Those Flying Body Parts

Have you ever heard the term “flying body parts”? Flying body parts occur when the parts act independently of the person.

Most of us are guilty of occasionally writing them into our work. They do slip in, especially with eyes. Her eyes swept the room. We all know what that means, but such statements conjure up bizarre pictures and can take the reader right out of the story. Do you see the eyes floating around, controlling the broom? Magic of an unintended kind!

If the person (as opposed to the body part) performs the action, the logic doesn’t jar the reader so much. If body parts, usually hands, feet, or eyes, perform the action, they can create a weird image of the part acting independently of the person. They’re often called flying body parts. Examples:

Her eyes flew upward to the crows. Better, She glanced upward at the crows.

His foot kicked the ball. Better He kicked the ball.

Her hand reached for his. Better She reached for his hand.

Even though readers know what the sentence means, these images can yank them out of the story. Read those body part lines carefully to see if they convey the correct image.

Sometimes, even when the person performs the action, the verb doesn’t work. She shot her eyes at him. It makes the reader wonder how, with a sling shot? She tossed her hand in the air, dismissing him. She can toss her hair but not her hand, or she could wave her hand.

Have you ever been guilty? Have any good examples to share?

Character Motivation and Conflict

In a novel, each of the main characters, bad and good, must have strong motivation. This is what will drive the person to act and react to the events in the plot. The character must want something badly and must have a valid reason for wanting it. This may be reinforced or complicated by secondary motivations.

For example, Grace wants to be head of her company. Okay, but so do a lot of people. What makes Grace’s ambition stand out? How far would she go to achieve it? Why? Maybe her father was repeatedly passed over for promotion and became bitter, eventually killing himself, and her mother had to scrub floors to feed Grace and her brother.

The reason doesn’t have to be melodramatic, but it does have to be strong. To develop this story further, what if her father thought he was rejected unfairly, perhaps because he was handicapped or something that might have caused prejudice?

Grace would share his beliefs, but perhaps as the story unfolds, she finds he was merely incompetent. How would that affect her? Would she have difficulty believing it? Would it change her views? Would she begin to look more closely at herself? These are the kinds of things that make stories interesting and draw readers in—conflict and motivation.

FIRST FRIDAY! Alexander, Graff, Milchman!

This is the exercise where I give three great authors the same photo, and each writes whatever comes to them in 150 words or less. Their different views are terrific!

ALEXANDER

Marla pushed back the guilt at draping over a stranger's crypt and pretending to be overcome with grief. Luring her stalker into the cemetery provided the privacy needed for a showdown. Footsteps rustled the dry leaves, indicating his nearness. Each crackle sent icy shards of fear up and down her spine. She tightened her grip on the carnation, wishing she held a weapon instead of the limp flower. The desire to whirl and confront him was almost overwhelming. But she waited until she sensed him standing behind her.

Focusing on the sound of his heavy breathing and the rapid thump of her heart, she gathered all her strength and prepared to strike out. She straightened, whirled, and delivered a crippling blow to his Adam's apple.

Staggering backward, the old caretaker's gnarled fingers clutched his throat. Marla's jaw dropped. Oh. My. God. What had she done?

GRAFF

It was supposed to be a bit of a thrill, meeting up after dark in Kensal Green cemetery, having sex on top of a crypt. Creepy to some, but it fit my wild side and would show Kev I was up for anything.

Kev wanted to do it on Harold Pinter, but I insisted on Wilkie Collins, the king of gothic novels. That had a kind of resonance to it. Instead of The Woman in White I was always The Goth in Black.

He surprised me with the red carnation, I’ll give him that. “To match the red streaks in your hair,” he said, caressing my face with one hand. I turned into it and licked his palm as it passed over my mouth.

He groaned and threw me up on the hard cement, then roughly yanked up my skirt. “Not like this,” I whispered, as the coldness seeped into my spine.

MILCHMAN

The heroine of my forthcoming debut novel is coping with grief. The story starts with Nora waking to find her policeman husband dead. So when I look at this photo, I see Nora. My book is set during an Adirondack winter, but there is grass in this picture. The ground is not green in the Adirondacks until May, so it must be five months after my story opens, and spring has come to the fictional town of Wedeskyull. Nora is at Brendan’s gravesite. In some ways she’s moved on, but is temporarily overcome by all she has lost. In other ways though, she is shorn. Literally: the woman in this photo has short hair, while Nora’s long locks present a revelation in the mystery. Maybe Nora cuts her hair after laying rest to the secrets and danger that took Brendan’s life. Until I saw this photo, I didn’t know that. 

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BIOS

JERRIE ALEXANDER

A student of creative writing in her youth, Jerrie set aside her passion when life presented her with a John Wayne husband, and two wonderful children.

But the characters went with her, insisting she share their dark, sexy stories with others.  She writes alpha males and kick-ass women who weave their way through death and fear to emerge stronger because of, and on occasion in spite of, their love for each other.  If they’re strong enough, they live happily ever after.

