Musing on the Moon and a Miracle

by Janis Patterson

Today is Thursday. On Monday I experienced a miracle. A true miracle. I am fortunate enough to live in the path of totality of the Solar Eclipse. For several days thick clouds had been forecast (putting my husband into a fearsome temper – he had actually bought a special solar telescope for the event) and on Monday morning the sky was indeed thickly clouded. We had been invited to some friends’ house with an upper deck perfect for viewing; The Husband didn’t even want to go, saying it was a lost cause, but I insisted, so we did.


The whole group – about 10 people – was worried about the eclipse being invisible, but we went on and took our lunch up to the deck and had a lovely meal and good companionship and – Mirabile Dictu! – just about the time the event was supposed to start holes began to appear in the clouds. To make a long story short, we saw most of the eclipse. We did lose a little of the first part of it, but by about one-quarter of the first half there were only a few thin rags of clouds that really didn’t obscure the view. Seeing the dark circle that was the moon inexorably sliding across the face of the sun, nibbling away at the light, was incredible. Sometimes being seen through the thin scraps of cloud it was even more impressive.


The totality was perfectly visible – and perfectly magnificent. While it is both dangerous and extremely stupid to look at an eclipse without proper protective lenses (you can damage or lose your sight permanently), during the totality you can take a short – SHORT, like a couple of seconds – look because the visible corona is the gas, not the sun itself. Seeing that great dark circle, like a hole in the sky, surrounded by a sparkling halo of white is a sight like none other.
During the totality it is pure magic. The world darkens to a late evening hue, but it is not the same – there is a different quality to the light, an almost aqueous thickening unlike any moment in a regular day. One instantly thinks of fairyland or hidden realms – at least I did. The temperature drops perceptibly and there is a silence almost as if time itself has been suspended.


During the 2017 eclipse in Missouri we were set up in the parking lot of our hotel and there was a dog park for the guests. There were about a dozen dogs in residence and during the totality they went mad, barking and jumping and howling and almost knocking over the fence. I had always thought such a reaction was an old wives’ tale, but no – it happened. Perhaps the ‘old wives’ know a lot more than we give them credit for. There were no dogs where we were on Monday, so no chance of hearing any barking, but I did notice that there were no birds flying during the totality. Neither was there any wind, at least where we were, as if the entire world were caught in a gelatinous stasis.
The totality did not last long and the moon began a stately progression away from the face of the sun, inch by inch retreating and bringing back the light. Eclipse glasses went back on, movement resumed and the light became normal again.


I can see why primitive peoples went in such terror of eclipses. Even in our scientific era, when we know exactly why and how they happen and can predict its happening almost to the exact minute it is a wondrous and somewhat unnerving experience.


So what does all this have to do with writing? To be honest, not much. Oh, we can draw neat little moral aphorisms such as ‘expect a miracle’ or ‘never give up’ and they would be true, but really I just wanted to share the magic I felt. We can always use a little bit of magic, can’t we?

Hook, Line and Sinker – The Problem with First Lines

by Janis Patterson

Unfortunately we live in a sound bite age – if you don’t get their attention in X amount of seconds you don’t get it. Time was when authors were advised that you had the first chapter to hook the reader (agent, editor or customer). Then it went down to the first five pages. Then the first page. Then the first paragraph. Now people are leaning toward the first line. Logic would dictate that it would stop there, but in this crazy publishing world I wouldn’t bet on it. With a sad fatalism I’m waiting for a list of sure-fire attention-getting first words. Where things will go after that I don’t even dare speculate.

So what do you do? You grab their attention from the first. Now I’m generous, so I personally work under the three sentence rule. You have three sentences to intrigue them enough to read on. Almost every classic novel violates this rule… some of them adhere to the old ‘first couple of chapters’ convention, which means many if not all would never make it to the shelf today. Of course, novels, conventions and writing styles have changed over the years; what was loved and lionized years – decades – centuries – ago is dead weight today. After all, how many modern people read really old books today for pleasure? (I know some do, and good on them, but we’re talking about modern, short-attentioned modern genre readers.)

So what is it about first lines? People say, you have your cover blurb – why won’t that make them read the book? Well, sometimes it will. It and the cover will usually get the reader to look and pick up the book, but the first sentence(s) will make them want to read the rest. (And like all other things in this more than slightly mad business, this is a generalization. Nothing is ever absolutely certain!)

How? is usually the first question. What do you do to hook the reader? What formula is there to make sure that first line makes them want to continue reading?

