February Code Orange Alerts

– A Baker Rose collaboration AND the Dead Ringer AND a proposal.

Saint Brigit of Kildare was a mighty woman. Her feast day is 1 February, also the pagan festival Imbolc, the first day of Spring. She shares her name with the Celtic goddess Brigid.  Scholars suggest that she is a Christianisation of the goddess. She was a healer. She founded monasteries. She persuaded a hermit called Conleth govern with her.  She was friends with Saint Patrick.  Did you know that in one of her conversations with Patrick she persuaded him to declare the 29^th February a day when women could propose? They say that between St. Patrick and Brigid, the pillars of the Irish people, there was so great a friendship that they had but one heart and one mind.

This year the season of Spring – the feast of Imbolc – of Brigid - began beautifully in Connemara with blue skies and wind.

Do writers who escape from their desks into the wilds listen to the words "winds up to 80 km/h with gusts of up to 130 km/h", on the radio? Not us. These are not poetic words. They're not delivered with enough urgency for us. "Gusts of up to 130 km/h" has an urgency similar to "and and now let's pause for the Angelus…....

Walking up the road towards the Atlantic was exhilarating until the first gust. Suddenly contact between oneself and the ground was no longer assured. The whole Gerard Fleming/Evelyn Cusack thing became experiential. One’s rain jacket became a sail, and the deep, deep watery gripe beside the tarmac ribbon road assumed a ferocious pull.

A wider stance became necessary. One instinctively knew to lower one’s centre of gravity.

By the fifth gust one had developed a new walk – a style that involved one’s wrist and arse making regular contact with the ground. Long forgotten Tai Chi pastures began to spring to mind. Is this what "Snake creeps down and Golden Cockerel stands on the left leg" is for? Is this posture a bit like "Step back and repulse Monkey" or has it more of a "Grasp the Sparrows tail" look about it? Eventually the more appropriate ‘get your arse safely back indoors’ walk was agreed and adopted.

The next foray outdoors was made in a nice big heavy car that kept respectfully inland until a flat expanse of beach presented where the gusts could be enjoyed. Saint Bridget's was safely saluted, and wishes were made for the holy month ahead....

And great things have happened throughout February.

Here are only two.....

Baker Rose is building up a storm
The Baker Rose legend has begun in earnest. This is a true collaboration of kindred spirits. The infamous singer, songwriter, harmonica and guitar player Don Baker has teamed up with my favourite female vocalist and songwriter Clara Rose to produce an album. They go on tour in March. Preview the first single off their new album, The Hardest Way HERE

The Dead Ringer is coming soon...
The amazing writer, artist, poetry diva and finalist of the Irish Writers Centres Novel Fair 2015 Triona Walsh signed the contract for first novel, the Dead Ringer, with Liberties Press on Monday the 22nd. I cannot wait to see this thrilling story between covers.  Here she is working on her second novel.

And, in honour of Brigid, there’s been a proposal – but that for another post.

Things I wished I had said - or written

Do you write because you have to - because you must?  Do you write to make sense of the world?  

Is writing for publication then a very different thing? 

If you, like me, ponder these things - this great article entitled 'Because I do', by Shauna Gilligan is a must-read.

She says......

.....creativity doesn’t care about ego. It just is. We create stories – write fiction – in order to make sense of our world. Because what it really means to be a writer is to live and be vulnerable. To have the capacity for hope and disappointment; to reflect this in your writing. To be that mirror of emotion and action.

Find the full article, entitled Because I do, on Writing.ie HERE

For more great thoughts from Shauna check out her blog HERE

10 minutes, four words, one story

 

Daniel was pale and silent in the back of the car.

For some reason this morning, when we pulled up and I handed him his schoolbag, I tried to hug him.  He resisted, but I noticed he was trembling.  He wouldn’t make eye contact.  He sloped off, eyes downcast, dragging his feet through the school gates.

I had been bringing him to the school since the parent teacher meeting.  If his mother tried he would lie on the ground and scream. I was the authority parent, the tougher one. The look of hopelessness in his stricken face didn’t cause me to falter.  When I commanded him to get in the car he would get in.  When he walked through the gates of the school without a wave I would pull off.  I would arrive at work at usual.  I would attend my meetings as usual.  Maeve, or indeed Daniel, were not to know that I’d hardly eaten since I’d taken on this task.  His face came between me and even my morning coffee.  Tea and a little toast in the canteen at lunchtime was all I could face. 

I wondered how we three were going to face the excesses of Christmas.  How would we behave? What would we talk about?

205

 

22 New Year Resolutions

 

 

 

What was the most memorable writing tip you received in 2015?

 

What is your writing resolution for 2016?

Have you seen these 22 gems compiled by former Pixar storyboard artist Emma Coats?

1: You admire a character for trying more than for their successes.
2: You gotta keep in mind what’s interesting to you as an audience, not what’s fun to do as a writer. They can be v. different.
3: Trying for theme is important, but you won’t see what the story is actually about til you’re at the end of it. Now rewrite.