Jerrie lives in Texas, loves sunshine, children’s laughter, sugar (human and granulated), and researching for her heroes and heroines. 

Bridlepath Press

MARNI GRAFF

Marni Graff is the author of The Nora Tierney Mysteries, set in the UK. The Blue Virgin (Oxford) introduces the American children’s book writer, preparing to move from Oxford to the Lake District, when Nora swings into action to clear her best friend, Val Rogan, of murdering her partner. In The Green Remains (Cumbria) Nora’s morning walk takes an unexpected turn when she stumbles over the body of the heir to Clarendon Hall. She finds herself snooping again when her illustrator, Simon Ramsey, is implicated as a murder suspect. Available: www.bridlepathpress.com, Amazon.com and Kindle.

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JENNY MILCHMAN

Jenny Milchman is a suspense novelist from New Jersey whose short stories have appeared in Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, Adirondack Mysteries II, and in an e-published volume called Lunch Reads. Her first novel, Cover of Snow, will be released by Ballantine in January.

Join in! Leave your description in a comment--just remember, 150 words or less. 

Interview with Stacy Juba

How to get this Free book

Today I'm interviewing Stacy Juba, author of several mysteries and a YA. 

GENERAL

When and how often do you write?

It varies by the month.  During the summer and fall, I was focused on publishing a couple of new books and doing a marketing campaign for them, so I only worked on my novel-in-progress once or twice a week. Now the emphasis is going to be on finishing that novel and I'll be writing every day for an hour or two in the morning. 

What inspired you to begin writing?

I started writing in elementary school. I loved to read, and I discovered some college textbooks about writing in a used bookstore when I was about ten. I started doing some of the writing exercises in the books and was hooked.

THE STORY

Which comes first, characters or plot?

Plot. I generally get an idea for a book and then I start brainstorming about what kind of character would be the best fit for the story.

Plotter, pantser, or in between?

I'm a plotter and do thorough outlines, sometimes up to 15 typed pages. My outline does evolve, so it's not written in stone, but I really like knowing what scenes I'm going to be writing the next day and what is coming up. 

 

What’s the perfect atmosphere for your writing?

At Amazon

My ideal writing atmosphere is in my home office when everyone is out of the house and I know I'll have a few hours of uninterrupted writing time.

Which part of the story is usually the most difficult to write?

The middle. It's easy to get started, and usually I have a clear end in mind, but the middle goes on and on. It's important to keep the story developing and to make sure the pacing doesn't drag.

Sex or no sex?

Yes, but I'll cut away so there is nothing explicit.

Bad language?

I'll include PG 13 language.  I don't use any language worse than that in the mystery, romantic suspense and romantic comedy genres that I've been focusing on, as it risks turning off some readers.

Describe the sort of people you like to write about.

I like to write about young women who are getting on the right life path and who are on a journey of self discovery.

Titles—hard or easy? Where did you get this one/most current/favorite?

They're usually easy. For example, the title of my mystery/romantic suspense novel Twenty-Five Years Ago Today stems from my character's job compiling 25 years ago today news tidbits from the microfilm and her discovery of a 25-year-old murder. 

THE CHARACTERS

Would you like to live next door to your characters? Why or why not?

I would like to live on the same street as my protagonists as they are all likeable characters and I have things in common with them.  I share a journalism background with Kris from Twenty-Five Years Ago Today, but she might be a little hard to get to know as she's a night owl, I'm a morning person, and we're both quiet. I'd love to take an exercise class with Cassidy, the personal trainer from Sink or Swim, though Cassidy can be rather mouthy so we might drive each other crazy.   

Which characteristic do you consider most important in your main character?

Characters can't be perfect. They need to be flawed, just as real people are, as that makes them relatable.

ABOUT STACY

Stacy Juba has written about reality TV contestants targeted by a killer, an obit writer investigating a cold case, teen psychics who control minds, twin high school hockey stars battling on the ice, and teddy bears learning to raise the U.S. flag: she pursues whatever story ideas won’t leave her alone. Stacy’s titles include the adult mystery novels Sink or Swim and Twenty-Five Years Ago Today, the children’s picture books The Flag Keeper and the Teddy Bear Town Children’s E-Book Bundle (Three Complete Picture Books), and the young adult novels Face-Off and Dark Before Dawn. She is also the editor of the essay anthology 25 Years in the Rearview Mirror: 52 Authors Look Back. She is a former journalist with more than a dozen writing awards to her credit.

Website: http://stacyjuba.com/blog/

 

Scenery and Imagination

  Sometimes I wish I could work at my kitchen sink. I like the view, and I can imagine all sorts of things when I look out the window.
   But would I sit and daydream? Probably. The coffee pot sits right there, so I wouldn't have to get up much.
   Warm, happy scenes or possibly adventures could take place in the autumn when the colors are bright.

   Soon, though, the view will turn bleak. What few leaves remain will be brown and dead, although the firs and some shrubs will be green. And the birds and squirrels will still come. They're always interesting.

