Writing of Rebecca T. Dickinson
Write simple words.
Mold them, shape them.
Keep them simple.
Who will read them?
The greats.
Sure. There are the greats, but they sit on thrones above.
The ones who want a break from work. The ones who want a break from bills. The ones who want a break from screaming children. The ones who want a break from boyfriends and girlfriends or spouses.
Yes, make words simple.
You never know who will read.
“Love, I get so lost sometimes. Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart.
When I want to run away, I drive off in my car.
But whichever way I go
I come back to the place you are.
… In your eyes, I see the doorway to a thousand churches.
In your eyes, the resolution of all the fruitless searches
In your eyes, I see the light and the heat.” – Peter Gabriel, In Your Eyes
When I first listened to Gabriel’s song years ago, I was not sure what kind of love he was writing about. Just as a reader looks deep into a good book, I do the same with lyrics.
The song came on the radio today. I realized the song could be about a relationship that has lasted beyond the first flames of a relationship. It is one that has grown up a little; one in which you have to walk away from stress. But, you come back and realize how much you do love that person.
John, my husband, has shared me with writing. It tests his patience. Sometimes he does not understand why I need to jot or edit a scene at a certain time. This song reminds me how important writers’ significant others are in life.
Some days John needs to drive off and he returns. We laugh, smile and I put down the pen.
Dedicated to Writers’ boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands and wives
Photos by Rebecca T. Dickinson
A writer begins with more than one goal.
Goals for a writer’s blog cover more than one territory. They could be, in the words of J.R.R. Tolkien‘s Lord Elrond, “scattered, divided, leaderless.”
Each writer’s personality, style and multiple goals are their own. It is up to us to pull those ideas together.
If you are ADD, like me, organization becomes a greater challenge.
When I began A Word or More almost one year ago, I knew I wanted to share knowledge about the literary and writing industry, books, my book, a little cooking, travel writing and photography.
That is a lot, but they are all experiences about which I know.
Writing goals in 2013:
Family, work and the writing demands of two books requires more time.
I am an amateur photographer. Every other week, I want to post one or two pictures.
“Rebecca, there is no money in writing.”
I’ve been accepted to graduate school at Winthrop University for an MAT in English. School does not pay for itself. I will spend more time writing clear, concise; and hopefully, good essays for scholarships.
If you read A Word or More regularly, you know I am married to a book entitled Sons of the Edisto. I am also completing a nonfiction project, private by contract.
Both manuscripts are in the editing stage. Little time is left for a working mother.
I continue to share background stories: The Bannisters: A New Beginning.
I left out a popcorn bowl and forgot to wash it. My parents and brother forgot to wash the dishes piled by the sink.
“What’s the point?”
My husband said, “Nothing, including Bible study—and I will upset you—writing, is more important than the five minutes it takes to clean the dishes.”
I raised my eyebrows at him.
Writing takes time and at certain points in the process there is nothing more important, to me, other than our son and being on time for work.
Balancing time will be at the top of my goal list.
I set a personal goal in 2011 to be published in a creative publication once. I was published three times then and twice in 2012. Back then I was a stay-at-home mom, freelance writer and sometimes substitute teacher. Due to scheduling, not as many submissions will go out. The magic number 1 remains my goal.
Sons of the Edisto has been a long term project. In that time, I set a goal to learn about the publishing industry, how to write a query and always look at agents and publishers’ tastes and backgrounds. I will continue with this goal. Perhaps by the end of the year I will have sent my first query letter for Sons of the Edisto.
Since beginning my writer’s account on Twitter, I am learning how to receive and share valuable information. In other words, “How will this help people.” Not “I’m in Myrtle Beach.”
I am slow reader due to time. I want to read more blogs. I want to read more books. I fall asleep with a book on my stomach.
The goal remains the same.
Time management will change.
By Rebecca T. Dickinson
More Articles about Writing, Goals and Doing it All:
Into Darkness – I Thought I Could Do It All
Giving the Publisher What They Want Dernit!
