We have just about finished the promotion phase of the Scare The Dickens Out of Us ghost story writing contest for 2011. Officially the contest starts July 1. It ends October 1. We have sent emails to every writers’ group we could find (both in the U.S. and a couple out of it), to every writing contest site we could find, and to universities and colleges across the U.S. We have even contacted a few individual authors. Full rules are available at http://clarklibraryfriends.com.

If you are reading this, then pass it on through Twitter, Facebook, and word of mouth. While primarily a fundraiser for the Dr. Eugene Clark Library, Scare The Dickens Out of Us is also a pretty damned good short story contest. We reward good writing with $1000.00/$500.00/$250.00 prizes (plus a trophy and ribbon prizes). For the junior contest there is a $250.00 first place prize plus trophy. Runners up get really neat ribbon prizes. Best of all, every entrant has written a new ghost story and we get to read them all.

Unfortunately, we don’t publish any of them. But then that means you can turn right around after the contest and submit them to many short story markets. Check http://duotrope.com for a good idea how many markets there are.

We want ghost stories up to 5000 words in length. In English, thank you. We accept entries from anywhere in the world and from any level writer. So far both years an unpublished writer has won first place.

WHAT I’VE READ THIS WEEK—Roadwork by Stephen King, Water For Elephants by Sara Gruen, and Green Mansions by W.H. Hudson.

Photos by Gretchen Rix

The Well-Tempered Sentence, The Transitive Vampire (both by Karen Elizabeth Gordon), and The Elements of Style by William Strunk, Jr. and E.B. White are all easy to read, easy to understand grammar books. Ms. Gordon’s books are even fun to read. It looks like all three of these are still in print.

If you’re going to be a writer you need to know proper grammar. That doesn’t mean you always have to use proper grammar, just that you need to know what you’re doing. While I was reading a Stephen King book this Spring I discovered I had consistently made a certain error in my first published novel “The Cowboy’s Baby” (shame on me).It involves the use of the question mark. I had always put the question mark at the end of the sentence except when it was part of dialog. For instance: Why did the dog bark? was the first question that came to mind. (I would have put the question mark at the end. That is wrong.)

I’ve been having equal difficulty with punctuation and parentheses. I think the examples above are correct. I just re-read the grammar book instructions and I’m still not absolutely sure about parentheses. The easy solution: don’t use parentheses.

Take the time to brush up on your grammar as you’re writing, especially in the editing process. When in doubt, look it up. Then you won’t get all those letters from readers pointing out your punctuation errors.

WHAT I’VE READ THIS WEEK—A Storm of Swords by George R.R. Martin.

Photographs by Roxanne Rix.

Marian clamped down her automatic response and stayed out of it, to her husband’s surprise. The grandmother altered her tone the next time she spoke. “Why don’t you go visit with your friends before we all have to go to bed,” she suggested nicely, pushing little Leon in the direction of Peter and Leon who were sitting on a car hood. It was Ellison’s car and he had just noticed them. He frowned.  

“I need to get someone to drive me back to the house,” Leon’s grandmother continued. “I need to go to the bathroom.”  

Lots of luck with that, Marian thought. Then she wondered if the goats had eaten the only toilet paper Cassie had brought. She snickered.  

“What’s so funny?’  

It was the little boy.  

“Nothing son,” Mr. Bishop interceded. “Let’s see what Leon and Peter are up to. It’s about time to set up the tents. I could use your help.” He led little Leon away, leaving Marian and little Leon’s grandmother alone for some more bonding time.  

“Tell those two to get off my car,” Ellison called after them.  

Little Leon nodded, as if anything he said would get the teenagers to behave. He decided to go after them himself, but by the time he’d gotten near they had jumped off. He picked up a tent and dragged it back to the clearing. The older boys followed his example, leaving Mr. Bishop to struggle with dragging his own tent back by himself.  

Cassie came back with the news that the miniature bull had been cornered and forced into the pen, but that the horses and goats would be free to wander at will.  

“They aren’t dangerous,” she said. “We’ll hobble the horses. I don’t think the goats will go far.”  

Frank made a strangled sound, abruptly turning it into a cough when Cassie shot him a look. Alan and Jeremy kept their mouths shut and had a similar strangled look to that of their boss. To keep from laughing they walked away to retrieve the rest of the tents before it got completely dark.  

