I’m always pleased to support other authors where I can. Pop over to Sally’s Café and meet Melissa
“Anyone and everyone taking a writing class knows that the secret of good writing is to cut it back, pare it down, winnow, chop, hack, prune, and trim, remove every superfluous word, compress, compress, compress…
Actually, when you think about it, not many novels in the Spare tradition are terribly cheerful. Jokes you can usually pluck out whole, by the roots, so if you’re doing some heavy-duty prose-weeding, they’re the first to go. And there’s some stuff about the whole winnowing process I just don’t get. Why does it always stop when the work in question has been reduced to sixty or seventy thousand words–entirely coincidentally, I’m sure, the minimum length for a publishable novel? I’m sure you could get it down to twenty or thirty if you tried hard enough. In fact, why stop at twenty or thirty? Why write at all? Why not just jot the plot and a couple of themes down on the back of an envelope and leave it at that? The truth is, there’s nothing very utilitarian about fiction or its creation, and I suspect that people are desperate to make it sound manly, back-breaking labour because it’s such a wussy thing to do in the first place. The obsession with austerity is an attempt to compensate, to make writing resemble a real job, like farming, or logging. (It’s also why people who work in advertising put in twenty-hour days.) Go on, young writers–treat yourself to a joke, or an adverb! Spoil yourself! Readers won’t mind!”
Interesting thoughts from Hornby says he who has just edited the following paragraphs relating to ‘Blue Star’ or ‘Blue’ as she is known by her friends in the Wiccan world. You might find her in “Under An Ancient Name” after I have edited it down to the back of an envelope.
Blue Star made her way to Simon giving the unnecessary excuse that she had made herself available to him as his Wicca mentor. Taking her seat, she smoothed out her ‘crinkle look’ skirt. Made eye contact with Simon for an instant, modestly lowered her eyes then raised them, showing a hint of mischief.
‘Shall we begin by stating our own positions on the points the speaker has raised?’ Without waiting, although Ben and Simon managed nods of the head, Blue outlined her beliefs.
‘I am a Wiccan priestess and Wicca is the only religion I follow. Nature guides, I follow the seasons like the natural clockwork they are. I believe in a single power, a supreme energy force that does not rule over the universe because, it is the universe. It looks after nature; it is nature and a mass of simultaneous Divine energy.’
‘I’ve been through this so many times, I often question my own thoughts, I guess that’s healthy but hey, who knows? Sorry, I talk lots when I’m nervous. No idea why I’m nervous either, it’s not usual.’
“Editors can be stupid at times. They just ignore that author’s intention. I always try to read unabridged editions, so much is lost with cut versions of classic literature, even movies don’t make sense when they are edited too much. I love the longueurs of a book even if they seem pointless because you can get a peek into the author’s mind, a glimpse of their creative soul. I mean, how would people like it if editors came along and said to an artist, ‘Whoops, you left just a tad too much space around that lily pad there, lets crop that a bit, shall we?’. Monet would be ripping his hair out.”
Your own thoughts are very welcome. I won’t try to edit . . . promise.
I’ve just finished editing a difficult chapter of my work in progress (wip). Four central characters diverted from their road-trip route by a fictional road traffic accident with loss of life. There was a sound reason for this and it may be a difficult scene for anybody with real-life experience of similar events. Editing the chapter contributed to my current spiritual low-ebb.
From fiction to fact, my characters visited a place called Oradour Sur Glane in France. Toward the end of the Second World War the population of the entire village was massacred. Possibly because of one man, kidnapped by the local resistance. Nobody really knows the truth except that 642 men, women and children were murdered.
If you visit Oradour Sur Glane, the old village is preserved as it was on 10 June 1944. The doctors’ car is still in its parking space. There is a sewing machine, babies’ pram and evidence of unnatural destruction.
Not for the first time yesterday (02/10/2017), I spotted a news alert on my computer. Intuition told me not to go there but something over-rode it and I opened a news page on my browser to discover the latest tragedy in The USA. Las Vegas, at least fifty dead, hundreds physically wounded and I dread to think how many psychologically damaged following the actions of one individual.
Something drove that man to that point, we may never know what, but one thing is certain, a range of powerful weapons were at his disposal. He may have had licence to own them and he put them to devastating use.
