words like good old "but":
 
"I badly wanted to retrieve my bathing suit, but the waves were so high I feared I'd be swept away if I tried."
 
In two other instances you may, nay, must, use semicolons. One is this:
 
"In the corridor were pictures made of terrible images, each painted in sweeping strokes; obstacles that prevented our escape; and frightening creatures that bustled around under feet, sometimes so thick we could not avoid stepping on them."
 
Those semicolons are there for greater clarity, because parts of the series include commas—that's the only reason.
 
If, perchance, you wish to join two long, complicated sentences, each one already supplied with commas, you'll do well to use a semicolon even if you also use a co-ordinating conjunction:
 
"When the car drove away, leaving behind a cloud of dust and a load of memories, I found myself sad and alone; but not long after, my sweetheart, dressed in nothing but shorts and a halter top, came running up and clasped me in her arms."
 
The real question, of course, is whether you really want to write a sentence like that. I don't.
 
Bad writers will pull anything—you know how they are—but good writers use semicolons only to join full sentences or put together comma-ridden series. Once you imbibe this information, make it a part of your very being; you will then have joined that happy few who really, truly, know what a semicolon is for.


About the Author
Carter Jefferson, once a naval officer, journalist, history professor, and psychotherapist, now teaches writing in U. Mass./Boston's Osher Lifelong Learning Institute. His stories and essays have appeared in T-Zero: The Writer's E-Zine, The Hiss Quarterly, flashquake, and other e-zines, and his book reviews in the Washington Post and the Chicago Tribune. He even sold one tale, hand-bound and illustrated, in an art gallery. His website: http://carterj.homestead.com/.


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Birdie's Quill

Birdie

Avoid Clichés in Writing

Editors and publishers seek active, fresh manuscripts. Trite, stereotyped expressions buried in your text can sabotage your hopes of acceptance. These sentences or phrases express popular or common thoughts and ideas but have lost originality and ingenuity. Because of this overuse, the original impact of these clichés has diminished. The term cliché even reaches beyond individual phrases or sentences to character development and trite. Tired over-used character types and trite plots can also sink your manuscript.

Identify Clichés in Your Writing
Clichés are part of everyday dialog and it’s easy for them to sneak into our writing. Once you’ve written a first draft, it’s important to scrutinize the comparisons and images you use. Flag frequently used predictable phrases. Go through your manuscript using a highlighter or red pen to underline potential clichés. If you’re not sure if your phrase is a cliché, underline it anyway. Find a way to reword what you are trying to say. Use a dictionary or thesaurus to help you find the perfect words. Once upon a time, clichés were fresh, original and made an impact. A lasting impact that carries into today’s language. If you find the right words, your new phrase could become a cliché in the future.

Clichés
When you read through your work looking for clichés, it helps to read your work aloud. Listen for phrases and metaphors that sound too familiar. One way to rework the text is to ask yourself what you really mean. This technique helps to say what you mean in a fresh, unique way.

To help you learn to recognize a cliché I’ve included the following list. This is by no means a comprehensive list, but it will help to familiarize you with a variety of clichés and can also serve as a checklist of sorts in the future.

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet
Abandon ship
About face
Above board
Absence makes the heart grow fonder
Absolute power corrupts absolutely
Add insult to injury
Ace in the hole
Achilles heel
Acid test
Actions speak louder than words
After my own heart
Against the grain
Ah, to be young and foolish
Airing dirty laundry
Al fresco
All bets are off
All dressed up and nowhere to go
All ears
All for one, and one for all
All hands on deck
All hands to the pump
All heck (hell) breaks loose
All in a day's work
All in due time
All over the map
All talk and no action
All that glitters is not gold
All that jazz
All the bits and pieces
All the flowers of tomorrow are in the seeds of yesterday. 
All things grow with love
All thumbs
All wet
All work and no play, makes Jack a dull boy
All's fair in love and war
All's well that ends well
Already got one paw on the chicken coop
Altitude is determined by attitude
Always a bridesmaid, never the bride
Always look on the bright side
Am I my brother's keeper?
American as apple pie.
Am I talking to a brick wall
An angel belongs in the garden
An apple a day keeps the doctor away
An apple never falls far from the tree
An arm and a leg
An axe to grind
An idle mind is the devil's playground
An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure
Another day another dollar
Another nail in the coffin
Ants in his pants
Any friend of yours is a friend of mine
Any port in a storm
Anyhoo
Anything goes
Apple of his eye
Are you a man or a mouse?
Armed to the teeth
Around the horn
As all get out
As beautiful as the day is long
As clear as mud
As cold as ice
As common as dirt
As delicate as a flower
As dense as a London fog
As far as the eye can see
As fresh as a daisy
As good as gold
As hot as hell
As honest as the day is long
As if
As luck would have it
As much use as a yard of pump water
As plain as the nose on your face
As poor as dirt
As pure as snow
As sensitive as a flower
As slow as molasses
As snug as a bug in a rug
As solid as the ground we stand on
As tender as a mother's heart
As the crow flies
As useful as tits on a bull
As welcome as a skunk at a lawn party
As white as snow
As ye sow, so shall ye reap
Ashes to ashes dust to dust
Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies
Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country
Asleep at the wheel
Ass backwards
At the bottom of the pecking order
At the crack of dawn
At the drop of a hat
At the eleventh hour
At the end of my rope
At the end of the day
At the last minute
At wits' end
Atta boy
Atta girl

Babe in the woods
Beat around the bush
Beat it into the ground
Beauty is a fading flower
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
Bee in her bonnet
Being led down the garden path
Bent out of shape
Best thing since sliced bread
Better late than never
Better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick
Betting the farm
Between a rock and a hard place
Big as life
A bird in the hand is messy
A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush
Bite the dust
Bit off more than you can chew
Bless my bloomers
Blood is thicker than water
Bloom where you are planted
Blow hot and cold
A bottomless pit
Bowels of the earth
Bread and water
Bread and wine
Break new ground
Bring on the sun
Bright as a full moon
Broad daylight
Brought back to reality
Brought down to earth
Busy as a bee
Buy the farm

