Scars

So far, on this journey called life, I’ve managed to acquire three scars.

A scar by my left eye. I fell off the fence at my day care provider’s house when I was four. Her teenage son carried me inside. I had a crush on him. Seriously, who has a crush when they’re four?
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A scar on my elbow. In sixth grade, my best friend and I rode a bike down the stairs of Mark Twain Elementary School. Imagine the Wizard of Oz. You know that bike the mean lady rides…the one who takes Toto away from Dorothy? That’s the bike we were riding, with me steering and my friend sitting on the rack in the back. Needless to say, we wiped out.
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A scar over the left side of my upper lip. This is the big one. Get ready to cringe. Seriously.
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Six years ago, I went golfing with my family and my new fiance. On the tenth hole, I went down to the women’s tee to hit my ball, thinking everybody had teed off. Nope. My brother had gone to the clubhouse to get water or something. Well, he didn’t see me at the women’s tee. He hit a straight, line drive right at my face, and all I could think was, “That ball’s going to hit me.” It did. Right in the mouth. It spun me around and knocked me on the ground and all I can remember thinking is, “My teeth are in the back of my mouth. Why are my teeth in the back of my mouth?” My family said it sounded like a ball smacking into a tree.
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The total damage? My top teeth stayed in my jaw, but my bone busted away and smashed toward my throat (hence, why my teeth were back there). My bottom teeth chipped into a perfect half golf ball shape. And my lip had a hole in it, straight through. My husband said it looked like somebody shot me in the mouth. They rushed me to the hospital, where an oral surgeon gave me ten shots in my face, then went to work, putting my jaw back in place, wiring it so it stayed there, and piecing my upper lip together with a total of forty stitches.
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Can you believe that?
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I don’t golf anymore. Neither does my brother. In fact, I think he was more traumatized by the entire ordeal than I was. Because once the doc shot morphine in my butt, I kept asking people if they wanted to see my lip.
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So those are the stories behind my three scars. The last story is the reason why I have to get a root canal in a few weeks. I already had three root canals after the accident. Looks like six years later, I need one more. Anyway, why am I telling you this? For two reasons.
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One, I thinks scars and the stories behind them are cool.
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And two, it relates to writing. It really does.
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Do you give your character scars? Emotional scars? Physical scars? Do you know the stories behind each scar? Do these scars affect how your character acts and thinks? For instance, if I were a character, I might cringe every time I see a golf ball (I don’t, but I might). I think scars can offer insights and dimensions to our characters, even if we never explain the stories behind them on the page.
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Questions to Ponder: Do you have any scars? Have you ever given your character a scar?
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Writing Update: My short story is out for all to see! If you have time, please go check it out here. Wendy Miller’s short story is published in the same issue. Fun stuff!

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Where to Start? How to Start?

Where should I start my story? Am I the only person who struggles with such a question? Well, my trusty ol’ friend Dwight Swain would say: start with change.

There are three ways you can start with change:
1. Just before the change happens
2. Just as the change happens
3. Just after the change happens

Where you choose to start your story is a delicate balancing act, and here’s why:

1. If you start your story too far ahead of the change, you risk boring your readers.

2. If you start your story in the midst of the change, you risk distancing your readers. When a reader doesn’t understand the existing situation or the characters affected by the change, that reader might not give a hoot.

3. If you start your story after the change, you risk confusing your readers.

How’s that for helpful?

Some advice?
Play around with all three options. Write them. Read them. Have other people read them. And see which works best. What is writing, anyway, if not a huge experiment with words?

Now that we’ve established where to start (sort of), let’s look at how.

How do we start?
The answer is quite simple. Start by raising a question. And do it right away. In the first paragraph. Preferably, in the first line. If you establish a unique and intriguing question, right off the bat, your reader will want, no need, to read on in order to figure out the answer.

Here are some examples from my trusty book shelf:

Dragon Tears, by Dean Koontz: Tuesday was a fine California day, full of sunshine and promise, until Harry Lyon had to shoot someone at lunch.

Question: Why did Harry Lyon have to shoot someone?


Monster, by Walter Dean Myers: The best time to cry is at night, when the lights are out and someone is being beaten up and screaming for help.

Questions: Why is this person crying? Where is he and why is he there? Whose getting beaten up?

The Cure, by Athol Dickson: Riley Keep returned to the scene of his disgrace in the back of a northbound pickup truck with New Brunswick plates.

Question: Why is Riley returning to the scene of his disgrace? Where/what is it?

The Moment Between, by Nicole Baart: She left the world the same way she entered it: swathed in robes of scarlet so red and angry and portentous as to be mistaken for black.

Question: Who is dead? And how did she die?

Questions to Ponder: Do you struggle with knowing where and how to start a story? What are some of your favorite first lines of all time? Why are these your favorite?removetweetmeme

3 C’s – It’s Friday!

Cares:
I have a dentist appointment today. First one in four years. I know, disgusting. Hopefully this doesn’t turn into a concern.

I need to get back into school-mode and start planning for the school year, which leads us to the next category…

Concerns:
Next week is my last week of summer break. Back to school on August 10th. I’m very disturbed about this. I’m going to miss my carefree days with Brogan, going shoeless, makeup-less, and air-drying my hair. I’m going to miss being able to check blogs and write scenes during Brogan’s nap time.

This was an unproductive week in writing. I’ve been unmotivated.

Brogan’s glasses are giving me a headache. He yanks them off his head every thirty seconds.

Celebrations:
My short story, Waiting for Sunset, will be published tomorrow, in Christian Fiction Online Magazine’s August issue. This will be my first piece of published writing. I will provide a link in tomorrow’s Voice Lesson post. I hope you come back and check it out.

Question to Ponder: What are your cares, concerns, and celebrations on this unusually cool Friday morning?removetweetmeme