Where Do They Come From?

Emeralds and Espionage came from "place." Walking the golf course with my husband in the early morning mist one morning, a story began to form and over the next few months, it became so clear I finally wrote it down. My characters came much like Anna's - clearly with all their baggage and personality. Since terrorism had begun to surface in the news, it seemed natural to make them Interpol agents fighting terrorism.

When I finished the manuscript, I was blessed to go to a writer's conference at BYU-Hawaii and as we flew over the volcano in a helicopter, Pearls and Peril's outline came to life. Everything we did, every where we went became the places for Bart and Allison's honeymoon perils. I had started a short story titled "The Island" and I incorporated the house and island and Kat from that into the portion when Allison was kidnapped.

An article in the travel section of the Los Angeles Times reporting the grand opening of the Museum of Modern Art and a diamond exhibit created the setting and story line for Diamonds and Danger. I had killed off the bad guy in Pearls, but everyone thought he was such a great villian that I resurrected him for Diamonds.

I had such fun with place and setting on those books that I stuck to the formula: pick a location, research it, visit, discover the history, explore it extensively, then throw my characters into the mix with a problem to solve. Someone had been kidnapped by terrorists somewhere in the world and held for ransom, so I figured the Three Tenors were definitely worth a huge ransom and Anastasia should be the group to save them in Turquoise and Terrorists. The mystical aura of the area lent itself to Allison's talents and connection with her father. My husband and his mother had a spiritual connection - she knew when he was in trouble. It was a natural thing for me to gift Allison with a similar (though more pronounced) gift.

Interntaional smugglers made headlines about the time I was ready for a new location. I've always been intrigued by Siam and the exotic Far East, so my next trip was to be to Thailand and Sri Lanka and incorporate those problems for my characters to solve. I love this book because I loved the possibility that while Allison was searching for her husband and pretending to be the wife of a fellow agent, she is thrown from a frightened elephant and has amnesia. Through all the mechanizations of Oz who has always been in love with her, she stays true to her husband. Several of the events in this book came about because my traveling children had things happen to them there and they became part of the story.

Amethysts and Arson came about because of a single tiny two paragraph filler in the newspaper reporting churches in the south had been burned to cover up robberies. The police had found a cache of the stolen goods, but none of the said churches claimed an antique amethyst altar cross. Voila. My active imagination conjured up an entire book around that!

And throughout all of them, a gem had to be included. Emeralds is my favorite stone so that was the first one. Pearls fit Hawaii. Diamonds for the exhibit in San Francisco, turquoise, of course, for Santa Fe, amethysts for the stolen cross, and sapphires come from Thailand and Sri Lanka.

I went to a gem and mineral show to find an amethyst ring (I have a ring for each of my books) and found a lovely little malachite lion. I love malachite! So I e-mailed JoAnn Jolley and said my new book was going to be Malachite and Murder. Did she like that title? She said yes. No problem with it. I wrote the book about this little lion, using some of the travel experiences and places from Amethysts in the south. When I submitted the book, I was told I had to change the name - murder had not appeared in any LDS book titles and Covenant wasn't going to be the first to do it. No matter that Susan Evans McCloud had a great book entitled "Murder by the Sea." So I had to change the gem to Jade. But again, in this book, location and place heavily affect the story.

I was born and raised in Idaho - an hour's drive from opal mines - and never knew they were there! One of my very good friend's father actually was half-owner of one of the big mines up there and I had no idea. So when I discovered that, of course, Opals and Outrage became the next book set in my own backyard. Osama bin Laden was in the news, so he became the epitome of the terrorists bad guys Bart and Allison had to vanquish. One of my favorite characters ever is Injun in this book. Again, because of the location, he had to be there. The Clarence in the story is fashioned after my uncle.

Bear with me - only two more! Rubies and Rebels was born in Armenia while we were on our mission. 9-11 happened while we were there which influenced this book. I loved the monasteries we were privileged to tour so I peopled this book with real live characters from Armenia and had the action take place in some of our favorite haunts.

