1 Writer’s Beat

2 Writer’s Beat
 3 Writer’s Beat

Passages The Beat

Writer’s Club salutes
literary giant
Goes On...
What’s On and About on the Writer’s Beat Forum
Kurt Vonnegut, Jr
Nov., 1922 - April 2007 A lively discussion on the importance (or lack of) coffee took
place in The Inkster Incorporated foru m:

"Co ffee is a constitutio nal right. If not, it sho uld be."

- Gary_Wagner

"I believe co ffee is the joy o f peo ples m orning s."

- Esthe rM arie

But not everyone was as enthusiastic about a morning

cup ‘o mud:

"Coffee is the devil's brew. It makes users (add icts?)

indulge in motormouth babel while their brains are hotwired on
caffeine. First step on the road to coke, crank and the cheap
thrills of pse udo-e phedrine cold m edication."
- Starrwriter

“Like so many Americans,

she was trying to construct a
life that made sense from
things she found in gift
shops.”

- Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

Useful Writer’s Tip from the WB Forum:
Slaughterhouse Five
" I came across a tip that I found helpful and thought I would pass it on.
Some words you just don't need. They clutter up otherwise clean writing.
Works by Kurt Vonnegut, There's a list of the most frequent offenders I keep near my keyboard. Here
Jr.: they are: just, really, definitely, so, even, such, very, at all certainly,
Player Piano exactly, anywa y, some.
The Sirens of Titan And some unnec essary p hrases: started to, began to, proceeded to.
Mother Night You rarely need these words. For crisper writing, lose the unnecessary
Cat's Cradle: words.You'll have more room for your story to grow."
Go d Bless Yo u,
Mr. Rosewater - PiperDawn
Slaughterhouse-Five You Really Don't Need the Word "Really"
Welco me to the Mo nkey H ouse Writer's Beat Forum, Writer's Tips and Advice
 4 Writer’s Beat
Writer’s Beat
Monthly Contest
Winners
Non-Fiction Category
BATHING AU NATUREL
Starrwriter
For several years I bathed in the
bosom of nature.
M y first natural bath was a
waterfall pool in the tropical
rainforest on the island of M aui. I
lost hot water in my house when the
family that delivered propane gas
went out of business in the rem ote
area. Rather than take cold showers,
I decided to carry a bar of bath soap
and a towel to the pool below my
property.
The pool water was
refreshingly cold. I would strip
naked, jump in and gasp as my body
adjusted to the temperature. Then I
would lather up and dive under the
waterfall, breathing a fine mist rising
from the splashing water.
The pool was far enough
away from the road that no o ne co uld
see me ex cept wild anim als -- birds
and the occasional mongoose or wild
boar. My neighbors began calling me
"nature boy" and I felt like a Hindu
Bra hmin perform ing his daily
ablution to the gods.
Later I built my own house
on the Big Island where I had
purchased three acres of rainforest
property. My only water source was
rain catchment from my roof into a
redw ood storage tank.
I ran a garden hose from the
tank to a gully. Using gravity feed, I
took cold showers bene ath a tall ohia
tree that flowered twice a yea r. I
rinsed my hair with the sap of
shampoo ginger, a better hair
conditioner than any store sells.
Although my outdoor
shower "stall" was a long walk from
the road through dense rainforest, I
was interrupted once by a fetching
young lady who came for a surprise
visit. She was em barrassed , but I
only smiled. I finished my shower
while she talked with her back turned
to me. After I dressed, we drove to
the other side of the island and
camped on the beac h that night.
A few years later I came
down wi t h a b a d c a s e of
"civiliza tion." I built a tiny bath
house, installed an on-demand
propane water heater and a 12-volt
water pump, and I began taking hot
showers like everyone else. It
represented a fall from the state of
grace.
Now I live in the big city of
Ho nolulu where taking showers
outdoors is prosecuted as the
criminal offense of indecent
exposure. City dw ellers do n't realize
what they are missing.
Fiction Category:
MAN ON THE MOON
Starrwriter
M y father was a hypocrite. W hen I
turned eight, he made a big show of
promising never to use physical
punishment with me again. Two
years later he kicked me do wn a
flight of stairs for breaking a
window. From that point on I
despised him.
The last time I saw him was
the day N eil Armstrong walked on
the moon. I was just out o f Air Force
boot camp whe n he invited me to
visit him and his new wife, Ruth.
I soon realized the visit was
a mistake. The night of the moon
walk my father got very drunk after
Ruth went to bed and he started
harassing me about my recent
divorce.
"W eren't you man enough
to keep your marriage going?" he
asked insultingly.
W hen he bragged about
seducing a neighbor, something
snapped inside me. The next
morning I told Ruth about his
philandering and p acked my things
to leave. I was backing my car out of
the driveway when my father rushed
out of the house to stop me.
"You stabbed me in the
back," he said incredulously.
"You asked for it," I said
and drove away.
He died five years later.
Poetry Category
THE PERILS OF
ONLINE SHOPPING
Josie Henley
There was a young woman from
Vickers,
W ho ord ered a new pair of K ickers.
She paid for a parcel
But regretted the hassle
W hen the box revealed three frilly
knickers.
Be sure to
enter the
Writer’s Beat
Monthly Contests!
 5 Writer’s Beat
Misused,
Misplaced
and
Misspelled:
Spelling,
Grammar
and
Mechanics
Azael S., Hak eem S., Mridula C.,
Taya L., Tina C.
It’s not easy being a critic. Forget
the fact that we have a weekly quota
of critiques to do ; we often have to
trawl through travesties of the
English language. Let’s be frank. If
you are taking the effort of writing
something, the very least you can do
is respect the language you are
writing in. Granted, not everyone is
a grammar expert, but a line must be
drawn when the basic upshot of a
story is:
“n den da lil gurl liek totilly fel 4
dat guy hu woz liek sooooooo hot *faints*”
Maybe we're exaggerating and
that’s on the farther spectrum of
things, but that does not mean we
should igno re the ‘better’ ones.
A discussion of our pet peeves
made us realise that an article
highlighting com mon faults we find
while critiquing would help. It
mushroomed from there and we are
now proud to present M isused,
Misplaced and Misspelled, a series
of articles that will tackle several
issues from grammatica l errors to
chara cter develo pme nt.
Without further ado, we bring you
Misused, Misplaced and Misspelled:
Spelling, Gramm ar and Mechanics.
Writing M echanics
Commas
Commas are the simplest of
tools; we barely notice their
existence. But if you pay more
attention, you would notice that
without them writing is nothing.
While reviewing a piece of
writing posted on the boards, we
occasionally have to comment on the
same things: misplaced comm as,
comma splices, serial commas, and
unnecessary co mmas. It is of crucial
importance that you proof-read your
work before putting it up for
review—co rrecting your mistakes
will drain the critic, so let’s just
agree that it's your job.
How to spot a comm a splice:
Skim your writing, stopping at
every comma. If there are two
com plete sentences at bo th sides,
then you have a comma splice.
Before anyone sees you, change the
comma to a period and act as if
nothing happened.
It is not necessary that you change
it to a period; there are other ways of
fixing this horrendous mistake. Try
to replace the comma with a sem i-
colon, use other punctuation, or
simply re-word, playing with the
clauses at hand.
Serial comma s?
A serial com ma, a lso called an
Oxford comm a, is the one placed
before the last item in a list. We
know that you were taught otherw ise
in school, but this is the real world.
The first, the second and the third,
and the fifth book.
Journalists do not abide by serial
comm as, but you most certainly have
to because most publication houses
prefer its use.
Unnec essary comma s:
Admit it alread y; we know that
you like to put a comma between
every word.
O Do not write a comma after
Like and before Such as.
O Commas are not placed
before parentheses, but you
are free to write one after
them.
O B etween most double
adjectives, a com ma is not
necessary to use.
What you need to realize is that
writing is different from speech. You
may be tem pted to use comm as to
indicate pauses, mimicking the way
we talk thinking that it’s going to
make your writing believable— well
it is quite the contra ry. Spe ech is
something, and prose is another.
Abide by the comma rules, and you
shall be safe.
Dialogue Punctuation
Nothing vexes us more than a
piece of dialogue not p roperly
punctuated. When writing dialogue,
pay close attention to every comma,
period, question mark, exclamation
point, and especially quotation marks.
From The Chicago Manual of
Style, 15th Edition:
“Periods and commas precede
closing quotation marks, whether
double or single … T ypographical
usage dictates that the comma be
placed inside the [quotation] m arks,
though logically it often seems not to
belong there … The same goes for
the perio d.” Question marks and
exclamation points are placed inside
the quotation marks only when they