Caked with mud
Can't tell his ass from a hole in the ground
Can't tell his ass from his elbow
Can't see the forest for the trees
Can't see the wood for the trees
Carrot on a stick
Cat's meow
Caught between a rock and a hard place
Charm the birds out of trees
Chestnuts roasting on an open fire
Chip off the old block
Chip on his shoulder
Closing the barn door after the horse escapes
Cold feet
Cold hands warm heart
Come down to earth
Come hell or high water
Common garden variety
Common ground
Comparing apples to oranges
Cool as a cucumber
Cover a lot of ground
Cream of the crop
Crows are black everywhere
Crushing blow
Crying buckets
Cultivate the garden within
Cut and dried
Cut the ground out from under him

Dead of winter
Dig in
Dig it
Dig up dirt on him
Dig yourself into a hole
Digging a hole for yourself
Dishing the dirt
Dirt cheap
Dirt poor, filthy rich
Do I look like a turnip that just fell off the turnip truck?
Don't bite the hand that feeds you
Don't count your chickens before they hatch
Don't have a cow
Don't let grass grow under your feet
Don't look a gift horse in the mouth
Don't make a mountain out of a molehill
Don't make waves
Don't put all your eggs in one basket
Don't put the cart before the horse
Don't that just butter your grits.
Don't upset the apple cart.
Don't use a lot where a little will do
Down to earth
Drier than a burnt bush
Drive it into the ground
A drop in the bucket
Dropped like a hot potato
Dry as a bone
Dumb as a stump
Dumber than a bucket of rocks

Earth shattering
Easier said than done
Easy as falling off a log
Eat dirt
East my dust
Every cloud has a silver lining
Every dog has his day
Every rose has its thorn
Every stick has two ends
Everything's coming up roses

Face the music
Fall on stony ground
Fat as a hog
Fat as a cow
A feast for sore eyes
Feeling swamped
Feet of clay
Fell out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down
Fertile ground
Flat as a pancake
A flood of tears
Flower child
Flower of youth.
For everything there is a season. 
For the birds
For want of a nail the shoe was lost
Fountain of energy
Free as a bird
Fresh as a daisy
From dawn to dusk
From feast to famine
From small beginnings come great things
From the ends of the earth
From the four corners of the earth
From the ground up
Full of piss and vinegar
Full of vinegar
Funny farm

Gain ground
Gentle as a lamb
Get hold of the wrong end of the stick
Get your feet on the ground
Get your feet wet
Give a little, take a little
Give and take
Give ground
Go climb a tree
God's green earth
Go with the flow
Green with envy

Hard as a rock
Like a lead balloon
Moving experience
Needle in a haystack
Oldie but a goodie
Paled in comparison
Ripe old age
Shoulder the burden
Sink or you swim
Stand in awe
Strong as an ox
Untimely death
The Acorn doesn't fall far from the tree
Wise as an owl


About the Author
Author and freelance writer, Donna Sundblad, resides in Georgia with her husband, Rick. Together, they are working on a budgeting book that will be out in electronic format by early 2007. Donna serves as the Fantasy Topic Editor at Inspired Author, and her books, Pumping Your Muse and Windwalker are available in paper or ebook formats at epress-online.com. Check her website for more information at www.theinkslinger.net.


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Recognitions The Writers' Ezine - T-Zero Xpandizine

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Recognitions

Vivian Reed

Welcome to Recognitions, where the writing successes of Writers’ Village University members are celebrated. Springtime brings a sense of growth and renewal. At WVU, the writers are not just growing; they’re thriving!

SHANNA LEWIS
In late December, Shanna Lewis learned that she’d received three awards from the Colorado Press Association, but she had to wait two months to find out which of her stories were being honored. “I was delighted that I won for both my writing and for my photography,” she recalls. “Since I split my time at the Wet Mountain Tribune between photography and writing plus some page design work, I was pleased to receive recognition in both areas.”

“Fire and Water,” Shanna’s prize-winning news story, covered the huge wildfire that destroyed some 12,000 acres in the eastern Rocky Mountains in 2005 and the resulting floods in 2006. Shanna also produced a radio story on this topic which can be heard at the Western Skies archives.

The Tribune sent Shanna to the convention to accept her awards in February. She stayed with her husband at the Brown Palace, Denver’s finest old hotel. They went to a luncheon for the press at the governor’s residence, visited the new Denver Art Museum and attended a Shakespeare play as well as enjoying some great restaurants. “We made the whole four-day weekend a celebration,” Shanna says.

She and her husband live in a tiny, off-the-grid, solar-powered straw bale house that they built themselves in the mountains of Colorado. Shanna works at the weekly newspaper in Westcliffe that’s been in publication since 1833. She says, “I like covering local events and people, and I’m glad to report about a variety of subjects.” Check out Shanna’s work at the Wet Mountain Tribune.

Besides working as a full-time journalist and doing freelance writing online and in print, Shanna is also an independent radio producer. She contributes regularly to programs on KRCC and has been featured on NPR’s Weekend Edition.  In print or on the air, she’s done stories about artists, musicians, archeology, astronomy, beekeeping, history, the environment, good sportsmanship, agriculture and many other topics.

“I think everything I do inspires my writing, but I’m particularly partial to yoga, tai chi, belly dancing, hiking, skiing, and reading,” Shanna says. Besides print, radio and photo journalism, she also likes to write fiction, poetry, essays, and plays. She collaborated with her husband on an adventure novel for middle grade readers which they plan to revise for publication. She says she’s wanted to be a writer since she was a pre-teen and adds, “I dream of having the time to write a science fiction novel.”

Shanna has participated in many classes and belongs to a number of different study groups at the Writers' Village University. Currently, time limitations prevent her from being very active. “During my time at WVU I’ve learned much about the craft of writing, about critiquing and editing, about the nuts and bolts of submitting writing and more,” she says. “I never really understood how to craft a good story until I joined WVU.”

The classes and study groups also helped her make the adjustment from “talking about being a writer to being a writer.” Shanna explains, “I realized that I wasn’t getting any younger and if I wanted to be a writer I’d better hurry up and get started.” Although she feels she’s moved from asking questions to answering them, she still turns to WVU for information. “If I have a question about writing or the business of writing, there’s a good chance that someone in the WVU community will have the answer,” she says. “Plus I still get great feedback on my writing.”

