Every novelist has unique ways of making a story more interesting to readers. There are many plot devices to use and, as strict as grammatical standards are for sentence structure and punctuation, it still leaves myriads of ways to combine things to create memorable reading experiences. That said, I am constantly in the hunt for better ways of saying things.
Before I actively became engrossed in building novels, I was always a fan of the well-turned and well-timed phrase; often sticking with me for years, maybe even a lifetime. What once had been pastimes have, long since, become research missions. These days, watching movies, reading, or even mundane conversations are potential sources of things said that may, in the moment and context in which they are spoken, be absolutely profound. Yet, the words used are of little import.
Arnold Schwartzenegger stands on a multi-million-dollar legacy that sure wasn’t built on his acting talent or, possibly, his governing ability either. One thing he did do, and very well, was to leave behind a string of phrases that have, over time, become iconic: “I’ll be back”, “Asta la Vista, Baby” and on and on. The point is; never underestimate the power of the written or spoken word. Of course, Arnold was clearly into well-timed irony. I bet everyone can visualize exactly what he looked like as he said these lines.
Another example of a phrase that has stuck with me that may, or may not, be memorable to you was during the original “Road Warrior” movie when Mel Gibson was just a sprout developing his acting wings. Near the end of the movie, he stood battered and beaten before Tina Turner and her filthy band of n’er-do-wells. She looked him up and down and said, “We do make a raggedy pair, don’t we?” The line follows me to this day. I can’t even put into words why, but it does.
A few years back, at a family reunion, an uncle I hadn’t seen in many years walked up to me and stood very close looking up at me. I assumed his vision was poor and wanted to see if he recognized me. I became uneasy because he just stared without saying anything. So, I answered the unasked question, “I’m Bettye and Kenneth’s youngest. Zane is my older brother, but I’m the better looking one.” After another few seconds he squinted and simply said, “So you say.” Suddenly, I had another well-timed line that has followed me and shows up occasionally in my stories. That uncle is gone now, but I remember him fondly for those three simple words.
More recently, in the movie “Avatar”, Sam Worthington’s character, Jake Sully, said several times, varying it only slightly, “Sooner or later we all have to wake up.” When I first heard it, I think I missed the next several minutes of dialogue because that line went round and round in my head as a profound statement applicable to so many different situations. But, there’s nothing exceptional about it as a stand-alone comment. The reason I’ve chosen to write about this today is because yesterday morning, I woke mouthing the line, “Sooner or later we all have to wake up.” I don’t know why I was saying it and can’t be sure it wasn’t aloud.
It would be nice to know, though, what my avatar was doing all night.
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright
Author of
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/2009
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/2007
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press 2010/ ebook available
“Trouble”, short story/CrossTIME Science Fiction Anthology, Vol. IX
“Dancing Away”/short story/Untreed Reads
COMING IN 2012
“Defining Family”
“Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”
“The Last Radiant Heart” (re-release)
Novelist
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright, Author
Friday, June 17, 2011
Sunday, June 12, 2011
What A Fox!
For many years, I’ve chosen to start my day about 4 a.m. It started many years ago when I had no choice but to begin early or lose my job. I had to learn the hard way about consequences of oversleeping. That’s a story for another day.
I’ve never cared for breakfast foods, so that naturally led to lunch before noon, usually long before. Sundays, I take it to extremes and have brunch about nine. I could call it breakfast, I suppose. But, my food choices just don’t coincide. They are, by anyone’s definition, appropriate to later in the day. For example, this morning I stir-fried a Chinese dish, garlic almond chicken.
I’m sure by now you think this is about food and the appropriate times it should be eaten; not at all. I just didn’t want you thinking me weird because I had Chinese food so early on a Sunday morning.
What this is really about, are those times when my thinking is as clear as it gets—when problem solving is easy (or as easy as it ever will be)—when secrets of the universe tease me just beyond my fingertips—near enough that it encourages me to reach farther and, at least, attempt to pick that lock and see what’s behind that door I can’t quite put my hand on.
This morning, soy sauce in hand, listening to Enya and staring through the dining room window to the woods beyond, I determined that if the world could see what I did at that moment, there’d be no wars, no hostilities and, maybe, we could all just get along.
A rabbit came flagging that cotton-tail across the yard followed closely by a fox. Apparently the fox favored an early brunch, too. Foxes have a permanent den beneath a large cedar tree on the backside of the wooded acre behind our home. So, it was no surprise. I’ve seen them often—lots of rabbits, too—no surprise there either. Now, for the shocker, that fox put on the brakes and reversed. It ran the other way. The rabbit came out of the woods chasing it.
