Free Range Organic Zombies are Afoot

Greetings and Salutations loyal readers of the blog,

As reported last week the herd of zombies my friend Mischievous Raven and I were raising to supply various industries with Free Range Organic Zombies (trademarked) escaped.  I mentioned that some companies were suing us because of breach of contract.  The entertainment industry is especially blood thirsty it seems when you don’t deliver your product on time.  To add insult to loss of income there are rumors of all the Kings men and all the Kings horses heading our way because some people have lost loved ones to a zombie feeding frenzy.  Now, while I am responsible for the afore mentioned  shamblers escaping, no one can convince me that they can discern one of my Free Range Organic Zombies (trademarked) from the more common feral dead heads that populate the realm.

Just the same Mischievous and I are planning a retreat to Troll Mountain We’ll wait until the public clammer for our heads on a pike to settle down.  You laugh–I tell you they were combing the swamp with torches and pitch forks last night.  It was a scene right out the famous documentary, Young Frankinstien.  Not so funny when it’s your head they have in mind for the end of the pike.  Plus as you may know dwarves are not fond of heights, and that pike is very long.  I’m afraid my head would get dizzy.

Of course the Trolls are no treat to deal with either.  My hope is that we will be able to out riddle them until such time that we can make our way home.  Mischievous is particularlly adept at riddles and his wise cracking nature should keep us safe for a time anyway.  I’m happy to report that The Three Misfiteers have been appeased by my most recent efforts to get their story published.  That at least is a little good news.

And I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the extraordinary Lynn Rush.  She was gracious enough to vist our steamy swamp yesterday and answer all Wicked’s questions and autograph books for fans.  My muse was impressed with her speedy transportation although he prefers bulk over speed. His fully armored and armed HUM-V are proof of that.  His love of all things mechanical had him drooling over the speed she could squeeze out of two wheels.  He tried to hide it from me, but rumor has it he made Mischievous Raven get Lynn’s new release Violet Dawn autographed for him.  Sorry Lynn, but my muse has a tough guy reputation to maintain.

Next week we’ll pick up our talk about characters and what makes them click for you the reader.  I will be asking for you to contribute one of your favorite fictional characters so start thinking about now.  As usual I’ll leave you with a quotation.

This one come from the movie Silence Of The Lambs in honor of yesterdays guest Lynn Rush.

“Hannibal Lecter: A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.”

Write On,

Eerie Dwarf

Chandler Klang Smith

Greetings and Salutations loyal readers of the blog.

If you were up early this morning looking for the Friday edition of Swamp News I apologize.  Things have gotten a little out of hand this week.  It seems my stable of Zombies went rogue this week.  Yes you heard it here first hundreds of Free Range Organic Zombies are on the loose.  That’s the good news.  The bad news is Mischievous Raven and I are being sued for orders of zombies we are unable to ship.  I’ve hired C.Rock Adile as our council to represent us.  He was the only reptile willing to take the case.  So needless to say things are beyond business as usual.

In our continuing effort to include some content on the craft of writing (and being too busy to write something myself) this week I’m reposting Chuck Sambuchino’s column 7 THINGS I’VE LEARNED SO FAR.  from Writer’s Digest March 20, 2013

Click on the link for giveaways and comments.http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/guide-to-literary-agents/7-things-ive-learned-so-far-by-chandler-klang-smith?et_mid=610051&rid=149100502

Please say hello to Chandler Klang Smith whose wisdom far exceeds her years.

 

      

Chandler Klang Smith is a graduate of Bennington College and the 
Creative Writing MFA Program at Columbia University, where she 
received a Writing Fellowship. She lives in New York City. Her March
2013 novel GOLDENLAND PAST DARK is about a hostile stranger 
hunting a ramshackle travelling circus across 1960s America. Learn
more about the book here.

1. A novel is a kingdom that you alone can rule. As author, you have the divine right to do anything you want in your fiction, even over the objections of your most trusted advisors. But as they say, “Heavy is the head that wears the crown” – you aren’t without obligations to the work just because power over it is yours. To the contrary, you are both totally free to make whatever choices you please, but also totally responsible for the consequences. At times, no one else may be able to articulate what’s wrong or missing from your book, but that doesn’t mean that nothing is. You cannot sit complacent in your castle, relying only on the view from your balcony. You must spend time in the alleys and on the backroads, listening to the whispers of secret voices. You must know the people and landscapes of your private country better than anyone else does, or you’ll never properly reign over them.