Topaz and Treachery came from our tour of Italy and cruise of the Greek Islands. Everywhere we went, I could visualize Bart and Allison pretending to be tourists and making themselves available for some unknown person to pass them the precious Topaz stones from Elizabeth's necklace. Again, history was a huge part of this book, so I was able to incorporate lots of actually historical data and people.

And that - in a rather large nutshell, is where my ideas and characters come from. Maggie McKenzie is another story for another time. :) I'm looking forward to hearing from the rest of you on this fascinating subject. Thanks for asking, Gale!

The Route

My book, The Route, is a fictionalized account of the years I spent delivering meals-on-wheels to a wonderful and wacky group of seniors. Sometimes the loaded food baskets were a bit heavy, many of the home situations were difficult, and some of the older folks were cranky, but I wouldn't have traded the experience for anything. It taught me to value the lives of the seniors, and presented me with the opportunity to evaluate my own choices, and where I was headed on life's highway. It also taught me the great joy of service.

The Buddah instructed that to reach Nirvana (heaven) one had to become selfless and serve others. In fact, the word Nirvana means "the putting out of fire." The fire is the fire of selfishness.

It didn't seem possible that the simple act of dropping off a meal and chatting for five minutes at each stop would make a difference, but it did, especially in my life. The folks I served had made it through a myriad of life experiences and struggles, and most had come through with more resilience, compassion, and humility.

I grew to love Mary, with her down-to-earth sense of humor, Tom with his fascinating stories of growing up in China, and Bea with her quiet kindness. I even grew to love crusty ole Viola with her acerbic tongue and unreasonable demands. Service and love can accomplish amazing things.

I had a great time writing, The Route, because it gave me the opportunity to go back and remember all the wonderful characters and life changing lessons. It was also a way of saying thank you to the amazing older folks who let me share a part of their lives.

A common question, but I really want to know...

I have a simple idea for my blog today. I come by this idea because of a horrible night’s rest. Shortly before it was time for me to get up for work, I had a disturbing dream. When I woke up (after nearly jumping the to the ceiling thanks to that particularly terrifying dream along with the alarm clock going off and the exact right moment) I thought to myself, wow, that could make quite a storyline for a book—not the kind I write, but something Stephen King fans could appreciate.

A commonly asked question of an author is “Where do you come up with your ideas?”
So I wanted to ask everyone out there, where are some of the places or what are some of the things that helped you to come up with ideas for writing?
Did you “dream” them up? Did ideas pop up as you were writing along? Did you pick a profession and base a story around it? Or did your ideas come from a personal experience? I would love to hear where everyone has come up with material for writing – be it articles, poems, books, anything you wish to share with us.

While we’re sharing, I’ll start the ball rolling.
My first book was based on a profession. I thought cops were cool. I have a ton of personal added touches to my first book but, there you go… the storyline idea itself was because of a “cool profession”.

My second book was a little of the same. The main character was into landscaping. My dad has a real knack for yard design so the idea to have her involved with that was because of my dad. Again, more personal added touches too, but…

My third book is totally family history stuff but changed a bit to fit the storyline. I will say on this one I had no idea as I was writing what the meaning of the “mystery” was as I was writing it. (Sorry, that may seem confusing but I don’t want to give anything away to those who haven’t read it. No spoilers here! J I usually have an idea of who dunnit, how, and why they did it, but on my last book, there were a few things that I didn’t know the meaning of as I wrote them. The mystery was a mystery even to me. I have to say that I really had fun not knowing what I was going to end up with (though at times it was frustrating and nerve wracking) and in the end I had to go back and fill in a lot of holes to make it all work together. But it was a lot of fun to write that way.

The book I SHOULD (the keyword here is should) be working on is-- hmmm, I guess I’d say I just think there’s a story worth telling and hopefully I can find a way to tell it that does this group of people justice.

So that’s my story in a nutshell. I would love to read about yours.

About that dream… it’ll never “go” anywhere but it may stop me from “going” back to sleep tonight. ICK!

So, what about you? Where do you come up with your ideas?