“When is someone going to take me to a bathroom?” little Leon’s grandmother asked. “Or do I have to walk all the way back,” she said when no one responded.  

“This one’s all yours,” Frank told Cassie. “I’ll start on the tents,” he said as an excuse.  

Cassie walked up to the older woman with a smile on her face, but she was quavering on the inside. “This is a camping trip, ma’am,” she said. “We’ll set up a few spots for people to relieve themselves in the pasture and behind the pen, but we’re not taking anyone back to my house just to use the bathroom.”  

Marcia pulled Ellison away. “Let’s set up your tent,” she said. “Then please help me set mine up. Not too close,” she added.  

“What’s too close?” he asked, sorry he had pitched a fit about them sharing a tent. He could certainly keep his hands off the woman, for this night anyhow, there were so many other people around, but it would have been nice to talk with her into the night, to see her fall asleep. To keep her safe.  

“I’ll know it when I see it,” she said. “Before too long the light will be gone. So get a move on.”  

“Yes, ma’am.”  

While Cassie argued back and forth with little Leon’s grandmother about the necessity of a clean bathroom for little old ladies and very young boys, Marcia and Ellison struggled with the tent. They got it set up, and it collapsed. They got it set up, the zipper got stuck and they could not get inside. They got the zipper undone, and the tent collapsed. Frank finally came over, and in a huff shook the nylon contraption open with a flip and said, “There! Don’t fiddle with it any more. Now, where’s the other one?”  

Ellison crawled into his tent to escape the derision. The ground was lumpy, but no word of complaint would cross his lips tonight. Marcia had followed Frank. Ten feet away Frank flipped the second tent out, set the opening to face Ellison’s tent, gave the young woman a stern stare and said, “Keep your hands off it and it will be all right.”  

“But I wanted it further away,” she said, ashamed to sound like a timid mouse in a fairy story, but that was how she felt at the moment.  

Frank glowered. “You’ll stay where I put you,” he said. “And if you have to leave the tent during the night, be damned careful and use the flashlight. If I were you I’d take someone with me, too. It’s a whole lot easier to recover from embarrassment than from a butt full of cactus thorns, or worse.” Glad I never mentioned the tarantulas, he thought.  

He could hear Cassie yelling again. Cassie’s not going to win this one, he decided. She ought to just give it up. We’re going to be up all night one way or the other anyhow, might as well drive the whole bunch there and back to use the bathroom as worry about them in the field. Can’t tell her anything, though. Let her figure it out for herself.  

To be continued…  

Copyright 2010 by Gretchen Rix. Photos by Roxanne Rix

Two more books that deserve more attention.

GHOST SEAS by Steven Utley

Unforgettable and disturbing stories here. Be warned. They’ll make you think. Ghost Seas is a short story collection of literary science fiction, fantasy, horror, alternate history (and even a Western) by Steven Utley. If you like reading you’re going to love this collection.

There are two First Contact science fiction stories the likes of which you’ve never read: Upstart, funny as all get out (depending on your interpretation, I suppose) and Race Relations, a very odd and affecting story,  just the way I like them. Then there’s the title story Ghost Seas where a newly married couple learns something unexpected about each other with tragic consequences. In Haiti, Utley gives us the  horribly topical tale where the future United States of America’s recent triumph in putting the first man on Mars is juxtaposed against the never-ending misery of Haiti in the middle of a cholera epidemic the whole world is ignoring. And this is just a sample of what’s waiting in Ghost Seas. Howard Waldrop’s written a most entertaining introduction. (If you don’t know Steven Utley now, you will afterwards.) Michael Bishop’s written the foreword. These stories were originally published in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, Isaac Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine, Pulphouse, Shayol, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, and others.

Check his site for information on where to buy Ghost Seas. (impatientape.livejournal.com )

and

RUN by Blake Crouch

Riveting, powerful, ruthless and frightening describe what is best about the novel RUN by Blake Crouch, a thriller (or science fiction novel, depending on your interpretation). What is worst about it is more than counterbalanced by the best, thank goodness, but there are lapses here. No matter.