2. A novel is the dark space under your bed. You know without looking that there are things in the shadows that scare you, things you don’t want to see. But it is your job as the novelist to shine the light past the dust bunnies and lost socks, into the teeth of the monster. In Mark Danielewski’s House of Leaves, he makes this darkness literal – his characters have to descend into a void that’s opened up in the center of their home. But even if your book doesn’t turn to horror, there will be questions you raise that you don’t want to answer, topics that come up that you wish to avoid. It’s a temptation to write around these things, and people do, but your fiction will never be amazing if it doesn’t face the fear and threat it generates head-on.

(Writing Critiques — how to deal with them.)

3. A novel is an undertaking for the writer, but also for the reader. I loved going to an MFA program, but one thing an MFA program does not prepare you for is the fact that, outside the context of a classroom, you are not entitled to have someone sit down and read your work thoroughly cover to cover just because you finished a draft. Your instinct may be to react with indignation when agents, editors, or even friends give your book a cursory read, or never reach the end. And sometimes it’s true that they’re simply lazy or overworked. But it’s important to remember that someone’s passionate attention, in art as in life, isn’t something you deserve just for showing up. It’s something you have to earn.

4. A novel is a house (not a storage shed). Novels seem roomy, with space enough for anything you can imagine, but if you’re a hoarder, no mansion will accommodate all your newspapers and cats. If writing a certain passage bores you, it will bore anyone who encounters it. Throw away the clutter, the parts that you would skip over as a reader. “But what if I need a transition to get me from point A to point B?” you may ask, at which point I’d direct you to the “Time Passes” section of To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. That passage takes a pedestrian narrative aim – marking the passage of ten years – and turns it into a breathtaking meditation on the nature of existence and mortality. Make every page of your novel a space worth lingering in.

5. A novel is a fractal. Though fractals might appear to be nothing more that random paisleys or swirling blobs of tie-dye, they are mathematically generated to be self-similar at every scale. That means that, as you zoom closer and closer in on a fractal image, you’ll see that the same pattern is constantly repeating itself everywhere, even at a level that’s invisible to the casual viewer. Novels should operate the same way: the obsessions of the book should assert themselves even in seemingly inconsequential scenes and details, in minor characters and metaphorical language. If an element is crucial to your conception of the work, it isn’t enough for it to come up once, at a dramatic turning point. It has to be present everywhere, all the time. The king of fractaled writing is Thomas Pynchon, whose novels often employ a host of wildly diverse characters and subplots but nonetheless continually return to the same focal elements: the animate vs. the inanimate in V., the parabola in Gravity’s Rainbow, boundaries that divide above from below in Mason & Dixon, etc.

(How to support authors and their book releases.)

6. A novel is a love letter. I don’t believe that thinking about “audience” in the traditional sense is helpful, at least not if your aims are artistic. Soft drink commercials are for a demographic; literature is for individuals. But I do believe that considering the individual you’re writing for – his knowledge, his concerns, his likely reactions – can help clarify what you’re doing on the page. Writing is an act of communication between humans. It’s not a transmission blared out into the void. If you think of yourself as writing your novel for someone who cares (either an actual person or a hypothetical ideal reader), in a sincere attempt to connect, you’ll be more generous, more truthful, more expansive in your vision.

7. A (finished) novel is just the beginning. When I finally completed the last edits on Goldenland Past Darkand sent it off to press, I felt many things, but one was a crushing sense of disappointment in myself – not because I thought the book was bad, but because the whole process taught me so many new things about writing that I’m only just starting to put to good use. “I should have waited to publish,” I thought, “until I knew what I know now.” Then it occurred to me that if I continue to grow and develop as a novelist, I’m going to feel this way at the end of every project for the rest of my life. I don’t know if that’s a depressing or hopeful thought to end on… I’ll leave it to you to decide.

This weeks quotation comes from Bruce Springsteen’s ThunderRoad.

“There were ghosts in the eyes
Of all the boys you sent away
They haunt this dusty beach road
In the skeleton frames of burned out Chevrolets”

Write On,

Eerie Dwarf

 

Writing The Hard Stuff

Greetings and Salutations loyal readers of the blog,

Sorry I’m late but this wheel chair is not good swamp transportation.  Which brings me to how I find myself in this particular contraption.  You may remember that I was invited to lunch by The Three Misfiteers.  Their choice of restaurant was not by chance.  They chose the famous Torture Room at The Four Demons Hotel and Spa.  It seems they are dissatisfied with the progress I’ve been making in getting their book published.