For beginning writers, Shanna suggests taking advantage of readily available writing resources like books, websites, seminars and writers’ groups as well as listening to experienced writers for tips. “The best thing to do with the inner critic,” she says, “is to lock it away. Give yourself permission to write poorly, get ideas down and then let the inner critic out to help you revise your work and turn it from bad writing into good writing.”

Shanna also believes that writing in different genres helps build skills that cross over into other genres. “Practice, practice, practice,” she urges, “read, read, read, learn, learn, learn and then practice some more.”

MARIANNE ARKINS
“Regardless of the trappings, it’s ultimately always about romance,” Maria from Timeless Tales says of her writing. Two of her short stories, “Tickle Fights and Barbecues” and “Now that We’ve Found You,” have recently been published at the Wild Rose Press under her pseudonym, Marianne Arkins.

“It’s a baby step in reaching my ultimate goal of having a novel published, but it has given me the confidence that I can attain my dream.” Maria says. “The editors at the Wild Rose Press are astoundingly good and have helped me strengthen my writing craft.” She also sharpens her skills by maintaining a website, “Marianne Arkins, Hopeless Romantic and Storyteller,” and a blog, “Reading, Writing & Stuff that Makes Me Crazy.”

Maria celebrated her stories’ publication “by hunkering down and writing some more.” She hopes to have dozens of stories accepted at the Wild Rose Press. “No matter how much I like my writing,” she says, “it comes as a surprise that someone is willing to pay me for it.”

California born and raised, Maria finished her first novel when she was ten and completed two more as a teenager. One of them, a mystery, was a finalist in the Avon Teen Novel Writing Contest. “That was all the encouragement I needed to get hooked,” she recalls. Now living with her family in New Hampshire, Maria homeschools her seven-year-old daughter. She writes in the basement, also known as the “Mushroom Pit,” and enjoys gardening and scrapbooking in her spare time.

“Timeless Tales is where my heart belongs,” Maria says of the study group at WVU that she moderates. “This group is dedicated to romance and women’s fiction, and no matter what genre I write in (from fantasy to mystery to contemporary), I can’t keep romance off the page. We have a wonderful core group of members who are talented and encouraging.”

When Maria first joined WVU, she was involved in two other study groups. “I give Creative Energies Unlimited the credit for getting me on my feet,” she says, “and Persist and Publish helped me get serious about being published. That group is chock full of talented writers.” Her two stories published by the Wild Rose Press began as prompt responses in Persist and Publish. “In fact, most of my short stories and the novel I’m currently editing for submission all began as prompt responses!” Maria says. “There is a power in letting your mind roam free.”

Besides the novel she’s currently editing, Maria has two others, a mystery and a “sweet romance,” that are in the beginning stages. Of her dozens of short stories, three are under consideration with editors right now. “I started out writing fantasy and mystery and sometimes I go back,” she says. “I am currently working on a romantic mystery that is challenging me, and I have the idea for a fantasy that I’ll tackle when I’m up to world-building.”

As a member of Romance Writers of America, Maria reads widely in the genre and particularly likes Nora Roberts, Jayne Ann Krentz, Julie Garwood and J. R. Ward. “Jennifer Crusie is my absolute fave,” she says. “I love her sense of humor and amazing ability to create characters that leap off the page.” Since she’s been involved in RWA, Maria says, “I’ve intentionally tried to seek out new authors and have discovered a few gems. Colleen Gleason and Paula Graves are two that come to mind.”

Maria gets up early every morning (typically around 4 a.m.) to have quiet writing time. “I also try to squeeze in an hour or two during the afternoon while my daughter works on her schoolwork,” she says. “I usually do the new stuff in the morning when I’m assured there will be no interruptions.” She has participated in National Novel Writing Month twice and feels it has helped her learn to “get the words down and get it finished.” Maria adds, “My goals this year were to submit at least two items every month, and so far, I’m right on track. I submit based on the rules set by the editor, BUT I always have something out somewhere.”

To new writers, Maria advises, “Hone your craft and never think you know more than other more experienced writers.” She also encourages them to submit work. “I know so many people who talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. If you really want to succeed and be published, you have to get your work out there.”

CATRIONA ANNIS
“Just write, just do it,” Catriona Annis advises beginning writers. “Believe in yourself but don’t be obnoxious and don’t take critique personally. Editors are busy people.” Her poem, “A Single Malt,” was published recently in the Vanguard, the University of Queensland’s literary journal. “I knew it worked as a poem,” she says, “but it was a surprise to have it accepted immediately.”

Born in Scotland, Catriona remembers her grandmother’s tales of weird happenings connected to the Loch Ness monster. She grew up in the outskirts of London and won a scholarship to a posh English school before moving to Australia. Now she lives in Canberra with her husband, a sculptor, and her adult children. “There’s always something going on here,” she says, “almost too much to keep up with.”

Catriona posts her poetry at Word Weavers and Addled Muses. “Addled Muses are particularly encouraging, helpful and fun,” she says, “and I incorporate suggestions from Word Weavers.” She adds with a laugh, “I’m not precious about my poetry. It needs all the help it can get.” She was an early member of WVU and recalls Bob Hembree and Judy Hunt being in her classes. She re-enrolled after her husband gave her a membership to WVU as a Christmas present.

Her previous job as a journalist took Catriona all over Australia, reporting on agricultural shows. She also collaborated with veterinarians on three major textbooks. While promoting the books, she had to show a video called “Mating and Reproduction (Pigs)” to schoolchildren. “The number of dads who lined up to watch always amazed me,” she says. Currently, she works part-time as a research editor.

For relaxation, Catriona loves knitting and crochet, and she picked up another hobby, shooting a .22 caliber rifle, as part of a government research job monitoring wildlife. “Not many people have jobs which involve being an accurate shot, but I had to kill feral animals occasionally, which I hated, for test purposes. I felt it should be a quick death for them.” She recalls with a grin, “The staff slogan was ‘save our wild life’ and they didn’t mean animals.”