There is but one road to peace in this world and it does not involve mass-murder whether government sanctioned or not. Power will never bring peace. Only the internal peace of individuals who share their inner-strength can do that. It’s a matter of choice to seek internal peace; it takes courage and confrontation with many of the things we thought we knew. The potential for greatness is within all of us, it comes pre-installed and I don’t mean in a way that nourishes the ego.
Reserach for Beyond The Pyre took me deep into the pyrenees where it must be said that the lifestyle is far from typically French. I’m not going to analyse that now, suffice to say, it is very different up there. When I visit, I can feel it, it is a wonderfully spiritual feeling and life there is certainly not a breeze for many.
Like many places, there are myths and legends. Who knows, some of them might be true. If not the entire story, there might well be messages within.
Jean de l’Ours or John Bear is an old French legend that originated from a village in the French Pyrenees. Traditionally told by word of mouth and passed down through the generations. I have read and reread this story; there are so many possibilities of meanings and interpretations. What do you think?
Once upon a time, a woman meets a large bear in a forest. The bear takes the woman into a cavern and prevents her from getting out by putting a large boulder in front of the entrance.
The woman and the bear have a child named Jean de l’Ours, and he becomes very strong. One day, Jean pushes the boulder away from the entrance, and he and his mother leave the bear’s cavern.
Then, Jean works for a blacksmith, but the blacksmith doesn’t pay him well. So, with some pieces of iron, Jean makes himself a cane and leaves on a journey.
Jean eventually meets three strong men: Roue de Moulin, Coupe Chêne, and Porte Montagne. The four men travel together and find a castle in the middle of a forest. They enter the castle, and on the next day, they decide that three of them will hunt for food while one will stay home and prepare dinner. Once dinner is ready, the person will ring a bell to tell the huntrs to come back and eat. They will alternate who will stay home at the castle every night.
Roue de Moulin is the first one to stay at the castle, and he is preparing soup for dinner. He hears a noise coming from the chimney. Then, a hand, an arm, an ear, and a head fall down the chimney like hail, and they form together to become a man. This man is the devil, and he asks Roue de Moulin to light his pipe. However, Roue refuses, so the devil beats him up and prevents Roue from finishing the dinner or ringing the bell. The others come back to the castle without hearing the bell, but Roue fabricates an excuse and doesn’t reveal what really happened.
Coupe Chêne and Porte Montagne have the same experience as Roue de Moulin when it is their turn to prepare the meal.
A few days later, Roue, Coupe, and Porte are out hunting, and Jean stays at the castle to prepare dinner. When the devil comes down the chimney and asks Jean to light his pipe, Jean hits him and puts a large boulder on top of him. Jean prepares dinner, and he rings the bell to call everyone back to the castle. Before they get back, the devil escapes from under the boulder and goes down the water well next to the stove.
Jean de l’Ours tells his friends the story about the devil and that he has escaped, and the four men look around the castle. Eventually, they see the water well next to the stove and the rope that the devil used to escape. With the rope and the bell, Roue, Coupe and Porte follow, but they get scared and ring the bell to signal they want to get back to the kitchen.
Then, Jean takes his turn, and finds a castle at the bottom. An old woman there tells him she is the devil’s wife who introduces him to the devil. He gives Jean three treasure chests and three princesses. Jean rings the bell, and he and his friends use the cord to lift the chests and princesses to the surface. When they get the chests and princesses to the top, Jean’s friends run off with them and leave Jean at the bottom of the well.
Jean talks with the devil again, and the devil gives him a white eagle that’s locked up in a cage. The devil tells Jean that if he gives the eagle raw meat, it will fly. So, Jean gets on the eagle’s back, gives it some raw meat, and they begin to fly back up the well. However, Jean runs out of meat before the eagle brings him all the way up. So, he cuts off a piece of his thigh, gives it to the eagle, and they continue until they reach the top.
Then, Jean goes to the city with his cane in search of his former friends. When Roue de Moulin, Coupe Chêne, and Porte Montagne see Jean, they jump out of a window, run away, and Jean never sees them again.
Jean de l’Ours marries the youngest princess out of the three given to him. He uses some of the money from the chests to buy his mother a horse-drawn carriage. Jean, his wife, and his mother live happily ever after in the castle in the forest.