The first thing you do not do is start off boring. Don’t talk about the weather, or the pretty scenery, or how much you like your new red dress… unless of course, this is so strange or so much of a clue or whatever that it almost turns out to be the turning point/crux of the story. That’s an individual story call.

Some people just start writing and eventually go back to edit; others end up cutting the first thousand or so words to get a good beginning. Every writer at one time or another has been told “Your story starts in the middle of the second chapter – cut everything before that and lard the information into the story later on.” Other writers can craft a winning first line almost from the get-go. Still other writers come up with a sterling first sentence and then create a story to support it. Even other writers… well, you get the idea. Writing is a highly individualistic enterprise and everyone’s process is different. There are requirements about the finished product, but the process is up to the individual writer.

Back to first lines. Do start off in the middle of something exciting. The hero is caught in the middle of a wildfire or is being stalked by a hungry tiger or is hiding from a gunman – or is being made love to by the most beautiful woman in the world whom he has never seen before. Make his emotions your own. Make the reader wonder (1) how did he get into such a situation and (2) how is he going to get out so much that he has to keep reading.

Once the reader is engaged you can tell the rest of the story – either from that point on or going back to the beginning to tell how he got there or whatever timeline the story demands.

Let’s face it – it doesn’t matter how good and outstanding your story is, or how you present it, the reader is not going to read it unless you hook their interest, and one of the primary tools for that is the first line.

Noise Levels and Other Considerations

by Janis Patterson

This is a noisy world. There are sirens and neighbors and families and appliances… and not even noise-cancelling headphones can guarantee total silence. At least, not at my home with a house reconstruction going on to the west and the neighbor to the east – though a wonderful man in many ways – owning every gasoline-powered piece of lawn equipment ever made. His lawn is beautiful, though.

Now all writers are different. Some like lots of noise, claiming it is a stimulant, while others like pure silence as they say it frees their creativity. Depending on the time and our mood of the moment I daresay most of us fall somewhere in between.

Some writers swear by writing in different places – cafes, car parks, just about any place you can think of. Now when we have to be someplace besides our office, a writer can work almost anywhere, especially a writer under deadline. Have to take your child to ballet practice? Need to get the car worked on? Have a lunch hour at work? You can take a laptop or one of those keyboards that feeds  into your phone (I keep meaning to get one of these, just as soon as I get a phone which can handle it), or even a humble pen and paper, then make use of the time to up your word count.

Other writers believe in total silence – or as total as one can achieve short of moving to an uninhabited mountaintop in some third world country. Noise-cancelling headphones help, as sometimes does a white noise machine, but nothing can truly drown out the noise of the modern world.

As I usually do, I stand firmly in both camps. There are times I write happily in front of the blaring television while listening to The Husband tell me about his day, and other times I have on my headphones, my office drapes drawn and a sign on the door threatening a dire fate to anyone who disturbs me.

So what is the best way to write? I can only speak for myself, but as always my practice varies. If I had to choose just one atmosphere, it would be classical music (either full orchestra or piano only – no screechy strings, please) playing softly in the background, preferably of an emotion and tempo appropriate to whatever I was working on at the moment. After that, as pure a silence as could be achieved. Of course, I would – and have – made do with whatever had to be undergone at the moment.

By contrast, I have a friend – an excellent writer – who is addicted to writing in cafés. Now I admit there are advantages to writing in a café, foremost of all being to command endless cappuccinos by the mere raising of a hand! On the other hand, there is a constant swirl of people and babble of conversation, to say nothing of being the object of curiosity by the customers (“They’re real writers? And they’re working on books?”) for all as if we were some sort of exhibit in a raree show. I am no shrinking violet when it comes to being in the public eye – far from it – but not while I’m trying to concentrate on work.

However – being a fair individual and willing to experiment, I have joined my friend on occasion, and yes, despite being interrupted by spectators telling me about how they have always wanted to write a book, or have a sure-fire idea for a best seller, both broadly implying that I should stop and either teach or co-write with them (grrr) I managed to get a fair amount of writing done. Unfortunately, it wasn’t really writing – just lots of typing that, on a cool-headed reading the next day, was barely one baby step away from garbage. I didn’t try to save any of it, but I did go put on some Chopin, close the drapes and the door and try to salvage the underlying idea.

By contrast, my friend actually wrote a short story that same afternoon, one when it was polished, she sold.

How boring life would be if we all worked exactly alike!