First Molly Houlihan grilled me on what steps I’ve taken.  Then Frank Blase pointed out that a person with my limited intellect should have been able to accomplish all these things in a more timely manner.  ”Even Billy could have done it faster.”  Frank pointed out.  Billy Hashberger simple waited for them to finish.  When the desert tray came around Billy selected The Rack for me.  The staff had to make some adjustments to accommodate the shortened height of a dwarf, but this was quickly accomplished and I was installed on this infernal machine.

I repeated the new pitch or blurb as wicked called yesterday in attempt to win their approval but they were not impressed.  They pointed to the success of Wicked and Snarky.  And they asked why I wasn’t able to do the same.  Billy even had an advance copy of yesterdays post by Wicked about how easy it is to write the query letter.  ”Where is the query letter for our book,” he yelled in to my sweating face.

As a dwarf I often considered doing something to improve my vertical profile, but I was thinking lifts in my shoes or some other painless technique, The Rack never came to mind.  For the obvious reason.  Molly cranked the wheel one more notch, my vision swam into blackness and I heard her exclaim, “I guess we shouldn’t kill him…yet.”

The next thing I remember is waking up in my pad with Mischievous Raven fussing over me.  Needless to say, I’ve had to set my zombie novel aside for a time so that I can show real progress on getting The Three Misfiteers out before the public eye.  This includes the perfect pitch, hook line, query letter, platform from which to launch the book when it’s published and some serious pain killers.  The Rack is toughest on knees and shoulders.

Sitting here working I’m reminded of Paul Sheldon, who fell into the hands of Annie Wilkes (his number one fan) from Misery by Stephen King.  Paul’s task was to bring Misery Chastain (the character in his romance series) back to life.  Mine is to give The Three Misfiteers an opportunity at life.  While it may appear that I have freedom, it is only an illusion, Molly, Frank and Billy can show up at any time and any place to take me back into custody and have their way with me.  And so it’s back to work for me.  Until next week then.

This weeks quote comes from a poem by Maggie Mae titled This Wild Death.  you can read the entire poem at her link http://maggiemaeijustsaythis.wordpress.com

“I am sitting in a mirror,

hurrying truth faster than it has time
to find itself,”

Write On,

Eerie Dwarf

A WRITER’S WORK IS NEVER DONE

Greetings and Salutations loyal readers of the blog,

Since we are all here, it’s safe to say that we made it through the Impenetrable Forest without too many incidents.  Just before we set off with all our gear in place, Mischievous Raven suggested we take some of our Free Range, Organic Zombies (Trade marked) with us.  I laughed at the idea of the zombies as protection, but once again Mischievous proved to be resourceful.  As it turned out the zombies provided us with a sort of extra camouflage.  The rancid odor of rotting flesh hid us from the creatures in the forest who rely on smell to hunt.  The biggest threat came when a flock of Piranha Hummingbirds swarmed in.  They were content to pick clean the bones of our zombie escort until they could barely fly.  We are down three dozen zombies and I don’t know how we’re going to get back yet.  I’m sure Mischievous has something under his onyx wing.

In other news around The Swamp, C. Rock Adile came out of hiding just long enough to learn that Swamp Thing has not forgotten his prediction of the end of the world based on the Myan calendar.  The last time I saw him he was swimming for all he’s worth, closely followed by Swamp Thing who was leaving quite a wake of her own.  It’s been pretty quiet other than that.  The rest of the Evil Seven all have their noses firmly against the grindstone.  That also helps to keep the muses out of trouble as their services are being pressed into action as well.

I’ll fill you in on my interviews with the ghosts next week.  Let’s get down to work shall we?

I attended The second annual Indie Author Publishing Conference and Pitchapalooza last week.  The event was put together by the folks at Changing Hands Book Store and The Phoenix Public Library.  I was overwhelmed with the amount of great content that was presented.  How to pitch your book presided over by David Henry Sterry and his beautiful wife Arielle Eckstut, was my favorite.  They are very optimistic about the future of publishing, and they said, this is the best time ever to be an author.  (Or something to that effect.)