are a part of the quoted matter.
You know, said is not the only
speech tag in the world. Try to make
your dialogue more lively and
believable by using other tags. That
 6 Writer’s Beat
being said, you can use said after a
question mark. (“Am I an idiot?” you
said.)
Keep in mind that dialogue is
primarily a tool to help develop and
mov e the plot. Do not ov erwrite it!
Speech T ags:
There are four types of tags:
speech tags, action tags, thought
tags, and description tags. You may
write, “I love you,” Jack grinned,
but that is purely incorrect. If you
think about it, you will conclude that
you ca nnot grin and talk at the same
time! Therefore, the correct version
of both the speech tag and the action
tag would be “I love you.” Jack
grinned or “I love you ,” Jack said.
To show direct thoughts (that
little voice, which speaks inside your
head), use italics or simply
underlining. Make sure you use a
thought tag: "I suppo se I got th is
right,” Jack thought."
You can also let your reader
know more about the character’s
perso nality by using body language
and facial expressions. Y ou use
description tags for this.
“I love yo u.” Jac k turned his
head, feeling ashamed.
Ellipses and Dashes
Ellipsis points (which are three
periods not seven) are not used when
a speech is interrupted, but used
when the speaker is at loss of words.
It can also be used to portray
hesitation or stuttering. You use four
periods when the ellipsis is at the end
of a sentence—no , the fourth period
is not included within the ellipsis; itis
only the full stop at the end of any
sentence, you fool. (We say either an
ellipses, or ellipsis points.)
An em dash is equa l to the wid th
of two hyphens. We use it when we
want to set something apart from the
main sentence—placing emphasis on
what is after it—or when the flow of
a sentence is strongly broken. An en
dash is half the wid th of an em dash.
This one is used to indicate a ce rtain
range between d ates and numb ers.
Please bear in mind that no space
precedes or follows an em or en
dash. (You do know why they were
named like this, don't you?)
Another thing; the overuse of
dashes is a sign of inexperience or
amateurish writing. Do not say we
did not warn you.
Numbers in Writing:
Serial numerals that are really
long are not spelled out; it would tire
the reader. Don't say one thousand
two hundred and fifty six pages for
an example, simply write 1,256
pages. Rem emb er, you must put
commas after every third digit from
the right or it will be hard to read.
Dates are not spelled out and the
nume rals are written. How ever, don't
begin your sentence with numerals;
always use words.
Capitalizing T itles:
If you want to post a story o n
the board s, please make us look good
and capitalize the title properly.
You capitalize everything in a
title except for articles (a, an, the),
prepo sitions, and conjunctions. Be
careful though, the first and last
words are always capitalized no
matter what. Subtitles are not
different; they follow the same rules.
Punctuation in Poetry
As was already said, in poetry
there are no rules for grammar, but to
facilitate reading, think of how the
poem should be read. Even if your
idea is the best one ever, if the
grammar is bad, no one will know
The Beat
Goes On...
What’s On and About on the
Writer’s Beat Forum
Free-Writing: a spotlight on
short works
Capturing the
Moment
by T-Mania
Som ething happened. It
didn't just happen like that out
of the b lue. There w ere ev ents,
people, decisions, action, and
mistakes leading up to the
moment, culminating in that
ap ex tha t pu rpo rts to expla in
the ch ain of ca use an d effec t.
Emotions were involved,
decisions made, conversations
exchanged, and plans
executed. The atmosphere,
the psychology, the tension,
the curious stares, everything,
rushing up to that m om ent,
waiting to b rea k loose, is
necessary to capture the
mom ent.
Something happened.
That's just the beginning, the
first sentence that invites us
back in time, back through the
chain of cau se and effect, to
the beginning, to the
expla nation , to the ca use if
there's such a thing. Capturing
the moment really is capturing
the series of causes leading up
to the e ffect; that is, one m ust
capture mom ents to cap ture
the mom ent.”
- Posted on the Free Writing
forum, Rough Draft section
on Writer’s Beat
 7 Writer’s Beat
how to read your poem to get the
best out of it— it is as valuable as a
piece of paper with scribb les.
Com mas are used to either make
a stop or to tell the read er, “T his is
where the thou ght for this line ends.”
Avo id using co mmas too much; in
poe try, a comma could be substituted
by ending the line. Periods are not
used much in poetry, unless it is the
end of a stanza. Periods tell the
reader to make a stop. If used in the
midd le of a stanz a, it could mess up
the poem’s flow. There are no
periods in the middle of a line.
Period.
Spelling and Grammar Usage
Whether or no t you weather this
storm of advice is up to you.
Misspelled words are often a writer’s
bane. While computer spellcheckers
root out several errors, they do not
always pick up on
ever y t h in g — p articularly
homophones. For the less-informed,
homophones are words that sound
similar and are hence often misused.
Similar, but just not the same!
Effect is a noun and is therefore the
'subject or object' of the sentence.
“The effect was startling .” Affect, on
the other hand, is a verb and
therefore is the 'action' in a sentence
and should be used like this: “The
virus is destructive and can affect the
hea rt mu scle.”
Past is an adjective, which is
used to 'describe or mod ify' a noun
(see above.) “Things have been
terrible in the past yea r.” However,
Passed is a verb: “The bullet passed
right b y him .”
Except is conjunction; it means 'if
not' or 'unless'. “All th e King's horses
are white, except for Dobbin, who
was techn ically a pon y.” Accept is a
verb and should be used like this:
“Jenny cou ld not accept Je rem y's
proposal of m arriage.”
Alter (verb) means to change
something; Altar (noun) a table or
surface where religious ceremonies
are cond ucted . “Jack altered the
altar's height by a couple of inches,
so next time; it would be easier for
him to reach the sacrificial virgin.”
Allusive and elusive are not the
same. I say, “My girlfriend is so
allusive; she's always asking whether
I like kids or not.” Allusive is used
when som eon e's speec h/actions
c o n t a in hidden meanings o r
intentions— not necessa rily ill
behaved.
Elusive is quite different; it means
subtly mischievous: “When I prepare
different exam p apers so my students
cannot cheat, I am b eing elusive.”
People sometimes write illusive
instead of elusive, and that is not just
a spelling mistake. Illusive is a word
that describes a devious p erson , a
trickster. (T he neg ative side.)
Therefor is not a misspelled
therefore; the form er is the ancient
meaning for "for". We trust that you
know the latter; therefore, we are not
going to say anything.
Timber and timbre have nothing to
do with British/American usage.
Timber is that thing your hut is made
of, while timbre is the distinctive
trait of a complex sound. To avoid
confusion, the latter is occasio nally
referred to as a "vocal timbre". Yeah
I know; we have musical experts on
the beat!
The old wether (a castra ted male
sheep) was wondering whether or not
the weather was going to get worse.
W hat do you think?
And our personal favorite: Desert
(noun), which generally means “a
sandy piece of land with very little
water.” Dessert (noun) - meaning
som ething with whipped cream,
glace cherries and preferably
chocolate sauce!
And remem ber, it’s i before e
except after c. So, it’s chief, not
cheif and receive, not recieve.
Other commonly misused and
misspelled words are: stair and stare,
whole and hole, stationary and
stationery, practice and practise,
maybe and may be, nigh t and knight,
knew and new, and great and grate,
not to mention several others. The
only way to get past this problem is
by reading a lot. Ab ove all, if you are
not sure how to spell a word, go
ope n a dictionary.
Speaking of which, here’s a
handy tip for getting its and it's right.
W henever you are contemplating
writing it's, decid e if you co uld
replace it with it is, because that is
what it’s with an apostrophe me ans.
If you can't, then it must be its.
So for instance, in this sentence:
It’s a joy to watch a hawk dive after
it’s prey.
Can you say, "A hawk dived after
it is prey?" No way! Therefore, no
apostrophe. You can also use this
trick for wasn’t (was not), haven’t
(have not) and shouldn’t (should not).
Rememb er, the more grammatica lly
correct your story is, the more likely
you are to get feedback. And for the
love of all that is sacred, please do
not expe ct anyone to waste their time
correcting your spelling errors.
Structuring Sentences
Several novice writers do not
know how to structure a sentence.
It’s easy if you think about it
logically. Every sentence has
one subject and one predicate. A
subject is the part of a sentence about
which something is said. A pre dicate
is the part of a sentenc e that says
something abo ut the subject.
Confused ? H ere is an exam ple:
(Continued)
 8 Writer’s Beat