Poetry and articles are the targets of Catriona’s interest at the moment. “I’ve just completed a series of interviews with jazz musicians. Canberra had a Modern Jazz Quartet equivalent playing right here in the 1950s.” Catriona, who first got interested in writing through classes she took in preparation for writing her thesis for a master’s degree in education, has interviewed Diana Gabaldon and Bryce Courtney. She’s found that authors don’t mind being approached for interviews since the publicity helps their book sales.

“I am passionate about poetry,” Catriona says. “Canberra is known as cool-climate wine country and I am working on a suite of Tanka and Haiku based on wine language, which is quite rich and varied. At the moment, Canberra is experiencing strange weather changes and I want to put that into poetry too.” She lists bush poetry and sonnets along with science reports and interviews in the wide range of her writing experience.

“The most important thing for me,” she says, “is to write about the near death and partial recovery of my first daughter when she became a quadriplegic after a long coma. I’ve got two short books nearly completed, maybe as a verse novel.”

Catriona writes every day no matter what’s going on and almost everything she’s submitted has been accepted. She’s had short stories published but finds real life much more interesting. She observes, “People want to read or hear about real life experiences. Why else are reality shows so popular?”

RAMON COLLINS
“I am absolutely convinced micro and flash are fiction’s future,” predicts Ramon Collins. Besides being the “driver” of WVU’s Micro Bus study group, he’s had three recent publications online. Check out his work at Take Five, Shine...The Journal,  and David’s Coyote Den. His latest ink-on-paper story is available in volume 3 of Write Side Up.

Ramon’s enthusiasm for the short-short story is contagious. Two members of his Micro Bus study group (who are profiled below) won honorable mention at the Fiction Flyer in February. He explains the growing popularity of the form, “As online fiction submission guidelines grow shorter, a new reading audience is born. In order to capture these readers, print publications will have to publish short-short works. Short films are growing in popularity too.”

Known as Ramon at WVU, he says, “I had a nickname, Z34#973_GooGooGuy_K49#337, but I couldn’t remember it.” He revved up the Micro Bus about six months ago. “The riders (writers) on the bus offer positive and constructive suggestions to each other and to me,” Ramon says. “Their various styles and approaches to writing fiction have been a definite influence on my writing.”

On the staff of the Seattle Post-Intelligencer for 30 years, Ramon advanced from staff artist to magazine art director to cartoonist. “I worked with some of the finest writers and editors in the Northwest,” he recalls. Even though he was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 1980, he continued at the newspaper until 1995. When he lost small-muscle control in his hands, he turned to writing in order to stay involved with the creative act. “I type with one finger and the top of my pointed head,” he says.

Now living outside Las Vegas “in a little Huckleberry Finn town on the northeast edge of the Mojave Desert,” Ramon says his main career these days besides writing is “defying gravity.” He explains, “I walk and talk like Donald Duck, and I have a high-pitched whine that drives the neighbor’s dog bonkers. Without the care of my Irish wife, Nicky (a.k.a. The Lucky Kid), I would’ve been in an assisted living home ten years ago. Other than that, we laugh a lot.”

While teaching cartooning at the university level, Ramon would remind his students, “To be a cartoonist, you MUST learn to write, to boil things down. There isn’t room in a cartoon balloon for adjectives and adverbs.” To new writers, he says, “Any creative act consists of giving birth to an original idea. There’s always a chance some stranger will peek into the crib and say your baby is ugly. Get used to it.”

The editor at a now defunct literary journal accepted Ramon’s first story and then revised it without permission. “He turned it into a corny Abbott & Costello comedy routine. I was not happy,” Ramon recalls. “I retired to my club, the Backstop Tavern, and consulted my therapist, Dr. Jim Beam.”

After that, Skyline (NY) Publications (also defunct) published six or seven of his stories and Ramon won its 2002 Short Story Competition. Since then, most of his stories have appeared online. He comments wryly, “I often wonder if I was responsible for these magazines going belly up.” He also notes, “With Mother Nature’s help, I’ll be 76 on Saint Patrick’s Day. My modest success writing fiction makes me proud.”

VEE SHANAHAN
“How did I feel when ‘The Secret’ was accepted for publication?” Vee Shanahan muses. “As if I’d been given an undeserved present. Actually, as strange as it sounds, it is a bit like having a new baby in the house, but you get to sleep through the night and there are no dirty diapers.”

Vee’s flash fiction story received honorable mention and appeared in the February issue of Fiction Flyer e-zine on page seven. She uses the name Dina Graham for her writing out of respect for her two grandmothers.

“I joined WVU early in its career,” Vee says, “and I consider that decision to be one of the more intelligent I’ve ever made.” She enjoys the classes and feels she’s benefited from interacting with the outstanding writers and personalities. “I am glad to know that I occasionally make an intelligent decision,” she adds. “All is not lost.”

A longtime member of Addled Muses, Vee points out the international scope of that study group. “Steve, our British leader, who denies he is a leader but acknowledges being British, writes brilliant stories, books and plays,” she says. “AJ’s contributions from France are terrific, along with those of my fellow Americans, Roy, Chuck, and Ginny.”

Vee hopped on board the Micro Bus study group only recently to learn more about the art of writing short fiction. “Ramon Collins, who is the driver on the Bus, is a gift to all of us who participate. An excellent writer himself, Ramon knows how to effectively critique without being sarcastic or mean,” she says. “How good is that? Priceless!” Her story, “The Secret,” evolved from her work in this group.

Born in Chicago, a city she adores, Vee went to school there and in California before attending college in central Illinois. “I was one of the country’s three hundred trillion English majors,” she says. “You have to be interested in writing to survive.” Later, she lived in Massachusetts and Connecticut with her mathematician husband and spent time in England, France and Ireland as well. “When we uprooted all nine kids to live abroad, people thought my husband and I were being a bit, well, crazy,” Vee recalls. “Having nine kids sounds nutty enough, but then to cart them around the world like that? Well, if the shoe fits!”

Now living in South Carolina, Vee starts the day by signing onto her computer. “I check e-mail, check Micro Bus, check Addled Muses, do some running around, complain about the news to my husband and then finally at noon, I settle down to writing.” She keeps a journal and often draws from it, particularly for her travel articles. She is currently working on two books.