Building your web presence, orchestrated by Evo Terra and his not quite as beautiful business partner Jeff Moriarty, is a close second.  Their energetic presentation was engaging and fun.  (Plus Jeff called me a genius because I use Srcivener to write and edit my work)

Here is the biggest thing I learned at the conference.  Drum roll please.  If you’ve completed your novel, your work has only just begun.  As it turns out literary agents and publishers are not going to come hammering on my front door and start a bidding war to publish my novel.  Okay even I’m not that foolish.  What I actually thought was, getting published is a mixture of  perseverance and luck.  The truth is, as in everything else I’ve ever applied myself to, luck is a direct result of hard work.

When I was much younger, I said to guy who had just sold his company for a lot of money,  ”You’re lucky.”  He replied, “Yeah, the harder I work the luckier I get.”  I’ve never forgotten that.  And so now I’m lacing up my work boots.  It’s going to get ugly because the things I have to do are things I’m not comfortable doing.  The issue here is, my characters have the right to be heard and it’s up to me to give them that opportunity.

Thanks one and all for stopping by, as is our custom here on Fridays I’ll leave you with a quotation.  This one comes from, Ursala K. Guin.

“The unread story is not a story; it is little black marks on wood pulp.  The reader, reading it, makes it live: a live thing, a story.”

Write On,

Eerie Dwarf

It’s that time again

Greetings and Salutations loyal blog readers,

The swamp is humming along at its usual pace.  Mischievous Raven my constant companion and business partner in Free Range Organic Zombies Inc.  He has made a huge sale to the producers of the upcoming movie World War Z.  Once again I’m under the gun to bump up our zombie production.  That is quite a coup by Mischievous and he’s already demanding a bigger cut of the profit.  We’ll be having that discussion in private.  I’ll be introducing the rest of my neighbors as January progresses for any new comers to the Friday blog.

Moving on to todays topic.  The end of the world per the Mayan Calendar.  Some of you may remember that C.Rock Adile designated 2012 as the year of The Procrastinator.  His theory being that anything you put off past 12/21/2012 you will never have to do.  Now C. Rock is our resident know-it-all, and that is being generous.  For those of you who took C. Rock’s advice, I’m sorry.  You’d better get started catching up and making amends.  For the rest of us, we never bought his idea or the book he published explaining it.

Unfortunately for C.Rock, The Swamp Thing (so named because no one knows what she is except mean) did buy into his theory.  He’s been in hiding ever since December 22, and if he is as smart as he thinks he is, he’ll stay in hiding forever.

I mentioned last week that I was going to set some writing goals.  I have not yet done this, but in my defense I thought I’d get some input from the Evil 7 when we get together on Sat. at Smokey’s houseboat.  In the meanwhile keeping my commitment of this blog is a move in the right direction.

I’ve been throwing around some ideas for a short story prompted by an invite to submit one to an anthology for YA horror readers.  this has been decidedly more difficult than I Originally thought it would be.  All of my short story ideas seem to switch to more adult themes.  I’m not giving up, but it caught me off guard.  I will sleep on it tonight and try again tomorrow.

With regards to my current work in progress, I’ve written myself into a corner.  I’m stalling the task of going backwards in the story until I can un-paint myself from the corner.  It’s either that or run across the floor covered with wet paint.  I’ve never been a color inside the lines kind of guy so watch for footprints of wet paint across the pages of my novel.

I’m going to leave you here today.  We’ll get together again next week.  thanks for stopping by The Swamp.

This weeks quotation come from Tom Stoppared.

“Words are sacred.  They deserve respect.  If you get the right ones in the right order you can nudge the world.”

Write On,

Eerie Dwarf

AND I’M OUTTA HERE.

Greetings and salutations loyal readers of the blog,

I hope you all enjoyed the festivities at the Monastery of the Werewolf Monks last week.  If anyone knows how to celebrate a Blue Moon better than they do, I haven’t met them.  And how about the new wine they introduced, the new red had a muted coppery taste with a smooth finish and notes of entrails.  I didn’t think the white was up to par with their Oozing Puss label.  I had a good time and I hope none of my blog followers got caught in the ensuing hunt.  The Werewolf Monks can be a bit brutal during the full moon.  Still, no one parties like they do.