Enter the Character

by Anna Jones Buttimore

In 1990, Joanne Rowling was travelling on a train when Harry Potter "Just strolled into my head, fully formed." Nine years later began the phenomenon every writer dreams of - book sales breaking records, children discovering the joy of reading, and no financial worries ever again.

I don't begrudge her any of it - I love those books too. But until recently I was twisted with jealousy over the way her character, and presumably his story, came to her so easily. If you read these blogs regularly you'll know that I am struggling with my current work and even gave up on it a few months ago, before taking it out and dusting it off again with a sigh (and a sneeze). I think I'm finding it particularly difficult because my last book, Easterfield, was a joy to write - it pretty much just fell out of the ends of my fingers.

Two days ago I experienced an exciting flash of inspiration when the character of Amelia Druce swam into my head, fully formed. Yes, she really did swim, and not only was I able to see that she could do with losing a few pounds around the waistline and freshening up her hair colour, but I knew all about her failed marriages, her cossetted childhood, and her love of snow globes. I knew how she thought, which of her friends she liked the most, and exactly what funny things were going to happen to her in the course of the book.

Half-an-hour later I had not only written a whole introductory chapter about Amelia, but I knew how her story would intersect with those of her friends, and how her friends' characters complemented and contradicted hers. (Her friends didn't swim into my head - Maralee marched, Dolphin danced and Jen jumped. Tip for writers: always avoid affected, awkward and annoying alliteration - but when you get to know these characters as I have, you'll see what I mean.)

Unfortunately when I say "written", I mean "composed" because, as always happens with flashes of inspiration, I was nowhere near a computer at the time. I was, in fact, in the steam room at my gym, my second-favourite place in the world for quiet time, introspection and deep thought. (A banana for whoever can guess the first.) Not really somewhere I can take a laptop.

Even more unfortunately, Amelia Druce is not a character in the book I am currently labouring over, but the one I will start once I have finished it. So you may have to wait quite some time to learn about the tangled love lives of Amelia, Maralee, Dolphin and Jen. And in the meantime, as Dory would say, Amelia can just keep swimming. And I can be thankful that, once in a while, I can share the creative experience of a really great writer.

Pageantry

Yes, this is a stroll down memory lane. ;) Sorry about that, but I've been thinking about a pageant experience from my high school years. There is a reason why I've pondered this event in recent days. Earlier this summer, I was asked to write the script for this year's Miss Bear Lake Valley Pageant. It took some doing, but I was able to complete it on schedule, despite several last minute changes.

I've never written a pageant script before. I've written countless roadshows, camp skits, a musical for the YW I served with a few years ago entitled: "The Adventure of a Lifetime," and it was; a Christmas musical for the tri-stake area, and a community Christmas production. Writing a pageant script was a new experience for me. As I struggled to pull it together, I began reflecting on the one time I endured a pageant adventure.

I had never planned on participating in a pageant. But when it came time for the 1979 Jr. Miss to be crowned, a couple of good friends talked me into vying for the title. They made it sound like this would be the greatest experience of my life. I believed them, especially when they pointed out that I would have a chance to hone my talents.

A budding performer, I embraced this opportunity to write and sing one of my own songs. Singing and songwriting was something I had been dabbling with for years, and this seemed like the perfect chance to see what professional judges thought of my abilities. And there was a chance at a scholarship that was offered through this venue which was also tempting.

I wasn't thrilled over the idea of dancing in public. Blessed with two left feet, I was very concerned about this portion of the program. But my friends assured they would help me practice until I got the hang of things. I pointed out to them that there were reasons why I didn't do things like march with the drill team. The one time I tried out for this organization was an adventure in humiliation. I always seemed to be doing the opposite of everyone else. It's a gift, I know, to march to the beat of a different drummer, but this tendency of mine was not appreciated by the woman who was the adult adviser over the drill team. I was quickly cut from the team during the tryouts. I tried not to take this personally, and went on to participate in other activities that didn't require me to be graceful, like drama, journalism, Honor Society, and the entertainment club---an organization that provided entertainment at dances, assemblies, and so forth.