RUN is a throwback to the 1950’s sci fi classics we used to find in the public library (John Christopher’s No Blade of Grass being one), and I still love them. I loved RUN. Due to a phenomenon in the sky (Don’t we know by now not to look!) half the population of  the United States wakes up the next morning fully prepared to torture and murder the ones who didn’t “see the lights”; this for no reason, and even if they are family. Right then most of the “normals” are hunted down and exterminated. The lucky ones who escape, run. This is the story.

Hard to set aside once it gets going, RUN will leave you wanting to read more Blake Crouch.

Available as an e-book for kindle readers and apps at http://amazon.com/Run-ebook/dp/B004PGNF0W.

All photos by Roxanne Rix.

Some books rate a second or even a third reading, they are so good. Here are the reviews of what I’m sure I’ll be reading again.

DODGING BULLETS by Joe McKinney.

DODGING BULLETS put me right into the character of heroin dealer Peto Hurst and wouldn’t let me out, even as he totally screwed up what was left of his marginal life by stealing from San Antonio’s Mexican Mafia. He ended up in a cornfield with a pistol to his head, and I will never again think of cornfields without thinking of gang murders (thank you Joe McKinney).

I felt like I was a heroin dealer running from worse to worst with my girlfriend at stake (first person viewpoint), my life at stake, everyone’s life at stake, making mistake after mistake and ending up with a slam-bam bloody shootout that either saved the day (or didn’t/no spoilers here). How many times did I say “stake”?

Loved it. And I’m a nice girl too.

Available on Kindle from Amazon.com  http://www.amazon.com/Dodging-Bullets-ebook/dp/B0046A9SVM and from Gutter Books   www.gutterbooks.com.

SHAKEN by J.A. Konrath

SHAKEN (not Stirred, that’s the name of the next Jack Daniels mystery from J.A. Konrath, forgive me but I just had to say it) has the whole bagful of what makes comtemporary thrilers of this type so enjoyable, even if you’ve pretty much read it all before.

There are impossibly inventive, extremely nasty serial killers to catch. There is a great gal inching her way up the police career ladder who is dead-set on catching them. There are familiar and entertaining sidekicks. There is fast-paced writing without a lot of extraneous description. And it’s even funny sometimes.

Presented to readers (in its original state) in three timelines, Shaken is almost impossible to put down. Not great (like Red Dragon), but a good, quick read. Worth your time if you “like” serial killer stories.

Although Shaken is the first of this series I have read (and this is near the end of this series), there was nothing confusing about coming in so late in the game. I want to read the rest of them now. What better comment could I make.

www.amazon.com/Shaken-ebook/dp/B003M69XAM.

WHAT I’VE READ THIS WEEK—A Clash of Kings by George R.R. Martin. And Daisy Chain by Mary E. DeMuth.

Photos by Roxanne Rix

“Calm down,” Ellison said, restraining his impulse to jump up and down like Marcia. He took her hand. 

Ellison laughed and did not release her but drew her into him for a tight hug. Before he knew what he was doing he kissed the top of her head and sighed. Marcia blinked furiously, and then she forced herself to relax. He hugged her again and looked over her at the commotion by the stock pen.  

The goats were running a crazy loop around the inside of their enclosure, seemingly intent on winning some sort of race. The small horses stood aside, moving as need be to get out of their way, not much interested, he thought.  

Cassie, Frank, Alan and Jeremy all stood in the middle of the ruckus looking at the little bull who was now stealing hay from the goats. He would grab a portion and amble to the tree with it where he let it go. Ellison could see a small cache under the tree even from where he stood.  

Why the little bull didn’t stop and eat what he already had, he had no idea. Baby could steal hay from the goats all night long as far as he was concerned; he liked being exactly where he was, holding Marcia in his arms and doing nothing more than breathing. Ellison thought he had never felt so at peace.  

Marcia turned in his arms and snuggled into him. She heard another sigh. Emboldened, she raised her lips to his and automatically Ellison kissed her back. This is sweet, he thought.  

This is magic, Marcia thought.  

“Damn it, guys, get a room,” Leon commented, walking past the pair with his mother, who gave him a swift jab in the ribs. “What? What did I say?” he asked.  