Leopards are excellent hunters. Pwom an witho ut her m an is

Here, ‘leopa rds’ is the subject and

nothing The Beat
M ake correction s:
the predicate is ‘are excellent hunters.’
P It is recommended that
Goes On...
As long as your sentence has a
subject and a pred icate, you shou ld writers persue a career as
colum nists. What’s On and About on the
be fine. However, don’t forget
Writer’s Beat Forum
fragments. Those are sentences P His attempts to escape his
where there is either no subject, or f a t h e r s t y rr a n y w e re A random pick from the
no predicate. Sente nces where desp arate. Poetry Foru m:
thoughts are left incomplete are also
classified as fragm ents. P The desert was m agnificent!
Exam ples: It was complements from
The young boy. (No predicate) the cheif.
Summer Day
Ran to his mo ther. (No subject) P The occurence of any - Poemgirl
If he had not foun d her… . developement can yeild
(Inco mplete thought) good results.
Fragments are very valuable for
P At my house, eating brocolli
creating an impact. Needless to say,
if you insist on over-using them, you
is an indispensible fate. Dripping sweat,
are killing a useful tool. You alone sun burnt nose,
If it were up to us, we wo uld make
are to be blamed if you still go ahead
grammar and spelling so sacred that blistered hands,
with the fragment-attack
by messing them up, you would be tired feet.
breaking a cosmic rule. Shady grove,
Grammar Exercises
Unfortunately, we don’t have any
axe to follow you around with.
shallow pool
Don’t groan! W e’re not forcing
Instead, we are going to settle by cool and sweet,
you to do this, though if you are one
of the reasons for this article, you
giving you all of the adv ice above. splashing in
Don 't get us wrong though; we are
should already be pulling out a pen
not trying to make writing harder,
What relief!
and paper, or opening that document
but sometimes it enrages us to see Work hard, yet
on your computer. Here are some
exercises for you to check if you
the language mish andled. After all, at times, stop.
this is a writing forum!
have learnt anything from this article. See this day,
Answers are at the end of the issue. cream-blue sky,
For Answers, see page 11
quiet fields,
Punctuate the following: gurgling stream
"The great art open lilies,
Phe bought fruits and of life is the singing birds.
vegetables bo oks and pens Summ er days
Pwhen the drunk husband sensation, to feel are not here
stumbled into their house his
wife was furious that we exist, forever
Pbefore he did anything Daniel so pause, stop
Fischer asked the girl wo uld even in pain." and listen
you go out with me
Peveryone can write not as
perfectly as Paris Hilton and
get published -Lord Byron
 9 Writer’s Beat
Joyce: A Portrait
of the Artist as a
Young Man
by Taya L.
Every now and then, a nagging
voice in the back of my head tells me
I should be reading more edifying
books than the ones that currently
grace my bookshelf. T he voice tells
me my next book should be one of
those “classics” that fill book club
reading lists. I’ve never liked that
particular little voice. D on’t get me
wrong, those classics aren’t all bad.
But I never liked being told wh at I
should read.
On March 16th, that voice got
itself a microphone and so I decided
to tackle James Joyce’s A Portrait of
the Artist as a Young Man. I’ll admit
that I’m che ating a b it; this isn’t the
first time I’ve cracked the binding on
a copy of Portrait. But the last time
around I was on the verge of
graduating from high school and I
was finding m y English class a b it
tedious.
P o r tr a it is
semi-autobiograp h i c a l w o rk
published in 1916; the footnotes
kindly included in my Penguin
Classics edition make it clear that
many of the characters are near
carbon-copies of Joyce’s college
chums and J oyce himself appears in
the form of an alter-ego named
Stephen Dedalus. The choice of this
name is an important one. Another
Stephen, this one from biblical times,
was martyred and becam e the first
Christian saint. Daeda lus is a master
craftsman of Greek mythology. He
built King M inos’ great maze to
house the Minotaur but when Minos
refused to let him depart from Crete,
he created waxen wings for himself
and his son, Ic arus, to fly away on.
As is well known, Icarus flew too
close to the sun, the wax melted and
he fell into the sea. Because Stephen
is also son of a Dedalus, Stephen can
therefore be both D aedalus, the
artist, and Icarus, the fallen man, the
one who c omm itted hubris. The fire
and water imagery associated w ith
this myth pervades the five sections
of Portrait.
The plotline follows Stephen’s
life in Dublin from early childhood
through his years at a Jesuit boarding
school and then on to university.
To ld in an elusive manner that leaves
much unsaid, a reader without a
considerable amount of knowledge
of early 20th century Irish history
may find it difficult to understand
a what Stephen is ex perie ncing.
Charles Stewart Parnell, the political
leader, has a great impact on young
Stephen, but he remains a shadowy
figure, referred to at dinner table
conversations, an image in Stephen’s
mind that is never fully articulated.
Equally vague is the Dedalus
family’s, particularly M r. Ded alus’,
position. Frequent removals to
progressive ly poorer sections of
Dublin let on that Step hen’s father is
in financial trouble, but young
Stephen was left in the dark and so
too, therefore, is the reader.
Desp ite the murky nature of the
narrative, one thing becomes
extremely clear: Stephe n doesn’t
know what to do with his life. He
struggles with religion, philosoph y,
beauty, politics, sin and Irish
nationalism. He rebels against the
conventions he is bro ught up with
a n d h e s e e k s i n t e l l e c tu a l
individuality. There is no midd le
ground in his psychology and
actions; when he com mits, it is fully
done. For instance, in the third
section of the novel, he is convinced
that he is so very damned that he
should die for his sins. Then, pages
later in the fourth section, he
considers himself to be so very pious
that he sho uld die for his excessive
purity. And you thought John Kerry
w a s w i s h y- w as h y . I n sh o r t ,
everything in Stephen’s life has
fallen short of his expectations and
he must find something else to give
himself to.
This something else comes in the
form of art. The church is
abandoned; St. Stephen is trampled
by Daedalus; Stephen leaves for
Paris to pursue his calling as an
artist. Though a reader may welcome
this conclusion, the final sentence of
the novel is an o minous one .
“Old father, old artificer, stand
me no w and ever in good stead.”
Here Stephen is Icarus, asking
Daedalus for help. But we must
remember that the last time Daedalus
aided Icarus, it ended with the young
man drowning.
A P ortrait of the A rtist as a
Young Man is not an easy read. And
re-reading it was no easier. The
10 Writer’s Beat

narrative style makes it difficult to

connect with the characters and I
found that I was reading it with the
intent of turning pages rather than
savoring the experience. However,
many of the scenes are really quite
brilliantly done and there is no
question that Joyce was a master of
language.
In the end, I suppose I should
say I’m glad I took on Portrait one
more time, but I have to admit that
statement would n’t be co mple tely
true. Sure, I got a lo t more out of it
the second time around and I
understand why it’s considered one
of the greatest novels of the 20th
century, but in terms of my personal
tastes it will never be cherished like
some boo ks I own.
WB
Joy ce’s W orld
Interested in learning about the “...you can't write
man behind this story, James
Augustine Aloysius Joyce? Check
interesting stories until
out: you have lived an
www.themo dernword .com /joyce. interesting life. That
Readers Speak Out means taking risks in life
as well as in writing.”
Reviewers o n Barnes and N oble’s
website gave Portrait five out of five - Starrwriter
stars, comparing Joyce to literary
giants like Homer and Shakespeare.
Amazon custom ers were slightly How I Becam e a Fiction Writer
more critical, giving Portrait four WB forum, Inkster Incorporated
out of five stars.
__________________

Rules For Critiquing

Excerpt from Guidelines for Critiquing
Posted by Lacy, Writer's Beat forum, Writing Tips & Advice

T Always be kind and considerate when making a critique statement. Respect and support your fellow
writers. We are all in the same boat and no one person has the paddle.