I set my fork on the edge of my plate and leaned far forward, just to make sure of what I was witnessing, mind you. At first, I thought the rabbit might be rabid and the fox realized it figuring he’d search for a meal elsewhere.
The fox began running in a wide circle, the rabbit followed until the circle tightened to a point that I couldn’t determine who chased whom. The fox stopped and the rabbit leaped at it. The fox jumped back. Then the fox leaped over the rabbit.
It occurred to me those two unlikely candidates were playing, just playing. I could only assume that the fox had a full belly from some other source and the rabbit sensed that. There was absolutely no animosity between them. They were at peace. I could fill a few fat chapters with the thoughts that episode spawned, but the end message was simple and concise.
What I witnessed, I wished for the world.
My garlic almond chicken suddenly tasted a little better.
Have a great week.
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright
Author of
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/2009
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/2007
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press 2010/ ebook available
“Trouble”, short story/CrossTIME Science Fiction Anthology, Vol. IX
“Dancing Away”/short story/Untreed Reads
COMING IN 2012
“Defining Family”
“Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”
“The Last Radiant Heart” (re-release)
I’ve never cared for breakfast foods, so that naturally led to lunch before noon, usually long before. Sundays, I take it to extremes and have brunch about nine. I could call it breakfast, I suppose. But, my food choices just don’t coincide. They are, by anyone’s definition, appropriate to later in the day. For example, this morning I stir-fried a Chinese dish, garlic almond chicken.
I’m sure by now you think this is about food and the appropriate times it should be eaten; not at all. I just didn’t want you thinking me weird because I had Chinese food so early on a Sunday morning.
What this is really about, are those times when my thinking is as clear as it gets—when problem solving is easy (or as easy as it ever will be)—when secrets of the universe tease me just beyond my fingertips—near enough that it encourages me to reach farther and, at least, attempt to pick that lock and see what’s behind that door I can’t quite put my hand on.
This morning, soy sauce in hand, listening to Enya and staring through the dining room window to the woods beyond, I determined that if the world could see what I did at that moment, there’d be no wars, no hostilities and, maybe, we could all just get along.
A rabbit came flagging that cotton-tail across the yard followed closely by a fox. Apparently the fox favored an early brunch, too. Foxes have a permanent den beneath a large cedar tree on the backside of the wooded acre behind our home. So, it was no surprise. I’ve seen them often—lots of rabbits, too—no surprise there either. Now, for the shocker, that fox put on the brakes and reversed. It ran the other way. The rabbit came out of the woods chasing it.
I set my fork on the edge of my plate and leaned far forward, just to make sure of what I was witnessing, mind you. At first, I thought the rabbit might be rabid and the fox realized it figuring he’d search for a meal elsewhere.
The fox began running in a wide circle, the rabbit followed until the circle tightened to a point that I couldn’t determine who chased whom. The fox stopped and the rabbit leaped at it. The fox jumped back. Then the fox leaped over the rabbit.
It occurred to me those two unlikely candidates were playing, just playing. I could only assume that the fox had a full belly from some other source and the rabbit sensed that. There was absolutely no animosity between them. They were at peace. I could fill a few fat chapters with the thoughts that episode spawned, but the end message was simple and concise.
What I witnessed, I wished for the world.
My garlic almond chicken suddenly tasted a little better.
Have a great week.
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright
Author of
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/2009
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/2007
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press 2010/ ebook available
“Trouble”, short story/CrossTIME Science Fiction Anthology, Vol. IX
“Dancing Away”/short story/Untreed Reads
COMING IN 2012
“Defining Family”
“Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”
“The Last Radiant Heart” (re-release)
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Just a Trip To The Mailbox
It has long been known that extended walks can kick-start thinking and creativity; no secret there—increased blood flow stimulates it—simple as that. But, I’m amazed how many ponderous thoughts circle my brain on a simple jaunt to and from the mailbox, about a hundred yards from the house. Usually those thoughts deal with things I see—birds, trees, sun, clouds—those sorts of things. But, yesterday it was all about the mail in the box that sent thoughts reeling.