True to their word, my friends helped me learn the dance we were to perform during the night of the pageant. I spent hours trying to catch onto the dance steps, and finally, after several frustrating practices, I could almost dance as well as a lame duck. ;) Maybe a little better than that, but I knew that dance routine would not be my strong point.

For weeks, I had been told by the other contestants, the adult advisers for this event, and anyone else who had been watching us practice, that I had the talent award all sewn up. I believed them, and worked extremely hard on preparing for that portion of the pageant.

All too soon, the pageant week arrived. One by one, fourteen of us were interviewed by the judges. I felt extremely tongue-tied during my interview. I was scared to death by the frowning set of adults who faced me in a semi-circle. I was asked questions about my current interests, future plans, and personal preferences. When I was asked who my favorite author happened to be, since I had listed on a form I had filled out earlier that I loved to read, I blew it. That should have been an easy answer, since at that time in my life, my favorite author was Agatha Christie. Instead of sharing that information, I hesitantly stuttered that I thought Erma Bombeck was hilarious. While that was a true statement, and I enjoyed her books, she wasn't my favorite author. I was tempted to kick myself when I left the room that afternoon. I had allowed a tendency to be shy to hamper my interview. Instead of exhibiting confidence, I had displayed terror. Most uncool.



In way of good news, I had two very pretty dresses to wear. Both were extremely modest formal gowns. One was light blue with long sleeves and a high neck. The other was a Gunnie Sax design, for those of you from that era. It was a beautiful dress that you can see in the picture below.

This dress had wonderful lacy sleeves, and yet another high neck. I'll admit it--I was a teenage prude. I wasn't comfortable wearing anything that even smacked of being immodest. It may have been part of my shy nature, but that's just who I was . . . and who I am today. I've never been one to wear anything that causes embarrassing discomfort. Unless you count the times I've dressed up to render silly singing telegrams . . . but I digress. ;)

Back to the pageant adventure . . . the big night finally arrived. We had been told that we would be paired to walk in with members of the high school basketball team. I don't know who paired us up, but I was assigned to walk in with one of the tallest members of the team. This kid was well over 6' 8", and since I was only 5' 2", I was about eye level with his belly button.

Now, bear in mind, this was 1979, and platform heels were all the rage. That night I was wearing a black pair of platform dress sandals that looked sharp with both dresses. They elevated me to nearly 5' 6". I didn't realize these factors would collide into disaster. As I was escorted from the back of the auditorium to the stage at the front of the room, my arm at an uncomfortable angle since my escort was still a foot taller, I managed to step into the hem of my new blue gown with the platform heel of one sandal, and I face-planted it in front of everyone. For a few seconds, I wished for the floor to swallow me. Then I was tempted to kick my escort on the leg. He just stood there and looked at me, while the audience tried not to laugh. As I managed to rise to my feet, he then gallantly took my arm and hustled me up the stairs to the stage. I heard later on that he was mortified over how I had embarrassed him. Ah . . . a true gentleman. ;)

That was an indication of things to come. While I didn't fall down during the dance as one poor girl did, I was still off here and there with the differing dance steps. I hoped no one would notice my continued lack of grace, and I psyched myself up for the talent segment of the evening. Fortunately, my song went better than I had expected. The audience cheered loud and long after my performance, giving my ego a much needed boost. The rest of the night passed quickly and it was finally time for the winners to be announced.

They started with the specialty awards. When it was finally time for the talent award, I waited eagerly. The emcee said quite loudly, "And tonight's talent award goes to Ch . . ."

I knew all of my hard work and humiliation had been worth it. Gathering my courage, I stepped forward to accept the award.

"Ch . . . ari Salter!"

Once again, I wished to be swallowed by the floor. Instead, I graciously shook the hand of the young woman who had won the award, and retreated back to my place in line with the others. When I thought about it later on, Chari really had deserved the talent award. She had performed a singing and dancing routine from a musical production, and she was the epitome of confidence. She had scored the highest with the interview and the talent segments, and she was proclaimed Ashton's Jr. Miss in 1979, going on to represent our school in the state competition. She was awarded the Miss Spitfire award in Boise, doing her best to bring a sense of pride to our small town.