T Wh en offering critiques, please follow the rules: no profanity or personal attacks.

T Remem ber that unless you are a trained Editor critiquing a polishe d w ork for publication, your critique is
only a suggestion to help som eon e work on a d raft. Th ey do NOT hav e to a ccept your word a s law .

T Whenever possible, try and present your comments as an experienced opinion rather than gospel or law.
Man y writers join critiquing groups an d forget that everyone is just learning. No on e has all the answ ers.
Steven King was told that his writing was so horrendous that he should just stop writing all together and get
a rea l job.

T Comm ents such as "This is how it has to be," or "you have to do it like this" are not constructive. Instead
say, " this is what I would do", or "could it maybe be said this way?"

T Be hon est in your reviews but at the sam e time be thou ghtfu l. You are not h ere to poin t out e very little
nit pic or mistake the writer has made. You are here to nurture and support the writer while helping one
another to grow and learn.
___________________________

Source, as cited in the original thread:The Allyn & Bacon Handbook. 1999

For the rest of this informative post, see the thread Writing Tips & Advice on the Writer’s Beat forum.
11 Writer’s Beat
12 Writer’s Beat

standing on an empty street. Then, Let Your Characters

Characters from around the corner someone
appears. Yes, you will notice what Show Their Story
That they look like, but you will also start
t o m a k e ju d g e m e n t s a b o u t There are so many articles and
them...Hark, I hear cries of, ‘No I threads on W riter’s Beat on this
Breathe don ’t...I’m n ot prejudicial!
Unfortunately the truth is, yes you
subject that I am loath to m ention it
again, but...show, don’t tell! Take a
Part 1 are. W e all are. The urge to prejudge look at these two exa mples,
By Tina C is built into our most basic of Alan was so envious of John he
instincts, which is, ‘Do I need to be wanted to spit. He had Joanie and a
fanta stic flame-red Ferrari. John
No matter what genre you prefer, all afraid of this person?’ It is the ‘fight
seemed to have
or flight’ instinct.
written characters come from the
We do this everything Alan
s a m e p re m is e — P e o p le . A n y
subconsciously all did n ot.
character you create, if it doesn’t
the time. T his is In this
have that ‘people factor’ your
not the only example, the
characters will seem flat and unreal
question we ask. In writer is telling
to your reader. It is easy to believe
order to make a the story, but that
that because each and every human
judgement on makes Alan a
being has a different appearance
threat, we also ask, very dull bo y.
from the next, and has differing
‘What does the ir G e t y o u r
perso nality traits that you can be
appearance mean?’ characters up and
lacking in the consideration o f your
moving! This is
character. You wo uld be wrong. It
For example, what the reader
sticks out like a sore thumb. Here are
if I had just robbed paid their hard
some things to consider when you
a shop, had a TV earned cash for.
are creating your hero, arch enemy or
in my arms and the Characters who
sidekick.
person who came ‘do’ things are
around the corner alive.
Describing Physical was in a police Alan stuffed
Appearance uniform, to me it his clenc hed fists
could mean into his jacket
trouble. On the pockets, smiled
Tall, dark and ugly is fine, but it
other hand, if a serial rapist had just and nod ded his
is all too easy to give a list of hair
chased me down deserted alleyways, farewells to John and Joanie. He
and eye co lour, the style, type and
the sight of a police uniform would watched the flame-red Fe rrari turn
colour of clothes. However, a long
be m ore o f a com fort. out of the d riveway. O ut of sight, the
list is boring and your readers will
As a writer you must consider smile fell from his face. He sniffed
pick up on it. Keeping it simple
what your characters appearance hard, turned and spat green mucus
allows the reader to fill the gap s with
means to your reader and to your onto their snot coloured lawn.
their imagination .
other characters. Hop efully, you can see that
In the ‘Drago ns of Pern’ series,
Play with it. Just think of all the Alan’s actions mean exactly the same
author Anne McCaffrey describes
fun you can have turning this on its as the previous example, but this
one of her m ain characters F’lar, as
head. It is much more interesting if time he is much mo re interesting. He
a dragon rider whose dark fringe
after being chased by the serial is showing the reader the story.
flopped into his eyes and who
smelled faintly of leather. Oh b e still rapist, I run over to the policeman Characters with
my beating heart! Som etimes simple and discover that he’s sixteen, drunk
and going home after a fancy dress
Developmental
is sexy.
If you can’t keep it simple then party or the policeman is the serial Problems!
imagine for a moment you are rapist’s partner in sexual deviance. (Continued)
13 Writer’s Beat