Start Your Year off Writer: Query Tips
Thank you to Ezines and Publishers in 2011 and 2012:
Blue Ridge Literary Prose, By The Drink, December 2012
Telling Our Stories Press, IMPACT, We Never Said Hello, 2012
paniK: Candid Stories of Life Altering Experiences Surrounding Pregnancy, Grass from the Grave, Help Inspire Others Project, 2011
The Copperfield Review, Out with the Old, 2011
Dew on the Kudzu, The Way Things Are, 2011
By the Drink was published Sunday by Blue Ridge Literary Prose. I was excited to discover the new online literary magazine.
It is my first contemporary story to be published, and my fifth creative publication.
I wrote the original draft of By the Drink in June 2011. It was the first contemporary story I considered to be of any worth. By the Drink was the first story in which I wrote about those who would suffer as a result of the economy.
I have edited the story multiple times.
Editing is a process I have learned to perfect in the last three years.
I call my editing style the turtle approach.
For example, I have worked on Sons of the Edisto—my book—for six and a half years.
By the Drink was an experimental piece as I originally incorporated play script writing. I did not see anything similar to what I had written until I read F. Scott Fitzgerald‘s This Side of Paradise. By then, I had already stripped the style of writing out and replaced it with dialogue.
I had sent the story to a few journals, and received very encouraging rejections. It became the story I wanted to see published the most. I kept editing and making changes.
The story was, without planning, my first to feature satire. It captured sarcasm; a part of my personality not seen in my historical fiction. The second major editing I undertook last fall and winter was to eliminate the amount of sarcasm. As I improved the story, it evolved.
By the Drink finally made the next round.
I am thankful Blue Ridge Literary Prose’s editors had faith in my story. I hope you will click on the hyperlink above and check out other authors and poets’ wonderful work.
By Rebecca T. Dickinson
Thank you to http://exodusinternational.org.
Take up the pages.
They belong to you.
It does not matter what the subject is.
The matter belongs to you, too.
Since the last week in July, my schedule has been abnormal. I chose to take one month off from writing to take time with the boys, John and Charles, and to train for a new job.
So far, so good.
I have written about some of our travels and cooking. While there is one more to come, I thought about what one month off of writing did for me.
It is not something I do often. But, the choice made me think.
What can I write about? I have two novels to edit, but there is so much more to sketch and keep in a folder for future ideas.
Write it honest.
For the first time in one month, I wrote. A poem came out. The piece will be added to a current poetry chapbook I’ve stored away.
~*~
Legend of a Father
They could not understand their father.
The grown children did not want to.
What kind of man lets his first wife
play tricks on his daughters?
What sort of man allows
another to step in as dad?
It cost him one daughter
and her two children—
Two grandsons he never expects to see again.
“He was not a good father,” the grown children would say.
When the clouds turn gray,
it is easy to see him
as nothing but a man cast in black.
“You can’t make a father
out of a man like that.”
The bad father’s daughters chose the paths for their lives.
They picked and sorted from their parents’ lies.
Far away, far away one daughter would stray
to keep herself safe from an unhappy home.
What kind of father would leave such a mark—
that his child would choose to run so far?
Ten years free, he chose to live as he never did
with bartending, parties, and learning to dance.
Women came. Women went,
except for the one
who stayed around.
One wedding ring later and a precious boy,
The father said his son
was something more
than a boy to carry on his name.
He was his best chance at fatherhood.
A second son entered the world
when the father questioned
his second marriage.
He’d fallen out of love
by their fourth year together,
But, the bad father chose to stay in fear
he would lose his sons like he lost his daughters.
How easy it is to fill
a child’s head with lies.
How long they stay,
or for life reside.
The father stayed in the marriage
so this time he was the man to raise his kids.
No other man would ever step in.
The boys would remember the father he is.
Love long dead and sweat to survive
the long twenty years when the father
began to believe he would die alone
after a hoped for divorce when the boys
left for college or another future they chose.
