Thursday, August 31, 2017
Thursday, August 17, 2017
When a writer types the end it is not the end only the beginning of a long process to begin editing. Even if you edit as you go, still you will go back and find errors, weak points in the story that need to be redone. early in my writing career, I did not do this correctly instead I assumed that it was great and moved on to another story. On my first book, I paid for editing not knowing what part the writer had in the process and thought they would make it all right but alas the book was horrible when it came out in print. Now, I write a story then put it aside for a few months then come back to it hoping I will catch most of the errors, plot sags and useless inserts of information. Then my editor gets involved and looks at it with a fresh set of eyes. That is why there has been no new releases to print any of my latest works. I feel the reader will be touched more personal when they immerse themselves into my books taking them away from their everyday lives to live someone else's life even for a short time. I finally wrote a book in the first person and I am starting to enjoy writing in the first person because they become me and I become them. Interesting how you can live a life other than your own and have all the adventures you desire. All the terror, pain and hurt that comes your way. Iron Hearts was the first book I wrote in the first person normally I write in the third person. I know I haven't blogged for a while so I thought when I typed "The End" to Iron Hearts, I would touch base with all of you out there. How is things going with you? Write back, I'm listening and hope you are having a great day!
Wednesday, July 12, 2017
When the words are flowing like water from a faucet, a writer forgets all about blogging or reviewing other books. Right now, My Iron Hearts story is flowing just that way. My fingers can not keep up with my brain as the story unfolds onto the pages of my book. I have to slow my brain down a little or it will get too far ahead and by the time my fingers catch up, the brain is on the next chapter or scene. So there really is no catching up unless you side track your brain for a short while. If you do that, you will lose a few scenes and have to reread the story to have it make sense. I did that with my book Saddle Spur and realized I left out a couple crucial scenes when I was going thru it one more time. I'll have to interject them back into the story for the reader to make sense of what happened and why.
Do you ever while writing have that happen to you?
For those of you that requested a review, I will get back to reviewing when Iron Hearts is complete in the first draft.Then I will take a break from writing so I can read something else and be able to come back to Iron Hearts with a fresh set of eyes that hopefully will spot any gaps in the story or passive flows. Have a great day and share this with your writer friends. Talk back, I'm listening as always.
Tuesday, June 6, 2017
C.J. (Claude James) Bullet was sitting on the porch with his sister, Mandy (that he never knew he had) at their father's cabin in rocking chairs. This was their first time going fishing together. Younger brother Robbie *Robert Bullet Junior) was inside playing video games, leaving them alone to talk. Even though Mandy was underage it was clear that their father (Robert Bullet) and Mandy had sat out here drinking sherry before. She poured herself and CJ a glass of sherry so they could sit and talk.
I didn’t much care for the taste of the sherry but I politely continued to sip, pausing only to ask. “What did you and Dad mainly talk about?” She took a big swig before answering.
“Mostly, we talked about life and people. My Aunt Carmen got us on an interesting discussion. I think I will share it with you. Dad said, ‘Most people have iron hearts, tempered by life’s events. Some people have steel hearts that nothing can penetrate, not even emotions such as love. Some of those with iron hearts build a steel shield around their hearts that is almost as impenetrable. That is to keep from anyone hurting them. He said you are one of those that built a shield around your heart. Nothing could penetrate except for football, not even love." I could tell by her face she was very serious.
“I know I was so blind. I never realized that my father never stayed home because he had another family that loved him. He only married my mother to change her last name because she was in trouble. I don’t think he ever loved her but felt he owed his life to her.” I didn’t realize that between words I was doing more than sipping. The sherry was starting to taste good.
Monday, May 1, 2017
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Friday, April 28, 2017
"Captain, what would you like for dinner?"
"What are the crew having today?"
"The main choices are stir fry with rice made with artificial meat with fresh vegetables from Hydroponics. Or, Spaghetti made with artificial meat meatballs, a salad and fresh garlic bread."
Neil knew the artificial meat was grown in large vats aboard ship, it had a slight meaty favor but was nothing but pure protein. Being so bland, the cooks quickly learned how to season it to make it edible.
"I'll have a little of both."
"What would you like on your salad?"
"Thousand Island dressing."
"To drink with your meal?"
"Iced tea." she walked away to fetch my tea.
Glancing at the wall to his right, Neil still enjoyed the seascape painted there giving the illusion, you were dining on the beach.
Glancing to his left, Neil saw the long line had formed for the crew to serve themselves, cafeteria style. They were quick about it. Being in space, everything was attached or secured in case of the loss of gravity.
By now, Neil felt he was used to it, but the sudden appearance of a head resembling a praying Mantis in front of him caused him to startle.
"Evening Captain." she said in her sing-song voice.
"Evening Poopa." She gave her smile-like feature and retracted her head. She could stretch her neck twenty to thirty feet at will. When he first saw her, he thought her body was a giant walking stick from Earth with a praying Mantis head. Neil soon learned she was very flexible with her twenty appendages, only ten or twelve were used for walking, the others were deft hands that could do multitasks.
"Hey Poopa, you should try this chocolate cake. It is to die for!" Noka shouted in his deep rumbling voice. Poopa never left her place in line, instead extended her neck so her head was just above the horse-like creature that yelled to her.
Neil smiled as Noka cut off a piece of cake with his fork and lifted it upwards to her. Her multi-prong tongue lashed out and cleaned it off his fork.
"It is tasty, I'll try some more" Poopa sang, as she retreated to her body knowing she was next to serve herself.
Poopa picked up up a tray, no plate since she normally only ate the greens. Neil watched as she sniffed each food tray before using a utensil to place some on the tray. As always, they had two or three heads of cabbage, uncooked but sliced in four parts for her. It was her favorite food.
She took no more than a tablespoon of most things but took two whole heads of cabbage. Using the tongs, she picked out her other favorite greens from the salad tray before moving along. At the end, she took a couple of slices of cake before going over and getting her a container of water. All the tables for the crew were built picnic style with benches to sit on. Poopa was unable to sit in them so she went to the one end of the last table by the wall. She made sure her body didn't stretch out and block the kitchen doorway.
Neil noted that all the aliens tended to sit far away from the others as possible at the same table. Poopa was at one end of the back table by the wall. Noka had his pillow seat at the other end. A few humans sat with them, those that seemed to accept the aliens as part of the crew.
Neil knew the reason that they went as far away as possible, sitting at the table next to the Officer's table was Storm, she was the most vocal of the anti-alien crew. The Commander seemed to agree with her.
Neil smiled as his food was placed in front of him. He marveled at how the cooks could take the most simplest foods and make them look gourmet meals.
"Thank you," Neil said turning his attention away from the crew to his plate.
|A.G.. Moye, author|
Born in the cotton fields of Arkansas. Starting writing in 1987 when I got my first computer, long hand before that, my hayloft is filled with old stories. Published in 2011 after being prodded by my wife when she read the first of the Lightning in the Tunnel series books. “Lightning in the Tunnel” series along with “A Stranger comes Crawling”, my first SiFi. Then published T.T. Gristman, my time travel/ love story. Followed by my updated version of my hand written mystery book called “Brandi’s Nightmare”. Then came the series “Chronicles of the Marauder” Marauder Rising is the first book. "Saddle Spur", my first western is in editing. I am writing “IronHearts” and “Doomsday Rock” during editing phase of Saddle Spur.