Your humble servant is packing for a lengthy trip outside the realm.  I’ll be gone for three weeks and already am feeling nervous about what might happen in my absence.  You may remember I had to bail my muse out of the slammer just last week.  Left to his own devices he’ll be on bender before my donkey gets clear of The Swamp.  G Anna Conda has returned from her on location shoot with National Geographic, so I asked her watch over my muse while I’m gone.  If anybody can keep him under wraps for three weeks it’s Anna.  I hope for his sake she’s had her big meal for the month or he may find himself  on the menu.

C. Rock Adile has taken to dominating open mic night on Thursdays at Slice Your Own Deli.  Rumor has it he reads from his memoirs all night. This in turn is driving away the Thursday night crowd, even the zombies are leaving.  You know it must be awful if the undead are shuffling away from the all you can eat brains buffet.

My friend and confidant, Mischievous Raven has been on the road taking orders for Blue Moon Zombie Inc, but he’s returning tonight so we can review some of the things he’ll be taking over while I’m gone.  I can’t wait to see him I’ve missed him these last few weeks.  He has an idea for taking the zombies up to Troll mountain.  According to Mischievous we would have the only Zombie Trolls.  Trolls are nasty enough without the added craving of raw, warm, flesh.  I’m not sure this is a good idea, but I’ll hear him out, mostly because you can’t shut him up.

In other news the Wharf Rats are packing up, it appears they had a successful convention this year and said they would mention it to their city dwelling friends.  I’m not sure The Swamp is ready for thousands of rats descending on it from the likes of New York, Chicago, and Philadelphia.

The leeches are still trying to sway public opinion as to their inherent goodness, but once again nobody cares.  Once a blood sucking leech always a blood sucking leech seems to be the public’s disposition on the matter.

Last week I think I promised we would talk about writing this week and we didn’t.  To be honest I have a case of vacationitis, so you’ll have to forgive me.  The next three weeks will be all about writing because I’ve recycled some of my old blogs.  So if you stop by for the stimulating literary conversation, quite frankly you made a wrong turn.  If, on the other hand, you come by so you can wriggle your toes in warm swamp mud and hear about my neighbors you’re in the right place.   I will leave you with an excerpt from a poem about writing, by the ubiquitous Charles Bukowski.

It’s from a poem titled  Neither Shakespeare nor Micky Spillane.

and you heard the angry cop curse in the 

dark

as you were led away.

all you wanted was 2 and a half or five cents word.

son of a bitch, you ached so hard to be a writer

of any kind.

why didn’t they understand?

Write On,

Eerie Dwarf

BLUE MOON

Greetings and Salutations loyal readers of the blog.

Today let’s catch up on the goings on around the Swamp.  Blue Moon Zombie Inc. is doing great since I made Mischievous VP in charge of marketing.  I’ve had to hire the Swamp Thing to help keep the zombies on a strict organic diet.  The problem with letting them free range is you never know what they’re getting into.   But the FDA gets fussy if you advertise free range totally organic zombies and your zombies get into hazardous waste.  The Swamp Thing has a way about her that will keep them in line.  I think it’s her nasty disposition and proclivity toward a violent solution to any problem.  She negotiated a very tough contract with good compensation and a heck of a benefits package, but who’s going argue with her.

You may recall from two weeks ago the leeches went on strike, because of what they said was inflammatory and prejudice remarks about them in the media.  Nobody seems to care except the Wharf Rats who are in town on some kind of convention.  Apparently they use the leeches in some game or other.  There are some leeches crossing the picket lines and the occasional skirmish breaks out.  There hasn’t been too much blood shed yet.  I guess that makes them scabs.  I wonder how they feel about them politically incorrect apples.

I heard the Knights of the Idiotic Table had to shut down The Swamp Shack this week because the muses got out of hand.  My muse is being held for conduct not becoming a muse.  Because we are in the midst of the lazy days of summer in the Swamp, the Evil Seven haven’t been keeping their respective muses very busy, I’m afraid.   If  C. Rock Adile  will open the bail bond office I bail out my muse when we’re finished here.  I’ll have to put his Armoured Hummer up for collateral.