Who would eat stale, molding bread?
Those who starve and see the loaf is still food.
The father’s marriages turned stale in early years.
Not made of love, romance, or the things that last.
He needed a few more years to survive,
and he prayed his sons would love him still.
The father committed the greatest sin.
How could his sons forgive him?
Forgive they would not for they were embarrassed and ashamed.
The bad father once again lived up to his name.
He knocked up a girl.
Age: 24.
Nothing could be as it was before.
The father faced a final decision:
To keep his sons’ loyalty,
or leave for an infant son.
His one present daughter dismissed the father.
He was rotten and wrong.
Nothing could fix him.
On a Father’s Day, he bowed his head and cried.
His older sons sat through a sermon about fathers.
They did not call or text him at all.
No family called the father when his second son
earned his Eagle Scout.
Why would they call the bad father of all—
who’d broken enough hearts and did not deserve
his four children’s ears, conversations, or love?
Did they blame him for the scars of childhood,
or for the day their grandmother died?
The bad father’s mother could not take the shock.
There was an uncle that father loved dear.
A man name George,
So tall and strong.
A woman out marriage gave birth to his son.
His wife said, “If you leave,
you’ll never see
our girl again.”
Uncle George stayed, and saw his son in secret places.
He never called the boy by name.
A two-year old giggles and cheers
when his father lifts him high
to see the band playing on the street.
He was the father who washed his onesies, changed his diapers,
and put him to sleep.
The father who loves the boy’s mother—
not because she is some girl—
but a woman with discussions
of classic movies, French Revolution, architecture, and mountains.
But, no one believes such things.
Not when the world is drawn
on the surface in black and white.
The father’s fifth child will know nothing of
older siblings or bad fathers.
The boy will call
the father the best of all.
By Rebecca T. Dickinson
Two campers light a fire using a propane backpack cook stove.
Light rain trickles from the sky. Drops touch toes, hiking books, stone, and extinguish fire.
Prior to the Great Smokey Mountains National Park, the same men hiked 15 miles up a mountain to an inn. They also carried dinner they wanted the inn cooking staff to prep and serve that night. No luxury accommodations. No food provided except for what they brought.
Just weary feet, raw meat, and picture perfect proof that you hiked to the top of the peak.
The men, like many hikers, went on an adventure for a few days or one. The weekend became more than a short excursion to the Blue Ridge Parkway and Great Smokey Mountains.
Do you know the part in the movie when the music plays faster?
The drum sounds like a heartbeat.
The actor is about to make a life-changing decision.
Earlier in the day, the phone blared as John and I drove past Mount Pisgah. He pulled over. Lawn mowers made noise in the background. The woman on the phone offered me a job.
Not just any job, but one I’d hoped for. The idea of a job had become like a fantasy. In the past two years, I have sat through many interviews. I did not receive one primarily because the place of work was one where no one had a child.
As I looked past peaks, a future lay ahead of me; one I had sought through struggle and multiple freelance jobs. I would become a teacher assistant when I returned from vacation.
No one wants to think about work when they are surrounded by mist, and lime, garden, and ever green colors.
At that moment, my husband and I continued through the mountains with hope for what would come.
~*~
After thought: Where have I been?
If you have noticed my usual bi-weekly posts have gone down to one, do not worry. They will return to two this week. One week of road trippin’ and two weeks of job training have taken away time from writing and reading.
As always, thank you for reading.
Words and Photos by Rebecca T. Dickinson
By Rebecca T. Dickinson
One of the most common conversations I’ve had with writers and friends lately is: What do I do about names in my book? or Can writers name real people in their books? The conversation crosses the road from creative art to business.
I know few writers who want to discuss the business side of writing, but I also know many writers and authors who understand knowledge is essential to move through the business world. I read about the various sides of the profession: from agents, numbers, what to say, how to market the book, etc.
The fact is business practice arm wrestles books and stories when it comes to names. Do you change the names? Do you change the name of the town?