One book involves a murder in an art museum. “I’ve worked in art museums. Love that kind of work, as well as the people involved in it,” Vee says. About her other book, which takes place in Chicago during the depression, she says, “I have a trove of stories handed down by family members, and this book is gaining prominence in my life. I keep shifting the protagonist around from a child to a father. I can’t decide where to settle it. Maybe I should work on the mother?”

Vee is also a published poet. “I was truly fortunate to belong to a group of outstanding poets led by Arnold Kenseth, who won first prize for the American Scholar Poetry Competition,” she says. As a young man, Kenseth had worked with Robert Frost and T. S. Eliot and also knew e. e. cummings and Wallace Stevens. “Talk about feeling humble! Yikes!” she says, laughing. “And yet, he was such a humble man himself. Well, as my mother said, ‘Comparisons are odious, so don’t go there.’

“My advice to new writers is the same advice writers have been handing out for years,” Vee continues. “Don’t give up. Read books about writing, but take them all with a grain of salt.” She struggles sometimes with her inner critic. “I keep telling myself that I should be no harder on me than I am on other writers, but that gets me nowhere because I don’t believe it,” she admits before offering one more writing tip. “Follow submission guidelines relentlessly.”

JILL O’CONNOR
Jill O’Connor, the other Micro Bus rider whose story won honorable mention in February’s Fiction Flyer credits her study group. “If it wasn’t for the Micro Bus, Ramon, and my fellow riders, I wouldn’t have had the confidence to submit the story,” she says.

The Micro Bus started in November, evolving from Ramon Collins’s flash fiction course, and Jill thinks he’s been a fantastic driver. “He provides us with weekly prompts and then we critique each other’s work,” she explains. “We learn so much from each other, what works, what doesn’t. Thanks to the positive support we provide each other, we have all become better, more confident writers.”

“Not a Martyr” was the first story Jill had ever submitted. “I was shocked that it was being published,” she remembers.” It was around Christmas time when I found out. I celebrated by getting ‘merry’ with my husband and a few friends.” The story, called a drabble and made up of exactly one hundred words, will also be posted at Dragon Eye, PI.

Jill grew up in central Pennsylvania and spent some time in New Orleans, where she met her husband Jerry, a musician. They moved to England and lived in Jerry’s hometown, London, for a while before moving back to the U.S. and settling in central Pennsylvania. Also in residence is their cat, Mini-Me, who’s a Sphinx (a hairless breed) and requires a lot of attention because he’s blind in one eye and has a seizure disorder. He loves to sit on Jill’s laptop. “Between my husband, my cat, writing and holding down a full-time job, I don’t have much time for hobbies, but during the little bit of down time I have, I enjoy watching English football (soccer),” she says. Her favorite team is Chelsea.

Flash fiction is currently Jill’s main writing focus. “My characters suit the story I write, but to be honest, they’re pretty disposable,” she says. As with longer fiction, dialogue augments character development. “On the Micro Bus, we usually only write stories of about 150 words,” Jill points out, “although Ramon was generous last week and we got to write 300 words. We don’t have much room for descriptions or background info on the characters.”

Her other writing interests are poetry and magic realism. Of poetry, she says, “I’m not very good at it, but I love it. It’s a good way to organize thought fragments.” She’s also involved in an online group that plans to create and eventually publish a collaborative magical realism project. Jill’s favorite authors reflect her writing interests. She enjoys reading Salman Rushdie, whom she met at a local university, as well as Tom Robbins, Angela Carter, Jorge Luis Borges, Italo Calvino, Aimee Bender, and Gabriel Garcia Marquez. “I could go on,” she says, “but I don’t know how much space you have in the newsletter!”

An ideal writing day for Jill “would hold 28 hours instead of 24. I would have more ideas than I could write down, and I would be able to write in absolute quiet and solitude.” Her actual writing routine begins about 11:00 p.m. when she gets home from work, writing until 2:00 or 2:30 in the morning. On her days off, she also works on stories or assignments for WVU classes.

Regarding her inner critic, Jill says: “I let her have her say. Sometimes she’s right. I could have done better work on a story. Sometimes she’s wrong. I did my best work and have every reason to be proud. I will listen to anything fair and reasonable from my inner critic. Anything else I ignore.”

Although she says her submission technique is spotty, Jill finds time to look for markets that concentrate on magical realism and more surrealist stories. She’s recently submitted pieces to Glimmer Train, the Binnacle, River Styx and Mad Hatters’ Review. “I’ve been interested in writing all my life,” Jill notes. “I just didn’t do anything about it till last year when I joined WVU. Since then writing has taken over my life. It is my favorite thing to do, and I spend as much time as I can doing it.”

Congratulations Shanna, Maria, Catriona, Ramon, Vee and Jill. Your successes renew all of our writing aspirations. Many more writers at WVU have achieved writing success recently and will be featured in upcoming columns. Please contact me at recognitions@wvu.org about your acceptances, publications, e-launches or awards so your achievements will also be included. Be sure to use “T-Zero Recognitions” as part of the subject line.


About the Author
Vivian Reed lives and writes in Long Beach, California. With the patient support of her husband and two sons, she is currently “transitioning” into a full-time writing career. Several of her poems have appeared in literary magazines, and before she became a mother, two of her plays were produced in the Los Angeles area. She is proud to write the Recognitions column for T-Zero: The Writer’s E-Zine.


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Fiction Short Story

by Gary R. Hoffman

A Bug Stompin' Toad

“Man, you must be one huge toad. Your eyes are level with mine.”

“Actually, I’m normal size. You are one huge drunk. You took a header in the sidewalk a few minutes ago. Might want to get that nose looked at.”

The man raised his head slightly. “Boy, I must be drunk. I’m not only talking to a toad, but he’s talking back!”

“I think the fall probably sobered you up a bit. You’re not hallucinating. I am talking.”

“Ok, but how about that little cardboard sign in front of you, 'Will Work for Bugs.'”

“If I can talk, it would make sense that I can write,” the toad said.

“But you’re a toad that can’t catch bugs? That’s funny!”

“I don’t find it so! But, that’s another story.”

The man pushed up on his hands and then to his knees. He finally sat down cross-legged in front of the toad. “So, tell me the story.”

“You really want to hear it or you just intrigued by a talking toad?”

“I guess a little of each.”