“Keep walking,” she said, looking sidewise at her brother and struggling to keep the grin off her face. “Just keep walking.”  

Marcia barely noticed them as she leaned upwards to deepen the kiss. Ellison kissed back. A few minutes later when he was seriously considering the picnic table in front of them for carnal purposes, he opened his eyes and was shocked to see they had an audience. Blood roaring in his ears had prevented him from hearing the frantic shouts aimed at them from the animal pen. Seeing Baby standing yards away looking at them and tossing those long horns in seeming frustration got all his blood back where it was supposed to be and in double quick time.  

He very carefully moved Marcia out of his arms and stood her behind him. Were you supposed to stare an animal down or was it one of those ‘don’t look them in the eye’ situations, he wondered.  

Time was moving slowly. They had the picnic table between them and the bull. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Cassie and her men walking up. He felt Marcia stand on her toes to look over his shoulder. She froze. The bull was suddenly right in front of them and time abruptly went into overdrive.  

Baby jumped his front legs up onto the bench, lowered his head into the box suppers that were spread over the table and picked up one in his mouth. With that box he then proceeded to sweep the rest of their food off onto the ground before he tottered and fell off the bench and back to earth, getting his legs stuck between bench and table in the doing.  

All Ellison could think about were the horns. Baby was a miniature bull to be sure, but the horns were sharp and the horns were close. He started backing himself and Marcia away from the table, knowing not to run. In what seemed no time they were out of the clearing and where the automobiles were parked, along with all of the other guests.  

Cassie, Frank, Alan and Jeremy were busy disentangling the little monster from the picnic table. Baby immediately shook them off and began transferring cardboard deli boxes to his spot under the tree where he had amassed a lot of the goats’ hay.  

“What’s he doing?” Marcia asked, peering into the setting sun at their hosts and the bull that had just completed his third trip.  

“I think he’s gathering food for himself,” Leona said, trying not to laugh. “Seems like he wasn’t content with the hay he took from the goats or the grain he knocked down near the horses, he had to have our food as well.”  

“This is a bull we’re talking about?” asked Ralph, inexplicably using his flashlight to try to see it better.  

“This is one of Cassandra’s babies,” Marian corrected. “They’re all a little weird. She told me this one was hand- raised on milk and Mrs. Baird’s Bread.”  

“But we were eating sandwiches,” Marcia interposed. “Mine was a turkey sandwich.”  

 “At least they weren’t hamburgers,” Leona said.  

“Or barbeque,” Leon said.  

“Or roast beef,” Ralph added. “You didn’t have a roast beef sandwich in one of those boxes did you, Ellison?” he asked. 

“Ooooough,” little Leon said, making a gagging motion with his hands.  

 “What did I tell you about making that noise again?” snapped his grandmother.  

COPYRIGHT 2010 BY GRETCHEN RIX. Photos by Roxanne Rix  

.

My romance novel The Cowboy’s Baby is finally doing pretty good as a Kindle e-book at Amazon.com.   I’m one hundred percent sure it’s the result of lowering the price to 99 cents.  But, hey.   It’s never been my goal to make oodles of money out of my writing.  The goal has been to write something good that people will enjoy reading, and then to have them buy and read it.   (I can only assume they are reading it.  I eventually read all the novels I buy.)

At the local level, the eclectic gift shop and flower company Buffalo Clover (104 E. Market St., Lockhart, Tx) has been selling paperback copies of  The Cowboy’s Baby since January.  My sister (the publisher of this paperback) and I have been real pleased at the sales.  Plus we love to look around in their shop. They’ve usually got a great display of yard art for sale, much of which has ended up at our house.  Walking into their shop is like going on a treasure hunt, there is always something marvelous to find there.  www.buffalocloverflowerco.com. 

So, while the old book was having a modicum of success, the new book, Arroyo, got shoved aside last week as I recovered from a nasty cold.  I could have worked on it.  But I didn’t.  That is a really bad habit for any writer to get into (not writing). What I did was to continue to promote the Scare The Dickens Out of Us ghost story writing contest.  Starting in July the submissions will start rolling in (although an awful lot of writers seem to wait UNTIL THE VERY LAST MINUTE TO SEND THEIR STORIES IN.)  It’s okay. We can handle it.  If you’ve never heard of this writing contest, see full rules, etc. at www.clarklibraryfriends.com.  It’s a fun thing and does a lot of good for our local library.