I'll admit, immediately after the pageant in Ashton, I felt disappointed. One of my close friends had placed as the first runner up, and I was thrilled for her (she was one of those who had talked me into participating in the pageant) but it stung knowing I had failed to win anything that night. But when my friends and family came backstage to congratulate me on how well things had gone, (I know, they were being exceedingly kind) my spirits lifted. I knew I had given the pageant my best. Some things hadn't turned out as I had envisioned, but I had learned so much from that experience. Among other things, I learned to laugh at myself. My friends and I would laugh about that pageant for years to come, as we relived my less than shining moments. And so many people talked to me later on about my talent number, it made me feel like I had accomplished something fairly neat.

Because I had been courageous enough to take part in that pageant, a few months later, I was asked to write and sing a special musical number for my high school graduation. That was a highlight of my high school days, and that opportunity was the direct result of my efforts during the pageant.

It is my hope tomorrow night, when the new Miss Bear Lake Valley is crowned, that all of the girls who are participating will come away with a feeling of self-worth, regardless of the outcome. They are all winners in my book, for possessing the courage to get up in front of a crowd to perform. It is these type of experiences that shape our characters, and help us to discover who we really are. And when we embrace the new growth that can be ours from these learning experiences, it doesn't matter who walks away with the crown.

FANTASTIC OR BORING?

If you’ve ever had a friend recommend a book to you, one he or she has gushed over, and found when you tried to read it that it was endless, boring drivel, then welcome to the world of reality. Or perhaps you’ve been on the opposite side, giving a glowing account of a book that made an impact on you, only to find family and friends consider the same book to be ho hum. Fortunate and few are the authors who manage to appeal to a wide cross-section of readers.

People are different and their tastes vary, that’s why we have different genres of fiction. In fact, most people don’t find a single genre appealing throughout their entire life. As I trace my own fiction preferences, I started out being crazy about animal books: The Black Stallion, Old Yeller, The Yearling, My Friend Flicka, Lassie, Tiger! Tiger! From there I jumped to mythology and fairy tales, followed by the usual mystery and adventures of Nancy Drew, Trixie Beldon, The Hardy Boys, and Tarzan. I went through a Perry Mason phase, a Martian Chronicles phase, and a Louis L’Amour phase before falling in love with epic novels such as Exodus, The Big Fisherman, the Delderfields, The Far Pavilions, The Winthrop Woman, and Desiree. For years I loved romances, then moved on to romantic suspense and historical. I now enjoy a broad spectrum of genres, but continue to like books filled with action. Since I review LDS fiction for Meridian Magazine, I’m glad that LDS fiction now comes in so many different genres.

I find something I like in almost every LDS novel I read, though granted, I have to look pretty hard in some. Some books, I don’t care so much for, fail to appeal to me because of personal taste. They might be well-written for their particular genre, but they don’t appeal to me. Other times a book isn’t particularly well written, but the research and basic story are so interesting I like the book anyway.

Some readers enjoy a slow leisurely read while others crave action. Some enjoy stories based primarily on the characters and their thought processes and evolution. Still others are more interested in following a convoluted plot than concerning themselves with the twists and turns going on in the characters’ minds. Fantasy is popular now because it provides total escapism from this world’s problems. Romance is always popular because almost everyone falls in love at some time, or hopes to, and can relate to the emotions and crisis involved in finding a perfect mate. There are those who feel they are learning something as well as being entertained when they read historical novels. Others thrive on the challenge of outwitting the characters in a book (or the author) to solve a mystery.

I’ve served as a judge for quite a few writing contests and I write a review column for an internationally recognized online magazine which are the reasons, I assume, that I’m sometimes asked what makes one book good or successful and another not so good. I can only answer with my own personal criteria. First is something I call personal appeal. The subject matter or premise of the book must be appealing to the reader. Next is packaging. This means a cover that stirs a potential reader’s imagination. Then follows style and accuracy. The first page of a book needs to start where the real story begins, using words that intrigue or capture attention, copy errors must be at a minimum, and font and print size need to be right for the projected audience. The heart and meat of a novel are plot and characters. Readers who find they care nothing for the characters in a novel aren’t likely to finish the book and they won’t recommend it to their friends. If the plot is soft and predictable, the reader has no reason to continue turning pages. A book can be a good book if it accomplishes all this for one person. But unless it accomplishes all this for a large number of readers, most people won’t consider it a success.