Anna Fields’ book Confessions of a Rebel Debutante changes the name of the private girls’ school she attended in Winston-Salem, NC. She did not change the name of Winston-Salem.
Say that you know you’re writing about a controversial history of a town like me. Do you change the name of the town in fear of a lawsuit, or do you tell the real history with the town’s name intact? I believe you can get away with naming the town, because you are showing history.
In Sons of the Edisto I changed any surname connected to the town of Bamberg, SC. My father told me a man lives there who sues those he believes writes about the old families. Is it grounded in fact? I do not know. I’m not going to risk it, so I changed the names. I am keeping Bamberg’s name. While the town is not much to look at in the twenty-first century, its history is rich.
The railroad ran through Bamberg. Passengers from New York and Miami, Florida spent the night in Bamberg before traveling further south or north. A Ford dealership sat on the corner of Main Street and Railroad Ave. The city had gas stations in the 1920s, and auto mechanics. Bamberg also had a private black school with heating. Why would I want to deny the town its history, good, bad or indifferent?
Using people’s names is another story. In the case of a narrative or memoir, I believe it’s common sense for all names to change. What is the struggle for writers? The challenge is to find a name that fits the person they know so well. A substitute name seems fake at first, and a good writer knows he or she must make the name believable to them before it is presented to an audience.
I had a conversation with an English professor who is writing a memoir. It includes her twin sister who is now deceased. She said, “Every name I come up with for twins seems phony, and I just don’t know how to change them.”
You need to:
When I wrote We Never Said Hello, my published short memoir, I changed my husband and son’s names. Due to the sensitive nature, I wrote it in such a fashion I never needed to give any other character a name. My poems and Cooking Sketches are my most personal works. Most of my poetry is more prose poetry, but I write it so no one is ever named. I also want the reader to interpret the poem or story’s meaning for his or herself.
Whatever you are working on, I suggest reading about your genre to learn more. You’ll do a great job.
By Rebecca T. Dickinson
“We all look around until we come to my mother, who has not said a word since the men entered our home. I see hardness in her I’ve never seen before. Maybe we’re all like that with our mothers. They seem ordinary until one day they’re extraordinary.” (p. 58)
courtesy of http://lisasee.com.
Shanghai Girls reminds me of great barbecue. You want one more piece. The meat is great, and you wonder what the cook put in the sauce. The book reads great, but if you’re not ready for a dark non-stop journey, it will not settle well in your system.
I’ve read Peony in Love and Snow Flower and the Secret Fan. Lisa See remains one of my favorite authors. Shanghai Girls takes a new, twisted road into the world of arranged marriage, a gang, bombs, Japanese invasion and war crimes, racism, illegal immigration, and the fear of communism. At the heart of the book rests the relationship between two sisters, Pearl and May.
For the purpose today’s post, I chose to focus on the family theme. See says she likes to write about the relationships between mothers and daughters and sisters. While I do not have a sister, I understand the family correlation. See says sisters must rely on each other, but they also know where to stick the knife.
“I’ve loved my sister from the moment she was born, but for too long I’ve been like a moon spinning around her entrancing planet. Now I whirl away as the anger of a lifetime boils out of me.” (p. 296)
The above quote extends to all family rivalries and some lifelong friendships. The book spoke to me on a personal and storytelling level. When I read books, I study what the author does, and See composes beautiful descriptions. She also puts as much feeling into the relationship between May and Pearl as possible. The story is a love story: caring, laughter, jealously, heroism, and forgiveness.
Pearl envies May’s beauty and career. May envies the fact Pearl loves her husband and is respected for her brain. Jealousies heat up in their journey, but ultimately, they try to save each other. They share a secret no one can know.
I could not put the book down.
There are two weaknesses in the book. The first, and I’ve read this in other reviews also, is the book ends too fast. See races to the end. The action is still strong, but that brings me to the next point.
courtesy of http://amazon.com.