My sister Roxanne and I have now set up an LLC company called Rix Cafe Texican to serve as paperback publisher and distributor for my book The Cowboy’s Baby (and probably also for Arroyo when I get it done).  When we get our website up ( no, it’s not ready yet), we will be promoting the work of Central Texas writers and musicians and other artsy people, and publishing my work, and then hopefully branching out to publish some other Central Texas writers in the future. We will also be selling a few used books, both at local fairs and off the website.  So far Blurb (which prints The Cowboy’s Baby and has an online book store for distribution) hasn’t sold a single copy; we may take the paperback distribution back from them and try selling from the Rix Cafe Texican website in a little while.   In the meantime you can find it at www.blurb.com  in their bookstore section.

WHAT I’VE READ THIS WEEK—A Game Of Thrones by George R.R. Martin.  I think this is the third time I’ve read it.  It’s still great, although now I’m stuck seeing Sean Bean as Eddard instead of however I used to picture the character.

PHOTOS BY ROXANNE RIX.

Riveting, powerful, ruthless and frightening describe what is best about the novel RUN by Blake Crouch, a thriller (or science fiction novel, depending on your interpretation). What is worst about it is more than counterbalanced by the best, thank goodness, but there are lapses here. No matter.

RUN is a throwback to the 1950’s sci fi classics we used to find in the public library (John Christopher’s No Blade of Grass being one), and I still love them. I loved RUN.

Due to a phenomenon in the sky (Don’t we know by now not to look!), half the population of the United States wakes up the next morning fully prepared to torture and murder the ones who didn’t “see the lights”; this for no reason, and even if they are  family. Right then most of the “normals” are hunted down and exterminated. The lucky ones who escape, run. This is the story.

Hard to set aside once it gets going, RUN will leave you wanting to read more Blake Crouch.

Available as an e-book for Kindle readers and apps.

 http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B004PGNF0W

WHAT I READ THIS WEEK—RUN by Blake Crouch and The People of the Mist by H. Rider Haggard.

I’m in the beginning of the second draft of my new novel Arroyo. While keeping the characters, much of the setting and some of the plot intact, I am completely changing the way the novel will be presented. Hopefully that will fix what I hated when I read through this section about a month ago. If not, then I guess I’ll scrap the first section and begin with section two.

SHOW, DON’T TELL is pretty much the cardinal rule of writing fiction. Sometimes you find a novel you enjoy the hell out of, and most of it is the author telling you what happened. But most of the time you want to see the action unfold in front of your eyes. I tried to explain the difference to someone at a writer’s workshop a couple of years ago. It can be hard to understand.

This is an example of Show:  He very carefully moved Marcia out of his arms and stood her behind him. They had the picnic table between them and the bull. He felt Marcia stand on her toes to look over his shoulder. She froze.

This is an example of Tell:  Tanned skin the color of dirt, a weather-worn face crisscrossed by tiny lines at the mouth and eyes, untidy, nondescript hair crammed underneath a floppy, unbecoming and stained hat, and a wiry, long body—that was Cassie Lennon at age thirty-five.

Both examples from The Cowboy’s Baby by Gretchen Lee Rix copyrighted 2010.

There is a place for both showing the story and telling the story in each novel; you just want to be careful about leaning too much towards just “telling”.

With Arroyo there is no real deadline for me to meet. Except!!!!!!!! I have been named one of the featured authors for the 2011 Evening With the Authors event in Lockhart, Texas. This is for The Cowboy’s Baby. I’m deluding myself into thinking there’s a possibility I could have Arroyo polished, finished and published by that time. Then I’d have two books to sell. Not going to happen. It’s more important to have Arroyo perfect than to have it out at a certain time. By the way, I’ve been invited to participate because I’m a local writer and I’m active in the community—a lot of people know who I am; but they like my book, too.

WHAT I’VE READ THIS WEEK–That Certain Spark by Cathy Hake.

Photos by Roxanne Rix

THERE’S A 99 CENT SALE on “The Cowboy’s Baby” Kindle e-book. For those of you who enjoy humorous little romances–