   Yesterday dawn brought a lovely sky, and I took this from the deck.
   Do you use photographs to take you places? I do that. I take pictures of houses for my characters to live in, find photos of the characters, and refer to them.
   Are you influenced by the view and the season? Or do you live in your imagination?

Man's Best Friend

My best friend

Dogs are truly man’s best friend. Nothing else gives you the same unconditional love or accepts you as you are—tall/short, fat/thin, ugly/amazing—nothing matters if you care about the dog. That’s all he asks. I’m a dog lover, always have been, always will be.

From childhood I’ve had wonderful dogs. They’ve shared everything with me—my bed, my Brussels sprouts, and my heart. They licked away my tears, lay by my side when I was sick, and stole my lollipops. They were my best friends, and I grieved for each one when their time on earth was up.

I’m also fond of heroes. So when I found Kevin Hanrahan’s blog about Military Working Dogs (MWDs), it seemed perfect. He has wonderful true stories about these heroic dogs and the work they do in Afghanistan, Iran, and other areas. They’ve saved many lives and, just as our military men and women do, often give their lives. Many suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).  For many years, they were euthanized after their service was over. President Clinton made them eligible for adoption, at least those with the right temperament.

Kate, Muffet, Misty

On Kevin’s blog, I read about a soldier named Marc and his dog Anax. You can read their story at http://khanrahan.com/2012/01/25/marc-and-anax/ 

At the same time, I was having trouble bringing one of my characters to life. As soon as I read about Anax, Jax sprang into my heart. He became Connor Moran’s dog in my new book, Time of Death, giving life to both of them. Jax is a hero in his own right, one of my favorite characters.

I have pictures of most of my characters, and I wanted one for Jax.  His real name is Zakhar, but he’s my Jax. I fell for the alert, caring look on his face.

Here’s Jax’s history as told by Connor, from Time of Death.

“Were you in the Middle East?”

Jax

“Afghanistan. Jax and his handler were assigned to my unit. Jax alerted on the wall of a house we were searching. It had a thin stucco surface, clearly a new addition. We figured, judging by Jax’s behavior, it hid weapons or explosives. We backed off to wait for the bomb squad to do their thing, but a little kid ran out and fired directly into the wall. The whole thing exploded, and the unit came under heavy fire. Jax’s handler was hit. When the insurgents swarmed us, Jax stood over him, protecting him. They killed his handler and shot Jax. It cost him a leg and he had to retire. I only had a few months left, so I adopted him.”

How about you? Do you have dogs or memories of your best friend from childhood? 

Free Books-First Impressions

FREE for Kindle 11/16-18: Haunting Refrain is suspense with a little romance and a bit of woo-woo.

First impressions matter. I like picturing characters through another character’s eyes. What do they see? Here are some excerpts from the book.

This is John’s first impression of Kate.

John studied her quietly while she fussed at Ashburton. Something about her seemed familiar, tweaked at his memory. Surely he’d remember someone so . . . vivid. He couldn’t think of a better word. On top of her head, a precarious knot of hair appeared to be held in place by a single pencil. It wasn't very effective, judging by the amount of hair that had already escaped.

As the two women moved closer, he could see the broken point on the blue pencil. It matched the rest of her clothes—a man's blue work shirt that came almost to the knees of her faded jeans, and a pair of worn running shoes. He’d be willing to bet the counter where she worked came to just above her waist—evidenced by a horizontal streak of brownish stains across the front of the shirt.

In this one, Kate runs into a troublemaker with a strong dislike of psychics.

When Kate left the parking lot, she saw that a crowd had spilled into the street in front of the building where Martin Carver had an office. The road was blocked by two police cars. Kate slowed and rolled down her window, waving to a police officer. “What’s wrong? Can I get through here?”

“It’s the Prophet from the Mountains, Ma’am,” he said as if she should know the name. “He’s here because of the—”

“The sinner shall die.” A deep voice rolled over the officer’s words. A tall figure in a long, dirty robe strode out of the crowd, came toward Kate. “Thou shalt not hearken unto the dreamer of dreams: for the Lord your God will smite you with thunder and stones.” He stopped a few feet from her car and raised a long wooden walking stick in the air. His dark eyes stared into hers, his face contorted in anger.

Kate meets the roommate of the murdered woman.

The door opened so quickly that Kate jumped. A large, muscular woman with chopped-off brown hair glared down at her. A baseball bat hung from her hand.

“Whatever it is, I'm not interested, and the answer is no,” the Amazon barked, slamming the door.

For a second, Kate stood speechless. She almost left, then decided she wouldn't be put off so easily. She knocked again.

“Are you deaf, dumb, or both?” Josephine yelled, jerking the door back and waving the bat.

“My name is—” Kate stopped short as the door swung toward her again. She needed to get Josephine’s attention, fast. She flung her purse at the woman. “Listen, dammit. I need to talk to you.”

If this appeals to you, hop on over and get a copy while it’s free. http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00336F3QE