If you’re thinking that it must have been something wonderful at one extreme or awful at the other then you would be pretty far off base on both assumptions; the fact is I can’t remember what it was specifically; three separate pieces, I think. But, that’s exactly the reason thoughts were spawned. As I looked at the credit card offers, satellite tv promotional material, AARP insurance offer, or whatever the waste of paper and postage happened to be, I tried remembering the last time I’d received mail that wasn’t an attempt to make it through the eye of a needle into my bank account; which, I must say, is dusty, musty and covered in cobwebs. Fact is: I couldn’t remember the last time I had received welcomed mail of any kind.
As I sighed frustration at having wasted another trip to the box and began walking back to the house, I remembered that I’d heard, once upon a time, the Postal Service whined about unfair competition because email was not charged for and pressed for laws that it should be. I laughed aloud.
I kept right on chuckling when it occurred to me that the Postal Service’s mindset on how to become more competitive is to cut services and raise rates, not become creative and offer unique services and better ways of doing old things to attract business away from email, Federal Express, United Parcel Service and all the others. Why shouldn’t they think that way? That’s how the government taught them to think; competition is for everyone else, not us.
“We should not have to compete; we’re the freakin’ Post Service!” or so they would likely bellow and probably have.
If you think not, then just take a hard look at the current budget crisis in Congress. That’s exactly what our lawmakers are arguing about now. And, in the end, both parties will be responsible for cutting services and raising taxes—not one or the other. But, that’s a rant for a different time.
It’s amazing how the mind rabbit trails over not seeing interesting stuff in the box. By the way, yesterday’s mail was not opened or even made it inside the house. Instead, it was dropped into the trash can on the way. Still, I suppose it’s that tenuous lure of getting one piece of mail that will make all those worthless round trips worthwhile that keeps me going out there and checking. Besides, it’s an opportunity for synapse to fire a little faster and come up with stuff like I’ve written here.
I wonder if this thought is any more important than the mail I received yesterday; probably not.
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright
Author of
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/2009
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/2007
"The Last Radiant Heart"/Virtual Tales/August 2010
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press 2010/ ebook available
“Trouble”, short story/CrossTIME Science Fiction Anthology, Vol. IX
“Dancing Away”/short story/Untreed Reads
COMING IN 2012
“Defining Family”
“Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”
If you’re thinking that it must have been something wonderful at one extreme or awful at the other then you would be pretty far off base on both assumptions; the fact is I can’t remember what it was specifically; three separate pieces, I think. But, that’s exactly the reason thoughts were spawned. As I looked at the credit card offers, satellite tv promotional material, AARP insurance offer, or whatever the waste of paper and postage happened to be, I tried remembering the last time I’d received mail that wasn’t an attempt to make it through the eye of a needle into my bank account; which, I must say, is dusty, musty and covered in cobwebs. Fact is: I couldn’t remember the last time I had received welcomed mail of any kind.
As I sighed frustration at having wasted another trip to the box and began walking back to the house, I remembered that I’d heard, once upon a time, the Postal Service whined about unfair competition because email was not charged for and pressed for laws that it should be. I laughed aloud.
I kept right on chuckling when it occurred to me that the Postal Service’s mindset on how to become more competitive is to cut services and raise rates, not become creative and offer unique services and better ways of doing old things to attract business away from email, Federal Express, United Parcel Service and all the others. Why shouldn’t they think that way? That’s how the government taught them to think; competition is for everyone else, not us.
“We should not have to compete; we’re the freakin’ Post Service!” or so they would likely bellow and probably have.
If you think not, then just take a hard look at the current budget crisis in Congress. That’s exactly what our lawmakers are arguing about now. And, in the end, both parties will be responsible for cutting services and raising taxes—not one or the other. But, that’s a rant for a different time.
It’s amazing how the mind rabbit trails over not seeing interesting stuff in the box. By the way, yesterday’s mail was not opened or even made it inside the house. Instead, it was dropped into the trash can on the way. Still, I suppose it’s that tenuous lure of getting one piece of mail that will make all those worthless round trips worthwhile that keeps me going out there and checking. Besides, it’s an opportunity for synapse to fire a little faster and come up with stuff like I’ve written here.
I wonder if this thought is any more important than the mail I received yesterday; probably not.
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright
Author of
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/2009
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/2007
"The Last Radiant Heart"/Virtual Tales/August 2010
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press 2010/ ebook available
“Trouble”, short story/CrossTIME Science Fiction Anthology, Vol. IX
“Dancing Away”/short story/Untreed Reads
COMING IN 2012
“Defining Family”
“Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”
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