In 99% of all fiction the chapters is perfectly acceptable. Ten questions to ask
protagonist’s perso nality grows. The
reader expects it. Your protagonist Too Much, your characters
needs to change and develop if they 1. W hat is distinctive about their
want to have a reader who believes Too Little, appearance?
in them and has sympathy for them. Too Late 2. What does that say about them?
If your hero remains the same from 3. W hat do they do during a normal
page one to page six hundred and day?
W hether you are describing your
one, they will be incred ibly bo ring. 4. What things do they like/hate?
character, putting them into action or
For example, let us look at an 5. What is their favourite
making them grow, it is all about
archetypal hero character: Buzz saying/phrase?
r e v e a ling your charac ters in
Lightye ar. Now Buzz, at the 6. W hat is their most common
measured amo unts. T his is not easy.
beginning of the movie Toy Story, is habit?
If there is too much de tail, you will
a heroic Space Ranger. No one 7. How would they react if
slow the pace in your story and put
doubts it as all his actions and _________ ? (fill in the
the reader too sleep. Too little and
dialogue shows us this. However, he blank).
there is not enough for the reader’s
is flawed. He is completely 8. How would they feel?
imagination to build a realistic
delusional, but over the course of the 9. W hat would they say?
character. If too late, your reader will
film, his character begins to realise 10. What do they want most in life?
have moved on to the next book on
that not all is at it seems and his ____________________________
the shelf!
character ‘develops’ and grows along (End of Part I. Be sure to look for
with the plot. This is what makes Characters That Breath in our next
Buzz a symp athetic character. It issue)
doe sn’t matter that he is a toy or a e e e e e e e
digitally enhanc ed b it of WB
animation—Buzz lives for one hour
and thirty minutes!
The starting point is the ‘flaw’.
Every protagonist needs something
they struggle with. It enables the
reader to ‘relate’ to them. It makes
them human (even Buzz). Howe ver,
they key is ‘growth’. Over the course
of your story the character must
show how they are overcoming this
flaw. If Buzz rem ained the sam e all
the way thro ugh the film he wo uld
become very annoying.
Now conversely, antago nists
don ’t have to have a perso nality that
‘grows.’ Let’s go back to our serial
rapist. Your story might start when
he is eighteen and just stalking his
victims. Throughout the plot his
behaviour progresses from just
stalking to physical assault, to rape
and eventually murder. That is
definitely growth. But a serial rapist
who commits rape and murder in the
first chapter and does it again and
a g a i n t h r o u g h o u t th irty -th re e
14
WB
Critic’s
Choice
February & March 2007
W ell! The nom inations and scoring
are finally done and finding our
winners was a very tough decision. It
was close to the wire all the way! But
that is what we expect from a forum
full of very talented people. The
standard and q uality of writing is
fantastic to see.
W e critics would like to
congratulate the winners and thank
all our members for contributing
their wonderful work to the site and
for giving us some fantastic reading.
February w inner:
Surfing Tales
by Starrwriter
I never tried to learn board surfing
for a coup le of reasons.
I have a lousy sense of balance.
At different times in my life I tried
other sports that required good
balance like riding a surfbo ard -- ice
skating, roller skating, skiing. I
couldn't do any of them.
Board surfing is also dangerous. I
knew two surfers who suffered
extensive injuries when they were hit
in the head by their own surfboards.
Frank was an Air Force buddy. He
raved about the joys of surfing, but
one day he reached in his mouth and
pulled out his upper front teeth. It
was a partial bridge of false teeth.
His real front teeth had been knocked
out by his surfboard.
For some reason the sight of false
teeth and b are gums in a young
person like Frank horrified me. I
suppo se it made me think of
premature old age and death. All at
once I was afraid of surfboard s.
A few years later the case of
another surfboard victim convinced
me to stay away from the damn things.
M ark was a hapa-haole (part
Hawaiian) young man who worked
in the compo sing room of the Maui
newspaper where I was a reporter.
He was mellow, soft-spoken and
pleasant to work with. Although he
enjoyed surfing, he was the anti-
thesis of surf N azis -- maniacs who
had no real life on dry land.
One day Mark had a surfing
accident that changed his life. In a
bad wipeout his bo ard struck his
head, fracturing his skull and causing
brain damage. He was in the hospital
for weeks and when he was finally
released, he wasn't the same person.
The new Mark wa s fine physically,
but the brain injury affected him
emo tionally. He spok e too loudly
and used a different kind of
language. He seemed ag itated and
unhappy. He lost his job because he
co uldn't concentrate. His friends
thought he was too weird and bailed
on him. He either didn't notice or he
didn't care. He lived in his own
world, which obviously wasn't a
good place.
It was a tragedy and I felt sorry for
Mark.
But I loved the ocean and I
couldn't stay away from it, so I took
up diving and eventually body
Writer’s Beat
surfing. Laying down in a wave
do esn't require a good sense of
balance and the ride gives you a
thrill similar to board surfing.
One day some friends and I went
to a remote beac h in W ailea, M aui,
(now occupied by a huge resort.) The
surf was ide al -- perfec t form and 4
to 6 feet high, which is big enough
for a great ride but small enough to
avoid serious injury if you "went
over the falls" o r wiped out.
I went out around noon and
started catching waves. I didn't have
to padd le for position, they simply
picked me up and carried me all the
way to the beach. Every hour or two
I went back ashore to drink a quick
beer, then returned to the surf. By the
time I left the water for good the sun
was dipping below the horizon.
It was the most perfect day of
body surfing I ever experienced. I
felt exhilarated and serene at the
same time. It was the first time I truly
understood why peop le surf in spite
of its dangers. W hen you encounter
ideal conditions, the ocean caresses
you with a power you can feel in
your bones. The surge o f water is
like a pleasant electric tingle and you
never forget the magical rush.
Later on I pushed my luck and
went body surfing in waves that were
too big (10-15 feet). I nearly
drowned twice before I learned my
size limit and I continued body
surfing for years.
I don't body s urf any longer.
Getting old and all that. Now I stick
to free diving and sp earfishing in
calm water. Yo u can't see the fish
very we ll in churned-up surf.
15
What the critics said…
As always, I find his writing flawless.
I think the ending is a little bit
disappointing, but the wh ole piece is
perfect.
What can I say the guy can write.
Wo nde rful!
Excellent description, flawless
writing.
˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜
M arch Winner:
Scissors
by OnceUponATime
(W arning:. Rated R for excessive
violence, gore and strong language.)
Derek watched the light win k on in
the second floor window of Emily 's
house. As much as he enjoyed her
company, the tim e had come for him
to collect his reward.
Her skin.
˜ Positive that the machine made
"Hmm mmm... not too bad," Sheri
said to herself after reading what
she'd just written. She leaned back
from her keyboa rd and sighed. Her
back ached, yet she was unable to
stop writing, and her eyes wept from
staring at the screen far too long.
Massaging her fingertips, she
returned them to the keys. Sheri
couldn’t quit now, even if she
wanted to. Derek, her serial killer,
was stalking his first victim.
The house around her remained
quiet, save for the clicking of keys
and occa sional tiny blip from her
computer. Her cat, Solomon, twined
around her legs in a bid for attention.
She gave him a quick scratch on his
ear. "Chill out, Sol. I’ll feed you as
soon as I’m done with this section, I
promise."
He m eowed, and she detected a
note if irritation. Then again, maybe
she’d been awake far too long. Times
like these were rare, though. When
the M use finally called, Sheri
answered the damn phone.
She typed on; her mind caught up
in her unfolding tale. Then, an hour
later, she paused and noticed a
headache brewing. She massaged her
temples and re-read Chapter Two.
˜ herself. He had plenty of time.
Derek checked the front door
and the doo rknob turned easily. He
gave a nod, satisfied. Emily grew up
in a small town where they did n’t
use locks. She’d told him so.
Pity.
He crept into the house, setting
each foot down with care onto the
clean tile floor. Emily didn’t like
carpet – she’d told him the day
before that a rug was hard to keep
clean.
Som ewh ere, deep in the house, he
heard the sound of an appliance
churning. A dishwasher, perhaps.
enough noise to cover his footsteps,
he ventured further in, past an
ornate mahogany grandfather clock
and a table covered with a collection
of porce lain pigg y ban ks.
How odd, he thought and
suppressed the urge to laug h. Emily
collects pigs.
Writer’s Beat
A floorb oard upstairs creaked
and he froze, listening. Emily moved
abo ut, maybe preparing to take a
show er. He’d watched her through
the window of the house across the
street for several days running and
knew that she showered several
times a day. Her bedroom window
stayed open, affording him an
excellent view. The walls groaned as
water rushed up ward thro ugh rusty
pipes.
"That’s my g irl," he whisp ered
and licked his kips. "Right on
schedule."
Em ily feared germs like others
feared rapists a nd m urderers. H e felt
a rush of pleasure knowing that he’d
soon bring an end to her suffering.
Calculating from memory, he
estimated the time it would take for
her to un dress and step into the
show er. She would stand beneath the
steaming water for at least ten
minutes before she began to scrub
He slipped into the kitchen.
˜
Solomon jumpe d up on Sheri’s
desk and set one of his velvety black
paws on the keyboard, typing
‘mmkljnk.’ She laughed and hoisted
him off the keys and got up to carry
him to the bedroom door. H e felt
heavy, warm and fuzzy in her arms,
and for a moment, she buried her
face in his fur. When she looked up,
the digital clock on the nightstand by
her bed told her that she’d worked
way past bedtime.
Three thirty-three a.m. I’ve
been at this for over fourteen hours.
Holding both Solomon and her
cell phone, she peered out into the
hallway. Through the darkness, she
made out the shape of the light
switch on the wall beside the stairs.
"I swear I hate this place at
night," she said, more to herself than
to the cat.
Solom on purred and rubbed his
16 Writer’s Beat

face against her neck, not worried in M arch Member: pugh7755

the slightest. Ho lding him close, she Title: Retribution
hurried to the light switch and Memb er: starrwriter. Memb er: gary_wagner
flipped it on. The stairwell plunged Title: T he M ushroom P eop le Title: The freakasaurus
down into utter blackness - the ____________________________
yawning throat of the house. Memb er: gunner
Solomon blinked at her, his bright Title: Murder at W illow Bridge
yellow eyes reflecting the overhead lamp. “ You know you're
"I suppose if you’re really Memb er: Toyzrock
starving, I can brave the depths of Title: Another window a writer when...
the first floor." W ith a shudder, she
descended, each wooden step Memb er: gary_wagner
everyone
creaking beneath her. Title: A hmed of A ramc o (Con’t) around you
-This is an excerpt of a longer seems like a
work. To read th e story in its
e n t i r e t y , v i s i t
Memb er: starrwriter
Title: A Tale of Two Fathers
very good
http://www.writersbeat.com/scissor
Memb er: tarakan
character
s-t9083.html
for your next novel.”
Title: The Adventures of Tarquin
What the critics said… Jenkins - Bare Faced Cheek! - Fanci
The descriptions were very well
written in every respect. Almo st Memb er: starrwriter From the Inkster Incorporated
putting m e as the w riter. Title: The Dreaming Pool forum on Writer’s Beat

A terrific story, Jiilian; wonderful

plot and great characters.