In other news around the swamp today we will see a Blue Moon.  You heard me correctly.  This very night when the moon hits its full splendor it will be the second time this month.  This will be your last time to see a Blue Moon until 2015.  According to Brother Grey Whiskers, at the Monastery of the Werewolf Monks, Blue Moons are not that rare, occurring every 2.7 years on average.  But I can tell you that it is still very much a celebration at the Monastery today with The Marcels song Blue Moon playing over and over again while the monks prepare for an evening of decadent excess.  Brother Grey Whiskers told me the last time they had a Blue Moon celebration was in December of 2009.  He added that years with two Blue Moons are truly rare and the last time it happened was in 1999.

“Now that was an event not to be missed,” He smiled wistfully.  ”We partied like it was, well…1999.”

The next double Blue Moon will happen in 2018, stick around. I’ve been promised back stage passes to the festivities at The Monastery.

Next week we’ll get back to talking about writing again.  Promise.  Right now I have to go bail out my muse. He and I have to get ready for November.  What is so special about November you ask.  It is the month where writers from across the universe go nuts and write fifty-thousand words in one month.  It seems I’ve been coerced, compelled, threatened, cajoled, pushed, dragged, pressured, forced, bullied, browbeat, railroaded, and dragooned into participating this year.  Did I mention against my will and better judgement.

Snarky Dwarf’s whip was freshly polished and just waiting for some excuse as to why I can’t Nano again this year.  In spite of the shiny black leather whip winking at me from across the table I tried.   My dog ate my laptop, crack, I have temporary amnesia, crack, Mars is in retrograde, crack, the world is going to end in December 2012 crack, Starbucks might run out of espresso (short hesitation then) crack crack.

“The second one was for even suggesting such a catastrophic thing could even happen.”  Snarky glared.

Wicked sat next to me Merrily Tumbling along as the whole scene played out.  ”Psst. Quit while you still have a head.”

“So, Nano it is.” I said cheerfully, while licking my wounds.

Next week we’ll talk about how adverbs and adjectives can be your friend during November. CRACK!

That one is really going to hurt tomorrow.

Enjoy tonight’s Blue Moon and stay clear of the Monastery until dawn.  This week I’ll leave you with a verse from Nights In White Satin written by Justin Hayward of The Moody Blues.

Cold hearted orb
That rules the night
Removes the colours
From our sight
Red is gray and 
Yellow white
But we decide
Which is right 
And 
Which is an Illusion

Write On,

Eerie Dwarf

Challenged Accepted…

Yes, that’s right I have been challenged by lovely and talented Liv Rancourt who’s nominated me for One Lovely Blog award. This time around the object of the game is to list seven things about yourself, then nominate other bloggers for the award.  Liv’s list of 7 was her 7 all-time favorite vamp novels (which if you know her, is not a surprise).

Now that it’s my turn, I have to admit that deciding which list of 7 to post was tough.  There are so many to choose from–Urban Fantasy series, All-Time Fav Music, my Fav movies that make you think, you see how long the list can be?  Since October is coming and for some odd reason Knight in Slightly Muddy Armor has been obsessed with firearms, I decided to go with My Top Seven Weapon Choices for the Impending Zombie Apocalypse!

So don your Kevlar, add your war paint, it’s time to get down to business of putting those Zombies in their place (or places as the case may be!)

First up, since I’m a blade woman is the updated version of a katana, the Apokatana found at Zombie Tools. This tactical version of a tried and true blade has a stronger spine than the traditional katana.  With a lethal 28 inches you can be sure to keep those corpse shamblers at arm’s length while taking their heads off!

My second blade of choice would be the Machete.  I don’t care which one you grab, just make it a good one.  This is a great weapon for those who didn’t have the time to study martial arts before the dead rose.  Not only good for carving your way through the moaning hoards of cannibals stumbling towards you, it can also help you slash your way through heavy foliage to help speed your getaway.

Now on to my third weapon of choice.  This one Knight in Slightly Muddy Armor highly recommends and has even offered to pick it up for our anniversary. The Benelli M4.  This gas-operated shotgun is great for us smaller peeps who don’t want to find ourselves sitting on our butts after firing. This way we can keep our feet and take out as many Zombies as possible.

Now, if you have the Apokatana and the Benelli you may find yourself unable to take on any more weapons, but I disagree.  Now my choice for weapon number four is certain dependant on individual preferences but no matter what you choose a small firearm is needed for those tighter situations where you just don’t have time to pull out the big guns.  We’re a Sig Sauer type family, so we’d lean towards the Sig Sauer P226, not just because SEALs tend to like this gun, but come on, it’s dependable no matter the environment.  When the apocalypse hits, there will be more than the environment to worry about!