4: Once upon a time there was ___. Every day, ___. One day ___. Because of that, ___. Because of that, ___. Until finally ___.
5: Simplify. Focus. Combine characters. Hop over detours. You’ll feel like you’re losing valuable stuff but it sets you free.
6: What is your character good at, comfortable with? Throw the polar opposite at them. Challenge them. How do they deal?
7: Come up with your ending before you figure out your middle. Seriously. Endings are hard, get yours working up front.
8: Finish your story, let go even if it’s not perfect. In an ideal world you have both, but move on. Do better next time.
9: When you’re stuck, make a list of what WOULDN’T happen next. Lots of times the material to get you unstuck will show up.
10: Pull apart the stories you like. What you like in them is a part of you; you’ve got to recognize it before you can use it.
11: Putting it on paper lets you start fixing it. If it stays in your head, a perfect idea, you’ll never share it with anyone.
12: Discount the 1st thing that comes to mind. And the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th – get the obvious out of the way. Surprise yourself.
13: Give your characters opinions. Passive/malleable might seem likable to you as you write, but it’s poison to the audience.
14: Why must you tell THIS story? What’s the belief burning within you that your story feeds off of? That’s the heart of it.
15: If you were your character, in this situation, how would you feel? Honesty lends credibility to unbelievable situations.
16: What are the stakes? Give us reason to root for the character. What happens if they don’t succeed? Stack the odds against.
17: No work is ever wasted. If it’s not working, let go and move on - it’ll come back around to be useful later.
18: You have to know yourself: the difference between doing your best & fussing. Story is testing, not refining.
19: Coincidences to get characters into trouble are great; coincidences to get them out of it are cheating.
20: Exercise: take the building blocks of a movie you dislike. How d’you rearrange them into what you DO like?
21: You gotta identify with your situation/characters, can’t just write ‘cool’. What would make YOU act that way?
22: What’s the essence of your story? Most economical telling of it? If you know that, you can build out from there.

Follow Emma Coats on Twitter here

Five minutes - Four words – One Story

Write Something over Coffee every Monday - WriSoCoMo

 On Monday 16^th November…….

 

The taxi pulled up at 5 AM. In the seconds it took to get to the passenger door she staggered, buffeted by the storm.

She could hear the driver lug her bag into his boot. The car shook as he slammed the boot and shook more when he threw his big frame into the driver's seat.

 ‘It is my belief,’ he declared, ‘that the end of the world is nigh’.

 He turned to look at her - ‘Where to my love?’

 

 

 

 ‘The airport’ she said – still trying to struggle out of her hooded jacket.

 She found herself looking at a big plastic daisy on his dashboard.

‘So - you're into flower power then?’ She asked wearily.

 ‘Hah – Daisy can spot a morning grouch a mile off,’ he said…..

ENDS (122)

 

Fifteen minutes -Six Words - One Story….

Write Something over Coffee every Monday - WriSoCoMo

On Monday 9^thNovember…..

Eva sat at the kitchen table clutching her teacup. The large window had steamed. She asked Rosie to wipe it with kitchen towel.

Outside it had stopped raining. The sycamore was laden with dripping gossamer. Gossamer was woven into the sodden lumpen grass.  The path glistened with moisture.

The sky had descended almost on to the house. It was black to the east and west but a shaft of light stretched south to the road. Eva would watch the road now till he came.

 

Rosie had gotten an email to say he was coming. Rosie wanted her to take toast with her tea but the knot in Eva’s stomach was growing. She leaned too close into the window - and her breath – or was at her tea –steamed it again.

‘I can’t see’, she called out to Rosie.

Her voice sounded plaintiff and weak. She cleared her throat.

Rosie came back with a wad of kitchen towel.

‘Eva,’  she said gently – ‘Come sit by the fire – you look cold.’

‘I can’t see out from the fire,’ Rosie said. ‘Why is the window so steamy?’

‘It will clear,’ said Rosie, ‘it's so early, you don't usually get up at this hour.  He won't be here till noon Eva – come sit by the fire.’

‘I must watch,’ said Eva. ‘I need to catch the first glimpse of him. I will know everything once I see him.’

 Rosie wiped the window again making a big circle beside Eva.

She touched Eva's hand.

 ‘You are cold,’ she said.

 ‘This is a cold dawn Rosie,’ Eva said

ENDS (265)

Twenty minutes, eight words, one story.

National Write Something Month (NaWriSoMo) has begun.

 

 

 

 

This morning in the Orchard cafe, writer Triona Walsh is busy developing the stunning plot for her second novel.

 

Meanwhile she challenges me to write a flash fiction piece, in 20 minutes, using the following prompts.

 

1	Occupation	Doctor	Pilot
2	Name	John	Mary
3	Event	An accident	Cup of tea
4	Emotion	envy	sadness

 

So here we go..............

NaWriSoMo

 

 

Mary stares into her cup of tea. It is grey – dish cloth weak – as weak as she could make it. The doctor said it was critically important to drink several pints of water every day. She can't face cold water - so her day revolves around enormous pots of tea. Half a teaspoon of leaves to one large teapot.. Dehydration was how sadness was affecting her - the doctor said. So Mary has a goal – one thing she can do - drink tea.

John and she can hardly look at each other since the accident. His thing is digging. The doctor said he needed to exercise. Mary has become paralysed but John has become agitated. He can barely contain himself. She can hear him digging now - the spade making contact with the stony soil of the garden. She hates the sound. The beds have been dug and re-dug. The vegetables have been harvested and given away. Every autumn leaf is being swept as it lands.......

 

At 11 she will bring him a coffee. She will put it on the bench. She will put a biscuit on the saucer. She will watch from the kitchen as he breaks the biscuit and put it into the bird table. He will stand with his back to the kitchen window lest she might catch his eye. She will see how bony he had become and how his elbows stick out under his rolled up sleeves. She wonders if the day goes faster out there than it does in here. She envies him activity. They never speak now. She can focus on only one thing now - tea.

Both are trying to learn how to wait. When lunchtime comes she will put a sandwich somebody else has made out onto his bench. John will probably not eat that either.

On the hour, every hour, he will go to the radio he had set up on his bench and listen to the news. He will check his phone too for news on social media and emails.

Every hour. On the hour. He only allows himself to look once an hour.

Mary’s phone stares blackly at her beside the teapot...................................
ENDS

Check out Triona's progress here http://trionawalsh.blogspot.ie/