Spectacular stuff…what did I say Top ten cliché sins

when I first read this? ‘Oh Yeah… I By Tina C.
wanna write like this when I grow 1. No Luke…I am your father. Need I say anymore about this plotline,
up!’ hmm?
2. Characters solving plot deficiencies by going to the library…or even
Other Recommended better the good old let it slip in tactless conversation.
3. Dialogue that starts with ‘Hey’, o r ‘Say’.
Reading 4. Chapters that begin with the weather.
Here were the other nominations, 5. Incorrectly spelled names, so that characters appear cool. Trust me,
which we would highly recommend they do n’t.
you take a look at. Congratulations 6. Those Mundane metaphors. You know the ones I mean…it was as
to all of these writers for a job well cold as ice…icy fingers ran down his spine…her eyes were the colour of
done! the sky.
7. Any sentenc e that includes… Little did he/she/they/it know that…
February 8. One for the fantasy writers – W izards with long grey/white beards and
Member: rocklion flowing cloaks…erm… this may come as a bit of a shock but it has been
Title: Honeysuckle Blues done already.
9. One for the horror writers… Vampires who are traumatised by the ir
Memb er: Torpeh condition b ut are d own right sexy d oing it!
Title: C rucifix H ill 10. O ne for the SF w riters – Aliens who attack the human race beca use
they have had an ecological disaster on their home world…or… they
Mem ber: novu attack us just because they can.
Title: W hite Rain
17 Writer’s Beat