Choice number five is not only practical but looks totally cool! This is Cold Steel’s Trench Hawk.  It’s a great weapon for tight spaces, plus you can also chop up downed power poles and abandoned houses for firewood!

Up in sixth place are those items you can use that you already own.  Most of us just don’t have the time to stock up on a plethora of firearms, so if the Zombies are knocking, just look around your kitchen.  A butcher knife, a rolling-pin, a solid candlestick, that cast iron skillet, even that hammer you shoved in the junk drawer.  They’ll all work and don’t require years of training to use effectively.  A little messy, but when you’re in the kitchen, messes happen!

And last but not least because no matter the quality of your accessories you must look good while taking out the undead.  Some will prefer the camo look, others leathers, and still others will cross styles. Now if you’re in the hotter climes leather may be out. It can get sticky, but if you haven’t been able to round-up some Kevlar, you really need to make sure your clothing can take a beating, weather the blood and brains they’ll encounter each day, and may even double as weapons.  I’d mention stiletto heels, but everyone knows you can’t run in those things.

I’m sure I’ve missed some, but what would you put up for your list of favorite 7′s?

And because I like to share the love, here are seven bloggers who I’m tagging for the next round of the One Lovely Blog award:

1. Amber Kallyn
2. Mona Karel
3. Rachel Firasek
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WHERE DO WRITERS GET INSPIRATION?

Greetings and Salutations loyal blog readers,

This week we’re going to talk about the creative aspect of writing.  But first let me catch you up on the happenings around the Swamp.  I’ve been very busy with my free range organic zombie business.  Since Zombies are in big demand for films and scientific study I’m doing well in that part of my life.  It pays the bills.  Sadly my writing has dropped off because there aren’t enough hours in the day.  Just last week I filled an order for three thousands units for the new season of The Walking Dead.

I put Mischievous Raven in charge of marketing for Blue Moon Zombies, so he’s been traveling about getting orders.  I have to say his gift for talking has finally found its niche.  I will have to talk to him about his expense account when he returns however.

Miss G. Anna Conda sent us a post card from Brazil where she is currently starring in a documentary about the worlds deadliest snakes.  I think Anna likes the attention, but she too complained of not having any time to pursue her first love, which is painting for her. 

The leeches are boycotting because of our so-called political incorrectness and the use of clichés like “That guy is a blood sucking leech.”  They claim the media treats them badly.  And they  want the word parasite removed from the dictionary.  I mean really, what’s next.

Well let’s move on to our topic.  Where do those ideas come from?  I’m going to start with an excerpt from a short story called Everything’s Eventual by Stephen King.

“…creative people aren’t always in charge.  And when they do their best work, they’re hardly ever in charge.  They’re just sort of rolling along with their eyes shut, yelling Wheeee.”

That is the perfect explanation of how my stories get written.  And it doesn’t take long for horrific things to start happening.  But every story needs a place to start.  A seed to germinate in the writer’s mind.  For me that could be an image, a photo or a drawing.  Sometimes it’s a news story from which I draw out the smallest of threads.

I heard about a trans-continental train getting stranded in the Canadian Rockies.  That was the only fact I heard, and from that I put together an idea for a novel that I haven’t yet started working on.  This minuscule fact could lead in so many different directions.  The possibilities are infinite.  If ten people started to write a story from this kernel it could be a man against the elements, it could be a terrorist thriller, or a romance, a werewolf story, or even a romantic werwolf story.  Unrequited love and all that.

The point here is this.  Ideas are floating around at your fingertips every moment of everyday, and if you’re a writer, all you have to do is grasp one and plant it in your brain.  Ideas are mundane in the wrong hands.  Two non writers talking: 1st guy “Hey,did you here about the train that was stuck in the Canadian Rockies?” 2nd guy “Yeah, I wonder if they ran out of Champagne.”  They chuckle and move on.

It is the job of the writer to turn that into something interesting or horrific.  If like me that’s where your mind tends to go.  In a creative writing class we were given a random page from a magazine and twenty minutes to write a story based on the image.  To my surprise the room filled with groans.  I had a photo of a mid teens boy and girl.  It was probably selling the clothes they were wearing.  I wrote a story of siblings forced to pose for a photo while their separate  groups of friends looked on.