When you read a book full of action whether it is suspense, horror, emotional impact, or war; I believe the reader deserves a short break from Action Point A to Action Point B. It might be a good place to build a character or show a little back story. I am not saying drag the story out, but just like a good movie, give the reader a chance to breathe. Shanghai Girls lacked recovery time.
As I said, the book reached me on a personal level. I have a close extended family. People know each other’s business before anyone understands what is happening. In the process, words are thrown out like tacs in the road.
In reaction to the book and recent events, I wrote this sappy poem. Family is a love story; more like a love story that evolves from an arranged marriage. In the end, life is happier than in Shanghai Girls.
~*~
I wanted to say, “thank you” for the recipe book you gave to me
in Christmas 2010 to let you know I made the buttermilk chocolate brownies.
It came from a recipe within the book that never collects dust,
but pride or sorrow stepped in to say words as heartless
as a priest who kicks a homeless man into the snow.
I made you a layered nacho dip without onions you despise,
because I wanted to say, “I love you” in my creative way.
But, you were in no mood to consider love,
or the things others had to say.
Do not worry for I never forget who stood by
when my first marriage broke apart.
I know who gave my son his special blanket;
gave me a piece of the Berlin Wall;
and who took care of me in Puerto Rico.
But, you were in no mood to hear gratitude.
You chose to wipe out good feelings by
kicking us in the gut with words sharp, made to sting.
I wanted to say, “I love you,” yet “You’re a mean mom,”
and “shut up” were the only words you could say to me.
By Rebecca T. Dickinson
You want to give it a chance. There is no reason why you should not. You’ve been interested for a long time.
When dating, you meet the person you think—for whatever reason—the two of you should go out. You go on the date with the girl or guy, and you discover your gut feeling was right. What happens when that same premise takes place with a book?
Have you ever had a book you’ve wanted to read for a long time? Perhaps you are intrigued by the subject matter, and you’ve craved that bad boy like a big steak.
I felt the same way about The Autobiography of Henry VIII
by Margaret George. I’ve wanted to read this book for years. I cannot express the sincerity of that desire. But, as with Henry’s multiple marriages, I doubt I can complete it. I’ve set it aside for two weeks, since it takes me a while to read books anyways. It is not in my nature to just give up on a book, especially one I have wanted to read for a long time.
From the time I was ten, I was interested in Tudor England. I read everything historically I could find, including a book about the Tudors’ Welsh origins. What was wrong with Margaret George’s book?
George is a great writer. When it came to Thomas Moore and Anne Boleyn, I faced a few problems. George portrays Boleyn as ignorant and into witchcraft when history shows she possessed intelligence and an interest in changing religious policies. George’s Henry is obsessed with Moore as much as you’d expect him to be with a new wife. Moore doesn’t do things Henry’s way and the back and forth between the two takes up most of the first half of the book.
Stuck at page 472, I think I could finish it so long as I step away from it. I often read other books at the same time. I’ve continued reading Charles Lindbergh’s biography with shorter novels. Now I’m reading Henry VIII The King and His Court because it’s been a few years since I have read Tudor literature, historical fiction or analytical.
Have you ever had a book you just thought: This won’t work? If so, what book?
leadership : : : : motivation : : : : creativity : : : : productivity : : : : content : : : : media
Poetry and Poems
I choose to collect memories instead of things ~ Elena Levon
The world through my eyes...
by Jan Simson
a california girl in kansas. a kansas girl in california.
Writing of Rebecca T. Dickinson
style for street rats and insights from the gutters.
Showing America how to Live
Stories and poems to brighten the soul.
Marilyn Armstrong -- Seeking Intelligent Life on Earth
Murder Down To A Tea
Watch as I amaze and astound with opinions about what TV shows I like!
~ Poetry and Short Fiction ~
"Writing is an act of faith not a trick of grammar" - E.B. White
Daydreamer. Passionate Writer. Music Lover. Photography Taker. Spirituality seeker. Sarcasm Master. Travel enthusiast.
ч.т.д. !
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