The re is little of us in a boy,

perhaps a talent for fishing and a
love of sailing coupled with a
propensity to stare w istfully out to
sea on long evenings. I stayed until
he was weaned and it broke my heart
to leave him, but his father was a
good man. The longer we stay, the
more difficult it is to go back but I
each year through the noxious have heard of those who chose to
A Writer’s brackish water. W e must learn to linger before returning, and those
Beat VIP Club bear it until we are prepared for dry who never return. I have heard tales
Featured earth. I have a strong memory of the of ones who were driven out by the
relief felt when swimming back out locals, or worse: burned, and the
Story.
of the channel to delicious cool child too.
salinity. Each time I make the I knew that the day would come
journey, this memory floods my when they noticed how I did not age,
Ocean Maiden mind and I am a youngster again.
I have been sent three times in
and I could not let this happen. I still
think about my son som etimes. His
and Apple King total, and this is my last cha nce to
accom plish my duty. The first time I
dark brooding eyes contrasted with
the blonde curls that all our babies
by Josie Henley travelled this path the baby was are born to bear. I called him
male, which happ ens. As the wise Benjamin for his father. Although he
I was born at sea; I spent the first one told me, it cannot be helped and is long dead now, perhaps his
it must be borne. descendants
100 years of my childhood in the
Some stay and raise continue to work
ocean; if it were my ch oice I would
the child themselves the estuary.
die at sea. The land is not right. It is
heavy, hard and static. The water is
for as long as they Once I am My second child
can, some find it a I rarely think about
uplifting, yielding and fluid. The first
time I came to land, I could not force
home or ab andon it certain that this as it hurts so much.
and escape to the It is my own fault
my legs to work pro perly. T hey felt
like great lum ps of m eat with b ig
sea once m ore. is a person, I that she p erished . I
clunky feet, knob bly knees and horny
It is a risk to stay
f o r l o v e . S o on
reach for my went too far inland
to satisfy my
toes, it was all wro ng, wrong! Not
like the smooth and beautiful
enough the son will
turn against the
mobile phone. curiosity and when
the time ca me to
rainbow-reflecting scales that I was
used to.
mother, it is I am horrified birth I could not
inevitable. W e are make it back to the
In the sea there are three
dimensions: forward-back; left-right;
different. Compared to think of sea. She was born a
with their short and mile from the coast
up-down. On land you can’t dive
brutal lives, we what might in the hovel of an
down deep or leap up high. On land
you must stick rigidly to a two-
m u s t s e e m
immo rtal. There are
have happened old woman. I was
running, running
dimensional life. If it were my choice
I should not visit the land ever again.
other minor
diffe r e n c e s : o u r
to her. along the track
when she caught
But it is not my choice, for I have
famed beauty is me. I screamed for
been sent on a mission to this dry
entrancing, our her to leave me for
and brittle realm. I must bear the
voices captivating. I still thought tha t I
desiccated land until I have
It is a great burde n to bear, to be so might reach the water. But she
completed the task set out for me.
attractive to those for whom one can pointed to the trail of blood and once
As children we are taken up the
only feel sorrow. she had hold of me my legs
channel, grad ually a few miles more
18
crumpled. I lay back and she put her
hand on the bab y’s head. At least I
was on the earth and not confined
between the woman’s stone walls.
A few minutes later I was holding
my daughter. If the old woman
expected me to be happy then she
was disappointed: I was discon-
solate. I cried so passionately that my
tears washed the child until her skin
glistened. I begged the woman for a
bucket of water and tried to sink the
baby in it, but she stayed my hand.
She thought I was trying to drown
the poor mite. It would have been too
late anyway. If the baby is not born
under water then she will not become
a full Ocean M aiden.
She wo uld no t die from exposure
to the air, but neither will she find
her fins. She will be forever trapped
with legs and lungs, wandering the
barren earth in search o f something
that she cannot say, yearning and
hoping and eventua lly being driven
mad with unrequited need. I did not
want that for my daughter. I left the
old wom an’s shelter some days later
and suffocated my poor darling,
taking her little bo dy back with me to
the deep est trench to mourn my loss.
I had not nam ed he r, as this would
have contributed to my suffering.
Following that I stayed in the sea for
some centuries and have not
ventured out. B ut I have been told
now by the wise one that I must go. I
must fulfil my obligation to my grandmothers.
My mother had three daughters, and
my sisters each have two alre ady. I
am the only one in our family who
has failed in this way. Thus my
desperation this time to conceive a
girl and bring her to birth. I so want
a dau ghter and it is this wanting that
draws me forward, out of the water.
The metho d of choosing a man is
taught to us before we make o ur first
journey to land. He must be clean
and free from disease; he must be
young and fit, not burdened; he must
have a spark of intelligence. But
most of all, he must be alone.
I fall on the rocks several times as
I pick my way toward the land, try to
make it to the thick sharp salty grass.
But finally I give up and drop onto a
hard, smooth boulder, naked, bruised
and shivering. I shall lie here and
wait for dawn, gathering my strength.
I am a fish out of water.
˜ the barrel. Shep comes with me and
I was born under an apple tree.
My family have owned this farm for
centuries, and now I run the
business. W e brew organic cider and
perry and have rec ently
experimented with liqueurs for the
growing market. I am not rich b ut I
would say that I’m com fortable. Folk
around here call me T he Apple King,
which does make me la ugh. M y
name is Ben jamin, a name which has
been handed down through my
mother’s family for genera tions.
Most of the family on her side were
sailors, but my father’s family were
farmers. The land is in my bones, the
cider my blood.
I like to think that I have a bit
more intelligence than the average
Neanderthal you might meet in this
small town. I read classics, I play
sudoku. I run my own accounts and
use the internet to sell my specialist
liqueurs. The internet is also a handy
way to keep a track of the latest
competition. I h a ve some
companionship in the form of my
employees, but my parents are both
dead and my only brother emigrated
to New Zealand to run a sheep farm.
I am lonely, you see, and isolated . I
can’t think of a way to change that
situation a s I’m also painfully shy.
I like to drink at a coastal bar,
which is really just an old stone
shack with a couple of barrels and
some rough seating. I prefer this to
the ‘local’ which is all done up for
tourists. Do n’t get me wrong, I like
Writer’s Beat
the local, and the tourists. Between
them they give my profits a hefty
boo st. I like them , but I would n’t
want to drink with them, if you know
what I mean. This bar is the only one
within walking distance that doesn’t
have a TV blaring in the corner.
On a Friday night I generally
find myself drinking my own cider at
the bar, paying a bit extra to drink it
from a glass instead of straight from
sits under the table. He gets an
ashtray full of bitter and lots of
petting from the old gu ys who gather
to play dominoes. Apart from the
mob ile phone in my po cket, this
could be fifty years ago. I like that.
Soon enough the sleepiness of this
town will be overtaken by the global
machine. Why not enjoy its last days
of leisure?
Occasionally we get a
disorientated tourist here. The lost
adventurer who has made it past Ice-
Cream City, through Amusement
Arcade Jungle and discovered that
there is life beyond Them e Pub
World. A weekend ramb ler marching
out into the landscape and confused
by the lack o f facilities. I shou ldn’t
do them down, really. Some of them
are pretty smart folk. But the more
that come, the more likely the
landlord is to give in to the pressure
to renovate the soul out of the old place.
So far the only concession to
tourists is the old dog-eared poster
writing up the history of the house,
done back when the current landlord
first took over. Apparently, hundreds
of years ago, an old dear used to
cater for sailors and travellers. She
was mobbed by locals for helping a
witch to kill her baby and the place
was burned dow n. No -one wanted it
so it fell into ruin. Folk said it was
cursed and haunted and all that. It
was turned into a bar then in 1920 by
an enterprising old navy man and a
photo of him hangs between the
19
optics. He looks a bit like Popeye.
The sun is long gone an d the last
orders have been called. I could stay
for longer. I’m sure the landlord
wouldn’t mind, me being his main
supplier. But I don’t feel like
sticking around tonight. I feel
restless for some reason, perhaps it’s
the heat.
“Hup , Shep !” I say and he d oesn’t
need a second telling. I take my
leave of the old lads and hitch up my
trousers before walking out into the
night. I wouldn’t use the toilet here,
little more than a hole in a hed ge it is
anyway. I need to go so I walk down
the coastal path till I find a bush. It’s
the long way home but old Shep
likes a run on the beach before bed.
As I’m pointing over the sea
front, I notice a gleaming shape on
the rocks out there. It’s probably just
an old bit of bleached driftwood but
from here it looks like it could be a
person. You never know what you
might find washed up on the shore.
Curio sity leads me down onto the
first boulders to try and get a closer
look. The nearer I get, the more it
looks like a woman, lying down with
long hair spread out around her. I
reach for my hip-flask – apple
brandy of course – in case she needs
resuscitation.
Cautiously I approach. There is a
strange smell, a fishy m usky smell.
Not unpleasant, a bit like lobster
perhap s. Onc e I am certain that this
is a person, I reach for my mobile
phone. I am ho rrified to think of
what might have happened to her.
She is naked and b y the way she is
spread-eagled I think that she must
be dead. W ho could do a thing like
this? W hat is the world coming to?
But then, just as I am about to dial
999, I jump nearly out of my skin
because she moves. No t only a small
movement but she virtually leaps up
to a standing position as if she’s a
pupp et being pulled with strings.
Writer’s Beat
I stammer a few words and step
backwards, tripping in a rock-po ol. Another VIP
Shep runs up to us barking and I put
my hand out to stop him. I apolog ise
Writer ’s
to her and put my phone away. She is Showcase
obviously uninjured. Maybe she’s a Feature:
strange hippy-tourist who decided to
come for a midnight swim alone in
the nude. Who knows what’s inside
these people’s heads?
She walks towards me and I back Ahmed of
away again. Calling Shep, I turn and
meander back up to the headland,
trying to appe ar casual. I am glad of
Aramco
by Gary_Wagn er
the cover of darkness because I am
so embarrassed that I think my face
Ahmed was a light-skinned, blue-
is as rosy as an ap ple in full blush.
eyed Saud i, a rarity in the land of
W hen I get to the top, I turn, fully
black hair, dark-brown eyed, latte-
expecting to see her gathering a
colored skin Arabs. His blue eyes
towel or running in the op posite
and light skin were the gene pool
direction. She is not. She stands there
inheritance from his Lebanese
looking at me for a momen t, then
mother. Ahmed also dressed in
slowly and deliberately strides over
western clothes, instead of the ankle-
the rocks towards me.
length tho be m ost Saudi men wear.
The panic I feel is like nothing ever
I first met Ahmed standing outside
before, even the kiss I had in high
the doors of the main Aramco office
school. I make a grab for my hip-
building in Dhahran. Another rarity
flask and take a massive swig,
for Saudi Arabia, the office building
ignoring the burn in my throat. I wait
there had just been made smoke-free.
for her to step onto the path and then
Smokers had to make their way
open my mouth to speak. But I can’t
down to the ground floor and smoke
get my words out. Her eyes bore into
outside in the op pressive hea t.
me, as if she can see deep into my
Ahmed approached me and told me
soul. She takes two steps nearer, her
he really liked my shirt, which was
hips swinging suggestively and by
not all that surprising - it was my
her look I know what’s on her mind.
favorite shirt, a Ralph Lauren that
I stumble backward s again. S he
my wife bought for me. Well, who
makes a coo ing noise, as if
am I kidding, I have only bought two
reassuring me.
shirts in the thirty-one years we have
I try to tell her to go find another
been married – she has bought all the
man, someone with more of a way
rest.
with the ladies, not me! She lifts a
I had no idea Ahmed was a S audi.
finger to stay my lips, then leans
He didn’t tell me and I didn’t ask. If
forward and replaces her finger with
you have never worked in Saudi
her own lips. Then I am gone and I
Arab ia you might wonder why that
can think no more. I fall into her
matters. If you have ever worked
embrace like a drowning man
there, you would realize that either
accepts his watery grave. being a Saudi or not makes all the
˜ difference in the wo rld. It is their
________________________ country, we were little more than
servants working for the m at their
20 Writer’s Beat

