"Anatomy"

Wordsworth once wrote: "We murder to dissect." Have you ever read something that touched you to your soul? That you had to go back and re-read the writing again . . . again. You just couldn't get enough of the writing. This happened to me not long ago. The story took residence in my soul and wouldn't let go. I thought about it all the time. As a writer, I started asking myself, why am I so drawn to this writing? This setting? These characters? Slowly, I began to 'dissect' the story. Not as a reader, but as a doctor tying to find out what made this writing tick. How did this writer grab me into his world and didn't let me go till the last page? That's what I wanted to know. That's how I want to write my story. I sorted through the story by sentence, paragraph, page and chapter. I devoted any extra time I had to this project. I was determined to find some answers. And I did. I'm learning how great writers work their magic and how they make their story a wonderful experience for me, as a reader.

Happy Writing,

Magdalena

Four Paws"

In London, England a woman couldn't understand the strange behavior of her dog. He kept sniffing at a mole on her thigh. His persistent interest caused her husband to take her to the hospital. And it's a good thing he did. The mole was malignant. The early removal of it saved her life, thanks to her dog.

Heroes come in many sizes. Their heroics are expressed in many ways. The response to help and save could come because of training, ingenuity or even intuition. Sometimes, we don't have an answer as to why dogs are heroic, but we have the results. -H.N.Wright

"Be comforted, little dog, thou too in the Resurrection shall have a golden tail."- M. Luther

Sherry/treehugger-peninhand.blogspot.com

"Progress"

Had five days off. Wow. How lucky I'm I. Mapped out chapter 7-10 on my YA. Also, had to read two issues of Sky & Telescope for more research. Found a short poem in the Dec. issue. Would like to share it with you. Enjoy.

"The Music of the Night"

Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendour.

Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender.

Turn your face away from the garish light of day.

Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light.

And listen to the music of the night.

- Charles Hart & Richard Stilgoe

Sherry/treehugger-peninhand.blogspot.com

"Principles of Design"

"The Elements of Style" tells us that a good plan to your writing must be a deliberate prelude to writing. I agree.

This is good advice, especially for new writers trying to figure all this stuff out. First, I recommend read all you can in your genre. Second, find a writer who you most admire and copy them for practice. Look at how the author crafted his design of each sentence, paragraph and chapter. This will give you a platform to practice and a clearer defined structure to follow while you learn. After your practice sessions, you'll begin to design your own procedure of shape or (flesh and blood) to your frame of composition. Call it whatever you like, maps, outlines, or 5x7 cards. These are your 'little helpers' to build and shape your story. It will keep you focused and on track, as you design each sentence, each paragraph and each chapter. The clearer you (the writer) sees the shape and design of your writing, the better change of success.

Happy Writing,

Magdalena

"Technology of the Gods"

For the last year, I've been busy with research for a story I'm working on. What an eye opener for me. How . . . could I've lived so long and not been aware. Should I blame my science teachers? Or just blame myself for being so unenlightened of the universe.  I've come to the conclusion that my brain has been in a deep sleep. Or maybe it just boils down to the old adage of our believe systems of what we have been taught? But, with all the painstaking archaeological research and evidence by writers as Plato and Aristotle, one needs to asked, "Did they come? Did they bring advance technology?" Now, with current quantum physics could these 'myths' be proven true? Could have the Greek Gods been extraterrestrial beings who arrived on Earth many thousands of years ago? Maybe, if so, was it for religious significance, or rather a more practical approach for mankind to live their lives. Time will tell.

I will carefully consider the implications of the possibility of a visit from the heavens.

Happy writing to all,

Sherry/treehugger-peninhand.blogspot.com

"Anger"

Back from the holidays, now. Refreshed and ready to blog. Did a lot of reading and writing. Ran across the following read about 'anger' found it quite profound with great insight. Enjoy the read.

A German philosopher cites the case of a man who was noticed carrying a chain, which from time to time he unrolled and manipulated in silence. One day, some one asked him the reason of this. "This chain," he replied smiling, "is my bridle. I am of irritable temperament, anger has often made me do foolish things, which I have deeply regretted. So, I have made it a rule never to obey any emotional impulse without first letting a few moments pass. As soon as any irritating incident rouses in me, I deliberately count the one hundred links of my chain, thus imposing on my mind a tension wholly bent in making no mistakes in my count. This to me is an invaluable diversion. During the operation my nerves calm down, the inward disturbance is appeased, and in the mirror of my mind, now clear, wise resolutions are peacefully reflected."

The philosopher has not told us any more; but we like to think that after a while the bridle was discarded and that he who conquered strength of character by such original means did not need to have recourse to it very long. (D. Starke)

Until next time,

Sherry/treehugger-peninhand.blogspot.com

"Writing Updates" Purple Dog

Third 'Excerpt' Chapter III

Late in the night, a pale blue light flashed from the back of the cave. Lauren rubbed her eyes and turned over to face Jessie. She was about to doze off when the pale blue light flashed, again. This time it woke her from her sleep. What is that? She quietly uncoiled herself from Jessie and crawled towards the light. She looked around for Rula, but she was gone. The archway hung low, almost touching the cave floor. As she approached the light she heard a humming sound like a ceiling fan. She was almost there when suddenly her head hit a sharp rock, knocking her back. She struggled back up. The light had now shifted to the right and was fading. It shadowed some kind of inscription on the cave wall. She stooped to look closer, but still couldn’t make it out. She rubbed her glove back and forth, pushing the crusted small pebbles away. Slowly, something began to appear. She rubbed harder. Then, her breath caught in her throat. It was a polygon. A five star polygon, called a pentagram. She had studied them last year. The pentagram had been there for sometime, the five point star was barley visible. Below the pentagram were six circles. Carved inside the circles were letters. They were old and hard to read. Her eyes were an inch away, when she made out what the letters spelled. Lauren suddenly felt cold and weak.

Till next time,

Purple Dog