Surprise! Surprise! There is no magic formula for writing a perfect super successful novel. Not even J. K. Rowling managed to appeal to everyone. Just as people and their individual tastes vary, so do the imaginations of readers and writers. Some writers’ imaginations are too extreme, too dull, or too repetitive for some readers even if other readers find them just right. Most writers can only aspire to appeal to a large enough group of readers with like imaginations to develop a profitable following.

If someone tells me a book is great, I’ll probably give it a try, but I’m not surprised when I don’t like it as much as they do. And if I sing the praises of a certain book, it’s fun if others agree, but I’m never surprised if it doesn’t strike the same chord in another book lover as it does for me. Sometimes two or more readers discover they like the same book and tell their friends, who like it too, that’s how a book becomes a best seller. So keep sharing with your friends the titles of books you like. You’ll agree on the merits of some and disagree on others, but that’s part of the fun of being able to read.

It's a New Day! Ready, Set...Crash!

What good posts everyone has written this past week. They've all felt like they were exactly right for me. After reading Jennie's post, I dove into some cleaning and organizing I desperately needed to do so I can create the psychic space to focus and get some work done. I have several editing projects to do, and this morning I had three projects in particular I planned on tackling. Now, roughly 12 hours later, I have done precisely one of them. So in the midst of running and scrambling to put out fires, I thought of Gale’s post on not running faster than I could edit—or type—or walk—or whatever I was trying to do. I feel better already, Gale!

(Happily, I still have the whole week to get back to organizing and I plan to work towards FINISHING, Jennie! And Lynn, not only did your post motivate me to give some attention to some photos and keepsakes (like cards from friends) that I’d like to keep in a special place, it made me feel a lot better that my task is really, really small compared to yours!)

Anyway, after rereading Gale's post, and Anna's, it occurred to me that I need to follow Anna and go someplace new and have some adventures in my life. And I need to have a few dreams to look forward to (although at the moment, my dream consists of a full-time paycheck again—funny, I’m looking at a job that pays half of what I’ve been paid in the past and I’m thrilled at the thought of all I could do with the money). Life is just full of surprises, isn't it?

And that brings me to Jeri’s post, which reminds me that it’s important to adjust and change my expectations for myself and my accomplishments—and see changes with appreciation for new opportunities.

Cheri always reminds me there’s plenty to laugh about (or get frustrated about, but it’s better to laugh). And to think I once thought it would be cool to grow up in a small town and be a big fish in a little pond. (So, tell me, Cheri, what kind of TP do you favor? I’m not picky but I draw the line at one-ply; every time I visit UVU I swear to myself that I’m going to BMOTP.)

So I didn’t get everything done today, or even 50% of what I’d hoped. But besides feeling some satisfaction from the few things I did do today, I'm feeling grateful for some things that got done today that I didn’t have to do. I didn’t have to replace the alternator in my car (my brother did) or mow my lawn (again, my brother did—love that smell of freshly mown grass, Nancy!) and I didn’t even make my sandwich for lunch (Hogi Yogi did—fresh veggies, Nancy, does it count if I didn’t grow them myself?) nor did I pay for it (my other brother did).

And something fairly small that I did (mail a book for my favorite site paperbackswap.com) is a big thing for someone else. I mailed a coffee table-type book about the old West to a woman who belongs to a group of reenactors in Pennsylvania and this book will help them all keep their costumes authentic. I LOVE sharing books!

Well, I don't know that I can get much else done today. So maybe I'll just go to bed early and get a good start tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day, right? (Oh, Scarlett and Ms. Mitchell, did you ever dream that those words would live on and provide comfort to so many?)