whim and d esire, and they were not have never agreed. I went there, we There are no protests, no candlelight
shy to let us know that. Granted, we watched Pink Floyd videos, I got vigils; it’s just something they accept
were highly spe cialized and highly drunk and threw up , and slept it off as part of their normal life.
paid servants, but we understood our on his couch – a common n ight out I was seeing a glimpse into the
place which was lower than the for a we stern expatriate in Saudi. private life of a Saudi – lives kept
Saudis in all matters. Americans used I went back to his place abo ut a extremely private, especially from
to rank highest in the non-Saudi week later. A friend of his was sitting the eyes of expatriates like me. There
pecking order, at least which was on the floor, obviously a Saudi with w e r e r u m o r s , th e r e we r e
still true in 1996 when this story the clothes, complexion, hair, and assumptions, there was talk, but this
o ccur r e d . W e eyes that was the first glimpse of reality I had
were higher than d e c l a r e d his ever had while working there.
o t h e r I felt like running for nationality loud I felt like running for the door.
nationalities, but and c l e a r. Instead I had a couple of sidiki and
definitely second the door. Instead I had a There was a colas; got really mellow. Then I
class citizens. W e couple of sidiki and newspaper smoked one of the half-tob acco , half-
tolerated it in spread out in hashish cigarettes Mohammed made
return for them
colas; got really front of him for me. I was 39 yea rs old and just
paying us twice mellow. Then I smoked where he was had the first illegal drug of my life. I
times as much one of the half-tobacco, dis assem blin g got a little go ofy and had another.
money as we cigarettes and We were all goofy and laughing at
could make
half-hashish cigarettes pushing the everything. Put the Pink Floyd video
anywhere else in Mohammed made for tobacco in a on again, it was hilarious. Ahmed
the world, full pile. I was a asked for my keys, which I gave him,
pay retirement
me. I was 39 years old little nervous and he told me to come with him
benefits at age and just had the first because I was when he ran for the door. I knew
50, paying for illegal drug of my life. not abo ut to Ahmed didn’t have a car or a
our housing and d r i n k driver’s license. I never asked why, I
u t i l i t i e s , homemade just knew he did n’t because he told
providing us with hooch in front me more than once. I didn’t really
a car, six weeks vacation per year, of a Saudi. Never had, never planned care much in the haze of booze and
private schools for our younger to, too risky. drugs.
children, luxurious private boarding His friend introduced himself, said He didn’t drive us far, just to a
schools anywhere in the world for his name was M ohammed (true of hill in the compound not far fro m his
our high school children, and paying about half of all Saudis) and that he apartment. He parked the car and
airfare for a trip home once per year. and Ahmed were go ing to drink said, “I just wanted you to share this
Ahmed and I talked about Sidiki (the homemade bo oze) and beautiful sunset with me” and took
inconsequential things - normal smoke hashish. Would that bother me? my hand.
smoker’s chit-chat. It seemed like I was floored. I ha d trave led to I have never b ecom e sober so fast
over the next week or so, he was out London and Los Ange les with Saud is before in my life.
there smoking every time I went out I worked with and they could drink Let me back up a minute and
for a smoke. He knew I was working me under the table in a heartbeat, but explain something about men
there with my fam ily still back here I never had one admit d rinking while holding hands in Saudi. It is a very
in the USA, and I knew that he lived “in kingdom” before. It was a huge common practice and doesn’t usually
alone in the bachelor’s section of the unspoken rule. Plus, alcohol can get connote anything except friendship.
Aram co co mpo und. you in a lot of trouble there, illegal W e shake hands in greeting, they
Ahmed invited me to his apartment drugs carries the death penalty. No hold hands. The pinky hold is pretty
to watch some videos and drink kidding, they cut peop le’s head s off common too. It is rather jarring to
some homemade bo oze on new-years for that – with a big curved sword at see two policeman walking down the
eve, which is not celebrated as a noon in public squares, one Friday street carrying automatic weapons
holiday there. I still had no idea at per month. Father’s pack a picnic over their shoulders and swinging
the time he was a Saudi or I would lunch and take their sons to watch. their arms with their pinkies linked
21
together. It is such a common
practice that I have had Saud is at my
office reach out and take my pinky in
theirs while we walk d own a hall
without even thinking abo ut it. It is
something you simply have to get
used to. To refuse or pull your hand
away would be an insult so you just
accepted the difference. All of our
contracts contained a clause that we
could be terminated and deported for
insulting a S audi.
The way Ahmed was holding my
hand, they way he referenced the
sunset, and the way he was looking
at me told me instantly that he was
looking for more than a friend.
Earlier that evening I had just
learned that Ahmed was a Saudi
citizen. That changed the balance of
the equation. Saudis have an inherent
power over expats, it’s just a fact of
life there. P iss off a Saudi and you
might as well pack your bags and go
home, or worse, get set up for
something and go to prison, or worst
of all, get your head cut o ff.
I endured a few minutes of
extreme discomfort before I told
Ahmed I wasn’t feeling well and
would have to go home. He offered
to let me sleep over, I declined, lying
that I was scheduled to call my wife
back in the USA at a predetermined
time and couldn’t miss it. I prob ably
said the word s, “wife” and “family”
half-a-dozen times as if I ne eded to
remind him that I was married with children.
I began using a new exit from the
office building and found a different
smoking spot. I never saw Ahmed or
Mohamm ed again. I guess neither of
them wanted to make trouble with
me for running away and breaking
off contact without another word
spoken between them because
although they could make trouble for
me, I could make just as much
troub le with them. We had reached a
stand-off of MAD (mutually assured
destruction) and bo th decided to just
keep quiet and move on with our
lives in hopes that they other
wouldn’t cause a ruckus because
everyone would go down in flames
together if any one of us did.
There are still things about that
situation that I don’t know and d on’t
necessarily want to know. Did I
somehow lead him on? Did I
misunderstand the watching the
sunset incident? Did he miscalculate
the depth of my loneliness being
there alone before my family came to
stay with me? D oes this incident
make me a homopho be? And the
biggest question, how could I be so
blind and naïve to a situation
unfold ing aro und m e.
It doesn’t bother me as much as it
used to, but it will always still bother
me to some extent. I hope I didn’t
hurt his feelings too much but he
sure freaked the hell out of me. ˜
If you wo uld like your work featured
in W riter’s Sho wcase , simply jo in
the W riter’s Beat VIP Forum. See
this link for more details:
http://www.writersbeat.com/v
iew_go_vip.htm
"What is written
without effort is in
general read
without pleasure"
– Samuel Johnson
(G.B. Hill (ed.), Johnsonian
Miscellanies, Vol. 2)
Writer’s Beat
Writer’s Block?
Try some of these
prompts:
From the Story Starters
thread in Writing Tips &
Advice on Writer’s Beat
K Pick three characters who
have nothing in common. Place
them together in an unlikely
setting and describe what they
talk about as well as what
happens.
K Write from a cliché - taken
literally.
K Think about a person from
work or school whom you can’t
stand. Write a couple of
paragraphs from their point of
view.
K Write a character sketch
about a person who people don’t
normally pay attention to.
K Write about a dream you
would like to fulfill before you
die.
K Write a story about a weird
event in your town’s history.
K Write about a colorful family
member / ancestor
K Write a poem about an
awkward moment in your life.
22 Writer’s Beat

Paper or Plastic?
WB Members comment on the Photo Prompt
differen ce be tween writing a draft Hopefully, a picture really IS worth a thousand words.
on pap er or on a com puter: See if you can write a few paragraphs based on this
photograph:
“I use both. If I'm sitting in my
room wo rking on som ething, I
generally click it into my computer.
But I also like the feel of having a
pencil scratch the paper, especially
for my non-fiction stuff. Also, I
find ideas flow better when my
materials are right there in hard
copy lying on my desk.”
-Alyosha

“I always type my actual written

work, but I never go to sleep
without a notepad nearb y, because
hand writing is still the best way to
hammer out those demented scraps
of genius that wake you from your
sleep.” -Darthwader

“I prefer the computer because I

can type faster, and should I ever
need to go b ack and ed it,
Backspace leaves a clean sheet of Need another idea? Try going through your family photo
paper. No scribbles or circles or albums. Find one from your early childhood and focus on it
arrows. Also, if I have a pen in my for a few moments. Do you recall any events from the time
hand , I'm probab ly more inclined to
the photo was taken? If so, put yourself back into your
doo dle than I am to write.”
- Citizen kid’s-sized shoes and write about your memories.

“Does anyone remember

this anachronistic thing
called a typewriter?” WB Official Publication

-jec5579 © 2007 Writer’sBeat.com

_______________________
If you’d like to see your artwork
or photo o n cover of the n ext
Excerpts from
issue o f W riter’s Club, sub mit it
What Do You Prefer: Pen and
to us by either using Contact Us
Paper or the Computer?
form on the Writer’s Beat Forum
Inkster Incorporated,
main page, or contact StarPanda
Writer's Bea t Forum
for mo re deta ils,
All writing works and photos
contained within are either property
of W riter’s Beat or used with
perm ission by the authors/artists
noted. No part of this publication
may be copied, printed, reproduced
or otherwise circulated without
perm ission from the authors.