“Well, I guess that’s an honest answer. This whole mess started a couple of months ago. I was down by the swamp just minding my own business and zapping in a few bugs. This large dragon fly comes flying by. I whip out the old tongue and drag him in. Now, he’s big enough I can’t get him all in my mouth at one time, so I start working him around so I can swallow him.”

“Let me understand this now. You’ve got him in your mouth, but can’t swallow him.”

“Right, so as I’m working on him, I hear this small voice. It’s coming from the dragon fly. He tells me he’s really a sorcerer who….”

“Wait a minute. He’s a saucer?”

“No, a sorcerer!  A magician! I think you’ve still got booze working on you. Anyway, he says he’s a sorcerer who changed himself into a dragon fly because he just felt like flying around for awhile. He says if I don’t eat him, he will give me magical powers. Well, that sounded pretty good, so I let him go.”

“But you can’t catch bugs.”

“Well, when he gave me the powers, he took away the sticky stuff on my tongue. He said he often changed himself into a bug to fly around when he was bored, and he didn’t want to take a chance on me catching him again. So now, if I see a bug crawling someplace, I run up and try to stomp on him.”

The man laughed and put his hand over his mouth. “So you’re a bug stomping toad?”

The toad squinted at him and frowned. “You think that’s so funny? Remember I can turn you into anything I want to, except a bug. Dumb dragon fly left that out, too.”

He laughed again. “I’m sorry; I just think this is funny.”

The toad closed his eyes and nodded his head. The man watched in awe as the toad started to grow. He not only grew, but sprouted hair all over his body. By the time he was finished, he stood on his hind legs eight feet tall. He growled and had the appearance of a Kodiak bear. His large paw swiped through the air, knocking the man down. The bear devoured the drunk. When he finished, he dropped down on all fours and turned back into a toad.

Moral to this story—If you ever see a toad stomping on a bug, leave him alone. The results might be un-bear-able!


About the Author
Gary R. Hoffman taught English and Speech/Drama for 22 years in Missouri and California. He quit teaching over 20 years ago to go into business for himself. He now lives in a motor home and says, “Home is where you park it!” He now travels the North American Continent, with Sandy and their cat, Callie, and attempts to stay in moderate climates. He has many short stories published in anthologies, ezines, and magazines. He has also won many awards for his short stories.


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Fiction Short Story

by Joyce Finn

Monkey Business

My stuffed monkey lay tangled in the twisted canes of the climbing Rainbow’s End rose. After pulling out some thorns, I found a note pinned to its gold lamé cape. It read: “I’m outta’ here. Took what’s mine.” A little smiley face dotted the ‘i’ in ‘David’.

I never had a clue. Never saw it coming. I know, I know—here I go using clichés again. David says they ooze from lazy minds, but it doesn’t matter what he says—I am not lazy. And to think I left work early to share a bit of news with him. Then this. BAM!

Cradling the monkey, I opened the back door and stood with eyes brimming and unfocused. No kitchen table, no chairs, no wastebasket, no refrigerator, no dirty cups on the drainer, and no hooked rug—nothing. The insides of the cupboards were ol’ Mother Hubbard bare. Even the packets of sugar we nicked from Freddy’s Tavern … gone.

I stumbled from one room to the next. Holes remained where he’d jimmied out the rod brackets for my dining room curtains. Wet splotches pooled on the hardwood floor where vases, filled with red-purple tulips, stood this morning. Not a dust bunny in sight.

Upstairs, light blazed through the unprotected bedroom windows while I shivered in the heat. No his-and-her bureaus, no bedside tables, no bed, no loose change. The barren room echoed with the click of my heels. The closet emptied except for my clothes, dangling from hangers, obviously pawed through in a search for who-knows-what. He even took the lamp my Auntie Ruth, in Australia, sent us last Christmas. Grotesque, he called it. Reminded him of two dogs humping, he said. She meant well, I said. We both agreed it looked better than the bouquet of daisies she sent the year before. They arrived, surface mail, six months later: black, moldering, reeking so badly that windows next door slammed shut. David nicknamed her The Dingbat from Down Under.

Taking the lamp was just plain mean. I suppose if he had more time, he would’ve pried out the toilet and sink or dismantled the banister.

Finally, I stood in front of his study door. He’d often glare down his narrow nose if I interrupted him and Sherry while they collated his latest book, the tenth in a series. Sherry, she of the thin ankles and tinkling Tibetan bracelets, had come on loan from the university.

After all the lectures and book tours on self-help—his specialty—David became an expert on helping himself. My darling husband; this stranger of fifteen years.

The monkey with the gold lamé cape was a gift from David on our third date. We sat, spooned into each other, under the elm overlooking the water at his family’s lakeside home. The damp seeped through my underwear while pebbles imprinted my hips. None of that mattered with his breath against my neck, and that deep voice of his whispering, whispering in my ear.

He said his family had been gypsies from the time of The Great Khan from the Steppes. The monkey was an heirloom handed down from generation to generation. “See the singe mark there?” He brushed a paw against my cheek. “From the great fires of St. Petersburg during the revolution.” On the monkey’s left side, he showed me the rips repaired with tiny stitches after the family fled from the Nazis.

None of it true. I found a “Made in Guatemala” sticker on the monkey’s backside. Besides, whoever heard of gold lamé woven in a yurt? Still, the man could spin a tale so tight you’d believe in fairies and futures if he said so.

He gave me the cigar-smoking blue cat on our honeymoon in Bermuda. The next day, in a storefront on Queen Street under the cruise ship’s shadow, I saw a shop offering stuffed kitties with each purchase of a box of Cuban cigars. He got the cigars; I got the fuzzy fake.

Every anniversary, David added another to my collection. One year a teddy bear with aviator glasses squatted on top of a box of Godiva chocolates with David’s itinerary to China and Japan clamped under its paw. He got his adventure; I got to stay home with the toys.

Silly gifts went both ways. Before we married, he told me his greatest childhood joy was tub time with his little rubber ducky. How it quacked and burbled in the soapy water. One day his mom tossed his ducky to their new pup. It never quacked again. He told that story with such boyish helplessness my insides melted. Each year I’d tuck a little rubber ducky on top of his present.