A New Year, A New Me?


by Janis Patterson

Don’t worry – this isn’t going to be an evangelistic paean about how I’ve totally remade myself to claim a glorious and bounteous New Year and the rest of my life. That would be nice, though, but I’ve tried it before and it doesn’t work. For long, at least. I think my record is about two weeks.


No, I’m the same old curmudgeonly, opinionated, workaholic biddy I’ve always been. The only changes are that I am a year older and – for a blessed change – rested. From writing stuff, at least. I finished my 22 novel republishing blitz on 25 October. I was so tired (and cranky, I will admit) that The Husband insisted I take November and December off.
And that proved to be a good thing. I am indeed rested and the creative mind is starting to percolate again. I would like to say that my house is cleaner, but I don’t tell lies. Sadly, it probably never will be, as I totally lack the housekeeping gene… and I thought I’d never marry anyone who was as bad a housekeeper as I, but… A sterling man in every other way, but…


We spent the early part of December in Germany, redoing our favorite Christmas market tour, enjoying good German food and beer and a refreshingly enthusiastic attitude toward Christmas everywhere from the markets to the stores to the street decorations. And the people. Love the people.


It’s a good thing I had no other commitments, as since the third week of December I have been at war with Lufthansa airlines about their last-minute cancellation of the final leg of our inbound flight and the subsequent disappearance of our luggage. My bag was found – in the hands of a thief, no less – but The Husband’s is still among the missing. Not to go into details, Lufthansa has handled the thing very badly and withheld information we need if we are to go forward, information that none of the dozen or so of Lufthansa employees we talked to said we needed. Needless to say, it is going to get very ugly.


Back to writing. Aside from the Lufthansa unpleasantness it has been a lovely two months. Germany was – as always – beautiful and fun. My writing mind is unfolding and starting to bloom. I’ve contracted for two novellas – one a Regency romance for a ‘summer weddings’ anthology, the other a WWI mystery for an anthology centered on July 4th. The other novellas include the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, WWII and Viet Nam.


And that doesn’t address the two nearly-finished books of my own done for my own publishing company and a major new release that has to be stage-managed. I’m even considering releasing a compilation of my blog posts from years past. Plus, we’re off to Egypt again in a short time. This will be my 8th trip and this time I get to see Abu Simbel for the very first time! I’m so excited!


Sounds like I won’t be rested for very long.


A writer’s work is never done. But – it is a lot easier when you are rested both mentally and physically, even if that desirable state only lasts a short time. You have to let the well refill. A happy new year to all of you –

The Problems of Being Dumfungled


by Janis Patterson

Dumfungled is a Scots word that means to be physically and mentally worn out, which is as good a definition of burn out as I’ve ever heard.


Burn out. It’s an ugly word, and an uglier truth, and right now I’m feeling like a charred match.


It’s been a tough year. On the personal front, I lost three long-time friends to Death, two of whom were younger than I. Now that The Husband is retired we have been traveling more, including a recent expedition to dig for diamonds in Arkansas. Yes, Arkansas. It seems that at a rough estimate 25% of the world’s surface diamonds are in the 40 +/- acres of the Crater of Diamonds State Park. Not that we found any – the only things I found were a couple of muscles I didn’t know I had. Ouch!


On a professional front, in case you’ve been living under a rock this year and missed my continual updates, I republished 22 reverted books – each freshly edited, freshly formatted and most with new covers – one every other Wednesday beginning on 15 January and the last one released 25 October.


That’s a lot of work, and a lot harder than you’d think, and because of it I only wrote two new books this year instead of my normal four or five. Oh, and just in case I get bored four dear friends and I are putting out our own anthology in the spring. (Follow this blog for more information…)


I’m tired.


I have a book that I would like to finish, a book I really like, but when I sit down to write it always seems that suddenly there is something else that absolutely demands to be done at that exact moment, like cleaning the dishwasher’s gasket or paste waxing the top of the dining table. I know, I know… escapism.


However, I’m proud of what I have accomplished. Those books are out there, and they will be there for as long as I want them to be.


And to reward myself, I am taking the rest of the year off. My kitchen and office both need excavating, my wardrobe desperately needs some attention and as I sorely need a distraction The Husband is taking us to Germany in December to see the Christmas Markets. He says I need to see something outside the parameters of my computer screen. I didn’t argue!


So this is my last blog for 2023. I’ll be back in January, probably with lots of tales about Germany, and hopefully with a couple of ideas for new books… and the enthusiasm to actually write them!
Wishing you all a Happy Thanksgiving, a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! See you in 2024!