Dictionary definition of Writing: the activity or skill of making coherent words on paper and composing text:  

It is so much more than that.  Writing gives me the freedom to take my characters anywhere and everywhere.  To place them in impossible situations, and let them crack jokes about it after they find a way out.  The idea is the seed.  Characters grow the seed, they water it, prune it, stomp it into the ground and nurture back to life.  Living breathing characters take your mundane idea and scare the wax right out of your ears.  (No Q-tips required).

Since we are on a roll here, next Friday we’ll talk about characters and maybe the Horror genre.  Today I’ll leave you with an excerpt from a poem by Charles Bukowski.

SO YOU WANT TO BE A WRITER

if it doesn’t come bursting out of you

in spite of everything,

don’t do it.

unless it comes unasked out of your mouth

and your gut,

don’t do it.

Until next week, Write On,

Eerie Dwarf

Meet Anna Conda

Greetings and Salutations, welcome back to the Swamp loyal readers,

I promised last week we would have a special guest today.  One of our more resplendent residents and one who is very protective of her privacy, please welcome G. Anna Conda.

The crowd pushes back from the dais one woman screams and faints on the spot. 

Sorry about that Ms. Conda.

“Please Eerie, you must call me Anna.  After all, we’ve been friends for how many years now?”  Her tongue flicks, probably tasting the fear from the crowd.

More than I wish to count Anna.  Again I do apologize for the less than enthusiastic response.

“It’s fine.  Even though I shed regularly, I’ve developed  a thick skin when it comes to the gasps and screams when the general public sees me for the first time.”

What is it, do you think, that causes that kind of reaction?

“Well I am a predator and I’m very good at what I do, but mostly I think it’s the no legs or arms thing that gets to them.  I’m not warm and furry, although I do like to cuddle.  My hugs are world renown, sadly no one who has experienced one of my hugs and has survived to talk about it.”

So what are you up to theses days?

“It’s not polite to ask a lady her weight but I weigh in a little over 500 pounds and I’m 27 feet tall.”

You mean long.

“If you like.  How long are you then?”

I see your point.  Your size is certainly intimidating.

“No one screams and faints when an elephant walks into the room.”

True.  So tell me, what are doing with yourself, between meals that is.

“I’ve starred in several movies and of course the folks over National Geographic and BBC Nature keep me busy as well.   Although the documentaries don’t pay as well as Hollywood.”

Is there any chance we’ll be seeing more of you around here?  I mean I for one like to see your face around the place?

“I don’t know about that.  Aside from The Swamp Thing not many of your neighbors like having me lurking about.”

Do you think you could hold my muse down while we finish the next chapter in Transformation?

“I’m happy to help out where I can, but to be honest one muse is bad enough.  When you get two or more in one place you’re just begging for trouble.  Quite frankly Eerie, the dwarves’ muses scare me.  So I don’t think I can help you out.  Besides as it turns out I have quite a flare for color and I’m doing a little painting in my free time.”

Anything we can see?

“Not yet but I’ll let you know.  C. Rock Adile said he knows someone who owns a gallery.  And he knows someone at the royal court who could hang my work at the Palace.  Maybe even get me  a private showing.”

I hope he doesn’t disappoint you.  You should know that he tends to be…  To be blunt he’s a blowhard.

“I’m not a vindictive serpent, but he hopes he doesn’t disappoint me too.  I have a way of squeezing the truth out of folks.”

I’m quite aware.  Our time is about up Anna but if I may ask one more question.

“EERIE, EERIE, come quick.”

What is it Mischievous?

“The zombies have knocked down the fence and they’re heading toward the Impenetrable Forrest.”

“You seem to have an emergency, so I’ll just take my leave.  Thanks for inviting me, Eerie.”

But Anna I wanted to know what the G stands for.  I say into the now empty space where only seconds ago the largest snake in the world sat staring at me.

“Come on Eerie the zombies are escaping and you know gathering them up is like herding cats.”

I’m coming.  Say hello our readers Mischievous.

“Hey everyone, nice to see you.  What happened to the that one?”  He points to the lady who fell on her face at the site of Anna.

She fainted that’s all.  It’s time to go.  I hope I see you all back here next week.  In the mean time I’ll leave you with this quotation.

Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds you plant - Robert Louis Stevenson.

Write On,

Eerie