This anniversary—only two days ago—I gave him a bright red ducky with horns. I giggled when I saw devil-duck at The Museum Store in the Millbury Mall but David ripped it off, held it at arm’s length, and let it drop to the side table. He was equally dismissive of my gift: An autographed copy of Nabokov’s “Lolita.”

When I had searched Barnes and Noble for something suitable, I blushed at Nabokov’s first paragraph. “Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta”

I wished for firelight, wine, and soft caresses. The way he once read to me.

I wandered into the bathroom. No rubber ducky in sight. There, pinned to my stuffed platypus, another note. “Got my ducks in a row. See you in court. Christ, get a life! Lose some weight.”

Back outside, I searched in a radius under the bedroom window for the rest of my furry friends. I found the blue cat, without his cigar, wedged in the oleander. Three others drooped from the wisteria. Careful not to ruin my pantyhose, I found all fifteen. Once dusted off, they weren’t in that bad a shape. I brushed loose leaves from my sweatshirt, hugged them to me, and headed back to the car.

David thought he’d taken all I treasured, leaving me with trash, but isn’t that always what we’re stuck with in life—details and absurdity? I had my plush pets, the house, and the surprise I rushed home to show him. A letter received at work from Auntie Ruth’s solicitor in Melbourne. There, with the death notice, was a generous check, a fortune, made out to me—only me.


About the Author
Joyce Finn is a freelance writer in Boston who has lived in Australia, S. Africa, and Bermuda. Her short stories and travel articles have been published internationally and one play performed in Bermuda.


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In Service To The Spirit And The World: A Celebration of 21st Century Poets

Writers' Village University is please to present "In Service To The Spirit And The World” in honour of National Poetry Month. Poetry reflects the images of the world.

This year’s exhibit is dedicated to the memory of the late Arlene Lawson, a talented and beloved poet, friend and mentor to so many people not only at WVU but out and beyond throughout the world. She touched our lives in so many ways.

This online exhibit was put together to highlight how poetry reflects upon the existing images of the world. It serves to celebrate the ongoing achievement of poets everywhere, to introduce a larger audience to the pleasures of reading poetry and to bring poets and poetry to public attention.

The exhibit features the work of fifteen poets from Writers' Village University.

Gwen Austin, Glennis Hobbs (Glenda Walker-Hobbs), Maureen (Mo) Swanson, Wiltshire, Helen V. Lundt, Connie Walker, Jeanette (Janice) Oestermyer, Virginia Gillespie, Marianne Jones and Stan Dunn are current members of the Advanced Poets’ Workshop at WVU. Kathy Kubik, Linda Austin, Lori Romero, Rolly delos Santos and R. Joyce Heon are former members of the Advanced Poets.

Thanks go to Bob Hembree for granting the space for the exhibit, to Judy Hunt for her help and preparation in getting the exhibit online, to Marin for her introduction and to all the poets who helped with the organization and preparation of the exhibit.

The poetry features a cross section of work and covers a variety of topics from family, nature, social issues, travel, yoga, daily issues in a small town, love and spirituality. Each poet brings his or her own gift of poetry to the exhibit and each shares his or her reflective spirit with the reader.

The exhibit can be viewed here during the month of April and is accessible to everyone.


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Poetics Presents

Cristina T. Lopez

Cristina’s writing has been featured in dozens of online and print journals including the International Museum of Women’s Imagining Ourselves online exhibition, Artella 8 Literary Journal and Bard Song Literary Journal. From 2003 to 2005, Cristina served in Ukraine as a Peace Corps volunteer with her husband, Thomas. They now live in Douglaston, Queens with their newborn daughter, Dalia.

LONG ISLAND BEACH DAY

Taste the sunny summer sea
On my tongue it tingles like the
Pringles that crumble down my front.
You punt the Nerf to your brother;
The game has begun.

I run to the water, sweat dripping,
Children sipping, licking remnants of ice cream.
I scream with the cold.
I’m told to take it.
I fake left and return to our sheet

Complete with thermos of Kool Aid.
The badge girl gets paid and we are safe for today.
I’m burning.
The sun starts turning down to the earth.
You grab the Nerf and head to the car.
We see it from afar and race.

The seats are lava, towels sticky like plasma.
The sun dips. We lick our salty fingers.
Breathe deep, it hurts.
You burp your can of Coke.
Mom says the joke could cost us
Our coming back tomorrow.

No sorrow. We know she can’t resist
The soft humid mist
Of the ocean.
We make the ssshing motion
And soon follow along
Asleep to the song lingering on the radio.

Copyright ©2007 by Cristina T. Lopez




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Poetics Presents

Patricia Harrington

Patricia Harrington's poems have appeared in "When I Was a Child," a poetry collection from PoetWorks and online with LongStoryShort. Her clerihews have been published at Murderous Intent Mystery Magazine and Crimestalkers Casebook. Patricia is co-editor of an upcoming micro-mystery anthology Bullet Points, and her short fiction works have been published in Mystery in Mind and the EX-Factor, among others. She is the author of the Bridget O’Hare amateur sleuth series and lives in the Pacific Northwest.

WRITER’S BLOCK

Morning air fogs my breath when I retrieve the newspaper
Later the sun shortens its stroll through the weary garden
Fat cat dozes on my desk under the reading lamp
Head toasting in its warmth
The window blinds behind my computer are open--
No glare to worry about
Gray clouds now cloister the sun's rays
I stare out the window, fingers on keyboard
Where is inspiration this drab day?
A rose bush responds, arching one, delicate branch
A crimson rosebud brushes against the glass

Copyright ©2007 by Patricia Harrington




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Poetics Presents

L. B. Sedlacek

L.B. Sedlacek's poems have appeared in such publications as "The Aroostook Review," "Poet's Canvas," "X Magazine," "Coppertales," "Inkburns," "Edgar Literary Magazine," "Spiky Palm," "Dispatch," "Heritage Writer," "ART:MAG," "Wild Goose Poetry Review," "Ghoti Magazine," and "Niederngasse." L.B. has received two Pushcart Prize nominations. Chapbooks include "Alexandra's Wreck" (Kitty Litter Press) and "Average Bears" (Assume Nothing Press).

ADDICTED TO POE

Here begins a tale of woe –
a murder with a twist –
by Edgar Allen Poe.
Who on quiet nights I often deem to read
and guessing – often wrong – who performed said misdeed.
The Raven or The Tell Tale Heart
always gets the shivers down my spine to start.
While Murders In The Rue Morgue
prompts me to get up and double-bolt my door.
The Pit and the Pendulum and The Gold Bug
have me looking over my shoulders, peering underneath the rugs.
While The Fall of the House of Usher
causes my hands to quiver, my body to shudder.
The Purloined Letter is clever and smart,
but The Cask of Amontillado makes my breath stop and start.
Once again I begin to breathe
picking up my final read --
The Masque of the Red Death with its ebony clock
leaves me in a state of shock!

Copyright ©2007 by L. B. Sedlacek




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Submissions Guidelines (Updated)

Until further notice, only plain text submissions in the body of the email will be considered.
NO ATTACHMENTS.

What We Pay For

Fiction: Stories should be of interest to writers in general, not just a narrow group.

Fiction should be submitted to fiction@thewritersezine.com. Payment starts at $15.00.

If considered for publication, you will be asked to return an email agreement including your name and address.

Craft Features: Queries about Craft features should be sent to nonfiction@thewritersezine.com.

Payment starts at $15.00, and, if considered, you will be sent an email agreement to fill out and return.

Poetry: Due to the large number of recent poetry submissions, a temporary hold on further poetry submissions is in place until early 2008.

Please do not email us to ask what we pay for in other categories. When we can add to our list, we will include it in these guidelines.

What We Publish

Original short fiction, poetry, and non-fiction, particularly non-fiction related to the craft of writing and interviews.

For fiction we prefer something with a plot and resolution. If we like the main character, we are more likely to accept the story. If the main character has a problem to resolve or has to make a choice, that's conflict, and we love conflict! Too many writers confuse conflict with fight scenes. Don't be one of them. Give us a protagonist who acts, makes choices no matter how hard they are to solve his or her dilemma, not a wimp who drifts along and has to be rescued.

Non-fiction should be related to the craft of writing or be good resource material for writers. Accuracy and originality are vital. No reprints. If it has already been published somewhere else, our readers will spot it and let us know.

What We Won't Publish

Anything that inspires "hate," is defamatory or is pornographic.

Simultaneous submissions.

Material that has appeared elsewhere (reprints).

Seasonal material submitted during the same month (i.e., a Christmas story in December). Our lead time is short compared to print publications, but we do need time to edit, html and proof submission. A good guideline is to submit the manuscript by the first of the preceding month (i.e., submit a Christmas story before November 1st).

Length Recommendations

  • For Fiction, under 1500 words is preferred. We will consider excerpts from longer works.

  • Poetry should fit on one printed page if possible. A maximum of five poems may be submitted at one time (when the hold is lifted).

  • Non-fiction or Craft features have the most leeway in word count. In general these manuscripts should be 750 to 2,000 words. We like to take advantage of the hypertext capabilities we have available and link to charts, graphs, lists and so forth. Thumbnail versions may be included in the body of the article.

Rights

All rights other than first electronic, non-exclusive 'anthology' (for collections of T-Zero: The Writer's Ezine works only), and non-exclusive archival rights (we keep back issues online) are and remain the sole and exclusive property of the author.

Formats We Will Accept

Plain text in the body of an email.

T-Zero: The Writer's Ezine is an HTML publication. This gives us access to a variety of options but it is also a limiting factor.

  • Underlining is used exclusively for links in HTML. Please do not underline in your manuscript. It you are including a link to a webpage for reference, please mark the link the following way: (WEB LINK) http://thewritersezine.com (END WEB LINK).
  • The less than (<) and greater than (>) signs are used to enclose HTML encoding. If you need to use brackets, please use the square [ ] ones instead.
  • Paragraph indentation requires time consuming insertion of multiple HTML symbols. Please separate paragraphs by inserting a hard, blank line between them.
  • Fonts need to be simple. No multiple fonts. We prefer standard fonts such as Times New Roman, Courier or Arial set at 12 point. If your subject matter requires something else, ask us first.
  • The curly (smart) quotes, apostrophes, the em dash (two hyphens together) and ellipsis … (three periods) become strange and exotic characters when copied from your word processor into email. Check your preferences or options to see if you can use straight quotes. 
  • Text formatting such as bold, italic, centering, bullet list, etc., should be noted in the text by using all caps in parentheses. For example, if you wanted to italicize the word submission, you would type: (ITALICS) submission (END ITALICS).

Editing

We expect you to run spell-check and to check your grammar and punctuation before submitting. We will not reject a submission for a few typos or errors, but will if there are an excessive number of errors.

Note: Since our reading audience is international, we do not require a specific version of English. Use the spelling appropriate to your region.

We will automatically correct obvious typos such as “ton” for “not” and may correct simple agreement problems. For anything beyond that, time permitting, we will return the submission to you with a request for corrections.

Getting to Know You

Fiction and Craft features published in T-Zero: The Writer's Ezine include brief third person biographical notes on the writers. For all submissions, please compose your own bio and include it to save our editors and yourself time later if/when your piece is accepted for publication. We suggest sharing a little about your background, occupation, geographical location and what inspired your story.

How and Where to Submit

We do not accept submissions via US mail. Email submissions only, to the appropriate department, in the body of the email. No attachments accepted.

Fiction should be sent to fiction@thewritersezine.com.

Craft Non-fiction should be queried first. Send query to nonfiction@thewritersezine.com.

Poetry: Due to the large number of recent poetry submissions, a temporary hold on further poetry submissions is in place until early 2008.

Include the type of submission (fiction, non-fiction) in the subject line.

Be sure to include your name and email address in the body of the email.

If you do not receive an acknowledgement that your submission or query was received within a week, please send a follow-up query with “Did you Receive?” in the subject line. In the body of the email, please include your name and email address, the title of the work submitted, and if different, the email address sent from. Do not resend the submission unless we request it.

Good luck!


T-Zero: The Writer's Ezine
http://TheWritersEzine.com

Copyright 1998 - 2007, Writopia Inc. All Rights Reserved

 

© Copyright 1998 - 2007, Writopia Inc. All rights reserved